“New York City was first,” Katura says, and everyone at the bonfire goes quiet.
Some of them are curious about us. Others are suspicious. But many of them came over now and then during the day and asked random questions about the mainland. They are hungry for information. Nostalgic, perhaps. They all lost something or someone.
“The impact wasn’t that devastating in terms of damage,” Katura carries on like an expert, “but the electrical grid and the bridges were destroyed. Imagine seventeen million people trapped in several square miles, with no sanitation or running water. Within a week, the city turned into a cesspool. It was a sanitary catastrophe. No access to medication. Looting started. Riots. Murders. All the good stuff. New York was the first one. And then the Citadel, Chicago, Atlanta, then the counties in Nevada and Virginia—the largest data centers.”
“What does that mean?” Maddy asks.
“The towers—radio, cell, satellite—are only functional when the cables that connect them are not damaged. And that came next. But the real power—internet and stuff—are in data centers.”
“Oh…”
“And then came the biggest infrastructures for collateral damage, ports, military. You get the picture.”
What they don’t imagine is not even the fallout that came next, but what lawlessness and abundance of weapons turn some people into. The scum of the earth can hide away their entire lives waiting for this moment and then crawl out. The demented minds go wild with violence. It’s hard to imagine that good neighbors you’ve known all your life can turn into monsters who do unspeakable things to others. Humanity has many faces. The ugliest and darkest ones might never see the light of day. But when they do…
I close my eyes, remembering the screams of women when our neighborhood got raided by thugs with guns once.
“Australia is the new power now,” Katura concludes. “But it’s off-limits to pretty much the entire world.”
Heads nod.
“What’s with the Westside war?” Katura asks, suddenly changing the topic. She is always prying.
“We had a falling out,” Ty explains.
Bo sits with a cup in his hand, quietly staring into the bonfire.
Kai is next to him but a little back, in the shadow, turned sideways to the fire as if it pains him to face it. He smokes a cigarette, holding it between his ring and middle finger. I can see his thumb tapping the end of it again and again. Is he nervous? I wonder why he came here at all. If he hates it so much.
“How bad is the falling out if you had to move all the way here?” Katura insists.
Everyone goes quiet.
Maddy clears her throat. “Let’s just say, Archer held all the cards. He wasn’t nice about it. A fight broke out. The Savages from the town attacked. Several people died. And the rules Archer announced afterward weren’t to everyone’s liking. Besides, he controlled the boats and didn’t let some of us leave. So, yeah…”
I can tell by Katura’s face she is not nearly satisfied with the story. It would be better to ask Maddy. In private. It’s the first day, and I feel that not everything on this island is as pretty and hippy-happy as it seems.
You can tell by the occasional empty stares.
By the silence that falls awkwardly at random times and random words.
By the night watch—and not to watch out for Archer’s crew but someone else.
By the winces at the mention of the town.
There are dark stories here. Deaths.
No place is paradise when people die at the hands of their own.
12
CALLIE
Everyone cheers upwhen Ty brings a speaker and turns on the music. Or it might be the local beer, sourish and bitter. It does the job.
I don’t remember the last time I drank. I haven’t drunk much since the Block Party. When one of the important moments of your life is a blank, you are aware of keeping things present. When that blank holds a dark secret, even more so.
But I drink anyway. It helps me relax. Slowly, it stops my body from being as tense as an iron rod in the presence of Kai Droga. He is like a mythical creature—the power that emanates from him makes me too self-aware.