Aside from a few sidelong glances, no one acted like it was odd for a cop to supervise them dumping garbage, so Reid figured it must be fairly normal, though there wasn’t another cop to be seen.
Reid stopped the wagon at the tracks and turned to Justine. There was a panic-stricken look on her face.
“Blades,” she breathed. She flicked her gaze to the right.
Twenty or so men in uniforms skated across the road at the next intersection.
Brandt walked past, his back to the Blades. “Unload the trash,” he said under his breath.
Reid looked at the wagon. Mia was in their trashcan. Hadn’t Brandt thought of this? What was he supposed to do?
Reid’s fingers worked nervously on the yellow nylon cord tied to the wagon, but his palms sweated, making it difficult. When he got the knot untied, Justine grabbed the trash bag and took it to the kid on the platform along with the one she’d be filling.
When she returned, Reid gestured to the can. “What now?”
Justine eyes were wide. Apparently, she didn’t have any more answers than he did. Obviously they couldn’t empty it.
“You there,” Brandt shouted, pointing at Reid. “You done yet? You have to move faster if you’re gonna make it out here. Go on, now. Across the tracks.”
Reid breathed a sigh of relief and tugged the wagon forward. If anyone noticed he hadn’t dumped the can, hopefully they’d attribute it to a newbie afraid to disobey orders from a cop.
Justine trudged beside him, holding her stomach. “I think I might be sick.”
“You didn’t know that was going to happen?” Reid asked.
“I’ve never done this either. I had no idea there’d be so many people. When the Blades went by, I almost heaved.”
The workers dispersed. After a few dozen yards, they were on their own again. Reid’s heart slowed to normal and he wondered how Mia was doing inside the trashcan
Brandt rejoined them. “Tell me this looks familiar and we’re going the right way.”
Reid looked around, getting his bearings. “I think so. I’m pretty sure.”
“You’d better be. You’re risking all our lives,” Brandt said, scowling.
Reid squinted through the tinted glasses, trying to focus on the road ahead. Please, please, please . . . yes! “See that cluster of buildings up to the right? There’s a junkyard on the far side. We hid it in the garage there.”
“Slow down, we’re still in the open. Can’t be too spirited in case someone’s watching.” Brandt resumed his whistling.
Despite the slow pace, Reid’s heart rate quickened as they approached the junkyard.
“I don’t see anyone around,” Brandt said. “But to be safe, pick stuff up and put it in the wagon while I peek inside.” He tromped ahead and went into the garage.
Please let Tinker be there, Reid thought over and over as he placed random pieces of metal and debris into the wagon.
After what seemed like an eternity, Brandt poked his head out and beckoned.
Reid pulled the wagon up the slope to the doorway as Justine pushed from behind, helping it over the threshold.
The car was covered with tarps, just as he’d left it.
“Sorry,” Brandt said, but Reid already knew.
Tinker wasn’t there.
Sixty-Four
Aboard the Emancipation
Nikolai couldn’t eat, and hoped Finola wouldn’t take offense. The problem wasn’t her food, but rather the way the pirates were ingesting it. He didn’t consider himself a prig, but it was impossible not to find their voraciousness and table manners repulsive. Kennedy, however, didn’t seem to have such qualms. He ate his meal while guiding the conversation.
“So the war has gotten worse recently?” Kennedy prompted.
“By a lot,” Markoff said, his mouth full of rat.
Nikolai looked away.
“Things escalated when the Belle arrived,” Markoff continued. “See, when the southern pirates captured the Belle, they used it to get in good with Pascal. That’s why your boy and his crew are in the Tank instead of being carved up for sport.”
Thank God for small favors.
“It was lucky for your guys,” Markoff went on, “those southern blaggards saw it as an opportunity to push us northerners further on the outs.”
“How?” Kennedy asked.
Markoff harrumphed. “They told Pascal we were in cahoots with outsiders. That we were deserters, going to leave Lost Angeles waters for San Francisco. That’s why he wants my head on a spit.”
“Were you?” Nikolai asked.
“Hadn’t even considered it. But I might now. Pascal not only has a price on my head, he’s got an embargo against us. So we have no canned goods, no red meat, and no liquor. Just fish and no way to trade it.”
“There’s nothing left to hunt or gather where you live?” Kennedy asked.
“Begad, no. Catalina Island hasn’t had a live rat or a can of food in my lifetime.”
“Can’t you look for food farther up the coast, outside Pascal’s territory?” Nikolai asked, feeling a bit more sympathetic about their table manners now that he understood their enthusiasm for food other than fish.
“Tried that. Didn’t pan out. My people haven’t hunted or collected since I was a baby. We’ve got no idea where it’s safe from Pascal’s Blades and environmental hazards. Everywhere familiar has already been scavenged clean. Plus, we prefer to fish.”
“Then you definitely should consider San Francisco,” Kennedy said. “Our colony welcomes fisherman and would be happy to trade with you.”
Markoff tipped his head, as if considering. “There’s another problem besides food.” He paused to fork in more meat before continuing. “We relied on Pascal’s Services for pretty much everything other than fish. Of course, we can do fine with our own women, we have plenty of weapons and ammo stockpiled, and we can get by for now with clothing and such. The problem is, we’ve got no doctors or dentists. Other than a couple of midwives, we don’t have any medical help. Is that something you’ve got in San Francisco?”
“Some,” Kennedy said. “Working on getting more.”
“Some is better than none.” Markoff belched and shoved his chair back from the table. “Compliments to Cook. That was one helluva meal. I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
“What’s that, Captain Marky?” Finola said, bearing another tray of food. “Am I to throw my cinnamon apples to the fishies?”
“Scratch what I said.” Markoff rubbed his hands together. “I can absolutely eat more. I haven’t had an apple in . . . how long has it been since you last visited, Nikolai?”
“The last time was about two years ago. Remember that all-night poker game when I cleaned you out, and then some? Seems to me you still owe me the rest of my winnings.”
“Why do you think I let you live?” Markoff grinned. “In fact, you owe me, now. And I’ll take that payment in Cook’s cinnamon apples.”
“Apples are another thing we’re willing to trade,” Kennedy said. “Cider, too.”
Markoff’s eyes lit up. “What would we have to trade for that? Our women and firstborn children?”
“Just fish,” Kennedy said.
“Surely not just fish,” Markoff said, his mouth full again.
“My old partner Simon Creighton runs the cider trade out of San Francisco,” Nikolai said. “He hates to fish more than anything. He’ll gladly trade fish for cider, as much as you can catch for as much as you can drink.” Nikolai didn’t think he was overstating. There were dozens of apple orchards in Marin County, and they should be producing quite well now.
“Mmm.” Markoff shoveled in more apples. “Where would we live? We’d have to have an island. Pirates aren’t mainland kinds of people.”
“There are a couple of islands you might like,” Kennedy said.
“Right,” Nikolai chimed in. “Have you heard of Alcatraz?”
Markoff shook his head.
“No? Alcatraz Island
holds one of the most notorious prisons of all time,” Nikolai said. “It would be perfect for you.” Pirates would be a nice addition to San Francisco Bay.
Markoff smiled with apple-covered teeth.
“We’d be willing to give you Alcatraz,” Kennedy said. “As a gift. Free and clear. If you help us retrieve the Belle and her crew. Including Nikolai’s daughter.”
Markoff’s brow furrowed. He put down his fork, pushed his bowl away, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “What you’re asking . . . going up against Pascal and the southern pirates. . . .” He shook his head.
Nikolai’s heart sank. Without the aid of the northern pirates, the chances of a successful rescue approached nil.
Markoff belched. “Well . . . we’d have to have a really good plan.”
Nikolai’s hopes soared. “Absolutely.”
“Planning takes cider.” Markoff pounded his chest with his fist and belched again. “And I believe I just made room for some.”
“You’ll have all the cider you can handle, as well as my bottomless thanks,” Nikolai said. “I have the beginnings of a plan, but it only works in partnership with you.”
“Then bring on the cider!”
Sixty-Five
Lost Angeles
“I’m only going to ask you one more time,” Pascal said through his teeth. “Where is the vehicle?”
The prisoner smiled.
Pascal backhanded him, sending him careening off the chair. Pascal kicked the old man’s ribs and air rushed out with a whoosh.
“Get him up,” Pascal commanded.
The two guards lifted the prisoner by the arms. The man’s head hung limp, his chin resting against his chest.
This was going nowhere fast.
“Take him to the Tank,” Pascal said. “The moment he wakes up, I want him worked over. When he talks, don’t send a runner. Send a Blade, whoever is fastest.”
“Yessir.” The guards dragged the man out.
Pascal went to the command post to check on the search. “Tell me someone’s got something to report.” His demand was met with silence. “Gomez, get me food and coffee.”
Pascal returned to Ellianna’s desk feeling weary and spent. But he visualized the ugly daughter of the clothier, and that was enough to bring his blood to near boiling again. Mia was not going to best him. She’d be caught, she’d tell him what he needed to know, then he’d show her what happened to anyone who tried to outmaneuver him. Then he’d let her live. Her death would be too easily forgotten, but alive she’d be an enduring visual example to others.
It was just a matter of time, he told himself. A matter of time before he had the vehicle he deserved and Mia had what she deserved.
No one could beat the King of Lost Angeles, least of all the daughter of a clothier.
Sixty-Six
Lost Angeles
“I won’t leave without my grandfather,” Reid said.
“Listen to me,” Brandt said. “If they have him, he’s already spilled his guts about the car, and Blades are on their way here now. We have to leave.”
“Please,” Mia said, touching his arm. “Brandt knows what he’s talking about.”
“If he’s been captured, we’ll have to rescue him,” Reid said, glaring at Brandt. He might have to go back to Colorado without seeds, but he wasn’t going back without Tinker.
“You have no idea what you’re saying, kid,” Brandt said. “There’s no point attempting a rescue. If he was captured, they put him in the Tank, which means he’s already dead, or as good as. People don’t come out of there.”
“Think about what your grandfather would want you to do,” Mia said. “Would he want you to risk your life when there’s no hope of winning?”
Reid knew what his grandfather would want. Tinker had told him point-blank what to do if something like this happened. “Forget it. I’m not leaving Ellay without him,” Reid said.
“Don’t be a fool,” Mia said. “You told me you came for seeds, right? Justine can get you seeds. But only if we leave right now.”
“You’re lying,” Reid said, not wanting to believe Mia would try to trick him.
“It’s true,” Justine said. “Where I’m from, my people grow food.”
“Why should I believe you?” Reid said.
“I know the woman you met,” Justine said. “Cumorah is one of my people.”
“You’re saying that to get me to leave.”
“No, I swear,” Justine said. “She has brown hair and brown eyes. She’s about my height. Older than me, but not old enough to be my mother.”
“That could be a lucky guess,” Reid said.
“We don’t have time for this,” Brandt said.
“Wait,” Justine said. “I remember she was married but didn’t have any children. I think she couldn’t have any. She always had this black dog with her. It followed her everywhere.”
Reid bit his lip. This couldn’t be coincidence.
“She’s telling the truth,” Mia said. “If you take her home, you can fill your car with seeds for your people. Can you afford to risk that?”
“Get in the car,” Brandt said. “We’re going now, while we still can.”
Mia was right. They were all right. They should go. Kayla, the baby, everyone back home needed those seeds. He looked at the car for a long moment, but he couldn’t do it.
“I can’t without knowing what’s happened to my grandfather,” he said.
“I’m telling you what’s happened to him,” Brandt said, throwing his hands in the air.
“You don’t know for certain,” Reid said. “What if he’s hiding? If we find out for sure he’s been captured, I’ll accept it and we’ll go. But I have to know, even if I can’t save him.”
“Fine, you go find out,” Brandt said. “I’ll figure out how to drive this thing on my own.”
“I’ll go,” Mia said. “Two minutes inside the Grand and I’ll know what happened.”
“Absolutely not. You’re coming with me and Justine,” Brandt said.
“Look,” Mia said. “Reid said up front that he was not leaving without his grandfather. Now he just wants to know what’s happened to him, so I’m going. It’s the decent thing to do.”
“Thank you,” Reid said, overwhelmed by her compassion.
“When do we decide you’ve been caught and aren’t coming back?” Brandt asked.
“Caught?” Mia said. “Chances are, they’re not even looking for me.”
“But they could be,” Reid said, guilt now overshadowing his gratefulness.
“Trust me, I’ll be fine,” Mia said. “If I’m not back in two hours, go without me.”
“What if you’re wrong? It’s too risky,” Justine said. “Brandt and I will go. No one will suspect us. Brandt can ask another Blade, and we won’t have to go all the way to the Grand.”
“Who’s to say Reid won’t take the car and leave without us?” Brandt said. “Besides, I won’t have you risking the baby. We’re doing this for her.”
“You’re pregnant?” Reid asked.
“Brandt’s right,” Mia said. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll go with Mia,” Brandt said. “Between the two of us, we’ll find out quick.”
“Thank you, honey,” Justine said, throwing her arms around Brandt’s neck.
Reid let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. They’d find Tinker and they’d all get out of Ellay. They had to.
“Reid, I want you and Justine to wait in the car, ready to drive out of here,” Brandt ordered. “If Blades come, drive over them and keep going. Don’t think twice about Mia and me. Get Justine to her people, you understand me, Reid?”
“Hold on,” Justine said. “If we have to leave, we’ll meet at Anaheim Stadium. I’m not going any farther than that without you.”
“I’ll take good care of her,” Reid said. “Just find out what happened to Tinker.”
Mia’s hand slid into his. He pulled her close and kissed her.
“Don
’t leave without me,” she whispered.
He couldn’t imagine leaving her behind. He kissed her again.
Reid and Justine watched Mia and Brandt walk toward the tracks. Justine stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot, her face contorted with concern. But every time Brandt glanced back, she smiled and waved. When Mia glanced back, Reid had to stifle the urge to run after her and go in her place. But he bit his lip and stayed put. This was the best plan to find Tinker. He believed that enough to let her go, and he prayed he wouldn’t regret it.
After a last wave, Brandt and Mia disappeared around a corner.
Reid turned to Justine. “We’d better get in the car. I’ll keep watch, and you can lie down in the back and rest.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you show me how it works?”
Reid was caught off guard. “I, I don’t know.” If they didn’t need him to drive the car, what would prevent them from taking it and leaving him behind?
“No worries,” Justine said. “I was just curious. I’m happy to nap.” She gave a little grin and headed for the car.
Was she plotting against him? He wouldn’t put it past Brandt.
Justine stood at the car trying to figure out how to open the back door.
“Let me help,” Reid said, heading over to her.
Maybe the smart thing would be to make sure she knew how to drive so she could get away if something happened to him. Or maybe that would be incredibly naïve and stupid.
What’s your gut telling you? he imagined Tinker saying.
But he’d tried trusting his gut before, and look where it had gotten them.
Sixty-Seven
The Grand Hotel
Pascal smiled as Brandt shoved Mia into the room.
Mia stumbled but regained her poise quickly. “Chancellor Worth, I’m so pleased to see you again.” She held out her hands to him.
Pascal turned to the collectors that Linus had escorted in. “Is this the woman you saw?”
The small man sniffed and stepped closer, taking a long look, enjoying his moment. “That’s her, though she smelled better.”
Seeds Page 24
