Weight of Ashes

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Weight of Ashes Page 14

by Rook Winters


  “Alright,” Court said and wriggled free of the man’s bony grip.

  “Beware the skies. They’re flying today.”

  CHAPTER 31: BRITT

  “No information on Novak’s whereabouts,” Bear said.

  “What about the new dock supervisor?” Britt asked.

  “Vidonia Kraft, age thirty-seven. Formerly a logistics coordinator at another dock. Doesn’t know her father, her mother died in an accident six years ago. No siblings, no children, no record of negative encounters with any Qyntarak-linked businesses. Below average debt load. This is a promotion so she’ll be making more money and feeling good about her life. I just don’t see any avenue to approach her. I think this dock will be cold for the foreseeable future.”

  “What does that mean for us?” Wilm asked. He was sitting cross-legged on top of a crate.

  Sitting like that would be murder on my hips. Am I too old to be thinking about starting a new site? Maybe it’s time to pass the torch…

  Without moving her head, she shook the thoughts away.

  No, I don’t give up because things get a little challenging.

  She looked from Wilm to Bear. They were believers in the cause and they believed in her leadership. Time to be a leader.

  “It means we prioritize finding a new site. We have legitimate inventory we can sell and ship from here still. We’ll use those proceeds to bootstrap another location.”

  The men nodded in agreement.

  “Bear,” she continued, “I know you just started looking, but anything to share about potential locations?”

  Bear shook his head.

  “How long—” Wilm began to ask but stopped when the latch of the door clicked open.

  “Sorry I’m so late,” Ainsley said after the door had closed behind her.

  “We started without you,” Britt said. “The short version is that this dock is cold and we need to scout for a new location.”

  “There’s something else. The reason I’m late. Someone is looking for Nora Barrett.”

  CHAPTER 32: ELLE

  Elle wrinkled her nose as she examined the bedsheets in their room.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the cleanliness standards of a person living in a tree would be questionable.”

  “It’s better than the street, isn’t it?” Court said.

  “Marginally. I think I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  The space was tiny. A toilet, a ten-liter jug of water, and a small counter took up one wall. A bed for two lined the other. The door couldn’t even open all the way, but it had only cost twenty qynars for the night (or less, as the desk clerk had said with a wink).

  “There’s not much room to sleep on the floor.”

  “All the more reason for me to sleep there. I’m smaller.”

  “Not for long if I don’t eat something.”

  “Right,” she said and handed him a pouch. “By the way, this is food.”

  Court tore open the packet. The bewilderment on his face was unmistakable.

  “What, exactly, is this?”

  “Food.”

  “Yes, you said that. But what is it made from? It doesn’t look real.”

  “I’m not sure but it’s all we have, so you’d better eat it.”

  He scrunched his face as he took a tentative bite.

  “Well?”

  “You were right about one thing. It’s not as good as apples or rabbit.”

  She laughed and they both ate. She felt better almost immediately and thought she saw an upswing in Court’s mood soon after, even if he hadn’t enjoyed the taste.

  “Do you think that water is safe to drink?” Court asked.

  “For twenty qynars a night, I wouldn’t risk it. We should have bought clean water, I didn’t think about that.”

  “I can wait until morning.”

  “That’s good, because I’m exhausted.”

  She lay in the narrow space on the floor, her feet by the toilet and her head near the door. A third of her body was under the bed frame. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she hadn’t seen the sea of dust beside her.

  “Any idea what we’ll do in the morning?” Court asked from the bed.

  “None.” She could hear the weariness in her own voice—and the defeat. They’d hit a dead end. They had no clue about how to proceed and very little money left to survive on. “Hopefully, a good night’s rest will provide some clarity.”

  Sleep took Elle quickly but kept a loose hold on her. Footsteps and giggling in the hallway woke her several times. When the Rofchild grew quiet, her dreams tormented her. Vaidehi being shot from the sky. An apple tree bursting into flames. The crazy man from the tree falling from its burning branches, his face turning into a giant mouth full of tiny, pointed teeth.

  The giant mouth kept repeating, “Beware the skies. They’re flying today.”

  Something jolted her awake. Their room didn’t have a window so she couldn’t tell how late it was. She squinted, trying to judge whether the light coming in under the door was brighter than the last time she woke up. A shadow moved in unison with a creak.

  Someone was outside the door. She looked up, straining in the dim light to confirm that the chain lock was in place.

  It was.

  Good, she thought.

  The electronic lock clicked, and the door cracked open. Elle held her breath and reached up to grab Court’s arm. He grunted and rolled out of her reach. The door opened further.

  She realized her head was close enough for someone to see her, and maybe even grab her, through the opening. She pushed herself away, twisting so her legs slid under the bed and bunching her torso and arms by the toilet, its stink making her nose curl.

  The chain jingled and pulled taut. Then the door shut with a soft click.

  Elle pulled herself up beside the bed, clamped her hand over Court’s mouth, and shook him with as much force as she dared, hoping she didn’t make enough noise to leak past the door.

  His eyes went wide, and he struggled until he registered her shushing him. She pointed at the door and the light leaking under it. The shadow was gone.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered groggily.

  “There’s someone out there. They just tried opening our door.”

  “Looks like they’ve moved on,” he muttered then lay back down and closed his eyes.

  Elle sat on the edge of the bed watching the light, making sure the shadow didn’t return. Her heart was racing, and she concentrated on taking slow, intentional breaths.

  A loud knock on the door made her flinch and forced Court awake.

  “Housekeeping,” a man said from the hallway.

  They didn’t answer him. More knocking.

  “Housekeeping,” the man repeated. “I’m here to clean the room.”

  The electronic lock clicked again. This time the door opened to the limit of the chain. Court jumped up and tried to push it shut but there was a boot between the door and the jamb.

  “Can you come back later?” Elle said.

  “Sorry. Can’t.”

  Something swung through the opening in a blur and pieces of the chain clattered to the floor. The door burst open, slamming into Court’s nose. He fell back on the bed, his legs trapped between the mattress and the door. The man came into the room and pressed the end of a Scorpion baton into Court.

  “Don’t move.” He had a gun in his other hand. Elle recognized the model from her training—a Morris S7 stun gun, powerful enough to put her in a coma at full strength. He pointed it at her. “You either.”

  CHAPTER 33: COURT

  The baton biting into his chest made Court think of Marsh lying dead in the village.

  “You either,” the intruder said, pointing his gun at Elle.

  His focus was off Court for a fraction of a second and Court took the opening. He grabbed the baton with both hands and rolled his whole body, pulling the man off balance. The gun went off with a crack, a shower of sparks jumping from where it struc
k the wall.

  While the man tried to right himself, Elle kicked at his knee. With the fourth kick, he bellowed. When he shifted his weight to his other leg, Court got an elbow to the man’s stomach. He grunted and rolled away from Court toward the corner of the room. In a blur, the gun snapped again and Elle collapsed.

  “No,” Court screamed. While he watched Elle convulse, he heard another snap and the room burst into a thousand brilliant colors before everything went black.

  CHAPTER 34: ELLE

  What is that ringing?

  Elle tried to open her eyes but it hurt. The light was so bright. And the ringing…

  Where am I?

  Her lips were parched.

  When is it? Why am I so thirsty?

  She heard nothing but the ringing. No voices, no movement.

  Elle cracked her eyes open more slowly. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the room with her. She tried to get up but was tied to a cot.

  Trying not to panic, she studied her surroundings: white walls, no windows, no decorations, and no signs. A tube with a blue sticker that read WATER hung near her face.

  She rolled her head further and got her lips around the tube. She sucked but there was no liquid.

  A water tube with no water? What is wrong with these people?

  She remembered the room at the Rofchild. A man had forced his way in.

  Court… Where’s Court?

  She had to get out. She had to find Court.

  Elle struggled against the ropes but they offered no promise of slackening as she twisted and strained; defeated, she let her head fall back for a reprieve from the pointless exertion. It wasn’t going to work. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  Out of her line of sight, she heard movement.

  “Oh, you’re awake. Good. I was just bringing you some water in case you were thirsty when you came to.” A woman hung a blue bag of liquid on the bed frame and attached the hose to it.

  “Just sip through the straw if you need a drink.”

  Elle hated to show weakness in front of her unknown captor but she was desperate. She drank enough so she could speak clearly.

  “Where am I? Who are you?”

  “Hold those questions for just a moment.” The woman called out, “The girl’s awake.”

  “Finally,” a man said.

  The voice sounded familiar, but from where? When his face came into view, she understood. It was the man from the Rofchild, the man who’d broken into their room. She should have expected that but her head was still so foggy.

  “Who are you?” Elle demanded.

  “I had the same question for you. No implanted IDs that we can detect. No ID bracelet on you or your friend.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

  “If this is your idea of fine, then I beg to differ.”

  The man laughed. “That’s a funny expression, isn’t it? I beg to differ. I suppose it was meant to sound polite once upon a time. It’s a really old-fashioned saying. Makes me wonder where someone your age picked it up.”

  Keep quiet, she told herself. He’s trying to goad you into talking.

  “Look, we don’t want trouble with you. Just tell us who you are,” the woman said.

  “If you don’t know who we are, why did you break into our room? Sort of makes it seem like you do want trouble.”

  “Was that a threat? Did she just threaten me?”

  “Would you knock it off,” the woman said. “You were asking about Nora Barrett. How do you know that name?”

  It was like a spark ignited in Elle’s brain.

  They know about Nora Barrett…

  “Did you know her?” Elle asked.

  The man laughed. “You could say that.”

  “Nora Barrett vanished quite a while ago. We’re interested in any information about her. Why were you looking for her?”

  “I’m not inclined to sharing with people who’ve kidnapped and tied me up.”

  The man let out a frustrated sigh.

  “She’s right,” the woman said. “We haven’t given her any reason to trust us.”

  “She tried to dislocate my knee.”

  “After you broke into her room.”

  “Right, I see your point. I’ll untie you. We only want to talk.”

  He untied the ropes and gave Elle room to stand up. The man was even bigger than she’d realized. He had at least six inches on her.

  Once free, she saw Court tied to a chair and unconscious. Elle rushed to him.

  “He’s not hurt, only stunned from a neuroelectrical inhibitor slug. He’ll come around soon. You came to faster than normal,” the woman said.

  Elle rubbed the spot where the slug had hit. It was tender.

  “You’ll have a nasty bruise there. Maybe a welt. Sorry about that,” the man said.

  “Can you wake him?”

  “No, it’s best to let his body revive itself at its own pace,” the woman said.

  “And what happens if I tell you why we were asking about Nora Barrett?”

  “That depends on what you tell us,” the man said.

  “Are you trying to be an asshole or is it just coming naturally?” the woman said to him. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I guess you could say that we’re concerned about her legacy.”

  The statement didn’t make sense to Elle but the word legacy caused her to think of Dr. Donovan, which made her remember the suit.

  “Where’s my bag?”

  “We have it,” the woman said. “We were surprised to find Aldebaran tech in it.”

  “It belongs to me. I want it back.”

  “Belongs to you?” The man laughed. “You mean you stole it from somewhere.”

  “Give me my bag, and the suit, and I’ll tell you what you want to know. Then you let us go. Deal?”

  “Fine.” The woman retrieved the bag from the next room and returned it to Elle. The helmet, the suit, and her anonymous currency device were all inside.

  “Well?”

  “We’re delivering a message. An old friend of hers died and asked us to let her know.”

  “We already know that,” the man said. “That’s what you told the superintendent at the university.”

  “Who was the friend?” the woman asked.

  “You’re not Nora Barrett,” Elle said. “That news is for her.”

  The man snorted. “And I’m the asshole?”

  A voice came from the adjoining room. “Enough of this bullshit. Ainsley, Bear, you’re just going in circles. Let’s cut to the chase.” Another woman, much older than the first, came in with palms extended. “I’m Nora Barrett.”

  CHAPTER 35: PETRA

  Kane’s face was a bit bigger than life-size on Petra’s oversized tablet screen. She could see spittle spraying as he yelled.

  “We’ve been here for nineteen hours. You had them on video. How can you not have any idea where they are?”

  “They went into the old Toronto financial district on foot. There was no way to track them.”

  She noted a vein that bulged on Kane’s forehead. She didn’t remember seeing that before. Then again, she’d never seen him this visibly upset.

  “We have access to every video feed. We have the most sophisticated systems in the world for facial recognition, gait analysis, voice analysis. We have grav flyers patrolling the streets that found their forged ID bracelets on the side of a road from seventy-five meters. This is unacceptable.”

  Panic started to grab hold in Petra’s gut. Her little, windowless control room suddenly felt much too small. She’d pushed it too far. Kane was going to conclude that she was incompetent.

  I’ll be off the team. My mission will… it’ll… I’ll be scrubbed.

  A screen to her left flashed. She glanced that way involuntarily. Even on the brink of being fired, she couldn’t stop herself from doing her job.

  “Am I distracting you from something, agent?”

  “Wait one.” She tapped and swiped th
rough the incoming data feed. “We’ve got a lead. Ninety minutes ago. The Rofchild, a rent-by-the-hour establishment within walking distance of their last known location. An assailant stunned the front desk clerk and broke into a room. Occupants were a man and woman matching approximate age and description of L37 and her companion. Signs of struggle, no blood, stunner slugs found in the room. Local authorities are investigating.”

  “Now we’re talking,” Kane said. “Pull up the video feed. Let’s take a look.”

  “Sorry, sir, I can’t. The Rofchild doesn’t have a networked system. Police notes say they’re reviewing security footage so there must be an on-site archive. I’ll be able to see whatever the police upload to central storage but there’s no telling how long that will be.”

  Kane looked offscreen. “Wilkes, take a couple folks to this Rofchild rooming house in Toronto and look at those recordings.”

  “Roger that, boss.”

  “Good work, Petra. Keep searching on your end.”

  Kane disconnected the video call and Petra flopped back into her chair.

  I did what I could for you, L37. You’re on your own now.

  CHAPTER 36: ELLE

  “B-but you’re supposed to be dead,” Elle said.

  The woman claiming to be Nora Barrett grinned. “I look pretty good in spite of it, though, don’t I?”

  “Prove that you’re her.”

  “You want me to prove that I’m me? Alright, Ainsley, am I Nora Barrett?”

  “Yes. Or at least you used to be.”

  “There you go. I’m Nora Barrett, or at least I used to be.”

  She wore a charming smile that grew bigger as if her own banter entertained her. Elle didn’t reciprocate the smile, maintaining an icy stare and trying to think of what would make her believe this woman was, or was not, Nora Barrett.

  “When you were younger, who were some of your friends?”

  “A test? Clever. I’ve had lots of friends over the years. Care to be more specific?”

  Elle closed her eyes, trying to remember what Marsh had said.

  They were, what, students together? Worked together?

 

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