by Sean Platt
Sebastian hated this place.
He wanted to raze it to the ground, but this was home to the world’s most unfortunate; destroying it would only mar their hellscape further.
He wondered if his disgust resembled what people from the Coalition Cities felt when coming to The Slums. If it’s what Richmond, who’d lived a mostly pampered life as a politician’s son before everything went bye-bye, thought of Sebastian’s home.
They entered a long, dark metal corridor.
Slum Lord stopped, suddenly certain that this was an ambush.
“Come.” The girl stopped, waiting for him.
If Yugo wanted him dead, he’d have drawn his last breath already. Might as well go.
At the end of the tunnel was a flickering torch mounted beside a muscular man in his mid-thirties. He wore all black, including the mask over his mouth and nose. He stepped away from the red door behind him, patted Slum Lord down, then nodded for him to enter.
The girl waited.
It was a small room. Metal walls dressed in graffiti, with a couch and nothing more. A door led to a room in the back, maybe a bedroom, but it could have been the rest of this makeshift house. The room was mostly shadows, the only light pouring through a filthy window with an actual screen and a grimy view of the garbage mountains.
Two kids on the couch. A boy around twelve, wearing an oversized bright yellow tracksuit and lots of jewelry, next to a girl no more than fifteen or sixteen, in a silk robe with nothing underneath. Their pupils were large and dark.
A bowl of pink leaves — Pillar — rested between them. The girl looked Sebastian up and down, smiling flirtatiously.
The kid nodded at the girl.
She got up and went through a rear door into an adjoining room.
“So,” the kid said in a raspy voice, “you’re Slum Lord?”
“You’re Yugo?”
“Yeah. Why’d you come here?”
With nowhere else to sit, Sebastian stayed standing.
“I want to make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” The kid rolled up a leaf and put it under his tongue, then offered one to Sebastian.
He shook his head. “I want you to stop selling drugs in The Slums.”
“I’ve more than enough customers here.” He smiled. “No need for The Slums.”
“Two of your men firebombed my hotel. You going to say that wasn’t you?”
“That wasn’t me.”
Slum Lord sighed. He wanted to wipe the smug smile from his face, preferably for good. He could easily kill the kid. Escape might be a different story.
Slum Lord stared, not saying a word, knowing it would eventually unsettle him.
“Fine. It was me,” Yugo said. “I got your attention, no?”
He laughed. “You have my attention. But I’m not sure you want it.”
“You threatening me in my home?” Yugo scowled, looking like he might call for the help waiting right outside.
“You firebombed mine.” Then gentler: “I’m not here to retaliate. This time. Fortunately for you, no one was hurt.”
“Except for the two of my men you hung in your city.”
“Why attack us? I had been more or less looking the other way even though your men were selling drugs on our turf. Why escalate?”
“Why poach what isn’t yours?”
“What?”
“Coming in here, snatching up kids and women, pimping them out.”
“Your prostitutes?” Sebastian asked.
“I don’t run whores. They work for themselves. They don’t need your people pimping them in The Slums.”
“So, why’d you attack me? I don’t run prostitutes.”
“I want Rosalita free,” Yugo said.
“Who is that?”
“Her little sister.” Yugo nodded toward the other room.
“Her little sister? How old is Rosalita?”
“Twelve.”
Fucking Hobarth!
“How will I recognize her?”
“She looks just like a younger version of her sister, but with one blue eye and the other one brown. Hey, Maritza, come here. Let the man see what you look like so he can find your sis.”
She came back out, now dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, ready for bed.
Sebastian nodded. “There anybody else you know taken by The Slums?”
“Not still alive, I don’t. After a few months, we find their bodies in the trash.”
“Fuck.”
“And you all look down on us.”
“Can you find my sister?” Maritza asked.
“I will.” Sebastian turned to Yugo. “Will you stop selling in our territory?”
“Yeah.” Yugo stood and offered his hand. “We got a deal, then?”
He looked even younger when upright, short and thin in his oversized clothes. Slum Lord could solve his problem immediately, and without further effort. But that would be the wrong thing to do.
So he shook Yugo’s hand and said, “We have a deal.”
Twenty-Five
Richmond Freeman
Richmond and Olivia stood in the conference room outside the mayor’s office as the man — who reminded Richmond of a traveling salesman in his blue suit and red tie — entered carrying the brown leather briefcase Richmond hadn’t seen since before the world ended.
“Hello. My name is Mr. Kind. I’m here on behalf of Stratum Industries.
Medium build, slightly overweight with graying hair and a plain, albeit doughy face. If not for his briefcase and suit, and perhaps his tinted sunglasses, the man might be entirely forgettable.
He offered his hand to Olivia first, then to Richmond.
Firm grasp, big fake smile, and soft hands that had never known work.
“Please,” Richmond said. “Come in and sit.”
Olivia sat next to Richmond with Mr. Kind seated across the way at a conference table with room for twelve.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Richmond nodded toward the bar.
“No. Thank you. I just drank more than my share of water after my ride here.”
He sat the briefcase on the table, as though he might open it and show them what was inside.
Olivia asked about his ride as Richmond stared at the briefcase.
He had a flashback of Stratum’s soldiers opening fire that night, his father shielding him with his body. Seeing his mother slaughtered alongside so many others. There might be a gun inside that briefcase.
Guns had been gone for a while. Ammo went fast in those first few months, then the cities got together to outlaw and destroy them after that.
What if Stratum still has guns?
How the hell will we fight them off if they want to take over?
A hand grabbed his arm, jolting Richmond back into the present.
“Are you okay?” Olivia asked, her eyes narrowing on him.
“Yes.” He stood and went to pour himself a whiskey. “Sorry. I’ve got a bit of a hangover.” He poured himself a drink. Took a gulp to calm his nerves before sitting back down. Then he offered Mr. Kind his very best smile. “So, what brings you to Hope Springs?”
“I have an offer for you.”
“Oh?” Richmond felt his body stiffen.
“Stratum would like to mine the burn beneath Hope Springs. In exchange, we’re ready to make your city what I feel is an excellent offer.”
Richmond was already thinking no, but he bit his tongue, ready to hear what the man had to say. “And that would be …”
“We can upgrade your solar technology, provide you with newer, longer-lasting batteries with far more capacity, our latest scientific advances in medicine and … fertility treatments.”
“Fertility treatments?” Olivia played her hand. Too much interest, and far too fast. Usually she concealed her interests better than this.
“Stratum has spent years figuring out the causes of infertility and stillbirths in the world. Our population of children in Stratum is thriving.”
&n
bsp; “Children?”
“More than fifty babies born in the last four years alone.”
“Fifty?” Olivia gasped, hand over mouth. “How?”
“I’m not a doctor, so I can’t give you the specifics, but we have indeed cured the problem that has plagued our planet since before The Event. Repopulation is part of the reason we’re here. Stratum has more people than resources. In the past fourteen years, our women have given birth to more than one hundred and sixty children. We can help you.”
His you made Richmond wonder if Mr. Kind knew that Olivia and he had been desperately trying for another child … like almost every woman here.
Still, Richmond didn’t trust him. He seemed to know so much more than he should.
Have they infiltrated Hope Springs without us knowing?
“What happened to your burn?” Richmond asked. “There are a ton of burn mines in the mountains nearest to you.”
“Yes, but The Ruins have encroached deep into our mine system, rendering large swaths unusable. We would be digging north of Hope Springs, nowhere near the city proper, but we figured asking beat assumption.”
“And how would you transport the burn back to Stratum?”
“By boat northward. From there, by rail.”
“So your railroads still work?”
“Yes, sir. Our contract would be two years with an option for either side to renew in the future.” He tipped his chin. “But I believe this is a big win-win for us all.”
“I need to think about it.”
“Of course.”
“Even if I like the idea, I need to speak to my council.”
“Absolutely. But there is one more thing.”
Richmond raised his eyebrows.
“We’re prepared to remove the mines in the NorthVale pass, so people will no longer be required to circle the shanty town. This will cut travel time down to a fraction, and you’ll have far less merchants and travelers abducted or killed by the shanty town bandits.”
“Thank you.” Richmond nodded. “I will take this to my council.”
“I head back to Stratum tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? You can’t just show up and expect me to stop everything and schedule an emergency council meeting!”
“What is this, if not an emergency?” Mr. Kind smiled.
Olivia put her hand on Richmond’s under the table. “We will have an answer for you by tomorrow, Mr. Kind.”
“Thank you, mayor and vice mayor.” He stood and grabbed his briefcase from the table.
Olivia walked him to the door. Richmond stayed seated. Staring in disbelief.
She closed the door and started walking back to him. “What?”
“Why did you answer for me?”
“We are a partnership here. Do I need your permission to speak now?”
“Of course not. But I wish you’d not appeared so eager about the fertility treatment. You’re a better strategist than that.”
Olivia folded her arms.
Richmond stood and went over, trying to hug her despite the wall. “I don’t like seeing people exploit you like that.”
“Exploit me?”
“He’s preying on your hunger to have another child.”
“My hunger? So you don’t want another now?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. But … I don’t know. Something feels off about him and I hate the way he was looking at you like a mark to prey on.”
“Nobody’s preying on me, Richmond.” Olivia pulled roughly away from him. “I’m not letting some asshole come in here making promises without investigating. Do you really think I’m going to hand our burn to those people after a few sweet nothings? Hell no, we need proof. But, at the same time, I won’t permit our hatred of Stratum to cloud our vision so much that we fail to capitalize on a mutually beneficial relationship. I say we call a Small Council meeting for tomorrow morning, closed door. No need to address the public yet.”
“Fine,” Richmond agreed.
Olivia left the room.
Richmond went to his office, sat at the desk, and reached into the drawer where he found his pouch of Pillar.
He rolled up a couple of leaves and put them under his tongue.
He leaned back to bliss out, still wondering what the hell was in that briefcase.
Twenty-Six
Johan Pascal
It was Val’s idea to have Olivia and Elijah over for dinner.
Pascal thought it might be too soon, that Charlotte needed more time to adjust, but he wasn’t the expert and thus didn’t fight it.
They arrived about an hour before the meal started. Charlotte was upstairs in the guest room, where she’d been reading most of the afternoon.
Pascal was in the kitchen when they knocked, adding final spices and another splash of wine to his sauce.
Val opened the door to greet them.
“Hello, how are you?” Olivia’s voice was warm and almost melodious, a far cry from her usual icier and often indifferent tone.
Pascal dropped the lid on his pot and entered the living room to see Olivia and Val embrace like old friends.
He knew they occasionally spoke, but didn’t know they were close.
Olivia turned and gave him the warmest smile she’d ever given him. Then she hugged him. “Hello, Pascal. It’s so good to see you.”
“Let me show you around the place,” Val said ahead of their living room tour.
“Ooh, I love the flowers,” Olivia told her.
“I’m not here too often, but I’m trying to make it less sparse. Add some color.”
Olivia laughed.
Pascal didn’t remember ever hearing the vice mayor laugh. Not that he saw her away from her official role all that often.
Elijah, seeming to notice Pascal’s confusion, whispered with a smile, “She’s in a great mood today.”
Pascal smiled. “How’s it going?”
“Okay, I guess. When are you coming back?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Did you really go into The Slums all by yourself?”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, right.” Awe found his face. “What’s it like in there?”
Olivia and Val returned from their tour.
“You don’t need to worry about that place, Eli,” Olivia said.
“I’m just asking,” Elijah whined.
Val asked Olivia if she’d told him about their guest. She had, and added that Elijah would be on his best behavior.
“I’m not worried about him.” Pascal nodded at Elijah. “You’ve got a good kid.”
“See? Pascal agrees. I’m awesome.”
Olivia said, “Good is one thing, but you’re not ready to go on a mission.”
“Mission?” Pascal repeated.
“I want to go on a patrol mission,” Elijah said.
“And I told him he’s not even close to ready. He should be glad we’re letting him join the Cadets. Even though he most certainly did not get my permission.”
Pascal already knew his parents hadn’t approved, but cast a disappointed look at Eli, anyway. “I do not appreciate being lied to. If you want me to trust you enough to eventually take you on missions, you need to earn it.”
“Yes, sir,” Elijah said, staring down at the table.
Pascal put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be in such a rush to grow up. Being an adult means responsibilities and people expecting stuff from you all the time. Enjoy your youth while you have it.”
Only after the words were all gone from his mouth did Pascal consider the boy’s situation. As the son of both the mayor and vice mayor, life’s expectations heaped upon him, by his parents — his mother, mostly — and by his peers. Elijah was already feeling the pressure; this was his response.
There was a sound at the top of the stairs. Charlotte standing with Val.
Elijah’s eyes brightened. There weren’t many teenagers in Hope Springs, let alone girls close to his age.
Val introd
uced everybody.
Charlotte nodded, arms crossed, not extending her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte,” Olivia said.
“Thank you,” she shyly replied.
Elijah smiled. “Hi.”
Charlotte nodded and whispered “Hello” in return.
“Elijah here is a Cadet, one of our best with the staff,” Pascal told her.
“Really?” Charlotte asked.
Elijah blushed. “I’m alright.”
“He’s being modest. Charlotte’s been training for a while. She just got a new staff made by Declan.”
“He makes the best ones,” Elijah said. “Are you going to join the Cadets?”
She looked at Pascal.
“Maybe after she gets comfortable here, if she wants,” he answered for her. Then, hoping it wasn’t a bad idea: “We have a while before dinner. Why don’t you give Charlotte a tour of Hope Springs … if she wants.”
She looked anxious and Pascal was afraid he screwed up.
“We could go with you while Pascal finishes making dinner,” Val suggested.
Charlotte nodded. “I’d feel more comfortable if you came, too.”
Any offense and Elijah kept it hidden in his smile.
“Do you mind if I stay here?” Olivia asked. “Pascal and I have some things to discuss.”
“No problem at all.”
Alone with Pascal, Olivia’s smile retreated.
He went into the kitchen and started stirring his pot.
Olivia followed. “Mind if I pour myself some wine?”
“Go for it,” he said without looking at her.
She did, then she gave him an update — the girl at Callan’s Corner, Stratum Soldiers looking for her, a man named Mr. Kind making the city an offer.
“So what do you think?” Olivia asked when she finished.
“What does it matter what I think? I’m not on the council.”
“You have a level head. You don’t let your emotions overrule your logic. Sometimes Richmond asks for your advice.”
“So, you want to know if I’m going to agree with you or him? And if I side with him, then you want to change my mind beforehand?”
