What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  I didn’t really want to be in Clan Molloy, but the rest of the camp wasn’t exactly attractive. And Molloy was the devil I knew, so sticking with him seemed smarter than taking my chances with the unknown pravers menacing the camp. Besides, I didn’t really trust any of them, and staying in the Clan meant I could keep an eye on Laney. Just in case.

  Laney started to stir, her tranquil look lingering as she propped herself up and licked her dry lips. I twisted out of Simon’s grasp and brought her one of the water bottles. She greedily slurped it down. She hadn’t entirely awoken to our nightmarish situation in the camp, and a surreal look of happiness crossed her face as the water hit its mark.

  I met Simon’s expectant look. “Fine. Take us to Molloy.”

  chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

  Simon led Laney and me back out into the blistering sun.

  Our barrack was at the tail end of a row of eight identical buildings. Simon took us toward the front and around a corner, where a hundred-foot space opened between our cluster of barracks and the next group of military-style structures. The gap between blocks had been empty before, but now that the fighting was done, several groups of jackers lounged outside the weathered doors of their barracks.

  A knot of four boys my age swung their heads in our direction. Their clothes were frayed and torn, some holes patched and others left gaping. They looked like they’d been wearing the same thing for months. Each had a strip of black cloth tied around their arm.

  Their minds pressed on mine. Simon said not to jack in here, but these pravers seemed to have no compunction. Laney’s hand trembled in mine.

  “Can they jack from there?” I asked Simon.

  “Most can’t bridge the gap between blocks to do more than link in. That’s why they’re set so far apart.” The boys stared like wolves sizing up which sheep to eat first. Simon must have linked some thought to them, because they switched focus to him, and the light pressure on my mind evaporated. They gave Laney and me another lingering look filled with nasty promise, then the apparent leader shoved his hands in his pockets, and they turned their backs on us.

  Simon hurried us forward. We quickly reached the center barrack in the block, identical to all the others except the letter C had been etched above the first door.

  “Just let me do the talking.” Simon walked in, and we trailed behind him.

  The room had been stripped of cots, leaving more space for the two dozen Clan members. Molloy’s red head towered over them as they gathered around him. The Clan was in much the same shape as Simon—dusty, beaten, and faces lit up with their apparent victory. Molloy’s broad smile extended to Simon, but instantly twisted to a snarl when he saw me.

  “Wha—?” He growled and parted the crowd of Clan members as he moved more quickly than a giant should. “What is she doing here?” he demanded. I was afraid he would run us over, with the speed he was picking up.

  “Wait!” Simon leaped in front of me. “Let me explain.”

  Molloy hesitated, but seemed ready to pummel me into the ground like the rival gang of jackers he had destroyed minutes ago. Simon felt like a thin barrier to the wrath that was coming off the Red Giant. His eyes flicked to Simon, back to me, and then finally noticed Laney tucked behind me. Molloy’s eyes narrowed as he took in my protective stance.

  “She came in the truck with the newcomers,” Simon was saying. “This changeling was there, and another boy, but I couldn’t help him.”

  Molloy’s eyes swung back to Simon. “Why not?”

  “He was unconscious.” Simon glanced at me, and I wished he hadn’t. Molloy could probably figure out who had made him that way. “I had to fight off Lenny’s crew just to get to the truck. I didn’t have time to haul the kid out.”

  “So you brought her instead.” The intensity of Molloy’s stare on my face was matched by the pressure of him trying to jack into my mind. “A fine choice. Now we can pay her back.” The rest of the Clan members had slowly circled around us. Pasty Man, Molloy’s international spook friend, stood by the door. His face was imprinted with a red boot mark. There was no way we were leaving the room.

  I was a match in the middle of a keg of gunpowder.

  “That wasn’t her fault!” Simon held up his hands. “She didn’t know anything about the Feds. Gomez must have been the rat. Right? Otherwise why would Kira be here?”

  “Perhaps the Feds sent her to spy on us again.” Molloy leaned to the side to peer at Laney. “What about the little one?” He was talking to me now. “Is she a snitch like you, Kira?”

  I swallowed. “She’s just a kid. She needs protection.”

  Molloy didn’t seem to expect that response from me. Simon cut in. “She’s just a changeling.”

  Molloy jutted his chin out to the Clan members hovering behind us. “We’ll take the girl into the Clan. But not the traitor.” Hands reached out of the crowd and tugged Laney away from me. She gasped and gripped my hand with both of hers. Her best chance was probably with the Clan, but I had a hard time convincing myself to let go.

  I stood straighter and stared down the hatred on Molloy’s face. “Do you promise to keep her safe?”

  “My quarrel isn’t with her.” His shark smile hollowed out my stomach.

  Laney’s wide-eyed look stabbed through me.

  “Laney, it’s okay. I promise.” I linked into her head. I don’t want you mixed up in my mess, okay? I need you to go with them. To be safe.

  Fear gave her mind a bitter aftertaste. She slowly released her death-grip. Her small eyes grew large and round as she was swallowed by the crowd.

  Molloy’s meaty hand clamped on my arm and jerked me around. My knees softened as he loomed over me, probably deciding how best to take his revenge. Before I could open my mouth, Simon grabbed Molloy’s wrist. “She can help us.”

  “I’ve heard that from you before.” Molloy released me and focused on Simon. Pasty Man appeared by his side.

  Simon seemed to stagger under a great weight, and I realized that they must be fighting in his mind. Simon buckled and fell to the floor, landing on his knees but managing to stay upright. A cruel smile curled one side of Pasty Man’s face as Simon swayed under their assault. I remembered the force that Pasty Man had pressed on my mind in the warehouse. With the two of them combined, Simon didn’t have a chance.

  “I know how to fight the gas.” I stepped next to Simon. “Let him go, and I’ll tell you how.” I didn’t like Simon. Not even a little bit. But he was trying to help me, and it wasn’t right for him to take Molloy’s wrath.

  In the warehouse, Molloy and his Clan had been unprepared. I had caught them by surprise and knocked them out before they knew what was happening. But now, I doubted I could even overpower Molloy, much less a room full of angry Clan members. Maybe I could bargain our way out of this.

  Molloy ignored me and fixed his eyes on Simon. His whole body trembled, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could keep Molloy out by the power of his eyelids. I clenched my hands. If I attacked Molloy, neither of us would likely make it out of the room. But if they didn’t release Simon soon, I would have to at least try to shove Molloy out of Simon’s mind, before he did any permanent damage.

  Right as I was about to jack in, Molloy released his mental grip on Simon, and Pasty Man sneered his disgust at some unspoken command. Simon fell forward on his hands and gasped for air. I gingerly pressed into Simon’s mind, afraid of what I would find. There was no sign of Molloy’s presence. Are you okay?

  Yes. Simon’s response was weak.

  “So,” said Molloy. “Simon here seems to believe you’re telling the truth about this ability to control the effects of the gas.”

  “That’s right.” I stood taller.

  Molloy eyed me with curiosity, the hatred having vanished with his interrogation of Simon’s mind. “Well, now, little Kira. It seems you may make a useful addition to the Clan yet.” Some of the hardness returned to his face. “But Simon is much more trusting than I am. And much more enamored wi
th you than he should be.”

  I refused to look at Simon. He had forfeited the right to any feelings for me the moment we walked into that warehouse. And my feelings for him were closer to hatred than anything else.

  “I can tell you how it works.”

  “Oh, you’ll need to do much better than that, little Kira. I’ll believe you can defeat the gas when I see you do it.”

  Considering I had the Impenetrable Mind, and Molloy couldn’t get into my head for a truth examination, there was a certain logic to proving my newfound talent by demonstration. But I still didn’t like the sound of it.

  “Uh, okay.”

  Molloy smirked at my discomfort. “According to information from a few, ah, recruits from Lenny’s Clan, we’re due for another supply drop.” Pasty Man seemed like he enjoyed extracting that information from the minds of Lenny’s crew.

  “When the Feds come in, they gas the camp first. Everyone goes down and wakes up with fresh food and water supplies to fight over.”

  “Why don’t they just send in the truck?” Given that I had been delivered on an autotruck to the camp, gassing everyone seemed like a lot of effort merely to supply food and water.

  Molloy’s face turned cold. “Because they take a few volunteers with them when they leave.”

  The Feds took people out of the camp? I had assumed it was a one-way trip. Why send us all to jacker camp, only to take us back out again, a few at a time? It didn’t make any sense. “Where do they take them?”

  “According to Lenny’s Clan, somewhere worse than here,” Molloy said with dead seriousness. What could possibly be worse than the camp? “If you’re able to fight off the gas, little Kira, then perhaps you could be useful after all.” He loomed over me with his giant frame, but his words were more frightening than his hulking presence. “I don’t want to lose any of my Clan to the Feds and their ghoulish experiments.”

  My jaw dropped. The Feds were experimenting on jackers? It was like the early days of the change, when they pushed probes into my Great Grandpa Reilly’s brain like he was a lab rat. How could they possibly justify that? Anger boiled in my stomach.

  “Like I said,” Molloy continued, “I’ll believe you can control the gas when I see it. If you can, we’ll talk about putting your ability to good use. Like getting out of the Fed’s cozy prison. But I’m not going to risk any of my Clan members based on your good word,” he said, the words sounding like they tasted bitter, “and Simon’s misplaced trust.” He folded his arms to study me. “If you can fight the gas when the drop comes, you should be able to bring back food from the depot before the rest of the camp awakes. If you can’t do that much, well, you’re not much use to us then, are you? And if the Feds catch you, then we’ll see you when you come back in the newcomer truck with a few pieces missing.” He leaned closer, looming over me. “Either way, I expect you to use that unique head of yours to keep my Clan safe. If there’s anyone missing after the drop, it had better be you.”

  I leaned away from him. Either Molloy thought I could fight through the mist and hold off the Feds all on my own, or he was hoping I would get caught trying and end up in one of the Fed’s experiments. I had a chance of fighting off the gas, but I didn’t have much hope of holding the Feds at bay. I hoped like crazy that they wouldn’t come looking for any Clan Molloy members during the next drop.

  Because it seemed there was a place worse than the camp after all.

  chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

  Molloy had learned much from interrogating Lenny’s crew.

  Andre, Molloy’s pasty second-in-command, was briefing me and seemed to enjoy talking to me about as much as I liked his beady stares. We each wore the red armband that identified us as Block C now, like the rest of the Clan, but I didn’t make the mistake of assuming we were on the same side. “The supply drops happen randomly,” he said. “Before the drop, the camp is gassed. It comes in through an underground piping system. The barracks, the washrooms, the depot. Even outside.” His grin was filled with evil, and I was sure he hoped I would fail miserably in combating the gas and the Feds.

  Only that was exactly what Molloy expected me to do. “How many prisoners do they take?” I tried to not bow under Pasty Man’s antagonism.

  “Usually only two or three.”

  Maybe luck would be on my side. Block C could hold about 400 people, but it was relatively empty, with most of Lenny’s Clan fleeing after the fight. If the other Blocks were even half full, and with seven Blocks spread around the camp, my rough calculations put the camp at over a thousand inmates. The odds seemed low that any Clan Molloy members would go missing.

  The idea of a thousand jackers made my mind fuzz out a bit. There must be many more jackers in the world than I ever imagined. With a thousand in the camp, there had to be many times that amount hiding among the readers of the world.

  Andre was distracted by Simon hopping around on one foot and making a squawking noise. I had convinced Simon to let Laney practice her jacking skills on him, since she couldn’t jack into my Impenetrable Mind. I linked a thought to her. Don’t make Simon mad. We’re going to need his help.

  She pouted. Can I make him sing?

  No.

  How about cartwheels?

  I threw out my hands. Just practice linking your thoughts.

  She rolled her eyes, but Simon stumbled to a stop and glared at me from across the room. I ignored him. “So,” I said to Andre, “as long as no Clan Molloy members go missing and I bring back some food, we’re good. Right?”

  Andre hesitated, but gave me a short nod. “As soon as the drop is finished and the camp awakens from the gas, the depot will be overrun. Each Block sends its strongest jackers at harvest time. Some don’t come back.” His evil smile returned. I narrowed my eyes. “If, however, you can remain awake, it should be no problem for you to bring back food for the Clan.” He lifted a dusty pillow from the cot next to us. “A pillowcase full should be enough to convince Mr. Molloy.”

  I snatched the pillow from him and started to tug the pillowcase off. “No problem.” But I wasn’t at all sure about any of it. If I could keep the gas at bay, I should be able to get to the depot after the Feds left and before anyone else woke up. But if the FBI agents came after any Clan Molloy members, I was in serious trouble. Maybe I would be able to knock them out, if they weren’t expecting me. And if I was on the losing end of that jack? No, if they came looking for volunteers from Clan Molloy, I’d be better off finding another Clan to join. Which made me realize how little I knew about the rest of the Clans and the layout of the camp, much less where the food was held. “Where’s the depot?”

  “I’m sure Simon can help you with that.”

  I had a sick feeling that I had stepped into some kind of trap. We both glanced at Simon, who was doing pushups on the floor next to a grinning Laney. I let out a long sigh.

  After Andre left and I convinced Laney to apologize to Simon, I planned to check out the rest of the camp, find the depot, and possibly scout out ways to escape and take Laney with me. Simon insisted on coming along. I told him I didn’t want to leave Laney alone, that I was concerned about the less savory members of Clan Molloy, including Andre. Simon insisted she would be fine as long as she stayed in Block C.

  I lightly brushed Simon’s mind, just a bare whisper of a link so I could read his thoughts without him being aware of my presence. I had learned how to do this shortly after Molloy gave us temporary sanctuary in the Clan. Jacking into someone’s mind was the same as asking for a fight, but only if they knew you were there. Trusting Simon wasn’t high on my priority list, but he seemed to only be thinking of keeping me safe outside Block C. And I didn’t see a way to leave him behind.

  As it turned out, I was glad Simon came with me as soon as we left Block C. A gang of jackers drifted away from Block B to follow us. They were the four guys from before, they knew my head was as hard as a rock, and they had brought more friends with black armbands. They might have figured out I was unique or mayb
e they wanted to finish whatever praver thoughts they had from before.

  Simon didn’t have to tell me to pick up the pace.

  We started jogging and then flat out ran to the depot when they kept pace. We avoided territory staked out by other Clans by staying in the wide-open areas between Blocks. The depot was hard to miss. If there hadn’t been a melee when I first arrived, I would have seen it. The sand-colored walls enclosed racks and racks of empty shelving that stood in rows down the warehouse-sized depot. We shut the heavy double doors and locked ourselves inside.

  “Do you know those guys?” My voice was strained from the run and the panic.

  “Yeah,” Simon said. “They’re some of Lenny’s old crew.” His voice was even more wheezy than mine. “Block B must have taken them in. They’re not very nice.” Simon dragged an empty rack over, metal screeching against concrete, and braced it against the door. I reached out to lightly check on our followers. They were gathered in the open space where the fight had gone down.

  “They’re waiting for us to come out,” I said. “They’re planning to attack us then. They want to take us prisoner, not kill us.” They really wanted to take me prisoner, not so much Simon, but I left that part out.

  Simon straightened. “How do you know that?”

  Oops.

  “How do you think?” I retorted. Simon may be on my side for the moment, but I wasn’t on a sharing-secrets basis with him, even if he had saved me from Molloy’s wrath. Simon shook his head and searched for other things to stack against the door. He settled on an empty 55-gallon drum that he wheeled over and shoved against the rack.

  “So, are we going to hole up here until they go away?”

  Simon brushed the dust from his hands and opened his mouth to answer, then sagged toward the ground. I lunged forward and barely got my arm under him to keep him from cracking his head on the concrete floor.