Lifer

by Beck Nicholas

  I thought I’d lost Megs in my concern for her brother, but she’s by his side before me. She’s on her knees in the dirt and tears leave a shining trail on her cheeks.

  Megs’ hands fumble in the shadows at his neck. Looking for a pulse I guess. She gulps. “He’s alive.”

  Another girl…another brother…I almost…The faint memory’s gone before it solidifies in my brain.

  There’s no time to check whether moving the kid’s a good idea. Either way I can’t leave him here at the mercy of those who hurt him. With Megs’ help, I slide one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulders and haul him into my arms.

  A convulsion of pain arches his body and he screams, deep in his throat. It’s not loud but it rips through me. Again, a half memory of another boy crying weakens my knees and I almost land us both face first on the floor.

  The memory happens in a heartbeat.

  I pull myself into the present. He’s lighter than he looks. I stand. He arches again. His dark green hood falls back. It’s the boy from the alleyway. “Hello again, buddy.”

  It shouldn’t surprise me to find him here. This rundown city doesn’t seem big. The fact he’s Megs’ brother explains why she seemed familiar when I first saw her in the bar.

  “Buddy?” Megs asks. “His name’s Janic.”

  There’s no time for introductions. “Later.”

  We move with the crowd now. Megs tries to clear a path in the mass of panicked people. Through the doors and out onto the street. We’re on the opposite side of the warehouse, where we arrived. I think. I’m lost. I have to hope Megs knows somewhere safe to go.

  “Hey. Hey you. Stop there,” a deep male voice shouts behind us.

  It’s an officer. I glance behind and he’s a dozen feet away, weapon in hand. Playing a hunch from the morning, I move my body between Megs and the officer. A faint tickle tells me he fired.

  But I’m not hurt. It doesn’t bring me down the way it did the boy. I was right. Whatever the weapon is, it doesn’t affect me. I file the information away for later when hopefully I’ll have time to think.

  Then we’re through a gap in the fence and away into the night. Heavy footfalls echo off the walls of the empty buildings around us but I don’t see another soul.

  We’re on the street and a block away before we settle back to a fast walk. Megs obviously knows her way around, taking short cuts through abandoned buildings with confidence.

  “Who were those people?” I ask without slowing. “Who would shoot a boy in the back?”

  She kicks at a loose stone on the path. “Officers of the Company.”

  “Who are the Company?” I manage in between trying to drag oxygen into my lungs.

  I picture her shaking her head from the movement in her shoulders. “You really aren’t from around here are ya, Blank?”

  We support Janic between us when the path’s more difficult. Thankfully he’s passed out from the pain, because here any cries could carry through the night to wherever the officers are searching and give away our location.

  When we reach an intersection I recognize the crumbling orange wall from earlier in the night. It rained while we were inside the warehouse and the potholes are filled with murky water. The smog’s washed clean, but the layer of dirt on the road turned to slippery mud. Every step is laced with the possibility of ending up on my face.

  From here it’s straight ahead to the market and the gaming bar. Megs moves left.

  I don’t follow. “Where are we going?”

  “Janic needs help. There are medics at the station.”

  “The station?”

  “It’s our city headquarters.”

  “Who is ‘our’?”

  She runs her hand through her purple hair. The white lines around her mouth give away her frustration. “Forget it. I’ll take him myself.” Her slender hands grip the boy’s shoulders and she strains to drag his limp body from my arms.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You won’t get five feet.”

  “I don’t have time for twenty questions.” Her voice breaks. “Janic doesn’t have time.”

  The boy’s breathing is shallow. I can’t leave her to deal with him, but I have no idea what I’m walking into.

  “I’ll come with you, and carry your brother to the help he needs, on one condition.”

  “Anything.”

  “I leave whenever I want.”

  She hesitates. Then brushes a lock of her brother’s hair from his pale forehead. When she looks up at me her eyes shine with unshed tears. “Fine.”

  “Lead on.”

  She does. We cut through a ruin, and it takes the both of us to maneuver Janic over the rubble. There’s not an ounce of fat on his skinny frame, but he’s heavier with every passing minute. My arms ache, but I ignore the shooting pains and adjust the boy over my shoulder.

  A damp patch in my jeans spreads above my right knee. The burn beneath has long since stopped hurting. My injury is minor compared to the boy in my arms. I grit my teeth and tell myself it’s only splashed water off the road.

  “Nearly there,” Megs assures me.

  We enter another warehouse. There are no windows. When she drags the door shut behind us it’s black. I blink and make out a narrow path between stacked crates.

  I keep up with Megs and I wish there was some way I could take back my questions about the Company people. If I didn’t already look different and sound different I’ve just put a neon sign on my head and it’s flashing ‘No Idea.’

  I don’t notice the sentry until we reach the final door. He’s old, like really old, with white bushy hair and a matted beard. He’s wearing a faded green robe with a hole over the left knee.

  “Janic’s hurt,” Megs calls out.

  The guy slouching against the wall is on his feet and by our side in an instant. “What happened?”

  “Raid at the game.”

  He curses in a language I don’t recognize but with clear intent. “No one else has returned.”

  I don’t know these people but I get the implication. With the extra burden of an unconscious Janic, we weren’t moving at top speed. Someone should have made it back before us.

  Megs presses her fists into her eyes. Her shoulders shake. Is she crying? I’ve only known her for a short time but I’d bet it’s not something she does often. I stand there silently holding Janic, wishing I could do more to take her pain.

  Megs drops her hands and she’s pulled herself together. “We need a medic.”

  The sentry leads the way through the door. It opens out onto another courtyard, graveled and encircled by high brick walls. I’m reminded a little of the garden I woke in. Was that only this morning? It feels like a lifetime ago.

  It’s empty except for stacked piles of rubbish either side of the far door. The walls have high windows. It’s incredibly defendable. Are they at war?

  No one challenges us but I see faces in the windows. Watching. The further we get into the compound, the more exposed I feel. I have Megs’ word that I can leave when I want but she doesn’t speak for everyone.

  We’re only halfway across the courtyard when the far door busts open. It smashes against the wall behind. A man and two women come through at a run. One of the women goes past us, to take the sentry’s post I assume.

  “Keane,” Meg cries.

  Keane, the leader I’ve heard so much about. He’s surprisingly ordinary. He has shaggy black hair atop a big square head. He’s solid but not as powerfully built as the security guy at the warehouse. He doesn’t wear a robe over his jeans and white t-shirt. I’d built him up in my head to be a man mountain. I exhale and relax a fraction.

  Then he speaks with all the command I would expect, “Was it a Q?”

  “I don’t know.” She points to me. “Blank saw it.”

  Keane’s black eyes focus on me and I get a glimpse of his power. “Was it a Q?”

  I don’t know.

  “
I…” Dust coats my dry mouth and my arms are aching. I don’t want to reveal my ignorance about the weapons, about everything, so I change the subject. “I can’t hold him any longer.”

  Keane jerks his head and two more men come running from the building. Between them they carry a makeshift stretcher. When Janic’s eased onto it and carried away and Megs stays by his side, I feel even more out of place. But no one’s firing at me indiscriminately so I’m one step ahead of being caught by the Company officers.

  Keane gives the sentry a look and the old man crosses to my side. “Toby, look after our guest.”

  I fight a laugh. Look after? More like guard. I keep my mouth shut on the semantics. There will be time to ask questions when Janic’s stable. It’s not like I can do anything more to help him or Megs. I realize I’m starving.

  “Does this looking after include food?”

  Keane nods. The old man leads me into the building proper and down a long hallway with at least a dozen shut doors. Toby walks with a slight limp but his bare arms are still wiry with muscle.

  “You carried him all the way from the game?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a fair way.” There’s a trace of respect in his voice.

  “Yeah.”

  The kitchen’s at the end of a long hallway. It’s on a platform in the middle of what looks like two old train tunnels. The station. I get it now. Long tables surround a work area lit from above by lights suspended from a ceiling I can’t see in the shadows. It reeks of damp mold and burnt wood.

  Toby slices some crusty brown bread and then grabs butter and meat from a huge, well-stocked refrigerator. He sees me looking.

  “Some nights there are lots of mouths to feed here.”

  I can imagine. I estimate there were more than eighty green robes at the warehouse and that doesn’t include those at the markets or the faces watching from the windows when we came in. A chill breeze whistles through the tunnels and I shiver.

  Toby slides a sandwich across the bench, and I suspect there’s a grin hidden beneath that beard. “It’s warmer when the ovens are going.”

  “Thanks.” I take a bite. The bread’s fresh and soft, the meat and butter rich. “S’good,” I mumble, my mouth half full.

  “Blank, hey? Nice name.”

  “It’s the only one I’ve got.”

  For now.

  I’m swallowing my last mouthful of the sandwich when Keane joins us. He strides into the kitchen and owns the space.

  “Janic should be okay.”

  “Good news.” Toby claps me hard across the shoulder. “Thanks to you. You’re a hero.”

  Keane turns his full focus on me. It’s hard not to back away from the force of him. I stick to wiping crumbs from my mouth and sitting a bit straighter. I hope my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel after Toby’s enthusiastic praise.

  “Well done.”

  I shrug. “I couldn’t leave him there, he’s just a kid.”

  “You could have, but you didn’t. There’s always a choice.”

  His words nag at me; they speak of something I can’t quite remember. “Whatever. I’m glad he’s okay.” I want to ask about Megs but I don’t want to show how much a girl I hardly know matters to me.

  Keane’s gaze drops to the exposed burn on my leg. “Do you need medical attention?”

  “No.” I show him the tube of ointment I got at the game. “This seems to be helping.”

  “Get the kid some new jeans from the store,” Keane barks at Toby without his gaze leaving my face. “It’s the least we can do for him.”

  Toby’s exit leaves Keane and me alone. He straddles a chair opposite. “You’re the stranger Janic reported this morning.”

  I nod.

  “You must have something that belongs to us then.”

  He’s talking about the weapon. I resist patting my pocket where it’s stored. “I was thinking finders keepers.”

  “Finders?”

  So it might be a twist on disarming Janic and taking it, but I sense that backing down to Keane won’t win me any respect. He’s in charge here and while he might not be able to solve who the hell I am, he’ll be able to tell me what officer versus green robes war I’ve stumbled into.

  If the officer who shot at me and Megs outside the warehouse realizes I took the hit but wasn’t hurt like Janic, then ‘the tall guy who doesn’t go down under Q assault’ would have to be in his report. Then they’ll be looking for me too.

  “Who sends a kid out armed with a weapon?”

  I’m disadvantaged here as it is, in their stronghold with no idea of who I am. I don’t play all my cards at once.

  Keane is silent for so long I don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he sighs, and the leader is just a man.

  “He wasn’t sent out. He shouldn’t have had access to the weapons.”

  No wonder Janic was so nervous and so easily disarmed. He stole it to play with the big boys.

  “So I can keep it?”

  “For now. But I want some answers. Who are you?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  He stands, knocking the chair so it smashes against a bench, shattering one of the plastic legs. His hands are fists. My heart thumps. “This isn’t a game.”

  I rise to my feet, ignoring the stab of pain in my leg. There’s only a foot separating us but thanks to my height he looks up to meet my gaze. If I want answers I’m going to have to give something in return, but when I say the words aloud it’s harder than I thought.

  Just get it over.

  “I’m Blank. It’s my name and it’s who I am. I woke up yesterday morning with no self. I function, mostly, but I don’t know this place and I have no memory of my life or where I’ve come from.”

  Keane blinks but other than that doesn’t show any surprise. “Then you probably really need sleep.”

  “No, my turn. Why the raid?”

  Keane considers. “Because the game’s our freedom. They don’t control it and they don’t like it.”

  “So they want to control everyone?”

  “You’ve had your question. Rest now. As interesting as you are, we have people out there missing and I’m needed to help.”

  The exhaustion comes over me in a wave so sudden I fear they’ve drugged my food.

  But the nap I took hours ago at the gaming bar’s only a blip in a grueling day. “Why should I trust you enough to stay here?” My words slur.

  “I’m not sure you have a choice.” When I fold my arms and say nothing he adds, “There are Company people out on the streets. There’s no way you’ll be getting back to the gaming bar anytime soon.”

  “Sleep doesn’t give me any answers.”

  “You’ll get some answers after you rest. I’ll have Toby show you to a bunk.”

  “But—”

  “You have my word.”

  There’s no arguing with that, even if I thought I could stay awake to do so.

  Like he’s beckoned by some pre-arranged signal, Toby appears in the doorway with some fresh jeans. They match the ones I’m wearing. It reinforces my suspicion that the green robes and the market are somehow connected. The station’s an oasis of life in what looked like a pretty rundown, deserted place when I walked through it with Megs.

  “Thanks,” I say. I go to follow Toby, but stumble and have to fight the need to vomit.

  He’s stronger than he looks and props me up with one arm as we walk. “The game and Focus’n does this to some people. Sleep and you’ll be fine.”

  I’ve lost all ability to argue. He opens the third door, revealing a plain room with a single bed against the far wall and a set of drawers beside it. There’s no window but thanks to a skylight I know it’s still dark outside. “You’ll find a blanket in the top drawer. There’s a bathroom across the hall.”

  “Looks good.” With the weight of the escape through strange streets, combined with the comedown from the g
ame, it does look good. I can’t wait to take the weight off my aching legs and close my gritty eyes.

  But I have a question Toby might be able to answer first. “Has anyone else returned?” I think of the girl victorious in the game before mine, of all those people who spoke to Megs before we played, of the guy I beat.

  “Not enough.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Toby hesitates in the doorway. “We appreciate what you did for Janic, but if you’re found anywhere in the station other than here or the bathroom, you’ll be shot.” He offers me an apologetic smile and closes the door.

  Before settling on the bed, I retrieve the blanket from where Toby said it would be. I don’t change my jeans, unwilling to risk opening the wound by putting material over the top of it. I do reapply the balm, exhaling in pleasure when it completely numbs the area. Logic tells me that sleeping here and leaving myself unguarded is insane, but I’m too weary to stay awake a minute longer.

  I settle back into the bed’s soft embrace and close my eyes, making sure the weapon lies within easy reach. All I can rely on here is my instincts. My instincts tell me Keane, while ruthless and maybe deadly, won’t break his word. So far he seems like my best hope for answers and that’s worth the risk.

  Besides, what could they do to me in sleep that they couldn’t do while I’m awake?

  Chapter Nine

  [Asher]

  “I’m sure you have better things to do than come with me,” I say to Davyd as we wait for the elevator to the lower levels. “You could take me down and come back in say, half an hour.”

  He shakes his head. “Father might believe the sweet little innocent act but I know better.”

  “Oh.”

  There’s not much else to say. I plan to wait for the right time to ask him for help getting to the Control Room and the logs. The tightness of his jaw and stiff shoulders suggests now isn’t a good time to ask for a favor.

  A soft ding indicates the elevator’s arrival. We step inside, Davyd never more than an arm’s length from me. He takes his role as guard very seriously. We reach to press the button for the training level at the same time. My hand slides over his.