The Man Who Crossed Worlds (Miles Franco #1)

by Chris Strange

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  When I was a kid, before I knew I’d become a Tunneler, I was fostered with a rich old family, one who had lived in Bluegate for generations before it was even called Bluegate. The parents ignored me for the most part, which suited me fine; I’d always perceived adults as authority figures, and more than one social worker had noted I don’t deal well with authority.

  But the family had a pair of twin boys, a few years older than me. They took responsibility for me, teaching me the ways of school and girls and life. They even let me have the pick of their stash of Playboys and Hustlers they kept under their bed. They kept me on track, kept me away from the drug dealers that used to stand outside the school gates. The year I spent with that family was the most stable I’d experienced in my entire life.

  But when I was thirteen, my ability to Tunnel started manifesting, and I started experimenting. The Bore had only existed for about fifteen years by then, and there was still a lot of fear surrounding it. The parents were old-school; they reacted badly to what they were afraid of. They tried beating it out of me at first, and when I still found ways to get my hands on Kemia, they shipped me off to another foster family. They did it while the twins were at school. I never even got to say good-bye.

  I’d left school and was studying for my Tunneler’s license by the time I tracked them down again. The kick in the guts was that it was at their funeral.

  Somehow, despite all they’d taught me, all they’d done to keep me on the rails, they’d fallen in with some nasty people. I never found out exactly what had happened, or why they’d done it, but for some reason they tried a bank robbery. They botched it, and the cops surrounded the place before they could get out with the cash.

  The media couldn’t figure out who shot first, but it’s not like it mattered. There was a firefight between the twins and the police, and when the smoke cleared, both boys were filled with holes.

  I turned up drunk to the funeral. The caskets were closed. After the service, after their bodies were shoved in the dirt, me and a few of the twins’ cousins drank the bar dry. I blubbed the whole time, asking everyone I could what had happened, how the hell they had got involved with the wrong kind of people.

  The answer I got was always the same. No idea. Not one person had been close enough to them to notice their downhill slide. They seemed so confident helping me, but no one had been there to help them.

  I thought of the twins as I pulled Desmond’s car up beside a payphone on the side of the street. This city didn’t just take innocents, it corrupted them. Maybe Todd was right, maybe Bluegate could only be purged by fire. Or maybe he was batshit insane. It didn’t matter. I’d do what he told me. I didn’t have a choice.

  Night had fallen. The rain hammered on me as I got out of the car and walked through puddles to the phone booth. Spray-painted tags covered the booth, and one of the glass panels had been shattered.

  I stepped out of the rain and picked up the battered receiver. It had a dial tone, which was something of a miracle in this city. I fed some coins into the machine and punched in Desmond’s cell phone number. He picked up on the first ring.

  “How’s Tania?” I asked.

  “She’s settled down a bit. Fought me all the way back to hospital, but they gave her something to help her sleep. She’s got sharp teeth, I’ll give her that.”

  “That’s good. Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “I’ll add it to the list,” he said, but I could hear the smile in his voice. “What’s up? Did you reconsider your idiot plan to find Todd?”

  I ignored the question. “I need you to keep Tania safe. She needs to be taught how to Tunnel, okay? Like I asked you before. Her mother might not like it too much, but you have to convince her. Tania won’t take any convincing.”

  “Well…yeah sure, guy, but why don’t you—”

  “It’s complicated. Sorry to do this to you, I know it won’t be cheap, just do the best you can.”

  “I’m not worried about the money. Miles, what the hell are you planning?”