Page 25 of Brood (After the End #5)

One afternoon, while Bun is having his nap, I leave the nursery to stretch my legs and breathe some different air. I wander for a while until I end up in the Meadow for the first time since Bun was born.

I inhale deeply of the briskly moving air, my lungs expanding and my stomach relaxing.

I didn’t realize how claustrophobic I’ve been feeling all this time until I stepped inside this large room.

Will is working, so there’s no sense in wishing he were here with me. I don’t know why I feel lonely. I’m surrounded by people nearly all the time, but I haven’t felt close to anyone except Will and Bun since they took me out of the kitchen.

I wave at Danny and Tara on the bench that he and I used to share, but they appear deep in discussion, so I don’t join them. I find another empty bench on the opposite side of the Meadow and sit down.

I close my eyes and try to still the restlessness that won’t leave me. I’ve experienced it for months now, and it never goes away.

This place isn’t truly safe anymore. Not for me. Or for Will. Or for Bun. Or for anyone.

I want out.

Desperately.

“Cadence!”

My eyes pop open at the familiar voice. Bella. I haven’t seen her in almost a month, and I burst into a smile at the sight of her. She hurries over, and for a moment, I think she might hug me. She restrains the impulse but reaches to squeeze my hand as she sits down beside me.

“I’m so happy to see you. I’ve been worried.”

“Why have you worried?” I ask her, genuinely curious.

She gives her head a brief shake. “Just a feeling. You’ve been so droopy the last few times I saw you.

You were being stretched too far. I could see it.

But you’re looking a lot better now.” Her eyes are sharp and searching.

“You’re still too pale. And not as vibrant as you should be.

But you don’t look like you’re going to dissolve into nothing anymore. ”

“It wasn’t that bad.” It’s a lie. An automatic brushing away of scrutiny and concern.

“It looked bad. You’re feeling okay now?”

“A lot better. I’m actually able to get some real sleep at last.”

“And Bun is doing good?”

“He’s amazing. He still eats like vacuum, and he’s such a happy little fellow.

He seems to actually know who we are now.

Vera says there’s no way he recognizes me and Will or cares about who we are.

He just likes attention. But I don’t believe that’s true.

He giggles and babbles when he sees us in a way that he doesn’t with anyone else. When he’s crying, he reaches for me.”

“He does know who you are. Don’t let Vera tell you differently.”

“So you had the same experience when you were nursing?”

Bella’s face twists slightly. “You and Will spend more time with Bun than any parents I’ve ever seen, so it wasn’t exactly the same. But my little girl knew me then. I know she did.”

For some reason I don’t understand, my eyes sudden swell. Blur. “She did?”

“Yes. They took her away before she could say her first word, but she knew me.”

I’m shaking now. For Bella. And for me and Will.

Because that’s going to happen to us too.

They’ll take Bun away when he no longer needs my milk to stay healthy.

He’ll be kept in the nursery until he’s old enough for the schoolroom.

And then he’ll start his working life at thirteen and never know that we’re his parents.

We are. I’m his mother, and Will is his father, but they’ll never let us keep him.

We’re not supposed to even want to.

When I’ve controlled my emotions, I ask softly, “So you know that Will and I spend a lot of time with him?”

“Everyone knows. You need to be careful.”

“We’re trying. We really are. But how are we supposed to just go along with something so…so wrong.”

Bella just looks at me.

“How did you?” I ask in a raspy whisper, leaning closer so no one else can possibly hear. “I don’t understand how all these parents just let it happen. How did you manage it? Do you still…still think about her?”

“Of course I think about her!” Bella’s voice is as quiet as mine is, but it’s thick with an emotion I’ve never heard from her before.

“Every day, I think about her. We let it happen because we have no choice. We have no power to stop it.” She breathes for a minute until she’s back to her calm, neutral composure.

“But we never forget. We always know which one is ours. We watch from a distance as she gets older. As she gets through school. As she starts working. Finds her gifts and skills. Grows up. Grows beautiful. As she becomes a vibrant, courageous, loving woman. As she has a baby of her own.”

I gasp. Stiffen.

Bella is looking across the room. Not at me. “You find whatever way to get close to her you can, just so you can know and love the person she is. Because she may never know it, but she’ll always be your baby. It never, ever goes away.”

A couple of tears leak out of my eyes. Bella still won’t meet my gaze. I can’t speak. I can barely move.

She finally turns her head back to me. “Cadence, we accept it because it’s the only way to stay alive and to make sure your child grows up safe and secure. There are no other options down here.”

“Bella?” I manage to force out.

She reaches over to cover my hand with hers, but she does it in a casual way. “Please don’t make a scene. Your situation is tenuous enough.”

“But…but…are you…?”

“Of course I am. I always have been. Please try not to cry.”

“I’m not.” I quickly wipe away the stray tears and grip rightly to my control. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I? I was afraid of changing everything for you. And I wanted a secure life down here for both of us. All three of us. Trevor too.”

Trevor. A friendly, laid-back man I’ve known only casually.

My father.

We’re silent for a few minutes. Simply sitting together. Then, finally, I breathe out a thought. “So what are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“How are we supposed to…to keep living like this? Acting in ways that aren’t natural because it’s the only way to stay alive?

We’re…we’re trapped. It’s been like this for centuries, and there’s no way for a couple of people to change it.

The Refuge is the only safe place in the world. There’s nowhere else to go.”

Bella licks her lips. Meets my eyes evenly. “That’s…not entirely true.”

* * *

That evening, after Bun’s last feeding, I return to our quarters to shower and get ready for bed. Will has been reading on the lounge in our living area, but he heads for the bathroom after I come out so he can clean up and go to bed with me.

I’ve been jittery ever since my conversation with Bella, but I haven’t dared to say anything about it until now.

Will knows something is going on. He asked me when he stopped by the nursery to check on me and Bun this afternoon. He asked me again at dinner. And one more time before I headed for the shower.

He’s getting tense and impatient.

But how the fuck am I supposed to say this?

I’m in Will’s bed when he comes out in his underwear. Suddenly terrified, I pull the covers over my head.

He draws them up so he can climb in beside me. Then he ducks his head under the covers like mine, lying on his side so he can see me.

His brown eyes are stern in a way I haven’t seen in a while. They’re almost always warm and gentle with me now. “Tell me, Cadence. Right now.”

I open my mouth and close it again. Swallow and try once more. “I…I don’t know how to say it.”

“Just blurt it out. Is it…?” His voice cracks slightly. “Is it about me? About us?”

“No! Of course not.” I touch his beard lightly with my fingertips. “I’m…I’m scared.”

“I know you are. But I’m right here. I’m the one you tell about anything that scares you. And right now you’re scaring me too.”

That’s enough to propel me into speech. “I’m sorry. I was talking to Bella. Did you know…did you know she’s my mother?”

His thick eyebrows lower slightly. “I suspected. She’s got the same mouth and eyes as you, and she’s always treated you… I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected. Has it really upset you?”

“No. I mean, yes, but I’m glad to know. But that’s not the…the thing. She told me… You know Trevor, her spouse, works in Provisions? Well, a few months ago, he told her things. Things he wasn’t supposed to tell her.”

Will is frowning now. This is obviously not anything he was expecting to hear. “What did he tell her?”

“He told her that the ingredients for our protein blocks…don’t come from here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They don’t come from here. The soybeans do, but you know the quantity of those we grow. They’re not enough to adequately feed all of us down here.”

“The pre-War protein powder…”

I shake my head. “It ran out at least fifty years ago. They…they get the extra provisions we need from…the surface.” I say the last two words in no more than a whisper.

Will has frozen. Grown completely still. “No,” he says at last. “They can’t.”

“Bella says it’s true. Trevor told her all the details about how they open one of the exterior air locks, trade with the surface dwellers, and bring down the animal meat they need to manufacture the protein blocks.

That’s why they taste slightly different each batch—because they’re made with different animal meat. ”

“I’m on the council.” His face doesn’t reflect any sort of emotion, but I know he’s feeling it. He’s as upset and derailed by this piece of information as I was. “I would know.”