Here Skies Surround Us Read online

  “I would never leave you behind,” he says, turning and cupping my face with his hands. “Now we get to be together.” I want to feel the butterflies whirl in my stomach, because together does sound nice. But if it only ever happens in the wake of disaster, then the appeal starts to fade. Why can it never be easy to be together?

  He leans forward and kisses me, and it distracts me enough to ignore the warning that is growing inside of me. I feel better in his arms, more sure of us. But how long will this last?

  Evan lets go and opens my door, motioning for me to get in. “Ready?” he asks, watching for my reaction. I manage a smile as I climb inside.

  I take a breath and look back at Dome 1618 one last time. It’s not hard to say goodbye to my old shack; I’ve only lived there the last few weeks since we escaped the dome. But watching my old home, Dome 1618, as it disappears in our rearview mirror, will be the hard part. I tighten my fingers around the box that holds precious cargo people would kill to get their hands on and remind myself this is why we need to go to Evan’s dome—to protect the others.

  “Okay,” I say, sitting next to him. “Let’s go.”

  In a matter of seconds, I leave behind the only life I’ve ever known.

  We drive in silence through the darkness. My romantic notion of watching the dome disappear in our rearview mirror is ruined by our rushed escape. I keep thinking about what Jak said about watching what people wanted from me. Both he and Evan want the same thing from what I can tell—my loyalty.

  Evan stays close to the river, which is the same way he came from his dome. How far ahead is Alec, and did he know what was going to happen before he left? At least there will be one other person I know when we get to Evan’s dome.

  “We should take a break for the night,” Evan says. The moon is now perched far above us, and I stifle a yawn not realizing how late it must be.

  We find a nice spot, secluded by trees that run down to the water, which forces us to drive along the shore. Once the truck is hidden, we slip down to the shore to stretch our legs. The silent ride was just what I needed. Time to think. Time to calm down. We made the right choice, and I can’t be hard on myself for that.

  As I stare out at the water, watching the reflection of the horizon break against the ripples, I can’t help but think of Tassie. All she wanted to do was bring fresh water to the Outer Colony. Why would someone target her like that? She never, ever would have hurt anyone.

  Evan grabs me by the hand. “Come with me,” he says. “I have a surprise.

  He pulls me back into the forest. “Remember what happened the last time we were under these trees?”

  “How could I forget,” I groan, my stomach twisting and turning at the thought of how rejection felt back then. It’s not the same place, but it is the same stretch of trees where I tried to kiss him for the first time. A kiss he pulled away from. It seems so long ago I was trying to avoid him and his annoying wink and smirks, and now I wish they happened more.

  I squeal as he spins me in his arms. “Here’s to making new memories,” he says, and then he kisses me. I’m breathing fast, and it’s not from the walk. Finally, I let myself melt into his arms. Maybe I do overthink things, as everyone says. Here’s to worrying less.

  We lay out blankets on the shore of the river. The stars shine brighter out here than they do at home. Evan says it’s because the lights of the dome aren’t interfering with them. I think it’s because they like their freedom.

  I lie back and study Evan. Stubble lines his jaw all the way to his lips. He brushes my hair from my face and runs a finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of electricity from his touch. I lean forward and kiss him.

  His hand slides up inside the back of my shirt, and for a moment inexperience and self-consciousness take over, until my body presses itself against him and he responds back. I run my hand up the back of his shirt and feel his tight muscles against my fingertips. He shivers from the sensation, then kisses me slower, ending it with a kiss on my nose.

  “That was nice,” Evan whispers.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Why am I whispering?” Evan grins.

  “I don’t know.” I start to laugh.

  Maybe it’s the cool night air, or the comedown in the aftermath of our escape, but I feel like for the first time in a long time we can just be us. No pressure. No duties. Just the night sky and us.

  He pulls me against him and holds me tight as I look up at the stars; stars that were once blotted out long ago by the clouds of the Cleansing War. He kisses me on the forehead and tells me what our life will be like when we return to Dome 1618, and we laugh as we make our plans together for the future. We fall asleep like that, pressed together, breathing in rhythm.

  I wake up to the sunrise breaking across the river, the orange and pink hues lifting from the horizon, spilling from the sky into the water. It’s breathtaking. Back home, the panels of the dome were covered in so much grime, you could barely see the outside.

  Something snaps behind me, off in the distance, from inside the forest. Maybe it’s just a branch falling from a tree, but still I spin around and freeze as I search through the trees, my gaze jumping back and forth. No one’s there.

  “What is it?” Evan whispers.

  I turn back, wrapping my arms around my knees as I tilt my head in his direction. “Nothing.” I manage another smile. It’s easier now than it was a few hours ago.

  “There’s so much for you to see still,” Evan says, leaning over to kiss me. It’s soft and gentle. “I wish I could show it all to you, but we need to get going.” I let go of my knees and put my arms around his neck. I don’t want us to leave yet.

  “Are you trying to distract me?” Evan laughs as I push him to the ground and kiss him all over his face. He tickles my side, which topples me over, and then he leans over me. “My mother warned me about girls like you.”

  “She did, did she?”

  “Good thing I don’t listen to her much,” Evan says, leaning in for one last kiss. It’s short, but sweet.

  We load our things and soon are back in the truck, riding along the uneven ground. I watch our tiny sliver of beach disappear in the rearview mirror, and even glance again at the forest. No one follows us. We did it. We got away.

  “What’s your home like?” I ask after a bit, running my hand through the gentle breeze outside my window.

  “What, the dome? It’s just like yours.” He offers me a reassuring smile.

  “You know what I mean. What’s your mother like? Who are your friends? Have you known them all your life?”

  He bursts into laughter. “You have a lot of questions.”

  “Yes, I do. And what about your dad? You never talk about him.”

  For a moment, his smile fades. “He died five years ago.”

  “Oh—I’m sorry. You never told me.”

  “I don’t usually talk about it; it was a long time ago. Things were different when he was around. Our dome was happy. Normal, I guess. We had just moved to the outside, and Mom became the Director. She was all about innovation back then, creating a society that could build itself up.”

  “She’s changed her opinion since then?”

  “Nah. She’s just changed. I guess that’s what happens when you lose someone you love. Kind of like how your grandmother changed after losing her sons. My mom became bitter. She wasn’t like that before.”

  I ride silently, wondering about the woman I am going to meet soon. Will she approve of me or will she wonder what her son is doing with a girl who has nothing to contribute to a dome? I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

  “What about my uncle?” I ask. “Tell me about when you met him.”

  “Alec is a good guy. I was only twelve when he came to our dome. He had been wandering in the wild for months after he escaped. He must have thought I was so irritating, following him around everywhere he went. But he was all I had.”

  “I used to do the same thing w
hen I was little.”

  “He and my dad became good friends,” Evan continues. “Dad taught him about farming the land outside, creating irrigation systems, soil testing, and all those things that the dome protects you from. Then, when Dad died, Alec kind of stepped in. Not like he dated my mother or anything. He was like a big brother, and he took good care of my little brother and me the last four years.”

  “Little brother?” I ask. “You never mentioned him before.”

  “I guess I haven’t,” Evan smiles. “There are a lot of mysteries to this boy. That’s how I’ll keep you interested.”

  I punch him in the shoulder, and then scoot over next to him. Evan wraps his one arm around me and drives with the other. I feel his lips brush the top of my head.

  “What if I hadn’t been caught spying on your dome, captured and interrogated for information, and then later forced to work with you?”

  “When you put it that way … ” I start to laugh. “I’m sure there are lots of girls back at Dome 569 who miss you.”

  “Ha! Lots of friends, maybe,” Evan says.

  Friends. Lots of them. The thought of meeting them all makes my insides twitch. It gnaws at my thoughts until lunch, when we take a brief break and eat. We also rest for a bit, but this time we don’t leave the truck. Last night our adrenaline may have carried us on for a while, but now the lack of sleep is starting to catch up.

  After lunch, Evan lets me drive the last stretch. I’ve never driven before, and it’s nerve-wracking at first. I almost flood the engine with a few jerky starts, but soon I’m driving and he’s the one riding silently, watching the view out the window. The river is still flanked by the forest, but as the afternoon carries on the trees begin to thin out.

  By the time evening arrives, we are back out on the open plain.

  “Tell me about your little brother,” I say, trying to distract myself from my nerves.

  “Who, Quinn?” Evan asks. “He’s only four years old and super smart. He wants to be like Alec when he grows up. Oh, and he comes up with the funniest stories. He’s great. He’ll love you.”

  “Who’s taking care of him while you and Alec are away?” I ask. “Your mother sounds so busy.”

  “My best friend Remy works with kids,” Evan explains. “Remy is one of the few people I can really trust back home.”

  “What about your mother?” I ask. The truck gets awkwardly quiet.

  “She has the dome to worry about.” He looks out the window, tapping his fingers against his thigh. He doesn’t say any more and I don’t pry. Evan has never pushed me to talk about things until I was ready, so it’s the least I can do for him.

  Along the horizon, a dome begins to appear. It’s not as lit up as ours back home, but I know Evan’s people don’t use the dome like my people still do. Soon the sprawling colony takes shape, and a knot forms in my chest. Breathe, Nat. Just breathe.

  We enter a barricade of old vehicles parked at awkward angles, like a fence, blocking the homes that lie outside the dome up ahead. Evan’s hand slips into mine and squeezes my cold, sweaty palm against his warm, dry skin. I’m about to apologize for my nerves when I see four men run from between the cars and stop in front of the truck. I let go of Evan’s hand and slam on the brakes, nearly hitting them.

  “Don’t worry, Nat.” Evan nods. “They’re just here to see who we are.”

  “Okay.” I shift in my seat, unable to tear my eyes away from the strangers’ faces.

  Two of the men walk over to Evan’s side of the truck, and two come over to mine.

  “Open the door and get out of your vehicle,” a man shouts.

  “It’s just me, Karl,” Evan says, getting out of the passenger seat.

  “I said get out of your vehicle,” the man shouts again.

  Evan looks over to me quickly. “Don’t worry, Nat, we’ll be okay. Just do as they say.” I can see him biting his lip, and his gaze keeps jumping between the four men, making me tenser.

  I open my door and the two men on my side of the truck grab me by the shoulders and roughly push me to the ground. I can see Evan struggling on the other side.

  “What’s this all about?” he yells.

  “Decontamination,” one of the men says. “You know the drill. No entry until you’ve been checked out.”

  “Nat!” Evan calls over. “Nat, are you okay?”

  Cuffs snap around my wrists and I’m roughly lifted from the ground. “No,” I say. My voice comes out shrill, the sound of it foreign. I try to look around to see Evan, but the men are blocking my view. They jam something in my back that drops me to my knees as pain shoots through my limbs like bolts of lightning. Dammit, I can’t help it—tears involuntarily fall down my cheeks as I suck back a sob.

  “We got a crier over here,” a man next to me yells over to his counterparts.

  “Don’t you touch her,” Evan yells in the dark.

  “These are Dome 569 rules,” the man next to Evan recites. “If you want access to this city, you got to follow them.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Evan’s voice is full of anger. “My mother won’t have this.”

  The man next to me chuckles. “Who do you think gave the order?”

  As the men blindfold me, I take deep breaths to force myself to stay calm. If there’s anything the last month has taught me, it’s that panic doesn’t help.

  I can hear Evan grunting as he struggles against his captors. Every time he yells my name, it makes me wince—but I don’t respond. I don’t need to hear my scared voice, or make these guys feel more powerful than they are. Now is the time to survive. I am the girl whose parents died when she was nine; the girl who put on a brave front at age eighteen when she was escorted from her home to the Axis; and the girl who saved Evan from the infected. Crying will get me nowhere.

  The men push me forward. The one who called me the “crier” smells rancid. I wonder if moving out of the dome took away all his opportunities to shower. I smile at my humor and feel back in control a little. The other one wheezes loudly when he breathes. Neither seems to be Dome 569’s finest.

  My legs feel like mush, but I force them to keep moving. I can’t tell how far we walk, but I do note that Evan’s voice gets farther and farther away. A few times I stumble, but before I fall, they drag me back up on my feet. I’m pretty sure the stinky one tries to cop a feel. Thankfully, I steady myself fast enough and brush him off before it can go anywhere. Apparently, manners don’t come with progressive societies.

  Eventually, the men stop me, and I can hear metal grinding on metal, causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise. They push me ahead, and I fall to a cold, hard floor. The door grinds shut behind me. I don’t dare move a muscle as I wait to be pulled up again.

  I realize that wherever I am, I’m alone. I can’t hear the wheezy one any longer, and the smell of cleaning products overpowers the stinky one. I struggle on the floor, rolling around, trying to get upright. The least they could have done was loosen my cuffs or remove my blindfold.

  “Incoming!” a woman’s voice yells out. I scramble to get up, but four hands grab me before I can move.

  “Get her into a chair, quickly,” another woman shouts.

  I’m hoisted up into the air, and as they lift me, I begin to struggle against my new captors. At least I knew what the others looked like and where I was. Here I feel like a caged animal, trapped in a foreign world.

  “Let go of me!” I scream.

  “Shhh, dearie,” another woman’s voice says. “You’ll only make things worse.”

  “Don’t touch me.” I wrestle against their grip. “I was invited here. I’m from another dome!”

  “We know,” the first woman says. “This is all precautionary.”

  I’m seated upright and pinned against the back of a chair. Straps snap shut and tighten against my torso. My hands scream out to me in pain, the metal of the cuffs cutting into my wrists behind my back. I bite my lip to hold in
the tears.

  My blindfold is lifted, revealing four women in a white-walled room. They’re all wearing masks over their faces and have protective gear on over their clothing. I can’t distinguish between them whose voice is whose. One approaches me wearing bright green rubber gloves and lifts the sleeve of my shirt. Another wipes liquid on my arm as a third moves behind me, and I feel her hands on my shoulders.

  My body tenses. I know what is going to happen next. Sure enough, the fourth woman turns toward me, holding up a large needle in front of her. I start to squirm in panic and feel the arms on my shoulders brace my head. The other two women hold down each of my legs as I try to kick at them.

  “No, no, please don’t.”

  “Shh,” the same voice speaks to me. “It’ll only be a pinch.”

  I refocus on my assailant’s face. Her eyes are steely blue. The only other distinguishing characteristic is a lock of flaming red hair that peeks out from under the woman’s hood. I stare at her hair, swearing I will remember that color when I get out of here.

  The needle burns as it enters my arm. Almost instantly, I begin to feel a little woozy. “What are you giving me?” My voice comes out slow and sleepy.

  “We’re not giving, dearie.” The woman’s brows gather together. “I’m taking blood. We need to make sure you aren’t infected.”

  “Some welcoming committee you people have here.” I begin to laugh. I can’t help myself. The combination of stress, exhaustion, and the blood donation seems to have gone to my head. “You fools—we brought you an immune serum. We’re here to keep you safe.”

  The woman in front of me looks quickly at her counterparts and frowns, then she quickly returns her attention to me. Check one for me.

  When they finish, I’m left in my chair alone as they take off to run their little tests. I shift to give relief to my hands behind my back, but can barely feel the pain anymore. I lean my head back and try to maintain control of my mind.