Page 113 of See How They Hide

He entered. “Calliope said you might be sleeping, but since you’re not, come to community dinner.”

“I’m really tired, Anton.”

“I’ll bring you a plate. I need you fresh tomorrow, so try to sleep.”

“Thank you.”

Anton left and Evan rose. When he heard the others head out, he, too, left. He walked down past the barn, past the greenhouse, to the small pasture behind the horse corral, where a row of crosses marked the dead.

Seventeen crosses for the people who had died over the thirty-six-year history of Havenwood. Many old, like Athena. Many young, like Timmy.

But more than seventeen people were dead. The others were buried far from here, in a field that bloomed with wildflowers every spring.

He knelt beside Timmy’s grave and silent tears fell to the earth.

Twenty minutes later, Matt was seated next to Calliope, who was at the head of one of three long tables, and across from Anton. It seemed that everyone in Havenwood was at dinner tonight. By Matt’s count, there were about ninety people, and at least twenty were under eighteen. There could be more—if Calliope had patrols, for example. Anton was here, but Evan was not. Matt overheard someone talking to Garrett. Riley had told Kara that Garrett had replaced her father who had been killed.

Garrett had been in the military. He had training. Matt couldn’t let his guard down.

People spoke quietly, politely. Food was brought out. Baskets of bread, plates of fresh vegetables, and tureens of what turned out to be beef stew—what Matt had smelled when he first arrived. His stomach churned in anticipation—he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Calliope explained, “We have family dinners once a week. A way for the community to bond. We’ve done it my entire life. Generally, we have the dinners on Saturday, but moved it up in anticipation of you, our guest.”

Matt said, “I’m not a guest—I’m a prisoner.”

She stared at him with hard eyes, even though she was smiling. “You can be a prisoner. Is that what you want?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Of course not. And you’re smart enough to know that if you walk away, you’ll be lost and die of exposure. You have no weapon, though you may think you can fight.” She leaned close to him and said quietly, “I put you in the prison so you’d know that it is there. If you go back, the fire will have died out. And I will not relight it.”

He believed her.

Calliope motioned for Anton to dish up a bowl for Matt. He noticed that everyone had forks and spoons, no knives. He could do damage with a fork, but not enough to escape. If he could sneak one out, he would, but it wouldn’t be worth getting caught.

Everyone appeared to be in good health. No one looked him directly in the eye, other than Calliope and a few of the people sitting at her end of the table. The kids were curious, and whispered among themselves. One young woman glanced at him with trepidation, then averted her eyes when he looked at her. Did she know something he didn’t?

“Eat,” Calliope said, staring at Matt.

He scooped up stew with his spoon, ate. It was delicious, and he said as much.

“We have a cooperative that works,” Calliope said with a wide smile. “Everyone does what they love and what they’re good at. We have a team, led by Gracie and Paul, who are in charge of our weekly family dinners. They could run a top restaurant Outside—” she flicked her wrist to indicate the rest of the world “—but providing and serving community is far more satisfying. We grow all our vegetables here, in a greenhouse. We raise our own livestock and poultry. To pay for anything we can’t produce ourselves—tools, gasoline for the generators—we sell crafted goods we make.

“Some people, including people in your government, don’t want anyone to be self-sufficient. They want us to be dependent. We have all shunned such dependency.”

“But they are dependent on you,” Matt said, taking a bite of bread. It was the best bread he’d ever tasted. A woman walked over and put another bread bowl in front of Calliope. The woman was missing her pinky finger. An accident?

“We are dependent on each other, and we support each other.”

“And if someone wants to leave, decides they want to try something new, you let them leave?”

“Why would anyone want to leave?”

He shrugged. “They’re sick and need medical attention. They become bored with a simple lifestyle. They want to travel, meet new people.”

Calliope frowned. She tapped her spoon to her glass and the chatting stopped. “Does anyone want to leave Havenwood?” she asked the group.

“No, Calliope,” the group said in unison. Okay, that was super creepy, Matt thought.

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