Van tried to pull herself above the water again, but they were moving too fast. She was pretty sure she’d dislocated her arm. Struggling for her next breath, Van opened her eyes.
A flash of light.
The lift thudded against the wall of the tunnel, shifting it so they were floating down the stream sideways.
Kip’s hand found hers. He pulled her upward. As soon as her face met the cool air, she filled her lungs.
Somehow, a hole had been ripped in the side of the tunnel. Kip tucked a small satchel into his pocket as they floated through the dark doorway. As they crossed the threshold, Van’s heart leapt into her throat. Their makeshift boat plummeted.
They landed on the hard ground. Van’s mechanical leg took the brunt of the collision. She ground her teeth at the pain, but it was nothing compared to the relief of escaping a stormy sea.
Water splashed on the ground next to her, sending small droplets over her face. “Where are we?” Van coughed, pushing herself up.
She released her death-grip on the side of the lifter, her fingers cramped and sore from the abuse. Water still roared through the other tunnel, but the waterfall that poured around them was manageable. The hole had been just far enough below the waterline to allow them entry, but not enough to redirect the full current.
“An access tunnel. It runs along the main one. It’s just used for clogs or during an emergency purge. Lucky, huh?”
“Yeah sure, but how did we get in here?” Van asked impatiently. She touched her shoulder and winced.
It was definitely dislocated.
Van gripped her arm, lining up her shoulder perfectly. She turned towards the pallet lifter, took a deep breath and then slammed her shoulder into the side of the lifter with as much force as she could conjure.
A pained whine escaped through her clenched teeth. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to relocate her shoulder and it wouldn’t be the last, but damn did she hate having to do it.
As soon as the joint popped back into place, a wash of relief flooded her. Her arm was still sore but at least now she could use it if she needed to. She adjusted her clothes and tried to shake off some of the water.
Kip gawked at her, his mouth slightly ajar. “Cool. Do it again.”
When Van glared at him, he shrugged. “To answer your question, I blew an opening.” He walked to the side of the lift and worked on the rope that held Molly in her restraints.
Van sawed her jaw back and forth. “Wait, what? You could have gotten us out any time, and you chose to hold on to that little trick for what? A rainy day?”
“No.” Kip raised his hands in defense. “I needed to wait for an access hatch. My knockers are good, but these tunnels are strong. That was our only shot.”
Van stood and took a deep breath through her nose. She held it for a moment before slowly letting the air leave her lungs. With her eyes closed, Van rolled her neck, working out the kinks. “I’ll get you for that one later.”
“Huh?” Kip asked, his brow furrowing.
“I’ll kick your ass for letting me almost drown later.”
Kip shrugged. “Oh, ok then. Can we finish this stuff first?”
Van smiled. The kid had guts, she’d give him that.
Kip grabbed the rope wrapped around the bag that held Molly. He tried to move her, but she was fighting him hard. Molly caught him with a lucky swat, knocking Kip to his butt.
Van sighed. “Hang on.” She grabbed the bag and pulled Molly onto the ground. Her body thudded on the metal surface of the pipe, the hit stunning her for a moment. Van propped Molly against the side of the pallet lifter.
Retrieving his heat gun, Kip positioned himself a few feet away.
“You sure this thing will work?” Van asked.
Kip didn’t answer. His face turned down and his uncertain gaze shot around the tunnel. He didn’t know. How could he? They hadn’t had a chance to test this thing on a living Dweller and who knew if Molly could even be saved?
Van put her hand on his shoulder. “If this goes bad, I’ll honor my brother’s promise and take care of it.”
Kip nodded and looked back at Molly. She had begun to shift and turn in the sack. It was now or never.
Kip pulled the trigger.
The specialized armament whirred to life but, without a flash or projectile, the gun was fairly anticlimactic. Until Molly began to shout and thrash.
Van readied herself to do what had to be done. She couldn’t hear over the sound of her own pulse banging around in her head. Her hands started to shake. Frustrated, she gripped one hand with the other and squeezed hard. I need to move forward. Stop looking at the past. I’m still the warrior I’ve always been.
With a horrific scream, the bag fell limp. The smell of burning fabric filled the air. Smoke plumed out of the bag, filling the confined space. Since the bag was soaking wet, it didn't catch fire. But, eventually, the water would dry out.
Kip lowered the gun.
As Van took a step towards the bag, it finally caught.
She tried to grab the sack, but the heat pushed her away. Kip grabbed the top of the bag, but Van knocked him back.
“You don’t know. She could still infect you. Then we’re all screwed,” Van scolded.
“We need to get her out.”
Molly shrieked inside the burning bag and Van kicked it with her prosthetic leg. When Molly rolled onto her side, Van rolled her into the path of the water that still flowed from the hole in the pipe above them.
Adjusting her stance, she swept her leg and the blade in her prosthetic sliced the top of the sack open. Steam billowed from inside the confined space as Van grabbed the sack and yanked it away.
Molly tumbled into a puddle. Stopping on her back, her eyes closed and, for the first time all day, she seemed peaceful.
The burlap bag continued to smolder as Van slowly made her way over to Molly. She held her hand out to Kip to keep him at a safe distance.
“Is she...?” Kip asked, his eyes wide.
Van watched the young Dweller. Her chest rose and fell with slow, shallow breaths. “She’s alive.” It was all she could say. She didn’t know if Molly was still dangerous. Van crept over to the child, waiting to see what she would do.
After a few tense minutes, Molly coughed, water spewing from her mouth. She let out a soft groan and slowly opened her eyes. The rusted hatred in her gaze was gone. Her eyes were back to their child-like innocence.
Molly blinked several times as if waking from a deep sleep. “What? Where am I?”
“You’re in the sewers,” Kip replied, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Gross.”
It was obvious that the battle and ensuing joyride had taken a toll on the young Dweller. The muscles in her face turned down, and her eyes were droopy and filled with sleep. Molly slowly rolled onto her side, groaning like an old woman as she pushed herself to a seated position.
Kip took a step towards her, but Van waved him off again. She needed to make sure it wasn’t a trap.
“Kipper. Did it work?” Molly asked. “Did I get sick? Did you cure me?” Her words were slurred together, sleep trying to gain control of her.
“I… Well, yeah.”
Molly’s eyes widened, understanding showing on her face. She pushed herself to her feet, life rushing back to her. She charged at Kip. Van jumped, but Molly was already on top of him, squeezing until a small squeak escaped his lips.
Kip patted Molly’s back, a wide smile spreading across his face.
“I knew you always loved me, Kip. I just knew it,” Molly said into Kip’s shoulder.
Van stifled a laugh.
“You know,” Kip began, trying to draw a breath, “Van helped too. In fact, she’s really the one that caught and saved you.”
Before Van could argue, Molly had released Kip and rushed Van, burying herself in Van’s chest. The force of the hit sent the Grinder stumbling back a few steps.
“I’m sorry for being so mean to you. Thank you fo
r saving me,” Molly cooed, her voice hitching.
Van smiled. She let out a sigh and wrapped her arms around the child. She’d done it. She’d pushed forward past her fear and saved Molly.
It was a nice reprieve to just have one moment of calm and silence. Even back home, with the police on their asses and other gangs fighting over turf, there was always a moment to chill.
“Where’s everyone else?” Molly asked. “Where’s your brother?”
Van shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor. She was furious that he did what he did. Why the hell would he sacrifice himself? They had the drop on the room. They could have taken them. Was he going soft? Was he even still alive? Her mind buzzed with questions, her face souring as she thought about what she should say.
“We’re figuring that out,” Kip offered.
Van composed herself, sucking in a much-needed breath. “Yeah, a lot has happened since you went dark.”
“What do you mean?” Molly turned to address Kip.
“Punch line is,” Van started, “my brother’s gone, there’s some crazy person running the show, and a bunch of bad guys are carrying around a couple giant tanks of the virus that are more than certainly meant for the city. Did I miss anything?”
This wasn’t the time for drawn-out dramatics. They had to get their butts back in the game before that virus made its way into the major cities of the World Machine. She had no idea what their timetable was, so getting in the game as quick as possible was the only good bet they had. The quicker they did that, the faster she could look for Maza.
Kip shrugged. “Nope. That’s basically it.”
“Well...” Molly started, looking around the tunnel. “We can start on that any time.”
Van smirked. Here was a child, just cured from some crazy illness, clothes burnt and tarnished, soaked, nearly dead, and she just wanted to get back to it. Molly sort of reminded Van of Ypsilon. At the thought of Ypsilon, a flush of anger warmed her cheeks. She understood why Ypsilon had put Van on the sidelines, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. With everything that happened in the last few hours, she’d more than proven she was still a warrior. And as soon as she saw Ypsilon, Van was going to demonstrate just how wrong the chief had been.
The water had lowered to a trickle and hardly any made its way through the gap Kip had blown open. They had no reason to stay where they were, and all the more reason to press onward.
“Where does this tunnel go, anyway?" Van asked.
“It runs under the city,” Molly answered. “This is one of the main veins for this sector. It goes to the docks on the other side of the city.”
Molly seemed to be coming back to herself much quicker than Van expected, which would come in handy when things got rough.
“How do you know that?” Van asked.
Molly shrugged. “Oh, I like to come down here sometimes.”
Van scrutinized the girl.
“Okay, I also know because my dad is the chief of the watch and this spits out at the military shipyard. Sometimes I like to sneak out and follow the tunnels into the city.”
“Military shipyard?” Kip asked. “What could they want with the shipyard? Do you think they could be trying to infect the watch?”
“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Van shrugged. “Either way, they’re toting a huge problem with them and we need to get going. Molly, are there any other surprises down here we need to know about?”
“Nope.” Molly shrugged. “Besides, I think the water would’ve cleared everything out anyway.”
21|Family Ties
Ypsilon ran her tongue along the roof of her mouth. The metallic taste reminded her of getting popped in the jaw. Saliva filled her mouth. As the world around her came back into focus, she spit the mixture of blood and saliva, the wad running down her cheek before splattering onto the hard ground next to her.
Her entire body throbbed; her head pounded like her brain was trying to escape her bad decisions. The last thing she remembered was trying to save Adal and Arija, then a giant metal foot flying at her face. “This is what you get for trying to be a good person,” Ypsilon groaned, her sore jaw complaining at the sudden movement.
She opened her eyes. The world faded back into focus. But everything looked wrong. Things didn’t seem the way she knew they should be.
She picked up her head, causing a bright blue dreadlock to slap her in the face. Her mind struggled to put what she was seeing into perspective. Her head pounded, her face flushed and yet, somehow, her nose felt like it had fallen asleep.
She jerked her hand up to touch her face, but her arm didn’t move. Blinking, she looked up. The hard metal surface of the ground hung a few feet above her head. That didn’t make sense. How could the ground be above her head? Her brain pounded, trying to tell her what she should already know. She looked down; her hands were tied at her waist.
She tried to wiggle her fingers, but they felt cold. Numb.
Ypsilon shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the cobwebs that had taken hold of her logic. Her head felt impossibly heavy. The only way the ground could be above her was if she were upside down. As her mind started to piece together what had happed, Ypsilon realized she was screwed.
“Well, at least the day couldn’t get much worse,” she reasoned. She was upside down, bound, bleeding, she had a pounding migraine, and it wasn’t even her birthday. “If it isn’t one thing with this place, it’s another.”
Tilting her head, Ypsilon tried to figure out where she was and what had happened. From what she could tell, she was suspended from a set of pillars in what felt like a steel cocoon. Thin metal threads wrapped around her chest and legs, squeezing her tightly and cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She swayed slightly and the cocoon rotated, but all she could see was steel beams and a wall.
Shadows shifted on either side of her.
She wasn’t alone.
“Listen, I’m not one for all this dramatic shit,” Ypsilon yelled, her voice hoarse. “If you want to talk, then let’s talk. Otherwise, either kill me or let me go so I can kill you.”
The slow spin of her cocoon was starting to get under her skin, making her dizzy and messing with her vision.
Thrashing, Ypsilon managed to cycle a full rotation. Mechanical insects crawled and shifted across beams and wires. A group of spiders spun a wire web between two beams, a Geartha shoveled something in its mouth, and what looked like a large beetle seemed to be taking a nap near a pillar.
As she spun a second time, Ypsilon noticed what looked like a work bench and several large tubs of liquid.
Below her were an assortment of machines, tanks, and cages. Components and parts littered workbenches and scattered across the ground. This place couldn’t be more of a villain’s lair if it had an overly dramatic man dressed in all black petting a cat.
“The family resemblance is incredible,” Pajak’s voice echoed off the metal beams. “If only your father took more after his brother, we could all have ruled this world together. As a family.”
Ypsilon rolled her eyes. Cue the evil mastermind, minus the cat. “Ugh. Not you again.”
Pajak crawled across the beam above her head, using his eight long legs to lower himself to the platform below her. “What a rotten thing to say to your uncle.”
He made his way directly beneath where Ypsilon hung. Looking up at her, Pajak let a wide grin spread across his face. He waved one hand and, after a few seconds, Ypsilon slowly began to lower to the ground.
“You know, if only we would stop meeting like this. The fly in my spider web is not a good look for you, my dear.”
Ypsilon snorted. “Funny. I was just thinking that my foot up your ass would be a great look for me.”
The wire bounced taut and she stopped eye-level with Pajak. In the darkness, his deep, black eyes watched her, trying to figure her out. To her surprise, there wasn’t hate in those eyes. No malice, no disapproval, not even fear. For the first time, someone was looking at her like an e
qual.
“Such disdain for me,” Pajak finally said. “I wonder what I may have done to deserve your hate. Powerful and passionate, you are truly something to behold. I’m honored to have such a strong response from you. I think you greatly underestimate what we could accomplish together.”
He poked Ypsilon on the nose and began to walk in a circle around her, his long arachnid legs clinking against the metal surface of the platform. What she wouldn’t give to hop down and break each one of his legs.
“So, is this where you interrogate me and try and convince me you’re right. That I need to be on your team, blah blah blah?”
“Far from it.” Pajak let out a surprised laugh, stepping out of her line of sight. “In fact, I was going to ask you why you don't let all that rage and discontent free?”
Ypsilon opened her mouth, a smart-ass comment already loaded. But something about what he said intrigued her. Instead she said, “Huh. So, I guess if you let me free, I can do all the bad girl stuff I wanna, huh?”
Pajak stepped back to his spot underneath her and shook his head. Behind him, an Umar marched along several girders with a swarm of smaller bugs on its back. All this movement had to be for a reason. Something was going down.
“Well, actually, yes. That was essentially the plan,” Pajak said with a confident swagger. “Why does that seem so unbelievable to you? Have you not noticed the way I conduct myself? I don’t bother to hide my intentions. Now, you think you know some facts about your history, but ask yourself, are we really that different, you and I?”
Ypsilon didn’t have a retort. Instead, she scrutinized him, looking for the lie she knew must be there. From his annoyingly confident posture to his pompous smile to his overly shiny silver skin, everything made her want to kick the crap out of him. Maybe that was his point. Or maybe she didn’t like feeling like she was on the losing side of a beat down. “What I do know is that I was left alone. No one to guide me, no one to watch my back. All because of you. You’re the reason my father is dead. And for that I’m going to rip all of your legs off and tack you to a cork board where you belong.”
Ypsilon and the Plague Doctor Page 17
