Chapter 27

By: Olivia Folkers

After thriving in a valley alone for a year after the radiation bombing, Ann Burden finally met someone else, John Loomis. Mr. Loomis swam in a radioactive creek, which caused a serious sickness to befall him. Ann took care of him while he was sick, and upon his recovery, he started acting strange around her, threatening her. It came to a point where Ann had to leave the valley in a stolen safe suit for her own protection. Inspired by Mr. Loomis's last words to her to go west, she did so.

I must leave this place, or die knowing I did not stop a wrong.

I started off walking to the West, as Mr. Loomis suggested. It was a dreary, empty walk, and for two months I did naught but walk continually west and look to the sky, in a hopeful search for the birds of which he had spoken of.

I had just begun to think that Mr. Loomis had told me to go west just to have the upper hand over me one last time, when I found the book. I had been to many towns and libraries, and the books I've seen are all weathered, unattended to, and dusty. This book, however, looked like it was deliberately put down, and as I picked it up, I noticed that something was written in the dirt. The dirt that had been shoved aside had not yet been weathered down into the face of the flat earth yet; I had hope.

It was the next day that I walked along the mountains bordering the west with excitement. These mountains had proven to be a challenge for days now; I couldn't find a way in. Today, however, I focused more on the area surrounding the book I had found. I let my hands explore the solid rock, and I found a crevice that opened into something like a tunnel.

I paused, wondering it I should go on. I took a careful step in the darkness. My foot rattled against some metal cans, much like the ones at Mr. Klein's store, filled with canned food. These were closed, and as I picked one up, I noticed the lack of rust. This time, I ran on. The oversized safe suit slowed me down a little, but I continued on in the dark. I was filled with such dreams of a town, with a church and a store, and most importantly and vividly, the schoolhouse, each child's waiting face standing out in my mind.

I stopped when I was out of breath, panting. As I leaned against the rock wall, I remembered that in my haste, I had left all of my supplies. I pulled myself straight up and resolved that I would have to go back to my camp, spend the night, then take some food and water with me and come back tomorrow.

I heard a soft panting and quiet padded steps behind me. A dog that looked amazingly like Faro barked and wagged his tail, excited. He sniffed the air, then turned around and disappeared into the darkness. I followed, not caring about my supplies. If the dog took me to a place not touched by the radiation, I would be happy enough. Occasionally, he would stop, sniff, then go on and I would see another tunnel branch off the one we were on.

The dog led me to the very end of the tunnel, and I pushed myself out of another crevice, into a field of wheat. Birds flew overhead, bugs crawled on the dirt, and everything was alive. The dog, however, did not find this revelation breath taking, for he went on ahead while I stood dumbstruck. He impatiently barked at me, and I ran up to him and stood not ten feet from a lit house.

The dog started barking madly and a boy came out and immediately stared at me with wide, surprised eyes.

"Momma! Pa! Come looky here! There's someone out here!" he cried out, and a man came out, quickly followed by a cautious woman.

"Matt," the woman said, putting a protective stance in front of her son, "go inside."

"But Ma-"

"Now, Matthew," she said, taking a step backwards from me.

While she had been doing that, I had failed to notice the man, who then attacked me from behind. He then quickly tied my wrists and ankles together. I didn't fight; the man had a knife. They took me inside, while the woman dialed on the telephone.

Another man arrived shortly, a gun on his belt, and a scowl on his face. He took the safe suit mask off and blatantly stared at my face.

"Who are you, where did you come from, and who gave you this suit?" he demanded.

The couple tidied up the already clean kitchen, listening in.

"I'm Ann Burden, I come from Burden Valley, and I got this suit from Mr. John Loomis."

The man muttered something, then asked, "What has become of Loomis, and how did you get here?"

I told them my story (the couple was still listening, they were both silently sweeping the spotless floor) about how Mr. Loomis came to the valley and how I hid until he was sick, about his deliriousness, and then, finally, how he regained his health and I was forced to leave for my own safety, with the dream of becoming a schoolteacher.

"Well then, Miss Burden, by all standards you seem to have stumbled on this society by pure luck on your part. I am Mr. Gleason, and I am the one responsible and in charge of this area-- the town of Whitefield. Under these circumstances, you will stay with the Powells, and will help them with their farm work until you get assigned a job." The man turned to leave, but paused. "Don't mention this to anyone."

So Mr. Gleason left, and the next week I was assigned to be a schoolteacher at a school just down the road. However, in my good fortune I did not forget about Mr. Loomis, and the promise I made. Whenever I brought up the subject of Mr. Loomis, the Powells would quiet the subject they were already on and ask each other about the weather, and Matt would just look at me and shrug.

All of my dreams seemed to be coming true-- Mr. and Mrs. Powell were like parents to me, Matt was like a brother, and their dog, Ox, reminded me so much of Faro. Every day, except Sundays, I taught the school children, Matt included, and at night I went home where we usually played a game of cards before going to bed.

But something was not right.

Children went to school even on Saturdays, and went for ten hours at a time; church on Sundays was stiff and quiet, and no one dawdled afterwards to talk. There was no visiting or cal ling on anyone, no one knew anyone outside of their immediate family. It seemed that everybody in this place had a job, a specific task to fulfill.

And then people started disappearing from church. Their names were removed from the registry and they were never spoken of again. Even we did not speak of anything outside of the house or farm.

As winter came, I began to really worry about Mr. Loomis. Winters were harsh in the valley-- what if he ran out of food and was snowed in? I resolved to talk to Mr. Gleason, again, about it. I approached him right after the church service ended.

I made my request to go and get Mr. Loomis myself. I had seen warehouses of safe suits and wagons. I was sure that Mr. Loomis came from here.

"Miss Burden, I have given you a home, a job, and a family. I advise you to stay in your place before I change my mind," he said coldly. I walked away, feeling confused.

Mr. and Mrs. Powell (who had happened to overhear the conversation) walked silent as ghosts all the way home, occasionally glancing at each other. When we got home, they sent Matt off to do his homework while we sat at the dinner table.

They said that they didn't want to keep me in the dark anymore. They told me about Mr. Loomis. They told me that he was an explorer because he was smart and strong, about how he was thrown out with a wagon and a safe suit in a dismal direction because he was no longer contributing to the society, and that he went insane. They told me that those who don't contribute to the society as much as others get thrown into the deadness-- that was why schooling was so important. That's why people were disappearing; there was limited space and resources. They said the only reason I was allowed to stay was because I knew a way in that they didn't. They said that the crippled, blind, deaf, and all disabled were killed at birth, because of their defects. You were told what job you would do for the rest of your life, and you had to do it.

We all then did our work, and the Powells never spoke of it again. I now envy Mr. Loomis, with his freedom in the valley. I could leave this place. My wagon is still just outside the mountain, and I had buried the safe suit underneath the apple tree by my window. Maybe I could go back to Mr. Loomis.

Or maybe he'll go insane there, and I'll go insane here, and someday we might meet again.