Into Light (Shadow and Light Book 2)

by T. D. Shields

  “It takes some getting used to,” she acknowledged. “This train is next in line for departure for this tunnel, so be ready to—”

  Her words were cut off by the warning chime that told us we were about to move. I didn’t have time to brace myself before the train lurched forward with a mighty blast of air to launch it through the vac-tube.

  I tumbled forward and bowled Sharra over as I fell. For a moment, we were both pinned to the back wall of the car by the g-forces of the sudden acceleration. I was glad I hadn’t fallen backward and landed on Roomie.

  Sharra and I slid gracelessly to the floor as the speed leveled out. Lying there in an awkward tangle of limbs, I couldn’t help but snicker at my own clumsiness. Sharra joined in, and we giggled our way through the short trip through the tubes to the Goodland station. We had to scramble to brace ourselves at the other end of the car when we heard the chime warning us that the train was about to stop.

  The train jerked to a stop, and we dragged ourselves back to our feet & slipped on the ear protectors. Sharra tapped her security tag against the access panel, and the door opened into the Goodland depot. The pounding noise was muffled by the ear protectors, making our walk across the floor much more pleasant. In our orange jumpsuits we were able to blend in easily, just another couple of workers moving through the station.

  We reached the locker area and closed the door behind us. We stripped out of our work coveralls along with the other workers in the room and tucked our gear into the locker Sharra had appropriated. Though we both wore our standard black leather scouting gear beneath the coveralls, no one looked twice at it. If they thought about our appearance at all, they must have chalked it up to personal style.

  I was a little uncomfortable with so many people around. I looked a lot different from the Poppy Walker anyone might remember, but it was still possible that someone could recognize me if they looked close enough. I fiddled with the sunscarf I’d looped around my neck, pulling it up and arranging it to drape over my head and face. The solar-blocking fabric would protect me from UV and obscure my face.

  Sharra and the other workers donned their sun protection as well. It was shortly after noon and the sun would be hot and punishing at this hour. I was glad for the additional layer of disguise, but the material covering my face already felt a bit stifling. I’d gotten used to doing without sun gear most of the time in Denver. The tall trees and overgrowth everywhere in the city kept most streets shaded enough that extra sun protection wasn’t needed. Here in Goodland the bright sun was magnified by the shining glass coating most buildings, so no one went without sun defense.

  We walked out of the locker room as part of a group, all of us somewhat anonymous in our face-shielding hats or scarves, just a random collection of vac-train workers going off shift. With this as camouflage, Sharra and I didn’t have to go through any elaborate measures to leave the station undetected. We simply walked out the front gates with everyone else.

  8

  I paused a few steps outside the gates and took a deep breath. One of the best features of Goodland was the way it always smelled pleasantly of flowers from the many planters and gardens throughout the city. Thanks to the localized climate controls built into the big urns, tumbling blooms provided bright pops of color everywhere you turned, no matter what the season.

  The bright sun only added to the cheerful effect of the flowers, its powerful rays intensifying the vibrant colors. The sunbeams bounced off the buildings of downtown to fracture into dazzling rays that came at us from every angle. It was a stark contrast to the streets of Denver, which were so overgrown by trees and wild vegetation that almost every street was left in deep shadow no matter the time of day.

  I loved Goodland and felt a warm sense of homecoming as I soaked in the familiar sights and sounds of the city. The buzzing of mag-lev vehicles moving constantly through Goodland’s streets created a pulsing background to the noise of people talking and laughing all around us.

  As happy as I was to see Goodland again, I was a little surprised to realize how much I already missed the peaceful quiet of my new home. Denver was nearly silent most of the time. I could spend hours on patrol hearing only small sounds like wind through the trees, an animal call, or my own footsteps.

  Sharra jostled my elbow gently to break my reverie. “We can’t just keep standing here,” she murmured. “It will draw attention.”

  “Sorry,” I told her ruefully. “I guess I got a little wrapped up in memories for a minute.”

  She smiled in understanding and linked arms with me to walk through the gates into the downtown area. “The nearest slidewalk starts just over here. We can take it over to the old part of the city to save your back a little. That heavy pack has got to be a killer.”

  “It’s not great,” I agreed, “but I’ve done it often enough that I can manage for a while. The slidewalks are a good idea though.”

  “I love the slidewalks,” Sharra said with a wide grin. “I’ll take any excuse to use them.”

  Maybe another city dweller would have rolled her eyes at Sharra’s excitement over something as commonplace as the transportation tubes that wound all around the city, but I had to admit that I was looking forward to riding the slidewalks myself. As First Lady, I’d rarely had the chance to walk through the city. My security escorts had really put a damper on things, usually insisting that I take an armored limousine directly to my destination instead of letting me experience everyday things like the slidewalks and lifts that other city residents took for granted.

  An invisible boundary marked the end of the relatively calm grounds of the transport district. We turned the corner and were immediately surrounded by the organized chaos of the retail district. Bright signs flashed in every direction, enticing shoppers to step inside and find something they couldn’t live without. Street carts offered goods and food, and hawkers zipped through the crowds on personal lev-boards, their hands loaded with small items for sale.

  But the crowds were more subdued than I’d ever seen. The usually cheerful bustle had a hushed and anxious undertone, most likely related to the presence of visibly armed mechs patrolling the streets. Shoppers gave the mechs a wide berth and hurried away as quickly as possible. Based on the reports we’d been monitoring from Denver, I knew that it didn’t take much to get on the wrong side of the law now. The people on the street obviously realized that, too, and tried to avoid drawing the attention of the mech soldiers.

  Sharra and I carefully skirted around the mechs and hurried to the end of the block where a lift tube shimmered in the bright sunlight. I reached the transparent cylinder a few steps ahead of Sharra, so I entered first.

  I centered myself on the circular platform, my feet spread for balance as a surge of pressurized air lifted the thin disk into the air. There was a short pause as the disc reached the first junction at fifty feet. I waited a moment, and the platform resumed its smooth upward progress to the second junction twenty feet above. Here I shifted my weight to the left, causing the platform to move smoothly into the tube leading to the old city. The disk slid quickly through the transparent tube, making me feel almost like I was flying as the slidewalk swooped from building to building high above the city streets.

  Exhilarated, I leaned forward to coax a little more speed from the slidewalk disk. A quick glance behind me showed Sharra was right on my heels, leaning forward to match my increase in speed. I looked forward and watched the scenery around us shift from the colorful markets of the retail district to the sleek, towering skyscrapers of the financial district, and then to the sprawling housing complexes and parks that made up one of the city’s large residential districts.

  We reached the far side of the residential area, and the slidewalk platform slowed as the lift tube at the end of the line came into sight. The disk glided into the lift tube and then sank slowly to ground level.

  A panel at the base of the tube slid open, and I stepped out. Roomie hung heavily on my back and I tried shifting the straps a
little to ease the ache in my shoulders. The cat was so still that I suspected he had slept through the exciting trip through the slidewalk tubes.

  Sharra hopped out of the tube behind me. Through the thin material of her sunscarf, I could see that she was grinning as broadly as I was. “Cha, that’s fun!”

  “Marvi,” I agreed happily. “Definitely better than a sedate limo ride with my security detail. I was always jealous of everyone on the slidewalks.”

  “While they were probably looking down at the fancy limo and wishing for a ride.”

  I laughed in agreement and set out down the street. We couldn’t stand there marveling at an everyday piece of technology any longer without beginning to attract attention. Sharra strode beside me, her longer legs making me work a little to keep up as we headed away from the residential district into the more dilapidated streets of the old city.

  This part of town was not as crowded as the shopping district, and the people here were even more on edge. They hurried along the streets with their heads down, avoiding eye contact with one another and keeping carefully to themselves. I adopted the same posture. The sunscarf provided good camouflage, as did my changes in hairstyle and makeup, but my face had been very well-known for a long time. It had been more than a year, so most people weren’t thinking of me anymore, I assumed. Still, I didn’t want to take the chance that a moment of eye contact would strip away my thin layers of disguise.

  Though the streets were far from deserted, it was eerily quiet. I heard the slight whine of a lev-board as a hawker left the slidewalk tube and rocketed toward the nearby apartment buildings. The quiet sound seemed abnormally loud.

  Even as we watched, the sound caught the attention of a patrolling mech, which reached out abruptly to grab the hawker sliding past. The lev-board clattered to the ground as the boy sprawled on the sidewalk, his head bumping against the mech’s rolling treads. Within seconds two more mechs arrived and reached down to clamp hand pincers around the unfortunate young man’s upper arms. They dragged him roughly to his feet and forced him into a stumbling run between them as they escorted him away to answer for whatever offense they felt he had committed. His cries for assistance rang out in the silence, until they were finally muffled by distance.

  Like those around us, Sharra and I were forced to stay quiet and keep our heads down, hurrying away before a similar fate could befall us. As much as I wished we could do something to help the boy, drawing the attention of the mechs would only jeopardize our own mission here. My heart was heavy as I trudged between the immense apartment buildings, moving further and further from the heart of the city.

  The quality of the walkway gradually deteriorated as we moved into the old part of Goodland. Smooth plas-crete gave way to cracked and pitted concrete sidewalks running alongside aged brick streets as the tall, gleaming buildings of the new city were replaced with aging facades in a variety of faded colors and patterns.

  I had rarely visited the old city before my short sojourn there during my escape, and I surveyed my surroundings with interest. We walked through several blocks of wood and brick storefronts, most with big, dusty front windows showing empty shops. They all looked very similar to the little pharmacy where I had hidden until the mechs found me after Cruz’s coup. The memory made the back of my neck prickle, and I looked all around us with studied casualness, suddenly worried that the streets were not as deserted as they seemed. I didn’t see anyone, but that itchy feeling of being watched would not go away.

  Sharra shifted her shoulders. “I feel like there’s someone staring at me,” she muttered quietly.

  “Yeah, me too. I haven’t been able to spot anyone, though.” My eyes continued to search the neighborhood for movement even as I maintained my relaxed pace and posture. If someone was watching us, I didn’t want them to know we were on guard. I knew Sharra well enough to be sure that she was doing the same thing. We might look like easy targets, but anyone who tried to take advantage of a couple of girls was in for a nasty surprise. A low growl from my backpack showed that Roomie could feel our tension and was ready to do his part if it came to a fight.

  “We’re headed for the Elliot building,” Sharra said quietly, tilting her head toward a building at the end of the block that stood out from the brick shops along most of the street. Tall panels of aqua-tinted metal framed in tarnished aluminum covered the second story, and dull silver lettering across the top spelled out the name of the building, or most of it, anyway. Only a discolored outline remained to show where the metallic “o” had originally attached to the colorful veneer.

  When we reached the shade of the Elliot’s squat rectangular awning, it provided a welcome respite from the fierce glare of the afternoon sun. We paused in the shadows as if we were just taking a break from the heat. I let the heavy pack slide off my shoulders to sit on the cracked sidewalk. I didn’t have to fake my sigh of relief as I rolled my shoulders and stretched the tight muscles in my back. The top flap had never been fastened, so Roomie was able to squirm out of the pack and slide into the shadows near the doors.

  After a moment of stretching, I picked up the now empty pack and shrugged into it again. Sharra and I cheerfully chatted about nonsense as we pushed back our sunscarves to study the area for signs of pursuit. I saw nothing, but I didn’t relax.

  I was sure that someone was following us. Was it only that someone thought they had recognized me and wanted a closer look? Or was there something more sinister in the works? My instincts were screaming that we were in danger.

  “We can either stay here and wait for them, or make a break for it and hope they don’t follow us,” Sharra murmured. “How do you want to play it?”

  “Where do we head from here if we run?”

  “Through the front doors of the Elliot, down the stairs, and into a tunnel that opens into the basement. It connects to the Warren.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip as I considered our options. Was it better to stay in the open where we could see someone coming or to head underground and hope to lose any pursuit in the maze of tunnels below the streets?

  “Let’s head for the Warren,” I decided. “If we can get in and make it to the neutral area, then anybody following us should have to back off, right?”

  “In theory,” Sharra agreed with a little shrug. “I like it better than standing here making targets of ourselves, anyway.” She looked around once more, still unable to spot our pursuers. “Since they’re hiding from us, we should be able to catch them by surprise if we suddenly make like a rabbit.” She glanced at the doors and addressed Roomie directly. “Don’t take off without us, cat. We won’t know how to find you if we get separated.”

  Roomie chuffed, skeptical of our ability to lose him even if we tried.

  Sharra reached back, keeping her movements slow and mostly hidden from view from anyone watching from the street. She gave the door handle a tiny tug to be sure it was unlocked. When it opened easily, she gave me a small nod. I braced myself to run.

  A moment later Sharra exploded into action, yanking the door fully open even as she spun around and bolted through the entrance. I raced after her, feeling Roomie’s sleek side brushing my leg with each step. He was taking Sharra’s suggestion and staying very close. From outside I could hear shouts as the watchers realized that we were running away.

  9

  We sprinted across the empty first floor and burst through the door to the stairs. Faint emergency lighting made it possible to see as we took the stairs at top speed. We hit the bottom of the stairs, and Sharra led the way to a narrow door on the far wall.

  It swung open at her touch, and we started down another set of stairs. The door closed behind us, shutting out the light and forcing us to move more slowly. The stairs butted up against a concrete wall on the left, but there was no railing on the other side, making it all too easy to step off the edge into darkness. I stayed as close to the wall as possible as I peered into the black, trying to see Sharra ahead of me.

  I knew Sha
rra had a flashlight in her pack, but she didn’t pull it out. Turning it on would only create a beacon to lead our pursuers to us. Of course, without the flashlight, we were left to stumble a bit in the thick gloom. I heard a small grunt and then Sharra’s whisper floated back to me, “Found the bottom of the stairs. Watch yourself.”

  There was a quiet scrape of metal on concrete as Sharra pulled open yet another door at the bottom of these stairs. In the doorway, the darkness lightened from pitch black to deep gray. I stepped through, and before I could pull the door closed behind us I heard the door at the top of the stairs bang open. Loud footsteps pounded down the stairs toward us, and I could hear at least two men talking.

  “No more time to run,” I called softly to Sharra as I leapt away from the door. “They’re right behind us.”

  She swore beneath her breath. “All right,” she muttered. “There’s a corridor ahead on the right. I think the best we can do is turn down there and hope they run past in the main tunnel.”

  I could tell from her voice that she didn’t think we would get that lucky. I agreed. To be able to follow us so fast and closely, our pursuers probably knew this route at least as well as Sharra did. We were unlikely to lose them just by turning down a hallway. But it appeared to be our only option.

  My eyes were adjusting to the lack of light, and I could see Sharra as a darker shadow against the grayness. I followed her as she hurried down the main tunnel for a few more yards before abruptly disappearing from view. I reached out to feel my way along the wall until I found the corner. I turned down the offshoot and immediately knew that staying here was a bad idea. The rounded tunnel was so small that I could stretch my arms out and touch the walls on either side of me, and even at my diminutive height, I could reach up and touch the top of the tunnel as well.