The Burn Zone

by James K. Decker

  The camera moved, focusing on the lit face of a console that fanned out at the edge of the pit. An image of the fluke mouth, each ring of beds called out, traveled down the left side of the main screen. It focused on the information displayed next to each bed, printed out in varying shades of faint, deep purple, rows and rows of haan symbols that I couldn’t decipher.

  Suddenly something moved in front of the camera, blotting out the scene, and I jumped in the train seat. The frame reeled and I saw Dragan lift a pistol into frame as he backed away, signaling for the woman to run. The door to the room with the bodies in it opened the rest of the way.

  “Go!” he shouted.

  The frame turned and became chaotic. I saw Dragan grab someone from the closest bed on the top ring of the fluke mouth, a little girl with scrawny arms and legs. Tubes and electrode wires stretched taut, then broke free as he dragged her from the sweaty sheets and hauled her up into his arms.

  “Run!” he yelled. The woman ran, hauling the boy along after her. She pushed open a door and went through, tracing her route back the way she’d come when at the junction she stopped, unsure. She started to go one way, and then Dragan grabbed her wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction. As the camera swept by the hallway they’d come from, I saw the door at the opposite end bang open, where saucer-shaped eyes glowed in the dark like embers.

  The image began moving so wildly I couldn’t make anything out. At some point the flashlight came back on, the beam flashing in and out of frame. He was running, looking back over his shoulder down the abandoned corridor as he went.

  He turned back just in time to see the woman stop short in front of him, like she’d snagged at the end of an invisible leash. The boy stumbled forward, falling onto the floor as his hand slipped from hers. She screamed as something I couldn’t see yanked her off her feet and she soared through the air back past Dragan.

  His eyes followed her as she went crashing down onto the dirty-tiled floor farther down the hall. He had started back when a looming shape rose behind the woman, and her shirt was suddenly ripped open to reveal the bare skin underneath.

  “Dragan!” she screamed. “Pomogite mne! Pozhalujsta pomogite mne!”

  The Pan-Slav words turned into a shriek that made my blood run cold as her pant legs began to deflate, the legs inside them dissolving away into nothing.

  Help me, the Web translator printed. Please, help me.

  Dragan’s gun moved into frame, but before he could fire the boy moved past him and he stopped to quickly grab his shirt from behind, dragging him back as he wailed.

  “Mama!”

  The woman’s sneakers flopped over at odd angles as her waistband relaxed and then wrinkled. Her belly and ribs began to disappear, emptying her chest cavity. She pawed weakly in front of her for a second, and then something slammed down on top of her like an invisible sledgehammer. I saw an explosion of blood ... the torn edge of her severed wrist, and beyond that, the remains of half her head scattered along after it.

  The view spun around again as Dragan turned, picked up the little girl, and ran, dragging Alexei along after him. He took them toward a door at the far end of the hall, then shoved it open.

  For a long stretch, I couldn’t make anything out at all, and then they were in a room, facing a bare concrete wall. In front of it was the empty doorframe of an inactive gate.

  Dragan jammed a twistkey into the gate’s socket, but not his military-issued one. This one was made of polished blue metal, and when he turned it the gate field flickered open.

  The view jostled around then, sweeping across brick face and blacktop. He was back outside, in the open air. The streets were paved and filled with traffic. Neon light flashed the length of the strip along either side, and I saw a row of vendor kiosks lining the sidewalk. A couple of them had stands set up with hanging jiangshi masks and red street dye.

  He’s here, in Hangfei.

  Dragan started speaking to the boy rapid-fire in Pan-Slav tongue, while the 3i’s translation spat out beneath the feed.

  “Alexei,” Dragan said. He looked down at the boy’s ashen face. His eyes were swimming, like he was about to lose it. “Alexei, listen to me. I’m going to take you someplace safe. Do you trust me?”

  Alexei didn’t answer. Dragan shook him, gently. “Alexei, do you trust me? “

  The boy made eye contact and nodded, slowly.

  “I’m giving you this,” Dragan said. He handed him the metallic blue twistkey, the one that accessed wherever it was they’d just come from. Alexei reached out and Dragan slipped the elastic band around his arm so that it dangled near his elbow. “Keep it safe for me. I’m going to take you someplace safe. Then I have to take care of a few things, but I’ll be back for you. I will find help for you. I promise I’ll be back for you—”

  The feed cut out, and the screen went black. I shut down the player and turned to stare out the window.

  Suddenly I felt a jab of pain deep down in my gut that bent me over in my seat. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and I clutched at the area just over my crotch, but it was over as fast as it started.

  What the hell was that?

  I hooked my thumb in the waistline of my pants and pulled so I could see all the way down. There was no mark, or bruise or anything. Just the purplish symmetrical spay scars that had been there since puberty.

  “You’re okay,” I told myself, letting the waistband snap back. I glanced over and saw the guy sitting next to me still staring down at my crotch wistfully.

  “Show’s over,” I said. He looked away.

  The maglev plunged back into the city and a wall of buildings began streaking past outside the window. With a huff of air, it turned black as we dove into a tunnel. Lights along the tunnel wall began to whip past, forming an electric blue streak.

  I felt myself pulled forward by inertia as the train decelerated quickly. Outside the window the wall of the tunnel huffed away and lights from the platform streamed in. A row of waiting commuters began whipping past, slowing as the train approached the platform. We came to a stop, and the doors opened.

  Where was I? I looked around and spotted a sign for Zhenzhuhe Terminal. I was in the Central Hub. Another good place to get lost.

  The haan who’d been standing in front of me stepped back to let me go ahead of him. I stood up, still shaky, and pushed into the line of bodies, following them as they shuffled toward the doors and onto the platform. When I looked back to wave to the haan, his back was turned and he was moving toward the opposite end of the car. I caught the reflection of his eyes in the window and something else, a movement I couldn’t explain. Something writhed, out of sync with the figure next to it.

  “Move it, sister,” the guy behind me muttered.

  I rubbed my eyes and left the train.

  ~ * ~

  Chapter Eight

  19:14:19 BC

  I made my way across the station, following a stream of foot traffic over one of the glass skyways. Below us, rows of people glided along the system of moving walkways in every direction, while free-roaming mobs bustled through the open central space. I took the first set of stairs down onto the floor and stepped out into a blanket roar of conversation that echoed under the station’s huge dome. Being in the midst of the crowd relaxed me a little. I was invisible there, just one of the faceless thousands.

  I used the 3i to look up the best route to the Row, which I’d decided would be my next stop. As I followed the color-coded path it laid over the station in front of me, Vamp’s heart popped up in the corner of my eye to let me know he’d left a message.

  What happened to “an hour”? Check your mail. Turn chat back on.

  I hopped a moving walkway and people brushed past me while I leaned on the rail to check my phone. There was a message in my in-bin from Vamp, with a stack of eyebot logs attached.

  It’s not complete yet, but I found Dragan’s ID last night. Let me know what you want to do.

  “Score.”

  I opened
the file and it expanded to show a section of the satellite map. Vamp had isolated two trails, partial routes where Dragan’s transponder ID had been spotted. One of them started at our apartment where he’d been seen going in. It only went back a few blocks before it lost track of him, but it looked like he’d come from somewhere downtown. The second trail started at the Pink Bull Hotel, then headed east several blocks before going cold.

  He was using the jump gates, I thought. He could have been spotted somewhere else along his route, and Vamp just hadn’t zeroed in on it yet. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It was a start.

  You’re the best, Vamp, I sent. Find him, please. I’m sending you something. You have to keep it quiet, though.

  I packaged up the recording from Dragan’s wet drive and sent it to Vamp along with a message:

  Do not show this to anyone else. I’m heading to Wei’s hotel in the Row to lie low. Meet me there. We’ll talk then.

  Check. I’m on my way.

  “... transport A13 to Hăiyáng-Gāodù is now boarding at gate fifteen,” a voice chimed over the intercom, chatter leaking in from the jump port terminal. “Transport D45 is now queued for passage through gate nine from Zhenzhuhe to Tùzi-wō. Transport B74 to Duongroi is now boarding at gate twenty-seven…”

  My phone buzzed in my hand as a call came through. It was Kang.

  “Mr. Kang, I’m sorry I missed your call. I was—”

  “It’s okay, I heard. They’re gunning for you, Sam.”

  “I noticed.” Two teenagers muscled by, one of them clipping me with the duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Watch it, ass!” I called after him.

  “What?” Kang asked.

  “Not you. Sorry.”

  “Look, you’re not going to like what I have to tell you,” he said.

  “He’s not dead,” I said. “He—”

  “I know,” Kang said quickly.

  “Because he—”

  “He’s not dead, Sam. They still need him. He’s alive, at least for now.”

  I realized then that, in spite of what I’d been saying, there was part of me that was pretty sure I’d lost him. Relief welled up, and I blurted out a sharp laugh.

  “Oh, thank God,” I whispered, putting one hand over my mouth.

  “Sam, it’s still not good.” Kang said soberly. “They beat him bad, and word is he still hasn’t come to. Even if he does wake up, he’s facing a treason charge. There’s a good chance he could be executed.”

  “He’s not a traitor.” Someone on the walkway glanced over at me. “Just... tell me, is there any chance he’ll be okay? How bad is it?”

  “Bad, but he’s alive. That’s a start. I’m going to see what I can do, okay?”

  “Thank you,” I said. I let the relief bubble up a little more, and a smile broke over my face. “Mr. Kang, thank you, thank you so much…”

  “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Just drop this now. You’re already in it up to your neck.”

  “That’s why I can’t drop it.”

  “Sam, you have to. I’m going to see about getting this bullshit cannibalism bounty shut down, so in the meantime just lie low. Let me look into this, and don’t get any more involved than you already are.”

  “I can’t just—”

  “What would really help is if I could give them the boy and the woman he brought over. If I had them, it would go a long way.”

  I opened my mouth to tell Kang about the lead from the eyebot logs, but I couldn’t really share that with him without getting Vamp in serious trouble and it didn’t really give anything to go on yet anyway. I knew from Dragan’s wet drive recording that Innuya was dead and Alexei was in Hangfei, but I couldn’t tell him that without explaining how I knew.

  “If anyone finds this message, it is critical that you deliver it to Military Governor Jianguo Hwong immediately. Do not hand it over to security, only to him.”

  Kang paused on the other end of the line. “Do you know something, Sam?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “Believe me, I’ll tell you if I do.”

  He paused again, but let it go. “When you land somewhere, don’t tell anyone else where you are. Call me and I’ll come meet you.”

  I nodded. “Fine. Okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  He hung up, and I put the phone away.

  Dragan was alive. It sounded like things were far from over, but he was still alive and so there was still hope. If I could just—

  I staggered as another sharp pain dug deep into my gut. A man plowed into me and I had to grab the rail to keep from bowling us both over.

  “Hey!” someone barked from back behind me.

  “Move it,” the man said, pushing past me as I tried to stand upright again and another sharp pain bent me back over. I held on to the moving rail with one hand as I felt a drop of sweat roll down my face. Another body pushed past me, and then another as my legs threatened to give out underneath me.

  Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Up ahead I saw a spot to jump off the walkway, and when it came I took it. I shoved my way out of the crowd, leaving behind a wake of angry curses.

  “Watch it, bitch!” someone spat after me, but I barely heard him. I scanned the rows of tunnel shops and kiosks across the slow-moving current of people ahead until I spotted a sign for a public restroom. Forcing myself to stand up straight, I made a beeline for it.

  At the entrance I veered left toward the women’s room. I pushed open the door and blundered down the narrow row of toilet stalls along the left-hand wall and sinks with steri-gel dispensers along the right. A few women stood in front of the mirrors primping, and their eyes followed me as I made for the closest open stall door. Once inside I pushed it shut and latched it, plopping down on top of the toilet with my pants still up.

  “You’re okay,” I told myself, sweat trickling down my face and neck. “You’re okay....”

  I was starting to wonder if maybe it wasn’t the double cross I’d taken from Eng. Was it laced with something maybe? Or maybe the scalefly ration was bad, or—

  “The delivery system for this weapon is the haan scalefly....”

  I’d been bitten by one of the scalefiies that had been hovering around the haan soldier in Eng’s hotel room. Could I be sick? It sounded like the weapon hadn’t been released yet, but something happened back there. The vision I’d had happened right after it bit me…The pain stopped, leaving behind a phantom ache that lasted several seconds before my brain registered the relief. My stomach unclenched, and the sick feeling went away. The sweat cooled and began to dry on my face, and I used a fistful of toilet paper to dab it dry.

  “What’s wrong with me?” I whispered, my voice reverberating louder than I intended in the cramped room.

  “Are you okay?” one of the women at the sinks asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks.”

  Through the crack I could see her, a woman in a business suit with neat, sculpted hair and pretty, angular features. Her eyes watched back from the mirror, trying to make me out through the narrow gap of the stall door.

  I leaned back and noticed a chat notification flashing in the 3i’s tray. I locked on to the icon and flicked my eyes upward, popping the window out in front of me.

  Kmo-mo ecmb?

  I didn’t recognize the weird characters, and figured some foreign spam had tricked the junk filter. I was just about to delete and block it when I spotted the contact name.

  Alexei Drugov.

  “Shit,” I whispered. His icon had turned pink, the little heart beating. The little shit was alive.

  Пожалуϋcma, omвemьme мнe.

  Alexei, I can’t understand you. Where are you?

  A pause, then:

  Я вac нe noнuмaю. Βьι мoжeme нanucamь, noэmomy я mosy noняmь?

  Alexei, hang on. Let me get a translator.

&nb
sp; The icon went gray.

  “Damn it.”

  I found a translator link and piped the conversation through to see what he’d said.

  Is someone there?

  Please, answer me.

  I don’t understand you. Can you write so I can understand?

  Wherever Dragan had ditched him, he was still there, then. His mother was dead, but he was somewhere in Hangfei. Where?

  I pulled up the message details, and checked the location.