Into Light (Shadow and Light Book 2)

by T. D. Shields

  The small size might make it harder for anyone very large to follow us, but it would make it nearly impossible for us to fight if someone did come in behind us. It would be far too easy to find ourselves trapped in this dead end.

  “We can’t stay back here,” I murmured to Sharra. “We could be trapped.”

  I caught Sharra’s hand in mine and drew her along with me as I moved back to the spot where the corridor branched off from the main tunnel. I pressed myself against the inside wall and pulled Sharra with me. If we were lucky, the men would run right past this little alcove without noticing us. If we were less lucky, we could jump out into the bigger tunnel and have room to maneuver.

  I couldn’t see Roomie anymore. He had disappeared into the blackness of the tunnels. I didn’t worry; I knew he would stay close, even if we couldn’t see him.

  The door to the Warren slammed open and the men rushed into the tunnel, not attempting to be quiet.

  “Awright, boys! We got ourselves a chase!” a man said. His friends laughed. With the way the tunnels distorted sounds into echoes, it was hard to be sure, but I thought it sounded like three men.

  “A couple of pretty girls like that wandering right into our hands is some good luck,” a second man commented. “We can auction them off for a nice wad of cash. We won’t have to work for the next month.”

  My stomach churned. I couldn’t believe something like this could happen in my city. Girls being captured and auctioned off to God knows what terrible fate, all for the simple crime of walking down a street. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen in Goodland, not even in The Warren.

  Righteous anger burned away at my fear as I thought again, Things like this aren’t supposed to happen in Goodland. I was putting a stop to it—maybe just for an afternoon this time, but I wouldn’t forget about it. I wasn’t the First Lady anymore, nor was I planning to resume that role, but I would still have some power in this city once Cruz was ousted. I would make sure there was a crackdown on anyone perpetrating these crimes.

  The men were drawing closer, the light from their flashlights bouncing against the walls as they walked through the tunnels. Sharra and I waited, muscles tense and ready to jump into action. As the lights and voices got closer, I kept my breathing quiet and tried not to move at all. My heart was pounding loudly in my ears as the footsteps reached us. For a moment, I thought that we would remain undiscovered. Then a flashlight blazed directly into my eyes.

  Momentarily blinded, I could see nothing beyond the burst of white light as an oily voice crooned, “Well, hello, girls.”

  The first man held his flashlight steady on our faces while a second man stepped up beside him and ran his flashlight over our bodies as we stood pressed against the wall. I hoped he was just looking for weapons and not checking us out, but I knew that he was likely doing both.

  The first man spoke again. “What are a couple of sweet little girls doing out here all alone?” he asked. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous in the Warren?”

  “We’re not alone,” I replied, thinking of Roomie out there somewhere in the dark.

  “And we’re not that sweet,” Sharra added.

  “Oh, I think you are alone,” he said. “We’ve been watching you ever since you walked into our part of town, you know.”

  “Don’t worry,” the second man told us with a slimy chuckle. “We’ll keep you company for a little bit.”

  “That’s right,” the first man agreed. “Can’t have you girls wandering around down here by yourselves. Why, you might get hurt. Pretty little girls need someone to look out for them.”

  His flashlight finally left our eyes and the light bounced around wildly as he tucked it under his arm to free up his hands. A moment later we heard the unmistakable sound of a leather belt sliding through the clasp as it was unfastened.

  I wasn’t afraid to hit first in self-defense. The clinking of his belt buckle helped me locate my target, and I drew back my foot and kicked him about three inches south of that buckle. I had strong legs and heavy boots with a hard, reinforced toe, so that kick carried a lot of force. With a gasping, keening cry, the man dropped to the floor. His flashlight rolled away as he fell, but its light continued to illuminate the scene. I could see him clutching himself and rolling into a fetal position as he retched with pain.

  With one man down for the moment, I vaulted over his crumpled body to get into the clear space of the main corridor. Sharra jumped over his twitching feet and punched out at the second man. He stumbled back and she followed. A whisper of sound as a foot slid across the concrete floor warned me an instant before a hard arm caught me across the ribs and knocked me back against the wall of the tunnel. A third man had been waiting silently in the dark while his buddies taunted us.

  I punched hard, striking upward since most men were so much taller than me. My fist connected with his cheekbone with a satisfying crunch, and he grunted as his head jerked to the side. I threw several hard jabs into his soft belly and I followed up with a brutal strike meant to find his diaphragm. My aim was a little off because of the darkness, and I hit him in the abdomen instead. He folded over my fist, but the blow didn’t disable him the way I’d intended.

  He managed to reach out and fist his hand in my hair, holding me in place as he struck. Before I could twist away, his other hand hit me hard in the temple and set my head swimming. Before he could punch me again, a hair-raising yowl echoed through the passageway and Roomie joined in the fight. Sharra’s opponent screamed as Roomie leapt onto his shoulders and began raking the man with his razor-sharp claws.

  My assailant was distracted by the unexpected attack on his friend, and I took advantage. I hooked my foot behind his leg and yanked it forward while shoving his shoulders backward with all my might. I ripped myself backward, leaving him clutching only a clump of my hair for balance. He flailed his arms through the air in an attempt to break his fall. There was nothing there to catch onto, and he fell backward, striking his head first against the tunnel wall and then again on the hard floor. He remained on the floor, twitching just enough to let me know the fall hadn’t killed him.

  Sharra’s foe was on the floor as well, Roomie still slashing as the man curled into a ball in an attempt to protect himself from the vicious slices. A flashlight had fallen to the floor near my feet. When I reached to pick it up, I found a sharp switchblade, blade extended, lying there as well. I didn’t know which man had pulled out the knife, but I was very glad he hadn’t managed to use it on either of us.

  I shone the light around the tunnels to be sure no other surprises awaited us. Once I was sure that there was no one else hiding in the shadows, I turned the light back to Sharra, who was standing above the second man, arms crossed, watching dispassionately as he writhed around in an attempt to dislodge the angry cat. Finally, she said, “That’s probably enough, Roomie.”

  With a last growl, Roomie jumped to the floor and sat down to smooth his ruffled fur. The man lay there whimpering, not even attempting to get up or fight back.

  Walking back to the first man, who had appeared to be the ringleader of this little group, I took hold of the belt that was already half removed from its loops and pulled it free with a sharp tug. The man came out of his daze enough to struggle a little as I grabbed his hands and swiftly wrapped the belt around his wrists to tie them behind his back. I got the belt fastened before he could put up too much of a fight.

  I used my sharp new knife to cut strips from his shirt that I used to tie his feet. He was a big man, so his shirt was large enough to supply the lengths I needed. I tossed a couple of strips to Sharra, who tied up the second man, while I restrained the third. We worked together to drag all three men into the little alcove where we’d tried to hide. They’d be able to get themselves free before too long, I was sure, but until then, they were at least out of the way of anyone who needed to use the main passage.

  By the time we’d dragged everyone into the side tunnel and retrieved our belongings, all three men
had recovered enough to begin screaming obscenities and promising retribution. Sharra and I ignored them and began to walk away, but Roomie took offense. Before leaving he strutted over to the men, lifted his tail, and proceeded to mark his territory. The screaming abruptly died into gagging and sputtering as they were hit in the face with an unfortunate shower.

  His revenge complete, Roomie joined me and Sharra as we walked away.

  “I told them we weren’t alone,” I remarked to Sharra, knowing the men could still hear me.

  “Yep,” she agreed with a grin, knowing exactly what I was doing. “And I warned them we weren’t sweet.”

  10

  “At least we got some new flashlights out of the deal,” Sharra commented as she swept the light across the tunnel wall at a junction between two corridors. The beam picked out a five-pointed star scratched into the plas-crete wall, and she stopped the little circle of light to highlight the mark.

  “The symbols chipped into the walls are basically signposts pointing the way to various places within the Warren and the city,” she said, jerking a thumb upwards to indicate the streets running above our heads. “The stars are for the neutral territory I told you about, so we follow the arrow next to the star.”

  We followed the stars through the tunnels for about fifteen minutes until we could see a little light spilling into the dark corridor from somewhere up ahead. I could hear voices, laughter, and even some music. The lively sounds were similar to what you’d hear at any marketplace in the retail district.

  We stepped through the archway of the narrow tunnel we’d been following, and I saw that we were on the edge of a large, open area with tunnel entrances perforating the walls at regular intervals. This had apparently been planned as a central hub of some sort. Whatever its original purpose, it now served as a meeting place for the underground community that called the Warren home.

  Crudely built stalls and tables ringed the open area; I could see food, clothes, tools, and trinkets for sale at the various booths. A small band had set up in a clear space against the far wall. A tall brunette with a pretty soprano sang along with their cheerful tune and wound her way through the crowd collecting tips in a small bucket. From the regular flash of coins dropping into her pail, they were doing well for themselves.

  The scent of spiced meat caught my attention, and I followed my nose to a tiny food stall. Knowing that I couldn’t just tap into my bank account via the tiny tablet computer in my wristlet as I’d used to do, I had shoved some cash into my pockets before leaving Denver. No matter how advanced society became, there were always underground communities that needed to bargain in cash. I pulled out a few bills now and placed an order for three sandwiches as my stomach growled in anticipation.

  The vendor picked up a large roll and dug his thumbs into the soft bread to create a pocket in the center, then used a spoon to scoop the ground beef mixture into the hole. I forced myself to wait as he made the other sandwiches and practically snatched them from his hands as soon as they were finished.

  I handed one to Sharra and set one on the floor for Roomie before taking an eager bite of my own sandwich, eyes closed to better savor the explosion of flavors. I opened my eyes with a happy sigh to see Sharra looking at me oddly.

  “What?” I asked defensively, checking my chin for dribbled grease.

  “I suppose I should have learned to let go of my preconceptions by now, but I never would have pictured the First … person you used to be as someone who would even recognize street food, let alone enjoy it. I guess I just pictured fancy banquets and cocktail parties all the time.”

  “There were plenty of those,” I acknowledged. “They were sometimes entertaining, and the food was usually pretty good. But my favorite thing was when my father and I would sneak away from our security teams and take bikes into the city. We’d hit up a street cart for a treat, and these sandwiches were always my favorite.”

  I felt a little sad at the reminder of my father, but it also felt nice to think of him in good times instead of always focusing on the way he’d died. I took my time finishing my sandwich and lingering over the memories of happier days.

  When our stomachs were full we went looking for bathrooms. A row of portable hygiene stations stood against one wall, apparently relocated from somewhere in the city above. We stood in a short line to get a turn in the little booths. The hygiene stations were busy and heavily used, but the irradiation modules were still intact. A quick flash of UV light bathed the room between each use to kill any germs while subsonic tones vibrated away any physical dirt.

  I took my turn in the little cubicle and felt much better afterward. I pulled my clothes back into place and pressed the button next to the toilet to trigger the elimination cycle. I didn’t understand the science behind it all, but somehow the elimination cycle destroyed all the waste products, leaving the bathroom clean and ready to use again as soon as I left the room. A few years ago, I might have considered the little booth fairly primitive in contrast to the luxurious bathroom in my suite, but after my time in Denver with much more archaic technology, this felt positively state-of-the-art.

  Sharra and I found each other again outside the hygiene stations and spent a little time wandering the market to get a feel for the setup and inhabitants. It wasn’t long before we saw that people had started to claim out-of-the-way niches all around the central circle as sleeping areas. Stall owners had packed up their wares and turned out display lights, leaving only the glow of the emergency lights along the walls to see by.

  The day had flown by. I hadn’t realized it had gotten so late until people started settling in for the night, but I glanced at my wristlet and saw that it was definitely late enough to think about sleep. Sharra and I searched for a small spot of our own and after circling about half the room, we found an unclaimed spot against a wall with enough space to stretch out.

  “We should probably take turns on watch,” Sharra said. “This is a neutral area, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

  “Probably better if we aren’t asleep at the same time,” I agreed. We looked at each silently, both of us hoping the other would volunteer to take the first watch. Before either of us cracked, Roomie strutted to the top of our little alcove and settled himself between us. His back was to the wall and his alert posture made it clear that he would keep watch over us.

  “Before I met Roomie, the idea that we could go off to sleep with just a cat on guard would have seemed ridiculous,” I said to Sharra. She laughed around a yawn.

  “Just part of the wonder that is Roomie,” Sharra said, with a gentle pat to Roomie’s head.

  I felt perfectly safe with Roomie as our protector, so with no argument, Sharra and I stretched out on the hard floor with nothing more than our packs as pillows. It was a measure of our exhaustion that the discomfort didn’t stop either of us from immediately dropping into sound sleep. I woke a few times during the night to see Roomie still on guard, and that reassurance let me slip back into sleep each time.

  I finally woke for good as people around us began stirring and starting the day. Vendors set up their stands, and the scent of breakfast began wafting from various food carts around the area.

  I sat up and stretched, feeling energized and ready to face the challenges of the day. Roomie turned and looked me over with an inquiring meow to ask if I was up for the morning.

  “Yep, I’m up buddy. You should get some rest now. Thanks for watching over us.” I added to my thanks with a thorough scratching of his head and back, which he loved. He purred in pleasure as he wiggled his way into his pack and curled up for some well-deserved sleep of his own.

  I sat with my back against the wall and watched the market fill up again as I waited for Sharra to wake. I considered our plans for the day. Now that we were in the Warren, Sharra could reach out to a few of her contacts while I showed Mateo’s picture around. And today was our day to meet with Martín as well. By the end of the day we should have made progress on both our missions—
finding Mateo and joining the resistance against the new government.

  After about thirty minutes the increased bustle pulled Sharra from sleep, and she dragged herself into a sitting position against the wall next to me, staring at the scene before us with glazed eyes. I took pity on her and went to find bacon rolls and juice from one of the food stalls.

  Shoving breakfast into her hand finally shook her from her sleepy stupor, and she woke up enough to nibble at her roll as I dropped a few strips of bacon into the pack for Roomie. I sipped at my tube of orange juice, making it last as long as possible. The pack’s gardens were great and we ate well in Denver, but the climate wasn’t conducive to citrus fruits, so I hadn’t had orange juice in a long time.

  Sharra interrupted my juice-induced reverie with news from home. She held up her wrist-com and told me, “Lucas has his hackers searching for any sign of Mateo, but no luck so far. They’ll keep searching and if we don’t find a sign of him in the Warren, hopefully they’ll pull out a trail in another part of the city.” I chewed my bottom lip, worrying about what we would do if we didn’t find Mateo. I shook off my doubts. We would worry about that if it came to it.

  “Any word on Martín?”

  “Lucas says Martín’s people agreed to send someone for a meet. They have our basic description and will find us today. They’ll use the word “Roomie” to identify themselves.”

  I snickered. “Ooh, code words. We’re getting fancy.”

  I hesitated a moment, then asked, “Did Lucas say anything else?” I knew he couldn’t say much, when he was dealing with security issues and data limits and working through the intermediary of Sharra’s wrist-com, but I’d hoped he’d say a little something about missing me. I was certainly missing him.

  “Oh right, he did say one more thing,” Sharra told me, and lunged across the small space between us to plant a passionate kiss on my surprised lips. I sputtered and laughed and pushed her away.