She was so focused on her daughter, as if her direct gaze alone was keeping Kendra safe, that she missed the first rock. Suddenly, the platform shuddered, and Kendra cried out. Then Jenna saw a rock fly through the air and smash into one of the spindly support legs of the platform. The platform wobbled again, and Kendra whimpered, clasping tightly to the edge. Jenna hunted wildly around her for the assailant, but she couldn’t pick anyone out of the crowd. Some faces looked just as horrified as she felt. Others were still staring at the insects in undisguised awe. Yet there were others shouting and hurling insults. Clearly someone had decided to force Kendra to confront the roaches directly.
“Stop it!” Jenna screamed. “Leave her alone!” Vanda grabbed her arm, but Jenna yelled again. “She’s just a little girl!” Pulling her arm free of Vanda’s restraining hand, Jenna started forward just as a third large rock careened into the pit and smashed into a platform leg. It buckled, and the platform tilted crazily. Kendra slid to the side, her hands scrabbling to find another hold on the platform.
Jenna didn’t think. She dropped to the edge of the pit and swung herself over the side, dropping with a jarring thud, her legs buckling underneath her. She caught a glimpse of even more roaches slipping through the holes into the pit, and then she stumbled toward the collapsing platform, stomping viciously on the roaches in her path. The platform collapsed completely, and Kendra’s screams spiked into her head, jolting into her muscles and impelling her to move, to save her child. Jenna hurled herself forward toward the heap of jagged wooden boards, blood rushing in her ears and drowning out all other sound. She could feel the creepy tickling as some of the roaches managed to get onto her legs, and then the searing agony started. The poison was seeping through her thin clothing, but she pushed forward doggedly, finally reaching the platform and yanking the boards off. Kendra had curled into a ball on the ground, her hands over her face, but she was miraculously clear of any of the roaches. Jenna slid her hands under her daughter’s torso and heaved her up, gasping in pain as a roach made its way up her back.
One step. Two steps. Her legs were going numb. In one way, it was a blessed relief for some of the fire to ease, but she felt like she was trying to move across the pit with concrete blocks attached instead of limbs. Kendra had buried her face into her mother’s chest and hadn’t looked up yet. Jenna shifted her daughter’s weight in her arms and stumbled, going down on one knee. She was immediately surrounded by an uncountable swarm of the roaches, madly pushing against one another in their frenzy to reach Jenna and Kendra. More pain seared up her side and down her arm, and she choked back a sob. So far Kendra was still clear of the roaches, but that wouldn’t last. She had to get her daughter to safety. She had to!
“Help me!” she yelled frantically, scanning the faces she could see above the edge of the pit. Surely all those Rorans wouldn’t just watch them both die like this!
Kendra opened her eyes and looked up at her mother’s face. She batted away a roach that was crawling up Jenna’s neck. “Dina!” she whispered. “Help my mommy!” Then her eyes fluttered closed again.
Gritting her teeth, Jenna shoved herself to feet, a hoarse scream ripping from her throat. She shuffled one step forward, and the horde of roaches backed away from her. Her eyes widened, and she dragged herself on. A space opened in front of her, just a small clearing free of the clacking insects, but enough for Jenna to safely move across the pit. She felt several roaches drop from her body and they skittered away from her. When she reached the edge of the pit, she looked upward beseechingly. The crowd was chaotic, people were yelling and clapping, and she could even hear sobs. There were also hisses and angry shouts.
“Please,” she whispered. There was no way she could climb out of the pit, and who knew how long Kendra’s supernatural “friend” would be able to keep away the roaches.
The rope ladder suddenly dropped at her feet. A guard scrambled down, and with one wary look at the mass of roaches only a short distance away, he pulled Kendra from her arms and tossed her over his shoulder before hurrying back up the ladder. Jenna tried to follow him, but her legs were still too numb. She couldn’t bend her knees.
Hopelessly, she looked back at the roaches. With Kendra gone, they were moving forward again, drawn by whatever energy she apparently radiated as well.
“Hold on!” a voice shouted from above, and Jenna had just enough presence of mind to wrap the rope ladder around her forearms before she grabbed on and someone hauled the ladder back up.
The giant roaches converged on the spot just below her, teeming with frustration as they searched for the source of the qualian energy in vain.
39. Lilah’s Deal
“I hungry,” the little boy whined.
“I know,” Lilah answered soothingly. “I have a ration bar if you want it.” He shook his head angrily. His lower lip trembled. She suppressed a sigh. He couldn’t start to cry again. They were going to have half the block swarming them if he did. Why had no one told her that toddlers were such a pain?
Erik didn’t want to walk. Then he didn’t want to be carried. Then he wanted a drink. Then he had to pee. Then he wanted his mommy. Now he was hungry.
They had made it only one block in the hour since they’d left the safety of their basement hideout. At this rate it would take a miracle to make it back to the Quintan Edge. The streets were empty, but there was no guarantee they would stay empty for much longer. It was still the safest time of day, though. Most of the dangerous people out at night would have gone to ground for the day, and the lazy ones who might harass them during the day weren’t up yet. In the dim predawn light, it would also be harder for any roving rogue security officers to spot them.
Hopefully.
She’d managed to cajole Erik into walking another half a block before he yanked his hand out of hers and sat down on the sidewalk, refusing to move another step.
Stars grant me patience, she thought wearily. Now what?
“Erik, what are you doing? Don’t you want to see your daddy?”
He stubbornly refused to answer or even look at her.
“We can’t see your daddy if we don’t keep walking,” she reminded.
He still didn’t move.
Lilah sighed. “All right. Do you want me to carry you?”
“No!” he shouted. Lilah winced as Erik’s voice echoed off the alley walls.
“Come on,” she wheedled. “If we can keep walking, we can get back home. Then I will get you a giant ice cream sundae. How does that sound?” Still no response from Erik. In desperation she tried to pick him up. He flailed and kicked his legs and then started to scream in earnest.
Oh no.
She yanked him off the ground, deciding the time for persuasion was over. Trotting down the rest of the alleyway with a twisting, sliding, biting (ouch!) boy was awkward at best. She’d almost reached the end of the alley when a shadow form stepped into the opening, blocking her way. Lilah skidded to a halt, trying to get a good grip on the squirming bundle of fury in her arms so she could dash back the other direction. Then it registered that the form in front of her was slight and shorter than her by at least half a head.
It was a girl with long, scraggly black locks. Her face was pinched and thin, but her eyes were wide with surprise at the sight of Lilah and Erik. Her eyes darted down the alley and back to Lilah. Then she waved frantically and quietly slipped back the way she had come. Lilah didn’t hesitate; she hurried right after the girl. Of course, it could be a trap, she knew that. Because it was a young girl who was leading them forward, it was even more likely to be a trap. How did scrawny young girls survive in the Red Zone?
By using stealth and trickery and even betrayal. That’s what she had done.
However, her options were almost nonexistent, and she had to do something. She needed time to calm Erik down, and she needed somewhere to hide while she did so. There was at least a chance the girl wo
uld help them. Especially if Lilah offered payment.
At the end of the narrow alley between the buildings, the street was large and wide. At least four transports would fit across its width. The girl who had beckoned had leaped up the concrete stoop of the building edging the alley and was rapping quietly at the front door. It cracked open, and she glanced back at Lilah, urging her forward with her fingers. Lilah shifted Erik again and started up the steps. He stopped screaming abruptly as she followed the girl through the doorway into the house. Someone pushed the door closed with a soft click, and Lilah paused for a moment, her eyes trying to adjust to the gloom. There were no lights of any kind in the house. Erik gave up fighting her and clung to her neck, burrowing his head back into her shoulder.
Thank the universe for small miracles.
Then a pale glow in the corner announced that someone had lit a solar lamp. There was enough light to see, more or less. Lilah found herself staring at a horde of at least eight young faces—the oldest probably ten or eleven years old and the youngest looked barely older than Erik. There were no adults at all, not that Lilah could see. The girl who had led them inside had disappeared.
“Hi,” she said pleasantly, though she kept her voice low. There was no telling who else was in the building; it was better not to announce her presence. “Thank you so much. I couldn’t get Erik to calm down.”
None of the kids spoke. They just stared at Lilah, faces ranging from terrified to wary to curious.
“Are you here all alone?” she asked. Why had the girl brought her in here? Did they need help?
Finally, just when Lilah was about to ask about her mysterious vanishing guide, the girl reentered the room, leading a frail old lady who shuffled along. Her eyes were milky white with cataracts.
“Who do we have here?” the lady asked in a soft, melodious voice.
“My name is Lilah Armenta, and this is Erik,” Lilah answered, not sure if the woman could even see them.
“Welcome, Lilah,” the woman said warmly. “I am Luzia Vincze. Dania here heard a child screaming and thought you might need refuge.”
“We do, thank you,” Lilah said gratefully. This was a miracle, though she still wasn’t sure she could trust them. Not yet.
“You are welcome here. I confess, we are quite in need of your help, actually,” the woman continued. She shuffled toward a rocking chair with a frayed and faded cushion, her hand still on the girl’s shoulder. Luzia sank into her chair with a groan. Most of the other children settled themselves on the floor around her, though the older girl (Dania?) remained standing behind the rocking chair. A couple of the younger ones, probably bored already by adults talking, scampered out of the room. Lilah peeked at Erik’s face. He had his eyes open, and he was plainly listening intently—but judging by the death grip on her shirt, he was not willing to get down yet when there were strangers in the room. She glanced around and found a plain, rickety stool and lowered herself onto it.
Now, to business.
“What do you need my help with?” Lilah asked, getting straight to the point.
“Do you know the boss of this area?” Luzia wanted to know. Lilah shifted uncomfortably. If the woman wanted her to intervene with the local boss, Lilah was going to flee right back into the street, screaming little boy and all. There was no way she was messing with trouble that pit deep.
“No, I don’t. We were trying to escape from . . . another crew, and we ended up over here. I’m not even sure where we are.” She hated to admit it. Anything that made her look weak also made her a mark.
“Well, you’re in the Vincze block,” the woman said solemnly.
“The Vincze block?” repeated Lilah. Luzia had said her last name was Vincze. Surely she wasn’t implying that she was the local boss?
“I came to the Red Zone many, many years ago,” she explained. “We emigrated from Caligua, my husband, my four sons, and me. We couldn’t find anywhere to live and ended up here. My husband died that first year, and I was left on my own with the boys. It was . . . a struggle.” She didn’t elaborate about what her life had been like, and Lilah didn’t ask for details. She was pretty sure it had been dirty and gritty and horrific.
“Eventually I lost three of my boys to turf wars. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get them to stay away from the crews. My eldest son, however, rose to crew boss of this area.” She sighed deeply. “He is not the young man I once knew. I failed him greatly.”
Lilah listened sympathetically. She had failed Damon too, though she had tried everything to keep him straight.
“But though he has taken a path I could never condone, he does offer protection to his aging mother. So when I rescued Dania—she was the first—from the vile den of abuse she was trapped in, nobody did anything about it. Since then I have taken in what children I could—orphans, runaways, those who escape from virtual slavery, all that I could. My son has turned a blind eye, and as long as we remain here, within his block, we are safe. Relatively.”
“Surely there is some way to get them out of the zone!” protested Lilah. “There are shelters in Omphalos that will take in children.” They took in me and my brothers, she added silently.
“But who will help the other children who may need helping?” Luzia’s frail hand sought Dania’s and gripped it tightly. “There are others in need of escape. How can I send these little ones out of the zone by themselves?”
Lilah didn’t agree; surely it was better to at least rescue these children by getting them out of the zone. Or she would lose them just as surely as she had her sons as they got older. But she didn’t say anything. There was no point in arguing with the old woman. Especially since she was the one offering Lilah refuge at the moment.
“We’ve been praying for help since last week. I believe you are the answer to that prayer.”
“Me?” Lilah was dumbfounded. She’d been accused of being many things during her life, but the answer to someone’s prayers had never been one of them.
“Yes. We lost Theo last week.” There was a moment of silence while Luzia struggled to get control of her emotion, her face wrinkling up. By “gone” did she mean that he had left and joined a crew? Or did she mean he had died? Dania’s face was like stone. Lilah wondered if that was because she wasn’t sorry this Theo was gone or if she cared so much she had walled herself off from it.
“Theo and Dania used to go for the food. We have rights to buy at the Vincze storehouse, but someone has to get there. Dania can’t carry enough food by herself—and every time she has tried this week, it has been stolen from her on the way home.” Dania scowled as if that simple statement of fact was a personal attack.
Lilah reflected on this dilemma in growing dismay. Many of the people who lived a long distance from the borders of the zone got their food from local storehouses run by the crew bosses. If you paid your graft, the boss considered you as under his protection—meaning that at least in his block his crew wouldn’t bother you. You also were granted rights to buy supplies at the crew storehouse, which made it possible for many of these people to survive. Otherwise the inner zone would have become a complete wasteland.
“If your son is the local boss,” Lilah finally said, “surely he can arrange for you to get food!”
“Wellll,” Luzia dragged out the word, “he is not exactly . . . secure . . . as crew leader. There are some factions that would like to see him replaced. I think there is a group specifically attacking Dania to make him look weak,” Luzia added matter-of-factly.
Lilah did see. The man probably cared about his mother, and his block knew that. With sneaky little attacks going on against her that he couldn’t manage to stop, he would be seen as weak by any rivals—within the crew and without. Others would wonder how much it was worth it to pay him for protection if he couldn’t even provide it to his own mother. He might not actually be a weak boss, but if someone challenged him, he risked attack on
another front. The rats would be hiding in the shadows, waiting to swarm him. Obviously, since he wasn’t successfully keeping his mother’s ward from attacks, his leadership was teetering.
This was a no-win situation for Lilah, one she couldn’t possibly help with. She tried to break the unwelcome news as gently as possible. “I appreciate your willingness to take us in, but you see, I just need to get safely back out of the zone myself. We don’t live here. I have an apartment in Quintan Tower. So while I could help you today, it’s only a temporary solution.”
The old woman’s shoulders slumped, and her smile faded. “I see,” she said quietly.
There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then Lilah rushed in hurriedly.
“Why don’t you leave the Red Zone?” Lilah urged. “I’ll help you, and I know others who would as well.”
Luzia shook her head. “How would we live? We get by now because the five oldest children work as sweepers outside the Electrostatic plant. No one will hire children to work outside the zone.”
“No,” Lilah admitted. “But they will be safe. They will have a shot at a future without joining a crew.” Then, she probed the most gingerly of all. “Wouldn’t your son at least give you a gift of some kind—enough money to perhaps start over? No one would have to know, and you would be gone.” And not posing any kind of liability to him here, she added silently. Surely it would be worth it to this man to have his mother removed from all this danger?
Dania spoke up for the first time.
“Nonna Luzia, please, let’s go. Anything has to be better than this,” she pleaded. The she glanced at Lilah and straightened. “I can handle myself out there,” she said proudly, “but the little ones—I can’t protect them. I can’t even make sure they get fed,” she added bitterly.
Rift (Roran Curse Book 3) Page 34
