Z 2134 (7 page)

Jonah was about to run down the ramp to
find somewhere safe to go until someone showed up to declare him a winner.

However, more zombies had gathered below,
headed toward the ramp.

“Shit!”

He turned around and headed back up the
ramp. The zombies were feasting on Bear’s ample corpse, but they wouldn’t be
distracted for long.

He couldn’t go in the cage. And he
couldn’t lock it.

He’d have to climb it and get on top. But
to do that, he’d have to circle halfway around the ledge and hope to God that
the zombies didn’t see him before he could flee their reach.

He glanced down to see at least six
zombies heading up the ramp. They weren’t running, but it would be less than a
couple of minutes before they reached him.

He began making his way around the lip of
the Mesa platform, which extended just two feet around the cage in every
direction.

The only crossbar within reach was around
the corner, about 30 feet away.

Jonah forced himself to move faster,
gripping the bars tight as he navigated the outside of the cage. Just as he
rounded the corner, one of the zombies was pushed from the pack feasting on
Bear. It looked up and saw Jonah standing on the other side of the bars.

It shrieked, drawing the attention of the
others.

“Fuck!” Jonah screamed, as he was still
10 feet away from the crossbars and would have to pull himself up once there.

He raced, his heart pounding against his
chest as he went bar to bar, and finally reached the crossbar. Just as he
reached it, a zombie’s face and wide-open rotting mouth greeted him with a
scream — just inches away and reaching for Jonah.

Jonah’s foot slipped and he fell, hitting
his knee hard, as his hand slipped down the bar, and sent the bulk of his body
over the ledge. Somehow he barely held onto the bar as the rest of his body
slipped down, coming to a sudden wrenching stop as his shoulder exploded in
fiery pain.

But he held on, the rest of his body dangling
off the Mesa platform.

His relief was short-lived, however, as
he felt the zombie clawing at his hand.

Jonah brought his left hand up, grabbed
the edge of the Mesa platform, then let his right hand release the bar and fall
to the edge of the platform, where he held on for dear life by the tips of his
fingers. Six zombies gathered, shoving themselves at the bars just above,
moaning, screeching, and reaching through the bars, swiping at him.

Jonah moved his hands repeatedly to avoid
their swings as his fingers felt like they might fall off at any second.

He looked down. The ground beneath him
was soft with snow, but the snow wasn’t that deep. And there were more zombies
gathering beneath him.

He had nowhere to go.

Just when Jonah figured the drop’s instant
death might be better than getting grabbed and pulled into the cage, two orbs
flew into sight and hovered above him, displaying a screen filled with people
in the studio audience at City 1, cheering.

“This might be the best finish on record,
ladies and gentleman!” Kirkman proclaimed from the orb’s speakers. “WOW! We’ll
be talking about this Darwin Final between Jonah Lovecraft and Dimitri “Bear”
Aronofsky for years!”

One of the zombie’s hands grabbed ahold
of Jonah’s right hand, and he yanked it back, nearly losing his grip with his
left hand in the process.

He cried out, “Get me outta here!”

Suddenly Jonah felt a harness threading
itself around his chest, then a tightening pressure as he was slowly pulled
toward a silent hovercopter above.

Kirkman continued from both orbs on
either side of Jonah as he floated up and away from the cage, looking down at
the screaming zombies and the fleshy, bloody remains of Bear.

“Any last words for the final few seconds
of the Finish, Jonah?”

The orb went silent, waiting.

Jonah was too tired to say a word and had
nothing to say even if he weren’t exhausted. He shook his head, trying to keep
from passing out.

“Oh no,” Kirkman chimed. “Looks like
Jonah needs a nap!”

The screen suddenly brightened and showed
Jonah’s face in a live action shot. The words “WINNER” were written in bold
blue beneath him.

“Jonah Lovecraft is our newest Darwin
Games winner!” Kirkman shouted. “He will now be cleaned up and rubbed down, and
will get a reminder of what it means to be a man as he’s prepared by The Darwin
Games producers for his first-class trip to the rest of his life in SUNNY City
7!”

The screen suddenly lit with vibrant
images of City 7, showing Jonah the same sight the crowds were seeing — in
every bar, public square, dark alley, and private home in all the Cities.

Kirkman then spoke the mantra that was
spoken before the end of every broadcast: “All hail the one true leader,
Geralt.”

The audience said, “All hail!” and broke
into a round of applause. Jonah was sure some of the applause was for Geralt,
but he also knew at least some of the people — those who sought change in the
system — were secretly applauding his win.

Jonah stared at the screen and hope
swelled in his chest, so intense he thought he might cry.

Like every second of footage he had seen
since he could remember, City 7 was gorgeous, so clean it shimmered, especially
when compared to City 6’s all-too-lived-in streets and alleyways.

The pixels of City 7 were every one of
them Paradise: people either relaxing, or stuffing their faces with heaping
plates of piled pasta and lean meats — the opposite of the packaged synthetics
found behind the walls of City 6. There were tall glasses filled with richly
colored wine and spirits, and beaches swarming with beautiful men and women wearing
nothing but their smiles.

Jonah’s body was lifted into the
hovercopter.

Kirkman’s voice invaded the copter’s
interior as the orb hovered an inch from his face and he asked if the first
thing Jonah wanted to do in City 7 was take a nap.

Jonah opened his mouth to answer, then
passed out instead.

Inside The Walls of City 6

Sunday

I
t took Ana a day’s worth of courage to
finally visit the church. Then when she did, she spent the service sitting
alone, wishing she hadn’t been so stupid.

It wasn’t easy getting to the church
since Ana didn’t want Adam to know she wasn’t around. She got Michael to look
after him while she was gone, which made her feel bad since he’d already spent
the morning in jail defending her name.

Michael pulled Adam from Chimney Rock
with a day pass. He was one of two authorized white-card friends who could sign
her little brother out for a four-hour interval, twice per month. This
particular day pass bought Adam a half-day in the Arcade — his favorite place
in the world. Michael loved the Arcade, too. Of course, everyone did.

The Arcade was filled with every game,
movie, and digital book in The City’s library. It was a digital paradise.
Beyond the countless games and miscellaneous media, there were long aisles of
simulators, though unlike everything else in the Arcade, simulator time had to
be booked. It was the most popular part of the Arcade by far, so walk-ins were
never available.

The Arcade offered everything from foods
you could never eat otherwise to lovers real life would never allow you to
taste. Adam hadn’t visited any of the adult delicacies, but Michael had, even
though he wouldn’t while at the Arcade with Adam, and it had taken him a
forever and a half to admit the truth to Ana the first time he did.

She imagined Michael at the Arcade with
Adam, standing in line for the virtual coasters, eating fry bread dusted with
sweetener, and maybe catching a movie — probably
Interior Solace,
the
story of the Third Plague and Jonathan Clark’s midnight ride into the forests
just outside City 2.

Interior Solace
was one of Michael’s favorites, and Ana
hoped he was able to share it with Adam, who had never seen it before. Michael
was good to her, the best. No one else in her life would have ever risen to
defend her like that, or gone to jail for the honor.

Michael had, and had done so without
flinching.

Ana’s mind flashed to Liam, and she
couldn't help but wonder if he’d made it out of jail. She hadn’t seen him since
the incident at The Social, not that she ran in the same circles as he did,
anyway. But Ana was worried and couldn’t help but feel responsible for Liam’s
whereabouts, even though he had started the whole incident.

Ana asked Michael if he knew what
happened to Liam, but he wouldn’t even look at her when he answered that he
didn’t know, or particularly care, what happened to the “jerk.”

Ana turned her attention back to the
pulpit. The pastor was the same black man — Duncan — she had met at The Social.

As Ana sat in a pew with her hands folded
in her lap, looking up at the pulpit like everyone around her, she felt like a
fraud among so many holy people. She wasn’t a believer, and the words flowing
from Duncan’s mouth didn’t sound all that different from the fairy tales her
parents had told her as a child.

Ana wondered why Red Beard had given her
the message to come here. Had he merely been offering her a place of worship,
or did Duncan want to see her? She assumed the latter, given their conversation
at The Social. Perhaps Duncan was going to offer proof she was a “liar,” and
that her dad hadn’t done what she had clearly seen him do, she figured.

Though it would have to be some damned
impressive proof.

There was a small girl to Ana’s left,
tiny really, and adorable enough to crease Ana’s unhappy face with a smile.
Most of the children living in the lower floor apartments of The City looked
malnourished. Their clothes were often threadbare and dirty, no different from
their spirits.

This girl seemed different — scrubbed
rosy, her body clean and almost glowing. Her clothes were thin but well mended
and neatly pressed despite their wear. Her short blond hair was trimmed in a
severe line just beneath her chin. She stared up at the pastor, lightly
swinging her legs, fingers braided and resting in her lap, wearing a smile that
seemed so big and
happy
.

Ana couldn’t ever remember a time being
filled with that much joy.

The girl hung on the pastor’s every word,
singing every song while swinging her feet beneath the pew in front of her.
When Duncan finished speaking, Ana waited for the traffic to pass before
climbing into the open aisle. Ana waited behind the girl, waiting to see where
her parents were. But nobody came for the girl.

She just sat there, smiling, watching the
pastor.

Ana leaned over the aisle, “Are you here
alone?”

The girl turned to Ana and said, “Yes,
Mommy and Daddy let me come to church whenever I want. They said it’s better
than being at home and watching The Games.”

Ana swallowed, still confused about
whether she should be celebrating or mourning her father’s win this morning,
which she had seen just as she was leaving for church.

“I haven’t seen you before,” the girl
said, looking sideways at Ana. “Was this your first time at church?”

Ana nodded.

The girl smiled. “It’s great to have
you,” she said. “Father Duncan says we can never have too many people in
church.” After a pause, barely long enough to draw a decent breath, she said,
“My name’s Iris, what’s yours?”

She had “Ana” in her throat, then choked
on it and said, “Rebecca” instead.

“Nice to meet you, Rebecca.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Ana said.

She was about to ask Iris where she lived
when she felt a strong hand on her tightened shoulder. “Come with me,” Duncan’s
soft, firm voice said from behind her. Ana turned and met Duncan’s eyes, larger
than what she remembered from The Social, and infinitely sadder. “I have
something to show you,” he said.

Ana said nothing, just nodded, turned to
Iris, and waved goodbye, then followed Duncan through the church, past the
pulpit, then down some stairs and into the basement where there was a handful
of kids and grownups sharing food and discussion.

Despite the good-bye, Iris followed them
anyway, jumping from the second to the final step, then onto the basement floor
just a beat behind them, practically skipping across the room to the table on
the far wall, where she grabbed a piece of bread with a layer of sweetener
crusted across the top, then started nibbling on the end, like she probably did
every week.

Ana gave Iris a one-fingered wave, her
curled pointer bouncing up and down from across the room. Iris looked up,
smiled with her crumb-coated mouth, then waved back at Ana with her entire
hand.

Ana turned to Duncan. “Mind if I sit?”
she asked, then made her way across the room to a tattered fabric chair in the
corner — the only unoccupied seat in the room — before Duncan could answer. Ana
tried to swallow her rising tide of panic while slowly breathing through an
obvious new truth: the church, and everyone in the basement, were clearly
members of The Underground.