Z 2134 (33 page)

“What?” Jonah
said, stupidly afraid she would ask him about the birds and the bees, or some
other crap he’d not even discussed with Ana.

“I want to know
about my real mom, and why Dad says you killed her.”

He’d rather
discuss the birds and bees.

Calla asked,
“What was she like?”

“I didn’t really
know her,” Jonah said. “But from the pictures I’ve seen, and when I saw her in
court, she was beautiful. She had long brown hair, like yours. Big blue eyes,
and a gentle voice; soft spoken, like you. You look a lot like her, actually.”

Calla’s lips
split into the first smile Jonah had seen on her since first coming down into
the tunnel. Tears seemed to threaten his eyes.

“What else?”
Calla said, almost demanding.

“She loved your
father very much.”

“How do you
know?”

Jonah wished he
hadn’t stepped into that particular batch of quicksand. “She begged for the
judge to show mercy on your father, to keep him from jail, like many wives
begging for their husbands. But hers wasn’t the mindless whine of someone who
didn’t care. The way she spoke of your father,” Jonah held the little girl’s
stare, “with tears in her eyes and honesty in her voice — she truly loved him.
It was in every note as she pled with the judge, swearing he was a sweet,
dedicated husband and father; a good man incapable of the crimes assigned to
his otherwise good name.”

“Then why did
they put him in jail?” she said, swallowing her tears. “Why did you lie?”

He continued to
hold her eyes. “What did your father tell you?”

“Not much, but I
listened outside in the hall when you two were talking a few times. I heard
some things. I want to know more.” Her eyes were a fire on Jonah. “Why did you
lie?”

“At the time, my
bosses told me your father was a bad man. Dangerous, they said. They asked me
to say something untrue, but I didn’t know it was false when I agreed. It’s
difficult to explain,” he cleared his throat, trying not to feel like a
monster, “but the short answer is, I did as told. And I’ve regretted the lie
every day since.”

“So, what
happened to my mom?” Calla asked, tears flooding down both cheeks as she wiped
her nose with a dirty kerchief pulled from her pants pocket.

“You don’t
know?”

“Only that she
died; Dad never said why or how.”

“Maybe you
should ask him again. I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

“Please,
mister,” Calla begged. “Nobody tells me anything, and I deserve to know. She
was
my
mother.”

Jonah’s words
were trapped in his throat. Everything had changed. Five minutes ago, he had pictured
the tunnels packed with people, but now he knew that was a lie. Just like his
trial. With no council or fair judgement, Egan would likely kill him without a
thought.

If Egan was
about to kill Jonah, survival depended on getting out of the room and on the
run immediately. Calla was his only chance. He had to persuade her to free him.

“Are you sure
you want to know?”

Calla nodded,
still crying.

“Tell you what,”
Jonah said, feeling like shit for manipulating a little girl whose mother he’d
already taken, even if indirectly. Yet, he had to swallow his self-loathing — his
daughter’s life depended on it. “If you cut these ropes and let me go, I’ll
tell you whatever you want.”

Calla stared at
Jonah for six seconds. On the seventh she shook her head and took a few steps
back.

“Please,” Jonah
said. “I would never ask you for something like this or use your mother as
bait, but I love my daughter as much as your mother loved you. I’m so sorry
about what happened to your mom. If I could take back anything in the world,
that would be it, but I can’t. I can save Ana, though, or at least try.
Unfortunately, I don’t think your father plans to let me leave.” Jonah peered
into her eyes, causing Calla to flinch and fall another step back. “Do you?”

“No,” her tears
fell faster. “He’s going to kill you.”

“I don’t blame
him, and you shouldn’t either. He’s upset about what happened to his life, to
you, your mom, and your brother. He blames me, and I understand why. I agree, I
should pay
for my crimes, and I promise to return after I save Ana, if I
don’t get killed outside while trying to find her. Your father can put me on
trial, or hell, he can shoot me while I kneel and wait for the bullet.”

Jonah lowered
his voice and met the girl’s eyes. “I deserve it and won’t fight my punishment.
You have my vow. But I must get out of here, or otherwise my daughter will die.
You understand, right?”

Calla nodded.

“Tell me
something about my mother,” the girl said, making no promise.

Jonah took the
girl on faith and told her a story about her mother.

“After your
father was cast outside The Wall, your mother fell completely apart.
Eventually, she was forced to live in the Dark Quarters. Do you know what that
means?”

Calla nodded,
and Jonah continued.

“The Dark
Quarters is a miserable place, and the people who live there are often forced
into doing horrible things.”

“Is that what
happened to my mom?”

“Yes,” Jonah
nodded. “She was taken advantage of by some awful people. Eventually, someone
killed her.” Jonah let his voice crack for effect, feeling like shit for his
manipulation, but knowing Ana’s chances were dimming by the minute. “They never
found her killer.”

“Did you see
her?” Calla said, her voice surprisingly strong. “When she was dead?”

“Yes. I was
called in, the second Watchman on the scene.”

“Why didn’t you
find her killer?”

Jonah stared at
the girl, not wanting to bullshit her, but not cruel enough to tell her the
truth — that her mother’s life didn’t matter enough to warrant investigation.
Like anyone else living in the Quarters, she was a tick in a box in a column
whose numbers meant nothing.

“There wasn’t
any evidence to narrow the suspects,” he said. “Too much crime in the Dark
Quarters to keep track.” That much was true. Calla’s mother could have been
murdered by any one of the thousands of dirtbags living in the Quarters.

“I’m sorry.” He
shook his head. “It’s not much, and if I could go back in time and change
things, I would.” He held Calla’s eyes and sent every molecule of truth from
his lenses to hers. “I never would have helped put your daddy in jail.”

“Where was I?”

“Huh?” Jonah
asked.

“When my mom
died. Where was I?”

“You were crying
in a crib in the corner,” Jonah said, remembering the memory he’d tried not to
replay.

“Did I see what
happened?”

“I don’t know.
You were just a baby. And after that, The City took you to the orphanage. And
that’s the last I saw of you. I figured you were still there until I saw you
here.”

Calla kept
staring, as though studying Jonah, perhaps unsure what she should say. He
wondered if she was going to ask why he’d never checked up on her in the
orphanage. He didn’t know what he’d say to that question. Yet another guilty
log to add to the fire. He tried not to shift, even as uncomfortable as he was
in his seat. Finally, she said something Jonah didn’t see coming.

“What does icy
cream taste like?”

Jonah laughed
out loud; he couldn’t help it. Of the many things he expected, that wouldn’t
have made the longest list. His laugh died to a smile, and he said, “It’s
called
ice cream
, and it’s wonderful.” He licked his lips, tasting the
memory. “Ice cream is like sweet, creamy, frozen milk, but soft, not hard. Like
snow, if it tasted good, and was creamy and thick. And as the cream fills your
mouth, it turns your teeth as cold as your cheeks. There are a ton of flavors,
at least in the arcade, but in regular cafes it usually comes in mint or
chocolate chip. The chips melt on your tongue, and the mint is like spicy if
spicy was cold. Regular rations are always vanilla. But even that is good.”

“How do you eat
it?”

Jonah laughed
again. “Like anything else, I suppose. You can’t eat it fast. When you set the
spoon in your mouth, the cream melts on your tongue, all over your tastebuds,
almost like it’s kissing them. The world looks different when you have ice cream
in your mouth.”

Something inside
Calla softened enough to draw a smile on her face for the second time. It
quickly turned into a laugh. She pulled the knife from its sheath, then went to
Jonah. Because he was still tied to a chair, he flinched, thinking for a
second’s thin slice that the girl might have changed her mind and was on her
way to slit his throat like he deserved. Then he saw her big blue eyes and all
the missing hate. He wondered if it was possible to outgrow anger.

Could she
forgive him?

And if so, could
her father forgive him as well?

Most
importantly, would he ever be able to forgive himself?

Calla cut the
ropes from Jonah’s wrists, and his restraints fell to the floor. As he stood
up, his body felt on fire with a million tiny needles. He stretched his
muscles, preparing for whatever lay beyond the door.

He said, “Thank
you, Calla. I promise you won’t regret it. Now, can you tell me the best way to
get out of here?”

“Everyone is
eating lunch right now,” she said. “Well, except for me. I’ve been gone too
long, and I need to get back.” She pointed at the door. “As long as you stay on
the tunnel path, you should be fine. Take your first left, then head down the
stairs. When you reach the bottom, you’ll see the old tracks. Take those until
you find the branch. Go right, then walk until you reach the ladder. Take that
above ground.”

“Are you going
to be OK?” Jonah said. “What will you tell your father?”

“Don’t worry
about me.” Calla shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

Calla then said,
“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Treating me
like a grownup and telling me the truth.”

Jonah wiped his
other eye. “You’re welcome,” he said. “And thank YOU.”

Calla turned
without another word and ran out the door and down the hall. He waited for her
footsteps to fall silent, then opened the door and turned left as instructed.

The hallway was
dark and narrow, lit by sporadic blinking light tubes not unlike those in the
room he was being held in. The tunnel was cold, eerily silent, and felt like an
ever-present weight surrounding him on all sides, waiting to come crashing
down.

As he followed
the directions Calla had given, he listened intently for any sound that his
escape had been detected. As he moved farther from his cell, he allowed himself
to move faster, ignoring the sound of his footsteps echoing back at him.

He reached the
ladder Calla had mentioned and noticed a small pile of debris to his left — broken
crates, old books, old empty tin food cans, and a metal pipe that was thin and
light enough to wield but long and strong enough to swing at an enemy.

It wasn’t a gun,
but it was better than nothing.

He grabbed the
pipe and put the end of it in his boot temporarily as he climbed the ladder,
lifted the hatch, and then crawled into the impossibly bright light of a new
day.

I’m here,
Ana! I’m coming!

The hatch opened
into a snowy clearing surrounded by woods on all sides. There was no other sign
of the train station, its entrance, or underground tunnels within sight. But if
he could find his way to the station while avoiding being seen, he could then
locate where the underground tracks came up aboveground. Then he could follow
those back to where The Games were being held.

First, however,
he had to get out of sight.

He ran toward a
tree-lined ridge in the distance, figuring once he was out of sight, he could
double back and find the tracks. He’d made it maybe 40 yards when a gunshot
cracked like thunder on the dry, cold air.

Jonah turned and
saw Egan behind him, running in angry pursuit.

A
dam sat before
Keller, terrified.

“Why so
worried?” the Chief of City Watch said, sitting on the other side of the
massive schoolmaster’s desk. “You’re not here because you’re in trouble, son.
You’re here because you need my help.” He smiled again, but Adam had trouble
meeting his eyes.

“Please, I can’t
help you unless you help me first. I need you to tell me what happened. You’ve
nothing to be ashamed of. Remember our talk and what I told you about fear,
Adam. Courage isn’t the lack of fear, but rather, action in its face. Are you
ready to take action?”

Adam didn’t nod,
shake his head, or say a single word.

Keller said,
“The only way to solve our little problem, and it is
our
problem, Adam,
since your problems are my problems now. That’s what it means to have true
friends. Our problems aren’t solved until you earn respect, and you’ll only
earn respect if you target the strongest bully in the bunch and bring him to
his knees. Are you ready to do that?”