by Rachel West
“Impossible, no one can get into the hallway. The front door has been impossible to get through for years.” But then I remember the day the Praetors came for Jaxon. When they broke through the entryway and searched the building for him. Would the landlord finally have replaced the door after that?
Jaxon’s eyes widen with a fear that hurts me to see in him. “Annie,” he says her name like it means something. She shoots him a frightened glance before dropping her eyes back to the ground.
“What?” I ask
“Annie. The Praetors will know by now who she is. Their records will tell them of her family and they will guess it was you who broke her out. They can find where you live.”
And he’s right. The Praetors, they know everything. They are everywhere. My knees go weak and I stumble forward. Jaxon offers me his arm and I grab onto it, digging my nails into his flesh like a hawk. “No,” I say. “Not now. They can’t be here now.”
“They may not know we are here. Perhaps it is merely someone set to watch, waiting on your return. We have time.”
“Okay,” I say with a nod. I can’t let fear paralyze me. We need to gather our stuff and go. But where to? Red’s? If they can find me, they can find him. All the cameras we saw at the orchard will have caught his face as easy as mine. I don’t know anyone else. I have no other close friends. I close my eyes, unconsciously rocking back and forth as I try to think.
“The Hollows,” I whisper softly when the thought comes to me. But my eyes catch on Jaxon’s tattoos. They would destroy him down there. I’m not sure if I can protect him from everyone. And I can’t -- I can’t have him killing my people even if it is in self-defense.
“The what?” Jaxon says but I don’t repeat myself. The Praetors - god knows what they’ve done to my apartment. If they know where I live, if they’ve known since we broke Annie out, they’ve had weeks to place bugs and hide cameras. I shudder, thinking of the Praetors listening in on me. Watching me.
I look over to Annie. Despite her fifteen years she could pass for twelve. A child still -- and I know the type of people that live in the Hollows. I know what they could do to her. I lived through it myself and parts of me didn’t make it out. Parts of me will always be stuck back in the Hollows.
Despite that, despite it all, it may be our only chance… After everything we went through to save my sister only to lose her again. I can’t stand for that. I won’t. We can go to the Hollows, but it will only be short term. A place to hide until things cool down. And then we will find out way out, because I know with Jaxon and Annie and Red by my side there will always be hope. Always.
“Grab your stuff,” I tell Jaxon. “I know a place we can go. Annie,” I turn to my sister and point to the kitchen “There are bags under the sink, gather as much food as you can. Anything that won’t rot if it’s left out.”
Annie’s mouth sets in a stubborn line but we don’t have time for me to explain things to her. “Just do it,” I whisper harshly.
My heart pounds in fear as I gather clothes from my dresser. Enough for both Annie and I. They’ll be loose, but it will be better than the too-small pants she has been wearing since we rescued her.
I drop to my knees and pull out all the knickknacks from under my bed. I quickly sort through them - a pile to leave behind and a pile I can’t do without. It’s funny, how little my life actually comes down to: A necklace that belonged to my mother. A photo of my family when it was still whole. The map Jaxon drew for me. But what did any of it matter? These physical possessions. I have Annie. I have Red. And maybe, just maybe, I have Jaxon. I would give any of it up, to keep them safe. To keep my family with me.
Our escape is surprisingly orderly. Not like the frantic dash from the orchards. We all gather our things in silence. Jaxon jumps down the fire escape and I toss the bags to him. Annie tails behind me, her sullen silence the only reminder of her presence.
The watcher or Praetor or whatever he is outside the door doesn’t notice either our coming or our going. I have no doubt they will soon enough. They will know we are back in the city and I wonder if I will spend the rest of my life running. The Great Uniter must know Jaxon was involved in my sister’s rescue; I can’t imagine he would let anyone get away with that, not even his own son.
As I urge Annie down that fire escape a neighbor walks down the street nearest us. The old man who lives in the building two doors down whose name I can never remember. He gives a curious look to the pile of bags at Jaxon’s feet. I wave, trying to appear casual, while inside my heart threatens to beat from my chest. The man smiles like we share a secret then he continues past.
“This way,” I urge Jaxon and Annie forward. I am weighed down by two heavy bags, one hanging off each shoulder. I don’t lead Jaxon and Annie straight to the Hollows. I’m not that foolish. Jaxon would be dead the moment he stepped foot in there. At least he’s smart enough to always keep his face covered when we’re on the streets. But in the Hollows secrets have a way of getting out.
So I lead them to Red. Red who spent years protecting me. Keeping away pimps and cutthroats both. Red has something of a reputation from his years spent fighting in the Coliseum. A regular face, a crowd favorite, he might still have some pull in the Hollows even though it’s been years since either of us have been back.
I leave Annie and Jaxon in the tight alley across the street from Red’s apartment. “If you see any Praetors run,” I tell them. “Get on the roofs if you can. If we get split up--” I pause to think then turn to Annie, “Do you remember where your old school is?” She nods. “Good, if we get split up, bring Jaxon there and I will come find you. Okay?”
She nods again, a short jerky thrust of her head but there is something... “Promise me,” I say seriously. “Don’t leave him behind.”
“Sure, whatever,” she says but I can’t tell if she means it. I shoot Jaxon a wary look, but his attention is elsewhere. His eyes are caught on the lit up Presidio who’s purple and green lights turn the night sky to poison. The wind catches his hood and exhaustion is painted stark across his face.
Fear is a physical presence in my veins. Eating me up from within with each beat of my heart. I feel like now that I finally have Jaxon and Annie I am starting to lose them. Beautiful Annie. My only true family left. I should trust her. She’s my blood. My heart. But I hardly recognize her. Gone is the sweet, serious little girl of five years ago. She’s changed and I can’t help but feel it’s my fault. If only I’d protected her like I was supposed to. If only I’d stood up to the Praetors like my mother did, rather than hide in the corner like a coward. If only I’d been there for her she would never have ended up like this.
And Jaxon? Cold. Walled off. Something has changed that I can’t put my finger on. A growing distance that I’d do anything to stop.
“I’ll be back,” I promise them, hoping with every part of me, that they’ll still be here when I am.
CHAPTER 3
“Red?” I whisper into the apartment as I push the door open. It’s strangely quiet. There’s always been music blasting or a TV running, even though there isn’t a whole lot to listen to these days. The door catches on something when it’s halfway open; I frown then slip through the small gap.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness. The blinds are askew, the slats pointing in every direction and layering the room in abstract shadows.
“Red!” my scream cuts violently through the silence.
I dash into his apartment. Everything is destroyed. Torn apart. The Praetors have been here. “Red!” My vision goes two dimensional and all I hear is the ringing in my ears as I focus in the details. The couch is turned on its side. The TV is shattered into hundreds of pieces. Doors are pulled from walls and left hanging by small metal hinges.
I convince myself I smell blood.
I search his entire apartment and I can’t find him. Both bedrooms are empty despite the carnage of furniture covering the floor. Bathroom, kitchen, it’s all the same. Destruct
ion but no Red.
My legs collapse out beneath me and I fall to the ground. I rub at my eyes, wiping away the beginning of tears. I swallow hard and try to control the shaking in my hands. Red is my best friend. My brother. Everything. The only family I’ve had for the last few years. The one person who has always kept me safe. Who cheered me up when I couldn’t make it through another day. For as long as he’s known me he’s been there to hold me together, to keep the pieces from falling apart.
I stare down at my hands. Examining the scrapes and scars. The dirty, chewed down nails. The dry, cracked skin. I remember how Red use to always make fun of my hands. How they were so tiny compared to his. I remember the bright flash of his smile, a toothy grin that so few ever got to see.
I take a deep breath calming myself and fight away the memories. Now isn’t the time. I have to find Red. If the Praetors arrested him -- I’ll just have to rescue him. We saved my sister and now we’ll save Red. It’s as simple as that. But first I need to get Annie and Jaxon to safety.
Getting to my feet is more difficult than it should be. Although my mind is resolute, my body rebels. My legs are weak and shaky. My skin feels sticky and warm.
“Evie? What are you doing here?”
I twist my body around. Red? “Red!” I throw myself to him. I wrap my arms around his body and burrow my face into his chest. Deep, heavy sobs force their way out of me. Red closes his arms around my back, pulling me in tight. Everything is right again.
“Hey, hey” he whispers soothingly. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Annie?”
I pull back and tilt my head up to him. “What? No. I--” I can’t say it. I can’t say aloud that I thought he was dead. “The Praetors,” I try to explain.
“They found you?”
“No, you idiot. They found you.”
“Oh,” he says, and then it dawns on him “I’m sorry. I was going to come find you. They came minutes after I arrived. A dozen of them – idiots, the whole bunch. Heard them from a mile away. As they were banging their way up the stairs I crawled up to the roof. They searched my place,” he looks around and smiles wryly. “Then left. I thought I heard someone else here - I figured they’d set a guard so I was coming down to take care of him.”
“You were going to kill me?” I try to make a joke, to lighten the mood, but the words are feeble.
“Not you kiddo,” Red runs his hands down the back of my head, fingers catching in the stray strands of my hair. “Never you.”
I shake him off and hold him at arm’s length. “We need to go somewhere else. They know who you are, they know who I am. They’re looking for us and they aren’t going to stop. I was thinking--”
“The Hollows,” Red cuts me off and we share a smile.
“Yeah,” I nod. “Can you get us in? Keep us safe?”
“You and Annie, no problem. But don’t you think it’s time for your Millennial to go home? He’s had his fun.”
“No,” I say firmly. “Jaxon’s given up everything to help us. To help me. He’s in danger too.”
“He’s the one putting us in danger. If he was gone all of this could go away. You say he cares about you but every moment he sticks around brings us closer to the grave. How long do you think he’ll last in the Hollows? How long until he turns on us?”
“Don’t,” I raise a hand to cut Red off. “Even if he leaves it won’t make us any safer. Besides, I made him a promise. How many times have you told me your word is the only thing to bargain with when you have nothing?”
“Is that why you’re doing it? A promise?” Red asks meaningfully. He always did know me too well.
“Of course,” I repeat the lie that neither of us believes.
***
The entrance to the Hollows is well hidden in an old, crumbled church. I think it must have once been a beautiful thing. You can still see it in the arch of the towers, the remnants of broken stained glass. But now it’s like everything else in the Westwick Slums. Beaten down and broken. A thin layer of ash coats everything in the vicinity, softening sharp edges. The outline of the Crematorium towers above only a few streets away, the light ashfall constant at this hour. I shudder, remembering the fragmented visions of the night Jaxon and I took shelter there.
We creep around to the backside of the church. An old statue of an angel watches us with benevolent eyes. Grey stone slowly overcome by moss. Wings cracked and crumbling but flared out in welcome embrace. A graveyard fills the back. Ragged grass that hasn’t been trimmed in years dances quietly in the wind. Half the gravestones are tilted or fallen over completely. In Haven they stopped burying people nearly two hundred years ago. Now we are nothing but ash when we die.
“A church?” Jaxon asks with curiosity.
“Not quite,” I respond. I don’t explain about the tunnels that branch out beneath the church. The hidden ways and hidden rooms. Easier to show him. The Hollows is a strange place. Dark and full of horror. But there is also something beautiful about it. A place for the lost and broken. The pieces of society that no one wants. A cluttered collection in an ancient museum.
I share a look with Red. He knows - he’s been there. It’s not something you can explain to an outsider. Especially not a Millennial.
“When we’re in -- Don’t talk. To anyone, okay?”
Jaxon arches one eyebrow as if to say, who, me? And his look is all innocence covered in glass edges.
“Trust me this time,” I cut him off before he can argue. “Please.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Red butts in. I shoot him a glare for the interruption. “What?” he raises his hands. “You know it’s true. He’ll never be able to hide his tattoos. And the minute he opens his mouth they’ll know he’s from up there,” Red points at the sky, towards Crescent City.
I look at Jaxon. Really look at him. His black hair hangs loose around his face, grown longer since we first met. Bright green eyes flash in the fading light and there’s something in them, something that makes him seem somehow more than the rest of us. His family tattoos draw attention to his high cheekbones and sculpted jaw. Even now, standing in the arched shadow of a broken angel with nothing but uncertainty ahead he stands with his shoulders thrown back, with his head unbowed, and even if just a show of confidence, it’s a believable one.
There is nothing inconspicuous about Jaxon Prayer.
Red is right but there isn’t anything to be done for it. All it would take someone is one good look at Jaxon and everything would be over. They’d know what he was and then what? I shake my head. We don’t have the luxury to think that far in the future. We need a place to lay low and the only place in the city where the Praetors won’t come sniffing around is in the Hollows.
“You’re right,” I say to Red. I shrug my shoulders at Jaxon. “Sorry. But he is.”
“Great,” Red says sarcastically. “Now that we’ve got the obvious over with, do you think we could move along?”
To enter the Hollows you have to go through one of the old tombs. The door hangs broken in half - appearing easy enough to just push aside. But they’ve rigged it somehow, so only someone already within can open it.
Red knocks against the stone door. The sound is nearly lost as the thick rock absorbs the vibrations.
“Who’s there?” A rough voice demands.
“It’s Red. And some…friends.”
“I don’t know no Red and friends.”
“Come on, just let us in,” I plead. I shoot a glance around the graveyard then up to the sky. The Praetors must know we’re back in Haven by now. They have to be searching for us. I listen, breath still, for the sound of h-cycles in the sky or the click click click of a Praetor’s boots. But there is nothing, a silence covers the graveyard in a way you can’t find anywhere else in Haven.
“Password?”
Red and I share a befuddled glance. Password? There is no password. The Hollows is a free for all. Anyone welcome because it means more prey for those with a little bit of power.
�
��There is no password,”
“No password, no entry.”
“Where’s Gren?” Red bangs his fist on the stone door repeatedly. “Why isn’t he watching the door tonight?” Wincing, Red drops his hand to his side and shakes out the pain.
“Gren?” The man inside responds. “You knew Gren?”
“Knew?” Red asks. His eyes widen and brows draw in with concern. “What do you mean, ‘knew’?”
“Gren kicked it two years ago. Praetors got him.”
“Oh,” Red sighs deeply, not as if he’s sorrowed by the loss of Gren – just inconvenienced by it. He raises his hands up in a helpless gesture towards me. Whispering quietly enough that the gate-guard can’t hear, he says “What do we do? I haven’t been back here in years. Looks like things have changed.”
“Let me try.” I lean up against the door, trying to peer through the broken bit to see the man on the other side. I bang my palm hard three times against the stone to get his attention. “Come on, can’t you just let us in. I use to live here, ‘couple years back. There’s plenty of people who can vouch for us.”
“Guess I could let you in. But you gotta go see the boss-man first. Declare yourselves all proper like.”
“Boss?” I mouth to Red. Things have changed more than a little. The door pushes open slowly. The sound of metal against metal causes a shiver of fear in me, as memories of automatons flash in the back of my mind. I finally get a glimpse of the gate-guard as he winds the metal chain that controls the gate. He’s taller than Red, but rather than leanness his body is built like an airbus. Shoulders so thick you could sit one of me on each side and a face that looks more mastiff than man.
“Welcome back to the Hollows,” He slaps me on the shoulder hard enough that I careen forward two steps.
“Thanks,” I mutter, rubbing out the sore spot on my back. Welcome back indeed. I shudder as the old oppressiveness sinks its claws into my mind. My shoulders hunch of their own will. I try to push away my memories of living here before. The nights full of fear. The things I had to do for a bowl of thin porridge and a blanket to sleep under.
