75

　　• Silo 18 •

　　“What happened? Why aren’t they responding?” Courtnee looked from Walker to Shirly, as if eitherof them could know.

　　“Is it broken?” Shirly picked up the small dial with the painted marks and tried to tell if it hadaccidentally moved. “Walk, did we break it?”

　　“No, it’s still on,” he said. He held the headphones up by his cheek, his eyes drifting over thevarious components¹.

　　“Guys, I don’t know how much longer we have.” Courtnee was watching the scene in thegenerator room through the observation window. Shirly stood up and peered out over the controlpanel toward the main entrance. Jenkins and some of his men were inside, rifles pinned against theirshoulders, yelling at the others. The soundproofing made it impossible to hear what was going on.

　　“Hello?”

　　A voice crackled from Walker’s hands. The words seemed to tumble through his fingers.

　　“Who’s there?” he called, flicking³ the switch. “Who is this?”

　　Shirly rushed to Walker’s side. She wrapped her hands around his arm, disbelieving. “Juliette!”

　　she screamed.

　　Walker held up his hand, tried to quiet her and Courtnee both. His hands were trembling as hefumbled with the detonator and finally clicked the red switch.

　　“Jules?” His old voice cracked. Shirly squeezed his arm. “Is that you?”

　　There was a pause, and then a cry from the speakers, a sob⁵. “Walk? Walk, is that you? What’sgoing on? Where are you? I thought …”

　　“Where is she?” Shirly whispered.

　　Courtnee watched them both, her cheeks in her palms, mouth open.

　　Walker hit the switch. “Jules, where are you?”

　　A deep sigh hissed⁶ through the tiny speakers. Her voice was tiny and far away. “Walk, I’m inanother silo. There’s more of them. You wouldn’t believe …”

　　Her voice drifted off to static. Shirly leaned against Walker while Courtnee paced in front of them,looking from the radio to the window.

　　“We know about the others,” Walker said, holding the mic below his beard. “We can hear them,Jules. All of them.”

　　He let go of the switch. Juliette’s voice returned.

　　“How are you—Mechanical? I heard about the fighting. Are you in the middle of that?” Beforeshe signed off, Juliette said something to someone else, her voice barely audible.

　　Walker raised his eyebrows⁷ at the mention of the fighting.

　　“How would she have heard?” Shirly asked.

　　“I wish she were here,” Courtnee said. “Jules would know what to do.”

　　“Tell her about the exhaust. About the plan.” Shirly waved for the microphone. “Here, let me.”

　　Walker nodded. He handed Shirly the headset and the detonator.

　　Shirly worked the switch. It was stiffer than she’d thought it’d be. “Jules? Can you hear me? It’sShirly.”

　　“Shirly …” Juliette’s voice wavered. “Hey, you. You hanging in there?”

　　The emotion in her friend’s voice brought tears to Shirly’s eyes. “Yeah—” She bobbed her headand swallowed. “Hey, listen, some of the others are routing the exhaust feed to IT’s cooling vents⁸.

　　But remember that time we lost back pressure? I’m worried the motor might …”

　　“No.” Juliette said. “You have to stop them. Shirly, can you hear me? You have to stop them. Itwon’t do anything. The cooling is for the servers. The only people up there who—” She cleared herthroat. “Listen to me. Make them stop—”

　　Shirly fumbled⁴ with the red switch. Walker reached over as if to help, but she finally got thedevice under control. “Wait,” she transmitted. “How do you know where the vents lead?”

　　“I just do. This place is laid out the same. Goddamn it, let me talk to them. You can’t let them—”

　　Shirly hit the switch again. There was a blast of sound from the generator² room as Courtnee threwopen the door and ran outside. “Courtnee’s going,” she said. “She’s going right now. Jules— Howdid you—? Who are you with? Can they help us? It’s not looking good over here.”

　　The tiny speakers crackled again. Shirly could hear Juliette take a deep breath, could hear othervoices in the background, heard her give commands or orders to some other person. Shirly thoughther friend sounded exhausted⁹. Weary. Sad.

　　“There’s nothing I can do,” Juliette said. “There’s no one here. One man. Some kids. Everyone’sgone. The people who lived here, they couldn’t even help themselves.” The line went silent, and thenshe clicked through again. “You have to stop the fighting,” she said. “Whatever it takes. Please—Don’t let it be because of me. Please stop—”

　　The door opened again, Courtnee returning. Shirly heard shouts in the generator room. Gunfire.

　　“What is that?” Juliette asked. “Where are you guys?”

　　“In the control room.” Shirly looked up at Courtnee, whose eyes were wide with fear. “Jules, Idon’t think we have much time. I—” There was so much she wanted to say. She wanted to tell herabout Marck. She needed more time. “They’re coming for us,” was all she could think to relate. “I’mglad you’re okay.”

　　The radio crackled. “Oh God, make them stop. No more fighting! Shirly, listen to me!”

　　“It doesn’t matter,” Shirly said, holding the button and wiping her cheeks. “They won’t stop.” Thegunfire was getting closer, the pops audible through the thick door. Her people were dying while shecowered in the control room, talking to a ghost. Her people were dying.

　　“You take care of yourself,” Shirly said.

　　“Wait!”

　　Shirly handed the headset to Walker. She joined Courtnee by the window and watched the crushof people cower¹⁰ on the other side of the generator, the flash and shudder¹¹ of barrels leaning against therailing, someone in the blue of Mechanical lying still on the ground. More faded pops. More distantand muted rattles¹².

　　“Jules!” Walker fumbled with the radio. He shouted her name, was still trying to talk to her.

　　“Let me talk to them!” Juliette yelled, her voice impossibly far away. “Walk, why can I hear youand not them? I need to talk to the deputies, to Peter and Hank. Walk, how did you call me? I need totalk to them!”

　　Walker blubbered about soldering¹³ irons, about his magnifiers. The old man was crying, cradlinghis boards and wires and electrics as if they were a broken child, whispering to them and rockingback and forth¹⁴, salt water dripping dangerously onto this thing he’d built.

　　He babbled¹⁵ to Juliette while more men in blue fell, arms draped over railings, inadequate¹⁶ riflesdropping noiselessly to the ground. The men they had lived in terror of for a month were inside. Itwas over. Shirly groped for Courtnee, their arms entangling¹⁷, while they watched, helpless. Behindthem, the sobs and mad ravings of old Walk mixed with the jitter of deadened gunfire, a poppingnoise like the grumble of a machine losing its balance, sliding out of control …

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