Frey pointed at the package. “That.”
“Cell gen pills.”
“Cell gen?” Frey asked.
“It’s what we call the pills. They specify in cell generating to prolong life, cure diseases and so on,” Lallie said.
Frey just looked at them, dreading the answer, but asking anyway. “Are you all taking it?”
“It’s part of everyday life here, Frey. There’s no one who don’t,” Jon said.
There’s something not right about this… “They give you cells…”
“Cell gen pills, yes.” Harry answered her.
“What’s in them?”
“The repairing cells,” Tina said, hands behind her head.
“Actually, now that you mention it, we don’t have a written formula of what’s inside them. It would be fun to fins out,” Lallie said and nudged her twin in the ribs.
“We could always pop one under the radar and check,” he grinned back. He stood up then. “Any more questions that can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Meeting ended, then.” Luke turned to Tina. “You take four runners with you and get things running at that end.” Tina made no objections and got to her feet, Harry and Lallie following to continue their work. “Jon could give you a visual view of the city. We can manage without you guys for a while.” Luke gave Frey a heavy pat on the shoulder on his way out.
“I thought I couldn’t leave the building?” Frey asked Jon as they made their way to the elevator again.
“Too risky,” he agreed. “But the view from the rooftop is pretty good when you’re standing at the edge.”
She and Jin had five brutes after them. It had been bad luck. Wrong place at the wrong time. Rookies from the west district wanting to try out their new guns. They were the dangerous once. They didn’t mind wasting bullets.
They escaped without more than a few bruises from escaping down the sewers, close to east district. Even rookies knew not to follow into other gang territory.
Worming their way up from the stink of the underground, they exited close to the scrap yard. A big parking lot lay just a few hundred meters to their left. Frey pried the doors of a jute open. The car was missing its tires, remaining permanently parked on its spot. The windows were tinted grey-black, dust and grime coloring the jute inside and out.
As soon as they slammed the doors shut, their panting seemed like the only sound in the world. Frey leaned her head back, closing her eyes, forcing deep breaths through her nose and out her mouth.
Her tense body started to relax and she felt the sweat run down her face and back. Sweat were leaving streaks on Jin’s dirty face too. He started laughing. It was born from tension, but eased into the pure delighted of having escaped from deaths clutches. Frey joined him.
After the laughter died out, they sat silent for a while, their bodies reminding them of the sleep they both sorely needed. Jin reached for her hand. They fell asleep, dust and dirt shutting out the digital sky.
Frey woke up with her hand outstretched, still almost feeling his fingers in hers. The carpet was also too soft, but the wall at her back at least gave her a sense of security. Old habits die hard. She wiped her eyes and got dressed, pushing the warmth of Jin’s hand form her mind.
Chapter 11
There was no one else at the rooftop, not that she could see anyway. She lay down and could already feel her mind reeling for stable ground. The questions were piling up again and these were questions none from the group below could answer.
Her thoughts went to Father Patrick and the kids, wondering how they were doing. Then, her thoughts wandered to Jin, wondering what was she going to do? Those people from Dome were looking for her and she knew it was only a matter of time before they found some tracks that lead them here. If there was something you learnt in Slum City, it was that you are never safe. She was on the outside now, in a totally alien place.
She needed to help the resistance stop Dome… If I could somehow shut off the digital projection of the dome. She knew the people from Slum City. If there was just a push in the right direction there was sure to be a riot. And that could work to their advantage.
Frey could see the package in her mind’s eye as it came floating down on its small parachute, humans already fighting each other to death to get to it first.
As the screeching triumph music faded away, she felt an idea start to take shape.
She could provoke a riot in Slum City from the outside…
Frey sat up as it all became clearer, the pieces falling in place fast. What she had to do was make sure there was something extra included in the package, something to get people thinking.
There was only one thing in the dropping the majority fought for, and if she wanted to send a message to them, then it had to be through the Yellow Pill…
She couldn’t hold back a startled yell when a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. Before she had the time to get to her feet, Luke calmed her with his deep-set voice.
“God, you scared me!” Frey said, glad she hadn’t had the time to react defensibly against the giant.
Jon came up behind Luke, hands in his pockets, a half grin on his lips.
“Thought you might be here,” he said.
“I’ve something to tell you. It’s an idea I just got.” She got up, heading back towards the elevators. Frey let the silence grow as the doors closed, sorting out the best way to start explaining. She took a short breath and rubbed her forehead. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I think we need to involve the people in Slum- in Hole. If we can start to wind them up and get them to think…“
“They might question more…”
“If everyone started to ask at the same time, they wouldn’t be so visible. There would be security in numbers,” Frey said.
Jon looked at the ground, his hand rubbing his chin. “But how would we be able to find something that’s strong enough to make them speak out? And Frey… even if we did find something, how the hell are we going to reach them?”
“That’s the thing! We don’t need to reach them. We only need to reach the drop. If we could get to them, then we can include a message.”
Luke frowned, his big arms crossed over his chest. “The drop?”
“She means the packages.” He turned back to Frey. “From what little Chris have found out about them, they are called maintain packages.”
Frey felt herself go cold. “Maintain?” She actually laughed, hard low with no humor or warmth. “How could the Yellow Pill be associated with maintenance?”
“The Yellow Pill?”
Frey forced her anger down. These two were not responsible for the things that had happened to her. She breathed out deeply. “It’s a drug that’s included in the drop,” she said with every ounce of composure she could muster. “The drug consumes up the user. It wastes them away to nothing over time. It makes the person violent and very unpredictable. It’s a drug, and the majority of the people of Slum City are addicted to it.” Frey said.
The silence that followed was intense. You could see every muscle in Luke’s arms strain and Frey was again glad that the big man wasn’t her enemy.
Jon was clenching his hands, knuckles white.
Luke looked off at nothing. His rumbling voice vibrating slightly through the ground and into Frey’s chest. “Jon. Didn’t Stanly tell us that the pill production going to Dome now make up more than half the total product export in the whole factory?”
Jon looked at his big friend. “He did… That mean they use those pills in Hole.”
Frey was lost. “Stanly’s another Intel I’m guessing?”
“Stanly work at Base, where pills are manufactured. All pill production is done there.”
Frey shook her head in disbelief. “So this guy has a physical access to the pills?”
Luke nodded. “He works on ground level on both floors, meaning he’s physically walking around among the machinery, making sure they are all in order.”
Frey wasn’t surprised. “Would he be a
ble to… alter the pills? Change something on them?” She asked.
“You mean like the color?” Jon asked her.
“Not the color, I was thinking something else.”
“He should be able to adjust the information as he wants. No one’s looking over his shoulder. The government seems to think the fewer who are involved, the better,” Luke said. “What was it you were thinking about changing?”
The memory of little Tim was still all too clear in her mind. His body shaking, blood running down his nose and ears, splattering on the floor, the man calmly walking out even though he had just murdered a child…
She could have been the next one in that chair, having no idea that his blood had just spilled over the floor, no idea that she was about meet the same fate.
But that hadn’t happened. She had escaped, she had managed to get out. For the first time things felt possible. Slum City was like one of the broken buildings, fighting gravity but ready to crack and collapse at any minute. All they needed was a push…
“I want him to add a barcode on every pill.”
“Barcode?” Jon said.
Frey nodded.
“They were used on products before,” Luke explained.
“The people know the Yellow Pill inside out in Hole. Anny changes will be noticed.” Frey didn’t know how people would react to the Yellow Pill suddenly looking like a product, but hoped it would rattle the place well enough that the bottled suppression would finally burst open, collapsing the walls that kept the people from questioning.
The elevator doors opened and Frey bent over from the weight of Luke’s hand on her shoulder.
“It’s the best idea I have heard in a good while.”
Jon grinned at her, like Jin used to. “It is,” he agreed.
“By the time the pills leave the Base they’re packed. And all the work is done by machinery, so if anyone in Base or Dome would notice, the pills would already be in Hole and it would be too late for them to stop it,” Jon said.
Frey felt a small tug at the edge of her lips, recognizing it as a smile. It felt like an eternity since she had smiled last.
“Leave it to Luke to get a hold of Stanly.” Jon turned to the big man. “You think we could get a sample from whatever it is they are sending to Hole? I think it’s time we found out what’s inside it.”
“Luke, we have to get a hold of that pill. Can you get a hold of Stanly tonight and get the branding ready? I’m getting a hold of Joy. She can help us with figuring out what's inside the drug,” he said while walking backwards towards some stairs she had not spotted before then.
Frey followed as Luke updated the others on what had been said.
We’re finally moving forward…
Chapter 12
Jin sat up with a start. It was cold and he was wet. The broken sunscreen had done little to keep the dripping of some broken pipe off him, and he swore as he struggled to his feet, his stiff joints complaining with flashes of pain.
He pulled his soaked jacked closer, thrusting his hands under his armpits to try and keep warm. He knew he had to get moving or he would stay cold until he got a fever.
His clothes clung to his body, his pants slapping uncomfortably against his ankles. His head already started to pound from the lack of the Yellow Pill. Now he was all out again and knew Big T would want him to do another round to pay for a couple more. He’d no choice. It was do the work, or go without.
As usual, he suppressed the voice, telling him to stop now, before it was too late. After a while it went away, leaving a stronger headache in its wake. The voice always belonged to Frey. Oh, that’s right. I was looking for Frey yesterday. Then I couldn’t find her and I… and I sat down for a while.
He looked around himself. He knew where he was. He passed the familiar stores and the tiny sewer opening where he and Frey had hid when they had still been small enough to fit.
Before he knew it, he was staring up at the tall black building of the orphanage. He hadn’t been here in a long time. But where else could she be? He had looked everywhere. Father Patrick will know where she’s at. He wondered if Father Patrick even wanted to speak to him after all this time. Only one way to find out.
He hammered the door and heard a window screech open shortly after. Jin leaned back and looked up to see Kirk lean out the window.
The boy squinted into the darkness. “Who is it?” He yelled.
“Kirk! It’s Jin! Open the door, its damn cold!”
“You swore!” Kirk yelled back, slamming the window shut. Jin hoped Kirk wouldn’t leave him standing outside.
The door opened a crack. Jin shoved it inwards, making Kirk loose his balance and fall on his bony behind. Jin locked all the familiar locks as if it had been yesterday.
Kirk jumped to his feet and pointed at Jin. “You swore!” He yelled again before running off, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. Jin shuddered as he remembered he had also run barefoot once.
There were several doors on each level, but he passed them all, wondering if Father Patrick still stayed at the top floor. He knocked on the tattered doorframe and waited until he heard a mumbled reply to enter.
Father Patrick was bandaging the arm of a little girl. Her cheeks were wet from crying, and her big, puffy eyes looked up at Jin. Father Patrick barely glanced at him. “Now, this is to be kept dry, and stay on. I don’t want to see you picking at the stitches to show the others, is that clear?” The little girl sniffed and nodded. He gave her a warm smile. “Alright then. Off you go.”
She bounded off, and Jin was reminded of how simple things could be in a child’s world, even when everything around you looked like it did.
Jin stood in the doorway, suddenly feeling like six years old again. Father Patrick leaned back. Sat there and just looked at him. Jin knew there was no fooling him. He could see what Jin had become, even if it was still early on and the signs weren’t great.
After some time the old man just gave a big sigh and stood up. There was a blanket over the back of the chair and he held it out to Jin. “Take off your cloths and wrap yourself in that. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.” Father Patrick moved to the door. “I’ll go get us some tea.” He left Jin standing there, trying to remember why he had come. He didn’t deserve the mans pity.
But he still stripped and gratefully wrapped the big blanket around himself. It was scratchy as hell, just as it always been and he took a strange comfort in that.
It only took a few minutes before he was back with two chipped and mismatching cups, and a big pot of light brown tea. He felt the warmth spread into his skin, holding the cup closer to his frozen face to cherish the heat. His headache was receding and he was relaxing. He looked up at Father Patrick over the rim of the cup. “Thank you,” Jin said.
Father Patrick grunted as he put down the pot. “You know you’re always welcome here, Jin. I tell all of you that.”
“Yes… but not when we’re-“
“Which you’re not. Not right now anyway.”
That was one of the rules. You could always come back to visit you foster family whenever you wanted, but you had to be sober.
“We’ve missed you.”
Jin didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing for a while. He sipped his tea, his thumb stroking the edge. “So… how’re the kids doing?”
“Good. Better than I would’ve thought, since food is even more scares than normal.” He was silent for some time. “By the way, Jin. You haven’t seen Tim around, have you?”
“No. I haven’t.”
“He’s usually not gone this long.” He shook his head before bringing the cup to his lips. “He’s probably doing just fine, but let me know if you see him, okay?”
Jin nodded. Tim, that little rascal. Tim was much like him when he had been a boy. Running around were he shouldn’t, talking to people he shouldn’t bee talking to. “So you’ve got enough food, then?”
Father Patrick grunted. “If only she would listen to w
hat others told her once in a while.”
Jin smiled a crooked smile at the table. “Yeah, she’s something, eh?”
Father Patrick smiled and nodded. “She truly has a big heart, but I keep telling her not to put herself in danger! She won’t listen. I know the risks she takes, that daredevil.”
Jin chose not to enlighten Father Patrick on exactly how she had gotten most of the food. Better not to. “So you’ve heard from her?” He sighed in relief, not waiting for a response. “I’ve looked everywhere for days. Where is she?”
Father Patrick shook his head with a frown. “I haven’t seen her... And she hasn’t been with you?”
Jin leaned back. “Ah, no, I thought… I thought I she might have passed through here.” His thumb pressed against the chipped edge and he bit his lip. “She’s bond to be helping some poor bugger somewhere.” He didn’t voice his worries. He could see Father Patrick was worried already. “Don’t worry. She’s off doing another mission somewhere. You know how she is. I’ll go look at the scrap yard,” Jin said, preparing to put his tea down, shuddering at the thought at pulling his wet clothing back on.
Father Patrick held up a hand to stop him. “You’re not going anywhere in soaked clothes and shuddering from cold. Stay the night, in the morning they’ll be dry and you won’t go get sick, and I won’t have to worry that you have.” He poured another tea for Jin and he relaxed, the warmth stretching to every corner of his body.
Jin couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this…
He felt dry and warm. He felt better than he had in a very long time. He suspected there had been something in the tea. His headache was almost gone, and for the first time in weeks he didn’t feel the burning longing for the Yellow Pill that had always been his constant companion since a while back.
Jin walked down the narrow street, wrecked cars lining the sidewalk. A couple of hunching shapes squatted beyond them. Other than that, it was unusually quiet. He strolled past a broken doorway and sidestepped the waterfall escalating down the broken drainpipes.
The Yellow Pill Page 8
