I watch over these people. They’ve put their safety,
their very futures, in my hands. It’s an awesome responsibility,
to be sure. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
—Pioneer
As soon as the sun starts filling up my room in the morning, I throw on some clothes and head for the stables. I want to forget about yesterday, to put a mile of prairie between me and any thoughts of self-defense. Of course, I’ll have to settle for riding Indy around the corral instead.
Riding always clears my head and calms me down. I’m sure that if I ride long enough now I’ll be able to get my head straight and dedicate myself to what I need to do. Plus, I love the smell of the barn. It’s a medley of sweet hay and warm saddle leather with a not-so-subtle undercurrent of manure, which sounds disgusting because of the poop but is actually really nice. I wish there was a way to convey this smell in my paintings. Somehow it’s as much of what makes this place beautiful as the scenery is.
Indy’s in the last stall on the right. He’s already snorting and kicking at his door. He knows I’m coming and that I always bring carrots.
“Hey, boy. Ready to ride?” I say. He nuzzles my fingers while I feed him.
We ride out into the center of the corral. It’s still pretty quiet, which makes me feel like I’m completely alone. Most of the rest of the Community is still getting ready for the day. There’s just Indy and about a dozen lazy flies to keep me company. I ride early on purpose. I love it when I have the place all to myself.
I nudge Indy in the flanks and he lunges forward. We go from a bouncy trot to a rocking canter, and I sit back into the saddle and let my mind go blank. The only way this morning could get better is if there was enough space for Indy to gallop, but the corral’s too small and we’re not allowed to ride out on the prairie alone. We have to go in a group, which for me defeats the purpose of riding, really. Still, I settle for the corral and pretend that it’s bigger than it is and not just a horse-sized hamster wheel. And I feel better, more relaxed, by the time some of the other Community members are beginning their morning chores. I can do what I’m supposed to. I will do what I’m supposed to. From now on I will stop resisting what Pioneer wants.
An hour later I’m on guard duty at the front gate with Brian. I’ve never understood why we have round-the-clock coverage here. It’s not like we ever get visitors, at least not with any regularity. Except this time there is a visitor. A car trailing a cloud of dust is heading down the dirt road that leads to the development.
Brian notices it first. I’m just about to lay down my winning hand in Uno when he leans forward in his chair and squints out the front window. He grabs the binoculars, then curses under his breath and gets the walkie-talkie from the built-in table beneath the window.
“Pioneer, we got a live one headed this way.” He lets go of the speaker button and the walkie-talkie crackles for a moment.
“One car?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m on my way.”
I grab the binoculars from the table where Brian left them and try to get a better view of the approaching car. It’s a police cruiser, maybe a few miles away at most. I can see it after I focus the binoculars a little more, but the bar of lights on top isn’t flashing. Still, it sends a chill up my spine and my stomach flutters.
“Brian, take another look.” I hand over the binoculars.
“Well, crap,” he mutters, and grabs for one of the guns hidden beneath the table and tucks it into his belt, pulling his shirt out and over it. He calls Pioneer again.
“Treat it as a welcome rubbernecker right now. No need to panic yet,” Pioneer says. Anybody who wanders into our development out of curiosity we call a rubbernecker. A welcome rubbernecker is someone we don’t turn away at the gate.
I jump as our development’s siren lets out three short bursts at half volume—just loud enough to hear within our walls—our code for unexpected company. Basically, it means be alert, but carry on as usual. A few people will need to head to the orchard and drive a truck across the path that leads to the Silo’s entry door, just to be safe, and our guns will have to be quickly tucked away. In other words, we have to take out the apocalyptic and leave in the suburban.
I straighten my shirt and shorts, then my hair. Not that any of these things gives away much more than my inability to look anything other than ordinary—which is a good thing right now, I guess.
“Be calm, Lyla,” Brian grumbles. “Quit fussing with your clothes.”
I paste a smile on my face and then realize it looks all wrong, so I bite my lip instead. Brian rolls his eyes and groans. “Oh, man, you suck at this. Just stand behind me, ’kay?”
A few short minutes later, the police car comes to a stop beside the guardhouse.
“Stay here,” Brian says as he opens the door.
There are three people in the car. I can see the two men in the front clearly, but the person in the back is hunched behind the passenger seat. All I can see is the top of his head. The driver’s-side window rolls down as Brian gets closer to it. I lean around the door to see and hear better. The man in the driver’s seat is about my dad’s age. His eyes stand out more than anything else. They seem to be on alert, watchful—sharp inside his softly rounded face.
“Hello there.” He smiles up at Brian even as he sizes him up. “I’m looking for a Mr. Gerald Brown. He lives here, correct?”
Brian puts a hand on the top of the car and leans down. “Yes, sir. May I ask what you need him for?”
“His sister’s looking for him. Family business.” The man looks Brian up and down, takes in his broad chest and untucked shirt. “Nothing to be concerned about. I’m assuming we’re welcome?” There’s a challenge in his voice even though he’s smiling brightly, and Brian recoils a little. I retreat back into the guard booth and put my hand on the gun hidden underneath the table. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I need it, but it’s what Pioneer’s taught us to do.
“You are absolutely welcome, sir.” Brian sounds convincingly casual, and I allow myself to relax a little, but still I keep my fingers on the gun. “We just like to keep a record of our visitors.”
The man nods and settles back against the seat, content for now. Brian turns to me and points at the gate. I take my hand off the gun and press the button that opens it. The car slowly begins to roll forward, and the driver waves to me as they pass. The person in the back has moved to sit behind the driver and now he’s looking out the window at me. He’s about my age.
I stare in at him. He’s handsome—it’s not something I know because I’ve cataloged his physical features already. In fact, I can’t say what his eyes look like or what color his hair is. It’s more of an immediate knowing in my gut—breath-stealing and unsettling. And I can’t look away. He smiles at me and I stumble backward a little.
Brian gives me a look. “Cut out the nervous nonsense and get over here. You’re being really weird.”
I make myself follow him. We trail behind the car as it moves toward the gate, now halfway open. Beyond it is Pioneer. He’s got his biggest, warmest smile on and is motioning the car forward, pointing to where they should park. I try to ignore the boy in the backseat. I don’t want to look at him, but I can tell he’s looking out the back window at Brian and me. I focus on Pioneer instead and let Brian walk slightly ahead of me, effectively hiding me from the boy.
The two men in the front seat get out quickly. They look a lot alike in their uniforms, but you can tell that the driver’s in charge by the way the other man stands slightly behind him. They take turns shaking Pioneer’s hand and exchanging pleasantries. Brian and I are lingering just outside of the gate, still unsure whether we are supposed to come in or remain on duty.
The boy in the backseat of the car gets out slowly. He’s not in a uniform like the other two. His hair is even more unruly than I originally thought now that I have a clear view of it. It’s about a dozen shades of brown, lightest along the top where the sun hits it. He moves a piece of it out of his eyes and nods at us before he goes to join the others.
“What do you think this is about?” I whisper to Brian.
He shrugs. “Can’t imagine it’s anything good.”
“What could they want with Mr. Brown?” I wonder.
“Got me. Maybe he did something he shouldn’t last time he went for the supplies.”
“He hasn’t been in town for a long time, though,” I say.
Pioneer looks over at us like he’s deciding something before he calls to me. “Lyla, could you come here, please?”
I nod and walk over to Pioneer, careful to keep my pace steady, relaxed, and confident. After yesterday I want to prove to him that I can do whatever’s necessary without hesitation. He pulls me off to one side.
“Mr. Brown’s relatives sent these men to check up on him. His brother passed on recently and they wanted to let him know.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say to no one in particular. I guess I should say this to Mr. Brown, but since he’s not right in front of me, I feel the need to say it to Pioneer. He nods and continues. “I will be taking them to see Mr. Brown and his family now. It may take a while.”
Our guests are staring at me. I squirm a little, I can’t help it. Pioneer’s eyes harden slightly—his subtle warning to quit acting strange. I swallow and smile. “What can I do to help?”
The man who was driving the car steps forward and offers me his hand to shake. “Lyla, is it? Nice to meet you. I’m Sheriff Crowley. I asked your … Pioneer if you’d do us a favor and take my son, Cody, on a tour of your development here. He’s helping out at the station right now and is on a ride-along with us today, but he’s liable to be bored by this bit of business. Would you mind showing him around and letting him ask you some questions about Mandrodage Meadows?” He says our development’s name carefully and smiles at me. I can feel everyone watching me. I have to fight the twitching in my lips. “A tour might prove to be a good deal more interesting for him,” the sheriff says like he’s not sure that I’m on board with playing tour guide to his son.
Cody’s staring at me, his face tilted like he’s curious about my reaction. My face turns red and I glance at Pioneer. He nods his consent, but he doesn’t look entirely comfortable with the idea. “Sure, I guess,” I say.
“Brian, please return to the gatehouse. Lyla will rejoin you when she’s through here,” Pioneer says. Brian looks disappointed, but he heads back to his post anyway.
Pioneer gives me a look that’s heavy with meaning. “Make sure he gets a thorough tour.”
I can tell by the way that he emphasizes “thorough” that he means the opposite. I turn back to Cody. Pioneer is already ushering the older men toward Mr. Brown’s house. Cody’s standing beside me with his hands in the pockets of his low-slung jeans. I let my eyes linger on his chest just long enough to see that it’s muscular. He’s smiling widely now, obviously aware that I’m studying his chest, so I focus on the faded words spread out across his T-shirt.
“ ‘Save Ferris’?” I ask.
He looks down. “Yeah. It’s from this old eighties movie. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”
When I don’t respond, he looks a little embarrassed. “It’s kind of a joke. My mom used to play it whenever I was sick. My sister and I’ve always sort of liked that movie. She bought me the shirt.”
“I don’t get it, what’s the joke?”
“My sister calls me Ferris sometimes. And since I want out of Culver Creek as soon as possible … she just thought it was funny, like I need saving from our town.”
“Oh,” I say, but then I still don’t totally understand. “Why do you need saving from Culver Creek?”
I think about the neatly painted shops downtown with their hanging baskets filled with flowers and the old homes lining the main road, all elaborate Victorians complete with gingerbread trim. It’s beautiful there. I’ve always thought it was bizarre that inherently evil people would want to live in such pretty places.
Cody seems to consider my question as he looks up and down our street. It’s oddly empty for this time of day, but I can feel a dozen or more pairs of eyes peeking at us from inside the houses. Are my parents watching, or even worse, Will? The thought makes me nervous and strangely guilty, like talking to Cody is somehow wrong, even though Pioneer told me to.
“I want to work in movies and they don’t exactly make them in places like Culver Creek,” he says. “At least not so far.”
“As an actor?” I guess. That’s what Marie’s brother wanted to do when he left us. It makes sense. Like Drew, Cody’s every bit as cute as any of the actors I’ve ever seen on movie night.
He looks at me strangely. “No. I want to work in visual effects.”
“Huh?”
“Think The Wolfman or Lord of the Rings—the makeup and creation of characters—monsters and stuff.”
“Those are movies … right?”
“Um, yeah. You haven’t seen them, huh?”
“We see movies,” I say quickly. “But not lots.”
“What’s the last movie you watched?”
“The Day After Tomorrow and The Terminator. Last weekend. Double feature. You know—‘Are you Sarah Connor?’ ” I try to say the last part with the proper accent, but it comes out sounding utterly corny. Cody laughs, though, and once my initial embarrassment wears off, I join him.
“Wow, okay, those are good examples, albeit old, of movies with visual effects. Day After Tomorrow’s a little more current, though. I’m hoping to be one of the guys who makes characters like the Terminator look realistic. So, you don’t go to the movies while they’re in the theater?”
“We don’t leave Mandrodage Meadows very often,” I say, and hope he’ll let it go at that.
“I kind of knew that,” he says quietly. “You like to keep to yourselves out here, don’t you?”
“Something like that.” I look away. “Ready for your tour? I’m afraid it won’t be overly interesting.” I’m anxious to get started and focus on a less dangerous topic.
“Really? ’Cause I’m convinced that it’ll be very interesting,” Cody says, and winks at me. “You guys are kind of a hot topic in town. It’ll be nice to finally see for myself where you’re hiding the dead bodies and child brides.”
“Excuse me?” I stop walking and stare at him.
His grin widens. “You have to know that people think you’re some kind of crazy cult out here. It’s a small town. You’ve been coming into town and leaving again like ghosts on and off for years. We’re the closest town to you and none of us even know exactly how many of you there are out here. It’s only natural that folks’ll start thinking you’re up to no good.”
I don’t know what to say. I walk ahead a little and wrap my arms around myself. “It’s not like that. We like to live simply, that’s all. There’s nothing interesting here unless you count farm animals and gardens as gossip-worthy. And for the record, no one who lives here is under fifteen and the only married people are way past their teens—trust me, there aren’t any child brides.”
Cody’s smile fades. “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you mad, really. I was trying to be funny.”
“Well, you weren’t,” I grumble.
He looks so disappointed that I immediately soften. “Forget about it. It’s fine. Let’s just get started.”
I take Cody to the clubhouse first and show him the pool, our lessons room, and the room where we eat most of our meals together. Then we head over to the corrals. Only the animals are there, watching us with mildly curious faces as they munch on their feed. I wonder if Cody notices that there aren’t any other people around.
“Sheep, pigs, and goats, fascinating,” Cody says dryly. He turns and looks in the opposite direction, his eyes resting on the dirt road that leads to the apple orchards. “So, what’s down there?” He starts moving toward it.
He can’t go down there. Even with the truck blocking the road further in, if he gets too close he might see the Silo’s entrance. Before he gets far, out of desperation I grab his arm and loop my own through the crook of his elbow. It feels really, really bizarre to be this close to him, an Outsider. I can feel the curve of his forearm under my fingers—a bit smaller and leaner than Will’s. My stomach flutters and my face gets hot. He looks down at my arm and then at me. He raises one eyebrow at me. Marie is better at this type of thing than I am. I have no idea how to flirt effectively. I paste on what I hope is a friendly (but not too friendly) smile. “There’s just a bunch of apple trees and old farm equipment back there. Come inside the stable. Please, I want to introduce you to someone.”
Cody looks at the orchard one last time, but allows me to lead him past the corrals and into the stable. One by one, the horses look up as we pass. Their ears flick back and forth. One or two poke their noses out into the walkway between the stalls. Cody leans in closer to me each time, and our shoulders keep touching as we walk. Every time it happens I get the same thrill inside my chest. This boy is making me nervous, and I don’t think it’s because he might see something on our tour that he shouldn’t.
I look up at him, trying to see if it’s happening to him too, but his face is pinched and uncertain.
“What?” I ask. I’m surprised at how disappointed I am that he doesn’t seem to notice the strange tension between us.
He won’t look at me now. His eyes are glued to the stalls on his side of the stable and the horses inside them. “Um, I’m not exactly a big fan of these guys,” he says, and his face goes pink.
“Really? Why?” I stop just before Indy’s stall and drop Cody’s arm. Cody stays in the middle of the walkway. He still won’t turn fully to face me.
It hits me then. “You’re afraid of them,” I say slowly. I have to work at keeping my face straight because I have a feeling I’ll really embarrass him if I start smiling—or worse—laughing.
“Not afraid exactly … just not a fan,” he says. He is scared of them. I shake my head and try to process this. This boy is quite possibly stranger than I thought he’d be. But his fear makes me feel better, less nervous.
I turn toward Indy’s stall and grin. Wait till I tell Marie about this. Indy’s already by the door, his neck straining out into the walkway toward me.
“Hey, big guy, how’s your morning going?” I coo at him, and he puts his head into my shoulder and leaves it there—the closest thing to a hug hello that he can manage.
I can feel Cody watching me, watching us. My fingers start to tremble in Indy’s mane. Cody’s eyes on me have every part of my body on high alert, but I’m not scared. In fact, I think I like it. I look back at him and try to be calm. “They’re really gentle, you know. And smart. So, so smart.” I run my hand across the top of Indy’s head, let my fingers toy gently with one ear. He moves his head up and down against my shoulder.
“This is Indy. He’s mine. We kind of grew up together. He’s about the gentlest horse there is. If you come say hello to him, I promise he’ll behave. It’s impossible to be scared by this guy.” I hug his head.
Cody’s still in the same spot, but his face isn’t as tense. The corners of his mouth are turned up into the beginnings of a smile. “He really loves you, doesn’t he?” he says.
“Not nearly as much as I love him.” I plant a kiss on the blaze running down the center of Indy’s face. “He’s a better listener than anyone else I know. And he’s easy to please. Give him a carrot and take him for a ride and he’s ecstatic.” I can’t help thinking about target practice yesterday. “He never expects anything more than that.” I realize that I’m not smiling anymore and that Cody’s looking at me strangely all of a sudden. I chew on my lip and try to quickly pull myself together.
“Come here.” I motion for him to get closer to Indy and me.
“He’ll be sweet, I promise.”
Cody still looks skeptical, but he inches toward me anyway. I’m not sure if it’s because I was that convincing or if it’s just that he doesn’t want to seem like a giant wimp. Either way, he ends up next to me. I take his hand and put it to Indy’s nose. I can sense more than see him smiling at me.
“Feel that. Isn’t it the softest thing ever?”
Indy doesn’t hesitate. He buries his nose in Cody’s hand, happy to have so much attention. Cody stiffens and I let out a little laugh as Indy moves a little closer to Cody and nuzzles his Ferris shirt, leaving a wide smudge of slobber and dirt across his chest. Cody makes a face and we both burst out laughing at the same time.
By the time we say goodbye to Indy and leave the stable, I’m feeling less wary. Indy doesn’t warm up to just anybody. He never nuzzles Will. I try not to read anything into that. All I know for sure is that Cody’s funny and nice and I’m having more fun than I’ve had in a while.
We walk in silence at first, but Cody doesn’t let it last long. He launches into a story about his first time around horses, when his mom put him on the back of one to take a picture and it took off running. He was stuck holding on for dear life until it ran itself out. It was probably terrifying for him, but he makes it sound hilarious instead. I watch him talk, the way his hands move as he does. There’s something almost painful about being around him. He makes me so nervous that I can barely stand still. I’m pretty sure that I’m smiling way too much and laughing way too loud. Still, I can’t stop myself, and even stranger, I don’t want to. I look for the evil that has to be lurking just underneath the surface, but all I see is a boy … and an extremely cute boy at that.
“How long have you lived here?” he asks.
“Ten years.”
“And you’ve been to Culver Creek before? Because I’m sure I’ve never seen you there.”
“Yes. We all take turns getting some of the supplies we need, like clothes and batteries and stuff,” I say. “But since there’s so many of us and not enough trucks for us to take to town all at once, we only go twice a month. My family’s only been to town about once or twice a year since we moved here.” What am I doing? SHUT UP, blabbermouth!
“And I thought I had it bad. How do you cope with being stuck here all the time? I think I’d go out of my mind.”
“I don’t really think about it.” I don’t add that Mandrodage Meadows has always felt the opposite of confining when compared with our future living quarters in the Silo … or that Culver Creek always feels too large and dangerous. So many Outsiders and there’s no way of knowing which ones pose the biggest threat, which ones might do one of us harm, like the person who took Karen.
He’s walking close enough to me that we keep touching shoulders again. I can smell his cologne or shampoo—it’s citrusy and spicy at the same time. I like it. I wonder what he thinks of me. I’m liable to smell like hay and horse manure after this morning’s ride—not nearly as pleasant a combination as his is. I put a little space between us.
I show him everything but the orchards. He doesn’t seem to care when we pass the road that leads into them without stopping. We finish up by the pond and settle into the grass to wait for his father. I’m surprised we’ve been left alone this long. A few other members of the Community are out in the garden, and there were a few others by the stables, but mostly the entire place feels quiet, almost deserted. I wonder if he’s noticed and thinks it’s strange. I’d half expected Marie to ambush us somewhere along the way. It’s not like her to stay away—not that I’m complaining. She would’ve taken over the tour and I’d have been left to tag along behind her. It’s been nice not to be part of her background for a change.
“So, unless you’re on a supply run, you never leave …” His voice trails off.
“Right,” I say, and chuck a rock into the water. It was really stupid of me to tell him all of that. We both watch the rock skip across the surface three times before it sinks.
“Nice.” He grins. “But I can beat that.”
I watch as he gathers up a handful of rocks and then chooses one to throw. It skips twice and disappears. I smile.
“Okay, best out of three,” he says, and then, after his second throw is equally unsuccessful, “I guess you can’t get some kind of special permission to leave any other time?”
“Special permission for what?” I ask, and he looks shy for the first time since he’s gotten here.
“I don’t know, maybe to hang out … with me?” He smiles and my mouth drops open. I’ve messed up. I’ve been too nice and gotten myself into trouble once again.
“I can’t,” I say quickly, and take a step away from him.
“I sort of figured, but it didn’t hurt to ask.” His lips curl slightly into a half smile. He chucks the last rock. This one doesn’t even skip once. It just sinks.
He doesn’t look at me right away and I feel awkward and squirmy. For some reason I feel the need to explain myself. It bothers me that he looks a little hurt by my answer, but there’s no way to do this without giving away too much or completely insulting him in the process. Gee, I think you’re really, really cute and all, but I can’t go because you’re an Outsider and probably have the potential for serious evil and I’m chosen and pure and about to enter a shelter that’ll keep me safe while the world implodes and you die. No hard feelings?
“Kind of seems like you’re trapped here, Lyla. Are you?” Cody tilts his head and studies me.
“No, I like it here,” I say automatically.
I’m not supposed to feel trapped here, but now, in this moment—and if I’m honest, more and more all the time—I do, I can’t help myself. I am trapped. For good reason, sure, but trapped all the same. But it isn’t like any of us can really change our minds and move away from here. We have no money of our own, nowhere to go. And it doesn’t make much sense to even consider it, since the world is about to end. Still, I can’t help wishing that I could go out with Cody and maybe see what a kiss feels like when Will’s not on the other end of it … but this kind of wishing is foolish and I can’t indulge it.
“Lyla.” Pioneer’s standing by the picnic tables with the sheriff and the other man. He looks irritated and ready to be rid of our guests. Cody’s father hands a piece of paper to Pioneer, and Pioneer nods and puts it in his front shirt pocket. I stand up and brush the grass from my shorts. Cody gets up more slowly and stretches.
“It was nice to meet you,” I say loudly in a more formal tone than I used when we were alone. And then I surprise myself, lean closer to him and whisper something I know I shouldn’t.
“You know, my family’s assigned to the next supply run into town this Saturday.” I can’t quite look at him afterward. What am I doing?
He shoots me a sidelong glance and a slow smile spreads across his face, lighting up his gray-green eyes. “Maybe we’ll run into each other. Could happen … especially if I have a general idea of where you’re going to be.”
My breath quickens. I can feel his smile becoming contagious and I return it with one of my own. “We’ll probably be at Walmart for most of the morning.”
“I happen to love that store. Where else can you get a haircut, goldfish, and camping gear all at the same time?”
He winks at me and I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep from laughing. I’ve never felt so reckless. It’s terrifying, but exhilarating too. I look over to where the adults are standing. Pioneer is watching us now, so I force myself to sober up.
“I hope you enjoyed your tour.”
Cody catches on quickly and shakes my hand stiffly. Still, his thumb strokes the top of my hand for half a second and my stomach takes a free fall to my shoes. “I did, thank you very much.”
I turn toward Pioneer and together we walk Cody and the other two men the rest of the way to their car. We wave. The car turns toward the gate and then rolls slowly through it. I know that as soon as the gate is completely closed, Pioneer will want a detailed accounting of my time with Cody. I should tell him everything, right down to the “chance encounter” Cody and I might have on Saturday. I can redeem myself, and shake off this awful temptation before it takes root. I promised myself after target practice that I would follow the rules from now on, that I wouldn’t knowingly put the Community in danger. So why am I already preparing to lie?