odor—the body detail, burning the corpses outside the Wall.
“You know, I always wondered something,” Peter said. “Why did we call him the Colonel?”
“Because that was his name. He didn’t have another one.”
“Why do you think he went out there? He didn’t seem like the type. To, you know, let it go like that.”
But Alicia didn’t respond. Her relationship with the Colonel was something she rarely spoke of, and never in detail. It was a region of her life, perhaps the one region, that she withheld from Peter’s view. And yet its presence was something he was always aware of. He did not believe she thought of the Colonel as a father—Peter had never detected any trace of that kind of warmth between them. On those rare occasions when his name arose, or he appeared on the catwalk at night, Peter felt a rigidity come into her, a cold distance. It was nothing overt, and probably he was the only person who would have noticed. But whatever the Colonel had been to her, their bond was a fact; he understood that her tears were for him.
“Can you believe it?” Alicia said miserably. “They fired me.”
“Sanjay will come around. He’s not stupid. It’s a mistake—he’ll figure it out.”
But Alicia seemed to be barely listening. “No, Sanjay’s right. I never should have gone over the Wall the way I did. I totally lost my head, seeing the girl out there.” She shook her head hopelessly. “Not that it matters now. You saw that wound.”
The girl, Peter thought. He’d never learned anything about her. Who was she? How had she survived? Were there others like her? How had she gotten away from the virals? But now it looked as if she would die, taking the answers with her.
“You had to try. I think you did the right thing. Caleb, too.”
“You know, Sanjay’s actually thinking of putting him out? Putting out Hightop, for godsakes.”
To be put out: it was the worst fate imaginable. “That can’t be right.”
“I’m serious, Peter. I promise you, they’re talking about it right now.”
“The others would never stand for it.”
“Since when do they really have a say about anything? You were in that room. People are scared. Somebody’s got to take the blame for Teacher’s death. Caleb’s all alone. He’s easy.”
Peter drew a breath and held it. “Look, I know Sanjay. He can be pretty full of himself, but I really don’t think he’s like that. And everybody likes Caleb.”
“Everybody liked Arlo. Everybody liked your brother. It doesn’t mean the story won’t end badly.”
“You’re beginning to sound like Theo.”
“Maybe so.” She was gazing ahead, squinting into the light. “All I know is, Caleb saved me last night. Sanjay thinks he’s going to put him out, he’s going to have to deal with me.”
“Lish.” He paused. “Be careful. Think about what you’re saying.”
“I have thought about it. Nobody’s putting him out.”
“You know I’m on your side.”
“You may not want to be.”
Around them, the Colony was eerily quiet, everyone still stunned by the events of the early hours of the morning. Peter wondered if this was the silence that came after something, or before. If it was the silence of blame being tallied. Alicia wasn’t wrong; people were frightened.
“About the girl,” Peter said. “There’s something I should have told you.”
The lockup was an old public bathroom in the trailer park on the east side of town. As they made their approach, Peter and Alicia heard a swell of voices on the air. They picked up the pace as they moved through the maze of tipping hulks—most had long since been stripped for parts—and arrived to find a small crowd at the entrance, about a dozen men and women gathered tightly around a single Watcher, Dale Levine.
“What the hell is going on?” Peter whispered.
Alicia’s face was grim. “It’s started,” she said. “That’s what.”
Dale was not a small man, but at that moment, he seemed so. Facing the crowd, he looked like a cornered animal. He was a little hard of hearing and had a habit of turning his head slightly to the right in order to point his good ear at whoever was talking to him, giving him a slightly distracted air. But he didn’t seem distracted now.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” Dale was saying, “I don’t know anything you don’t.”
The person he was addressing was Sam Chou, Old Chou’s nephew—a thoroughly unassuming man whom Peter had heard speak only a few times in his life. His wife was Other Sandy; between them they had five