by Jen Crane
“Jee-zuhs.” Cooper whistled low at the breadth of devastation. Entire houses had fallen into the canyon, but one or two balanced over the side, holding on for their lives. Across the crevice was the void where the other half of Nori’s home had once stood. His stomach hollowed and seized at what that meant for Nori’s family.
“Hello?” He cupped his hands and yelled toward the chasm. “Hello. Anyone here?” Cooper flipped over a piece of metal siding with the toe of his boot, his chest tight as he hoped for an answer. “Hello?”
There were no recent tracks, no signs of life. With advanced warning of the sunscorch, there had been time to prepare. Many people had fled to safe houses and shelters. Those who could afford them migrated to underground bunkers. But Cooper knew Nori’s parents had retrofitted their basement as a makeshift shelter and had planned to stay. If they’d been on the other side of that house when it went… Cooper shook his head and, for a moment, allowed himself to think perhaps it was best if Nori never knew the truth. Maybe he wouldn’t go back to Trogtown. Sure, she would always wonder, but wasn’t that better than the truth?
No. He kicked at the debris again. It wasn’t. She deserved to know. It wasn’t fair to make her wonder. She needed closure and a chance to heal. Besides, he’d given his word to someone who’d risked her own life to save him. He didn’t have many possessions, but his honor still held value.
After a deep breath and a final look around, Cooper abandoned the search for Norman and Ana Chisholm, and headed back to Trogtown with bad news.
27
Bad News Bearer
“What is that?” Kade squinted at Nori’s back as he rounded the table in the small dining hall.
“What? What is it?” She whirled, tugging at the tank top she’d fashioned from Hank’s stacks of oversized t-shirts.
Kade pressed a single finger to the top of her shoulder. “It is,” he whispered. “It’s a muscle.”
Nori laughed, despite herself. “Oh, shut up,” she said. “Not everybody can crush nuts with their biceps. Some of us have to work at it.”
“Nut crusher’s my new stage name.” Kade’s grin was blinding. “Seriously though. I can see results.”
She could, too. Under the baggy sweats, her body was changing. In the short time she’d been training, her shoulders were leaner and more defined, as were her thighs and calves. She had no arm muscles to speak of, but she could at least do a set of bicep curls without withering to the weight room floor.
It was dinner time at the Pit, and she and Kade had taken their customary place in the dining hall. As usual, Diesel sat with the other fighters but kept his eyes on them, a snarl stuck on his thin lips.
“So, what does the new heavyweight champion do now?” Nori asked before swallowing a spoonful of lukewarm soup. The cook had added thyme to the kale, sweet potato, and lentil mix known underground as olio, but he hadn’t fooled anyone. “It’s been nearly two weeks since the big fight. Your eye’s almost healed. Will Hank schedule another fight soon?”
She meant the questions to spark light conversation. A fighter’s timeline wasn’t something she was familiar with. None of it was. But at her question, Kade’s mood darkened, muscles flexing as he clenched his strong jaws.
“I’ll fight again, though not soon enough for Hank and the others, I’m sure.”
Nori swallowed, nodding, and changed the subject. “I heard Faust found the guy who beat him in the ring and demanded a rematch, which the guy granted on the spot. Faust went down in two minutes.”
Kade’s ears almost twitched with interest.
“Hank’s furious, but only because he didn’t make any money on the deal. He—”
Nori’s words trailed off at the sight of someone walking toward their table. The bottom fell out of her stomach as she searched his face for a clue, but found it blank.
“Nori.” Cooper nodded, his gaze soft.
“Well?” She didn’t bother to introduce Kade or even say hello.
“Can we go to your room?” he asked. “Somewhere private?”
“Just tell me.” Her voice was paper-thin.
“Take him to your room, Nori.” Kade’s words were gentle. “You don’t want your business exposed in front of… You don’t want to do this here.” When she made no move to leave, Kade pulled her to his side and led her away from the dining hall and toward her room. Cooper was close behind.
“I’ll be just down the hall.” Kade eyed Cooper, but didn’t say another word as he softly shut the door behind him.
Nori sat on the edge of the hard bed, her eyes focused on the floor. She couldn’t look at Cooper, couldn’t stand to know for sure what she thought she saw there.
The light clip of Cooper’s boots as he paced the length of her room stopped. He stood in front of her and squatted to her eye level.
“Nori.” His voice was tender, pleading. “Nori?”
She closed her eyes and raised her head. When she opened them again, she looked at Cooper, and the lines of his face seemed exaggerated, his expression so tired. “You didn’t find them, did you?”
He shook his head. “I found your house, but not your parents. There…” He swallowed. “There was a lot of damage to the house.”
Nori raised her clenched hands to her mouth, fighting the scream that wanted out. “The basement? Did you look in the basement?”
“A fissure ran right through the house, Nori, and the basement was sliced in two. I’m so sorry.” Cooper reached to embrace her, but she pushed against his chest.
“But they weren’t in there?”
“No.”
Nori heaved a sigh of relief, her hands dropping back to her lap, though they remained in tight fists. “Could you tell if they made it out? Were they injured?”
“I-I have no way to know. Half—” Cooper rubbed his eyes and looked away. “Half the basement fell into a canyon, Nori. There was no sign of them.”
Everything seemed so far away, as if it were happening to someone else. She covered her eyes as her body folded in on itself. Rocking back and forth, she sat on the bed with her face in her hands. She didn’t cry. She couldn’t. It wasn’t real.
Cooper stood silent and stoic for what seemed like hours. He didn’t know Nori well enough to comfort her, though he wanted to. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave her grieving, and desolate, and broken. So he stood in her room, lending support the only way he could: with his presence.
After a while, Nori looked up. The gravity of her sober gaze took him by surprise. “I have to go to them.”
He stepped closer, but didn’t touch her. “There’s nowhere to go. The whole town was decimated. I saw it.”
Her resolve faltered, her eyes shuttering for a moment before she shook her head and cleared her throat. “Doesn’t matter. I know my parents. They’ve made it through somehow.”
“I’m sure they were very strong,” he said. “Just look at you. But no one could’ve survived that, Nori. And besides, Hank won’t let you leave.”
“He can’t keep me here!”
Cooper did touch her then, clasping her upper arms. He wanted to shake her, to shake sense and comprehension into her silly little head. “Yes, he can. And he will. He’s an honest man with a soft spot for underdogs, but he’s a businessman first. He paid a lot of money for you, and he’s not going to let his investment go on a fools errand.”
“‘Fools errand,” she whispered. “You think they’re dead.” It wasn’t a question.
Cooper’s resolve cracked under her desperate, horrified gaze. He loosened his grip on her arms, but held on. “God, Nori, I…” He let go of her shoulders and ran his arms behind her back, pulling her solidly into his body. She stiffened, too stunned to move, but didn’t pull away. One heartbeat. Two. And then Nori crumbled into him. He held her as she struggled to catch her breath between sobs, as her legs gave out and her body went limp. He held her until she took a final sniff, running a hand between the two of them to wipe her eyes and nose.
At last she looked up, her too-blue eyes so swollen and red-rimmed they were eerily reminiscent of the sunscorched world. She cleared her throat, staring into Cooper’s gaze so long he started to speak just to end the charged silence.
“I’m going to find them, Cooper,” she said. “There has to be a way.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Hank had listened as Nori told her story, leaning his head to the side and clicking his tongue sympathetically toward the end.
Though she’d left out a significant part about coming from the Surface, he seemed to her engrossed in the tale of how she’d been separated from her parents, swindled by a stranger, and left to fend for herself before being captured by Sarge and his minions. Hank seemed sympathetic to her situation…until she asked for his help, asked to be released to go in search of her parents.
“Please,” Nori begged, putting the fierceness of her love in her words and her eyes. “Please let me go to them.”
“I understand your situation, darlin’,” he said. “I really do, and I’m sorry. But I can’t let you leave. Besides the danger someone like you could get in on your own, there’s the pretty substantial fact that I have a lot of money invested in you.”
“That’s not my fault!” Nori’s grief morphed into anger. “You chose to give that jerk your money. That’s on you. You can’t own people.”
“I can, and I do,” Hank said. “And whether you’ll admit it or not, I saved you the day I gave that jerk my money. There are worse fates than being here. It’s honest work under my protection. You’re lucky Cooper was there that day. You’re lucky he brought you here. And a little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”
“Gratitude?” Nori scoffed. “You want me to thank you for holding me hostage? For keeping me here when my family needs me? When they’re out there homeless and worried sick about me? They’ll never find me in here. That’s why I have to go to them.”
“They’re probably already gone!” Hank’s voice boomed through the small office. “Did you think of that?”
Nori jerked and shrank into herself.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just— This is ridiculous. The answer is no.”
Nori scrubbed her face with her hands, taking long, deep breaths to regain her composure. What would she do? What could she do? She went very still. Her mind was resolved as soon as the thought struck her.
“Fine,” she said. “Thanks for nothing, you old goat. There’s your gratitude.”
The slam of the door splintered the silence in the hall. She had no doubt the entire Pit had heard their conversation, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“Nori, I—”
“Don’t even start,” she interrupted Cooper. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in an irritated breath. “This is your fault, too. I wouldn’t be stuck here if it weren’t for you.”
Cooper reached out to hold her arms again, but she jerked from him.
His head and hands dropped. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. But I did what I could.”
Nori didn’t say another word, didn’t say goodbye. She strode to her room and shut the door.
She had work to do.
28
A Bad Break
Armed with her pocketknife and loaded with all the water and Vitabars she could carry, Nori closed the door to her room as she left. She regretted not being able to say goodbye to Kade, but he’d admitted he would never let her leave. After a final glance in the direction of her friend’s room, she headed toward the Pit and the Subterranean beyond it.
Her temporary home wasn’t just quiet as she left, but a vacuum of sound. Her steps and nervous breaths, though she aimed for silence, ricocheted down the hall. Luckily, she’d planned her escape when everyone was asleep, tiptoeing past the cavernous Pit. Sixty yards to freedom.
If she could just get through Trogtown unnoticed, she could hurry down those steps and escape into the tunnel the same way she’d come in. There were twenty-two turns. She’d kept track, despite speeding through tunnels on the back of Cooper’s motorcycle. Scribbling down notes at the first opportunity, she had noted turns and infrequent landmarks, sure the information would be useful sooner or later. As she snuck away from the Pit, she was thankful she’d had the foresight to tuck the notes away for just such an occasion.
Breaking into Dave’s store for more supplies before leaving town was another risk. Was it worth it? She had food—such as it was—water, and a weapon. That would have to do. She had no need of lanterns or lights, after all, which would give her one advantage over anyone who pursued her.
Would Hank send Kade when he discovered her missing? Diesel and Bron? Would he hunt her himself? Nori shuddered at the thought of being hunted, but pushed her fears down deep. She had to do this. Had to know. Her parents had not died in the sunscorch, she knew it. She knew it. She hoped. Oh, God, she hoped they were safe.
Halfway across the Pit. Thirty yards to freedom. She ran a hand across the weight bar Kade had been lifting when she first met him. She would miss having a friend. It had been nice while it lasted. But when she found her parents and they made a new home—somewhere—she would make new friends.
Fifteen yards to freedom. Nori’s pace ticked up as she neared the doorway, and she worked to slow her breathing, to calm down and escape as quietly as possible. The double doors were locked, but she’d taken the key from Hank’s office days ago. She shrugged. It was his own fault. He’d been foolish to trust her, to think she wouldn’t try to escape. In the nineteen days she’d been there, she’d secretly planned for this day. How could she not? That Hank considered her his property made no difference to her.
She’d promised to meet her parents after the sunscorch, and that was what she intended to do. But it had been eleven days since the scorch. She’d never thought it would take Cooper so long. Had she missed the window to reach them? Had they moved on? No. She shook her head. They wouldn’t leave without word from her. Were they waiting somewhere? Trying to find where Barker had taken her? That was most likely, and oh, how she hated the thought of her sweet parents in a panic to find the concealed entrance to the Subterranean.
“Going somewhere?” Hank’s voice ruptured the darkness, laced with anger and ego. “You think I’m that stupid, girl? You think I didn’t know you’d try to leave if I didn’t let you go? You think I haven’t been through this same damn thing before?” He stood from a chair propped against a support column. “Turn around, now, and get back to your room. I don’t know what punishment you’ll get for stealing my food and trying to sneak off like this, but I’ll think of something.”
Nori’s face was hot. He’d been there the entire time, and she hadn’t seen him, even with her keen night vision. Tucked behind the column like that, he must’ve watched her creep through the Pit. He’d probably laughed when she’d cast worried looks behind her, when she’d hunkered down and crept toward the door like a cat burglar. Humiliation sent blood straight to her head and anger resurfaced.
“I have to get to my parents,” Nori grated through clenched teeth. “It may not be tonight, but I’ll get out of here. Just you wait and see.” Spinning on her heel, Nori moved to stalk back to her room. Instead, she nearly collided with Kade. Shame and fear flooded her senses, and she felt two feet tall. She turned her head from her friend, not daring to look up at him.
“I’ll buy her freedom.”
Nori jerked at Kade’s words, and her head snapped up.
“What?” she and Hank said at the same time.
“I’ll give you what you paid for her. Just let her go. Let her try.”
“You don’t have that kind of money,” Hank said with a sneer.
“I do.” Kade’s voice was confident. “With winnings from this last fight and what I’ve saved over the years through a little gambling of my own, I can do it. I can pay for her freedom. I had planned to use it for something else…” Kade swallowed and looked away. “But, well, there’s no use now.”
“You’d do that?” Nori’s gaze lit on ev
ery inch of Kade’s face. He was serious. He had the money.
Hank’s breath came hard. He was boiling mad. Not just at her escape or the prospect of losing her through a fair purchase, she thought, but at Kade’s betrayal.
“I won’t let her leave for less than six.” Hank’s snarl was a vile thing.
Kade stepped toward Hank and towered over the big man. “I know you only paid fifty-five.”
“That’s my price,” he spat. “Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.” Kade’s voice was resigned. “But I’m leaving, too.”
“Kade, please.” Hank’s tune had changed fast. “You can’t leave. You’re the champ now. Think of the money to be made in title fights. You want to buy her freedom, fine. She can go for fifty-five. But don’t go. Not like this. Don’t give up everything you’ve worked so hard for.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Hank. None of it does. With Grant gone, I… It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I knew that little punk would come between us,” Hank snarled. “I should never have let it get that far. Should’ve gotten him out of here when I could. Now he’s a damned martyr.”
Kade gasped, shocked at Hank’s admission. His eyes shone with the depth of his pain. “You did try to trade him. I didn’t believe it. Didn’t believe him. You promised me, Hank. You promised.”
Hank closed his eyes as a look of shame and something else—defiance—plagued his features. “He didn’t want you to fight anymore. Came to me and begged me not to schedule any more bouts. Can you imagine? The nerve of that little… He had to go. I saw the way you looked at him. Knew he’d get his way eventually.”
