by Rachel West
“I heard.”
“Yeah.” I shuffle uncomfortably in place, feeling her judgmental glare on me. Gods, she’s my sister -- why is it like this? “I mean, I would have brought you but…” I stop, unable to finish my sentence because I know it’s a lie. I would have tied Annie up here if it would have kept her safe. I don’t want her to have any part of this.
“Right,” she hears the lie in my voice. “You could have died. You would have left me alone again. You didn’t even tell me you were leaving.”
“It just sorta happened. There wasn’t any time. I didn’t even know where you were,” I say defensively then pull my lips into a tight line. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to her, not to my own sister. I turn my back on her and dig through the crooked wooden dresser where we keep all our clothing. I pull out a pair of soft, faded pants best meant for sleeping. I stuff the pants and a thin t-shirt into a bag and turn to leave.
“Where are you going?” Annie cuts me off before I can reach the door.
“I was just…” I shrug helplessly and make a stilted motion towards the door, stopping before I get anywhere. I was just going to get cleaned up and then go to Jaxon’s room.
“It’s fine,” Annie snaps, reading the truth on my face. “Just go. Clearly he’s more important to you than I am.”
“Annie, it has nothing to do with who’s more important. You’re my sister. Nothing could ever, ever break that bond.”
“You abandoned me before,” she thrusts her jaw out with stubbornness. Beneath all the anger there is the hint of tears, the slight thickening to her voice. She actually feels that way. She feels like I abandoned her.
Shame flushes through me as I remember the night the Praetors killed our mother and took Annie away. How I’d cowered in the corner and done nothing to stop them. I’ve never admitted it to anyone, hardly even to myself, but there are times when I think the only reason I dedicated my life to saving my sister was out of guilt. But that’s something I can never admit aloud, something my sister can never, ever know. So I stuff those twisted feelings deeper inside and instead I step forward to comfort my sister.
“Annie,” I whisper and her name is a broken plea, “I spent years searching for you. You were all I thought about.”
“Well clearly you don’t think about me at all anymore,” she says. “You’re always leaving me behind like I’m some stupid child who can’t handle anything.” She crosses her arms defensively around her chest, a gesture I’ve made a thousand times myself when I feel as if I’m about to fall apart. “I know how to handle myself. Maybe I’d be the one protecting you.”
I step in closer and reach out to draw her into an embrace. In an instant she slaps my hand away and steps back. “Don’t patronize me.” She moves so quickly I have no chance to stop her as she sidesteps past me and speeds out the door. The loud clang as the door slams shut echoes through the small room and I’m left there staring stunned at the suddenly empty room.
I pause for a moment, watching the still vibrating door. I drop heavily to the bed, my knees unable to bear my weight any longer. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, not the hysterical sobbing of before. This is a quiet sorrow. Subdued. But just as painful.
What a perfect way to end the day.
CHAPTER 17
The following day Captain Vex announces to Haven that the Praetors have rooted out a criminal hideout on Hamal Street. She tells the world how they faced heavy losses during the battle - Over a hundred Praetors dead but twice as many criminals killed or imprisoned. Vex phrases her words delicately. We’re not a rebellion, not a revolution. We’re criminals. Gangs roving the city and causing trouble. Nothing that could upset the balance of the city.
“How can she lie like that?” I ask. That wasn’t even close to what happened. Those people… The poor, innocent people murdered on Hamal were not rebels. They were not anyone. There was no reason for the Millennials to attack them.
Jaxon, upon hearing it, shakes his head sadly. “Always twisting words,” he says. “It is what they do.”
“Won’t people know she’s lying?”
“She doesn’t need to convince everyone. But who would doubt her words? How much interaction do the people of Westwick Slums have with the rest of Haven? A thousand men could deny her and still the truth would be what people see on the screen. Keep the Millennials happy, that is her only job.”
“After all,” Red cuts in, “us poor idiots down here in Westwick Slums are a bunch of criminals anyway. Who would possibly believe us?”
“That is not what I said,” Jaxon responds stiffly.
For a moment Red’s face twists like he’s going to argue then he sighs and drops his shoulders. “I know.”
“Eventually they will see the truth,” Jaxon says with an elegant shrug. “Even if we have to force it down their throats,” he finishes viciously.
I blink at this new anger in his voice. Something has changed within him. Hardened him. And in his eyes is a rage that wasn’t there yesterday.
“So now what?” I clumsily derail the conversation.
“They will want their revenge.” Jaxon leans back against the wall and crosses his arms. “The Praetors will not stand for the loss. I need to speak with Vertigo. The Hollow’s may not be a safe haven for much longer.”
“I need to go check on the training classes. Slither’s not so good with the new recruits,” Red says and peels off without a word. Secretly I think he needed an excuse to avoid visiting Vertigo. Although Slither, one of the Red’s Coliseum boys who help train new fighters, wasn’t exactly known for his gentle hand.
As we exit the atrium we encounter Ki sitting on the ground, playing some child’s game by himself. Jaxon crouches down next to him. “What are you playing?”
“Jacks,” Ki answers shortly, sparing no attention for Jaxon as he drops his ball and whips his hand across the floor.
Jaxon crouches down next to him and hesitantly picks up one of the small, misshapen pieces. He ponders it considering, turning it over in his hands like it hides all his answers. “Can I have this?”
“I’ll be short a piece,” Ki responds.
“Please?”
Ki sighs, a sound of long suffering that show his general displeasure with all adults. “Fine,” he drags the word out.
Jaxon turns and hold the small piece out for me to examine. I shake my head, confused by his behavior. But I should know by now that Millennials have no sense to them.
“Thank you,” Jaxon ruffles Ki’s hair with a grin.
Jaxon and I pause at the intersection outside of the markets. One direction leads to Vertigo’s quarters while the other leads in the directions of our rooms. I think of having to face Vertigo after the battle we had and shudder as I picture the older man’s cruelty. The sins that he will lay at our feet.
“I should…Uh…” I trail off and awkwardly tuck a strand of hair behind me ears.
“I think it would be best if I spoke with Vertigo on my own,” Jaxon says, “he may be more receptive to change if he doesn’t have an audience watching.”
“Good idea,” I say, sighing with relief. “I need to go speak with Annie. Her and I…. Things didn’t end well last night and I haven’t seen her all day. I need to try and make things right.”
“Alright,” Jaxon says. “Later then?”
“Later,” I promise with a smile.
***
The next morning comes and I stretch in bed, arching my back against Jaxon’s bare chest. He makes a sound of half-annoyance as I nearly push him off the mattress. “Hey!” he mumbles, trying to sound affronted but mostly sounding sleepy.
“My apologies,” I drawl in imitation of his Millennial arrogance.
He leans in for a quick kiss then pulls back with a smile on his face. “Good morning,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I smile back.
“Your sister is going to be upset that you stayed here again,” Jaxon says.
“Stop,” I roll over and face my back
to him, “why would you bring that up so early? Besides, don’t most girls her age want a room to themselves?”
Jaxon curls his body around mine, pulling me in close. “There are benefits to sharing a room,” he whispers into my ear. His breath dances across my flesh and sends chills down my spine.
“We should get up.”
“No,” Jaxon groans, “they can do without us for a day. “
I shuffle my body in closer to his, until the line of his chest matches perfectly with my back. Heat radiates from his fingers as he curls them around my hip. I think of the new recruits we somehow need to find weapons for. Of the people protesting and fighting and dying in the streets. “We can’t,” I say.
Jaxon flops to his back with another groan. He flings his hands out to the side, grabbing one of the pillows before dropping it on his face. “What is this?” his voice is muffled by the soft cotton. “What disease has infected you that leaves you suddenly so practical.” He sneers the last word as an insult, but I hear the smile on his lips as he says it.
“Well,” I tease, “rumor has it you’re pretty useless. Used to be a Prince or some such nonsense. Not used to doing things for yourself. Figure I’ll step up, someone needs to get things done around here.”
“Wretch.” Jaxon throws the pillow against my chest. I catch it with a startled “oof.” Jaxon swings his feet around; a shiver runs through him as his flesh touches the cool stone. Winter nears; I wonder how cold the Hollows will get. I remember nights spent curled around myself, shuddering until morning. Deep underground, it takes time for the cold to set in, but once it does? You’re entombed by it. The chill sets into the floor and the walls like it will never leave again.
“So,” I start. “Vertigo?” I’d been asleep by the time Jaxon returned last night. “Seems like you’re still alive at least. How did it go?”
Jaxon shrugs. “Well enough. The main entrance to the Hollows will be caved in. Vertigo has Ki mapping all the other entrances, hidden ways that we will now be required to use. Life will get a little stricter around here.” He pauses for a moment and he narrows his eyes at the empty wall. “Many will not like it.”
“I think you underestimate how the people will see you now. You took on the Praetors, Jaxon. You took them on and you won.”
“Did we?” Jaxon bends over, pulling on his boots and not meeting my eye.
“Did we what?”
“Win,” Jaxon says. “Forty-five dead on Hamal street. Another twenty-two died at the barracks.”
I swallow around the rock in my throat. “Twenty-two?” I repeat.
“Kalia brought me the final count when I met with Vertigo. The Praetors piled their bodies in front of the barracks. No one can retrieve them. They’ve been arresting anyone who steps close.”
“But,” I rest my hand on Jaxon’s shoulder, “How many Praetors did we take down? A hundred? A rabble like ours, against their better gunned, better trained forces. In anyone else’s eyes that is a win.”
“They died because I asked them to fight.”
“They fought because the Praetors murdered their loved ones. Had you not shown them they could fight back, they would have gone home, hating themselves for their weakness. The bitterness would grow until it consumed them because never before has there been an outlet. You gave them a chance to redeem themselves.”
“Semantics,” Jaxon waves my reassurances away. He jerks his shirt on, the rustling cloth whispers his true anger. He grabs the tablet from the tall-table standing by the door. Antony, of the Foxes, somehow managed to procure him a working device after the one left behind in my apartments was destroyed. Jaxon’s fingers dance across the screen followed by angry tapping against the hard plastic. With a defeated sigh he tosses the tablet back on the table. The device slides across the pitted wood until it clatters against the wall, shaking the entire room of barely stabilized aluminum.
“No response?” I ask quietly.
“Nothing,” Jaxon shakes his head and begins pacing the small room. “I’ve checked all of Darren’s usual hangouts. I’ve pinged him, called him and messaged him a dozen times. And nothing.”
“Maybe he’s busy…” I offer with a wince.
“Don’t Evie. My Father will know he aided us. He’s not busy. They’ll have him locked up for questioning. Because of me”
“I’m sorry.”
“I need to go to Crescent City.”
“What?” I gasp. “No. They’ll arrest you immediately.”
“There are ways,” Jaxon starts. “Ways to get there and back. Darren used to sneak me down to Haven for night after night of carousing on Arlen’s Road. There are ways the Praetors don’t monitor. Secret ways where I could go unnoticed.”
“For Darren?”
“For Darren.”
“I don’t want you to leave me,” I whisper. The moment I speak I wish I could take back the words. Jaxon and I...We’ve never defined what we are. We’ve never defined if we are anything. How could we? When there’s a war of our doing going on just outside the door too our tiny little room. But my confession feels like a question. Like suddenly I am asking for reassurance I never thought I needed.
Jaxon pauses in his pacing then three steps brings him to my side. He weaves his fingers in my hair, forcing me to look up at him. “I will not ever leave you,” he says fiercely. He pushes in closer, until my knees are entangled with his legs. “Evie...We…” He trails off, searching for the right words in a place that has none. “There is not a lot of hope for us. Not a lot of hope for what we are doing. But I swear to you, as long as blood still pumps through my veins, I will not leave you.”
Jaxon pulls me to my feet with a gentle tug on my wrists. His green eyes waver with a hint of nervousness. I relax against him as he pulls me in close and drops a delicate kiss into my hair.
“I won’t ever leave you either, Jaxon Prayer,” I whisper against his chest.
“Is that a promise?” I feel the shape of his lips as they turn into a smirk.
“Always.”
Jaxon draws my lips to his in a long, lingering kiss before pulling his face from mine. “Well. Now that we have that settled,” he grins with a sudden boyishness I’ve never seen in him before.
“Now we plan for you to get to Crescent City,” I say with a subtle sullenness that I can’t keep from my tone.
“Yes,” he replies. “I’ll have to find a way over the walls. The Praetors have all the borders to the Westwick slums locked down. If I can get an h-board….”
“The freebranches,” I say. “There’s always been ways in between the districts. Do you think,” I wave my arm to encompass all of the slums, “these people would allow anyone to stop them from going where they wanted?”
Jaxon chuckles and drops down onto his bed. “Tell me more.”
“I don’t even know where to find them all. There’s dozens, maybe hundreds. Always opening and closing. I bet Antony would, his crew is known for…escapades… in other neighborhoods.”
“What are they used for?” Jaxon asks.
“Smuggling goods, mostly. People sometimes. You may have noticed that the slums is missing a lot of the technology that those in the rest of the city have access to. There’s a market for it. At least for those who can afford the cost.”
“Could they get weapons?”
I tap the synthblade against my leg. “Yeah. Guns too if you have the money.”
“Good,” Jaxon says. “Good. I’ll talk to Antony about that. It’s time we started thinking bigger. A few small attacks against the Praetors, some protests and flyers. It is a start but it will not be enough. There are those on Crescent City I may be able to encourage to our side. They have weapons up there, weapons and technology that we could turn against our enemies.”
“Bigger?” I ask. Isn’t this already big enough? Hundreds have taken to the streets. Kalia’s flyers litter the ground like leaves in autumn. The flow of people into the Hollows grows each day; with the neighborhood grown overstuffed like
a baking turkey about to pop at the seams. What Jaxon has started…What we have started has spread like fire through the slums.
“Bigger,” Jaxon nods. “We need to engage the other districts. A rebellion in the slums? The Praetors will eventually put it down. But if the whole city rises up? The artists and business owners. Not just the poor and the criminal. They can’t fight that. It all comes down to numbers and if we don’t get them all we’ll have are a lot of people dying for no reason.”
“Okay,” I swallow hard. “We can do bigger.”
“The Praetors need to be pushed from the slums,” Jaxon says. “We’ll need to stage an attack against the Presidio. And Westwick manor. As long as there is a Millennial presence here we’ll never take the district.”
“Aren’t you a Millennial presence?” I tease
“It is different. I am--”
“Jaxon,” I cut him off. “I was joking,”
“Right. Of course,” Jaxon runs a hand through his hair, leaving the silky black strands sticking up in every direction.
I grab his hand, cupping it between my own. “We’ll be fine without you. Don’t be nervous.”
“I know,” Jaxon says. “I know you will be fine. Vertigo agrees that measures need to be taken to protect the Hollows. He’s going to close down all but the most hidden entrances to the Hollows. You’ll be safe here while I’m gone.”
“I know,” I roll my eyes. “I have Red.”
A grimace crosses Jaxon’s face that quickly turns into a smile. “That you do,” he says. “I’m counting on you two. I need you to take care of things while I gone. To ensure it doesn’t fizzle out. Keep the Praetors distracted so they don’t notice I am missing.”
“I don’t--"
“You can do it. I know that you can. The people here love you. They trust Red. It is the only option.”
“Okay,” I say. “Okay, yeah. Whatever needs to be done.”
“Listen, Evie…” Jaxon stares blankly at the wall over my head, unable to meet my gaze. “If I do not make it back-- There is a box hidden in the training room, behind the weapons shelf. It has a map to the facility where my father’s scientists extract the jellyfish proteins. Remember-- remember that we can never win unless we destroy that place. You must take care of it if I cannot.”
