The Dark Water (4 page)

“Brayden!” Jimmy screams, his voice a roar, something unfamiliar and animal, his aged vocal cords tearing up his throat. On the screen, the two figures freeze, then look around. Sutton picks up his gun and aims it at the elevator.

“Brayden, you fucking traitor. I'm going to rip your face off. Do you hear me? Do you
hear me
?” He's screaming so hard he's spitting. Veronica slams down the switch and pushes Jimmy back against the wall. For an instant, she's about to get punched. But then Odessa's there, calming him down, taking his arm. He breathes, big gulps of air, so angry he's blind. So angry he hurts.

“You idiot!” Veronica says. No need to explain why. On the screen, Brayden disappears into the water. And Sutton's men return. He points at the camera, right at them, and then his men rush offscreen.

“I'm going to kill him,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah,” Veronica replies. “We heard.”

“Hey, it's not his fault,” Odessa chimes in. She looks at Jimmy, her forehead wrinkled in concern. “That guy was our friend.”

“No one's your friend,” Veronica says. She takes a deep breath. “Okay, the front is guarded by a tank, but the back looks clear for now. You need to get out of here. Get to safety.”

Jimmy shakes his head. “I'm not leaving them.”

Veronica points at the screen. “Do you see that guy? He created a
virus.
You think he'd suffer any compunction about shooting you in the head?”

“Jimmy,” Odessa says quietly, “maybe she's right. If we can get out of here, we can help people. We can save our families. My little sister. She doesn't know anything about anything. We can't let her die.”

Jimmy thinks about it. “But if we don't stop Sutton from taking over this place, then we're no good to anyone. Not our family, not our friends.” He turns to Veronica. “You don't have any guns, do you?”

She shakes her head. “Just lots of syringes.”

“Do you have anything? Anything that can stop them?”

“You really should go. With these cameras, I can guide you safely out of here. Listen to Odessa.”

Jimmy's face is set in stone. “I did. I'm sorry, Dess, but this comes first. We need the water to help people, which means we need to stop Sutton.” He turns back to Veronica. “Now, again,
think,
what can we use? What do you have?”

Veronica takes a deep breath and seems to steel herself. Suddenly she looks more like the woman they saw yesterday, the one who could handle herself. Handle anything.

She takes a walkie-talkie off a wall charger and hands it to Jimmy. “Okay, you two—go. Sutton knows this place, he heard you, so he'll come here first. That should take another two or three minutes. Enough time to get moving.”

“But where are we going? What's the plan?” Odessa says.

“You asked what we have if not guns,” Veronica says, opening the door for them and motioning them out. Odessa moves reluctantly, not sure she's ready to leave the relative safety of the room. “You asked me to think?”

“Yeah . . .” Jimmy replies, wary.

“I'll tell you what we have. We have monkeys.”

THE GATES ARE SO LARGE THAT IT TAKES A GOOD TEN
minutes of walking to get past their wide arms. The trees behind us have faded away into a soft glow, but there's another light coming up ahead, down a slope. The moss has given way to a road, paved in flat smooth stones, black and white at regular intervals, like a flowing chessboard.

Below us, spread out in stunning beauty, a city opens like a sunrise. Tall buildings, towers and spheres and geometrically pleasing triangles jut high into view, filling the air with spires. I can make out balconies, large windows, rooftop terraces with gardens and trees. Big and small birds fly across the streets, their wings shimmering softly. It seems as if every inch of space has been accounted for, jammed together. The city's bursting at the seams. It's unlike anything I've ever seen.

“This is incredible,” I say, unable to help myself.

“This is Capian, my home. Your cities are like this, yes?” Straoc asks.

“New York, maybe,” Rob says. “But not really. Nothing like this.”

“Not many of us venture to the gates, as they are usually closed,” Straoc says, taking it all in. “Not many of us ever see how beautiful it is from this same perspective, how perfect.” He pauses, takes a breath. “But soon that will change.”

I think of the lake behind us, the portal back to the Cave. It sounds to me like Straoc's planning on bringing up some friends soon. Not sure that's a good thing.

“How many people live here?” Jo asks, rubbing at her wrists. The rope's burning my skin too.

“Several tens of thousands,” Straoc replies, pride in his voice.

“What's that?” Rob says, pointing with his bound hands beyond the city. Capian sits in more of a bowl than a valley, a crater almost, with the massive wall snug against the surrounding hill, like a crown. It's divided in half by a wide boulevard, the only open space in the entire city. At the far end of the boulevard, above the city, is a mountain, lit brightly by the shine of the buildings below. It shoots straight up, as steep as one of the towers, but is jagged and glistening, shimmering in the light.

Straoc grunts. “That is the source, young Rob. You will not be going there. Only the Three can enter.” He tugs the rope, and we start to descend toward the city, down stairs built into the rock. I'm buzzing off of what he just said, about a source. There
is
somewhere special here, somewhere the water originates. Dad will have figured that out before he came. I'm sure that's why he's here. He wants whatever the source is.

I'm so distracted I almost trip, taking the others with me. We move slowly, and far below us I can make out the shapes of the Keepers who captured us, just arriving into the city streets.

“But who are the Three and why do they get to go?” Rob presses.

“The Three are the oldest of us, our forefathers. Who were granted the source and who guide us. They are the true Keepers.”

Suddenly this place makes more sense to me. These people are guardians of the water. Maybe that's why we're tied up; we were breaking and entering. Considering that Dad is probably here to steal some of whatever the source is, they're not exactly out of order.

“So where did they take Mr. Kish?” Rob asks.

“Mr. Kish?”

“My dad,” I clarify.

“Your father, he was taken to the Lock. We do not have many problems here, nor many places to put those problems. The Lock is where they go.”

“Why aren't we going with him?” I say, helplessness beginning to overwhelm me. “Why can't I see my dad?”

“You will, I am sure,” Straoc assures us. “But Keeper Randt asks to see you first. He asked to see your father first too, but I did not get to him in time. Keeper Arcos and Keeper Randt have been at odds for some time now; it is deliberate that they rushed to find him. You will see him later.”

“Wait, how did you know we were here?” Jo asks.

“Keeper Randt could see you, the water showed him.” Straoc replies, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What do you mean?” I say. Suddenly I'm hyperaware of my wet hair. How can the water spy on us? What's going on?

“You are not of the Three, so you cannot fully understand. But those granted the source can see through the water. They can do many things.” Straoc makes an impatient noise. “It matters none for now. Randt will explain and we must hurry to him.”

“So we're following you while Dad's stuck in a holding cell?” I ask. The stairs are starting to tire me out. They're steep enough to give me vertigo if I look straight down, so I stare at the city. It's distracting enough, anyway. Like walking into a dream. Or falling down the rabbit hole.

“Why should we follow you? Why should we do anything?” Jo asks, pausing on the stairs, looking defiant. Her mouth is set in a thin line and my heart leaps in pride just seeing that. Ever since her dad died of rapid aging caused by the virus, I've felt like Jo's needed me to prop her up. She's shown flashes, but rarely her real self, and it's almost like this place is dragging her back, forcing her to deal with reality. To be the alpha chick I've always looked up to. “You stared down those other guys. Why not just let us go, then? If you want to help us so much, take us back home.”

In front of us, Straoc slows, his body lumbering a step or two more before it can be fully controlled. He tilts his head and I see the pupils in his huge eyes opening and closing, as if he were zooming in and out. There's a dismissive curl to his lip. A tightening of the jaw. “You do not understand yourself, or the world you have stepped into, young Jo.” He speaks with a heavy weight, a threat rumbling in his throat. Straoc suddenly embodies the full seven-foot frame he possesses, his pale skin and eyes and voice so starkly unfamiliar and daunting that I try to take a step backward, only I can't move because he's gripping the rope too tight. “We are not sitting idly waiting for your arrival. We are our own people, and one of our leaders, one of the Three, has been killed just this past night. The minds of the Keepers tremble in anger and
you
walk in. Never has a life been taken so, her heart cut out from her chest, and at the exact same moment as the gates open and the water flows and you arrive. Do you not see? My sisters and brothers believe you are connected to the death of a Keeper!”

Jo shakes her head. “But that means that you holding us here is putting us in danger. You can still let us go!”

Straoc tsks. “Maybe if I had gotten to you first, I could have let you go. I want to know the Topside. Maybe this cycle I will get to see your sun. Yes, I am a friend. The source only told Arcos and Randt that Topsiders had come, not how many, and now that you have been seen by my brethren, all has changed. If I do not present you to Keeper Randt, as I promised, I will myself be taken. They believe you were connected with the assassination of our sister. They will believe I helped you escape.”

“But we
didn't
kill anyone,” Rob complains. “We didn't cut out some Keeper's heart. We just got here.”

“No,” Straoc agrees, the corners of his lips twitching upward into a smile. “No, you did not kill one of the Three. This I know. I know for many reasons. How could you? But the others will ask how it is that one of our most cherished leaders was assassinated on the very day Topsiders appear for the first time ever. Dead by no weapon a Keeper would use. The others will believe you know.”

My mind's running through the facts. We're in this crazy secret underground world, with a clearly intelligent society, standing beyond a lake filled with magic healing water and looking out over the most beautiful city I have ever seen and instead of being able to marvel, we're being set up like scapegoats for the offing of some Keeper woman we know nothing about. Rob's dazed, but Jo looks like she's about to make a run for it, rope be damned. I wonder if we could make it if Rob weren't here. Jo and I are fit; swimming and diving might be different sports, but we both have trained nonstop. An image flashes through my mind of Rob tripping immediately, sending us bounding down the steps, one over the other and back to Straoc's feet. We don't seem to have many options.

Straoc gives a gentle tug on the rope, pulling my arms forward. “Come now, do not be afraid. You may be safe yet. Let us see what Keeper Randt says. He is also of the Three, a very powerful Keeper. The source will show him the truth in your mind.”

Jo's tensing, but I can't help thinking of Dad, of how he's down there and alone. I don't know the politics of this place, but what Straoc claims about protecting us seems to ring true enough. He
did
save us from those guards, who already know about my dad and had him imprisoned. I don't get how he knew we had arrived, but it's good he did. If this Randt guy is one of the two most important Keepers in Capian, then maybe he's our only hope of getting out of here with Dad. Maybe it's my only chance. I begin to walk, the rope tightening around my wrists, tightening around Jo's too, forcing both my friends to follow, and we trudge reluctantly into the outskirts of the city.

• • •

Quickly, something becomes apparent: no one's around. The stairs exit right into the same wide boulevard we saw above that cuts Capian in two, a street lined with high buildings running straight through the city to the mountain on the far side. A mini-aqueduct stands about chest-high in the center, made of stone and filled with running water that sounds like a forest stream. Straoc moves us fast—but there's so much to see, so much to wonder about, that it's hard not to want to yank on the rope and ask for a moment. There are lilies and tall mossy trees that hang over the boulevard. I swear I see a white cat sitting in an alley, but it doesn't move and soon we're past it. Glowflowers are everywhere, placed on the walls to provide a hazy light, but spaced evenly along the boulevard are also these enormous torches flickering on tall iron rods.

“How do they keep those going?” Jo asks about the rods, despite herself.

“Gas,” Rob responds quickly, and looks to Straoc for support, who nods, apparently impressed. Rob sniffs the air. I do too, but don't smell anything. “See how the flame burns clean? How it doesn't end in black puffs of smoke? That probably means natural gas, and refined too.”

“What do you mean, ‘refined'?” I say. “We harvest the water from them, they sneak up and steal natural gas from us?”

“We do not steal anything from you. Not at all. We have all the resources we need. The water and the earth provide. Do you not have these?” Straoc says, pointing at the lamps.

“We do,” Rob replies, “but not much anymore. We have electricity now.”

“Ah, yes,” Straoc says, spreading his arms wide. “The Three have long decreed a ban. The water is connected, and we are to the water. Electricity is dangerous.” His voice turns defensive, prideful. “Still, Keeper Randt tells us that we have many other things that you find Topside, like gastrains and gardens and medicine and stores to cut hair.” He wipes his hand on his bald head proudly. I look around; there's no sign of any of this stuff.

“Why don't you come up top?” I imagine this uneasily—thousands of Straoc-like men and women streaming through Fenton, buying Slurpees at 7-Eleven, skiing on the weekend.

“It is forbidden,” Straoc says, his voice soft. “And we are here, behind these walls,
keeping
ourselves forever. But as I said, that might change soon.” We stay quiet, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn't, and keeps us moving at a steady pace through the city. He turns, from time to time, down other roads; Straoc always unerring, the roads always empty.

“This place feels fake,” Rob says. “Where's the wind? Why isn't anyone in the streets?”

“Maybe they're Morlocks,” Jo suggests.

“That's a me joke,” Rob says.

As we keep walking, a few other details become clear. The gas lamps are everywhere, and on most buildings we can see glowflowers set into the walls like shining tattoos layered into the skin of the stone. Balconies and windows are extremely high up, and with none of the usual signs of life you might see, like curtains or chairs or laundry. Only buildings with two stories or fewer have noticeable entrances. The big ones, the towers, have no doors or windows or any other means of access below thirty or forty feet.

There are side streets, and along each street is what might be a drainage ditch, maybe three feet wide, filled with flowing water.

“Straoc,” I call out, but he doesn't stop. “Is this the same water that's in the lake?”

He looks over his shoulder. “What other type of water is there?”

“What about the source?” I ask, unable to help myself. If Dad's here for it, he'd want to know.

“I have not seen the source. Only Randt and Arcos, now, have drunk of it.” He pauses, hesitant, as if he's about to speak blasphemy. “I do not know what the difference is.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, wondering again what Dad thinks he's getting into here. What does he know that he hasn't told us already?

“Keeper Randt, Keeper Arcos, they can do things we cannot.” He's reverent now, speaking of his leader.

I try to go through a list of what I already know: it helps you see things, maybe the future, it helps with languages. What else?

“Check this out,” Jo says, pointing up ahead. We're reaching an intersection that reminds me of a roundabout, except that in the center of the circle there's a stairway down. A fountain is positioned over the stairwell, a single round structure that rises about fifteen feet in the air, and the water drips over its edge into three pools that fill the roundabout.

“That is where we are going,” Straoc says, moving ahead.

“There's an underground to the underground?” Rob asks.

“I do not understand why there is a difference,” Straoc says, pointing down the dark entranceway and past the cool air that's siphoning up off the stairs. “We are underground both ways.”