Skeletal

by Emma Pullar

  ‘Why didn’t they use the lie detectors on you, instead of sweeping?’ I ask, and wait for Bins to muster the strength to answer.

  His jowls wobble as he shakes his head.

  ‘What a stupid question,’ Bins chuckles. ‘You can’t use emotional detectors on Morbihan, my dear. We are an advanced species and cannot be manipulated in that way.’

  The superior tone in his grainy voice puts my back up. Even though thrown in a cell, festering, demented, and almost dead, this Morb still thinks he’s better than me. They didn’t use detectors on me either, I think to myself. You’re no better than me. I try to hide my contempt. I need him on my side.

  ‘Bins,’ I say softly, flicking my lank ponytail over my shoulder. ‘I know your granddaughter.’

  Bins looks straight at my face. I can’t see the intensity in his eyes because they’re lenses but I know it’s there.

  ‘You know my Kally?’

  ‘Yes,’ I lie. ‘I was selected as a host. She’s a friend of my mistress’s brother.’

  Bins doesn’t respond. I hope I haven’t confused him. I hope he’s listening.

  ‘So that’s how you know about my lab.’

  ‘Yes, I ran away from the complex.’

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ he scoffs. ‘Skels don’t do that.’

  My impatience is growing.

  ‘Tell me where the cure is, does Cara have it?’

  ‘Cara? Don’t be silly.’

  ‘Then tell me how to make it, and I’ll get it to Kally …’

  ‘You can’t make it,’ he splutters. ‘You’re not a scientist, and a rare desert ingredient is needed. Many died to bring it to the city.’

  ‘What is it? I’ll scale the wall, I’ll give it to a scientist who can …’

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ he spits. ‘I said it’s not something you can get. I’ll have some more soup, thank you, Tracy.’

  I rest my head in my hands and try to keep calm. Who the fuck is Tracy? This Morb is impossible. Why’d they put me in here with him? To break me? Let him drive me insane with his bullshit?

  ‘Look, the cure is this rancid city’s last hope. We can’t let Central win!’ I say, frustrated.

  The heavy iron door swings open, light spills in, and a guard throws in a new body. A curly-haired girl I recognise. It’s Mistress Vable’s maid. Is this real or a memory? Deja vu? Have I done this before? I shake my head. No. This is new. The girl lies bruised and broken on the stone floor, the iron door slams shut and we are in semi-darkness again.

  ‘Hey,’ I say, getting to my feet, I step cautiously towards the silent body. ‘You okay?’

  The girl pushes her skeletal frame up into a sitting position and sweeps back her tight black curls, her hollow eyes search the gloom. She spots me.

  ‘You!’ she shouts, and scrambles towards me.

  I step back and she leaps up, punching both fists at me, I grab her bony wrists.

  ‘Stop!’ I shout. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘You did this. It’s your fault I’m in ‘ere!’ she screams, struggling against my grasp.

  ‘Me?’ I growl back. ‘What did I do? You were at the labs too.’

  ‘You kidnapped Bunce!’ she screams in my face.

  ‘I didn’t kidnap him, he left off his own back.’

  ‘The spooks think I helped ‘cha escape. Damn spooks!’ She shouts at the walls. ‘Let me out of ‘ere, I’ve done nothing wrong!’

  I throw the maid to the ground and she curls up in a ball, arms wrapped around her knees. The only people who use the term ‘spook’ instead of guard come from the roughest parts of the city, where Mutil slaughter people on a regular basis. It must have taken all her strength to get the position of maid with Bunce’s sister. She stares dark daggers up at me. It’s clear she knows nothing about what’s happened. Bins doesn’t say a word. He gawps at us both.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, and I am. ‘I’ll tell them you weren’t involved.’

  The maid buries her head in her knees, and even though I cannot see her face, I can sense her silent tears.

  ‘It won’ make no difference,’ her voice quivers. ‘I’ve been shamed, me masters’ll never ‘ave me back now. I’ll be mutilated for sure.’

  Her shoulders heave as she sobs. I glance at Bins; his head hangs down. Guilt throws acid at the walls of my stomach.

  ‘Cara, isn’t it?’ I say, kneeling beside her.

  I drape my arm loosely around her shoulders. Her skin is like ice, her black uniform is thin, not the pristine maid’s uniform she was wearing the day I saw her in the Hyper Market. No bowler hat taming her wild hair.

  ‘Yeah,’ she sniffs, using her thumb to wipe away a tear from beneath her long eyelashes. ‘And you’re Ms Skyla. The run-away host.’

  ‘It’s Skyla, you can drop the Ms … Cara, look at me,’ I lift the trembling curls away from her face. ‘We’re going to get out of here.’

  She looks deep into my eyes, searching for truth. Her full lips twitch and she tries on a smile. It’s not convincing, but it is there. I ruined her life, inadvertently, but still it’s my fault she’s in here. I will take her with me when I go, it is the least I can do. How we’ll escape I do not know but we must. Cara looks over at Bins.

  ‘What’s that old Morb doing in ‘ere?’ she whispers in my ear, her stiff curls tickling my nose as her head whips around to gawk at Bins.

  ‘Er …’

  Before I can think of a good lie, Cara is up on her feet and strolling towards Bins.

  ‘Excuse me for the assertiveness, master, but what you doin’ in ‘ere?’ she says softly.

  Bins smiles at Cara and his binocular eyes blink.

  ‘Dear child,’ he wheezes. ‘I don’t really know.’

  Cara looks closer.

  ‘Master Roven?’

  ‘That’s my name, isn’t it?’

  A broad grin exposes the Morb’s stubby yellowing teeth.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Cara asks me.

  I shrug. Bins whimpers again. ‘Oh, what could I have done to deserve such punishment?’

  He starts to cough and splutter.

  ‘There, there,’ Cara says, patting his pudgy hand empathetically. ‘I’m sure it’s a mistake, someone’ll take you home soon.’

  Why would Cara comfort this man? She’s had a life of poverty, neglect, and hardship; unlike him. Why would she feel this pathetic creature deserves her pity? He’s had a life of riches, comfort, and opportunity. I don’t get it. Why doesn’t she despise him? He’s old and will die soon anyway. She has a lot more to lose; she’s young and if not executed she will be mutilated for the sake of his kind, experimented on so that Morbs like him can have better working parts for their dilapidated bodies, while her body is hacked to bits. If there were no Morbihan, there would be no need to mutilate Skels to test new artificial organs on and prolong Morb’s lives. Why doesn’t Cara hate him? I do.

  ‘Thank you, my dear,’ he whispers to Cara sweetly. ‘I need to speak to the other you now, the lighter one.’

  ‘Yes, master.’

  Cara bows her head to him and raises her eyebrows at me, quizzically. She’s never encountered a Morb who’s lost his mind, the mind is a Morb’s biggest asset.

  Bins’ face is shiny with sweat, all the talking is taking it out of him. Cara and I switch places and the former maid sits quietly on top of a stained mattress pushed up against the dingy, grey wall opposite us, she twirls her black curls around her spindly fingers. She doesn’t look up, she doesn’t try to eavesdrop on our conversation. She is compliant like all Skels should be. I sit back down on the bed beside Bins and lend him my ear.

  ‘You are friends with my granddaughter, yes?’

  I’m not, but I nod.

  ‘Will you take Kally the serum?’

  I nod again.

  ‘Yes.’

  He stares at me for the longest time, until I feel uncomfortable enough to want to look away, but I don’t. I hold his goggle-eyed gaze. He finally s
peaks.

  ‘The maid,’ he whispers, nodding his head towards Cara. ‘She doesn’t know anything, she helped with many experiments but not 574.’ His breathing becomes deathly shallow. ‘I used the drone to get the cure out of the building, when the guards came in. Tyris had the drone ready, he programmed it to wait up on a high shelf and only leave once the lab was void of people. I was tipped off, we knew they were coming, of course, what I did not know is that they would bring me in here.’

  ‘Where is the drone?’ I ask, elated.

  Bins gasps, his voice rattles.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  I rephrase the question.

  ‘Where did the drone take the serum?’ I ask.

  ‘The serum is in the office.’ Bins hisses. ‘I need to walk the sausage. If I don’t walk it regularly, it’ll break down.’

  He’s losing it again. I glance up. I can’t see any cameras or audio devices in this cell, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Bins gasps for air, his movements shaky.

  ‘Which office?’ I whisper.

  ‘Third from the lift,’ he says, ‘twentieth floor.’

  ‘What twentieth floor? Where?’ I ask, my voice becoming testy.

  He drops his head. I sense the last twenty minutes has taken a toll on him, like twelve hours of hard labour does to me. He rattles out another breath and the words I least want to hear drift into my ears.

  ‘The Spiral.’

  I drop down on my prison bed. Impossible, that’s impossible. How did he manage to hide it there? And in whose office did he hide it? He must have had help. They’d notice a drone flying around. I swallow my frustration, it sticks in my throat and I hang my head, staring down at my grubby hands, dirt collected in the creases of my palms. Bins is silent and still. Dead? No, rhythmic breathing sets in – asleep. Just like that, his body shut down, his circuitry has gone into hibernation. Why would he hide the cure in Central headquarters? How the hell am I going to get inside, let alone out again? I don’t care for Morbs, but if Bins is telling the truth and he’s been trying to hide this information from Central, we’re on the same side and for his sake, I hope he doesn’t wake up.

  16

  Revolting Secrets

  There are no windows inside our cell. I can’t tell if it’s day or night and I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. Twenty-four hours, for sure. A few days, maybe. I don’t even know what day it is or whether Bunce is still alive. Cara has been asleep for a few hours, she makes little more than shallow breathing sounds. Bins more than makes up for Cara’s quiet; his snores bounce off the walls in shattering echoes, aggravating my already tense shoulders. Even if he wasn’t making such a racket, I couldn’t lay my mind to rest, it’s noisier inside my head than it is inside this cell, each thought fighting another for the spotlight. I think of how I might get past security inside The Spiral. How many guards are in there? Maybe it’s full of secure doors. Touch my hand to a palm-pad and a pack of Ruinous pounce on me. No, that’s ridiculous, they wouldn’t keep dangerous animals inside The Spiral. Actually, they do. Central are the most dangerous animals of them all.

  My non-Spiral thoughts revolve around my ‘pet Morb’ as Kian put it. I wonder what abrasive tests he’s been subjected to. I need him back. I need to find a way to get out of here first but then I need to find Bunce. I then need to find the serum and … This is impossible! They’ve probably killed him and strung his head on the line, and if he’s dead, then what? Give the serum to Bins’ granddaughter, Kally, like he asked me? That’s not such a bad idea, is it? Providing I can get to her. Providing I can get to the serum. The heavy cell door creaks and light pours across the floor, growing towards my stolen boots. I touch the rim; the knife is gone. I know it is, yet I can’t help reacting and reaching for it. I touch my waist. My snood is gone too, I hadn’t noticed. A tall shadow fills the light, darkening the room again.

  ‘Food,’ the guard grunts. A metal tray is sent spinning across the floor towards me. I stop it with the tip of my boot.

  I leave the brown salad and snatch up the stale bread, tearing great chunks from it with my teeth. It’s like chewing cardboard but it’s food and my stomach is grateful for it. Another tray is sent skidding towards Cara, who squints as she opens her eyes. Bins doesn’t wake, not even with the sound of his tray clattering into the edge of his hover-chair. The guard bearing food moves on and someone behind him enters the room. The tall, broad figure, cast in shadow, walks over to Bins. He bends to speak to the old Morb.

  ‘I’m going to empty your cylinder, okay, Bins?’

  I recognise the voice.

  ‘Kian!’ I cry, almost rousing Bins from his slumber.

  ‘Skyla!’ he whispers, opening a compartment inside Bins’ hover-chair. ‘There are surveillance systems everywhere. Act like you don’t know me.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I say loudly. ‘Thought you were someone else.’

  Kian frowns.

  ‘Yep,’ he whispers, ‘I’m sure that’ll fool them.’

  He takes two thick cylinders from the inside of Bins’ chair, replaces them with the ones he brought in and slams the compartment door shut. Bins jumps and his jowls wobble.

  ‘What is it now?’ he murmurs. ‘I told you. I don’t know what you’re talking about, oh … er … hello, Crow.’

  ‘Good morning, old-timer,’ Kian says, warmly. ‘How you feeling today?’

  ‘Like death,’ croaks Bins.

  ‘So, better than yesterday, eh?’ Kian winks.

  Bins chuckles, which brings on a coughing fit. Kian scoops up the tray of food and places it in the old Morb’s hands, then lowers his face close to mine, his nose almost touching my cheek. I inhale his smooth neck, he smells like soap. His breath is hot near my ear and my skin tingles as his lips move closer. I’m suddenly horrified. I must smell like dirt and blood and grime and …

  ‘Skyla, are you listening to me?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I said …’ he speaks so softly I can barely hear his words. ‘… Try and get some rest. I can get you out of here but you’ll need your strength. I’ll be back for you in a few hours.’

  He turns to leave. I grab his sleeve and pull him down to my level.

  ‘Where’s Bunce?’ I whisper.

  ‘He’s safe.’

  The relief that plays out on my face seems to anger Kian. He snatches his arm from my grasp and heads for the door.

  ‘Wait!’

  ‘What is it?’ he says, through gritted teeth.

  ‘We need to take her, too.’

  I nod towards Cara, who has been quietly and quickly tucking into her prison food. She gulps the water from a small lidded cup on the tray. Kian looks down at her and back at me.

  ‘No,’ he says bluntly, and turns his back.

  ‘Then I don’t leave.’

  ‘Fine,’ he says, savagely. ‘Stay here and die.’

  The door slams shut behind him, taking the bright light away with it. I flop down on the lumpy mattress, appetite gone. I close my eyes and concentrate on shutting off the loudness inside my head. Slowly, it quietens.

  I’m woken by a hand over my mouth. My body reacts before my mind and instinctively I jerk upright and claw at the stranger’s arm.

  ‘Shhh, it’s me.’

  Kian’s deep tones are just audible over Bins’ loud snoring. The cell is dank and dark, and the light beyond the open iron door is dim. A bulb flickers in the corridor, flickering words into my mind. Flicker: You’re going to die. Flicker: Die screaming for mercy. Flicker: Everyone you care about will die because of you. I’m already dead, I tell myself. What I do from this point makes no difference. It’s only a matter of time before Central send me to the Dark Angel. Yet it feels wrong to endanger Kian’s life. He was against me leaving the complex. He told me to stop and I chose not to listen. I’m such an asshole. Why didn’t I listen? Kian peels his hand from my mouth.

  ‘I can’t do this, Kian,’ I say as soon as my lips are able to move. ‘I’m putting too many li
ves at risk.’

  ‘Don’t use my name!’ He whispers through gritted teeth. ‘The camera’s in here aren’t great and some don’t work but I don’t know which ones. Playback and you can’t tell one guard from the next but they might be able to work it out from the audio.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I whisper, ‘But I can’t let you do this.’

  ‘You want to save Bunce, don’t you?’

  ‘Not if it means endangering you!’

  Even with the door open, the darkness swallows everything. I can’t see Kian’s facial expression but I sense his relief. Calmness washes over me with the touch of Kian’s soft lips to my clammy forehead.

  ‘That’s good to know,’ he says, warmth back in his voice. ‘Wake the girl and let’s go.’

  I don’t need to wake Cara, she’d been silently listening. Her flat shoes shuffle on the concrete floor and seconds later her silhouette is cut out in the doorway. She knows all too well what will happen to her if she stays. I glance over to where the sound of snoring is coming from. I’ll never see Bins again and he’ll never know if I succeeded. He’ll never see the changes his cure could make to his granddaughter’s life, to Gale City. I decide he doesn’t need to see what happens next, he can rest easy – take the hand of the Dark Angel and be flown to peace, safe in the knowledge that his secret is out, providing that I escape Rock Vault in one piece.

  ‘Girl! Don’t step out yet. We have strict patrol perimeters but some guards still break the rules.’

  ‘I ‘ave a name you know.’

  ‘Most people do.’ Kian says, pushing past Cara and out into the passage.

  I’ve never seen the inside of the prison, only guards and prisoners have, and I had no desire to be either, yet here I am. Kian is behind us, he prods us every so often, to make it look as if he’s escorting prisoners, or because he enjoys having the upper hand, controlling me. Cara and I walk shoulder to shoulder down the long stretch of grey, our steps echo in sync and with every closed door we pass, I wonder who is in there and what they did. How many are Runners, gang members, addicts, or guard killers, sitting in darkness, awaiting their punishment. The cobweb-covered cylinders of light above buzz and flicker. Kian whispers ‘turn right’ and we turn the corner. More greyness. Central seems to like everything to be grey. Except the Morb complex, which was colourful and clean. It smells like rat shit in here, I scan the narrow passage and see it’s because there are rat droppings all along the skirting board. Gross! Ten steps down a new passage that looks like the last one, a dreadful scream hits me with the speed of a train. I stop. My heart pounds and I press my back to the wall. Cara copies me.