Kassy Tayler: Remnants of Tomorrow

“He’s been treated much the same as you, although his accommodations are not as luxurious.”

I can only assume Levi is being held in the cells below, much like Jon was when we were my father’s guests before. “What about Pace?” I ask.

“Pace has been reunited with his mother and is quite content.” He says dismissively and then he leans forward. “Tell me more about this airship and the rumors of America.”

His remark about Pace bothers me, yet I cannot let his statement about America go unchallenged. “America is not a rumor,” I say. “It is a real place. You know it has to be, as it existed before the comet. It is in the history books. The ones my people were not allowed to read.” I cant my head to the side as if that will allow me to see him better. “You know there have to be other places in the world that survived,” I say. “We are not the only society left on earth.”

“Thus the need to remain inside,” my father states. “Where it is safe.”

“You plan to live the rest of your life in fear?” I challenge him. “In hiding?”

“I do not consider it to be hiding. I consider it to be prudent behavior.” He steeples his fingers—a habit of his, I realize—and studies me. “Be honest with me, Wren,” he begins. “Life is not easy out there.”

“No,” I confess. “It isn’t. We were ill prepared for it. If not for Levi’s family, we would have had a very hard time of it.” I look my father in the eye. “Even without their help, I would still do it. It is worth the risk. Anything worth having is worth the risk.”

“And what do you have out there? Food? Shelter? Safety?”

“We have the right to choose for ourselves.” I say with a sense of satisfaction.

“All you have chosen is a certain death at the hands of the rovers.”

“They can be beaten,” I say. “We have survived two attacks. They suffered more losses than we did. We can survive more.”

His dark eyes move over me in assessment. What does he see when he looks at me? I still bear the remnants of the battles I fought on my face, although they have faded since I came inside. I do not flinch from his gaze, but inside my heart is pounding as I wait for his next words as if my very life depends upon them. In a way, it does. He has the power to do anything he wants, and unfortunately I am at his mercy, as is Levi. Pace, I am not so sure about. What did my father mean when he said he was content?

“It seems I have underestimated your capabilities,” he finally says, and sits back in his chair. “Findley!” He raises his voice. The door opens, and I realize my guard has remained stationed right outside during our visit. Or maybe I should say interrogation. “Escort Miss MacAvoy back to her quarters,” my father instructs, and he goes back to his paperwork, dismissing me as if I am already gone from his presence.

“Wait!” I say as Findley takes my arm. “What about Levi? I want to see him. I want to see Pace.”

He stops at his task and looks at me once again. “I find it interesting that you said Levi’s name ahead of Pace’s. And here I thought Pace was the love of your life.”

I am momentarily stunned by his observation. I never told my father about my relationship with Pace. Which means it had to come from Pace, unless there is someone else I don’t know about who he holds prisoner. Could it be Lucy and David? But why would they even have a need to discuss my feelings for Pace?

My father nods his head at Findley, who pulls me from the chair. I jerk my arm from his grasp and slam my hands down on my father’s desk. His eyes dart upward to glance at me with impatience for a brief moment before they turn back to his papers.

“You can ignore me all you want,” I say. “But that will not make me disappear, any more than it will make the world out there go away. You will have to deal with it and me, eventually, whether you want to or not.”

Findley takes my arm, more firmly this time, and pulls me away from my father. I pull against him, indignant at his and my father’s disregard for me, until we reach the hallway and he shuts the door behind us. He releases me, and I am tempted to kick him and make a run for it, but I know I will not get far and I will not leave Pace or Levi behind until I am certain of their safety.

“How much longer will you pretend that there is not a world out there?” I ask Findley. “The dome is dying and everyone knows it, inside and out.” He doesn’t answer me, just pushes me toward the staircase.

Ellen comes through the door as we approach it, and she stares at me with the same disdain as always. As I am escorted to the staircase I hear her rap on the door and my father’s command to enter. I manage to glance her way before the door closes behind me and see her do something I have not seen before. She smiles as she walks into his presence.

My father called me Miss MacAvoy when he dismissed me from his office. I am certain he said it to remind me of my place, which he considers to be deep beneath the ground. Possibly in a grave, if he has his way about it. Not that I think he would kill me, personally, but neither would he go out of his way to save my life, if the occasion should arise. I am nothing more to him than a constant reminder of his moment of weakness with my mother.

So much for my hope to make him see reason. That lasted about as long as our meeting. I change back into my shiner clothes and go to the window once more.

My solitude is my enemy. It leaves me with nothing to do but dwell on my many mistakes. “What about Levi? I want to see him. I want to see Pace.” Just because I said Levi’s name first does not mean I value him more than Pace, does it?

I can’t forget about Pace that easily. We shared so much since we met. Without him, I never would have had the strength to do what I did. He is so kind and gentle and sweet, while Levi is … dangerous. I still need time to figure things out. Unfortunately, the time that I have is not helping me with that dilemma; it has just given me another one.

The knock on my door comes as a surprise to me since I just got back and it is a long while until dinner. Findley comes in and announces, “You are to come with me.”

“Where are we going?” I ask. He doesn’t answer as he stands in the doorway waiting on me. I study him for a moment, hoping to see some indication of what awaits me. He has that look that is hard to define. His face is easily lost in a crowd, yet his eyes see everything. They have a slight crinkling around them that makes me think he spends most of his time watching, but for what I do not have a clue, neither is he likely to tell me. My father apparently trusts him completely. I cannot help but wonder what he has done to earn that trust.

Findley motions me toward the door that holds the staircase. “Are you getting tired of using the stairs instead of the lift?” I ask.

“No,” he replies, and the fact that he has even bothered to answer me catches me off guard. “It keeps me fit,” he continues. He sweeps his arm at the down staircase. I’d assumed we were going up to see my father again so I am momentarily taken aback. Perhaps I am going to my execution. Or the opposite, I’m to be thrown outside again so I won’t be a nuisance to my father.

I go down the stairs. Findley stays on my heels and keeps me within reach. I do not fool myself into thinking I can outrun him on the stairs. He would grab me before I took three steps. If he takes me outside, I might have a chance of escaping into the alleyways, but then I recall that the streets were eerily empty of the scarabs.

I stumble as we round the landing and start down another set of steps. Before we came inside, two of my friends went to the entrance of the dome on a scouting mission. Jon and Peter reported that there were burned bodies staked outside. Men, women, and children. And Ellen had said something to me this morning about being lucky that I wasn’t burned with the rest of the trash.