lowered her voice. ‘I was in here when he came down and cracked open one of the crates. I never heard him. Look, my father blames himself for what happened to Victor, and he still doesn’t believe this has anything to do with you or your report. But I knew Vic. He wasn’t crazy. If there’s anything you can do, please. For me.’
She squeezed his hand. Donald looked down, didn’t realise she’d been holding it. The folded report was in her other hand. The footsteps approached. Donald nodded his assent.
‘Thank you,’ she said. She dropped his hand, grabbed his empty cup from the cot and nested hers with it. She tucked the cups and the bottle into one of the chairs and slid it under the table. Thurman arrived at the door and rapped the jamb with his knuckles.
‘Come in,’ Anna said, brushing loose hair off her face.
Thurman studied the two of them for a moment. ‘Erskine is planning a small ceremony,’ he said. ‘Just us. Those of us who know.’
Anna nodded. ‘Of course.’
Thurman narrowed his eyes and glanced from his daughter to Donald. Anna seemed to take it as a question.
‘Donny thinks he can help,’ she said. ‘We both think it’s best for him to work down here with me. At least until we make some progress.’
Donald turned to her in shock. Thurman said nothing.
‘We’ll need another computer,’ she added. ‘If you bring one down, I can set it up.’
That, Donald liked the sound of.
‘And another cot, of course,’ Anna added with a smile.
33
• Silo 18 •
MISSION SLUNK AWAY after the scuffle with the farmers, and the rest of the porters scattered. He stole a few hours of sleep at the upper way station on level ten, his nose numb and lips throbbing from a blow he’d taken. Tossing and turning, too restless to stay put, he rose in the dim-time and realised it was too early yet to go to the Nest; the Crow would still be asleep. And so he headed to the cafeteria for a sunrise and a decent breakfast, the coroner’s bonus burning in his pockets the way his knuckles burned from their scrapes.
He nursed his aches with a welcome hot meal, eating with those coming off a midnight shift, and watched the clouds boil and come to life across the hills. The towering husks in the distance – the Crow called them skyscrapers – were the first to catch the rising sun. It was a sign that the world would wake one more day. His birthday, Mission realised. He left his dishes on the table, a chit for whoever cleaned after him, and tried not to think of cleaning at all. Instead, he rushed down the eight flights of stairs before the silo fully woke. He headed towards the Nest, feeling not a day older at all.
Familiar words greeted him at the landing on level thirteen. There, above the door, rather than a level number it read:
THE CROW’S NEST
The words were painted in bright and blocky letters. They followed the outlines from years and generations prior, colour piled on colour and letters crooked from more than one young hand’s involvement. The children of the silo came and went and left their marks with bristles, but the Old Crow remained.
Her nest comprised the nursery, day school and classrooms that served the up top. She had been perched there for longer than any alive could remember. Some said she was as old as the silo itself, but Mission knew that was just a legend. Nobody knew how old the silo was.
He entered the Nest to find the hallways empty and quiet, the hour early still. There was a soft screech from one classroom as desks were put back into order. Mission caught a glimpse of two teachers conferring in another classroom, their faces scrunched up with worry, probably wondering what to do with a younger version of himself. The scent of strong tea mixed with the odour of paste and chalk. There were rows of metal lockers in dire need of paint and stippled with dents from tiny fists; they transported Mission back to another age. It felt like just yesterday that he had terrorised that hall. He and all his friends whom he didn’t see any more – or at least not as often as he’d like.
The Crow’s room was at the far end and adjoined the only apartment on the entire level. The apartment had been built especially for her, converted from a classroom,