Rise (17 page)

“Kevin and Aaron would've sent word if the boys were on their way back,” Ruby said. I set the radio into the duffel bag, taking the battery out and nestling it in my inside pocket.

I peered into the narrow mud room. “There's enough for four months,” I said, running my hand over a row of cans, their labels long gone. Just below were jars of dried berries and nuts, salted boar, and boiled lake water. Boxes were stacked in one corner of the room, the result of a recent storehouse raid.

“The boys said it could last as long as six.” Ruby pulled a few jars of water down. “But we've been adding to it. We found rose hips, wild berries, grapes. If there's fish in the shallows we try to bring them in with the net, but we can only go out so far without being able to swim.” She sat back down beside Pip, twisting off the lid for her. Pip was quiet.

“That's smart,” I said. “It's impossible to know if they survived the siege or not. By the time you did run out of supplies, it might be too late to collect them.” My eyes fell for a moment on Pip and Ruby. They were further along than I was, by at least two months—maybe more.

Across the room, the girls sat in front of the fire, more comfortable now that they'd seen Silas and Benny. Helene, who seemed the least affected by their presence, explained her splint to Silas, taking it off so he could see the leg beneath. Beatrice ladled out the carrot soup into the plastic containers the boys had once used as cups. “Eve came back,” Benny said, carving into the mud floor with a twig, showing Bette and Sarah the words as he spoke them. I should've been relieved—that Leif wasn't here, that my friends were alive and safe. But my gaze kept returning to Pip. She sat with her back against the wall, swirling the spoon around, her eyes fixed on the soup's steaming surface.

They were both more than five months pregnant, but it had affected them so differently. Ruby looked healthier, her face filling out, her cheeks full and pink. Whenever she wasn't talking, one hand found its way to her stomach, her palm resting on the tender spot below her belly button. Pip looked as though she were fighting off sickness, the color gone from her face. Her eyes were red rimmed and sad, and in the passing hour since I'd discovered them, she'd said only a few words to me, each one clipped and strange.

“And Arden never got pregnant—you're certain?” I asked, keeping my voice low to avoid being heard.

Ruby nodded. “I'm certain. That's part of the reason we left the compound when we did.”

“When did you escape, then? How did Arden get you here?”

She glanced sideways, and for a moment Pip met her gaze, making some passing expression I didn't recognize. Pip's eyes were unfocused, as though she were in some other place and time. “About a month ago now,” Ruby said. “We'd been in the room next to her for weeks and she hadn't said anything. And then one night she was there. Everyone else was sleeping. She opened her hand and there was the key. She said you gave it to her, and we had only this one chance to leave.

“She'd befriended one of the guards. Miriam, I think was the name. Arden sometimes helped with tasks around the building—sweeping, moving equipment, that sort of thing. She thought it would make them see she had changed, that she wasn't a threat. If she was useful in the compound, she thought they wouldn't make her train for the army—there were rumors about that, what would happen if she couldn't get pregnant. We left that night with her—she'd stolen a security code from Miriam. And she swam us across the lake, one at a time. We were just south of the dugout, so we came here for supplies. That's when we first heard about the siege. Within the week the boys left. They went to liberate the first labor camp with a group from a settlement up north. Arden went with them.”

Pip didn't lift her eyes from the floor. She worked at the mud with her nail, gouging out a shallow hole. “We've been taking care of Benny and Silas,” she said.

Ruby's eyes were glassy in the firelight. “Arden had told us you were being held in the City,” she said. “I thought I'd never see you again.”

She pressed her lips together, managing a tight smile. I hadn't seen her cry at School. She had always comforted Pip and me, was always the hopelessly rational one who managed to see every side of every situation, whose presence automatically made you lower your voice, talk slower, not be as angry or sad. Ruby's hand rubbed at the front of her stomach as she took a deep breath, willing the tears away.

“I'm glad we made it here,” I said. “I thought the same thing sometimes.” I leaned in, about to hug her, but something in her face stopped me. She looked over my shoulder, her expression foreign and cold.

Pip noticed Ruby's hesitation. “I never understood . . . why Arden?” she asked, each word spoken so carefully, as if she'd been waiting for days, weeks maybe, to say them to me. “You hated her at School. And then she comes to us, saying you've given her this key. She told us how you and her were together in the wild. She said you saved her.” Pip swiped at her cheek, catching a tear before it fell. “I just don't understand why you brought her and not us.”

“I didn't,” I said. I grabbed for Pip's hands but she slid them out from under mine. “I didn't bring her. I found her after I left—she was the one who told me about the building. I was forced to leave alone.”

“Who?” Pip's voice wavered. “Who forced you?”

“Teacher Florence,” I said. “I could leave only if I went alone.”

“Then you shouldn't have left at all.” She raised her voice as she said it. Ruby placed her hand on her back, trying to calm her, but Pip continued. “Do you know that I waited for you? I sat in that room all day, and I argued with Headmistress that I couldn't go to graduation, that something horrible must've happened. I could not imagine that you would actually leave School without me. How stupid was that? How stupid was I, thinking I'd be going to the City? Imagining my apartment, the architecture firm I'd work for there—imagining that we'd be together.” She leaned in, her cheeks flushed. She was talking so loudly now that the girls turned, watching us. “I was staring at the lake as I walked over that bridge. I kept searching the water because I was so terrified you'd drowned. And the whole time you knew. You listened to me go on about my life in the City, and you
knew
.”

My throat squeezed shut. I pressed my fingers to my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but my face was red, the whole room closing in on me. “I made a mistake,” I said, forcing each word out. “A really huge, irreversible mistake. And I still carry that. But I didn't know until that night. I had only minutes to figure out what I was going to do. I wasn't planning it. Of course I would've taken you if I knew.”

Pip released a deep breath. The air felt heavier, the inches between us holding everything unspoken. “Now you're the Princess.” Pip let out a strange laugh. “After all this time, you were living in the Palace.”

Ruby set her hand down on Pip's and whispered something to her, the words so low I couldn't make them out. “Why do you think I'm here?” I asked. “I've escaped the City. If we're caught I'll be killed. I might've lived in the Palace, but it wasn't as if I forgot everything that happened before.”

Behind us Clara and Beatrice stood, collecting some of the bowls scattered on the floor. “Let's get everyone situated in their rooms—you could all use some rest,” Clara said. She helped Helene up, wrapping her arm around her side. Slowly the girls moved into the surrounding tunnels, their eyes lingering on us.

“Why did you bring them here?” Ruby asked. “What's the point of this?”

I tried to steady my breaths. “We're going to Califia. Arden must've told you about the settlement over the bridge.”

“The women's camp.” Ruby nodded. As the fire dwindled down to the final, blackened logs, the room grew colder. “She said you'd had to leave there, that it wasn't safe.”

“It's the safest place we have—maybe the only place,” I said. “Especially for the girls. A few of the women are doctors. There are midwives to help with delivery. I can set up lodging for all of us.”

Pip studied me. “When are you going?”

That word,
you
—not
we
—left me silent for a moment. “We're leaving in a week's time, maybe less. We're hoping the boys left at least a few of the horses. The trip could be less than four days if we rode there. I want you both to come.”

Ruby stood, pulling her shawl around her. “That's a long time to be traveling.”

“We may be able to do it faster,” I said. “The important thing is that we go as soon as possible. The troops are looking for us, and this was supposed to be only a stop along the way.”

“Benny and Silas,” Pip said. “We can't leave them.”

“We won't.” I reached for her hand, instinctually, but she tensed at my touch. I left it there for a moment before pulling away. “We'll have to bring them and insist they stay with us. They're still young—they're not a threat.”

But Pip kept shaking her head. She stood, brushing the dirt off her pants. “I can't,” she said, her voice low. “I won't. We're safe here. Everything was fine before you came.” She turned, pulling her sweater around her, and started down one of the far tunnels.

I stood, feeling like she'd just slapped me. “I suppose you're staying, too?” I asked Ruby, trying to keep my voice even. She'd seen me cry so many times at School, had held me as we talked about the plague, the way my mother had looked before she died. It wouldn't have been new for either of us, and yet here, after so many months apart, she felt like a stranger. Even her face, the full cheeks and wide, deep-set eyes, was something I needed to relearn.

“I can't leave her.” Ruby pushed her thick black hair away from her face. “We can stay here. We've been managing on our own.” She pressed her lips together, as if there were nothing more to say.

She pushed past me, starting after Pip. “I am sorry,” I said. “I know it doesn't matter now. But I would change a lot of things if I could.”

Ruby didn't look back. She caught Pip's arm, pulling her close to her side. I stood in the room alone, listening to the girls whispering, then the faint sloshing of water as Beatrice walked the buckets outside, Silas and Benny trailing behind her.

I watched their backs up ahead, turning in to the room that they shared.

IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS THE BEACH WAS QUIET. CLARA
started the wash, plunging the clothes into the cold water. She looked so natural doing it, rubbing the fabric together, loosening the dirt, I hardly recognized her as the girl I had met in the City Palace so many months before. She spread the clothes out on the rocks to dry, adding them to the rest. Shirts and pants, sweaters and socks—they all laid there, colorful shadows on the shore.

As Sarah and I started down the sandy incline, carrying pots for lake water, I noticed Helene. She sat off to the side, her bad foot resting in the shallows. The swelling had gone down, but it was apparent now that the bone hadn't healed right. Her ankle was turned outward at an odd angle. She reached for it, pressing her fingers against the tender spot where it had broken. “Best not to,” I said, setting the pots down. I leaned over to examine the bone. The skin was a greenish blue—the remnants of bruising.

“It looks horrible,” she said. “Last night I woke up because it was throbbing. It's always going to be like this, isn't it? I'll never be able to walk on it again.” She searched my face, looking for some answer.

“We'll get you better help when we reach Califia. There's a woman there who studied medicine. I don't know enough to tell you,” I said, brushing back her braids. But it seemed, more than a week later, that the bone had set wrong. There might've been a chance to rebreak it, but I couldn't imagine that—to have to suffer through the pain all over again. I picked up the two boards and set them down on either side of her shin, helping her tie the splint back in place.

Sarah dropped her pots at the edge of the lake. “That's what Beatrice keeps saying, but how long do we have to stay here before we can leave?” She pointed out over the water. “If we're going to be here much longer, you have to at least teach us how to swim. How are we supposed to help fish if I can't even go in past my knees?”

“This is a good place to rest,” I said. “We have supplies here, and we don't need a lookout at night. We should stay a day or two more.” I stared at a spot across the lake, just barely able to see Ruby and Pip behind the trees. They went out every morning, alone, gathering berries and wild grapes. I didn't know if it would ever seem like enough time here. Three days or thirty, when I left I'd be leaving them all over again.

I pulled my sweater down, over the width of my stomach, making sure it was covered. Every day my body felt different. I'd traded my worn jeans for wider pants, adjusting the belt. My breasts were swollen and sore, my face fuller, and I could feel my stomach expanding out, growing harder to conceal. I hadn't wanted to tell the girls. I'd imagined how it would change their perception of me, that I might seem weaker, more vulnerable if they knew. When we were back on the road, dividing our meager supplies, I didn't want them worrying that there wasn't enough. Beatrice and Clara had already insisted on sharing their small portions, trying to keep up my energy on the way to the dugout.

Then there was Caleb. It had been so long since I'd spoken his name out loud. How could I explain what had happened between us? How could the girls understand that I'd not only spent time with him but that I had loved him? Wasn't I just like those women the Teachers had always spoken about, ruined, in some ways, by that love? It was as though some invisible wall had been erected, separating me from everyone else. Now that Caleb was dead, what was I supposed to do with the love I still felt? Where was it all supposed to go?