I woke the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed.
Elias certainly looked well-rested. He was still shirtless, sitting up in bed beside me, reading. He was even more attractive in the morning light than he’d been by torchlight.
His skin was smooth and tan, his inky dark hair brushing his shoulders and shining in the rays of light that leaked in through the tent’s flap door.
His eyes, which I’d perceived as chocolate brown in the dark room last night, were more of a chestnut brown in the daylight and contained flecks of gold near the pupils.
When he glanced over and caught me staring at him, he smiled.
“Good morning, Sunshine. How’d you sleep?”
“Um… fine I guess.” Self-conscious, I scrubbed one hand through my messy bedhead.
Attempting to divert his attention from my appearance, I said something stupidly obvious.
“You have paper books.”
Elias grinned and lifted the one he was reading from his lap. The title on the spine read Robinson Crusoe.
“Yep. Whole lot of them. This one’s been particularly useful.”
He nodded toward the small table beside the bed where my open book rested spine-up.
“And I see you helped yourself to one yesterday. That’s an excellent choice.”
“It’s amazing,” I agreed. “I’d never heard of the author, Stephen King—they didn’t teach his works in our school, but I think they should have. He’s a great writer.”
Elias seemed pleased. “One of my all-time favorites. You’re welcome to read them all while you’re here… if you stay that long.”
“They’re so old. Where did you get them?”
“On our way here we stopped and checked out a bunch of different abandoned houses for food and supplies. We didn’t steal from anyone,” he clarified. “We just went into places that were owned by old people who… didn’t make it.”
I nodded. It made sense. There had to have been plenty of elderly couples who lived alone before the Calamity, and the country was filled with abandoned homes.
“Some houses were pretty cleaned out of food already—maybe by family members or scavengers like us. But we found lots of books. I couldn’t carry all the ones I wanted. Some we left behind—which killed me—but the other kids agreed to take some in their packs, too. That’s how I ended up with my treasure haul here. I’m like Smaug with all his gold, only I hoard books.”
I had to laugh at the analogy. I was also delighted to learn he’d read the Tolkien novels. “So you’re a book dragon. It really is a treasure trove.”
“Book dragon—funny. I guess you like books, too, huh?” he asked.
“I do. Always have. But I’ve never read a paper one.”
“It’s kind of a different experience, isn’t it? More… tactile.”
He fanned his book’s pages. They made the most pleasant light, fluttery sound.
“Yes. Absolutely.” I sat up. “What is that smell?”
“The old-book smell, you mean? It actually has a name—bibliosmia. It’s caused by the chemical breakdown of compounds within the paper.”
“I love it,” I said. “It’s kind of smoky… earthy and sweet like vanilla.”
Elias nodded eagerly. “Isn’t it great? They made these out of trees, you know? So they’re always decomposing. That sweet smell is from lignin, which is closely related to vanillin. As it breaks down, the lignin gives old books that faint vanilla scent.”
His face colored, and he gave an embarrassed sounding laugh. “That’s probably a little more information than you were looking for, huh? Sometimes I get a kick out of the fact that I’m living in a tree while reading trees.”
He slid from the bed. “You hungry?”
“Starved. You have food in here? I didn’t see any yesterday other than the meals that were pushed through the door.”
“Sorry about the solitary confinement,” he said. “That’ll change today. The weather’s better.”
“Was that the real reason you kept me here—under guard?”
“It was one of the reasons. Anyway, as to your question, no I don’t cook, and no, we don’t have refrigerators,” he said. “But we do have a meal tent, and we all take turns on hunting, gathering, and grub duty. You like eggs?”
“Yes.” My stomach growled loudly, as if to demonstrate the point. “You raise chickens?”
He laughed.
“No, but one thing we have plenty of around here is birds—of all kinds. We eat a lot of eggs but we leave a lot too and let them hatch. Renewable resource,” he explained.
“We also eat fish from the river nearby, squirrel and rabbit, plus nuts and seeds. There are a few apple trees that produce in the fall, and we store those up. Anything we can’t hunt or gather that we really need someone goes into a nearby city and buys. Some of us escaped with money, and we pooled it. We don’t need it often.”
“Nuts and seeds I’ve tasted. And fish. I’ve never had wild game.”
“You did yesterday,” he informed me. “The special of the day was wild turkey roll-up. Today it’s frog legs.”
To my surprise, I wasn’t grossed out. In fact, my stomach growled.
I must really be hungry.
Glancing toward the tent’s door, I asked, “Is it breakfast time now or is it too early?”
“It’s definitely not too early,” Elias said. “It might even be too late. I’ve been awake for a while now, but I didn’t want to disturb you. I got in late last night, and I was worried I woke you.”
“No,” I lied.
“You didn’t seem to have any nightmares last night like you did the night before,” he observed. “You have them often?”
I looked away. “Sometimes.”
For some reason the subject embarrassed me. Maybe because, not wanting to give them yet another excuse to take me to Dr. Rex, I’d always hidden the fact I had nightmares from my parents.
It was probably safe to tell Elias the truth, but old habits died hard.
“Bad memories?” he asked in a sympathetic sounding tone.
My mind flashed back to the terrifying images of Gideon’s Retrievers—and to how Elias had soothed me back to sleep the first night I slept here. I shook my head, uncomfortable that he’d seen me in such a vulnerable state.
“It’s nothing. You know how dreams can be.”
He nodded gravely. “Yeah. I know.”
Once again I wondered about Elias’ past, about the background of all the other kids who’d made their way to the Haven. Had the Retrievers hunted them as well?
How had they managed to escape from their own bases? I supposed the answers would come in time—that was if Elias ever decided to trust me.
He pulled on a shirt and put his shoes on. Before ducking out the tent door, he said, “Get dressed. I’ll give you a minute alone.”
Going to my backpack, I found some fresh clothes and changed as quickly as possible, turning my back toward the doorway in case he decided to peek back in and check on me.
Then I sanitized my teeth before stepping outside and going to the bathroom tent.
“Wow,” I said, taking in the sight of the Haven in the clear light of day without driving rain obscuring the structures.
The complex of tents and platforms was impressive. It really was an above-ground village.
Elias glanced down at me. The look of pride on his face was unmistakable.
“Not bad, huh?”
“How did you build all this?”
“A little at a time. A lot of work and cooperation,” he answered. “Plus a bit of stolen equipment from the base. We were lucky some of the guys had been part of the infrastructure corps there, training with carpenters and the like.”
“They used wood? I would have thought all the materials at your base would be 3D printed like ours.”
“Some of it was,” he agreed. “But not everything. And they still learned the principles of putting it all together. They taught the rest of us what they knew. Robinson Crusoe filled in the blanks. And voila.”
He spread his arms wide like a king presenting his kingdom.
“And the hydrosilk tents and stealth material draped over the top and wrapped underneath the platforms?”
Elias gave me a sheepish look.
“That would be the stolen part. They had us in a camping recreation program, so we knew where to find the tents. No doubt they’ve discontinued that elective now.”
He laughed at a private memory. “The Ghost Guard—that’s the stealth shield material—was something my so-called dad was working with. He helped check it for flaws and secure it around the tanks and jets before missions.”
With a shrug, he added, “I figured they knew where to get more so they wouldn’t miss it too much. It hides infrared, ultraviolet, and thermal signals, even blocks sound. It was a massive help as we traveled here and had to bivouac along the way.”
“Bivoo-what?”
“Bivouac. It means camp out in the open, under the stars, you know? We traveled on foot, and it took a while to find a spot to settle.”
My own two trips to this place had been relatively easy—one by train and shuttle and the other by delivery truck. I had felt so brave making the journey, but Elias’ escape made mine pale in comparison.
“That must have been scary—even with a metamaterial stealth shield.”
“It was. But my dad had a saying—‘just do it scared.’ If we’d let fear stop us, neither of us would be standing here, would we? Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”
He pulled some cord from his pocket, clearly intending to bind my hands again.
“Do you really have to do that?” I asked. “It messes up my balance when I can’t use my arms. It’s hard to do the ladders that way. I’m afraid I’ll fall.”
Elias appeared to think for a moment. Apparently he decided to ignore my plea because he picked up my left wrist and wrapped the hyperweave cord around it.
Instead of binding it to my other hand though, he wrapped the other end around his own wrist and knotted it securely.
“There. Now you won’t fall.”
“Or try to run away, right?” I rolled my eyes, but I was too hungry to argue. “Fine. Lead the way.”
More slowly than we’d come up, we made our way down the various ladders and platforms back to the hub area where we’d seen the redhaired guy last night.
The flaps of the largest tent were open, and guys were coming in and out. Elias and I walked into the food tent together, enduring the scrutiny of everyone inside.
It was filled with people—many more than I’d expected. At the far end of the tent was a long table where a line of guys took turns filling their wooden breakfast plates.
As we moved toward it, I noticed something.
Everyone in the line, every pair of curious eyes studying me, had something in common.
They were all male.
