Silo

Chapter 22

We weren't planning on staying, just making our presence known and then returning to the safety of our own silo. There were seven of them and four of us, really only two if you took Evan and Meredith out of play-it's not like either of them were exactly well versed in fighting. Our only advantage was the cache of weapons we accumulated and practiced with. If we made them come to us, we had a fighting chance. If we got into it on their turf, we didn't have a prayer.  

"You lived down there what...ten months?" Keith asked as he tossed an empty pack and flashlight in my direction. 

"Thirty-eight weeks and five days," Meredith replied.  

"Thirty-eight weeks," I whispered. For the first time, I actually realized how long we'd been stuck here, how long it'd been since I'd seen my parents. Since I'd pitched a ball. Since I'd slept in my own bed. I glanced at the stains on my mattress, their exact locations and shapes carved into my mind after lying awake so many nights. I'd give anything for a decent night sleep, a solid eight hours that wasn't plagued with nightmares of the crash and useless what-ifs.  

"What day is it?" I asked. The answer didn't matter-days of the week ceased to be important when the threat of finals exams was overshadowed by mere survival-but I asked anyway. 

Evan paused, then stood up to read the crude calendar he'd scratched out on his bedroom wall. It was Merry who answered though, opened her journal to the last page and read the date. "Tuesday." 

Keith shook his head, totally disinterested in my stupid revelation. "Who the hell cares what day it is?" He grabbed my pack off the floor and started assembling the contents himself. "The way I see it, she's got to know their schedule, probably knows where they go every day and what time they usually come back." 

"I wouldn't worry about them, it's-" 

Keith silenced her with a quick wave of is hand. "I don't give a shit about him," Keith said as he jammed a third knife and a box of ammo into my pack. "He's as good as dead in my book. It's the other six kids with him I want to know about." 

"I don't know anything," Meredith said, her eyes skipping nervously over mine. "Yeah, I'm not buying that," Keith fired back. "Nearly ten months is a lot of time to spend with a bunch of kids that you don't know" 

"I don't know anything about them. I wasn't allowed to talk to them, was barely ever in the same room. He'd gather them together, go out to raid a farmhouse or a store, and then come back. So long as they kept their mouths shut and did what he told them to, then he'd let them stay, make sure they had food and a safe place to sleep." 

"So you're saying they just did as he said, no questions asked?" 

She shrugged; Keith's statement was apparently true. "What other choice did they have?" she asked. "It's not like they'd survive outside. They were barely alive when he found them." 

"Any of them touch you?" Keith asked. I saw the tick in his jaw, knew right then and there that her answer would determine who he let live. "Did he touch you?" 

"No. None of the other kids were allowed near me. I was his." 

"Who is he?" Evan asked. 

"Doesn't matter," Keith answered, quickly changing the subject. "I want to know their schedule, where the hell they go every day, and what time they come back."  

"Nowhere in particular. They've already looted most of the houses and stores in town, and all the other silos are empty. I think they just walk around. Our silo isn't as big as yours, and the ventilation shafts don't work right. He used to complain about being cooped up for too long, said he couldn't think surrounded by concrete walls" 

"Did you ever go outside with them?" I asked, already knowing the answer. The fact that we found her alone and huddled into the corner of that foul-smelling room was all the answer I needed. 

"At the beginning, but..." Meredith trailed off, and I didn't ask her to explain. The glossy look her eyes told me to let it go. 

"So when do they leave?" Keith asked, his fingers twitching as he waited for her response. He was plotting, engineering an invasion we both knew could be deadly without a firm knowledge of their schedule. 

"I don't know. Depends." 

"On what?" he asked. 

Meredith shrugged, not giving him anything useful to go on.  

"Okay, let's try it this way. How long are they usually gone for?"  

"Couple hours. Sometimes more, sometimes less." 

It was the sometimes less part that had me shoving an extra knife into my boot. 

"Which direction to they usually head in?" Keith asked, his patience with her vague answers impressive. 

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "When you came back for me...that was the first time I'd been outside in months." 

Keith grumbled something about her being overly helpful and tossed my now fully stocked pack at me. "I got to get some stuff from my room. I'll meet you guys topside in fifteen minutes." 

I waited until Keith was across the hall before I stood up and closed the door to my room. The way I saw it, I had two options: leave her here with a knife and pray they didn't make another surprise appearance while we were gone, or drag her out there with us. The right thing to do was to give her the choice, lay out her options and let her decide. But I couldn't do that. I wouldn't. 

"I'll give you a pair of Evan's pants. They'll be big, but I can give you a piece of rope to tighten them," I said as I dug through the stack of communal clothes looking for the smallest size I could find. "I have an extra coat, but no gloves so we'll have to tape a couple of pairs of socks around your hands." 

I heard the weighted sigh of her breath and purposefully kept my head down to avoid seeing the fear I knew was echoed in her eyes. "It's about six miles each way, and I figure it's still icy and cold. We can bring the sled if you don't think you can make but to be honest, it will slow us down. And with all the shit going on right now, I want to get in and out as fast as we can." 

"I'm not going," she said, and I turned around, caught myself fixated on the lone tear tracing down her cheek. "You can't make me go back there. I won't." 

I dropped the pile of clothes I had in my hand and stood there staring at her, completely aware of the hell I was asking her to re-live, knowing full well I wasn't going to give her an option. I wanted to grab her, pull her into me arms, and remind her that I would never let her get hurt again. But I didn't dare. All it would take was one touch, one desperate plea to stay, and I would give her whatever she wanted, send the only two friends I had left in this world out there on their own. I couldn't let that happen. 

"I can't leave you behind. I did that once and look what happened," I said, waving my hand in the direction of the slowly healing gash along the side of her head.  

She stood up, tore the quilt from around her shoulders, and walked over to me. Rising up on her tippy toes, she met my eyes and gave me a not so gentle shove backwards. "I can take care of myself." 

Had the situation not been so serious, I would've laughed at the stupidity of that statement. "I don't want you to have to take care of yourself," I said. "I want you let me worry about how warm you are, where your next meal is going to come from, and whether it is safe for you to close your eyes at night." 

She went to argue and I held up my hand, trying hard to reign in the frustration I could feel threatening to break free. "Have I ever hurt you? Have I ever once done anything to make you think I wouldn't keep you safe?" 

She shook her head, her eyes trailing to the pile of clothes at my feet. 

"Exactly," I said. "So I think I deserve a little bit of trust here, Meredith, don't you?" 

"That's not the point," she said as she reached for a pair of pants.  

"It is the point," I said, beyond irritated. "And I get that you want to take care of yourself. I'll teach you how to use every weapon in this place if you want, but not yet, Meredith. Not yet."