by R. K. Gold
A loud crack sounded under them, and the front tipped forward. The four-wheeler was behind them again and gaining on them with ease. Pop!
No matter how hard Jakobe stepped on the gas, it wouldn't go any faster. The ram on the front bumper of the four-wheeler crashed into them. The metal screeched, and the driver emptied their round into the vehicle. Jakobe couldn't hear a thing. He jerked the wheel to the left to shake the four-wheeler off. His hands were stuck to the steering wheel. Sedi curled in a ball and leaned forward until he was almost on the floor.
Only the four-wheeler was on them now; the other four vehicles pulled away. Jakobe looked through the cracked windshield and saw scores of identical people in front of him. All wore the same red robes and had the same long, flowing hair. He couldn’t make out any facial features. They looked like a child’s attempt at drawing a crowd. Over the next hill, he could see the top of a building. It looked similar to the ones back east, except there were no fires inside or around it, no graffiti on it, and the windows looked intact.
Jakobe didn't hit the brakes. The truck came to a stop on its own. He looked back at the four-wheeler and saw the driver with the blue hair break into a full sprint in the opposite direction. Without any hesitation, Jakobe jumped out of the truck and chased after him. He struggled to run at first; his hamstrings cramped and his ankles stiffened. He found his stride before the first hill and caught up to the blue-haired driver. He spun around and aimed his gun at Jakobe just as he tackled him. The gun fell to the ground, and the two of them rolled on top of one another to grab it. Jakobe got his hands on it first and pulled the trigger, but only heard the click of an empty magazine.
The driver laughed. It was the first time Jakobe heard his voice and was surprised by its high pitch. When the driver pulled off the helmet, Jakobe saw a young woman with dark brown skin and a half-shaved head. She had an inverted V tattooed under her eye. "Ya fucked us both," she said and fell back on the ground. Jakobe turned back to his truck when he heard bikes heading their way.
Three riders rode to them, looking at the woman on the ground first. "You caught her?" the closest man to Jakobe asked. He was so much taller than Jakobe, it felt like he could hammer him into the ground with the butt of his closed fist. Jakobe tried to answer, but his mouth wouldn't open.
"Yeah—he caught me," the woman said and winked at Jakobe.
"What was that wink?" the man who grabbed her asked.
"Guess you'll never know," she said and giggled. The large man standing beside Jakobe grabbed him so hard, Jakobe's legs buckled. He would've fallen to the ground if he wasn't in the man's grip.
"Damn, he's a little weakling, isn't he?" the man asked and slung Jakobe over his shoulder. He sounded like he took more pity on Jakobe than anything.
9
The three men parked their bikes in a trench on the hill where the people stood. A metal door closed over them. Jakobe noticed a shimmer from the crowd. They weren't people at all—they were—projections. "They're not real?" he asked.
The third man went to the truck to pull Sedi free. The woman with the blue hair walked ahead of the short man with the incredibly square head, tasked with cuffing her. He was shorter than Jakobe but had arms of a man twice his size. The woman with the blue hair didn't look concerned with the situation. She raised a mocking eyebrow at the square-headed man and said, "Bet this will get you back in Red Eye's good graces."
The rows of people on the hill vanished all at once. The half-giant carrying Jakobe tossed him off his shoulder and put him back on the ground with ease. "You're not gonna cause any trouble, are ya?"
"I'm not looking to cause any trouble, but it has a funny way of finding us," Jakobe replied.
"We only wanted the girl and her gang. You stopped her for us. The way I see it is if you and your friend don't act out of line, we'll have no reason to keep you." There was a certain sincerity in his voice that calmed Jakobe's concerns.
"Don't listen to 'em for a second. If they're not trying to shoot you in the head, they're probably planning on stabbing you in the back. Red Eye's little lap dogs." She blew a kiss at the square-headed guard, and when he reached for a baton at his side, she spun around and kicked him the crotch. The giant behind Jakobe pulled his baton out and smacked the woman across the face with it. She collapsed faster than a mesh flour bag, holding her face. Though she rolled in pain, she laughed. "Like I said—Red Eye's little bitch."
They all reached the hill and walked up the neatly manicured grass. Identical hills sprawled ahead and behind for miles. To his left was the mountain and to his right were the same rolling hills, but Jakobe knew beyond the hills the storm was raging on.
On the hill, not a blade looked out of place, and there were no yellow flowers like the ones at the park in the city. They walked around shallow trenches full of metal barrels. They weren’t weapons. Each trench had a generator inside and a computer screen to control the projections. Light shined through red gems on the ends of the barrels. "You never been to Cardinvale before?" the half-giant asked, sounding surprised.
Jakobe didn't reply. He couldn't say anything wrong if he didn't say anything at all.
The woman with the blue hair tried to shout something, but the gag they put in her mouth muffled her. "Holograms," the large man continued. "Marks our border and scares people off. The best fights are the ones that end before a punch is thrown." It was the second time the man put Jakobe at ease. He was used to the opposite mentality where fights were used as icebreakers.
On the other side of the hill was a gray, paved road. To the left were red cliffs, and straight ahead were some of the tallest buildings Jakobe had ever seen. Surrounding the tall center buildings were small ones built in the same rectangular shape, and the further from the center they sprawled, the smaller they got until they became nothing but tents.
"It's massive," Jakobe said, looking at all the people walking down the roads. He had never seen so many roads intersecting with one another before either. In the White Liner city, he saw a few intersections, but the side streets were almost entirely abandoned. No one strayed from the two main roads heading in the cardinal directions, but here they went everywhere.
They hopped in a roofless and doorless truck; Jakobe had never seen anything like it before. He and the third guard sat in the back while the giant and Sedi sat in the front. The square-headed guard drove alone in the second truck with the blue-haired woman.
10
Jakobe wanted to explore the city. He had never seen so much life in one place before. He almost swallowed his tongue when they turned toward the red cliffs. "What's in there?" he asked, but no one answered. All the calm he felt before faded, and his heart spiked. He reached for his side to grab his gun, but it was with Sedi in the car and—he turned to Sedi, who, as if able to read his mind, shook his head.
They willfully walked into a trap. A large metal door at least twenty feet tall and wide was carved into the side of the mountain. Jakobe didn't realize how much comfort the warmth of the sun on his skin gave him until they drove into the shade of the cliff. His skin prickled.
The doors in the cliff began to open, and they drove inside. There was an entire wall of screens with pictures of maps and videos of people around the West. Men and women sat and stood in front of various monitors working on projects Jakobe couldn't understand. In the East they fought over half-eaten cans of food; here they had magic from the labs Jakobe had only seen ruins of. It looked like the places Myskin used to tell him about when he was being experimented on.
"What is this place?" Jakobe asked, and no one answered. They parked the truck, and the two guards hopped out first. The giant who wanted to comfort Jakobe out in the fields now looked at him like he was just another chore on a to-do list. He pointed at a scrawny man with gray skin, a mousy face, and a tipped nose.
"Take them to the holding cells."
The mousy man nodded and approached Jakobe and Sedi. Jakobe didn't dare make a move in such a crowded area, but he insti
nctively sized up the man. It was one of the rare moments he felt like he could take him on in a fight until he pulled a black rectangle from his pocket and pressed a button on its side. The weapon crackled, and a flash of light sparked between the two prongs.
"Move it," the man said in a scratchy voice. His dark black eyes jumped from Jakobe to Sedi.
The blue-haired woman was gone. "I said move it," the mousy man squeaked and jabbed the device at Jakobe. The burn jolted through his entire body. Jakobe didn't realize he lost his balance until his face smacked against the floor. For a moment he couldn't even move his legs. Another guard came over. He could hear the mousy man's squeaky voice but couldn't understand any of the words he was saying.
Two men held Jakobe up by his armpits and dragged him through the bunker. The dull buzz grew louder. He couldn't discern any sounds. His eyes grew heavy, letting himself sway into the dull hums.
11
When Jakobe opened his eyes, he was in a cell. He didn't know if he ever lost consciousness, but his memory from the bunker to the cell was blurry. Sedi sat in the corner with his legs crossed and his hands on his knees. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Sweat stains covered his white shirt, and his plaid button-down was covered in tears.
It looked nothing like the cell in the city in the storm. The floor had a metallic shine. The ceiling and three walls were painted white. The fourth wall was a mirror. Jakobe walked to the mirror and put his hands on it. He heard something buzz in the corner. When he looked up, he saw a round black device with a lens following him.
"They're watching us," Sedi whispered. Jakobe didn't know if he was trying to keep his voice down or still didn't have the strength to speak normally. He rubbed his throat as if the words hurt him coming up.
"Where'd they take the girl?"
Sedi shrugged. "I'm worried about us. Robe made it clear—we get caught, we're dead." Sedi uncrossed his legs and put his palms on the ground. "You said you were gonna keep a low profile."
"I didn't expect to get tossed into a gunfight the second we crossed the border."
"Low profile means off the main road. It was only a matter of time before we—" Sedi had to pause and breathe. It strained him to speak.
Jakobe nodded. He understood where Sedi was going and didn't want to make him speak more than he needed to. "They said they'd let us go if we cooperated," Jakobe added. He knew it was a lie, and thankfully Sedi didn't reply. He just wanted them to hear it—if they were watching him, he wanted them to know what they promised. Breaking a promise was one thing; pretending to never make one was far worse. Jakobe sat beside Sedi and looked at the black orb on the ceiling again. It was the only thing beside him and Sedi that moved in the room.
Besides the orb, there was a single bed and a hole in the opposite wall with the words “piss & shit” etched over it. Jakobe's mind wandered to the woman with the blue hair and her gang. They chased him for being a threat—or trespassing—or was that just what they did? Take out any target they felt they could take. Jakobe understood why. It's what he used to do. It was a means to survive; corpses didn't need their clothes, food, water, or weapons.
She had that inverted V tattoo under her eye. It couldn't have been a coincidence that she shared the same mark as Myskin. He said he got his at the lab—but they were east. Could she have snuck west?
Sedi walked over to the bed and lay down. Within seconds he was asleep.
12
Jakobe stirred, never able to fully sleep. He dangled in that half-awake state, unsure which noises were in his head and which were around him. He felt himself falling and stuck his arms out to catch himself, stopping his faceplant at the last second.
A tray with food and water rested in front of the door. He thought he heard a metal compartment slide open in his dream. His throat and tongue felt too dry to open. He moved the water to his lips, loosening them just enough to slip the lid against his teeth and drink. By the time he finished half the canteen, his stomach had rumbled.
He was too thirsty to realize just how hungry he was; how long had it been since Sedi delivered his last meal to him in the cells of the city in the storm? Jakobe sat next to the tray and poked the mushy contents with a spoon. The food was gray and soggy. Parts of it held together in clumps, and others trickled over the side like soup.
It tasted like air; Jakobe couldn't differentiate when the food went in his mouth and down his throat. He ate it as easily as breathing. It came as a relief since the pale gray contents looked far less appealing than its nonexistent taste. Jakobe shoveled spoonful after spoonful into his mouth and was surprised how quickly his hunger vanished. He'd never experienced anything like it before.
He finished a little more than half the dish when he looked back and saw Sedi still asleep. It was his fault for sleeping. There was no guarantee either of them would survive. What good would it do to sacrifice his strength for Sedi's at a time he might need it most? Jakobe sighed; he couldn't bring himself to finish off the food and sat back on his hands. The thought of Sedi waking up just as hungry as he was and stuck in here forced to bend to the will of their captors—it made Jakobe's stomach twist in knots. He brought the tray and canteen over to the bed and rubbed Sedi's shoulder until he woke up.
"They brought us some food," Jakobe said, and though a part of him looked at the food and water, wishing he tucked it away, the muscles in his gut relaxed, and he felt comforting warmth flow through his body. Sedi nodded his appreciation and poked the gray mush, similarly to how Jakobe acted at first. He didn't bother getting out of bed and ate about half of what was left before offering the remains to Jakobe.
"You sure?" he asked.
Sedi shrugged. "Not sure about anything, but you actually fought. You gave us more of a chance to escape back there than I did. You'll need the strength more than me." Before Jakobe could say anything, Sedi rolled over on the mattress and pulled his knees to his chest.
It felt like hours passed, and the only sounds in the cell were Sedi's quiet snores and the hum of the camera focusing. The compartment at the bottom of the door opened, and another tray slid through. Jakobe rested his back against the mattress. There were no discernible signs on the walls. No hints of where he was taken or who had him.
Another hour passed and Sedi woke up. Feeling refreshed, he brought the food over. Jakobe waved off his offers to eat until Sedi physically put the spoon to Jakobe's mouth. "Don't be stupid; eat what you can so you're always prepared."
"Did you see the woman with the blue hair—like closely?" Jakobe asked.
Sedi shook his head. "I've never been in a fight before. When the bullets hit the car, I was useless. Only thing I could focus on was breathing and covering as much of my body as possible."
Jake leaned closer to Sedi's ear and whispered, "she had a mark under her eye. An inverted V. I know I've seen it before back east."
"Probably safer back east too," Sedi replied and pulled away. He took a long sip of water. His voice came back, and the bruising lightened on his face and neck.
"So you've seen it before?" Jakobe tried to keep his voice down.
"Rarely. Usually west heading east. Strange bunch. Can survive almost anything."
"Then what do they have to be afraid of?" Jakobe spun around so he faced Sedi head on.
"If you can survive anything, you can suffer unimaginable pain. We have a threshold—death is a clear point our bodies cannot cross, but imagine if you moved that threshold a little further away. Imagine if you could live through just a little more—think of the most pain you've ever felt and amplify it. Was there ever a time you wished you were dead?"
Jakobe thought of the pit Clive threw him in. He had no escape until Lyo and his crew came along. Clive planned to trade him to the Hammers, and there wasn't a thing Jakobe could do about it. At that moment he wished he were dead. He wished someone put him out of his misery quickly instead of letting the Hammers have their way with him. He had only heard rumors; nothing could be proven since almost no one es
caped the Hammers once they were captured. The stories were brutal. Those who were gutted got off easy. They preferred their victims fresh—still alive.
"There were a few," Jakobe said and turned to the door as it opened. The half-giant guard who brought them to the cells and the mousy man with the gray skin and pointed nose walked toward them. He had that black device out again, and it crackled when he pressed the button on the side.
Sedi and Jakobe crawled back at the sound, and a smile etched on the man's face. It was the reaction he was looking for. "Good," he squeaked and stepped aside. He bowed to the half-giant as he walked into the room.
"In a single day, you two helped us apprehend one of our most wanted criminals. No one in our city or the neighboring four recognize your pictures, which makes me think this is some sort of set up. Did either of you have prior contact with Dez or her encampment?" The man folded his massive arms across his chest.
"Who is Dez?" Jakobe asked.
The air cracked. The mousy man pointed the device at Jakobe, and he saw the sharp light spark. "I don't know who he is."
"He?" The giant asked. "The woman you tackled in the hills."
"She shot at me. She tried to kill us. You think we were working with her?" Jakobe asked.
"You more so than him." The giant pointed at Sedi, who hugged his knees to his large gut. "Put the taser away, Foyle."
"We never met with a Dez or anyone like that before. We were chased by her and her camp through the hills."
"It's just difficult for me to believe, you see—they would know better than to come right to our border. They're low lives who have been raiding the Five for years now."
Jakobe didn't have a clue what the man was saying. He tried his best not to look lost as he continued.
