Steel Lily ARC

by Megan Curd

  It was like running into a brick wall.

  My face crashed into his hard chest, and he barely moved. Alice bore so much momentum that she flew forward, skidding along the debris littered cement on her stomach. She cried out, and I skittered backward from the man I’d run headlong into.

  Alice had the mask; she’d had it for forty seconds. Thirteen seconds before I was nothing more than a body bag. The man took a step forward and looked down at me. His hat masked his face, his voice velvet. “Running around on a day when the filtration system is off with one mask? That makes me think you have a death wish.”

  Eight seconds. I didn’t want to die, but I’d be damned if this guy would have the last word before I passed out. “Being willing to watch someone die leads me to think you’re an ass.”

  Three seconds. My lungs screamed. It felt like my chest would explode.

  Just breathe in, Avery, and end it.

  No. No. I wouldn’t do it. Alice would come. The man’s body swam before my eyes. His voice melted in my ears. “Not the first time I’ve been called that, but not for letting someone die.”

  My eyes rolled into the back of my head. I wondered if I’d see my parents when I died. Alice’s scream pierced through my scattered thoughts.

  Suddenly oxygen rushed into my nostrils. My eyes flew open, and I tried to figure out what happened. I looked up.

  The man stood there. His hat obscured his eyes, but I could see his curious smile.

  His mask was on my face.

  I gripped the sides of the mask like a life vest and swallowed gulps of air. My chest heaved and red dots danced before my eyes. I tried to gather words to tell the man I owed him my life.

  He extended his hand, and I took it willingly. “Let’s go. The Polatzi are coming.”

  He turned, and his knee-length overcoat swirled around him. He picked Alice up by her waist and carried her under his arm. She seemed too shocked to argue. He looked over his shoulder back to me, his smile growing. “Care to join us, or would you rather get to know the Polatzi on a personal, first-name basis?”

  I followed him, questions burning through my mind like my lungs had only minutes before.

  Minutes before.

  Why didn’t this guy need a mask? His graceful stride reminded me of pictures I’d seen of deer. The way they loped and jumped and acted like no wall was too high, no speed unattainable. They were beautiful, and this man reminded me of that.

  He sprinted down an alley that was completely obscured by trash and shadows. I never would have seen it. He clambered over the heaps of trash with no trouble, even with Alice in his arms. I struggled, slipped, and lost my footing more than once.

  I saw the top of his hat disappear over the peak of the trash heap, and fell into despair. He’d taken Alice and left me here.

  At least he hadn’t let me die. He’d let the Polatzi take care of that.

  So kind of him.

  All of a sudden a beam of light blinded me from above. “THERE! THE PERPETRATOR IS THERE!”

  Three more steady beams of light pinned me to my spot. I was terrified. Polatzi swarmed from all directions, flooding through every alleyway. There were at least thirty of them. I pressed myself against the sediment and willed myself to be invisible.

  A hand gripped my right shoulder tightly. The hand pulled me backward, and dragged me over the top of the trash heap and hastily down the other side.

  It was the man in the hat.

  The man without a mask.

  “Come on, you lump,” he huffed. He ran down the alleyway and picked up Alice. Again, she let him whisk her away. If we survived this, we were having a talk about that.

  I looked behind me to find Polatzi cascading down the mound. Boots, old masks, newspapers and debris flew in all directions as their feet struggled to gain ground. Empty glass bottles clattered down the heap and broke into a million pieces, and the thundering sound of the hovercraft above roared closer.

  My instincts and muscles worked together, driving me in the opposite direction of the inevitable arrest.

  At the end of the alleyway I found the man putting Alice in a contraption I’d never seen before. Its spindly metal legs gleamed in the darkness, the bolts protruding slightly from the joints. The legs were bent and the body of the machine was situated on the ground, awaiting passengers. It hummed in anticipation, as though it were a living thing. He placed Alice gingerly in the back seat, then waved me forward with urgency. “Let’s go!”

  I scrutinized the contraption before a misguided taser gun missed me by a hair. I sprinted and jumped into the machine beside Alice while the man pulled himself into the driver’s seat. His hands swept over the innumerable cogs, switches, and pulleys. Lights flashed and the contraption came to life, the legs extending and lifting us off the ground.

  We were at least twenty feet in the air. The six legs moved elegantly for being constructed of steel, and the man had his hands in gloves that connected to the chaises of the body. Each time he moved his hands, the legs moved.

  I heard shouts of terror from below and watched as the Polatzi scattered and dove out of the way of this…this thing. All of the hovercraft’s lights were directed at us, and we were nearly eye-to-eye with it. My eyes burned and watered from the light.

  The man laughed as the machine lurched forward. There was a loud bang like a shotgun going off, and a net covered the Polatzi’s hovercraft. There were massive weights at the bottom of the net, and the hovercraft struggled in vain to stay in the air. It crashed to the ground with a sickening crunch.

  We covered more ground than should have been possible. The faster the thing went, the jerkier its motions became. I struggled to keep myself seated, and Alice clung to me for dear life. Neither of us said a word, but simply stared below us as old homes and vendor carts passed by in a blur.

  When we were out of range for the Polatzi hovercrafts, the man slowed his contraption down and I forced my legs to move. I held onto the sides of the steel body for support and fell into the front passenger seat with relief when I reached the front. “What in the hell is this thing?”

  The boy didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes forward and his hands continued to make our getaway. “It’s my buggy. Do you like it? It’s a play on words, you see,” he said, not waiting on my opinion of the machine, “back before the war, before cars and planes, people had things called buggies, but they were silly carriage-like inventions pulled by animals. I fashioned this after the common spider, which is technically an arachnid, but most people call them bugs. Hence, this is my buggy.”

  I had no idea what to say, so I turned and stumbled to the back of the bug gadget to sit by Alice. She leaned in and whispered in my ear. “What did you ask him?”

  “I asked what this thing was,” I said dully, still trying to swallow everything that just happened.

  “And what’d he say?”

  “He said it was a spider bug thing.”

  Alice shook her head. “I’ve seen spiders, and this is not a spider. Or a bug, for that matter.”

  “It’s a buggy, actually,” called the man from the front.

  Alice looked at me, and suspicion leaked into the tone of her voice. “Who is this guy?”

  He never faced us, but yelled over the din of the metal legs working in unison. “My name is Jaxon Pierce, but you can call me Jax. Pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies. Now why don’t you two shush and let me drive this thing.”

  “You know, technically spiders are arachnids,” Alice whispered. “I don’t think this guy knows the difference between a bug and an arachnid.”

  I was pretty sure that the classification of a spider was the least of our worries.

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  My body ached from exhaustion, but I willed myself to stay awake. Alice, however, couldn’t stave off sleep. Her head bounced gently against my shoulder with each step the buggy took, and I put a hand on her head to steady her.

  My muscles burned. Every time I moved, a
surge of pain shot through my legs where lactic acid had built up. It felt good but painful at the same time. My toes tingled as though they were asleep.

  A million thoughts sped through my mind, battling for my attention. These seats were uncomfortable. Who was this Jaxon figure? Were we going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere? Maybe that’s what happened to my parents.

  The familiar twang of loss cracked like a whip across my heart at the thought of my parents. I begged my brain to shut down for a while. Just long enough to make me forget the day. I squeezed my eyes shut and saw red from the pressure.

  I’d give steam every day of my life to go back to before my parents disappeared.

  Please, God, if you’re there, let it all be a dream.

  When I woke up, I noticed the buggy was stationary. I was slumped to the side of the carriage and Alice was curled up on the seat, her head in my lap. My neck ached from being at a strange angle for so long, and pulled myself into a more comfortable position.

  “You slept hard,” said a drawling voice, “though I’ve heard near death experiences can do that to a person. Personally, I avoid those like the plague.”

  I turned toward the voice, and the muscles in my neck protested. I massaged them with one hand as I drank in the figure before me.

  Jaxon was much closer to my age than I imagined. Artfully destroyed jeans revealed cuts and callouses on his knees, and the hem of red plaid boxers he wore underneath peeked through the holes. The sleeves of his cream thermal Henley were rolled up and revealed muscular arms. The shirt was unbuttoned enough for me to see the top of his chiseled chest.

  Where the sun beamed down on him, his caramel skin was almost luminous. He looked tense, and I could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

  I’d never seen someone like him in Dome Three. His jawbone was strong, his cheekbones set high. His nose was regal and straight and when my gaze reached his eyes, my breath caught.

  Stormy blue-grey eyes that reminded me of shale returned my gaze with genuine curiosity, if not a bit of humor. Strips of colored fabric were woven into his dreadlocked hair, giving it a wildly unique look that suited him. The smug look on his face made me realize he was enjoying this. “Are you finished checking me out? If you’re not, that’s okay; I allow every new woman I meet a free five-minute gawking period. After that, it’ll cost you.”

  Blood rushed to my face. I tore my eyes from his magnetic gaze and watched as he took a worn leather strap off his wrist. He pulled back his dreadlocks, deep brown streaked with blonde, into the strap. His devilish grin pulled his eyes tight at the corners. He was trouble incarnate.

  Trouble that I may very well want to get into, given the right circumstances.

  “You’re at five minutes and thirty seconds now,” he said in a purr as he moved toward me. He leaned in, and I felt his breath against my cheek. My heart raced. “I’m going to start taking payment, and I choose how that payment is issued.”

  Before I could respond, Alice stirred groggily beside me. She rubbed her eyes as she sat up. “Where are we?”

  “Good question,” piped Jaxon. “One that your friend here failed to ask, but it could have been because I rendered her speechless with my good looks.”

  Alice moved to get a better look at him, but Jaxon emphatically put his hands in front of his face, as though he were a vampire trying to block the sun. “Don’t look at me!” he cried, then grinned as he winked at me. “I don’t want to make two ladies swoon in such a short period of time. How would I entertain myself tonight?”

  “You’re not that handsome,” I argued mulishly.

  “There’s drool on your chin. Either you’re physically unable to keep your mouth shut, or I caused you to forget how. Since when I found you, you were drool free, I’m going with the assumption that it was me.” He fished in his pocket and offered me a white silk piece of cloth. “Here, a handkerchief for your trouble. You can keep it if you’d like. We have more at the academy.”

  “You do?” squeaked Alice.

  I looked up from the lustrous cloth in time to see Jaxon’s eyes widen. “Good Lord, you two. Riggs said you were different, but he didn’t say you were different.”

  I put the silk against my face. It was soft, and I breathed in the clean scent.

  That’s when it hit me.

  I wasn’t wearing a mask.

  Shock surged through my body like an electric current. “I’m breathing! Without a mask!”

  If Jaxon didn’t think we were crazy before, he did now. “That’s what humans do, you know. Breathe.” He said with a laugh as he placed a hand on his chest and illustrated by taking deep breaths. His chest expanded and contracted in an exaggerated manner and all the while, his smile grew. “In and out. Like this. Without masks. You’ve done it before; it’s nothing new.”

  “But we’re outside!”

  “Yep. Another perfectly acceptable place to breathe, since the alternative would be you suffocating to death. I’d really prefer that not happen. That’s not fun for anyone involved, and it’s extra paperwork for me.”

  Both Alice and I stared at Jaxon with our mouths agape. As handsome as he was, the boy was odd beyond all reasonable doubt.

  And he thought we were different.

  Alice’s head swiveled as she took in our surroundings. She looked up to the skies. Clouds—real clouds—reflected in her eyes and beckoned me to look up as well.

  We were not in the same place we’d been when I fell asleep. This dome ensconced us just as the one I knew, but the glass was clear and polished and went on for ages. The date, time, and temperature moved across the top of the glass in a hologram, keeping the inhabitants informed. Clouds drifted along, revealing the outside world.

  I’d never seen clouds of any kind, let alone fluffy white ones.

  “Are…are those real?” I asked, pointing weakly to the heavens before me.

  “Of course not,” Jaxon said, “It’s a hologram to depict what we hope to have some day.”

  Alice sucked in a breath, scandalized. “But holograms are banned devices! They take too much energy!”

  Jaxon waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t believe everything you hear from your lovely governor. We’re fine running electricity here. You two were living in the stone ages. Force-fed false information. Contrary to your previous way of life, this is 2030, not 1830.”

  His voice made it clear he thought this place superior. He flourished our oxygen masks in front of us, then tossed them over the side of the carriage.

  “Hey!” I protested.

  “Avery, we even have clean air. No masks needed.”

  He’d said my name, and I didn’t recall giving it to him. It was all beginning to crash into me. The night before. The Polatzi. Our home, gone. Running for our lives. This boy who just happened to be there, who happened to know Mr. Riggs. There were too many coincidences.

  My eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

  He looked around as though searching for someone he might have missed in the carriage. After a moment, he pointed to himself. “Are you talking to me? Because I’m sure I made it clear. I’m Jaxon Pierce.”

  “Yes, I know that but who are you? How did you know where we were? How do you know us?”

  Jaxon ignored my question, turned to the front of the carriage, and punched a blue button to the right of the dashboard. Suddenly a metal trap door dropped out of the middle of the buggy, revealing a rope ladder.

  Jaxon turned back to us, expectance all over his face. He waved his arms in the direction of the ladder. “Well?”

  “Well what?” I asked.

  “Aren’t you going to get out?”

  “Get out somewhere when we have no clue where we are? That’s insane.”

  He rolled his head back and looked to the sky. “If Riggs sends me for one more useless person, I’m going to die.”

  Alice snorted. “Are you sure you’re not being melodramatic?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her, his lips curved in a
n audacious smile. “Are you sure you two aren’t being stupid just to test me?”

  “Well, give us answers so we’re not stupid!” Alice shouted.

  I’d never heard Alice shout at someone before. I was impressed.

  Jaxon shook his head and then leapt down the hatch without warning. Both Alice and I leaned over the buggy’s edge to watch him. He held onto either side of the ladder and slid down, opting to not use the footholds like a normal person.

  As if there were any question on him being normal.

  I sighed and tugged Alice out of her seat. “We may as well go,” I said while placing one foot on the first rung of the swaying ladder. “Otherwise we’ll sit up here looking at each other forever.”

  It took less time to get down than I thought it would. My feet hit firm ground, and my knees buckled.

  Jaxon laughed. “You need your sea legs, sailor.”

  “Oh shut up.”

  He stifled a chuckle while Alice struggled down the ladder. Her dress tangled in the rungs and under her shoes. More than once I heard an unladylike expletive, which was most un-Alice-like. It made me smile.

  I caught Jaxon looking at me, and I turned to him. “Are you really going to make me ask you again? Who are you?”

  “As I’ve told you, I’m Jaxon. That’s all you need to know.”

  He made a sweeping bow. A few stray dreads spilled over his shoulders and threatened to touch the grassy ground.

  The grassy ground.

  I marveled at this miracle as Alice reached my side. I glanced her way and giggled. Her hair was a rat’s nest of pins and bobs that weren’t supposed to be there. What was left of her chignon was smashed to the right side of her head. She looked like she’d been put through the ringer.

  Jaxon took off in a long stride toward a massive skyline in the distance. It was gold and black in the sunlight, its rays bouncing off the hundreds, if not thousands, of windowed skyscrapers and plunging other areas into deep darkness.

  I quickened my pace to stay close to Jaxon. When he saw Alice and I had caught up, he began what was undoubtedly a practiced script. “Welcome to Dome Seven. Don’t ask what the numbers mean, because I don’t know and don’t care. My name is, as we’ve been over multiple times, Jaxon Pierce. You can call me Jax. I’m the resident alchemist in the dome. There are —”