The Way of the Cicadas

Chapter 2

Shrieks pierced the air. An orange light shone through the crowd surrounding the center of the cafeteria. On his tiptoes, Hayden could just make out the curling sides of the giant calendar that had run out of days, disintegrating into flame.

Fires were about the most f*******n thing in the colony. But Hayden had forgotten how beautiful they were. The light was so different from the steady, dull light of the LEDs they had lived in for the past decade: warmer, less steady, but with a rhythm. A heartbeat.

For a moment, Hayden remembered the fireplace at his grandmother’s house, and the smell of the sap from the real Christmas tree, and the stockings stuffed with chocolates and toys. He’d had a grandmother once, and aunts and cousins. And a father who used to play chess with him every night.

Before the calendar completely disintegrated, three men butted through the crowd, fire extinguishers in hand. After they pulled the pins and squeezed the triggers, the fire extinguishers sputtered, releasing white puffs that did nothing to calm the blaze.

“They’re expired! Like everything else in this godforsaken place!” someone yelled. Józef, the burly custodian, threw his heavy leather jacket to suffocate the fire, stamping out the rest.

This place was created to prepare for that sudden, violent flash. Its end was the opposite: a slow, inevitable dim.

The PAs buzzed on, blasting a message on repeat: “All-residents meeting in the cafeteria. Please convene in the cafeteria immediately.”

The crowd’s roars grew louder than the repeating message.

“BULLSHIT!”

“You’re taking an hour of our life away!”

“Tell us what’s going on!”

Felicity appeared from the hallway with a bullhorn, and the crowd cleared a path for her. She made her way to the table where the first protester stood. The protester scrambled down in surprise. Felicity spoke into a walkie-talkie, and the PAs grew silent, as did the crowd.

“Hello, citizens,” Felicity said. Some people said “hello” back in bored complacency, while others booed. “I apologize for the sudden disruption of light.” She scowled. “The lights were programmed incorrectly. The rationing was supposed to begin . . .”

Her voice faded into the jeers of the crowd.

Felicity tapped her bullhorn until the feedback made everyone cover their ears and shut up. “I understand why you’re upset,” she said. “This rationing will be hard, but there is little alternative. The radiation levels outside are too high for us to guarantee the safety of anyone who leaves. We believe it will be safer in five years, which is why the administration has decided to enforce a rationing plan. Please remember that violent protest will not be tolerated.”

And that was it. Felicity stepped off the table, and the crowd parted for her. The room was full of a strange silence, like everyone was waiting for permission to breathe again.

“Attention, all citizens! Emergency curfew is now in place. Please return to your rooms immediately.” The emergency broadcast played on repeat.

Hayden’s heart dropped. They’d set a curfew like this a few years ago, and nothing good had come out of it.

People grumbled on their way out. Artemis stuck close to Hayden, wrapping her fingers around Hayden’s good hand. Her touch was tender, but her voice was sharp. “Let’s go!”

Hayden didn’t know where they were going, but he complied as she walked ahead, not wanting to let his wrist slip out of her grasp. They walked through the hallway leading to the units. Suddenly, a supply closet jerked open, and Brita and Maisy popped out. In surprise, Artemis let go. But not quick enough to stop Brita’s eyes from flicking down to their parting hands.

“W-what were you two doing in there?” Hayden sputtered. His face warmed. Why were Brita and Maisy in a closet together?

Maisy narrowed her eyes. “The crowd was blaming Brita for the supply shortage. Didn’t you hear the shouts?”

Hayden’s heart sank. “I got distracted by the fire in the middle of the room. Did anything happen?”

“No,” Maisy said. “But if things keep going like this . . .”

For once, Brita said nothing—just looked blankly at Hayden’s good hand.

“Come with us,” Artemis told Brita and Maisy.

“Where?” Maisy asked.

“My room,” Artemis said. “I guarantee my dad slept through the emergency broadcast.”

She was right. As soon as she opened the door to her unit, Hayden heard the staccato snores.

Artemis flung open her bedroom door, and as soon as they’d made it in, she closed it again. There was barely room to stand. Bandages, food, medicine, washcloths, sunscreen, and backpacks were splayed across the floor.

“What is all this?” Maisy asked.

Artemis beamed. “There’s a supply closet that only Supply Ward has access to. It had these awesome packs. And extra menstrual cups!” In her arms, she fanned out an array of pink silicone.

“OH MY GOD,” Maisy said, kneeling onto the floor. “We’ve had these the whole time? I’ve been asking for a new menstrual cup forever.”

Hayden cleared his throat. “Uh, that’s great and all, but how did you get all this stuff? There’s no way Rod just let you take it.”

Artemis shrugged. “I made a copy of his key to the room and snuck everything out with a laundry cart.”

“So . . . you stole them. That doesn’t sound like you, Art.”

She looked down. “I don’t have a choice,” she said. “None of us do.”

“You haven’t thought this through,” Hayden said. “How are you even going to get out? The administrator’s entrance?”

“You have the pass codes to Observation, don’t you?”

Hayden’s throat clenched. Of course Artemis had already realized that. She’d always been so quiet and careful; she’d never rush into something like this without agonizing over it. Hayden wasn’t sure he could follow her. Could he really go out into the world that had killed Noah and his father? Would Artemis return like Noah had, raving and contaminating the whole bunker? Could he live with himself if he let her leave without him?

“There’s no way you’re going up there alone,” Hayden finally said.

Artemis’s eyes widened. She looked alarmed—like maybe she hadn’t actually wanted anyone to come with her. What the hell was she thinking? Did she want to die alone up there?

“I’ll be there too,” Maisy said.

“Yep,” said Brita. “Seems like everyone wants me out of here anyway.”

A knock at the front door interrupted their musings. Artemis stood, shaking. “I’ll answer it by myself,” she said. “In case they’re checking for curfew.”

A moment after she’d left the room, Artemis peaked her head back in. “Hayden, can you come out?” Artemis asked.

Then the door swung open, and his mother embraced him in front of everyone. Her face was red and tear-drenched. She gripped a flashlight in one hand and Hayden’s shirt in the other. She was the only person who willingly wore the scratchy wool pajamas the bunker had come equipped with, and she was in them now. Her shirt was misbuttoned.

Hayden attempted to smile while he loosened her grasp on him. “What are you doing out here, Mom?”

“You didn’t come home, even with the curfew. I was so worried.”

Now she decided to care?

Hayden looked back at Artemis and nodded. Don’t leave without me, his eyes said.

I won’t, her eyes said.

As they walked out into the hall, Hayden’s mother grabbed hold of his hand—his injured hand, like always. He’d always wondered if she did that because it was weaker. She practically dragged him down the hall to their unit. When they made it, instead of shuffling to her bed like usual, Hayden’s mom dried her tears, tied her hair back, and looked into his eyes. “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she said. “How is school going?”

Hayden turned away, swallowing a lump in his throat. She hadn’t asked him that in years. She was trying, which was more than she’d done in a long time. It made his heart hurt. For years he’d tried to gain her attention, make her angry, make her care. And just when he’d given up on her.

But it didn’t matter. He was leaving anyway.

In the first few months that Hayden worked with Millie, he’d often caught her fiddling with a rusty mint box in her drawer. It always made him wonder how that ancient box still contained mints—and how she didn’t have tetanus. But soon enough, he caught onto the metal glint of the key. The only locked thing in the room was a wooden cabinet at the back of Millie’s office.

He’d never tried to use it though. Now that he was about to try, he felt like he was breaking a solemn oath. After knocking on the doorframe to Millie’s office to ensure he was truly alone, Hayden stepped inside alone for the first time.

She was a messy person. On her desk, half buried in stacks of scrawled papers, was a framed photograph of Noah. He stood in uniform in front of an airplane. Sunlight caught his face, brightening his smile.

Hayden turned to the locked cabinet and tried the key. The fit was strange, but with enough jamming, he managed to turn it. He opened the stubborn hinges with a jerk, and piles of papers tumbled to the ground. On top was a printout of f*******: messages.

Hayden’s mom had done the same thing when his father warned her about the coming war. She printed out reams of her memories, pictures she’d taken on her phone that she didn’t want to forget. Every blurry photograph of her high school frenemy and every written exchange she’d ever had needed to be preserved. When their printer ran out of ink, she burst into tears. His mother had a little cabinet of her own like this in their unit, though her pile of nostalgia was more neatly organized. Looking back on it, Hayden figured it was a symptom of the digital world the transactions took place in.

Hayden barely remembered the computer that used to sit in his dad’s office. It glowed, and when it was dark, it seemed to suck his father into a different dimension. During the rare times he was home, he sat in his sprawling office with multiple screens, lights turned low, yelling into a cell phone.

Now, ten years after the EMP blasts, the adults couldn’t stop reminiscing about their computers and phones and “social media.” They said the word technology like it was a prayer.

But wasn’t technology the reason they were living in the ground?

Hayden picked up a sheet of the f*******: messages. With a jolt, he recognized Noah’s picture next to half of the text. He skimmed words like I love you and I don’t want to live without you and felt a wave of shame. He gathered the papers again and straightened them just enough to match the other disheveled papers.

At the bottom of the stack, a green corner poked out. It was one of the maps, and the others were next to it. He unfolded them all, pleased to see Noah’s small handwriting.

Before Noah left the second time, he’d written detailed notes on topographical maps of southwest Nevada. His path was marked with a dotted line. Like an ancient Here there be dragons map, he’d marked the places where he came across particularly formidable animals. It was all guesswork and memory, since he hadn’t taken the maps with him, but still. This was all the intel he had. With this, they should have no trouble finding Mercury.

A long bzzzt filled the room. Someone without the passcode wanted to enter Observation.

The excitement Hayden had felt at his success turned to fear. He jerked up, abandoned the maps, and rushed to the intercom in the main observation area. “Yes?” he asked. He managed to make his voice nonchalant, except for the slight c***k at the end.

“Oh, Hayden.” It was the voice of one of the youngest administrators, Brian. He was only nine years older than Hayden, and when he wasn’t pouring cups of yerba mate for his superiors, he was tasked with the least important assignments. “Can I come in, man?”

“Yeah. Give me a minute.”

Hayden ran back into Millie’s office, stuffing papers back in the cabinet and locking the doors. He folded the maps and threw them under Millie’s desk—and they didn’t look all that out of place.

Brian was happy to talk in the dimly lit hallway. After a minute of small talk, they were just sort of standing there in the dark.

“I’m technically supposed to talk with Millie,” Brian said, scratching the back of his neck with his knuckles.

“She’s technically supposed to be here,” Hayden said. “She usually takes off a little early.”

“Got it,” Brian said. “I guess I can tell you, then. We made, like, a task force that came up with ideas to conserve our light. The task force unanimously voted to cut light from this ward.”

Hayden spoke before he could think. “Are you kidding? We just rescued a person! And if we’re talking about supply runs, we need this ward to help prepare for that.”

“We’re not talking about supply runs,” Brian said flatly.

“We need time to synthesize our findings and provide recommendations.”

The science-y words seemed to ply Brian. He stopped, tilted his head, and considered for a minute.

“Ten years should be enough data, right? Look, I’ve been authorized to give you two days,” Brian said. “On Tuesday—or is it Wednesday? Who the hell remembers anymore?—we’ll need all this crap cleared out. We look forward to your research summary.” Brian smiled magnanimously, as if he’d done him a big favor. He turned toward the exit.

“Wait!” Hayden said.

Brian turned, hand around the doorknob, leaning into the door. “Yeah?”

“Will I be able to get in here at all?”

“Nah, they’re changing the passcode on Tuesday too. Felicity wants control over who gets in. And out.”

“I can’t believe this,” Hayden muttered.

Brian shrugged. “Time to look for a new job, bud.”

Then he left Hayden to shake in anger.

After his shift, Hayden walked to Artemis’s unit, Noah’s maps in his back pocket. He knocked softly on her bedroom door.

“Yes?” Artemis said, opening her door a c***k. She looked past him. “Is there anyone else with you?” she whispered.

“Just me.”

Artemis flung open the door, and as soon as he made it in, she closed it again.

Brita and Maisy sat cross-legged on the floor, helping Artemis organize the piles of supplies.

“I heard they’re shutting down Observation,” Artemis said as she sank back down to her stacks of supplies. “Sorry, Hayden.”

“They’re changing the passcodes too. In two days.”

“That’s—” Artemis breathed out, like all her pent-up anxious energy was released, and she was back to herself again.

By lights-out, they had five packs prepared and a plan to leave the next night.

As Hayden walked back home, he thought about how when the pro-emergence movement started, he’d been terrified for the protesters. Who in their right mind would want to go out there? The radiation numbers were still bad on paper, and there were always his vague fears about cannibals.

But then he thought about that brief moment outside, when he saved Brita. Even with the suit on, the outside had attacked him with its beauty. The sunlight was warm and welcoming, and it made him think of playing outside on bright summer days. The colors were so vivid that they stung his eyes. There was so much space and light. He felt like he could breathe again. His heart pounded, and it wasn’t because he was afraid.

No one knew about this except him, Millie, and this new magical person who had stayed alive.

For the longest time, Hayden had told himself he was in Observation to help people. It was an extension of medicine. He would begrudgingly leave safety only when he had to save someone. But really, he wanted to be as close to the outside as possible. Really, as soon as Artemis had mentioned leaving, his heart had leapt at the thought of going outside again.

Sometime after Hayden fell asleep, the main lights flickered on, and the PAs came to life. “Attention, all citizens. Airflow is being shut off in all nonessential areas. This is effective in Ward D: Reservoir, and Ward Y: Waste Disposal in ten minutes. Please evacuate these areas immediately.”

Then, as if it had only been a thunderclap, the lights and the PAs turned off.

Hayden sat up, heart racing. His eyes ached as they tried to adjust back to darkness. He hadn’t caught the announcement. Airflow was being cut off? Which wards had they said again?

He squinted at the glow-in-the-dark clock on his desk. It was eight—an hour after the new lights-out. He blinked and looked around the room, puzzled.

In a few minutes, Maisy rushed in, cheeks flushed, with Brita fast behind her. “Has Selah come by?”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Selah works past lights-out in the reservoir every day. She wasn’t in her room, and since she was trying to keep it a secret, I’m worried that no one thought to warn them. There’s no way they could hear that down there!”

Hayden stood and grabbed a flashlight. “Let’s find her.”