Blackout: A Tale Of Survival In A Powerless World- Book 1 Page 10

  Who was this Sylvester anyway? The origin of Camp Haven felt little beyond magical realism. There had to be a different truth to the camp’s birth, to the real identity of the man who supposedly founded it. Why was he such a recluse anyway? Why isolate himself from the people who claimed to have been saved by him? It was high time to find out. I kicked aside the blankets and slid my feet into my boots, then pulled on my coat and hat. If Sylvester refused to take a meeting with me, I would make one myself. Quietly, though DotCom was devoid of other campers at this hour, I snuck into the hallway and out of the building.

  It was colder than the deck of the Titanic on that fateful night. A pristine inch of snow covered everything like a white cotton blanket. The crunch of my boot tread sounded impossibly loud as I crept into the dark. The lamps were extinguished, so as to not waste oil, and I traversed the camp by the light of the full moon. It sparkled off the snow, beautiful in all its silvery shades. I wished I could appreciate it more, but the shadow of the cabin looming on the hill drew my attention from everything else.

  The outside of my childhood home had not changed, I realized as I started up the hill. The log structure had remained firm, though a few patches indicated spots where repairs had been made. The curtains in the window, red with white flowers, were the ones that my father had brought from the house that we had lived in before my mother died. I wondered if the inside had remained as unchanged, if Sylvester slept in my father’s bed, if he cooked in my kitchen, if he sat on the armchair with the claw marks from our old cat. The closer I got, the faster my heart pounded. I peered into the front window, reaching for the door handle.

  “Georgie.”

  I spun around, my hand to my chest to stop my heart from leaping out of its rightful place. Eirian stood below the hill, looking up at me, his pretty green eyes reflecting the moonlight.

  “God, you scared me,” I whispered.

  “What are you doing up there?”

  “I need to talk to Sylvester.”

  He waved me down with a gloved hand. “That won’t work. Do you want to get kicked out of camp too?”

  I hesitated, contemplating my options. I was a step away from meeting Sylvester in person. All I had to do was open the door and walk inside the cabin. It was my home in the first place. I had a right to return to it. However, Eirian had a point. This was no longer the place where I had grown up with my father. It belonged to other people with different rules, people who were not fond of those who refused to follow the rules. I drifted away from the front door of the cabin, staring wistfully at the threshold.

  “That’s it,” Eirian encouraged. “Come here.”

  At the bottom of the hill, he collected me in a one-armed hug, leaving enough space between us to make clear a lack of romantic interest. It had been like this ever since Jacob had seen us hugging at the campfire. Though Eirian’s unfailing positivity had not wavered and our camaraderie went on uninterrupted, he made a point to keep a fair amount of distance between us.

  “Let’s get you back to your room.” He tugged me in the direction of the cottage where Jacob slept, but I planted my feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been sleeping at the office,” I admitted, dipping my head to avoid Eirian’s eyes.

  “Why?”

  “You heard Jacob,” I said. “He won’t forgive me for the part I played in Jove’s expulsion. He hates me.”

  Eirian instinctively squeezed me tighter. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

  “Believe me, he does.”

  He sighed and switched direction, leading us toward DotCom instead. “I’m so sorry, Georgie. Maybe if you talk to him—Move!”

  The command was issued in a hushed urgent whisper as Eirian practically lifted me from the ground, rushed us into the shadows of DotCom, and pressed me up against the wall. His body enveloped mine, and heat rushed through me from my head to my toes, but when a set of footsteps that did not belong to either one of us turned the corner, my skin went cold again. Eirian dipped his head and pressed his lips to the pulse pounding in my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, getting lost momentarily in his touch until I realized what he was doing. A lamp light flickered on.

  “Having fun?” a low voice drawled.

  Eirian sprang away, shielding his eyes against the light, and the cold rushed in to meet my body again. Ludo smirked from behind the lamp.

  “Boss!” Eirian said with feigned surprise. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Funny,” Ludo replied. “I could ask the two of you the same thing.”

  “We were just—” I started.

  “Taking a walk,” Eirian finished.

  Ludo raised an eyebrow. “I see that. Eirian, you should know better. Curfew is ten o’clock. I could give you both a demerit for this. We have these rules for your safety.”

  Eirian stepped in front of me. “Please, sir, don’t blame Georgie. This was all my idea. It’s just that—well, you know, it’s been rough between her and Jacob—and we couldn’t—we haven’t—If you have to give out a demerit, it should be to me.”

  “Eirian, no,” I whispered, trying to shove him aside so that I could speak to Ludo truthfully.

  “Slow down, kid,” Ludo said. “I get it. Things change. But you know how we do things around here. No drama. Solve your problems. Get back to your bunk, the ones that were assigned to you. And Georgie?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We’ll talk about the cottage tomorrow,” he said. “Other families need the space. You and Jacob will need to bunk somewhere else.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “All right,” Ludo said, fixing us with one more warning look like a principal scolding misbehaved students. “Get out of there.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Eirian said, taking my hand and leading me around the other side of DotCom. Once we were out of Ludo’s earshot, he abruptly let go. “I am so sorry. That was a complete invasion of your privacy, but Ludo is ridiculously strict about curfew. The only thing that softens him up is a good romantic subplot.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, trying not to shiver as I remembered the feeling of Eirian’s firm body against mine. “But I can’t go back to the cottage.”

  “I have a single,” Eirian offered. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “And what happens when the whole camp sees us come out of the same room in the morning?” I asked him.

  “Right.”

  “I just want to go back to the office,” I told him. “It’s warm there, and I can work if I can’t sleep.”

  “You’ve been working through the night?” he asked. “No wonder you’ve looked so tired these days. Come on. Let’s get you back.”

  He peeked around the corner of the building to make sure that Ludo had gone on his way. Then we snuck into DotCom and returned to the communications office. Eirian looked at the pile of blankets on the floor.

  “This isn’t right,” he said. “You should have a real bed.”

  “It’s fine. Besides, I’m talking to Ludo about it tomorrow, remember?”

  “You better,” he replied. “Otherwise, we’re switching rooms.”

  I shook off my coat and shoes. “Hit the lights on your way out, will you?”

  The joke was a feeble one, but it still made him chuckle. “Good night, Georgie.”

  “Night, Eirian.”

  THE NEXT DAY was a rough one. I woke with a kink in my neck due to the distinct lack of pillows in the communications office. I was late to breakfast, which meant that I had missed out on the eggs and bacon and got stuck with cold oatmeal. To make matters worse, Ludo cornered me in the Bistro with Jacob at his side. He pulled us both into his office at DotCom to talk to us about the sleeping situation.

  “As I’m sure you’re both aware, the camp’s bed numbers are limited,” Ludo began as Jacob and I stood awkwardly shoulder-to-shoulder in the cramped office. “The cottage you’re currently staying at is needed for a couple with a newborn. As such, we plan to reassign both
of you to different bunks. For now, you’ll each have a bed in the dormitories, but you can apply for a private room together.” His gaze drifted toward me, but I kept my eyes on the floor. “Would you like me to put your names on the waiting list?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Jacob said. “Georgie and I are no longer engaged.”

  A mixture of shock and relief flooded through me. He’d said it out loud. We were broken up. There was no “we” anymore. I was Georgie Fitz, and he was Jacob Mason, and we were entirely separate entities.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ludo said. “Will there be any problems regarding this split or was it amicable?”

  “I wouldn’t say it was amicable,” Jacob replied.

  “But we won’t cause any issues for you or the camp,” I added quickly. “If you don’t mind, I’m running behind on my work, Ludo. Can we move this along?”

  “Sure thing,” he said. “Georgie, you’ve been assigned bunk twenty-five in the women’s dorms. Jacob, you have bunk nineteen in the men’s. Please move your stuff from the cottage to your new lodgings by the end of the day.”

  We left Ludo’s office, standing in the hallway of DotCom.

  “What now?” I said.

  “Nothing,” he replied, buttoning up his coat in an indifferent manner. “I’ll see you around, Georgie.”

  When he had gone, I stood for a moment longer in the hallway, wondering if I should feel something deeper than I actually did. The only thing that was lost to me was the idea of normalcy that I’d been nursing since I was nineteen, but the EMP blast had destroyed that long before Jacob and I arrived at Camp Haven. Things would be better this way. There was no more pretending, no more walking on eggshells to keep secrets that didn’t seem to matter anyway.

  I found Eirian in the Communications office, already tinkering with radio parts. He had folded my blankets into neat squares and stacked them out of the way.

  “Good morning,” he said, glancing up before returning to the gadget in his hand. “Is everything okay?”

  “Let’s just get to work.”

  The communications office was starting to feel like a joke. The radio tower stood in the middle of camp like a giant symbol of my failure to build a working radio. For some reason, I just couldn’t figure out how to wire one with the components that were available to me, no matter how many hours I spent hunched over the desk. Eirian’s patience was helpful and irritating at the same time. He continued to show up and listen to me babble about the history of radio while we worked. I was letting him down, along with the rest of the camp. I’d promised them camp-wide communications, the possibility of reaching out to other survivors, and a morning talk show. So far, I’d failed to deliver on all three.

  That day, though, something was different. My mind felt clearer than it had since the EMP blast went off. The radios were a puzzle that I had always loved. I started fresh, fitting together the pieces one by one. At some point, Eirian stopped his own work to watch me. He didn’t interrupt or ask questions. He simply studied my hands as they wrapped wire and connected pieces together until I had completed an entire unit. Then I hooked up the solar panel to the battery charger in a new pattern.

  “Moment of truth,” I said. “Let’s go outside and see if it works.”

  We stood behind DotCom with the radio and panel in hand, waiting for the sun to hit the panel at the right angle. Eirian blew air into his hands to warm them up as I fiddled with the panel. The light on the battery charger turned on, flashing red to indicate that the batteries were almost dead.

  “Panel’s good,” I said, trying to contain the excitement building in my chest. The working charger meant nothing if the radios themselves didn’t work. I popped the battery out of the charger and into the radio, then turned the dial. The rugged piece of technology sprang to life, sputtering static from the salvaged speaker.

  “Is that—?” Eirian began.

  “It works!” I said.

  I leapt into Eirian’s arms, and we both laughed as he swung me around. The static of the radio buzzed in my ear like a happy bumblebee. When Eirian set me down again, grinning widely, I stretched up on the tips of my toes and kissed him. He kissed back, his lips warm against mine, before pulling away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, breathless.

  “What are you apologizing for?”

  “You’re engaged,” he said. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Last night—”

  “We broke up,” I told him. “Eirian, we’ve been broken up for a while. We just thought it would be easier to stick together for a while, but everyone knows now. Ludo assigned us to the dormitories. We’re not together anymore.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  His smile returned, and he pressed his lips to mine eagerly, the radio trapped between our chests. “Whoops,” he said, pulling away as it crackled. “We should be careful with that.”

  “Let’s see if we can hook up a microphone and get it broadcasting,” I said, trying to catch my breath. Between finally making a breakthrough and the energy between me and Eirian, I felt more motivated that I had in weeks.

  7

  We were so excited to have discovered a working prototype for the radios that we stayed in the Communications office most of the day to build as many as we possibly could with the limited parts that we had. We left the building twice, once to get food from the Bistro and once to stand on opposite sides of Camp Haven to test out the range of our brand new walkie talkies. They stood up rather well to the camp’s broad area. Finally, the radio tower that had been standing for weeks without purpose was actually good for something. We made plans to distribute radios and walkies to the heads of each department, then spoke about the possibility of salvaging more equipment from the city. We worked well into the night tinkering with our new toys until we both fell asleep on the floor of the office, curled up around each other like nestling birds. Unfortunately, the satisfaction of the day’s triumphs and our dreamless sleep didn’t last long.

  I stirred beside Eirian. He slept peacefully, stretched out from one end of the office to the other, oblivious to whatever had woken me. I sat up, careful not to uncover him from the blankets, and listened. Silence. I rubbed my tired eyes. Whatever I had heard in my slumber was probably just the wind outside. I lay beside Eirian again.

  A door slammed. Eirian jolted upward, ready and alert, and noticed that I was already awake. He pressed a finger to his lips.

  “Who could that be?” I whispered.

  “It’s probably Ludo,” he whispered back. “He’s the only one that trolls the camp at night. If he finds us out of the dorms again, he’ll definitely give us demerits.”

  I captured his lips with mine. “Then be quiet.”

  We kissed silently for a minute, smiling against each other’s mouths, but broke apart when a much closer door opened and shut. Footsteps scuttled down the hall, toward the communications office.

  “That’s more than one set of footsteps,” I muttered, disentangling myself from the blankets and creeping over to the door.

  “Georgie, get down,” Eirian said as I inched toward the window.

  I peeked into the hallway. It was pitch black. None of the hanging lamps were lit, nor did anyone carry a handheld oil lantern. And then the bright white beam of an LED flashlight, something that Camp Haven certainly did not keep on hand, illuminated the small window in the door of the communications office.

  “Shit!” I ducked down as the beam haphazardly shone in and out of the room. “Eirian, those are not campers.”

  Keeping low, he crept across the floor and joined me at the door. When the beam passed again, he chanced a look outside.

  “Damn it,” he growled, his expression darkening.

  “Who is it?”

  “Camp Havoc.”

  “What?”

  He lowered himself to the floor again, and we both pressed our backs to the door, as if barricading it might keep the intruders from searching the office.

&n
bsp; “That’s what we’ve been calling the other camp,” Eirian said. “Shit, I knew this was going to happen!”

  “Shh! They’ll hear us.”

  “We should have taken more security precautions,” he went on in a hushed voice. “I told Ludo! I told him that they would find us and try to get in. Damn!”

  He slammed his fist against the floor. I pinned it down. “Eirian, stop. Calm down. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll just hole up in here until they leave.”

  “They’re here for our supplies,” he said. “We have a limited amount of things to get us through the winter. If they take even a fraction of it, it will put the rest of us in danger. We can’t let them steal from us.”

  He surged to his feet. When he stepped into his boots, I had no choice but to mimic his actions, but when he pulled a handgun out of the pocket of his jacket and loaded it, I stopped in my tracks.

  “You have a gun?”

  “It’s officially issued,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone. I carry it for everyone’s protection, not just mine. It’s moments like this that justify it.” He paused to consider the weapon in his grip. “Does it scare you?”

  “No. Actually, I came into the camp with one before they confiscated it. I wish I had it back. My dad taught me how to shoot.”

  “Are you any good?”

  “I don’t like to brag.”

  Eirian grinned. “I knew I liked you from the second I met you.”

  Together, we looked through the window, Eirian’s chin stacked on top of my head so that we both had a decent view. From what I could see, there were two intruders in DotCom. They wore all black, their faces covered with ski masks. They prowled the hallway, checking each door to see which ones were unlocked. Thankfully, Ludo was thorough when it came to the camp’s internal security. The only supplies they found at their disposal were the extra cloth napkins and dishware from the Bistro.

  “They’re armed,” Eirian muttered. “Or at least the point man is. Right coat pocket hanging low.”

  I squinted into the dark hallway, marveling at Eirian’s keen eyesight. Sure enough, there was an outline of a pistol pressed against the coat of the figure closest to us in the hallway.