“You haven’t met him yet,” Daze countered. “He’s the kind of guy that smokes someone just because they disagree with him. You don’t even have to be a seeker, you can just be regular.”
I met the kid’s eyes. They were a mix of amber and brown. Now I understood. “Daze, just because I didn’t kill those seekers doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s necessary. You can trust me on that.” Three buildings up, I angled left, heading west, dropping altitude quickly, my hands working the levers almost without thought. “Should we pay that sustainer family a visit?” I grinned. “The ones who considered selling you into slavery, and teach them a thing or two?”
His eyes brightened, then dimmed just as quickly. “No. They had another kid. One they took in as a baby.”
“Got it.” The rules of the street: Protect your own kind. “I’m not anticipating any issues, just so you know.” I slowed the craft. Up ahead was the only logjam in the city. “We go in, uncover the goods, and get out. Getting a hold of that pico is incredibly important. Without it, we don’t know what we have on this guy.” I idled at an intersection where four buildings stood, one on each corner. Visibility was always tough here. One craft flew above us. It was white, not black.
After I was sure it was safe, I continued on.
Only a few more kilometers left to go.
“What if the pico is gone?” Daze asked.
I shrugged. “You said you hid your things well when you left, but if it’s not there, it’s not there. Life continues on.” A few blocks down, I turned right, heading north again, hugging right while I increased altitude. “We’ll figure out something else. A guy involved with child slavery has dirty hands.” After a few minutes, and another turn, I made a quick drop, punching the landing gear as I went. We settled smoothly on top of a building that had been sheared off at three stories. Once we were down, I depressed a button twice, a retractable cover closing over us. I tugged off my helmet. “Now it’s time for me and you to meet some of my friends. And don’t worry too much. Bender’s a badass, but he won’t hurt you. He’ll just act like he will.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bender was the only occupant of the entire building, so it was always secure. There were only two ways in. One up top, where we currently were, and one door at street level that led into his shop—and when that door was closed, it would take more power than the government had to blow it up.
Daze trailed after me, his helmet braced under one arm, like I held mine. Except, his arms were much shorter and the helmet adult-sized, so it looked comical as his hand struggled to keep it in place.
Endearing, but comical.
I headed toward a barricade of solid steel and drew a small laser out of my vest, aiming it into a hole. A light flashed, and a door popped open at the end of the wall.
“Is that a laser key?” Daze asked as we walked toward the entrance.
“Yep,” I answered as I widened the span of the opening with my foot so he could move through. “But it’s a heat-sensor laser, not a flesh-singeing one. Lesson number nine or ten, not all lasers are created equal.” We headed down the first of three flights of stairs. “Bender looks like he should run a skell in The North,” I warned, “and quite possibly used to. He doesn’t talk about his past, so don’t get any ideas about asking him.”
“We’re in The Middle, aren’t we?” Daze asked.
“Yep.”
“Me and my friends tried to get in here a couple times.” He trailed a few paces behind me. “One time we were successful, but got tossed a few minutes later. One guy got a broken arm.”
“That’s what happens around here. They don’t take kindly to strangers,” I said. “If they let one orphan in, the floodgates would open to them all. Everyone here is hanging on by a thread, exactly like the rest of us. They’re just doing it more united than most. They let you in to see Bender if you ask nicely and have something in need of repair, but you have to request a visit ahead of time. No sneaking in. Other than that, their motto is: Stay Out.”
“Is that how you met Bender?” Daze asked. “Did you need something fixed?”
“Not exactly.” We rounded the last landing, another steel door in front of us. No fancy apparatuses to get through this one. It could be opened only from the inside. I took out my tech phone, but before I could depress the button, the door swung wide, ending on a loud creak.
Just inside, Bender had his back against the wall, his massive arms crossed, a pissed expression on his face. He wore a tan one-piece outfit, the kind government workers used when they “worked” on city projects. Work was a bit of an oxymoron. The government came out reluctantly and did things, but only when the situation was dire and lives had already been lost. The sleeves were cut off right above his biceps. Otherwise, the thing wouldn’t have fit.
I prodded Daze forward, my hand resting beneath his shoulder blades, urging him through the opening. His feet scuffed in his unconscious resistance. It would’ve been nice if Bender could’ve found a smile for the kid, but that wasn’t how this was going to work.
Instead, Bender’s cleanly shaved head, deeply veined arms, and pierced ears—all meant to intimidate—were doing their job perfectly. Everyone in The Middle feared and respected Bender in equal parts, and now that included the kid.
How else did the man have an entire building to himself?
“This is Daze, my sustainee.” My voice issued a minor challenge, even though I knew it wasn’t necessary. My business was my business. “I picked him up last night. Sorry I didn’t signal it. That was my fault all the way.” After we were both inside, the door shut automatically. “Darby was in the area, so it all worked out.”
Bender focused his attention on the kid, who bumped back into me trying to get away from his jet-black stare. I placed a hand on Daze’s shoulder so he knew I was there. I could sympathize. The first time I’d seen Bender, I’d wet my pants. It was only a trickle, but still, there had been urine involved. I’d been nine, fresh from escaping the horror of a man who I’d killed and looked way less scary than Bender.
Daze was twelve. He’d likely fare better. But I was here just in case.
Bender’s eyes tracked back to mine. “Is this the kid you were hired to find last night?”
“Yep.”
Without saying another word, Bender turned and lumbered down the hallway.
We followed, me gently kneeing Daze in the back to get him started. I leaned over his shoulder as we walked. “Lesson eleven, never show them you’re scared.” Daze’s spine straightened immediately. That’s the spirit, kid.
Bender’s workshop was massive. Once upon a time, it’d been a retail space of some sort. The glass in front had been replaced with thick graphene walls. Pillars were positioned at regular intervals, keeping everything standing, and the mezzanine floor, which had likely been polished to a high sheen long ago, was marred by the passing of time and pocked with holes made from dropping large, heavy items on it on a regular basis.
Bender had worktables, spread with parts, motors, rotors, tools, and everything else, scattered all over the place. Nothing looked organized. It never had been. Yet, of course, Bender knew where everything was. He also had traps and weapons stashed at two-meter intervals, so you had to know where to step. Even though he was feared in this neighborhood, it didn’t make him immune to issues. There were always issues.
I laid my helmet on a pile of bolts and carefully took Daze’s out of his arms. The kid was too overcome to talk. “Looks like we beat Lockland here,” I said as I glanced around.
Bender sat on his usual stool, one foot up on a rung, his arms back to being crossed. “What happened on twelve today?”
I slid a chair out and sat. “We were overrun. Had no warning. Came over the rafter from Blue into Yazzie, and there they were. Tased one, he collapsed on the other, and me and the kid dropped through a ceiling hole. Stairs were clear by the time we got there, the garage was open, and here we are.” Hollow pounding came from the hallway we’d just
come through. Lockland was at the door. I nodded casually. “You want me to get that?”
Bender flicked his head. “Send the kid.”
My eyebrows rose, but I didn’t question it. I turned to Daze. “Go answer the door. The guy standing there is a little shorter and a little nicer-looking than this guy”—I jerked my thumb toward Bender—“but not by much. There’s a red button and a green button. Hit the red one. If you hit the green, you’ll wish you hadn’t for about a week.” It took Daze only two seconds to react. I would’ve given him a solid ten. He buzzed back the way we’d come, no questions asked.
I focused my attention on Bender.
He gave an infinitesimal nod.
His way of saying he approved. I left it alone.
Daze and Lockland entered thirty seconds later. Lockland was wearing his usual jacket, a long sweeping black synthetic leather throwback. I’d salvaged it a few years ago. It’d had Lockland written all over it. Where Bender was bald, Lockland wore his dark hair clipped close to the scalp. Lockland’s coloring leaned more toward mocha. Bender’s was light brown. They both looked rough as hell, facial hair usually shadowing their jaws, scars and other life lessons embedded on their skin for all to see. When they walked the streets, regular folks took a step back.
My family.
“What the fuck, Holly?”
“What the fuck yourself, Lockland? We were overrun. Why in the hell didn’t we have any warning?”
“The sensors were down in Yazzie on twelve, but I didn’t know it until I lost track of you halfway over the rafter. When I figured out something was off, I beeped.” Lockland swept himself into a chair, while Daze lingered behind me.
“Your beep came too late. Seekers were all over. I’m assuming you saw where we went after? Or was all of Yazzie down?”
He shook his head. “Just twelve and the stairwell. I picked you up on eleven, then again in the garage. The bigger question is, who the hell is after you and why? That shit was deliberate. Whoever it is can dismantle a signal amplifier quickly, and they knew what to look for.” Lockland leaned back, his chair banging against a worktable. He ignored things as they tumbled off.
“They aren’t after me,” I said. “Well, they are now, but I wasn’t their initial quarry.” I inclined my head toward the kid, who had come to stand next to me. “You tell them the rest. All of it.”
Both men turned their attention to Daze.
Back in the day, I might’ve wilted under such scrutiny, but the urchin stuck his now clean chin out. It seemed he’d recovered from his first sight of Bender. But, of course, Bender was sitting a few meters away, trying to look smaller than he was. I appreciated that. “I…I took something of Tandor’s…and he’s going to kill me for it,” the kid started. “But Holly said if I can find the computer, maybe we can get him to stop.” He paused. When nobody said anything, he continued. “Tandor is new in town and a bad man. I’m a runaway…from Port Station. I came here…to the city…after my mom died. I got snatched. A bunch of us were hiding in the tunnels, and they came for us. Tandor threatened to kill my friend, so I took a chip out of his computer.” His chin jutted even farther. Impressive angle. “I knew where to find it because my dad had a pico. The chip is called a quantum drive. Tandor bragged to his friend that nobody could figure out how to get the drive. But I did.”
Lockland’s head dropped back, and Bender massaged the knuckles on one hand.
The kid had no idea how high the stakes were.
If my family chose to protect the kid, they took on all his baggage.
I stood, my hands dropping to my waist, my gloved fingers flexing. “I made the decision to help the kid. It’s mine alone. The two of us are heading to Port Station tonight. It’s my run. It’s not universal. Once we get the computer, then I’ll have more information to share. Until then, I’m in this alone.” I was giving them a chance to stay out of a potential maelstrom. They’d do the same for me.
“Bullshit.” Lockland stood abruptly. The worktable rocked precariously as he strode away, more crap tumbling off. “This Tandor asshole wrecked my equipment. Someone has to pay for that.”
Without comment, Bender stood and walked over to his cooling unit and took out a jug containing a sludgy brown liquid. He popped the cap and downed it straight from the bottle. Not everyone hated aminos. A knock came from his front door. He swiped a forearm over his mouth and roared, “I’m closed. Come back later!” Then he shoved the jug back in the unit, not offering it to anyone else, and came to stand in front of Daze and me, arms crossed. It was his standard pose—the same exact one I’d encountered eighteen years ago when I’d stumbled through his front door trying to outrun the neighborhood militants. “This run is universal.”
That was it.
“Got it.” I nodded. “After we see what’s on the quantum drive, I don’t care what happens to the pico. Darby wants to take a look at it, though. We can vote later. My plan is to hit Port Station at the beginning of blackout. Daze has a good memory, and he’s going to draw us a map. His place was fairly run-down when he left, so we’re assuming it’s resident-free. If not, I’ll deal.”
Bender eyed Daze. “Who else knows you came from Port Station?”
Daze gaped at the direct question.
If I had resting bitch voice, Bender had a punch-you-in-the-neck voice, usually followed up by a growl. Before the kid had a chance to answer, Lockland interjected, coming forward, “What he means is, did you talk to the other street kids? Did you brag? Who knows about your stuff?” Lockland’s tone wasn’t much better, but it conveyed its true meaning, which was I’ll slap you upside the head if you don’t answer quickly.
Daze was ready this time. “I told a few people. I didn’t brag. I just talked about my mom.”
“Did you tell them exactly where you lived? The address? If you told anyone, Tandor and his crew will find out eventually.”
“I only told Renata. My best friend. But she’s dead.”
“The one you tried to save?” I asked.
“Yes.” Daze scuffed his shoes on the ground.
There was no way to know if Renata talked before she died. “There’s a carbon tablet and static pen over there. Go draw us a picture of your residence and anything else you can remember around it. I’ve been to Port Station enough times. It’s not that big. I should be able to pick out some familiar landmarks.”
“Where were you supposed to drop this kid yesterday?” Bender asked as Daze went to do as I asked.
“In The North,” I said. “The address is on a stencil inside my craft. The job came through a communication slot I monitor outside of the canals. I haven’t been back to that location.”
Lockland paced forward, scowling, sidestepping a trap at the last minute that would’ve plowed the tip of a pointed hammer into his thigh. “They know something about you. They went to Yazzie to track you down, which means they were following you.” As he paced, his jacket kicked out behind him. He didn’t wear standard-issue clothing. Lockland’s number-one job was security, but he’d started out as a salvager, just like me.
“Could be,” I said, “but Luce didn’t pick up any craft signals on the way back, and there’s no way anyone compromised her while we were in transit. She wasn’t out of my sight. The only thing solid I have so far is that they operate a matte black Q7. Luce scrambled her up no problem, so their tech can’t be that advanced. But it didn’t trail us home.”
“Knowing anything about you makes them dangerous.” Lockland tugged a chair out and straddled it backward, facing us. “From now on, we only take level-three avenues, no more level ones until we figure their angle.” Level threes were basically tunnels and routes we hadn’t used in years. It would make getting anywhere much harder, but it would keep us under the radar.
“Somebody’s got to tell Darby,” I said. “I’d bet money he doesn’t remember any of our level threes, and he’s been out more often lately.” I wasn’t going to rat out his business. It was his story to tell.
/> “Stay out of your main residence, too,” Bender growled. “If they know about Yazzie, they know more.” He fisted his hands, bracing his knuckles on one of his tables, leaning over, bowing his head. This was how Bender used his brain best. After a moment, he lifted it and said, “I don’t like it. Something’s off. If there are new outskirts in town, we should’ve heard about it. This is my town.” His eyes locked on Daze. “When did you get snatched?”
“Two months ago,” Daze answered promptly, his voice a few octaves higher. “I know that for sure, because the other kids gave me my six-month cake the day before.”
“Cake?” I asked.
“A protein cake,” he answered. “For surviving that long. It was supposed to be chocolate flavored.” He shrugged. “It tasted like normal.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Does any of this look familiar?” I asked.
“I can’t see, it’s dark out,” Daze answered from the passenger seat sullenly.
“Look harder.” We hovered over one of the walls on the east side of Port Station. The guards were spread out along this stretch, and easily bribed, which Lockland had seen to during the day.
Lucky for us, Daze lived close to this area. The buildings, just beyond the wall, were much different than they were in the city, most of them low and crumbling, made from materials not meant to last. This had been a neglected area, even before the dark days, most of the buildings slated for removal rather than upgrades.
Daze squashed his head against the windshield, his helmet sliding back as it hit the glass. He had my spare glasses on for better viewing. Bender had given him a new helmet, but it still wasn’t small enough.
While I waited for him to recognize the landscape, my tech phone buzzed. It was already in my hand. “This is Ella.”
“You’re late for dinner.” Lockland was irritated. During the day, he’d discovered that more of his equipment had been vandalized in a few other buildings we used in the canals. Whoever had been searching for us last night had done a fairly thorough job and seemed to know the routes we used, which was alarming for a variety of reasons.
Danger's Halo: (Holly Danger Book 1) Page 10
