I pocketed Sammie’s clip and managed a couple slow steps forward. I never talked to slaves and had no idea how to start the conversation. I couldn’t say, “Hi there, a Vie named Alex kidnapped my sister last night, and I need you to help me find them.”
I sucked in a deep breath and strode over to him more confidently, ignoring the questioning glances of the other slaves. “Hey.”
He finished wiping his nose and grunted at me.
“You work for the Elite.” I glanced around to see who watched then shifted my back to the building. Keep the widest view possible to see danger coming.
“Who’s asking?” He stuffed the used tissue into his pocket. The veins of his arms wrapped around his muscles and bones like burrowing worms.
“I’m looking for a Vie named Alex. He’s missing a pinky finger.” I kept my voice low.
“Oh yeah, Alex. Sure, everybody knows him.”
He burst out laughing then coughed so hard I thought he was going to puke. Other slaves complained about his exposing everyone—a sick slave was a slower slave, and they might not complete their duties, something Vie found unacceptable. He waved an arm, groaning at them. The pungent scent of stale sweat wafted toward me. He hadn’t bathed in a while. Bet his master didn’t like that.
When he finally regained his breath and caught my serious expression, he said, “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“I need to find him.”
“Is that so?” The man’s dark eyes darted up and down my body. Deep creases lined his sweat-slicked forehead. His cheeks were flushed with fever. “Anemies generally avoid Vie.”
“Have you seen him or not?”
“Listen, kid, I don’t know what you’re up to, and I don’t want to find out. Go annoy someone else.” He stepped into the crosswalk.
I followed him, keeping an eye out for guards. They clustered around the edge of the Elite District. I couldn’t forget that. “Wait. Just tell me if you’ve seen him? Please.” My voice sounded thick.
“I told you to go away. You a sludge brain or something?”
“I need to know.” My eyes burned.
“Stop bothering me, or I’ll make you regret it.” He pushed past me with his shoulder, coughing as he went.
Losing Sammie was the biggest regret I could imagine. Missing a chance to find her, however small, wouldn’t be added to the list. I caught up with him. “Tell me something.”
“You don’t listen, do you?” He spat a wad of bloody phlegm on the sidewalk. Oh, so not good.
“Do you like working for them? I mean, knowing they could drink you dry at any moment.”
His forehead wrinkled. “What?”
“Don’t you hate being tranced all the time or wondering if, or when, you’re going to be drained?”
Sammie would have never run to Alex if it hadn’t been for his ability to control her actions with a simple voice command. These slaves never got to make their own decisions. But I was different. Alex’s commands fell at my feet, useless. Didn’t stop him from taking Sammie, though.
“You’ve got some nerve, kid, talking to me.” He grabbed my collar and slammed me against a building. For being sick, he had considerable strength. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to call a guard, and I don’t think you want that to happen.”
He stalked off, muttering.
This time, I kept my distance. He’d lead me to an Elite’s building. Maybe then I’d find someone else more willing to talk. Not the best plan but the only one I had so far. Tracking the guy was easy enough. Everyone else refused to walk near him, and his hacks served as an audible locating device if too many people separated us.
The few remaining pockets of two and three story brownstones and mucky concrete apartment complexes gave way to shiny, window-clad high-rises the farther south we traveled. New City was exactly that—new. Rebuilding a city took time, according to Vincent Marks. Rumor had it we were way ahead of the other cities and the only one with a biodome project.
Dad, Sammie, and I were the some of the last Anemies to freely enter the city before Abarron had the gates—and the only way in or out of the biodome—permanently locked. Dad had called it part of Abarron’s systematic isolation of the city to ensure its climate suited Vie needs. No more sun to damage their skin. No more need to waste energy on healing each mutation caused by UV rays. No more pesky Anemies moving in to mess things up.
Sunlight glared off the polished surfaces. How many days of real sunlight did we have left? My headache intensified, and my throat burned with thirst. Luckily, no guards in black jumpsuits popped up yet. I’d have to scramble as soon as one showed up.
The hacking slave took a right at the next intersection. I rounded the corner and watched him enter Abarron Pharmaceuticals Annex—one of many laboratories Abarron had built. Not only did the slave work for an Elite, he worked for the father of Vie—or at least one of his scientists.
I shivered despite the sun’s warmth.
Here’s where things entirely broke down. There was no way I could get inside… or in any Vie building for that matter. Not without a plan and a crap ton of luck. And it was only a matter of time before I encountered a guard. I retreated and backed right into a slave.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here.” He grabbed me by the sleeve of my ratty shirt.
“Sorry. I got lost. I’m heading uptown, I swear,” I sputtered, yanking my arm. No use. He held fast. My fault for bumping into him. The slaves had pretty much ignored me, breathing robots without recognition of their surroundings, until something (me) in their surroundings interacted with them.
“Guards, guards! An Anemie!” he shouted.
The guy waved his free hand, attracting the attention of two very large, uber-muscled slaves. Tranced to protect and serve their masters’ property as well as to keep Anemies terrorized, they represented the police force of New City. How nice of them to enter the scene.
They immediately jogged across the street.
“Blazes.”
I kicked the slave in the shin. He howled, releasing my sleeve. Freed, I darted around the corner.
“Stop him!” someone yelled.
Half a dozen slaves obeyed, corralling me. The guards shouted more orders for the slaves to block my escape. The mindless workers tugged at my shirt, tried to trip me, and stepped into my path like a pack of zombies.
“Let go!” I swung or scratched at anyone who got in my way.
Someone pinned me by the wrist. “I got him!”
I jabbed him the gut with my elbow.
He doubled over, clutching his belly. I used his back as a springboard to launch myself through the crowd.
Unencumbered by dozens of strangers’ limbs, I wove through the streets, but the guards kept up. Their footsteps echoed off the pavement and grew louder with every block.
I didn’t have long before my body gave out. Anemies weren’t built for excessive exercise. I needed to lose them fast.
“Hey, Anemie, get back here,” a guard shouted. “You two—go around. We’ll surround him.”
A pair of guards veered right down a side street. I dashed left, slipping just in front of a speeding delivery truck marked Red Springs, the most popular blood brand. The driver honked his horn.
Winded from a muscle cramp lodged deep in my right side, I grunted with each step.
Soon, the slap of my feet against the sidewalk was the only sound. They wouldn’t have quit chasing me…
I slowed. No black jumpsuits charged after me. Maybe they didn’t pass the Elite District’s border. I circled north and didn’t let myself stop until I passed Fifty-Fifth Street—solid midtown territory.
Just as relief settled in my bones, I hooked a right and skidded to a halt. Two guards—different from the Elite District ones (they didn’t wear E-shaped pins)—stood side by side, practically taking up the whole sidewalk with their combined bulk.
“You been running from someone?” one asked.
“No,” I wheezed.
“Hey, guys. You got any spare food?” I put up my hands and grinned like a sludge brain. Good old rule number one: avoidance.
“Like we’d give anything to an Anemie.”
His partner grimaced. “Don’t bother talking to him. The anemia wastes their brains.”
“I’m hungry.” I shrugged, reaching out a hand. The dumber I acted, the less threatening and more convincing I became.
“Ignore him. He’ll go away.”
The other guard smirked but kept silent.
“Please, anything. Even half a pellet. Food or water, I don’t care.” I showed my empty palms, stepping closer. For once, chapped lips worked in my favor.
The guard on the left clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Move on unless you want a beating.”
“All right, man, sorry. You guys need to relax. So jumpy.” I waved my hands at them like a spaz.
The guards’ communicators buzzed. A muffled voice crackled on the airwave. “Be on the lookout for an Anemie male, around sixteen or seventeen, with long dirty blond hair and light brown eyes. He’s wearing a dark shirt and jeans. He assaulted several slaves while trying to enter the Elite District.”
My abdomen squeezed tighter than a clamp. I grinned at the guards who narrowed their eyes at me in unison.
They flexed their hands into fists. They enjoyed this part. The one on the left grabbed hold of my shirt and hurled me to the ground like discarded laundry. I kicked his knees. He fell, growling obscenities. I sprung up and leapt onto him, using my left hand to cut off his windpipe and my right hand to snatch his Zapper. He whirled toward the other guard while trying to swipe at my hand. I shocked his partner before delivering a jolt of electricity to the scruff of his neck.
I snitched the other Zapper and ran. At this point, anything came in handy, especially now that the whole Elite Guard would be coming after me.
So much for staying under the radar.
’d blown my chance of sneaking into the Elite District to find Sammie. On top of that, as if staying alive wasn’t hard enough, the entire Guard searched for me. On top of that, Vie toxin continued to course through my veins.
Toxin I’d thought until last night was lethal. So why wasn’t I dead?
I gripped the Zappers I’d stolen tighter, one for each fist. I needed another plan. Every moment I spent standing out in the open was another moment wasted.
The slap of quick footsteps closed in.
I held up the Zappers, ready.
“Dude! How the heck did you do that?” A kid with stringy, brown hair ran up to me. Deep, purple circles hung under his eyes. Wearing a stained, plaid shirt, torn jeans, and an open face, he looked way too happy to be an Anemie, but an Anemie he was. The dirt and grime? Dead giveaway.
“Do what?” I replied.
“You just beat two guards, duh. I’ve never seen anything like it. Man, that was awesome!” He laughed then held up a hand for a high five.
I left him hanging. My hands were full. “I’m glad you got a show, but it’s over, and I don’t have time to talk about it.”
I strode away, heading north. It took me away from the Elite District and Sammie, but fewer guards trolled up there, making it a relatively safer place to regroup. One radio announcement, and traveling the streets got a lot harder. Too bad Vie closed the underground tunnels soon after they started restructuring the city. They’d thought it would solve the Anemie rat problem. Nope, we’d just moved aboveground.
The kid settled in next to me. “Yeah, tick tock, the whole Guard is coming.” He frowned. “That didn’t rhyme. Would’ve been cooler if I’d thought of a rhyme.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He shrugged. “Where are you going anyway?”
I sighed. “I don’t need a sidekick.”
“No, you need a place to hide.” His I’m-suffering-but-happy-about-it attitude seemed genuine enough. Genuine like a wool sweater, not like leather.
“And I suppose you have a great idea?”
“Yep. The closest underground.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious, but all the access points are locked.”
“Not at the Market Street station.” He grinned.
“When did it open?” Sounded too good to be real. And good things were almost always traps.
“It’s not. I got a way in.”
“Uh.” I scanned the pedestrians for black uniforms. The sooner I got off the street, the sooner I’d be able to regroup. But I might be heading toward more danger by accepting this kid’s offer. For all I knew, he had a gang waiting to jump me as soon as we reached the tunnel.
He waved his hand in front of my face. “Yo, you in there?”
“Yeah.” I ignored the way echoes of his fingers trailed in space. And by ignored, I meant cringed. Funny vision things were starting up again.
“Well, you in?”
I hesitated, checking the sidewalk for puddles of concrete. Still solid. For now.
He spat on the ground. It settled into the pores of the pavement. “Looks like you need help. I can offer it.”
“Why help me?” We didn’t know each other. He didn’t owe me anything.
“Us Anemies need to stick together.”
“Yeah, so Vie can kill us easier. Less work when we’re in a group.”
He frowned. “Whatever. You just kicked two guards’ asses. We could use you.”
“So you’re helping me by letting me help you?” I air-quoted help.
“Nah, man. That’s not what I meant. You need a place to chill, and I could use some practice with Zappers. What do you say? Deal?” He glanced at my hands, or more accurately, the stolen weapons.
Kid had a point. I did need help. Who was I to say no? “Yeah, all right.”
“Cool. I’m Zack, by the way.” We shook hands—after I stuffed a Zapper in my back pocket—sealing the deal.
“I’m Justin.” We set off at a fast walk. Slower than I liked, but faster than I could manage for any distance. My limbs felt heavier with every step. I’d used a lot of energy fighting and running. Zack was more than right. I needed to chill, AKA crash, AKA rest, AKA heal.
“You don’t like to talk much, do you?” Zack asked.
“No.”
He fell in line next to me, taking two steps for every one of mine. “What’d you do to piss off the Guard?”
“I was in the Elite District.”
“That’s suicide.”
I didn’t answer. I also didn’t offer why I needed to go back.
“I know a guy who’s pretty good at sneaking into places. He’s kinda bristly though, but if you want to mess around in the Eee Dee, he’s your man.” Kid must’ve thought he was super cool by stretching out “E” and “D.”
“You go there a lot?”
“All the time.”
I shifted my collar and the movement opened the wound, sending fresh toxin into my system. Nausea swelled in my gut, and an intense heat surged through my entire body. I halted, bending over to catch my breath. Sweat dripped from my nose onto the sidewalk, plop, plop. Shit.
“Dude, you’re bleeding.” Zack pointed at my neck.
“I’m fine.” I blocked his curious finger before it had a chance to touch me.
“Those are puncture marks. And the skin around it is all swollen and black and stuff.”
Zack circled around me like a chihuahua. I knew what they were; Vie loved the damn snappy things. Dressed them up in stupid outfits, painted their nails, added bows to their heads, embedded diamonds on their collars, and carried them in little purses like spoiled rats.
“Just forget it.” I swatted at him.
He retreated a step. “You’ve been bitten. When?”
“Last night.”
“And you’re still alive?”
The buildings swayed, and my knees wobbled. Please, stop. “Again with the Captain Obvious thing,” I wheezed.
&nb
sp; “Whoa.” He hooked his elbow under my armpit. “You don’t look so good. Maybe you should rest.”
“I can’t. I have to find Sammie.” My vision darkened.
“Who’s Sammie?”
“Never mind.” It was too much to tell. Not that I could manage to spit it out at this point.
“You got any meds?”
“Meds? Just tell me how to get underground, and I’ll take care of myself.” I stumbled ahead, lamely shrugging off Zack’s grip, and nearly nosedived to the concrete.
He snorted. “Dude, you need help. Like, serious help.”
I grunted, tripping over my own feet. Hard to believe that a few minutes before, I’d beaten two guards.
“You can’t even walk on your own. So suck it up. I’m helping you.” He shifted his arm around me to carry more of my weight. Totally awkward, since he was at least a foot shorter, but also totally appreciated. We shuffled along, one gimpy step after the other.
“Why?” I asked again, focusing on my toes.
Anemies didn’t help Anemies for free. I know, I know, he offered a trade—a hideout for a Zapper training session, but still, taking time to help another Anemie could get you killed.
“Because someone did it for me. If we don’t help each other out, no one would survive,” he said.
“What happened… that you needed help?”
“Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s lived through a Vie raid.”
I lifted my head, causing a fresh wave of dizziness to wash over me. “What?”
We crossed a side street.
“Hold up. I need a break. You’re heavy,” he said.
We perched our butts against the crumbling wall of a concrete building. Closing my eyes made the swirling worse, so I stared at a crack in the sidewalk. I took deep breaths, one after another, but no matter how much air poured in I couldn’t get enough. My head pounded. Pounded. The crack widened with every breath. Black ooze poured out, pooled at my feet, shot into my eyes, and down my throat.
Dawn of the Vie (Immortal Aliens Book 1) Page 5
