The Vault

Zoe stared at her front door, her lower lip worried between her teeth and a bulbous golden locket clutched in her tiny hand. There was no way she was getting back inside without being interrogated by her mother, she knew that. The only question was how much Zoe wanted to tell her. She could stash the locket under one of the bricks by the door. It was risky, but it might work. However, there was always the chance that someone would find it – just last week, someone took the little wooden bird she'd hidden in the shredded tire at the edge of the street. It would require an excellent explanation for why she was out so late to get past her mom, and for a moment, she considered staying outside for the night.

A shiver ran up her spine as the howling started in the distance. Her town was walled off by an electrified fence, but there was still no way she could spend the night outside her home. The beasts were out there every night, and every night they prowled the fence line, searching for a way in. Every town the beasts showed up was destroyed and all the people killed. The Agency protected her town, but her father said no protection could last forever.

She clutched her locket tighter. I'll just tell her, she thought. It was a gift, after all. She slipped the locket over her head and prepared for battle.

The door was heavy and groaned under the force of her ten-year-old hands. The door opened directly into the kitchen and into the wrathful gaze of her mother.

"Zoe!" Mom exclaimed. Her voice sounded dangerous, and the way her eyebrows furrowed so close together they nearly touched meant trouble.

"Hi, Mom!" Zoe responded, flashing her most winning grin. From the sagging olive green couch in their small living room, her father flicked his newspaper and said nothing.

"Where have you been?" she demanded but didn't wait for an answer. "I've told you time and time again, straight home from school, no detours! What would we do if they dropped a bomb on you?"

"No bombs for three weeks now," Dad added from the couch. His eyes didn't leave his paper, but Mom's did – she glared at him in a way that said he wasn't helping.

"Just last week, Rita's daughter was attacked for her shoes, and your cousin Tommy's been on bedrest for a month after what those thugs did to him-" The dull gold hanging proudly on Zoe's chest finally caught her eyes and stopped her tirade. "What is that?" she asked breathlessly.

"What?" Zoe asked innocently, then glanced at the heart-shaped locket. "Oh, this? It's a present. Some old lady gave it to me after I fell and skinned my knee." Zoe flashed her wounded knee at her mother, the blood dark and dry now. Mom's eyes didn't even flicker towards it.

"What do you mean, an old lady? Where were you?" Zoe looked away, pretending to think to give herself a moment. She wasn't necessarily afraid, but she knew what the reaction was going to be. This was what was going to get her in trouble, maybe sent to bed without dinner. Maybe even spanked.

"Well, Laurel stole my pencil and it's my last pencil but Ms. Vale wouldn't believe me, so I had to get it!" Zoe explained. She wanted to get the story out as quickly as possible before her mother decided she was guilty.

"Zoe," her mother said in that low voice she used when Zoe had really messed up. "Where were you?" Zoe tucked her chin to her chest and did her best to look remorseful.

"The Vault."

"Zoe!"

"Mom, it's not my fault! I had to get it back-"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to get near that thing? They'll come after your father at work, they'll take you from me – "

"Who was the woman?" Dad suddenly asked. Zoe hadn't noticed her father enter the kitchen until he was standing at her mother's side.

"I don't know," Zoe answered truthfully.

"What did she say to you?"

"Well, Laurel ran there and I didn't notice-" Zoe stopped under her father's expectant stare. It was one thing to have Mom mad at her, but Zoe couldn't stand anything but her father's smile. "Laurel's brother was there and he said he was going to beat me up. I tried to get my pencil and he pushed me, that's how I scraped my knee." There was a lot more to the story, but she could see her audience was losing interest. "Anyways, they all left and I was sitting there crying. The old lady came over and asked why I was upset."

"What kind of crap is that?" Mom asked, her hand rising into the air as she turned away from her daughter.

"What did you tell her?" Zoe shrugged again.

"Just that I was upset because Laurel's brother was too big for me to fight and I just wanted my pencil back. It's not fair he was fighting me." Zoe's little fingers went to the locket again. "She looked at me for a long time, then gave me this. Told me it would help me stop crying, someday."

"Did anyone else see you?" Zoe opened her mouth to answer, but Dad stopped her. "Think hard about it, Zoe. Did anyone else see?" She frowned and tried to recreate the scene in her head. She'd sat in front of the rusty old Vault, under one of the signs that said it was illegal to get too close. It was quiet there because no one lived there and no one walked there. There were no trashcan fires with homeless families camped around them, no skinny dogs scrounging for food. The old woman had appeared from nowhere, almost as though she came from the Vault itself. Zoe knew that was impossible – the Vault had never been opened because no one had the code – but where else had she come from?

"No," Zoe finally answered. "It was only me and her." Dad nodded and put his hand on her back.

"You have to come straight home from now on," he said. "No matter if someone has your pencil. Now, eat your dinner and get to bed."

After she'd eaten the same bland, grayish soup they'd had for the last week, Zoe lay in her bed wide awake, listening. Mom and Dad were speaking quietly in the living room, but they could never be quiet enough.

"I don't know why they don't seal off the area," Mom said. "If they're so worried about it, why can our daughter and all the other kids stroll up to it so easily? The keypad is still there, for God's sake, Linda's oldest tried guessing the code when he was eight, you remember?" Dad made an affirmative noise. "Her husband lost his license when the Agency found out!"

"It's all right," Dad said. When Dad said it was all right, you really believed him. "I don't think anyone saw."

"But who is that woman?" Mom, on the other hand, always sounded worried no matter what she was talking about. "What if she's an agent and we're being tested? Should I call the Agency?"

"You'll do no such thing," Dad interjected. "Christ, do you want them to take her?"

"No!" Mom said and Zoe could hear the tears in her eyes. "But I'm scared they'll come for her anyways and take her because we did nothing! They just took Rhonda's sons – both of them – and you know they say it's for education but they never come back – "

"All right, all right…." There was silence and Zoe imagined Dad holding Mom to calm her down, like he always did. Zoe felt a stab of fear, however – would they really come and take her away? She didn't do anything wrong, she didn't even really see the woman that closely. So why would they take her?

"They should blow the Vault up," Mom said, quieter now than before. "Veronica Adams has been dead for years, no one will ever open it. No one even wants to!"

"Some people want it open," Dad said.

"Don't say that!" Mom hissed. "You have no idea if they're listening!"

"If they are, this is all pointless. They'll be here by morning to question Zoe." Mom didn't respond and Zoe could practically see the thoughtful expression on her face. "Some people want it open," Dad continued. "And until they've beaten those people down, they'll always consider the Vault a threat."

"Idiots, all of them," Mom said. "What do they think she could've hidden in there that could possibly threaten the Agency? Who would even want to? They're the only thing stopping the beasts from getting in. We're one of the only towns left, opening the Vault would destroy us."

"They remember what Veronica Adams said," Dad said thoughtfully. "And they think the Vault will kill the beasts, somehow." He paused before adding, "I have to admit, sometimes I think about the life we could have if we could somehow fight back against those things-"

"Peter!"

"It's not a crime to think," he said, but he sounded defeated.

Zoe didn't listen to the rest of their conversation. Thoughts of the Agency coming and taking her away made her shiver, and she pulled her thin blanket tighter around herself. She could still hear the howling outside, even through the walls of her room. Those creatures scared her more than anything else even though she'd never seen them before. No one knew where they came from, but Ms. Vale said they were sent as punishment. Punishment for what, Zoe couldn't guess, but they'd been destroying cities and people for 70 years. If the Agency could stop them by opening the Vault, why wouldn't they?

Zoe brought the locket up to her eyes and examined it closely. She fiddled with the latch again, even though she'd already tried to open it. It was stuck together firmly – and then suddenly, it wasn't. Zoe didn't move for a moment, convinced she'd discovered a great secret. Then she sat up with a jolt and pulled her blanket over her head. Cocooned in the safety of her blanket tent and with fingers shaking with excitement, she pried open the two halves. She expected to see a picture or two, perhaps of Veronica Adams herself, but a dirty, tiny piece of folded paper fell into her lap.

She snatched the scrap of paper and carefully unfolded it. Once, twice, then three times she unfolded the paper. There was something written, but the ink was faded and it was too dark under her blanket to read. She leaned forward and lifted her blanket just enough for a beam of light to creep in and illuminate her safe haven.

Six digits were written on the paper, in a light, swirly hand:

31 17 28.