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He could’ve climbed through it as easily as the sasquatch.
Thirty
The next day, Rector found the old jail again without too much trouble. He had a compass and a lantern, though it was daylight and he hoped he wouldn’t need them. He also had his ax, some extra filters, a canteen of water, some dried cherries and pemmican, and a number of other just-in-case supplies in the pack he wore on his back. A pack kept his hands freer, and his balance was better in the event he needed to run or climb.
He was no great fan of running or climbing, but in the walled city he never knew when it might be called for. There were rotters, after all.
Not as many rotters as there once were, no. Still, their ranks had plumped overnight for reasons everyone knew but nobody talked about. He didn’t like them, but he knew the city needed them, after a fashion. So he learned to take precautions and tried not to complain too much.
This was his first jaunt alone through the city since the day he’d arrived.
He didn’t yet know his way around as well as he’d like, but he had one of Mr. Miller’s hand-drawn maps and he’d been up and down the hill enough to know some of the landmarks. He knew where the wall was, anyway—and if you found the wall, you could find your way almost anywhere.
If you had enough filters. If you didn’t die of thirst.
Every trip to the surface was a risk even once you got used to it, like most of Seattle’s residents had. Even if you were ready for anything, and in tip-top physical shape, the rotters could still get you. The gas could still get you.
Rector thought maybe this was the only place in the whole world where you could die just from standing still. But he wasn’t standing still. He was on his way to the old jail.
Dark, cool, and spooky, it was a relic of a place. Rector could feel it: Here was a spot where a story happened … a real story, not something made up and fed to small children so they’d sleep, or be proud, or behave.
Not every place had a story like the jail, or Maynard. Or the sasquatch.
It was brighter inside the jail today.
The sun was up above the Blight, burning clear in a vivid blue sky for the first time all year. If Rector was lucky, it’d be dry and bright for a couple of months—and even warm, for a while. If he was less lucky, better weather would come in fits and starts, without settling in until September, at which point summer would vanish one afternoon as if it’d never been there at all. Since it hadn’t.
But for now, while the brilliant sky worked hard to cook off the ever-present fog, everything was kind of all right.
Dust specks and dirty air polluted what sunlight made it inside the old jail. The bits of abandonment floated smoothly, silently, stirred only by Rector’s presence. His foot kicked against something that clinked.
When he looked down, he saw the jailer’s key ring, cracked and crumbled almost to dust. It’d been discarded by the door and forgotten for almost as long as Rector had been alive, but it was a token. A relic more than an artifact.
He picked it up because it seemed rude to leave it. Maybe he’d give it to Zeke. Maybe he’d put it on a saint’s card.
“He’s gone. ”
Rector whirled around. He knew the voice, but it nearly stopped his heart since he’d thought he was alone. “I know the inexplicable’s gone. Me and Zeke took it outside yesterday. What are you doing here, Miss Angeline?”
She leaned against a brick support post, arms folded and gas mask showing nothing but her eyes. She wore what she always wore: menswear that had been tailored down to fit her. Her silver hair was braided and coiled back, and today it was mostly covered by a scarf, except where snowy tendrils peeked out around her ears.
Rector looked back and forth between the woman and the empty cell.
“Where are Zeke and Houjin?” she asked.
“Still in bed, I expect. ”
“Everyone’s had an exciting couple of days. Some more than others. But I’m glad you boys are all just fine. I’d have felt pretty bad if any of you’d gotten hurt. I’d feel responsible, a little bit. ”
“Why’s that?”
“I was the one who helped you learn your way about, and roped you into helping with the sasquatch. I urged you to poke your noses around the tower. Everything worked out for the best, I reckon, but even so, you don’t want anyone to get shot up over it. ”
Rector had been wondering something, though it only just then sprang to his mind. And since the princess was standing right there, he went ahead and asked. “Where were you that night at the tower, Miss Angeline? I didn’t see you anyplace, once the fighting got started. ” Quickly, he amended the question to include, “I’m not accusing you of chickening out or nothing—’cause I’m real sure you didn’t. Or wouldn’t. I just didn’t see you, that’s all. ”
She smiled inside the mask, her eyes crinkling up tight. “Funny thing about being an old lady … sometimes, it’s like being invisible. I was there, honey. Trust me on that one. And I saw you and Zeke up on the old governor’s mansion. You two did a real good job. ”
“Thank you, ma’am. ” He figured he wouldn’t get a straighter answer out of her, so he didn’t press for one. It was easier to change the subject. “Where do you think the sasquatch went, once he got outside the wall? Do you think he’ll be all right?”
