Numbers Ascending

by Rebecca Rode

  Virgil stood, frowning.

  I didn’t think. I just lunged at the fire extinguisher, tore it from the wall, and pulled the pin.

  “No!” he shrieked, but I’d already aimed it at him and pulled the handle. The pressure sent me stumbling backward. A couple of steps and I gained control once again. Virgil dove under his desk as white foam covered the chair where he’d just been.

  Stage two. Grunting, I launched the heavy metal tin toward the window and lifted an arm to shield my eyes.

  The glass shattered and came down in a sheet that looked remarkably like falling rain. The crash stabbed at my ears. Virgil screamed for his guards, but I was already taking two steps backward, measuring the window with my eyes. Jagged glass lined the edges, glittering a dare.

  Then I sprinted at the opening and leaped.

  “Stop that girl!” Virgil growled from somewhere behind me as I landed onto the metal landing with a painful bang. The fire escape was narrower than I’d imagined. Another few inches and I would have jumped clean over the walkway. I grabbed the rail to pull myself up and swung over the first few steps leading downward.

  Reject me, and she’ll be dead by nightfall. A sinking feeling in my stomach spurred me on. I had to find someone who could send a message to my family, and quickly. But how? I couldn’t run all the way back to town before he gave his kill order. Gram would be gone long before I arrived.

  I leaped the last half of the floor, flinching upon impact with the concrete, and sprinted for the parking lot.

  By the sound of feet pounding on metal behind me, I could tell Virgil’s guards had launched themselves out onto the fire escape as well. There would be others. I had to get away now.

  A for-hire transport pulled up, and I dashed toward it. The passenger opened the door and stepped out just as I reached her. I dove inside and yanked the door closed, ignoring her yells of protest. “Hawking Estate!” I cried.

  The vehicle beeped a warning. “Voice not authorized.”

  I recited Travers’s override code and tried again. No luck. The woman who’d slid out began to bang on the window with her fists. A second later, the guards pulled her off and began circling the vehicle.

  Maybe this wasn’t a for-hire transport after all and I’d just thrown out its owner. I swore. An old memory surfaced of Dad teaching Alex a similar code. Something about Mom . . .

  It came back. “Hawking Override Code Andreah 2168. Take me to Hawking Estate now!”

  A click confirmed the code, and the transport began to move.

  Thank you, Dad.

  I plastered myself against the seat in case the guards decided to use stunners, but their shouts faded behind me as the vehicle shot over the bridge toward town.

  Twenty-Two

  Legacy

  The transport was twenty minutes out when it began to sputter.

  “No, no, no,” I moaned, leaning forward to look at the dashboard and telltale blinking red light. Travers kept my transport charged at all times, but this vehicle’s owner obviously hadn’t. Or I’d stolen it before she could.

  I quickly did the math. Despite a transport’s speed maximum and my tiny lead, Virgil’s guards wouldn’t be far behind. I had a minute, maybe two. Even if I hid, Virgil would simply pinpoint my implant location.

  “Next exit,” I ordered the transport, which clicked a confirmation and pulled off to the side, sputtering harder now. The remaining distance would take half a day on foot, especially while walking through a thick forest of trees to avoid being seen from the road.

  I tried once more to send a message to Dad. It was rejected immediately.

  Time to find another ride, and quick. Most citizens would be happy to assist Hawking’s daughter. Then again, if I flagged down the wrong vehicle, I’d end up right back in Virgil’s hands.

  I didn’t have hours to waste getting back. I didn’t have minutes. If I couldn’t contact Dad for help, I’d have to rely on strangers to contact him for me. Unfortunately, mine was the only vehicle parked off the road. I’d have to flag one down.

  Unless there was someone Virgil hadn’t thought to block from my implant list. Someone only Dad and Alex knew about.

  I pulled up Travers’s name and sent off a quick message. There was nothing this time. No error message, but no confirmation of arrival either. It was as if I’d sent it into thin air.

  Behind me, another transport pulled off the exit. It was the generic model, a little muddy, with a catering logo on the side. Upper class but not Neuromen quality. Worth a try.

  I waved my arms, walking toward the road. The vehicle slowed immediately and pulled to the side. A door opened, revealing a girl a few years younger than I was. “You okay?”

  Hesitating, I looked up the road. “I’m fine. Just need a ride to . . .” I trailed off, watching a second transport follow and park right behind hers.

  Three doors opened. Four figures stepped out, all wearing blue uniforms identical to mine except for the gold bar across the chest.

  I cursed and turned to the girl. “Send a message to His Honorable Hawking. His mother is in danger. Tell him to hide the whole family until I can come.”

  She squinted at me. “I don’t have that kind of access.”

  We were out of time. I turned my back on her and ran toward the forest. Frantic voices followed.

  Four against one. Adrenaline fueled my sprint, taking me deep into the darkness of the thick treeline.

  Just another track and just another race. I could almost imagine Kole running beside me, concocting ways to trick me into letting him win.

  “Up there!” someone shouted behind me, and I put on another burst of speed.

  The forest couldn’t possibly get creepier, yet somehow, the farther I plunged in, the darker and more forlorn it grew. Before long, the sound of footsteps grew quiet in the distance. A bird squawked its anger as I flew past its perch, irritated at my determination to put as much distance between me and those guards as possible.

  Then the forest grew lighter, thinner. Happier. I was gasping at this point. My ankles felt sore from running on such uneven terrain. I couldn’t keep this up forever.

  Another distant shout, closer this time. It felt like I’d been running for five years. There was nowhere to hide that they couldn’t track me, but something inside drove me on. Giving up meant giving in to Virgil, and I couldn’t do that while my family needed me.

  I leaped over a root and realized my own recklessness too late. The other side dropped down in a sharp descent. I stumbled to catch my footing and felt my left ankle give way with a pop.

  Pain stabbed up my leg, taking my breath with it.

  I hobbled toward a tree and eased myself down onto a root, imagining my pursuers drawing closer with each second that passed. My ankle had already begun to swell. Sprained.

  The voices drew closer.

  I looked around for a branch, but there was nothing substantial enough to defend myself with. Not that I was in condition to do any fighting against one man right now, much less four. It was all I could do to sit and suck pained breaths through gritted teeth.

  A message from Travers arrived.

  I gasped and opened it, my blinking clumsy.

  COAST STATION 44

  There was nothing else. I read it again in disbelief. What was that supposed to mean?

  Shouts. They were almost here.

  I peered down the hill again to find that it wasn’t a hill at all. It was a cliff. It grew rockier closer to the bottom and leveled out into sand and gravel. The coast. It was my only chance.

  I started to limp my way down, clinging to trees growing stubbornly toward the sky while the ground continued to drop beneath me. With every step, my ankle throbbed as if a knife extended from the bone.

  I was only halfway down when the voices reached the top of the hill. A dog barked, far too close.

  My chest was aflame now. Dogs. That’s how they’d stayed with me for so long. Now it was a race to the water, and I could barely walk.
All I could do was keep going.

  I carefully picked my way down, letting the upward curvature of the tree trunks hold my weight. My good foot slipped in the sandy soil once, but I caught myself before I plunged to the ground several dozen meters below. Halfway there now.

  Heads appeared above me, and a shout rang through the forest. I was out of time.

  I half slid, half stumbled down the rest of the way, my ears straining for the slightest sound. There was talking above me, then the yelp of a dog followed by silence.

  When I reached the bottom, I dared a glance upward. The dog was picking its way down, tail dragging. The poor mutt wasn’t any happier about this than I was.

  I took off running toward the coastline. It was more of a hop-skip-limp combination. Adrenaline combined with my body’s natural painkillers were all that fueled me now. The water line was visible in the distance, a reward just beyond the rocks. The outline of a tiny building stood to the side.

  The dog barked, startling me with how close it was. I cut the limp and settled into a downright sprint, awkward as it was with all the rocks and my ankle. If I made it to that tall little building, I could escape the animal and catch my breath.

  As I drew closer, the structure also grew clearer. Faded red paint covered half its surface. The remains of a number took up almost the entire back side.

  45.

  Oh. A lifeguard station—but it was the wrong number.

  I shot Travers another message and rounded the building just as the dog reached me. I leaped onto the ladder and climbed up as the dog’s teeth grazed my hurt foot. I pulled my legs up beneath me and perched like a cornered squirrel as the dog began to bark.

  Those guards would be descending that hill right now, if they hadn’t already. I didn’t have long. But my options were limited. Running would be hard enough without a hurt ankle, especially with a snapping animal after me. I could drive into the water, but I wasn’t a strong swimmer even when my ankle worked. One of those men would haul me back before I swam fifty meters.

  As if responding to my thought, an old-fashioned boat motor whirred in the distance, a familiar figure at its wheel.

  My entire body sagged with relief. I’d know that man’s lanky outline anywhere.

  The dog stopped barking and began to wag its tail, looking behind the tower. The guards were nearly here.

  I placed my foot onto the top rung of the ladder and leaped over the dog. The rocky sand caught me, but the landing was rough, and I collapsed. The dog was on me in an instant. It snapped at my arm, ripping the sleeve as I tore away.

  “Ray, here!” one of the guards called, and the dog backed off. I didn’t wait. Jumping to my feet, I hobbled for the water. There was another shout as the men realized my intentions, but the yell was quickly swallowed by the waves as I plunged in.

  The salty water immediately clogged my throat, my eyes, my ears. I coughed to clear it from my lungs, but more was ready to replace it. The scratches from that blasted dog’s claws burned. I kept moving forward, the whirr of the boat motor louder than the gentle roar of the waves. Swim.

  My arms moved out of desperation more than anything. Swimming blind, I scrambled toward the sound. Suddenly the motor cut off, and I felt a hand grab the back of my shirt. A grunt, then a second hand reaching gently around my waist. I placed my hands on the side of the boat and kicked to launch myself up.

  Then I was inside, dripping water all over carpet far too nice for a boat.

  Travers shook his head in disbelief. “You’re bloody crazy.”

  “You’re right on time, as always.” I wiped my eyes on my arms, but it didn’t help much. The figures on the beach stood in a huddle, sending the occasional glance my direction. They’d be requesting a boat to follow us. “Shall we go for a ride?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Twenty-Three

  Legacy

  As we rounded the coastline of Old Town and headed for a rougher part of the shore, Travers agreed to send a message to Dad but shook his head about Gram. “She’s fine. I’m taking you to her.”

  I stared at him. “You mean the spies are gone?”

  “I mean she got away.”

  Fates. The relief came with a wave of exhaustion even stronger than my pain, but now I had a dozen questions. “Did you get her out? How did you know to do that? I didn’t even know you owned a boat.”

  “I don’t. This one belongs to your family. You’d be surprised what the Hawkings have stored away. And I didn’t get your grandmother out, exactly. More like the other way around. Your father reassigned me to her after your abrupt departure. Last night, she insisted we go for a drive before dawn and swore me to secrecy. The woman brought along no less than ten blankets.” He chuckled. “By the time we reached the storage warehouse, I had your grandmother’s plan all figured out.”

  It wasn’t until we rounded the rocks into a calmer harbor that I understood. Gram stood there with a smile, a thin jacket pulled tight around her bony frame. Relief nearly doubled me over, and soon I was in her arms, my sprained ankle forgotten.

  “They were going to hurt you,” I whispered against her silver hair.

  She patted my back. “I still have a few tricks in me. Heard them discussing their plans yesterday while they thought I was napping. Palmed my sleeping pill last night and escaped while Carmen snored away on the couch. I bet she woke up very confused.” She pulled away and winked. I just laughed.

  Gram led the way to a cavern I’d never noticed before, her footing sure as anything. She picked her way between the boulders like she’d done this a hundred times. Maybe she had. It was a guilty reminder that I didn’t know as much about her as I assumed. I slipped twice on mud and foam while limping along behind. Travers secured the boat in a hidden cleft of rock and followed.

  A warm glow from deep within the cavern cast haunting shadows of our approach. Soon we reached a small room carved out of rock. The walls were smooth and round, as if formed by the passage of a giant snake. I touched the walls and felt a thin powder on my fingers. A manmade cave?

  But it was more than that, I realized as I looked around. A bedroom, complete with bed, quilt, bed stand, and a pile of books. Real, old-fashioned books. Next to the pile lay our source of light. It wasn’t a lantern but rather some kind of lighted bag with tiny round pellets inside. I’d never seen the likes of it.

  “Can I touch it?” I reverently asked Gram.

  “Of course. One of my last bags. We intended to produce more when we arrived all those decades ago, but the underground settlers couldn’t find the ingredients they needed here. We switched to lanterns until electricity could be generated.”

  She sounded sad. I tried to imagine her as a teenager, a girl with a birthright and a determination to save those who looked to her for salvation. How many people had she lost along the way? How many of her friends remained?

  I touched her arm. “It looks like you’ve spent a lot of time down here.”

  “Vance and I used to come here all the time, especially when the press started following us around. It was the only place we could be alone together without being tracked.”

  I felt my eyes widen. Tracked. “Gram, Virgil will find me here.”

  “No, he won’t. This is a dead spot on the coast. Your signal would have disappeared over ten minutes ago. It’s one reason I built this here—the rocky cliffs form a natural barrier from location sensors. Neither of us had implants, but Vance was always a cautious person. Malachite learned to walk right by that chair.” Her face glowed. “Vance grinned from ear to ear for hours afterward. You’d have thought our son invented flight.”

  I pictured my father as a toddler, struggling to find footing on this dirty and uneven floor, and grinned. “Does Dad know about this place?”

  “I’m sure he has memories of it, but I doubt he even recalls where it is.”

  Hopefully he would get Travers’ message and get himself and Alex to safety. If Kole was right about the Firebrands taking over
the Block, there would be bloodshed. That I knew to be true.

  I glanced at the bag again. “Who were the underground settlers?”

  “Oh, Legacy. I haven’t spent nearly enough time with you. Shame on me.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. No amount of time together would have been enough to fill the hole in my chest that Mom left behind. Now that she and Grandpa Vance were gone, we’d both felt the shift like changes in the wind.

  She laughed at my expression and gestured to a pair of soft chairs in the corner. “Let’s talk. We have some catching up to do.”

  Gram’s story took most of an hour. Travers stood by the entrance of the room like a guard, though he was clearly interested in our conversation. By the time she finished, Travers and I were both staring at her. Their exodus from old NORA and creation of a new society was far more intricate and difficult than I’d imagined, and Travers had experienced it all as a child.

  “Three groups of people,” I muttered. “Underground settlers, the outsiders, and citizens—none of which trusted anyone else. Yet somehow you got them to work together for survival.”

  “The second part was easier than the first,” Gram admitted with a smile. “My eventual marriage to Vance cemented two of those groups, and the third grew to trust me in time. If not for that, we would have fragmented upon our arrival.”

  It felt as if Gram had placed new lenses into my eyes. Everything was so much clearer now—why she’d chosen to avoid implants altogether, why she’d spent so much time at the Copper Office. The reason behind her new system and its freedoms.

  “You never said what you and Dad fought about last year,” I said carefully. “Did you disagree about politics?”

  Some of the light in her eyes faded. “We’ve always disagreed about politics. I would have been concerned if he didn’t. He leads the country now, not me. I created a foundation, and he’s built upon it as he saw fit.”