Danger’s Vice

by Amanda Carlson

  He appeared uncertain. His face was round and full. He couldn’t be more than early twenties. “I think so.”

  “Good, that was exact answer I wanted to hear. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to knock you out, and once you come to, I want you to find Ned and give him this message. Are you ready?” Willy began to protest. I cut him off. “We’re not making a deal, Willy. This isn’t a negotiation. Do what I say, and if you don’t, I’ll hunt you down, and you won’t like what comes next, because it’s bound to be really bloody. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to tell Ned to meet me in an hour at the same place he first saw me. Do you understand the message? It’s extremely simple.”

  “Yes, but before you knock me out, do you have a numbing agent? My leg hurts real bad.”

  “No.” I struck the side of his skull with my Gem. He went out instantly. I didn’t have time to waste. I had to be out by the time he and his friend came to. I hurried down the stairs toward seventeen. As I ran, I could see our traps had been blown left and right. I had to step over a body. This didn’t bode well for Cozzi. I kept trying to think of reasons why they would keep him alive, but I couldn’t come up with any. He was a defenseless old man, but they would assume I’d told him things, that we were colluding.

  I arrived at the end of the hallway.

  The door was ajar.

  “No, no, no,” I whispered as I shouldered it open. Cozzi lay half on the pallet, half off. His face was covered in blood, so much so that I couldn’t tell if it was actually him or not. The only thing making me certain was the burial cloth. I rushed to his side, kneeling. “Cozzi, I’m so sorry.” I set a hand on an arm that was exposed. “This is not what I intended for you.”

  I didn’t expect him to answer, so I was surprised as hell when he did.

  It was a rattling cough at first, followed by a small gasp of air. “It’s not your fault,” he managed, his voice raspy and ragged. “It’s my own damn fault.” A few more racking coughs.

  I glanced around frantically, searching for something to use to wipe the blood away from his face. The only thing available was the burial shroud he was still wrapped in. I found an edge of the fabric and dabbed the unforgiving material against his face. He cringed, but let me do it. “What happened?” I asked. “Why did they do this to you?”

  “They hit me a number of times when I didn’t answer the questions the way they liked.”

  Very gently, I rolled him toward me, transferring his head to my lap. He groaned. I had a feeling the injuries were worse than he was letting on. “What did they want to know?”

  “The usual things,” he answered. “How I knew you, where you were”—he coughed—“how come I held out on them.”

  “They were the reason I found you outside with all your belongings?” I asked. But I already knew the answer. They’d tried to get Cozzi to bend like the guard I’d just interrogated upstairs, but he’d resisted. He was old, so they’d overlooked him the first time and let him go, but not before throwing him out on the street like a pile of garbage. The second time they weren’t going to spare him.

  “Don’t be too mad at me. I’m just a silly old man,” he said, his voice wheezy. “If I’d told you about them, you would’ve gone after them, and you would’ve endangered yourself. Gone in with guns blazing, I imagine. There are too many of them. They have means, and they’re making seekers. If you got injected with that stuff, there would be nothing you could do. You’d be in a sorry state.” He began to cough and couldn’t stop, blood slowly leaking out of the corner of his mouth in a thin line, trailing all the way down his chin.

  I peeled back the burial shroud covering him. It didn’t take long to reveal his ravaged chest. “Oh, Cozzi.” I blinked back tears as I lifted my head toward the ceiling, trying to pull myself together. When I looked down again, I raged, “Those bastards are going to pay for what they did to you. You have my word. They won’t get out of this city alive.”

  He gave me a weak smile. “Promise me one thing, girl. You come back here when you’re all done giving them hell and get old Cozzi. I want to be buried at sea, like they did in the ancient times. You take this cloth, wrap me up real tight, and put me on something that floats. I’ve always dreamt of the sea. I’ll make it out to the Flotilla yet.” He tried to chuckle, but it set off another series of hacking coughs and wheezes. The trickle of blood increased to a flow, coating his chin.

  Irrational ideas popped into my head about trying to get him out of here and to the Medi Center. But I knew he would die of his wounds. There was nothing I could do about it, nor could anyone. The injury to his chest was fatal. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long.

  He was a tough old fart.

  I covered him back up, tucking the cloth around his shoulders. He trembled in my arms. “Remember the first time I met you?” I said. “My mother had just died, and I was on the streets for the very first time. Our paths crossed, and you were the oldest person I’d ever seen in my life.”

  His mouth turned up in a curve, his eyes quieting, his expression slacking. “I remember it clear as day,” he uttered on a weak breath. “You waltzed up to me, hands on your hips, and demanded shelter. I thought to myself, ‘Whoever messes with this girl will rue the day,’ so I let you in. Never felt I had a choice in the matter, really.”

  I chuckled, remembering it like a hologram playing out in front of my eyes. “I chose you for a reason. And it wasn’t because you were the oldest person I’d ever seen.” I smiled down on him, a few tears spilling over. “I chose you because of your eyes.” The Cozzi of eighteen years ago wasn’t that far off from the Cozzi today. He still had the same eyes. They were kind. They were docile. They said specifically, I won’t harm you.

  “My eyes?” he said on the barest of breaths, his eyes fluttering shut.

  “They’re kind. Just like you.”

  He tried to give me a smile, his eyes trying to open, but they only blinked rapidly as what was left of his chest heaved. There was no air left in his lungs for a cough. Only a bit left to say, “They must look just like yours.”

  He went still.

  I held him tight, my head bowed.

  A scream welled in my throat. I felt like ripping this place apart, like finding Hutch, and Dill, and Slim, and everyone else, and obliterating them. The rage washed over me like a thick blanket of hate. Maddening thoughts about every single unfair thing that’d ever happened to me in this godforsaken city raced through my mind.

  Instead of throwing a tantrum, I held the man who’d given me shelter, who’d given me a chance at life on more than one occasion, and cried.

  The grief was overwhelming.

  I had to hold it close. If I let it loose, it would kill me. If I let it rule my actions, I would make mistakes. And if I died, I wouldn’t be able to avenge Cozzi and give him the burial he deserved.

  I gave myself thirty seconds.

  When the moment had passed, I lifted his almost weightless body in my arms and transferred it to the pallet, rearranging what was left of the burial shroud—something he’d known he’d need sooner rather than later—to cover his face. “Rest well, my friend. I hope the other side is filled with sun and sea.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Rain poured down a little harder than it had this morning. I was positioned on the fourth floor of a building across the street and down the block from the place I’d first run into Dill and Ned. After I’d left Cozzi, the guards were just beginning to regain consciousness, groaning but alive.

  They had rung the alarm a short time later, like I’d known they would.

  Now I was waiting—not so patiently—for Willy to do what I’d asked him to do. The chances he would follow through with the plan were less than half—okay, more like less than a third. But I had a feeling he would do it. He’d had something in common with Ned, apparent on both of their faces.

  Pure desperation.

  Life under Hutch, Slim, and Dill would likely
be worse than the shitty life they already had to deal with each and every day.

  I was their way out.

  There had been a flurry of activity after Willy and his boyo had alerted everyone that I was in the neighborhood. The place where I’d seen Dill for the first time wasn’t their headquarters, so currently I didn’t have a view of any of the action.

  A craft buzzed around the corner at a quick clip, moving expertly between the buildings.

  I ducked behind a large piece of metal to mask my body temp from infrared. Damn. Getting out of this area without being seen was going to be tricky. I’d give Ned ten more minutes to show, then I was going to have to find a way to disappear and glean information another way.

  Trying to keep from being antsy, I crouched down and thought about avenging Cozzi. I didn’t do loss well. Everyone knew that. In order to rectify his death, I needed to make sure his sacrifice mattered. That would happen at a bare minimum. The old man had lived a long life in this town—a city that took and rarely gave anything back in return. He’d been a child when the meteor struck, on his own, much like I’d been.

  I spotted movement on the street below. Ned was moving toward the meet a block away. Then I detected another body as it ducked behind a pile of debris. Then another.

  “Oh, Willy. You had to go and make this difficult, didn’t you?” There was no doubt that Willy had told whoever was in charge that I’d requested a meeting with Ned, instead of finding and telling only Ned. If Ned could have, he would’ve met me secretly.

  This meeting was compromised.

  I slid back into the shadows, deciding on a plan. Did they honestly think I was just going to waltz out there and start up a conversation?

  Given how Dill had treated me, they didn’t think women were too smart. But still. That was worse than amateur hour.

  Once they realized I was a no-show, Ned would have to figure out what to do. If he still wanted protection in exchange for information, he’d have to make a few key decisions. If he had working brain cells, he’d head somewhere without an audience, somewhere that was familiar to us both. “That is, if you have enough of those cells. We shall see.”

  I cautiously picked my way to the first floor. This building was unstable and uninhabited. There were several ways out on the first floor. It’d been retail space of some sort, almost all glass. I chose the exit opposite of where Ned and the sneaky goons were gathering. This building was far enough away from the current meeting place, but close enough it should warrant some investigation eventually.

  Easing my head out, I did a cursory check.

  It was clear.

  According to Willy, Hutch had been forced to recruit Northerners because his men had been depleted. Right now, it showed. This place should be crawling with bodies scouring for my location, but there was nobody in sight. I headed out on the street, my shoulder so close to the building it brushed against it as I ran.

  Four blocks over, even farther away from our meet, I ducked into another storefront. My former blown-out residence was right around the corner.

  If Ned wanted to find me, he would head this way. He had to know it was my residence that they’d demolished. It was the only thing that linked us.

  I wasn’t going to wait for very long, but this space would give me ample cover. Inside, remnants of old merchandise were strewn around, mixed with bits of collapsed shelving and common household supplies, most of them battered and crushed beyond recognition. I stepped over a dozen mangled carbon cups and was just about to maneuver over another pile when I noticed the corner of an unfamiliar package peeking out, almost completely covered by heavy debris.

  Squatting, I grasped the edge of the packaging and pulled.

  It wouldn’t budge.

  Shifting some of the heavy stuff out of the way, trying not to make any noise, I was finally able to slide it out less than half a meter. It was a hologram camera, still in its original wrapper. The box was barely there, but it was a box nonetheless. It was a sweet find.

  After all these years, rarely, if ever, did one find something still in its original packaging. Odds were that it would work with some fine-tuning.

  It was too cumbersome to take now. I glanced around, trying to find a better place to store it. Daze would get a kick out of this if we could get it to work. Back before the dark days, everyone used holograms. From what I’d heard, the video quality had been amazing. Some forms of entertainment could even be performed in the middle of your living room.

  Finding nowhere better, I tucked it back under where I’d found it, covering it up with more trash. I’d have to take a chance it was still here when I came back.

  After I was done, I clapped the grime off my hands and made my way to the side of the building that Ned would likely pass by first, if he took a direct route from where he’d been standing waiting for me on the street.

  Picking the most concealed location I could, I placed my back up against the wall, bending my knees to stoop behind a partition that was half standing. From this vantage point, I could see out onto the street at the correct angle, but I was far enough inside to be protected from view. Once I ID’d him, I would have to make it to the other side of the building to intercept him. It was too risky to talk to him here.

  Reaching into a pocket, I withdrew a tech phone. “It’s Ella,” I said, the button depressed, my voice lowered. “Waiting on a friend.”

  Static, and then, “Copy that. It’s Jerry. I’m making the rounds. Likely location is south.”

  South?

  Lockland was telling me that Hutch’s headquarters were in the canals, not in The North. That didn’t make any sense. The North was crawling with his guys. Why would he have a pretense of being in The North when he was actually in the canals?

  I was just about to ask that very thing, in code, when the static ended and Bender’s voice boomed over the line. “It’s Johnny.” I had to push the phone down into my vest to muffle the sound. “South is correct. Heading there momentarily.”

  “Got it,” I answered. “I’ll join you in a few.”

  I didn’t like that Hutch was in the canals. We’d left Darby and Daze there without any backup. If Lockland had gotten information on Hutch’s headquarters that quickly, it was likely people in The North were beginning to talk. Tensions must be rising, as this thing—whatever it was—came to a head. There would be factions for and against. If Willy’s information meant anything—that those two had been forced to work with Hutch and his crew or else get a dose of Plush—there would be quite a few against.

  Impatient didn’t come close to how I felt. If Ned didn’t surface in three minutes, I was going to scrap the meeting and head south.

  Less than a minute later, footsteps sounded, moving toward me at a quick pace. It could be a random person from the neighborhood, maybe one of Hutch’s guys investigating the area, or it could be Ned.

  I needed a visual as they approached.

  Ned’s stringy brown hair was a dead giveaway.

  He was sans helmet, his hands stuffed in his pockets, head down. He passed my location quickly, without glancing in. I waited for a few seconds to see if there were any other people following him.

  If this operation was smart, his tail would be close, but they wouldn’t want to spook me. I was going to use that to my advantage and make this meet quick.

  I jogged back through the building, avoiding the trash as I went, choosing a place that would be in front of Ned as he turned the corner.

  If he didn’t come this way, it would be a miss, and I’d take that as a warning.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long before his footsteps echoed toward me again. Right as he arrived at my location, I drew out my Gem, staying immobile in the shadows of the overhang.

  I uttered three words as he passed: “Get in here.” He started, shocked to see I was actually there. But he masked it quickly. I gestured impatiently. “At least try to make it look like you were heading in here on purpose.”

  Even before h
e spoke, I heard noises. More footsteps, like a dozen, and they were running.

  Damn it.

  Ned shook his head, his eyes downcast. “I’m sorry. I wish it could’ve been different. This wasn’t my intent. When Dill figured out who you were the other morning, he went ballistic. He threatened to make me a slave and to kill anyone who was close to me. I couldn’t risk it.”

  I was already racing the other way. I couldn’t overly fault Ned. Had I known what was at stake in the first place, I would’ve taken him with me the first time we’d met. But hindsight was always crystal clear. That was why it was called hindsight.

  Foresight was what I should’ve had at this very moment.

  Fucking foresight.

  Running through the building, I had to decide which direction to go once I arrived on the street. It was going to be a chase game no matter what. I was almost there when a voice called out of the shadows, ironically not even a meter from where I’d just stood waiting for Ned.

  Dill sauntered into view in front of me, carrying a nasty-looking magnetic pulse gun pointed directly at my chest. It was identical to the one Case had used in Port Station. “Stop right there,” he drawled, “or I liquefy your insides and watch them pour out all the holes.” Dill had such an eloquent way with words.

  I slowed, veering to the right, deciding whether to take my chances. Pulse guns weren’t always accurate. Whatever was inside the bullets made them arc a majority of the time. I had a solid chance to outrun him.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “and that’s just stupid. I don’t miss.” Before I could actually make a decision either way, more footfalls moved toward us, coming from both directions. Shit. Dill grinned, showing a mouthful of yellow crap. “Now it’s time for you to raise those pretty little hands and get to surrendering. And while you’re at it, I’ll take that vest from you.” At least fifteen men filled in around us, most of them with weapons drawn. Ned was one. “Go on, take it off now, before I get pissy,” Dill said. “That was mine the moment I saw it.”