Of course, the idea of the runners might help with the latter issue, though I am still not sure how I feel about that process—if it is wise, or good. Or if it matters?
And then there is everything it takes to . . . acquire new subjects, these days. Together, the Warden and I have been able to find a way to temporarily synthesize the genetic properties from an enhanced individual’s blood, which I can then use for very short durations of time to venture out into those Other places. It’s so I can find them—the enhanced. This, I know, is necessary. But it is hard to remember that in the midst of all the messiness that must take place.
My time at the building, while productive, has been lonelier recently than in years past. Miranda often stays home now, looking after Mary. She refuses to bring her here. We have more than enough children around Mary’s age within the Eschatorologic with whom she could play, all very bright and well behaved. I think it would be good for her to connect with them, but Miranda disagrees. Strongly.
She won’t let me test Mary, either. I wish she would. I highly doubt she would have the anomaly, given the extreme rarity of it, paired with the fact that neither Miranda nor I possess it. However, I think it would be pragmatic to check, anyway. One never knows.
Everly had finished reading the entry and had to set the book down. Mary. Her mother. She tried to picture her as a child. What had she been like? Had she been wild and energetic, or more inquisitive and reserved, as Everly herself had been at a young age? Would she have liked it here, at the Eschatorologic? Would she have made the same mistakes Everly had?
She wished her dad were here to talk about her mom. Or Richard, at the very least. Someone who had known her, as Everly hadn’t truly been given the chance to.
And then, unbidden, Everly’s mind began to stray to different images.
Room after room after room after room of women.
The same woman.
Women who looked an awful lot like how she remembered her mother looking.
No. Everly shook her head, dispelling the awful thought of that floor upstairs. Of those people.
Everly shuddered and had to slam the journal shut to keep her hands from shaking. She now knew what must have happened in that room upstairs to lead to it being so coated in blood.
She now knew.
And something else she had gleaned from the journal: the Warden was a woman.
One tiny clue to this hidden person who held the keys to controlling all their lives.
The one who stuck them all in those white rooms, one at a time.
Later, sitting next to Luca in the dining hall for breakfast, Everly clenched her eyes shut, trying to block out the images—of that room, that floor, those people—but it only made the memories more vibrant, more real.
After breakfast, Everly followed Luca around the building, almost in a daze, trying to block out everything she still wasn’t ready to process. She still grunted slightly with the lingering soreness in her bones as she walked but was surprisingly more recovered than she would have anticipated only nine days after what had happened in that white room.
Whatever it was that had happened.
She still couldn’t fully remember, and Luca kept telling her that that was good, that she wouldn’t want to, that she should enjoy not knowing as long as she could. It didn’t help curb her need to understand.
Maybe, she would think desperately to herself, if she knew what had happened, she could stop it from happening again. She could be better prepared next time.
Of course, this was a very naive and foolish hope, but often that is what the desperate most need to get through the day: the barest glimpse of a way out.
Everly and Luca made their way from room to room, carrying out each mindless task in a brisk and methodical fashion, until finally they reached the surveillance room.
This, too, began as it would any other day: Luca watched the screens, and Everly watched Luca. She liked to see the way his eyes roved over the faces and motions of residents on the screens, liked to observe the way his brow would furrow when he thought he might have caught sight of something interesting, or something terrifying. It was only because she was watching him so closely that she noticed about half an hour after they sat down when his jaw suddenly tightened, and his face completely drained of color.
Everly frowned and was about to ask what was wrong when Luca pushed away from the desk, mumbling something to her about being right back.
With no other choice, Everly leaned back in her chair and studied the screens in Luca’s absence. First, she tried to find him, and when that proved futile she simply allowed her eyes to explore the screens, trying to discover what it was that had set Luca off.
There was nothing. At least, nothing obvious to her. No people where they shouldn’t be. No frantic children, or adults for that matter. No fires to be controlled, no runners to be diverted.
An hour passed before Luca returned. He seemed calm enough, at first, but there was a wildness in the way he looked across the surveillance room, before settling his gaze on Everly. She stood up, stomach churning at even the thought of what might have happened.
“What’s wrong?” Everly asked as Luca came farther into the room.
He searched her face before responding. “I can’t find Caleb. I’ve looked everywhere, checked with everyone I can think of. He’s nowhere. He’s not in his room, or the mess hall, or the dome. No one I’ve talked to has seen him since yesterday afternoon, and I can’t see him on the screens.” He gestured limply to the side of the room dominated by glimpses into the rest of the building, then he lowered his voice. “I don’t know where he’d be, Everly.”
“It’s okay,” she said, trying to keep her own voice steady, trying to reassure him. “We’ll find him. You don’t know that anything bad has happened. Odds are that he’s perfectly fine.”
Luca released a shaky breath, but he didn’t say anything. Tentatively, Everly reached out a hand and set it on his arm.
“We’ll find him, Luca. I’ll go back out with you, and we’ll ask around.”
Luca still didn’t say anything, but he nodded once, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
For a moment, Everly continued to watch Luca, waiting for a reaction, an outburst, but there was nothing. His eyes stared dully at the floor by his feet, flitting upward every few seconds as though seeking after ghosts in the room that Everly couldn’t see. Gently, she took his hand in hers and began to pull him toward the door.
Once they were out in the hall, Everly paused. “Where should we look first?”
As though broken from a trance, Luca straightened, and took in a single, deep breath. “Probably the public access rooms. I checked most of them earlier, but maybe someone has seen him recently.”
Everly followed Luca to the dining hall, which was still full of kids, despite the late hour of the afternoon, as well as a handful of runners standing silently around the perimeter.
Luca scanned the sea of faces, growing frustrated when the one person he wanted to be there was missing. Shoulders hunched, Luca turned back the way they had come, gesturing for Everly to follow.
They quickly ran through a series of rooms that Luca saw as possible places where Caleb might have been, having no luck. After an hour of searching, as they were heading away from the dome, they spotted Anker coming from the opposite hall. When he saw Everly and Luca, Anker’s eyes widened noticeably. Luca, spotting him, shouted out his name. As if realizing that he had nowhere to go, Anker came over, a tight look on his face.
