Chương 12: Chapter 12: Quinn
Quinn watched Minnesota march away from him and felt a surge of embarrassment. Not wanting her to show him up any further, he followed after her, scowling that she hadn't been afraid.
He was terrified. Used to his life, accustomed to it as much as it sucked, prepared for ordinary problems and worrying about where he'd get his next paycheck. The idea there was something bigger and scarier than what his experience taught him so far almost drove him to his knees in terror.
But the sight of that little slip of a girl marching with determination toward danger was just the kick in the ego he needed to push the fear aside and follow her.
He could hear the twins shuffling along beside him and felt oddly better he wasn't alone. He felt them leave him, heard their footfalls move off to his left when they reached the outskirts of the colony, knew that, like him, they were going home. But he couldn't bring himself to do so right away.
He, too, felt the weight of the silence as he made his way through the center of town. New Paltos hadn't grown much past its original size. The population stayed pretty much the same in the hundred and twenty-odd years humans had lived here, replacing itself in a natural but withdrawn manner, as though those who chose this location knew by instinct the corner they carved out was the only place to be. So it didn't take long for Quinn to make his way to the outside of town, to walk the familiar road to the head of the mine.
Once there, he tried peering down the shaft around the creaking of the elevator, but the hole was dark, just like the rest of town. The emergency power for the mine must have been taken out at the same time as the main. He keyed the com, hoping for contact, but it too was dead. He listened for a moment, straining to hear something, anything, but no sound wafted up toward him.
For all he knew, Quinn and the three others were all that remained of the four hundred people who lived and worked in the colony. The idea was impossible to absorb.
Quinn felt his foot slide on loose dirt and grabbed for the cold steel elevator. He shuddered and backed away from the black pit, his heart in his throat. The last thing he needed was to fall into the mine hundreds of feet below.
Reluctant, but feeling the weight of obligation, he spun on his heel and headed for home.
The front of the house looked much the same, though one of the windows had shattered out into the street, spraying over the front step. He crunched through the glass to the door and pushed it open. The darkness inside seemed absolute. Quinn fumbled at the small table by the entry, fingers locking on his flashlight. He wound the rechargeable cell for a full minute before turning it on. The bright beam carved through the dust and darkness, cutting a path to the living area. He stopped in the doorway, his light exploring the empty couch, the discarded blanket. He slid his foot forward and he heard something skitter away. He followed the object with his beam and retrieved the sparkling thing.
His father's now-empty bottle gleamed in his hand.
Quinn tossed it aside, lost. Now what? He hated he didn't have an answer to the question.
He turned to leave when the beam revealed another treasure. Quinn crouched over the shattered glass filling the small silver frame. He shook it upside down to loosen the slivers then looked at it. His mother's smiling face was untouched by the damage. Quinn felt heat and pressure rise in the back of his throat, choked on the tightening in his chest and clung to the picture of his mother for support. When the wave of emotion passed, he used his penknife to pry her image loose. He tossed aside the ruined frame and stared at her in the fading glow of his flashlight before sliding the photo into his pocket.
He wound the light again, bringing the charge back up to full and headed for the door when Minnesota came rushing in. He was almost angry with her for intruding until the renewed beam showed him the look on her face.
"You'd better come quick," she said, turning and running off again before he could answer.
Personal grief shoved aside by a resurgence of fear, he went after her, the door of his empty house slamming shut behind him.
***
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