The Edge of Cascadia Page 2

  The Colony didn’t build the trench to keep people in, but to let everyone know where safety ended and potential danger began. A person leaving needed a permit and a trained guide to make sure they didn’t venture into any radioactive zones. Annabelle had neither. She shuddered thinking of all the infants that had died when her people first left the bunkers. She didn’t know how to avoid the contaminated land, or how much danger it posed to her now.

  She paused and stared into the trench. A gust of wind blew against her back, as if trying to push her across. Cross the trench. There should be a small hill in your view, directly ahead. She glanced up, looking for the hill. The dust had finally started to settle and sure enough she spotted a small hill. All around it a bronzed desert stretched to the horizon, speckled by prickly shrubs. The breeze that remained brought a different fragrance than what she was used to. It smelled faintly tangy and rich with nature.

  Annabelle swallowed hard and jumped the trench before she could talk herself out of it. A thrill jolted through her as she headed toward the hill. She was outside the Colony and aside from her own trepidation, nothing had tried to stop her—it had been so easy. With each step she took, curiosity began to stir within her, chasing some of her fears away. She would get away with this, and it would be exciting to see something new.

  In less than five minutes, she arrived at the hill. She wanted to climb up to the top, to stand there and gaze into the wilderness. Instead, she listened to common sense and walked around to the other side. Go to the far side of the hill. At the halfway point of the hill, dig under the sand until you find planks that cover the entrance. Go down and through the tunnel and enter the room. Once inside, look behind the mirror.

  She headed to the middle of the hill. Upon inspection, she found only regular ground. She couldn’t see any evidence of a hatch, so she stomped her feet around in the sand. Her stomach twisted with worry that it might not be there anymore. On her sixth stomp something lifted the ground a fraction and she smiled with triumph. Gran’s entrance still existed! She dropped to her knees and started brushing the sand away until she hit wooden planks a few inches below. She shoved aside the rest of the sand and flipped the planks over, revealing a shaft. Darkness filled the hole and she couldn’t see how deep it was. Uneasiness started to chase away her momentary victory. She bit her lip, kneeling down to take a look into the hole. Still unable to see anything she retrieved a flashlight from her backpack. She took a deep breath and flicked it on, then pointed the beam down the hole. Gran, I won’t let you down, not now.

  The beam of light illuminated a metal bar embedded in the side of the shaft. Must be a ladder. Holding the flashlight with one hand, she lowered down until a foot landed on the metal bar. She didn’t know how old the ladder was and worried it would break under her weight. She held her breath while continuing down and focused on each step instead of letting panic enter her thoughts.

  Cold air slithered up her legs and tickled her nose with a stale, earthy aroma. She felt like she was descending into the mouth of an unknown creature and had to fight the urge to go back up. She would not turn back now, not after coming this far. Finally, her feet hit solid ground and she lurched back from the ladder, panting. She shone the flashlight around, catching large particles of dust in the beam. There was only one direction to go, so she crouched down to enter a shallow tunnel. The narrow walls and darkness smothered her, choking out her previous sense of freedom.

  Annabelle crept forward, and a minute later arrived at the end of the short tunnel. A hole in the wall lay before her, blocked with debris. She turned the flashlight on it and reached out to investigate. She encountered the smoothness of wooden furniture—the back of a bookcase or dresser.

  She put the flashlight in her mouth and rested both palms on the surface of the wood. She took a breath and tried to push it to the side. It wouldn’t budge. She would have to kick it over.

  Annabelle set her backpack down and rested the flashlight on the top so it illuminated her target. She lined herself parallel to the door and squatted. She clenched her fists and bobbed down once and kicked at the obstruction. The piece of furniture rocked back and forth but settled back in its previous position. Annabelle clenched her fists harder, she needed more force.

  She took a few steps back and then, crouching down, ran full speed with her shoulder first. She made contact and sharp pain shot down her arm as she collapsed forward with the piece of furniture. The force of the abrupt crash reverberated through the room and sent dust flying.

  She rested where she fell, catching her breath. Once the pain in her arm subsided, she retrieved the flashlight and backpack and crept back over the now toppled obstacle.

  She found herself in an empty concrete room with stale air and a low ceiling. Craters dotted the crumbling gray walls, and piles of rubble covered the floor. After a few seconds Annabelle wanted to get out of the dank prison. No wonder her grandfather had built the tunnel as an escape. How had he been able to keep it a secret all these years? And more importantly, where was the key that held another secret?

  CHAPTER TWO

  ANNABELLE

  Annabelle took two deep breaths and set to work looking for the key. The walls were bare apart from a rusty metal door to her right, and a mirrored medicine cabinet to her left. Bingo.

  She approached the mirror. The orange light from her flashlight cast ominous shadows, making her reflection appear sunken and skeletal. She ripped the door open to avoid her image and found three empty shelves. She winced and her heart sank, the key wasn’t there. Either someone had stolen it, or it had fallen out somehow. Gran had feared it getting into the wrong hands. Annabelle hoped that wasn’t the case.

  Annabelle spun around, she needed to find it. She reached inside the wall crevices, sifted through the piles of rubble but found nothing. While she studied every inch of the floor, the darkness closed in around her, the small flashlight unable to keep it at bay. She felt dizzy and found it hard to breathe. She wanted to leave but forced herself to keep looking.

  She paused for a moment to examine the metal door. It rose almost to the ceiling with a lever lifted up from its latch, seemingly in an unlocked position. She stared at the door and tapped her lip with a finger. Her dizziness subsided while she considered what might be on the other side. She had no idea how big the bunker was or what it looked like because her grandparents hated talking about this part of their lives. She had the opportunity to find out if she went through that door.

  Annabelle forced the flashlight away from the door and turned around, finding herself staring at the medicine cabinet again. From this angle, she noticed it hung on the wall with a slight tilt. Gran’s directions popped into her head and she wanted to slap herself out of frustration. They said behind the mirror—Gran must have meant behind the medicine cabinet, not inside it.

  She propped the flashlight up with her backpack, shining light onto the cabinet. She grabbed the sides of the medicine cabinet and braced her muscles to pull with all her might. She yanked and the cabinet released into her hands, causing her to stumble back a step. The flashlight now illuminated a deep square hole in the wall.

  She set the cabinet down and hurried to the hole. Reaching inside her fingers grasped around a metal tin. “Gotcha,” she said and pulled it out.

  The lid wouldn’t budge when she pulled on it, so she started shimmying it back and forth until it popped off with a little cloud of red rust. Annabelle tossed the lid on the ground and peered inside the tin. She saw the outline of a key and turned the tin over to drop it into her hand. The shiny, silver key hit her skin like ice and felt heavy in her palm. It stretched across her palm and uneven teeth adorned the bottom. Someone had looped a long chain through the key’s clover shaped top.

  She felt unsteady while gazing at the key and slumped to the ground. She grasped the key tight in her fist and closed her eyes. “I did it Gran. You can rest in peace now.” Tears fell from her closed eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

  She
let the relief pulse through her for a few more moments before opening her eyes and gathering the flashlight and backpack. She took a deep breath and, with a satisfied smile, put the chain over her head and tucked the key under her shirt. The hardest part was behind her.

  She turned toward the opening to the tunnel but hesitated. She glanced back at the door and chewed on her lip. She could never risk coming to the bunker again but questions tugged at her body, urging her to go forward. She wanted to know what was behind that door. This was her only chance to see this part of Gran’s life.

  She returned to the door and grabbed the lever. With one pull, the door clicked open, falling ajar. She pulled it all the way open, shivers running through her body.

  She stepped over the threshold and into a cavernous hallway. White tile flooring covered the ground and identical metal doors lined the hall, all closed. She turned left and started down the hall, her footsteps echoing around her. She wanted to discover where they ate, see where they relaxed, find out how they grew food. She roamed through a piece of history, a place she had minimal information about and she wanted to fill in all the blanks. Her skin tingled while she tried opening the doors, anticipating the clues from the past that she might soon find.

  Annabelle passed ten locked doors and came to a T. She looked down each hallway and they both extended out of her view. She went left again, making a mental note so she’d remember her way back. Double doors with thick black hinges and engraved white numbers lined this hallway.

  She passed four more locked doors and came to one that had the word Library etched into it. She held her breath and approached the door. Please let it be unlocked. Libraries held high importance within the Colony—everyone wanted to make sure they rebuilt the world without repeating past mistakes. She’d love to get her hands on some new books.

  She grasped the lever and pulled up. It didn’t budge.

  She sighed and shone the flashlight further down the hall. She wanted to get in at least one room but wasn’t sure how much further she should go. She could easily get lost in here, but hadn’t discovered anything interesting yet. She tapped her leg while staring down the dark hallway, debating with herself.

  An echoing screech interrupted her thoughts. What was that? She widened her eyes and her heartbeat pounded in her ears. No crashing sound followed the screech, it must have come from something living rather than from the bunker caving in or settling. She shut off her flashlight. With all animals extinct, the only living thing down here would be another person or a horde of insects. She stood frozen in place, trying to calm her breathing.

  Laughter travelled down the hall and jolted her back into action. She rattled the library lever again. It still didn’t give. She slipped her shoes off, then running her hand along the wall crept to the next door. That lever wouldn’t budge either. She didn’t want to run down the dark hallway, but didn’t dare turn on her flashlight either. She should never have ventured in here. She’d be out of the bunker by now if she hadn’t gotten curious.

  “Clyde, stop it!” echoed down the hall.

  Annabelle yanked on the lever again. Come on, open!

  “Why? Are you scared of the dark?”

  The voices sounded familiar and Annabelle relaxed her grip on the handle. A teenage boy named Clyde lived two houses down from her. She cocked her head to listen.

  “Hurry up, will ya? Your mom could go faster than that.”

  She bit her lip. They were coming her way and blocked her exit. If they saw her and told the accountability council she could possibly lose her job, maybe get an act of defiance placed in her parenthood file. It could ruin her whole future. She slid to the next door—needing to find a place to hide.

  She pulled on the lever. Locked. She heard their laughter again and realized they’d be in big trouble if caught down here as well. A couple of teens certainly wouldn’t have permission to enter the bunkers. She slipped her shoes back on and started walking toward their voices.

  Just as she got to the fork in the hallway she heard them again.

  “What the hell? An open door!”

  That’s Gran’s door! She couldn’t let them discover Gran’s secret passage. “Stop!” she hollered and clicked on her flashlight.

  Both boys let out a scream and turned to run.

  “Clyde and Jackson, I already know it’s you, running will make it worse.” She walked toward them with shoulders back. They stopped and turned around. “What do you think you’re doing in here?” She pointed the light on their faces.

  “Nothing!” Clyde said.

  “You aren’t permitted down here,” Annabelle said, stopping in front of them.

  “What are you doing down here, Miss Annabelle?” Jackson asked.

  Annabelle was grateful they couldn’t hear the racing of her heart. “I’ve been sent down here to catch trespassers. Looks like I found some.”

  “It was all Jackson’s idea,” Clyde said.

  “Whatever! You dared me!”

  Annabelle thought for a moment. She needed them to keep quiet about seeing her down here. “Okay, listen. Since I know you, I’ll cut you a break. No one needs to know about this, but I can’t completely let you off the hook.”

  “Okay, thank you!” Clyde said.

  “I’ll have to make a report in your parenthood file, but I’ll say I overheard you talking about coming down here, not that I actually found you down here. Sound good?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Clyde said.

  “Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

  They turned and scurried down the hall and out of her view. She should’ve asked them how they got into the bunker. Is this a new thing teens are doing these days?

  Annabelle thought about the fake report she’d have to write and her heart felt heavy. A defiant act on file could significantly hurt their ability to obtain permission for parenthood in the future. If they couldn’t get parenthood, it almost guaranteed failure within the Colony. They would never be able to move up in status, never enjoy comforts allowed only to those who had children. It would bring shame on their family. They might never be free from this infraction. She didn’t want to face the same consequences if she got caught down here.

  Annabelle stepped back into Gran’s room and secured the door. She took two deep breaths to calm her heart rate, then headed out the opening and down the hall to the ladder. The light from above seemed much brighter now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She clicked her flashlight off and stashed it back in her pack. She grasped the first metal bar and ascended.

  At the top, she pulled the planks back over the opening then covered them with sand once again. She sat for a moment with her back against the hill. Her hand went to her chest where she felt Gran’s key under her shirt. Did she want to laugh or cry? What had she been thinking? This was the riskiest, yet most thrilling thing she’d ever done. She shook her head and pushed those dangerous thoughts out. She couldn’t do something like this again. She tapped Gran’s key, considering what she should do about it. It might take longer, but she’d have to take only safe opportunities to discover the key’s secret.

  ***

  Annabelle managed to make it back to her dad’s house undetected and forced herself into a relaxed posture while blocking the bunker excursion from her mind. Inside, she found her coworker and best friend, Margaret. Annabelle embraced her. Her face met black curls and she breathed in Margaret’s familiar scent of curry powder. She pulled back and glanced at her friend’s clear, hazel eyes. The neutral colors Margaret tended to wear always highlighted her eyes, as did the cream color dress she wore today. Margaret saved up her own fabric ration until she had enough of the same to make a single color garment. Trading with Margaret benefitted Annabelle because she preferred bright colors herself.

  “How are you holding up?” Margaret asked, studying Annabelle’s face.

  “I’m alright.” Annabelle forced her voice to remain steady. Margaret knew her better than anyone and might be able to de
tect her guilt. “It’s good to see you,” she added.

  “I wanted to check on you, and I brought you guys some lab steaks to grill up.” Margaret turned to the kitchen counter and slapped her hand on a cooler.

  “What? Seriously?” Annabelle opened the cooler and found it filled to the top. “This is more than a whole month’s ration! Margaret, this is too generous.”

  Margaret closed the cooler and waved a hand. “It’s nothing. Fredrick didn’t do so well trading this week.” Annabelle knew this was a lie. Margaret’s husband, Fredrick, worked in the meat lab and people waited for hours in the barter market to trade for the extra steaks he made.

  “If you really want to repay me, you can do a sketch of the kids for me,” Margaret said.

  “Of course.” Annabelle shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Images of the bunker swirled in her head. She squeezed her lips shut and forced a breath out of her nose, trying to focus on the conversation.

  “Annabelle, there you are.” Annabelle turned to find her father entering from the living room. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been waiting to give this to you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black bag. He handed it to Annabelle.

  Annabelle opened the bag and peered inside. “Gran’s wedding ring,” she said under her breath.

  “Aside from the fact that you’re the last to need a wedding ring, I know Gran would’ve wanted you to have it.” He patted Annabelle on the shoulder.

  Annabelle took the ring out and held it close to her face, studying it. The gold band had a single diamond the size and shape of a small apple seed. “It’s lovely,” she said, keeping her eyes on the ring so she didn’t have to see her dad’s face. He loomed over her, and she felt him staring at her. She knew he wanted to say something, wanted to fight.