Dust

It was Rickson who got her moving again, even though he wasn’t there. Elise could hear his loud voice booming through the Wilds telling her there was nothing to be afraid of. He and the twins used to send her on errands through the pitch black when she was just old enough to walk. They would send her for blackberries and plums and delicacies near the stairs when there were people still around to fear. “The littlest ones are the safest,” Rickson used to tell her. That was years ago. She wasn’t so little anymore.

 

She put her book away and decided that the dark Wilds with their leafy fingers brushing her neck and the clicking of pumps and chattering teeth were worse than painted people leaking smoke from their noses. With her face chapped from crying, she crawled out from beneath the counter and jostled among the knees. Always turning right – which was the trick to getting through the Wilds in the dark – she found herself in a smoky hallway with loud hisses and a smell in the air like boiling rat.

 

“Hey, kid, you lost?”

 

A boy with short-cropped hair and bright green eyes studied her from the edge of a booth. He was older than her, but not by much. As big as the twins. Elise shook her head. She reconsidered and nodded.

 

The boy laughed. “What’s your name?”

 

“Elise,” she said.

 

“That’s a different name.”

 

She shrugged, not sure what to say. The boy caught her eyeing a man beyond him as he lifted strips of sizzling meat with a large fork.

 

“You hungry?” the boy asked.

 

Elise nodded. She was always hungry. Especially when she was scared. But maybe that was because she got scared when she went out looking for food, and she went out looking for food when she was hungry. Hard to remember which came first. The boy disappeared behind the counter. He came back with a thick piece of meat.

 

“Is it rat?” Elise asked.

 

The boy laughed. “It’s pig.”

 

Elise scrunched up her face, remembering the animal that grunted at her earlier. “Does it taste like rat?” she asked, full of hope.

 

“You say that louder and my dad’ll have your hide. You want some or not?” He handed the strip of meat over. “I’m guessing you don’t have two chits on you.”

 

Elise accepted the meat and didn’t say. She took a small bite, and little bursts of happiness exploded in her mouth. It was better than rat. The boy studied her.

 

“You’re from the Mids, aren’t you?”

 

Elise shook her head and took another bite. “I’m from Silo 17,” she said, chewing. Her mouth was full of saliva. She eyed the man cooking the strips of meat. Marcus and Miles should be there to try some.

 

“You mean level seventeen?” The boy frowned. “You don’t look like a topper. No, too dirty to be a topper.”

 

“I’m from the other silo,” Elise said. “West of here.”

 

“What’s a westophere?” the boy asked.

 

“West. Where the sun sets.”

 

The boy looked at her funny.

 

“The sun. It comes up in the east and sets in the west. That’s why maps point up. They point up at north.” She thought about pulling her book out and showing him the maps of the world, explaining how the sun went around and around, but her hands were covered in grease, and anyway the boy didn’t seem interested. “They dug over and rescued us,” she explained.

 

At this, the boy’s eyes went wide. “The dig. You’re from the other silo. It’s real?”

 

Elise finished the strip of pig and licked her fingers. She nodded.

 

The boy shoved a hand at her. Elise wiped her palm on her hip and grabbed it with her own.

 

“My name’s Shaw,” he said. “You want another piece of pig? Come under the counter. I’ll introduce you to my father. Hey, Pa, I want you to meet someone.”

 

“I can’t. I’m looking for Puppy.”

 

Shaw scrunched up his face. “Puppy? You’d want the next hall over.” He nodded the direction. “But c’mon, pig is much better. Dog is chewy like rat, and puppy is just more expensive than dog but tastes the same.”

 

Elise froze. The pig that went by earlier with a rope around its neck, maybe that one was a pet. Maybe they ate pets, just like Marcus and Miles always wanted to keep a rat for fun, even when everyone else was hungry. “They eat puppy?” she asked this boy.

 

“If you’ve got the chits, sure.” Shaw grabbed her hand. “Come back to the grill with me. I want you to meet my dad. He says you all aren’t real.”

 

Elise pulled away. “I’ve got to find my puppy.” She turned and scurried through the crowd in the direction the boy had nodded.

 

“Whaddya mean, your puppy—?” he yelled after her.