“No, Sarge.” He offered Maya an almost apologetic shrug.
“You feel bad enough hearin’ that one carry on.” Sarge tapped his foot. “That’s the kind of guilt you can get over. An hour after we leave, she’ll forget us. Now imagine that little angel running at you with a grenade. You think the kinda guilt you’d have puttin’ a bullet in her heart is gonna go away with a beer or two?”
Emily scrunched herself down, trying to keep quiet. Maya eyed the handful of rifles not quite pointing at them. At any second, one of the blueberries could get sick of hearing Emily carry on and silence her for good.
“It’s okay, Em. We’ll be fine. They won’t shoot us,” said Maya. “Please just stay quiet.”
Screams in the distance sounded like Naida, or maybe Arlene. An angry man bellowed and a heavy whump reverberated in the floor. The female voice stopped screaming.
Pick sniffled. His face reddened and his fists turned purple from trying to break the zip ties.
Baxter walked over to Hammond. “Seen it too many times, Chris. Soon as you let your guard down, even the children will stick a knife in your back.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have to be so paranoid if you stopped treating us like garbage. Assholes. She’s seven and terrified.” Sarah twisted around to glare at them. “Are you really so scared of little kids you gotta cuff us so tight we can barely move, or does it make you feel like a big tough man to terrorize children?”
Baxter cracked her across the face with the butt of his rifle, knocking her sideways to the floor. Sarah’s mouth hung open, her eyes unfocused. A trail of blood crept down over her forehead, another from her lip. Maya stared in horror for a second at her helpless friend, hogtied and unconscious, before looking up at Baxter. Emily closed her eyes and trembled, emitting a steady whine.
“Sarah!” Maya struggled to move closer, desperate to wrap her in a hug. That she couldn’t with her wrists locked together infuriated her past fear. She glared up at Baxter. “What did you do that for? What’s wrong with you?” Venom pooled at the tip of her tongue, rage at the way they treated a harmless girl threatened to launch a tirade. She bit her lip; if she acted like her old self, all of these kids would be in trouble… as would everyone in the building. Tears of shame and anger leaked out of her eyes, followed by a genuine squeal of fright when Baxter raised his rifle again.
Hammond shoved Baxter before he could give Maya a whack. “What the fuck was that? God damned kid’s in restraints. You can’t take a fuckin’ wisecrack from a twelve-year-old? You get off on that or something? You could’a broken her goddamned neck.”
“She’s eleven.” Pick narrowed his eyes at the man who hit Sarah. “Asshole.”
“Fuck you, Chris.” Baxter pushed Hammond away and took a step toward Pick, who cowered.
Hammond grabbed the other blueberry and yanked him back with enough force to make him stumble. “You hit another kid, I’m going to break my Hornet off in your ass.”
Baxter rolled his shoulders and took on an aggressive lean at Hammond. “Bunch of Nons. If we don’t kill them now, we’ll wind up doing it in five years when they’re older.”
“They’re not all criminals,” muttered Sarge. “Just most of them.”
“Still a fucking kid.” Hammond shoved him again. “This ain’t what we signed on for.”
Baxter took a swing, which Hammond ducked. The two men collapsed in a heap of writhing armor and blurry fists. A third Authority officer in the room standing by Sarge watched with mild interest. Maya cringed away from the fight going on less than an arm’s length behind her. Blood continued to seep down Sarah’s porcelain face, threading in a trail that dripped from her nose. Maya seethed in silent fury, but no matter how hard she strained, the plastic cuffs refused to snap. Unable to get her hands loose to embrace her friend, Maya stooped forward and pressed her forehead to Sarah’s.
“Please be okay,” whispered Maya. “I’m sorry…”
Sarge stomped over, hoisting Baxter and Hammond up by the necks of their armor like a pair of kittens. He tossed Baxter one way and Hammond the other.
“Knock that shit off. If one of you is going on report, you’re both going on report. Either one of you got a complaint?”
Hammond fumed, staring at Sarah. “Maybe I do.”
“No, you don’t.” Sarge pointed at Baxter. “And neither do you. Both of you get the fuck out of here and go do something useful. Check the ninth and tenth.”
Maya shifted sideways, struggling to reach Sarah’s head to put pressure on the bleeding cut over her left eye. Her fingers teased at hair, but nothing more. Anton whispered to Marcus.
“Quiet,” said the smaller officer. “Face the wall, don’t talk. At the moment, none of you are in any trouble. This is a routine security check. Obey the rules and no one gets hurt.”
“Tell that to Sarah,” muttered Pick.
If they knew who I was, they’d wet their pants. Maya tried to burn holes in the wall with a glare.
“Hey, hey, hey!” yelled Brian, somewhere outside. “I didn’t do anything. Get offa me.”
The tromp of boots went down the hall. A few minutes later, Maya cringed at the echo of an armored vehicle hatch closing outside. At the tromp of more heavy footsteps approaching, she twisted around to look at the door. Two blueberries carried a struggling, hogtied Genna down the hall toward the stairs. Maya tried to jump upright, but wound up rolling onto her back when the binding jerked her to a halt.
“Hey. That’s my mom! Why are you taking her?” She scooted in a series of short hops for the door until not-Sarge grabbed her and dragged her back to her place against the wall.
“If your mother’s got nothing to hide,” said the blueberry, “she’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“Why?” Maya shook her head to fling away a streamer of snot from crying. “Why are you taking her?”
“Got flagged. She probably looks like someone on the wanted list. If she’s clean, she’ll be back in a few hours.” He patted her on the head.
Sarge walked out while talking to thin air. “Floor nine, status. Good. Ten?” He grumbled to himself for a few seconds. “Well then finish it.”
One blueberry left.
I could tell him who I am. I could order him to let her go. She exhaled, feeling defeated and helpless. No. They’d still take her, and take me too. Maya wanted to cry but wound up getting furious instead. Vanessa loathed being backed into a corner and having no way out. That woman never allowed herself to become helpless. Of course, she also wasn’t nine. Maya slumped, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. The more she wanted to hold Sarah in her arms, the tighter the plastic around her wrists felt.
Emily whined to herself, desperate to cry but terrified to make a sound. Anton and Marcus grimaced and gasped while attempting to free themselves. Pick had curled up in the corner, staring past his knees with a wide-eyed, heart-rending expression of pleading fear. Maya fumed in silence. Every second of being treated like this made her hate Vanessa a little more.
About ten uncomfortable minutes later, the remaining blueberry said “Copy” and walked out.
Maya looked around, her panic building. Too-fast breathing left her dizzy in seconds. At the rapid thunk of several heavy vehicle doors closing, and laboring electric engines whirring off to silence, she stared in horror at the still-unconscious Sarah.
Her heart raced as she struggled to move. “A-aren’t they gonna let us out?”
Pick twisted himself around and fell flat on his stomach. “Nope.” He squirmed and grunted.
“No?” Maya gasped. “They’re just gonna leave us tied up?”
“Yeah. They always do,” said Marcus. “Guess they wanna run away before we go after ‘em with grenades.”
Anton shook his head. “Last time they was here, they left Faerie in the wrong ‘partment. No one found her for like a whole day.”
“W-what do we do?” Maya flopped on her side and nudged Sarah with her head a few times.
“Don’
t scream.” Emily sniffled before answering in an eerie whisper. “We hope someone nice finds us. If you scream for help, someone bad will come.”
Maya peered up from the floor at Emily, still kneeling where the Authority had placed her, looking pathetic in her costume doll dress. With the threat of violence out of the room, Emily surrendered to crying and calling for her mommy and daddy, though not too loud.
Go ahead, shoot. I’ll even watch if it will get you to stop pestering me.
Vanessa’s voice in her memory filled Maya with disgust. How could that awful woman allow people to be treated like this for no crime other than being too poor to become Citizens? She rolled onto her back and used every muscle in her body in an effort to break the tie linking her wrists to her ankles. The harder she struggled, the more they hurt, and the less she believed she could escape.
Pick gave up his fight as well and lay still, looking a mixture of bored and nervous. Marcus knee-walked around the junk, heading for what had been the apartment’s kitchen. Gritting her teeth, Maya pulled with all the strength she could find in an effort to stretch her legs out and snap her way free. Pain overwhelmed fear, and she sagged limp a few seconds later.
A glint of sunlight flickered from the broken window by where Sarge had perched. Maya figured it about noon. Her nightmare swooped in on wings of terror. The Authority had taken Genna. Silence said every adult in the building had been arrested, and Mr. Mason, away in the Sanc at his job, hadn’t been here. He’d be back in a few hours.
And the Authority had gift wrapped her for him.
ooden thumping came from the kitchen. Maya stared at the ceiling while trying to twist her hands out of the tight plastic loops. Anton, who she assumed to be stronger than her, had failed to break loose. Emily had curled up on her side, her constant pleas for her parents having faded to tiny whispered mewls.
Maya rolled her head to the right, staring past several roaches at the shivering, crying doll. She blamed Vanessa for this. Angry resolve sidestepped the onrush of panic caused by the bugs crawling closer. Standing around them had been scary enough, but now she couldn’t even get up. Having her face at floor level with enormous insects made her draw in a breath to scream, but she remembered Emily’s warning and choked on it. With an uneasy whimper leaking from her nose, she swung her legs side to side in an effort to rock herself off her back while trying to resist the urge to shout for help.
“Swear it ain’t none of us what told,” said Anton. “Them bugs won’t bite you long as you’re moving. They only have a taste if’n they think you’s a deader.”
“I know.” Maya grunted as her body surrendered to gravity. She straightened herself out on her belly. “Mr. Mason did it.”
“Blueberries didn’t take you though. Guess you got lucky.” Anton settled in, looking as though he expected to be stuck all day.
“Why’d he do it?” asked Pick. He shifted on his side, tucked his knees against his chest and rolled onto them.
Maya snarled from the plastic biting her skin, but she wobbled until she mimicked his technique. Without carpet, the concrete slab floor hurt her knees, but she felt less helpless as close to upright as she could get. She frowned at Sarah, who hadn’t yet come to. At least the bleeding had stopped. Sarah knew what Mr. Mason wanted too. Maya bit her lip while staring at Emily. She couldn’t say it in front of her. “He’s mean and greedy. I bet he thought he’d get a reward.”
“Shit,” said Marcus from the kitchen. “Ain’t nothin’ in here.”
“Shut up,” whisper-shouted Pick. “Don’t yell for help or bad people will come.”
Maya glanced at the window. Bad people are gonna come anyway. The thought of Mason finding her helpless got her shivering, but that his ‘revenge’ had wound up taking Genna away made her furious.
“Whatchu lookin’ for?” said Anton.
Marcus emitted a grunt as if trying to lift an object too heavy for him. “Broke pipe or something wit’ an edge. These shits are plastic.”
Maya blinked. Zoe’s workshop! Wire cutters. She knee-walked to the door as fast as she could move, which wasn’t fast at all, wincing whenever her bones hit the ground too hard.
“Hey, what are you doing?” yelled Pick. “Don’t go out there. Someone will ‘nap you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of if I just stay here too.” Maya stopped at the door to catch her breath. “Stay quiet.”
Ignoring his protest, she leaned her head out and looked both ways. Aside from a haze of smoke and the smell of some chemical she didn’t recognize, the hall appeared empty. The stinky stairwell had no doors, and she’d never be able to reach the knob on the fire exit while hogtied. She had bigger things to worry about than an unpleasant odor. With a grunt of determination, she got her weight up on her knees and toes, and shuffled out the door, ignoring the whispered shouts of the other kids telling her not to.
Huffing and gasping, she scooted down the hall. The blueberries had taken her to the fifth floor, probably because the middle of the building made the best central command post. Except for that one guy Hammond, and maybe Warren who’d been nice, the experience had dulled the horror of watching Moth kill blueberries. A tiny part of her psyche wanted Moth to still be alive so he could twist Baxter’s head off for hitting Sarah, and beat the snot out of the one who tied her up.
Maya yelped with each strike of her knees upon the smooth concrete floor on her trek to the stairwell. She didn’t even notice the stench, her brain spinning in too much of a whirlwind of anger and fear to register it. She dragged herself to the first step, turned around, and got a grip on the edge. The tether between her hands and feet allowed barely enough room, and between pushing with her toes and lifting with her arms, she pulled herself up one step. She repeated the process again and again, stopping for a few breaths as soon as her backside had a solid purchase on the landing.
She stared down past her legs, and the tenuous grip her toes had on the eleventh step, at a fall that would probably break her neck since she couldn’t protect her head with her arms. Sarah needs help. Maya forced the terror of a fatal somersault out of her mind and kept going. She rolled backward and wriggled over to the next set of steps. One stair at a time, she made her way up. The urge to get herself free before Mr. Mason came back and found her friends surged, allowing her to ignore the growing pain from where the bindings bit into her skin. No one remained behind to save them.
Sweat soaked her by the time she reached the sixth floor. She dragged herself away from the stairs before trying to roll onto her knees, not wanting to risk a fall. Inch by inch, she hopped and shuffled down the corridor. A sudden, horrifying thought sent tears streaming down her face. What if Zoe’s apartment door was closed? The mere worry it might not be open got her as sick to her stomach as if Mason had found her. A steady stream of determined grunting came from her with each shuffle forward to the corner.
Joy burst from her chest at the sight of the workshop/clinic door hanging wide. It took a somber turn when she shuffled in and found Zoe unconscious on the floor, also hogtied with plastic strips. Small scratches on the woman’s arms suggested Emily had been torn away from her mother.
They didn’t take everyone. Where’s Doctor Chang?
“Hello?” asked Maya.
Silence.
Out of breath, she knelt in place for a few seconds glancing at the bottoms of tables, trying to remember which one had the wire cutters. “Sorry, Zoe. I’ll help you clean up.”
Maya hopped forward and slammed her shoulder into the nearest table leg. She rocked side to side, shaking the table until stuff started falling from all sides. Something hard bounced off her head, making her cry out, but it looked like a spool of solder. Snarling, she flung herself against the table until she ran out of breath, then looked around the rug.
She bit her lip to keep from cheering at the wonderful blue plastic tool four feet away. Maya let gravity take her down on her side and inchwormed up to it, fingers grasping at the carpet until she got a hand
on the cutter. After a moment of fumbling, she managed a decent grip and twisted her head around to look at her feet. The blueberry had pulled the strips tight to the point of being cruel, and the wire cutter hurt when she tried to slip one of the points under the plastic.
Maya growled and forced the tool between her skin and the painful strap before squeezing the grip with both hands. Growling with effort, she strained with all the strength she could muster. Eventually, a loud click broke the silence and her right leg shot straight out, leaving her left still tethered to her hands. With a little more mobility, she shifted her weight to one knee and repeated the process to free her other leg. She sat upright, rubbing at her raw ankles with opposing feet while trying to work the snips around to attack the plastic encircling her wrists.
Each time Maya slipped and dropped the cutter, her frustration grew. When the tool hit the rug for the fifth time, she let off an angry scream, but gave up on the impossible task and crawled to Zoe. It took some creative wriggling to work the snips behind her back, but she snipped the riot ties off the woman and tried to wake her up by patting her on the cheek with a foot. Alas, Zoe didn’t react.
“Did they give you a tranq?” Maya grumbled and wobbled up to stand.
Keeping a death grip on the wire cutter behind her back, she ran down to the fifth floor. Marcus had dragged himself once more into the living room and rocked side to side, still trying to free himself. Pick’s calm had broken, and he sniveled into the lack of rug. When Maya walked in, everyone went silent and still, staring.
Everyone except Sarah, who remained unconscious.
Maya hurried over to Marcus and twisted around so they could all see the wire cutters behind her back. Emily smiled and bounced in place. Pick looked awestruck.
Heir Ascendant (Faded Skies Book 1) Page 16
