Golden Dreg Boy, Book 1

by D. K. Dailey

  Saya slinks out of her hiding place. Standing over the guard, she kicks his gun out of reach. He doesn’t want to die. Neither do I. Not over a food truck.

  I examine everyone with a preliminary glance. No one’s hit on our side.

  Yimi points his gun at the back of the guards’ heads with a surprisingly steady hand for such a young kid, and Zee moves in front of them. The men march in step with Yimi as he orders them to drop their guns and sit on the ground.

  Where’s the fourth guard? I sneak a peek over Isa’s shoulder. He’s hiding in a corner where the dock meets the open building. Suddenly, he dives and rolls onto the ground. I motion to Isa. Four fingers in the air, then one pointing toward the guards.

  Understanding fills her eyes. I watch him closely while Isa approaches Rigo, yelling, “Fourth guard’s behind that machine.”

  He looks around frantically. “Come out with your hands up, and we won’t hurt you.”

  With his back to me, the guard shimmies out of his hiding place. Weaponless like me. His hand jerks back like he’s pitching a baseball, and then he throws something.

  I recognize what he’s holding at exactly the same moment Saya shouts, “Grenade!”

  Forget the gun I don’t have. A grenade is worse than a measly gun.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The grenade lands a few feet away, near one side of the truck. Rolling downhill, it bumps along the rough concrete. No detonation, so I know from playing digital games that it’s not an impact grenade. That means I have two to six seconds to throw it back or run like cuckoo.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and my first impulse is to run. But thinking is not my strong suit right now. The black-and-green grenade stops next to my hand, and a hissing sound erupts.

  Without hesitation, I pick it up and throw it behind us, toward the gate. Everyone else has run for cover already, but I stay by the truck. The blast won’t reach me here.

  Boy, am I wrong. The gate where the guard booth is located explodes, sending shards of debris everywhere. The blast deafens. Rolling under the bubble is my only protection.

  I lose track of everyone. Occurring in slow motion, like our brains need time to digest, these moments are filled with pleasure, pain, or chaos suspended in space and time.

  Lying on the concrete, safe beneath the bubble, I’m full of hope.

  I hope the team still has the guards secured and the grenade didn’t foil our mission.

  I hope we can still get out the way we came.

  I hope I didn’t wreck the gate completely.

  And I hope the fourth guard…

  Someone grabs my hand from the other side of the bubble. I lift my head above the ground so my face doesn’t get scraped. Not a girl’s touch. Not a helping grip. Unbending, it tugs me over the rough concrete and rubble, scratching my neck and chest.

  The fourth guard pulls me to his side of the truck! Struggling, I grab at the debris and concrete with my fingertips, focusing only on resisting his strong pull. Face to face, we struggle.

  Suddenly, he stops tugging, and familiarity crosses his face. I peer into his eyes, and a breath catches in my throat. “Noodle?”

  “Kade,” he gasps.

  We stumble to our feet. My heart beats faster than I ever thought it could. Shouts arise around us, aimed at the guards: “Don’t move.” “Stay right where you are.”

  Far off someone yells, “Kade. Where’s Kade? Find Kade!” Then everything calms down in my head, like the foam in soda subsiding gently and combining with the liquid under it.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” I scowl at his guard uniform, which looks like the others. A black jumpsuit, except his has orange stripes. He’s training already. Can’t believe it’s already time for us to study our career fields.

  I lost track of time. I got arrested on May twenty-third, and a month has passed. Since Marcus’s father guards the premier, Marcus wants to do the same. His future is carved out, and his orange training stripes remind me that mine future has short circuited.

  “They said you died escaping.” He wraps his arms around me. A welcoming hug like he’s glad to see me, glad I’m alive.

  I died escaping? Just like Pike predicted. But why would the government put out a false story?

  Our hug is quick considering the circumstance. “How’s my family?”

  “Where you been, Kade?” he asks at the same time.

  “How’s my family, Noodle?”

  “They’re fine. Under a lot of scrutiny.” He blinks hard a few times like he’s got a twitch.

  “Ems?” I meet his eyes eagerly.

  “I see her at the rec center.” He gazes at the ground. “She plays alone with the digital dolls.” Now he looks up. “You know, after you left, more people died from the sectors. It wasn’t just Efren and Nell.”

  I shake my head, feeling the loss pull at my heart. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Why are you with Dregs? Are you one of them now?”

  “I’m staying with them.” I bite my lip. “For the time being.”

  His glance sharpens, but I shake off the look. “So, you are Dreg?” His face shutters, and he backs away.

  The word “lucky” floats into my mind. One of Noodle’s favorite words to describe me. “I really don’t know.” Emotions overwhelm me. Here, my past stares back from its dark hiding place. Will my life ever be the same? Will Noodle ever be my bestbud again?

  His eyes narrow in admonishment. “You never were sick. Never. And now…you must be Dreg if you have the gall to rob the government.” Hands trembling, he steps back a few more steps.

  I didn’t choose this life, and I’ve been trying to deal with it the best I can, trying to change my circumstances. But here stands Noodle, judging me. This isn’t the same guy who always looked up to me, who followed me around. Coldness trickles up my spine from the realization and the sudden noise erupting around us.

  Isa yells, “Put your hands up!”

  I stare at Noodle, hands now above his head.

  She circles the truck bubble with her gun in the air, and I put up my hands, too.

  “Not you, you doink.” Shaking her head, she motions for me to step away from the guard. To step away from Noodle.

  My pulse drums, circulating blood through my veins in erratic beats. Step away from Noodle. An easy request yet, for some reason, I can’t. My legs won’t budge.

  Standing between Isa and Noodle, I yearn for a link to my past. He stares, and I do, too. We share a long moment unmarked with words. He used to be my bestbud, my partner in crime. We built a zarding skate park together!

  Isa gives me a weird look, both inquisitive and alarmed. She thinks I might be in cahoots with Noodle and will turn on her any minute. Her hand trembles as she waits for me to move. Finally, I do.

  “You! Move toward the other guards.” She nods at Noodle.

  He moves, eyes flicking from me to her. We round the truck, where the others pack the cargo into the back of our bubble.

  “Kade, tie everyone up.” Stomping up to Noodle, Yimi slaps a strange-looking pair of e-cuffs on his wrists.

  “We’ve tied their hands already. Rigo’s orders.” Zee throws me the rope bag I lost earlier, and I move to tie the other three guards together around a large metal pole on the dock. After wrapping the longer rope around them, I check for slack. When I’m done, I walk to Noodle and find a smaller pole to tie him to, away from the others. I turn my back to the others. “I have to tie you up.”

  His jaw tightens.

  “Can you get a message to my dad for me?”

  “Only if you tell me why you’re doing this, man.” He peeks down at the rope wrapping around his body.

  Hearing him say “man” warms my chest, making me nostalgic. The others are busy loading boxes. Isa’s curious gray gaze stalls on me.

  I turn back around. “Dregs rescued me, like I said. They saved me from a death sentence. What was I supposed to do?�
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  “Who are you now?” His voice is full of disgust.

  “I’m Kade Shaw, but I’m doing what I need to do to survive.”

  His face pinches. “Your dad was cleared of charges. Why weren’t you?”

  I keep wrapping rope around his body. Each time I pull, I lean in closer. His heart beats as loudly as mine. “That’s what I’d like to ask him.”

  “If your dad couldn’t help, man, I can’t do anything now that you’re Dreg. I suggest you run and don’t get caught because,” his voice catches, “I don’t want to see you die. I can’t be your bestbud anymore. I just can’t. I’m in Sector Three, one sector—”

  Pulling the rope tighter like I did on the other guards crosses my mind, but I don’t. I stare into his eyes and finish his sentence. “I know, I know. You’re one sector away from the bottom.”

  And I am the bottom, I want to yell but don’t. I leave him slack on the rope and then slog back toward the others. He might not be my bestbud now, but I’m still his.

  “Good timing. We’re ready to go.” Saya climbs back into the driver’s seat.

  I pile back into our bubble with the others. All I want to do is get back to the center and settle down. Robbing the government and Dad’s building, surviving bullets whizzing everywhere and the grenade blast, and then seeing Noodle…It’s all too much.

  As we pull off, my bestbud tied to a pole is visible. I stare at his face until his features fade into the dark. The orange reflective stripes on his shoulders merge into the other colors in the dusk.

  He doesn’t accept me as a Dreg, which I get, although he should have given me a chance. He could have believed me innocent, but instead, he decided I was guilty because the government said so. What would I do in his kicks? I probably wouldn’t have believed me, either.

  I’m trying so hard to forget what I know. Will I ever see him again…as a Golden?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Saya and I stand in Pike’s room after the raid. I’ve got a hundred things on my mind, but what bothers me most is the space dividing Saya and I. My stance is loose, feet apart with one hand in my pocket. Pike rests on a stool behind his computer. I find him intimidating and elusive for the most part, but he doesn’t scare me.

  “Successful scavenge?” he finally asks, barely looking at us.

  “Yes,” she replies behind clenched teeth.

  “Any trouble?” He types, heavy fingers banging on the soft, pliable keyboard.

  “A little.” Her jaw tightens.

  What an incredible understatement. Pike looks up, his right eye narrowing at her.

  A little? That was a little trouble? What’s her definition of “a lot”? Shooting and a grenade detonation? That’s a little? Seriously? I look from Saya to Pike, waiting for him to question her. This should be interesting.

  “What’s a little?” He sets an elbow on the table, his hand under his chin, like a very interested kid in class.

  Smart man.

  Yeah, Saya, what’s a little? I crack a smile.

  “Nothing you should worry about. We intercepted the load with no injuries.”

  Animosity emanates from her like steam rising from a subway vent. Does she hate him? I know what it’s like at the receiving end of her hatred. Her standard treatment: tossing me an icy shoulder or a look, dealing out backhanded insults, hostile, short retorts. So, the behavior isn’t only reserved for me. I guess that’s promising.

  Pike scrutinizes her. His eyes sparkle with speculation, looking up and down as if studying a peculiar animal. Then he turns to me. “Something to add now that you’re one of us, son?”

  “Was the raid a test?” Wait! He’s never called me one of us before.

  Saya’s forehead wrinkles, and she interrupts. “A test? What kind of—”

  He nods at her. “You’re dismissed.”

  Snorting, she storms out.

  “Saya?” Pike calls. She turns in the entryway to face us.

  “Don’t go far. I’ll need you after Kade and I are through here.”

  Gritting her teeth, she walks out of the room. Her footsteps echo down the small hallway and into the main room.

  “What’s up with her?”

  “She’s still angry at me.” He rubs his beard, and his eyes skim over me before he changes the subject. “Yes, it was a test, and you did very well. You followed orders and completed the mission unharmed. You didn’t need a gun, and you fit right in with my best scavengers.”

  “About the gun thing.” I meet his eyes. “Are you really not going to give me one? I think that’s…well, plain dumb.”

  He clears his throat. “Dumb idea depending on who you ask. Give a kid a gun who doesn’t know how to handle it, and you’ve got a potential death. I’ve seen people fall on guns and shoot themselves by accident. Others were killed because they didn’t know the safety wasn’t on. Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.”

  “Nice speech, but I want a gun, especially if we’re robbing government facilities and cops and stuff.” I pause and hold on his gaze. “Especially if we’re going to my dad’s building.”

  “I’m sorry for not telling you beforehand. But I promise you, we won’t rob their food bubbles again.” Adjusting his seat, he takes a deep breath. “You were being tested. But I also tested my security system’s capabilities. I told you I’ve hacked into the government before. With this machine, I continue to invade their systems, and so far, I’ve gone undetected. I’m another private registered user under their government umbrella.” He gestures for me to join him at the computer. I don’t.

  “Why would you send me to my father’s building? Didn’t you think someone I knew would be there?” I hesitate and then decide to tell the truth. “My bestbud was there, in training. Did you know he was going to be there?”

  He nods slowly. “Yes.”

  “Then why send me? He’ll tell them I’m alive.”

  “He will.” Pike nods again.

  “That’s what you want?”

  “I need you at the forefront of our cause.”

  “But I want to be Golden again.” My voice fills with hope without me even trying.

  “Son, you’re not going to be Golden again. You can keep denying it or you can accept the truth.” He waves me over again. “If you’d come here, I could show you what I know.”

  I stare into his matching eyes. I don’t have many choices.

  “Please, Kade, I’ve only ever tried to help you.” The emotion behind his eyes seems real, so I walk over and stand to one side of him. He adjusts his stool to face the screen.

  “Do you see these numbers here?” He points to a group on the far right side of the screen: a long list with a few letters mixed in.

  “Took me a while to figure out the code.” He smiles proudly and then points to one sequence. “Date taken, date used, birth code which includes location, random numbers, and the birth day and year. For example: 4-4-5-5-SFXH-89423-07-04-2483…So they were taken April fourth and used May fifth.”

  He leans back on his stool. “What clued me in was the birth code. Our unique identifiers used to be called social security numbers. They’re programmed into our c-chips when we’re born.” Pausing, he looks up from the screen. “This is an accounting—or tally—of the Taken.”

  An accounting of the Taken. That sentence makes this all the more real, like being hit with a dam of truth. Truth I’m trying hard to poke holes into.

  Where were they taken and why? Why would the government need to take people? Will they give them back? Is it like finders-keepers—or rather takers-keepers, losers-weepers? Do they only take the sick and injured? Is there no return? Like being kidnapped and killed? By the government? No. They don’t take people, not unless they’ve committed crimes.

  “The government uses the Taken for medical reasons.” He types in a code. The screen switches to a medical report. “Seems like they’re kept for no longer than nine months before they’re used.”

  “Used?” My brow furrows.
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  The report looks familiar. I’ve seen stacks of them before on Dad’s desk. Suddenly, I feel chilled to the bone.

  “What kind of medical reasons?”

  “Like I told you, Goldens have lost their natural immunity to diseases. I guess they’re trying to figure out how Dregs have managed to remain insusceptible, building up their immune systems, becoming stronger by far.”

  He’s right about the immunity. Dad said the genome sequence was up and running and all of us would be tested. Pike’s figured out their plan. “Does anyone else know this info?”

  “No.”

  “Why would you trust me? The same reason you decided to save me?”

  “Yes,” he replies solemnly.

  “I grew up Golden, but even I know nothing’s free.” I try not to let the strain show.

  He shakes his head. “Yes, nothing is free, Kade. But I’m the one who owes you. It’s the least I could do.”

  How does he owe me? “I told you I can’t help you with the computer. You got it wrong. You know what you’re doing better than me anyway.”

  “Aside from the data I showed you, there’s other data I’ve analyzed.” He breathes in deeply as if what he’s about to say weighs on him. He rotates on his stool to face me. “Before the raids started, I tracked government representatives while they gathered info and tested citizens without their knowledge.”

  All citizens will be tested per your orders. I blink heavily, recalling Dad’s conversation with the premier.

  Pike stands. “They conducted tests to weed out people who had managed to steal Golden status.”

  “That’s a thing?”

  “I’ve known people who’ve done it, usually to receive care for diseases requiring regular medication.”

  “But how?”

  “That’s not the point. The majority of Dregs don’t go to hospitals because of our natural immunity to most diseases and because the hospitals are horrid. So, tests on us are rare. And three-dimensional printing works mostly, but it’s not been the solution they thought it would be. Printed organs and such don’t hold the,” he pauses, thinking perhaps of the right word, “stamina, the immunities, that Dreg organs do. I believe that’s why the raids started.”