ust (Silo, #3)(87)

“Where did you hear about deer?” the man in the white blanket asked. “Do you have children’s books over here?”

Elise shook her head. “We have real books. I’ve seen deer. They’re tall and funny with skinny legs, and they live in the woods.”

The man with the whiskers in the orange coveralls didn’t seem to care about deer. Not as much as the other man. Elise looked to the door, wondered where everyone she knew was. Where was Solo? He should’ve been helping her find Puppy.

“The Pact is a very important document,” said the man in orange. She suddenly remembered his name was Mr. Rash. He had introduced himself, but she was bad with names. Only ever needed to know a few. Mr. Rash was very nice to her. “The Pact is like a book but only smaller,” he was saying. “Similar to how you’re like a woman but only smaller.”

“I’m seven,” Elise said. She wasn’t small anymore.

“And you’ll be seventeen before you know it.” The man with the whiskers reached out and touched Elise’s cheek. Elise pulled back, startled, which made the man frown. He turned and looked up at the man in the white blanket, who was studying Elise.

“What books were these?” the man in white asked. “The ones with these animals, they were here in this silo?”

Elise felt her hands drop to her bag and rest protectively there, rest on her Memory Book. She was pretty sure the page with the deer had gone into her book. She liked the things about the green world, the things about fishing and animals and the sun and stars. She bit her lip to keep from saying anything.

The man with the whiskers – Mr. Rash – knelt beside her. He had a sheet of paper and a purple stick of chalk in his hands. He set these on the bench by her leg and rested his hand on Elise’s knee. The other man stepped closer.

“If you know of books in this place, it is your duty to God to tell us where they lie,” the man in the blanket said. “Do you believe in God?”

Elise nodded. Hannah and Rickson had taught her about God and the night prayers. The world blurred around her, and Elise realized she had tears in her eyes. She swiped them away. Rickson hated it when she cried.

“Where are these books, Elise? How many of them are there?”

“A lot,” she said, thinking of all the books she’d stolen pages out of. Solo had been so angry with her when he’d found out she was taking pictures and the How-To’s from them. But the How-To’s showed her a better way to fish, and then Solo had shown her how to stitch the pages in and out of books proper and they had fished together.

The man in the white blanket knelt down in front of her. “Are these books all over the place?”

“This is Father Remmy,” Mr. Rash said, making room for the man with the bald patch and introducing him to Elise. “Father Remmy is going to guide us through these troubling times. We are a flock. We used to follow Father Wendel, but some leave the flock and some join. Like you.”

“These books,” Mr. Remmy said, who seemed young to be a father, didn’t seem all that much older than Rickson. “Are they near us? Where might we find them?” He swept his hand from the wall to the ceiling, had a strange way of talking, a loud voice that could be felt in Elise’s chest, a voice that made her want to answer. And his eyes – green like the flooded depths she and Solo used to fish in – made her want to tell the truth.

“All in one place,” Elise said, sniffling.

“Where?” the man whispered. He was holding her hands, and the other man was watching this with a funny expression. “Where are the books? It is so important, my daughter. There is only one book, you know. All these others are lies. Now tell me where they are.”

Elise thought of the one book in her bag. It was not a lie. But she didn’t want this man touching her book. Didn’t want him touching her at all. She tried to pull away, but his large hands gripped her more firmly. Something swam behind his eyes.

“Thirty-four,” she whispered.

“Level thirty-four?”

Elise nodded, and his hands loosened on hers. As he pulled away, Mr. Rash moved closer and rested a hand on Elise’s hand, covering the place the other man had hurt.

“Father, can we … ?” Mr. Rash asked.

The man with the bald circle nodded, and Mr. Rash picked up the piece of paper from the bench. One side was printed on. The other side had been written on by hand. There was a purple chalk, and Mr. Rash asked Elise if she could spell, if she knew her letters.

Elise bobbed her head. Her hand once again fell to her bag, guarding her book. She could read better than Miles. Hannah had made sure of that.

“Can you spell your name for me?” the man asked. He showed her the piece of paper. There were lines drawn at the bottom. Two names had already been signed. Another line was blank. “Right here,” he said, indicating that line. He pressed the chalk into Elise’s hand. She was reading some of the other words, but the writing was messy. It had been written quickly and on a rough surface. Plus, her vision was blurry. “Just your name,” he said once more. “Show me.”

Elise wanted to get away. She wanted Puppy and Solo and Jewel and even Rickson. She wiped her tears and swallowed a sob that was trying to choke her. If she did what they wanted, she would be free to go. There were more and more people in that room. Some of them were watching her and whispering. She heard a man say that someone else was lucky, that there were more men than women, that people would get left out if they weren’t careful. They were watching her and waiting, and the furniture was now straight, the floors swept, some green leaves from plucked plants scattered around the stage.