Chrysalis Read online

  I snorted despite myself. “There are forty-six boxes of pink Keds in alcove 7B. I have no idea who thought—”

  The ground bucked suddenly, toppling me sideways. I heard a report like a dam breaking as a gust of stale air whistled over us. A deep, ominous crash reverberated across the island, triggering another shockwave.

  Then, silence.

  Flat on his belly in the muck Derrick was panting like a hunted animal. “What the f—”

  “The silo!” I was on my feet and running. I slipped, sloshed, and scrambled up the waterlogged path to the bunker’s entrance, the electric lantern jostling against my side.

  Where I stopped dead.

  Earlier that evening, a blocky concrete tunnel had poked from the mountainside, accessing a military-grade blast door that had survived Armageddon. Now, the tunnel was gone. A huge swath of the mountain was gone with it, leaving a mass of shattered rock and mud where the entrance had been.

  The silo was blocked, trapping my classmates inside.

  2

  NOAH

  I ran as fast as I could.

  Legs pounding. Sweat oozing. As the sun peeked over the eastern heights, illuminating the valley in a soggy haze.

  I could barely keep my impatience in check. The paths were too waterlogged for an ATV, so I’d set out on foot. The trek from Ridgeline usually took four hours, but I was determined to make it in three.

  I had to. Everything had gone to hell while I was gone.

  I took the most direct route possible, straight through the woods on the north side of the lake rather than my usual hike across the southern flatland. Thorns ripped at my flesh as I barreled through the undergrowth, ignoring my burning lungs. I scolded myself for leaving the village while a thunderstorm was gathering, but honestly, when wasn’t one?

  Sam’s crew had a busted filtration system—without a spare valve from the silo stockpile, they’d have been drinking from a stream like cave people. The trip had to be made.

  I’d witnessed the lightning display from their camp in the western peaks, chewing on my fist beside Floyd and Hamza as bolts rained down. Then something exploded in Home Town. I’d wanted to sprint back immediately—cabins were burning—but the Ridgeliners persuaded me it was suicide to travel in that weather.

  The thought of Min battling chaos without me gnawed my insides. I’d nearly bolted into the night a dozen times. But it was the worst storm any of us had ever seen, and that’s saying something. When its leading edge reached our position we’d retreated into a cavern to hide like mice.

  Now I was minutes away from home, growing more and more anxious about what I’d find. The trees thinned and my speed picked up, though new streams ran everywhere and soon I was drenched from the waist down. My boots made awful squishing sounds with every footfall.

  The first thing to hit me was the smell. Smoke. Charred wood. A noxious, oily stench that could only mean something mechanical had burned. That or fuel. Pushing through the last line of trees, I was prepared to encounter pandemonium.

  Instead, I found . . . no one.

  Not a living soul.

  I ran down to the square, discovered the wreckage of supply buildings 3 through 7. Taking mental notes on what had likely been destroyed, I looked around, baffled. The village common was always busy at sunup—there weren’t a lot of other places to be. Admittedly, Home Town was less crowded now than when the whole class had been living there before the incident three months ago, but still. There should’ve been a dozen people puttering around on a slow day, and this wasn’t that.

  What the hell?

  I heard a noise behind me and whirled. Nothing. But then it came again—a sniffling, sobbing cough echoing from somewhere down by the stream. I jogged closer, trying to ignore the stitch in my side, and found Hector and Vonda huddled over four long bundles wrapped in blue tarps.

  My heart stopped.

  Hector looked up. “Noah.”

  “Who?” I blurted, hands trembling as I stared at the tarps.

  Head down, Vonda’s shoulders shook silently. Hector’s red-rimmed eyes lost focus.

  “Jamie. Lars. Morgan. And . . . Finn.”

  Vonda exploded in a heart-wrenching wail. Her hands dug into her thick black hair as she rocked back and forth. Hector reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Vonda and Finn had been together since inside the Program.

  My breath caught. I felt tears on my cheeks. It was so much worse than I’d thought.

  “Vonda, I . . . I’m so sorry.” I knelt and put an arm around her, and she collapsed against my chest. We sat like that for a long moment, but the questions couldn’t wait. “Hector, where is everyone? Did they all go for a resupply?”

  Hector seemed to startle back to the present. “No. They’re at the silo. There was a cave-in last night, and people are trapped inside. You should go, Noah. Vonda and I will stay to prepare the . . . our friends.”

  He didn’t say dead. Couldn’t yet. I understood.

  Death—something we’d treated as a minor inconvenience for so long—was real again. The bodies in those tarps wouldn’t reset. They’d never stand up and stretch, ready to laugh darkly about how they’d bought it that time before going about their day.

  Then Hector’s words fully penetrated and I shot to my feet. “Who’s trapped? How many?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Min’s up there organizing a rescue. I’m sure they could use your help.”

  I nodded. Looked at Vonda, wanting to say something comforting. But the words wouldn’t come, and I’d be bad at delivering them even if they did. So I turned and raced up the path. My muscles screamed in protest as I made the ascent. I’d been running for several hours and didn’t have much left in the tank. The trail was now a muddy slog riddled with puddles. Last night it must’ve been a river.

  Five more minutes of hard going and I reached the silo’s front entrance. I heard the commotion before I saw it—at least twenty of my classmates were dragging rubble away from where the tunnel had been. But the whole mountainside had collapsed on top of the opening. It took me all of ten seconds to realize the effort was futile.

  Min and Derrick were standing to one side, conferring quietly. I ran to join them, swallowing Min in a quick hug. She gripped me back tightly.

  “Noah, it’s awful.” She ground a fist into her leg as she spoke. “The door is buried under thirty feet of debris. We can’t move these giant boulders, and we can’t drop in through the top hatch because there’s no way up there now. There’s nothing up there now.”

  I gripped the back of my neck. “But there’s no reason to think anyone inside is hurt, right?”

  “We don’t know, because nobody’s answering the radio.” Derrick frowned at his walkie-talkie. “This entire side of the hill broke apart, and I swear some of it’s not out here. If anything fell down through the shaft, it might’ve jacked up the catwalks, the alcoves, and who knows what else. This is a disaster.”

  I ran a hand through my sodden hair. Tried to think deliberately. “Who’s in there?”

  Derrick glared at the wreckage as if to clear it by sheer will. “The collapse happened before anyone from the village reached the door. A blessing if the silo’s roof really did cave in, though we were all stuck out here in the rain like jackasses. But Sarah and the other princesses are down there, and those boulders literally weigh tons. How are we supposed to move them?”

  Min was shaking her head slightly. Her bottom lip quivered. I knew she was thinking about those four tarps down by the stream. “We just keep digging,” she said abruptly. “Until we force a way through. I’m not giving up.”

  “We’d need a forklift to lift some of those stones.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, testing the problem in my head. “Or the whole team of four-wheelers, pulling at the same time. But the village depot exploded, and the rest of our fuel is down there in the stor
age alcoves.”

  Min’s gray eyes found mine. “We have to get them out, Noah. And this isn’t the only way inside.”

  “You mean the back door?” I answered, surprised. “It’s a dead end.”

  Derrick glanced at Min. “Nobody’s used that since we came out of the MegaCom. I went down once, just to take a look. The power plant level is dark and nasty, plus I heard weird noises.” He crossed his arms. “The back tunnel runs directly toward the cliffs. In case you missed it, that side drops straight to the ocean. What good does that do us?”

  “But it’s there.” Min grabbed my forearm. “Derrick and I can—”

  “—stay where you’re needed most,” I broke in smoothly. “You two run this whole island. You have to be here and make sure no one freaks out. I’ll take Akio and Kyle, and we’ll check it.”

  Min seemed ready to argue the point, but I cut her off again. “I’m the official inter-camp liaison person guy, right?” I flashed a grin. “So let me ‘liaise’ with Sarah and her cheerleader coven while you handle the big stuff.” I stepped close, spoke in a softer tone. “You and Derrick need to keep everyone together. There’s a ton of work to do in the village, including some unpleasant stuff. This is our worst day since—”

  I winced, tried to pull the words back. The last thing I wanted Min thinking about was the accident with Carl. But one look and I knew it was too late. Min blamed herself for what had happened, and always would.

  “Okay.” Her voice was strangely flat. “Take a radio and call up the minute you reach them. We haven’t heard a word, and I’m starting to . . .” She flexed her fingers in a gesture of helplessness. “Just go fast. Please.”

  I wrapped her in another quick hug, then jogged to where several teams were hauling rubble away in buckets. The effort looked hopeless—house-size boulders had fallen directly onto the entrance, crushing the tunnel and blocking any path to the blast door. Still, our classmates were trying.

  I spotted Akio and waved. Then, scanning quickly, I yelled for Kyle. The two hurried over, chests heaving, faces covered in orange dust. Both had lived with me inside the Program at my father’s ski chalet. I trusted Akio with my life and usually picked him for the harder jobs. Kyle I was less comfortable with—he’d pulled a fast one on me once, during a raid, and had seemed too comfortable with the slaughter in general—but he was fearless to the point of recklessness. I knew he wouldn’t punk out if this got tough.

  Kyle wiped his mouth with a dirty backhand. “What up, Noah? This is a real mess.”

  “Any chance we get through?” I asked.

  Akio shook his head. “We might be able to dig around the boulders, but I doubt the door survived.”

  “Then we try a different way. Up for a climbing expedition?”

  Kyle grinned like he’d won a prize. Akio nodded, but worry lines dug across his forehead. “The back tunnel?”

  “That’s the idea.”

  Akio frowned. “Even if the door’s intact, how will we reach it? That side faces the water.”

  I pushed aside a tidal wave of doubt. “Let’s see what we find and go from there. Nine girls are stuck at the bottom of this tomb. We have to get them out.”

  “Don’t forget Devin.” Kyle snorted derisively. “He moved down two weeks ago. Their majesties let him stay because they need someone to cook and clean for them. I kid you not.”

  I gave him a sharp look. “Four people died last night, Kyle. Do I need to ask someone else?”

  “Oh, crap. No. My bad, man.” Kyle’s face fell so quickly, I almost felt bad for snapping at him. Almost.

  “Forget it. Let’s just hope we can get inside. Come on.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Back in the village we grabbed several lengths of nylon rope and three sets of climbing gear. Then we tramped around the mountain, scrambling up bluffs and powering through scrub as we circled the massive cylinder. Once buried deep underground, the silo now stood at the outermost edge of the island, its eastern side fully exposed to the elements and dropping hundreds of feet to the ocean below.

  I shivered every time I saw it from this angle. The silo looked like a bird on an unsteady perch. A few hundred more feet of erosion and our supposedly indestructible lifeboat would’ve crashed into the sea along with the rest of Idaho. It was a freaking miracle we’d survived.

  Scanning the seaward-facing concrete, I tried to visualize where the back exit should be. So much had changed while we were inside the Program. I squinted into the sun, probing the pockmarked surface with my eyes, but came up empty. I was about to suggest we go back for binoculars when Akio’s finger darted out. “There.”

  He’d spotted an indentation maybe forty yards to our right and a dozen down. But I couldn’t see if there was a door. “Could be,” I agreed. “But how do we check?”

  I glanced at the top of the silo, unreachable now with the mountainside gone.

  Can’t get up, can’t go down. What a mess.

  But Akio had seen more than just the possible entry point. “There’s a ridge below us that runs around the silo. I think we can get above the opening and rappel down to it.”

  I blinked at him. “Rappel. Down the cliff. Over the ocean.”

  Akio shrugged, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. “You have a better idea?”

  “I do not.” My throat worked, but there was no other way. “So let’s do it.”

  Akio took the lead. We worked along a sharp defile to reach the ridge. It was a full three feet wide—plenty big enough to feel comfortable if there hadn’t been a hundred-yard death drop on the left side. As it was, I could barely breathe.

  I heard Kyle gasping behind me and took solace knowing I wasn’t the only one about to crap his pants. For his part, Akio moved confidently, circling to a wider cleft above the indentation. Once inside there, I put my back against solid stone and tried to slow my stampeding heart.

  “We’re lucky.” Akio patted a triangular spike of rock jutting up in the center of the cleft. “We can tie off on this. I was worried two of us would have to anchor the line with body weight.”

  I shivered, thinking about that insane prospect, as Akio began securing ropes. He produced two sets of carabiners and snapped them in place, then handed me an ascender. “For the climb back up. Wouldn’t want to forget.”

  I shoved mine deep into a pocket. There was nothing left to do but go.

  “Okay,” I said. “All right. Okay.”

  “One of us should stay here,” Akio said. “To watch the lines.”

  Kyle’s hand flew up. I shot him a dirty look, but nodded. I was in charge. I had to go over the side.

  Akio offered to go first, but I shook my head roughly. If I didn’t do it now, I never would. I clipped in and took a deep breath. Every kid in Fire Lake had gone rappelling at one time or another at Starlight’s Edge summer camp. This wasn’t novel. But a quick zip down a scouted pitch on lines laid by professionals was a little different from stepping off a vertical cliff above a death drop and hoping Kyle didn’t accidentally let you die. We had no idea if this was even the right place. I’d have to climb back up either way.

  Just don’t look down. That’s always good advice, but especially now. Don’t. Look. Down.

  Three deep inhales.

  I stepped backward off the cliff.

  The line played out easily. I worked cautiously down the face, being careful with my speed. After three bounds, I reached the indentation and was forced to look between my feet. I blanked out the crashing waves far below, focusing on the opening. It was a small cave of roughly the same dimensions as a school bus. I lowered myself to a lip where I could stand and scrambled to safer footing.

  A weathered blast door was tucked into the back of the recess before me.

  I let out a huge sob of relief.

  I called up to Akio, detached from
the line, and approached the door. There was a wheel-locking mechanism. As Akio landed softly behind me, I grabbed it with both hands and yanked. The wheel didn’t budge.

  My heart oozed through my shoes and off the cliff. This door hadn’t been opened in millennia, and was exposed to the sea. Of course it didn’t just spin, and we’d brought nothing to cut the oxidation. This ball of rust might never open. Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

  Akio unclipped and joined me in the back of the cave. We tried the wheel together, but it might as well have been part of the mountainside. I collapsed with an exasperated grunt. Akio sat down beside me and squeezed his forehead.

  “We probably should have thought this through a little more,” he said.

  “You think?”

  “I bet the door is rusted shut.”

  “You are clearly a master of door science.”

  “It would’ve been better if we’d brought something to grease the wheel.”

  I chuckled sourly. “Let’s have this conversation up there next time.”

  “Deal. Of course, the door could also be locked.”

  I pressed my fists into my eyes sockets, then petulantly kicked the door. With a weary sigh, I fumbled for the radio in my pocket. Kyle could run back to the village and get what we needed. If the door was locked . . . well, that would be that.

  I was fiddling with the frequency when the wheel next to my head abruptly started rotating. My eyes bugged. I grabbed Akio’s knee. We scrambled to our feet as it spun several times, then stopped. Hinges groaned as the portal swung inward.

  Sarah Harden poked her head out. “Took you long enough.”

  I blinked. Opened my mouth. Closed it.

  Sarah’s blue eyes rolled skyward. “A thousand tons of rock just rained down on us. Did you think we’d just sit around waiting for you bozos? Please tell me you fixed a rope.”

  She stepped from the tunnel, followed by a sniffling Jessica Cale. One by one, three more people emerged. Alice Cho. Susan Daughtridge. Colleen Plummer. All were dirt-smeared. Most were crying. I peered past them into the tunnel, expecting the rest of the silo squad, but no one else appeared.