The Burn Zone

by James K. Decker

  It was weird to see him so young. He’d been handsome, and rugged-looking, with a cocksure expression on his face. I spotted him in some of the other photos, with men I’d never met. It bothered me a little, that familiarity. These were old friends, comrades. I didn’t know who any of them were.

  “Dragan?” the old man wheezed again.

  I knelt next to the bed and felt his forehead.

  “He’s burning up,” I said.

  Vamp had followed me in while Nix stood in the doorway, holding the girl’s hand.

  “How long has he been like this?” I asked her. She just shook her head, holding up both hands.

  “She doesn’t understand you,” Vamp said.

  The girl pointed at the man. “On bolen.”

  I brought up the 3i translator as she kept going.

  “On ochen’ bolen. On budet normal’no?”

  He’s very sick. He will be okay?

  “Where is the boy? The one you came here with?” I asked. I pantomimed, indicating a tall person and two little ones. “Do you know where Alexei is?”

  She perked up at the name a little, but the old man waved his hand.

  “Ne govorite im” he croaked.

  Don’t tell them. The girl looked at him, then back at me. She didn’t say anything else.

  “He is severely dehydrated,” Nix said, gesturing at the old man. “I’ll get him some water.”

  Nix patted the girl on the head as he moved back into the apartment. She looked up at me, tears brimming in her eyes, and I knelt in front of her.

  “It’s okay.” I smoothed her hair behind her ears and smiled as best I could. “Don’t worry, we’re going to get you all out of here.”

  “Ne govorite im,” the man whispered.

  I glanced back at him. “Help is coming, just hold on.”

  Nix came back carrying a wet facecloth. He handed it to me.

  “Careful,” I said to the old man, holding the cloth over his mouth. I squeezed until just a trickle went in. He let out a weak cough, but managed to swallow it. He took me by the wrist, and his hand was so frail that it broke my heart. He pulled for more water, and I squeezed again before letting him suck on the corner.

  “Did Dragan come here?” I asked him. “Dragan Shao?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s okay,” I said, stroking the old man’s hair. “We’ll get you help. You’ll be okay. Was there a boy with him too? Did he bring a boy here?”

  The man shook his head.

  “I know he’s here,” I said. “Why won’t you tell me?”

  He just shook his head again, and fear flashed in his eyes as he glanced at the top of his dresser. I looked back, but couldn’t tell what he’d been looking for. “What? What is it?”

  He turned away. I squeezed some more water for him from the rag, but it just dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

  “Please,” I said. “Where is he?” His eyes rolled.

  “He needs help,” Vamp said. “Call the hospital.”

  I fumbled out my phone and made the call.

  “First Response Medical,” a voice on the phone said. I had opened my mouth to speak when she continued in the same breath. “Please hold.”

  “Damn it,” I muttered.

  The old man choked, a subtle, almost inaudible sound, and then his eyelids drooped.

  “Mister?” I said, giving him a little shake.

  “I think he gave it up,” Vamp said.

  The old man lay limp in the bed, the rag still hanging from his mouth, which had curled into a faint smile. His eyes were unfocused, and his chest wasn’t rising and falling anymore.

  “Hey,” I said. I gave him a gentle shake, but he didn’t move. When I checked his pulse, I didn’t feel anything.

  The phone clicked as the hold music stopped and someone picked up.

  “Sam?” a voice asked over the phone.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I need help.”

  “Your estimated hold time is twelve minutes,” the voice said. “You may as well spend it learning about a cheap, noninvasive procedure that can change your life.”

  “I don’t need to talk to some A.I. salesbot,” I snapped. “I need help!”

  “I can help you,” the A.I. said. “Believe me, substandard breast size is something a lot of young women live with, but the good news is that you don’t have to.”

  “Damn it, I—”

  “Sam, he’s dead,” Vamp said.

  I hung up.

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “There’s no other kid here, Sam.”

  “He’s got to be.”

  “This place has four rooms. He’s not in any of them. He’s got to be somewhere else.”

  “He brought him here.”

  “Sam—”

  I pushed past him and moved to the dresser. The top was covered with little pictures in frames, printed article snippets, and loose change. Lying on top of a cash card was a little remote with a single button on it. I picked it up.

  “What’s that?” Vamp asked.

  I pushed the button. Nothing happened. I pushed it again, but I didn’t hear or see anything respond to it.

  “That could be to anything,” Vamp said. “We can’t stay here.”

  Right then, Alexei’s 3i icon lit up pink.

  Sam?

  “Hold up, he’s back on,” I said.

  I’m here. I’m at the place they took you. Where are you?

  Metal room.

  I thought for a minute, and then pushed the button on the remote again.

  Did something happen just then? I asked.

  Bell went off.

  I smiled. What does the bell mean?

  They’re coming. Move away from the wall.

  “He’s here,” I said. “He said the remote rings a bell, to signal they’re coming. He’s got to be somewhere close.”

  Alexei, when they moved you to the room where you are now, how did you get there?

  Kitchen door.

  I headed back out into the living room and crossed past the sofa where the flies were still swarming over the blanket. The girl was standing next to it, and I took her hand as I headed into the tiny kitchen to look around. There was a cupboard under the sink, and inside I could hear a buzzing sound.

  The girl cringed as I opened it, and immediately caught a blast of rot stink that made me gag. There was a big plastic trash bucket under the sink, lines of blackish red drying to the sides. Inside was what looked like a big, wrinkled mess of skin and blood that was covered in scaleflies. Some kind of papery material with a dangling, blood-soaked tie hung from the bucket’s edge.

  With my face turned away, I kicked the door shut.

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “Never mind that.”

  Nix guided her away from the cupboard and I crossed the kitchen to a closet door next to the little half fridge. I pulled it open, but it was empty except for a big cardboard box on the floor.

  Alexei, can you hear me?

  No.

  I banged on the inside walls of the closet with my fist.

  Can you hear that?

  No.

  “Damn it.”

  The box inside the closet was empty. I picked it up and tossed it behind me onto the floor but saw nothing else in there except wood backing and floor. No secret door or hatch.

  “Where could he be?” I hissed. There was nowhere else in the room he could have gone. There wasn’t even a window, just...

  With the box out of the way, I noticed something hanging just on the inside wall from a thin loop of wire. It was a black twistkey.

  “Here.”

  I knelt down, snatching the key off the hook and then feeling around inside the pantry. The rear of it had a square metal frame, big enough to crawl through. It was just a frame, butted against the back wall, but there was a socket fixed to the bottom right corner of it.

  I slotted the twistkey into the socket and turned it. A hum sounded, and my hair began to stand on end as a white point of ligh
t appeared in the middle of the frame, then expanded to fill it. The back wall of the pantry disappeared, and I was looking into another room with a metal floor and metal walls. Alexei hadn’t heard us because he wasn’t in the apartment. He was somewhere else, somewhere even the GPS couldn’t zero in on, completely isolated in some kind of storage tank.

  “A black hole,” Vamp said, looking down over my shoulder.

  “Huh?”

  “Smugglers use them to hide contraband. The actual location is masked, usually somewhere outside the government’s jurisdiction, just in case.”

  The room was lit, and I could see an air canister leaned against one corner next to an electric lantern. The floor was littered with ration wrappers and empty water bottles. In the other corner was a bucket, the inside stained with brown specks.

  “Kid?” I called.

  I poked my head in and saw him off to my left, huddled in the corner of the metal cube. His wide, teary eyes stared back at me from through thick, greasy black hair. It was definitely him, the kid from the recording. Why would Dragan put him in a place like this?

  “Alexei?” I called. The kid just stared. “That’s your name, right? Alexei?”

  He couldn’t understand me, I don’t think, but he heard his name and nodded, quick, jerky movements. He sat with his knees hugged to his chest. Looped around his left arm was an elastic band, and hanging from it was a metallic blue twistkey.

  “It’s okay,” I told him, holding out one hand. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

  He glanced at my hand, then back up at me. He scratched at a raw red patch on one forearm where tiny beads of blood had formed.

  “You can’t understand me,” I whispered. “That’s okay. You’re okay. Come on out.”

  “Just grab him,” Vamp said from behind me.

  “Shut it,” I snapped back over my shoulder. Alexei cringed a little, and it took me a minute for him to calm down again.

  “You know Dragan?” I asked him. That got a response. His face changed, and he nodded.

  “Dragan?” he asked, scratching at his arm again. I pointed to my face with my index finger.

  “Sam,” I said.

  He paused, and then nodded again.

  “Good. Okay.” I pointed at the twistkey around his arm. “Can I see that?”

  He glanced down at the key, then back at me.

  Can I see that? I sent over the 3i.

  “Careful,” Vamp said, “he could still have the weapon.”

  Alexei, where is the weapon? I asked.

  He shook his head, confused. What weapon?

  They gave you something, something dangerous.

  He shook his head again.

  “He says he doesn’t have it.”

  “Maybe he swallowed it,” Vamp said. “Or they implanted it, and he doesn’t know.”

  “Maybe,” I said. That would explain why Dragan had put the kid himself in there, and not just the weapon. “Nix, your tablet, where does it lead to?”

  “The storage area is inside a sealed cell located inside the ship’s—”

  “So behind the force field?”

  “Yes.”

  “If we could drop the weapon in, would that contain it? The flies can’t hurt you guys and they couldn’t get out, right?”

  He thought for a minute. “Yes.”

  “Okay,” I said to the kid. “Okay, come on out. Can I have the key?” I pointed at it again.

  “Dragan govorit chtoby nepoterjaf ego,” he said.

  Please? I sent over the 3i.

  Dragan said don’t lose it.

  I won’t lose it. I just want to see.

  I reached out toward him slowly. He hesitated, glancing over my shoulder at Vamp.

  It was a smart move giving it to you, I sent. Thanks for keeping it safe. Dragan said you should give it to me now.

  He looked unsure, but he held the key out and placed it in my hand. When I curled my fingers around it, he let it go.

  “Bingo,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Should I call security?” Vamp asked.

  “No, let’s search him first. Besides, I want to wait until we’re the hell out of here. I don’t want them tracking us.”

  They killed her, he sent.

  When I looked back to him, he suddenly looked so lost, so pathetic, that I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Whoever the kid was, he wasn’t some terrorist come to attack us, or anyone else. He was just some kid they grabbed off the street, a patsy who was supposed to go home and never know it was him who wiped out all of his people.

  I know.

  He didn’t cry, but I could see that was because he was cried out. I remembered the footage on Dragan’s wet drive, how the woman’s head had sprayed across the floor, and remembered that was the boy’s mother.

  I know. I’m sorry. I sighed. Look, I’m sorry it has to play out like this, okay? I know this isn’t your fault.

  Don’t kill us, he said. His eyes looked hollow, and way too old to belong to such a little boy. Please. Don’t burn us.

  No one is going to kill you. It’s okay.

  I heard them. The invaders are going to make you attack us, to kill us all. Please don’t. Please.

  I rubbed my eyes. “Goddamn it.”

  They were the ones attacking us. Where did this kid get off laying this on me? All those threats, all the troop buildups and suicide bombers. They attacked us, all the time. They were the ones that started this whole thing.

  Please. Please don’t.

  The kid was maybe eight, though, ten tops. He didn’t know about any of that. None of it was his fault.

  We want to help you, he said.

  Help us?

  Everyone just wants to help you. Please don’t kill my family, don’t kill my friends, please don’t, please.

  I chewed my lip. They won’t hurt you. Look, just give me the weapon. We’ll get rid of it and nobody gets burned, okay? They won’t hurt you.

  He shook his head. I don’t have it.

  It could be small. You might not know you have it.

  He shook his head again. Could it be he didn’t have it at all? That Dragan got him out of Shiliuyuán Station before it was ever planted on him? It was tempting to believe, but I wasn’t feeling that lucky.

  “Come on,” I said, gesturing for him to come out of the room. “Come on out. Let’s have a look at you.”

  He still looked unsure, but he moved, a little. When I reached for him again, he didn’t back away.

  “You can trust me,” I said. “Come on out.”

  He crept out through the gate and into the light of the kitchenette where I could see more raw patches on his arms. He began digging at one of the spots again, smearing blood.

  “Stop that,” I said, taking his wrist. “Come on, stop.”

  “Sam, you’ve got the key,” Vamp said. “What are you doing?”

  “I just want to see if he has it.”

  Nix moved closer to him and held out his tablet. The field was closed, and the silvery front panel had changed to a view screen. When he passed the tablet in front of Alexei, I could see his skeleton on the screen along with buttons, zippers ... and that was it. Nix moved the tablet slowly, scanning him top to bottom. There was nothing in any of his pockets.

  “He might have ditched it,” Vamp said.

  I shook my head. “No, Dragan put him in there to isolate him. He must have it on him. Nix, check his stomach.”

  He did, but there was nothing there. It wasn’t until he moved the tablet past one of his arms that I caught a flash, and grabbed Nix’s wrist to stop him.

  “Wait,” I said. “There.”

  Nix zoomed in on one of the raw patches of skin where a series of dark spots were scattered like buckshot. They were all down the boy’s arms and covered his back. Nix focused the view on one of them and zoomed in even closer.