Chapter 27
Cracked shale and crumbling sandstone—the hidden doorway was seamless. Without a guide, it was impossible to locate. Allie’s charm loosened the patrol leader’s lips, allowing us to glean a certain amount of information before entering.
The Albany fortress was exactly what we hoped for: large, stocked, and full of escape routes. With 37 exit tunnels, two shipping gates, and nearly 4,500 people, they established an underground society. A society with 500 soldiers who had no desire to search for survivors. The patrol group’s leader, Jon, guided us to the security checkpoint.
“Wow. You really built this in two years?” Allie clung tight to Jon, influencing him not only with her ability, but with her naturally flirty personality.
“Well… it was closer to three, and I had a little help.” Jon’s face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. A bashful reaction from a man who threatened us with a gun less than an hour earlier. Allie played along.
He pointed to the ceiling, explaining the steel framing and spray on concrete securing the tunnel. The LED strips bounced off Allie's eyes like the lost stars, driving him to go into details only an engineer would care about. I knew nothing about construction, but Dan shook his head at nearly every boast.
The sealed floor had a slip-proof coating, easing my mind and allowing me to focus. The three patrol members holding our guns followed closely, pushing us to keep pace like criminals. After their cursory search for weapons, I placed my helmet on and prepared for any attacks from behind. Thankfully, Allie convinced them to leave me with my mace. With steady feet, I'd reach them before they had a chance to shoot.
“Do a lot of survivors make it here?” Allie pulled Jon’s sleeve and shot a downcast glance to the concrete floor.
“About 300 since the fifth breach, but none as beautiful as you.”
Neither Chris nor Dan enjoyed watching the battle of charm, with the oddly protective Dan grinding his teeth. None of us considered the effectiveness of her ability; it was our first time witnessing her using it to its full potential. My stomach dropped when I thought of the issues separation might cause.
If the spell wore off, it was possible things wouldn’t end well.
Unmarked tunnels intersected ours, and we had to keep count for safety—three to my right before we walked down the first on our left. The trip turned into a maze, and it was hard to remember everything. Dan told us to build a mental map wherever we went, but mine was like a child’s scribbles. Hopefully, he was more successful.
Our path ended, and we reached the first control point—a sealed door like a bank vault and two cameras.
“Don’t worry; it would take a nuke to get through this door,” Jon reassured Allie of our safety and made a call on a wired phone.
Not having to worry about beasts breaking in was a blessing. Not having a way to break out was terrifying.
A moment later, the door swung open, and we stepped into a tunnel that narrowed to a gate. Armed soldiers wearing vests and helmets similar to mine stood by. Although we expected some security, none of it put us at ease.
“Hey Jim, listen to this. These three came from Syracuse, and this one from Potsdam.” Jon greeted a middle-aged man dressed in gray with a thick mustache that hid his upper lip. “There’s a family on Gardner. We’re thinking about looking for them.”
“Hi, I’m Allie, and this my friend Amy, and those are Chris and Dan.” Allie once again introduced us and offered her hand. Jim softened the moment they shook.
“Oh, um, yes, I’m Jim. Security point supervisor.” The man stumbled over his words and turned his attention to me. “First member of The Order to come through here. What’s your rank?”
Before I responded, Allie explained my situation quicker than I could. We had to remove all of our belongings, including my helmet and vest. For the first time in three months, I had no weapons or protection outside of my clothing and the essence in my body.
We assumed they’d disarm us, but it didn’t make me feel any less vulnerable. Jim smiled and waved us into the walkthrough scanner with our arms up, searching for transmission devices. His face flushed as Allie and I walked through the instrument, an effect of her ability.
“One chipped, three not,” Jim said.
The scans showed nothing unexpected. Dan said his wouldn’t show up on standard detectors. The biological chip grown from his DNA was nearly impossible to distinguish. A lump of flesh is all they’d see.
“We’ll hold on to these for safety concerns.” A guard grabbed my vest, helmet, and mace. Allie interjected.
“Just a meat hammer and some cooking knives. And you wouldn’t attack anyone with these, right Amy?”
After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded, and Jim returned my belongings with Allie's touch, advising me to clip my helmet while inside. Our guns and bags remained with them, though. A necessary precaution, as he said. They’d return them once they took everything of value. Chris’s heartbreak affected us all.
Jim escorted us to the next station, leaving behind the disheartened patrol group leader who promised to check up on us after his shift. A booth full of computers had a person napping inside as if he didn’t expect anyone to come through. A bang to the door and a lecture later, the young man stepped out with a scanner and heavily protected tablet.
Allie started sweating. The Fairy Godmother’s spell had a limit, and it looked like it came with a time or number. We’d need to find out before we planned any further use. She smiled, and the young technician tripped.
“I’ll just. I’m just checking for any chips logged in the database.” Under Jim’s stern gaze, the technician stammered and pressed the reader against Allie’s neck.
There was no reason to check Allie, and Dan’s lips disappeared into his beard. “Why are you scanning her? You know she’s unchipped.”
“Just a precaution.” The tech removed the scanner, a red LED flashed, and he read the tablet’s screen. “Another way to search for chips.”
Full body and targeted scans. Dan didn’t appear to be worried, but he didn’t seem happy either.
Allie, Chris, and Dan. Unchipped and unregistered, there was little to record. They lied and claimed to be a part of the 20% who had no ability or had no idea how to use theirs. The young man noted them in his system, creating a profile and registry number, then scanned me.
“Amy Sullivan, weaver, last—” He tapped the scanner and tried again. “That’s odd.”
Jim grabbed his pistol, and I prepared for a fight. “What’s odd?”
“No, no. It’s just her tracking signal.” The tech swiped on the tablet until he found what he wanted. “Everythings good, but her last logged location is Lake Placid.”
Jim stepped behind me and searched my skin. “No scars. What can cause that?”
The tech shrugged his shoulders. “Strong magnetic field or corruption, probably. Same reason chips don’t work in scabs.”
“Is she a scab?” Jim backed away and eased his gun from the holster.
“Hey, hey, calm down.” The tech waved his arms and leaned back. “It’s just a malfunction, man.”
His scanner didn’t read the multiple souls, and my chip stopped recording my location. Jim was jumpy, but my biggest worry was gone.
“It’s probably the corrupted priest. It stung when I took his gear.” I flicked my hand like I was shooing a mosquito.
We discussed it beforehand. There was no reason to lie about finding the priest. I had to explain the equipment somehow, and it was best to lie by omission using Allie’s advice: “Sound confident by acting annoyed, I’ll smooth out any problems.”
“That could do it.” The tech sat in his chair and read through the database. “What’s weaving? It just says you were a medic.”
“Forced healing through someone’s soul.” Emergency healing when there's nobody else. “Emergencies only.”
The young tech added me into his system and smiled. “I think the readjustment agents will assign you to the hospital, but I don’t deal with that. I just entered you in for approval. Won’t take long.”
“Assigned?” Dan stepped in front of me and stood next to the booth. The bushy beard made him look more intimidating than he was. And a simple question looked like a threat. Allie told him his beard would get him killed someday.
“Everyone’s giving work based on skill assessments.” Jim stopped Dan from approaching any closer, and the tech relaxed. “They do them after orientation.”
Five minutes of silence passed before the tech gave a thumbs up. Someone approved us for entry.
“I’ll call for male and female sector escorts. They’ll set you up with everything.” The tech grabbed an old corded phone, and I finally noticed the wires running through painted pipes.
No towers meant no signals, and thick stone walls probably required wired connections. Jon told us the entire place was hydro-powered and geothermal heated. A diverted river and drilled vents. We’d learn more in time.
“What’s the male and female sectors?” Allie turned towards Jim, frowning and waving her hand next to her face to cool down.
“We separate male and female arrivals unless they have children over a year.” Jim rubbed his shoulder and looked away. “We had some assaults from new arrivals. And, we had to break apart a few forced relationships.”
Any place looking to rebuild would need laws that protected its citizens. The military base paid pleasure girls with benefits to stop the assaults once the cities fell. If the fortress was trying to avoid those issues, they were serious about creating a real society. We’d find out, eventually.
After a brief explanation of the restrictions and an overview of the bar-coded bracelet we’d use for I.D., male and female representatives arrived. Chris and Dan agreed hesitantly after the male guides explained the nighttime curfew was the only time of separation.
“Hi, I’m Rosa, and that’s Jane.” In their early thirties, two women dressed in gray button-up tops, black ankle pants, and flats waved to us. Uniforms and a smile that once calmed angry customers, the type of smiles the world no longer needed. “You probably have questioned, but let’s get you cleaned and settled first.”
Allie’s face lit up, and after telling Chris and Dan we’d meet them in the orientation, we followed the two women through another long corridor.
“When you say clean, does that mean...” Allie grabbed my arm. Her face was serious, but her body shook like it was about to explode.
“Yes, we have hot-water showers here. Limited to five minutes, of course.” The one named Rosa slowed and stood next to us, whispering, “We also have soap and new clothes.”
Allie yanked my arm and squealed, nearly pulling me to the ground as if she didn't already have a bag of soaps. “Finally, finally, I can take a proper shower and wear clean clothes afterwards. Five minutes, five minutes. Can we shower every day?”
“Every two, unless you work in maintenance or agriculture.” Jane waved for us to speed up.
A hot shower every other day was more than what we had before, but Allie’s eyes dimmed a little. Perhaps she thought she was going to a hotel. Chris heated water, so washing didn’t require jumping into a freezing brook, but that was merely a bucket and a rag.
Allie asked questions while I counted doors and looked overhead for markings. I was scared and tired. Dan gave up on teaching Allie and Chris awareness techniques, accepting his role and the responsibility that came with it. But I hadn’t told them my plans for the spring. Eventually, I’d be alone again, and there’d be nobody keeping track of the details.
“And welcome to the new arrival sector.” Rosa opened her arms once we exited the suffocating concrete corridor. “Though, it’s everyone who’s arrived in the last six months.”
The light at the end of the tunnel. It was strange to think about things that way, but that's what we found. A small paradise tucked inside of a cliff.
“How... big is this place.” I looked in both directions, but didn’t see an end.
“A hair over a mile and a half long and a mile wide.” Jane once again urged us to follow her. “But half of that is industrial and agricultural.”
Engineers built houses within the cavern walls themselves—three-story homes with doors, windows, patios, and stairwells. In an attempt to mimic apartment buildings or townhouses, they coated the rock face a different color after every four windows: blues, yellow’s, purples, reds, and whites.
On the ceiling, long LED light strips hung from steel rafters, and below, cobbled walkways lined with shrubs, flowers, and benches saw foot traffic beside the painted buildings. We watched as cyclists raced down bike lanes wearing backpacks, or pulling carts.
A small, underground group of people building a utopia for themselves. Nostalgia, anger, defeat. I wasn’t sure what I felt or how to take it in. They were rebuilding happily in a controlled environment while the rest of us died to beasts and weather. The residents had wide smiles and full nights of sleep without fear.
But they weren’t at fault. The fortress survivors didn’t create the world outside; they made the one within. It was what we hoped for, more than what we thought, but when I saw it, I balled my fists. I balled my fists, and Allie put her hand on my shoulder.
Rebuilding wasn’t wrong. Wanting a chance at normal wasn’t wrong. Trying for something better wasn’t wrong. But something definitely felt wrong. In eighteen days, the breach would expose any cracks, which gave us seventeen days to find them. If they became too large, we’d need a way to crawl through.
