The Way of the Cicadas

Chapter 3

The reservoir didn’t come with its own lights, so that morning, Pat and Selah had set up battery-powered standing studio lights to help them see as they worked. They spent most of the day unloading the pump parts. Pat explained to Selah how the pump worked. The steps seemed vaguely familiar from when she’d watched Pat and her father put together the first one, back before the bunker was finished. It was a lot of pushing impellers and their corresponding bowls onto a steel shaft. It wasn’t complicated, but with only two people to work on it, it’d be a lot of heavy lifting. They would use the same block-and-tackle pulley system they’d used to bring the parts down to hold up the shaft as they lined up the parts.

Pat set down his tool bag and pulled out a book of laminated cards with instructions on how to calibrate the current pump. He had Selah scoop up water samples from the reservoir to test for contaminants in the current pump. When they were done, Pat took a half hour to write out his immediate findings. “Not good,” he said. “Not good.” The current pump was sucking up dirt and sand along with water, damaging the impellers and leaving a thick layer of sludge at the bottom of the reservoir.

A muffled PA announcement echoed through the reservoir. Pat and Selah froze, straining their ears to make out the message.

When it was over, Pat said, “Probably more protests.”

“Yeah.” Selah turned back to the work at hand.

They had assembled and calibrated the pump. There was already an auger-drilled hole deep in the bedrock from Before. Now it was time to oh-so-gently place the pump using their pulley. If all went well, they could turn on the pump and the missing water should flow back into the reservoir. No more toiling day in and day out!

Pat tightened the last bolt, then said, “Time to put ’er in.”

The worn rope was frayed and hard to grip, even with gloves on. The air felt stuffy, and Selah was already wiping sweat from her forehead.

“We’re going to be heroes, and no one will know it,” Selah huffed.

“I’ll weld a medal for you.”

“Ha ha.”

They kept pulling. Selah’s arms tingled. Her head grew muddy. There were specks in her vision. “Pat—”

He didn’t answer. After a moment, Selah heard him land on the ground with a thud. The pump was so heavy, it nearly lifted Selah off the ground. Finally, she let go, landing so hard that her lungs ached for air. The pump dropped with an obnoxious clang. Everything was falling.

What the hell?

She was going to die down here. In the dirt. Next to Pat. Contaminating the drinking water.

Millennia later, her eyes opened, and she gasped in stale air. The vents whirred. An administrator wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up out of the reservoir on a string, like a spider’s prey.

At the end of the tunnel was light—Maisy’s joyful face, her soft hands pulling her back into the world of the living.

Brita shone a flashlight into the opening, and Hayden stood at the edge of the hallway.

“Selah! Selah! I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m so—I’m so—” Maisy couldn’t continue. Her face contracted in tears.

Selah fought against the threatening curl of her lips. She had almost died, so now was definitely not the time to smile.

But Maisy was ugly crying. For her.

“I’m okay,” Selah said finally. “Where’s Pat?”

“He’s already headed to medical,” Brita said.

Selah nodded. Maisy and the administrator laid her on a stretcher. She didn’t feel strong enough to complain.

In medical, they propped Selah up with pillows and gave her a cup of crushed strawberries for energy. She usually took air for granted, but now she consciously took slow, deep gulps of it. She kept this up until Felicity walked into the room, and she again felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“This is a fine mess we’re in,” Felicity said. “Pat is still recovering, so I’m going to have to interview you.”

“All right,” Selah said. It wasn’t like she had a choice.

“What were you doing down there?”

“We were installing a more effective water pump because water levels are low.”

“You should have consulted the board.”

Selah held up her hands. “Listen, I don’t have anything to do with administrative stuff. I was just following my boss’s instructions. As far as I know, he and the operations director decided that keeping the project confidential would prevent a panic.”

“It sounds like you were doing unauthorized repairs.”

“It SOUNDS LIKE you all completely ignored the PM and chose to ration OXYGEN without consulting the people!” Selah’s fingertips still tingled, but the breath it took to yell felt worth it.

Felicity pressed her lips together. “Did you successfully finish the installation?”

“No, because we were rudely interrupted by the LACK OF OXYGEN.”

Felicity pounded her hands on the table. “You have no idea how much thought went into that decision—the pressure. We did what we had to do for the good of the bunker.”

“You sat in a room talking. I’ve been doing manual labor in the dark.”

“You keep this attitude up, I’ll send you to Detention Ward.”

Selah rolled her eyes. She’d been threatened this way before, and unless they set something on fire, no one really ended up in Detention.

“Look,” Selah said. “I know there’s another group out there threatening us. I know that you’re helping hide it from the public. You don’t want to threaten me.”

Felicity’s eyes narrowed. For once, she didn’t have a quick comeback, and instead of a straight line, her lips formed a strained, lopsided grimace. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

This is what winning looked like.

Felicity turned and walked away. Even the sway of her ponytail seemed angry.

Selah snarfed the rest of her strawberries, wishing they’d given her some baked yam or tofu. Oh well.

“I feel better,” Selah said to a nurse. “Is it all right if I head home?”

“Sure, honey,” the nurse said, smiling. “Feel better, mmmkay?”

Selah walked toward Artemis’s unit as fast as her oxygen-impaired quads allowed. On the way there, she ran into Maisy.

“What are you doing?” Maisy hissed. “You need to rest!”

“I’m getting the hell out of here. Now.”