“Uh-huh. Well, are they a book? ‘Cause we got books.”
“It looks like you’ve got a bit of a pest control problem as well.” Liam glared down his nose as a Pomeranian scuttled across his feet and kept going, pursued by a much larger Dalmatian. Neither one of them paid any more attention to him than the human at the front desk.
“Yeah, we do get the occasional pest in here,” came the reply, along with a thump of a heavy boot on the desk that made Liam jump. Then one big foot crossed over the other, settling into a more comfortable position. “But the dogs mostly take care of ‘em. Part library, part animal shelter.”
“Part resistance headquarters.” Liam smirked, anticipating his victory.
“Mmm, don’t know nothin’ about that one.”
“What?” Smirk quickly became scowl.
“Ain’t nobody here but us bookworms. And dogs. But no heartworm, or roundworm, just got everybody checked last week. Everybody’s healthy and happy! Aren’t we?” He directed his question to a Great Dane so tall he didn’t have to even look down as it passed by, giving his face a lick as it went. “Yeah, we are. Thanks, Daisy.”
“Oh, please.” Liam rolled his eyes so slowly and deliberately the man couldn’t possibly miss his disdain even while wiping the slobber from his face. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe this place isn’t a front.”
“Hey, you can believe anything you want. That’s what makes this place great. Even in Parole, it’s still a free country.” He paused before going back to his magazine. “I think. You know, Parole’s been officially cut off from the rest of the United States, technically we don’t exist—so does that make us our own sovereign country? Always kinda wondered about our political affiliations, or lack thereof. Good talk, good talk…”
Liam waited for several seconds but received nothing further. Finally, incredulous, he continued himself. “Everybody knows! All of Parole knows what goes on in the library!”
“Mm-hmm. Lots of reading. Very educational.” The man behind the desk nodded sagely and didn’t look up. “Learning’s so important, even in an awful place like this—no, especially here! Gotta make sure the children have a future.”
Liam leaned a bit closer and glanced around. “You know what I mean!”
The man looked up glancing around in a much more obvious manner, eyes going wide. “Yeah? Do I?”
“Do you what?”
“What?” His smile flashed brightly as the chain around his neck.
“I—secrecy! Covert operations! Right under SkEye’s nose! Brilliant, really!” Liam tried a flattering smile, but it just came out looking pained. “If you need help, you come here, and you ask, so I’m asking! And you have to give it to me!”
The library gatekeeper—Liam’s nemesis, as he was increasingly becoming—let his magazine drop at last, clapping his hand to his chest as if shocked. “I do?”
“Yes!” Liam’s face started to flush under its pallor. “You come here, and you ask for the goat!”
The young man’s broad shoulders shook as he let out a single, loud snort of laughter. “That some kind of code word, Buckaroo?”
“I…” Liam half-turned to glare over his shoulder, as if furious with somebody only he could see. “I know I’m at the right place. Now aren’t you rebel…liously hopeful, Good Samaritan sorts supposed to actually provide help and assistance to those who require it?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his feet the other way and turned a page. “So fiction’s over there, nonfiction’s over there, bathrooms are—”
“No.” Liam leaned forward, one hand flat on the desk, the other one grabbing the toe of the large combat boot currently pointing him away. “I don’t know how, but everything is connected. I’m right where I need to be. And I need to talk to whoever’s in charge here.”
“Easy there, Chief.” The man slowly lowered his magazine—then closed it. But he didn’t pull his foot out of Liam’s grasp. Instead he folded his arms, staring up at Liam with an entirely calm, heavy-lidded gaze. “No need to get all hot and bothered,”
“I am not hot and—” he sputtered, letting go, then lowered his voice. “I am not bothered. I am not hot, nor am I bothered. I am perfectly calm.”
The (impossible, unbearable) man nodded and smiled, blue eyes twinkling. Liam became dimly aware of a pounding in his temples and a low grinding noise. A moment later he realized it was his own teeth. “Whatever you say, there, Slick.”
“I’ve heard the hooves, they’re some kind of signal! They do mean something! It’s not just dogs you’re housing in here. This is a resistance headquarters stronghold, and I demand entry!”
“You’re really still gonna stick with that ‘goat’ thing?” The man’s white teeth flashed as he shook his head, and he exhaled another laugh. Liam’s hands clenched briefly—then he released them. He took a single, slow, deep breath, and let his head and shoulders slowly drop. When he spoke it was in his natural voice and without much hope.
“Just… answer my question. Is there, or is there not, more occurring in the walls of this establishment than meets the eye?”
“Well, sure.” That infuriating smile was gradually replaced by a surprisingly thoughtful expression as he studied Liam, hands folded with both index fingers raised to rest against his lips. “Isn’t there always in Parole?”
Liam did not answer or give an inch of ground.
Finally there was a loud thump of two heavy boots hitting the floor. “Ghost.’”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I think you mean ‘library ghost,’” the man said with a slight shrug, as if he’d weighed the options and decided to level with the stubborn customer. He was now sitting up straight and looking Liam in the eye, chair gently swiveling back and forth. “Not ‘goat.’ Place is haunted. Very common mistake, we get it all the time.”
“I… that’s ridiculous.”
“More ridiculous than it being a resistance headquarters led by a goat or something?”
“It’s almost as ridiculous,” Liam admitted with a sigh. “You’re really not going to tell me what’s going on here, are you?”
He spread his hands in a shrug, giving an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Charlie. Not my call.”
“Then there is something else going on here.”
“This is Parole, my friend.” He leaned down and picked up a fluffy mutt about the size of one of his boots, holding it to his chest and gently raising one of its tiny paws to wave at Liam. “Show me a place where the real action isn’t going on behind the scenes, and I’ll show you…” he glanced down at his small furry friend. “A dog. You want to pet a dog, Guy?”
“I beg your pardon?” Liam stared. If he hadn’t been incredulous to the point of feeling like this was all some kind of bizarre dream, he certainly was now.
“Ha, we discourage begging in this establishment.” He laughed at his own joke, then glanced down at the dog he held as if to check if it was laughing too. It wasn’t, but it seemed happy anyway as it licked his hand with the missing finger. “But seriously, you seem wound a little tight, there.”
“As you said, this is Parole,” Liam said stiffly. “Show me someone who isn’t. Ah, present company excluded,” he had to admit.
He shrugged, giving a little nod of acknowledgement. “And it’s probably from living here. Some people come to read, or just get some quiet in the one place that still exists, or just hang out with some good friends. So if you ever need any of the above…” he gestured to the large, warehouse-like space full of bookshelves, dogs, and strangely-calm-for-Parole people with his free hand. “We’ll be here.”
“Ah,” Liam frowned, but in a way that was less aggravated and more puzzled. “Well, I’m very… busy, but… I’ll…” He stopped, eyebrows raised, as if listening to something very important but inaudible to anyone else. “I’m not really a dog person,” he mumbled at last. “And I’m very busy.”
“Well, okay, if you ever get another free day from that place.” The man Liam w
as having trouble thinking of as his nemesis after all put the dog back on the floor, staying crouched for a second to pet its head and look up at Liam sideways. “Library isn’t going anywhere. If we’re lucky, I mean. You never know around here.”
“No, I suppose you never…” Wait. Liam stopped, a vertical line appearing between his eyebrows as they came together. “If I get a day free from… what place exactly?”
The man sighed and shook his head, though his smile wasn’t nearly as sarcastic as it had been before. If Liam hadn’t known better, he almost would have thought it was genuine. “It’s been a real pleasure talking with you, Mr. Turret.”
“You know who I—” He cut off his yell at the explosion of shushes. Liam shot a deadly glare over his shoulder but held his tongue, clenching his teeth. It was a library, after all. And he’d only draw more attention to himself. Instead he lowered his voice to a furious whisper. “You know who I am?”
“We know a lot of things here.” Slowly, the man stood up. Liam realized that during all this time, he’d never seen the ‘librarian’ standing. He kept realizing it as he kept looking up, and up.
“That’s why you wouldn’t let me in. You knew who I was the second I walked in this door.”
“One reason. Like I said, we know a lot of things.”
“Because you’re Parole’s resistance center.”
“Nah. Because we’re a library.”
“Ash!” Liam turned to see a small, compact-muscled figure in a black leather jacket striding toward them with quick, short-legged strides, wearing a large, black motorcycle helmet.
“Yes, Anh Minh?” The not-librarian said with a sudden air of exaggerated formality that was completely betrayed by the way his mouth tugged up into a smile. He couldn’t keep the straight face for more than a second, so he abandoned the attempt—along with his entire previous exchange with Liam. In a moment, everything was forgotten except for whatever this newcomer had to say, including Liam himself. “Do you have something to share with me?”
“You could say that,” came a girl’s muffled voice from inside the helmet.
“Excuse me…young lady?” Liam stared down at the much shorter helmet-wearer when she drew level with him. She stared back, and he saw his own mortified face reflected in the black visor. Then she reached up with short arms and pulled the helmet off, shaking out her straight black hair. Liam was not any less mortified when he saw who stood before him. He had never been comfortable around teenagers, even when he’d (allegedly) been one. Especially girls with unruly, punk-rock haircuts and too many metal rings in their ears. And did she have eyebrows? He didn’t think she did. Was this some new, terrifyingly rebellious teen fashion? “I was next in line here.”
“For what?” she asked, incredulity and vague suspicion slowly seeming to dawn. She shot a glance over at the man behind the information desk, who gave a slight nod in return. “Fiction’s over there, nonfiction’s over there, bathrooms are—”
“No, I was hoping for some… other…” He trailed off. She tilted her head and stared up at him with a sharply scrutinizing gaze, the same kind he’d caught behind the man’s—Ash, she’d called him—deceptively laid-back, smiling eyes. Hers weren’t as friendly. Most young peoples’ weren’t when they looked at him, but now Liam had the uncomfortable feeling he’d just been sized up for the second time. And no, definitely no eyebrows. “Never mind. I’ll find it myself.”
“Uh-huh.” She fiddled with one long strand of black hair that hung down to her jaw. The rest was flipped up in a long stripe down the center of her head, the sides shaved short. He was baffled. “Well, I wouldn’t wander around if I were you. They say this place is haunted.”
“Yes…I’ll keep that in mind.” He thought he could see in her dark eyes the exact moment she decided he wasn’t interesting or threatening enough to bother with, and a moment later she turned away. As soon as she was looking at Ash instead of him, her eyes lit up instead, followed by her entire face as she smiled, bouncing a bit on the balls of her black-booted feet as if unable to contain her excitement. Nobody ever looked at Liam like that.
“It’s done!”
“Done?” Ash wore a matching expression of anticipation. “Like, done-done? For real done, not ‘done but you’re gonna take another week of tweaking anyway,’ or ‘done but we should really let it sit overnight and make sure nothing’s fallen off in the morning’ or…”
“Oh, I dunno,” she said, casually brushing some imperceptible dust off her shining helmet. “Might still be a few bugs to work out…”
“I knew it. How many bugs?” He groaned. “Stop playing with my heart, Annie!”
She smirked. “None we can’t figure out on the road.”
“Seriously?”
“Test drive.”
“Oh, hell yes!” He vaulted right over the desk and Liam scrambled to get out of his way. So did several dogs, but they all seemed much more excited. “You’re sure, now? No more false alarms, this is for real?”
“Real as real can be,” Annie—Anh Minh, the girl now entirely ignoring an increasingly annoyed Liam— nodded, arms folded in satisfied triumph as she grinned up the much taller Ash, who was beaming right back down at her, his hands balled into excited fists as he practically bounced in his boots himself. “It’s even got the parental seal of approval. That was the hardest part, probably, took even longer than finding a working muffler.”
“We could have just asked Danae.”
“For a muffler, maybe, but we gotta put limits somewhere. Thing’s already jam-packed with enough of her magic that it’s barely even a machine anymore, I swear it’s alive as one of her pets.”
“Well, that can only be a good thing. Your parents definitely signed off on this?”
“Yep. Both Mom and Dad, because I’m responsible and mature and presented my arguments in a clear and logical manner.”
“Right. It just makes sense to let you ride around on a motorcycle we built in the garage. God, don’t even let me think too hard about this, okay? I might say no.”
“You’re the one who keeps asking when it’ll be done every five minutes!”
“That’s because I have no problem with me jumping over flaming chasms of death! But when my baby god-daughter does it, that’s when I start to have some nightmares, and an existential crisis or two.” He paused, not looking at all satisfied. “Maybe I’ll just talk to your parents again and make sure they know exactly what it is you’re—”
“Oh my God, stop worrying.” She rolled her eyes. “Do I have to give you the same speech? Big engines have been my thing since I was four. I rode my first ATV when I was eight. I’ve lived in Parole since the big bubble went up, nobody knows these streets like me, you need more people on the road, and Danae makes everything specifically to keep people alive. I’m safe!”
“Because who wouldn’t want their kid joyriding around a collapsing city on fire on a homemade motorbike? Anh Minh, seriously, if they come to their senses—if Duy does, let’s be real, because I can actually see Tam jumping a crater or two—promise me you’ll listen and—”
“I’m an experienced motorist and small auto expert, navigating familiar terrain with a specially-designed vehicle adapted for the setting, and my godfather’s with me.” She took a step toward the door, then looked back to see if he was following. He wasn’t, and she put her free hand on her hips. “You make everything sound so dramatic and terrible.”
“This is Parole. Everything is.”
“And now we have a motorcycle.”
“The streets are still crumbling, there's still fire underneath ‘em, and I’m still and I’m absolutely out of my mind to let you do this. And so are they!”
“Good thing it can fly. Also, it’s awesome.” With that, she stuck the helmet back on her head as if that settled everything. Liam couldn’t help making an incredulous noise.
“Point taken.” Ash shrugged, nodding. He hadn’t caught Liam’s scoffing commentary.
Annie had. �
��And I’m glad my parents are cool with it,” she said, voice casual as she very slowly turned to face Liam. “Instead of being like ninety percent of adults who think…whatever it is they think I’m gonna do? Drugs, no, sex, definitely not, no thanks. I don’t even know what some people think I’m going to get up to, I just wanna actually create something in this place, and have some fun.” As she spoke, she never broke her helmeted ‘stare’ at Liam. He could see his apprehensive face reflected in her black visor again. “It’s almost like they’re judging me before they know me or something.”
“Excuse me,” Liam blurted out, and Ash turned to look at him as well. From the surprise on his face, Ash had clearly forgotten he was there. “I—I’m certainly not judging anyone, and I hate to break up this… family outing? But I—”
“And I hate to cut this short.” Ash grinned at Liam now, throwing one arm around his shoulder and steering him toward the exit with a gentle but firm four-fingered grip. Liam sputtered wordlessly, every protest falling short, and on deaf ears as he found himself out in the entrance foyer before he knew what was happening. “But this has been actual months in the making! Can’t tell you how much we’ve been looking forward to it!”
“Yes—well, that’s—I’m—”
“So if you’ll excuse us.”
Despite his best efforts, Liam found himself passing one shelf after another, and the library’s double doors growing closer with every step. The second those doors shut behind him, he would lose his chance at getting into the library’s hidden recesses and finding out what secrets lay inside. He’d have to form a new plan, try an entirely new approach… and, failing that, start all over again at the front desk. He almost missed a step at the thought, narrowly avoiding falling flat on his face.
Life Within Parole Page 6
