Beneath the Shadowlanders

Chapter Nineteen: Genevieve

We hand over a few of our canned goods for dinner, and Mrs. Castellan – which we've learned is Orion's last name – accepts them gratefully. She prepares one, a can of French-cut green beans, for dinner, along with a delicious chicken parmesan-style pasta dish. It's the first hot food we've had in months.

We settle down into the two empty seats at the table with Mrs. Castellated and Orion's sister, Calista. We're short a seat, so Orion is relegated to an ottoman dragged in from the living room, eating off of the coffe table. I feel a little bad for how much trouble we've caused him.

While we eat, Mrs. Castellan starts asking us about ourselves.

"So, where are you from?" she starts.

"The Shadowlands," my brother says nonchalantly, without even looking up from his food.

"No, I mean where do you live?" she clarifies.

"The Shadowlands," I echo.

Mrs. Castellan almost chokes. "You actually live on the surface?" She can barely contain her shock. Her fork rests on the side of her plate, suddenly forgotten. "Isn't that dangerous? Why didn't your parents bring you down here with the migration?"

"Don't got any," my brother interjects, yet again. I kick his shin under the table. He raises his eyebrows at me, as if to say, what did I do?

The damage is done, however, and our hostess gives us the most pitiful look I think I've ever seen. "You don't have any parents?"

"No, ma'am," I respond, before my brother has a chance to screw this up any further. "They divorced before the rebellion, so we have no idea where our father is, and our mother was killed during the first wave of attacks. It's just us now."

She nods solemnly. "My husband David was a scout. He disappeared on a surface mission. It's a pain not many can understand." She touches my hand gently. "I'm sure your mother was a wonderful woman."

"She was. I'm very sorry for your loss," I respond.

She nods, before returning to her questioning. "But how on earth did two children survive the Shadow Rebellion all on their own? And why didn't you join the migration? They would have placed you with a family, I'm sure."

"Oh, they offered," my brother jumps in again, "but they wanted to split us up." He rests a hand on top of mine. "I wouldn't let them do that. So, we stayed on the surface. We found an abandoned bomb shelter with some food, and a backup generator, and holed ourselves up for a few months."

"That must have been terrifying." Mrs. Castellan is so enthralled, I can physically see her food getting colder and colder.

My brother, on the other hand, is eating this up. "Oh, it was," he brags. "But we survived. And we figured out how to scavenge for food and supplies from the neighboring homes. And, of course, Gin here figured out how to tame the Shadows." He sits back in his chair.

I mentally groan at his hubris.

Our hostess leans forward into the table. "How do you do it? Is it a weapon? Some kind of trick?"

"Actually," I respond with a smile, embracing my own turn to brag a little, "It's common courtesy."

Orion's mother and sister both sit back in their chairs, uncomprehending. "What do you mean, common courtesy?" his sister asks after a moment.

"It's simple, really. I apologize for intruding, and ask them not to kill us." The look of shock on their faces is almost worth Gabe's insufferable smugness.

"That's it?" Mrs. Castellan asks, still not totally understanding.

"Yep, that's it. And it's worked so far, I guess. I mean, we're still alive."

No one really has anything to say after that. We finish our meals and head up to Orion's room to get ready for bed.

As nice as it is to have a real bed for once, I find myself missing our cozy piles of pillows in the bunker. The bed is too hard and threadbare, and Gabe moves around in his sleep. We both relax for an hour or so – me reading, him sketching – before getting too drowsy to stay up and deciding to tuck in for the night.