Metaltown

by Kristen Simmons

  She saw the gray buildings first. She’d heard talk of how drab this area—Metaltown—could be, but her father didn’t think it was fitting for a lady, so she’d yet to see it with her own eyes. As they drew closer to the factories, her excitement began to crystallize into a cold, hard ball in the bottom of her stomach. People—the kind she didn’t want to find herself alone with—were all around, a sea of dirty clothes and dirty faces. They were all staring at the car like a cat tracks a mouse. She placed a hand on her weapon unconsciously, and leaned forward.

  “Otto said he would meet us here?”

  “Yes, Miss Hampton. Within the hour.”

  Which meant at least two, in Otto-speak.

  She removed the address from her pocket and passed it up between the seats.

  “Aja, can you bring me here? I’d like to check on someone. It will only take a few minutes.”

  “Miss Hampton.” Aja’s tone was wary. “Your father wouldn’t be pleased with any unexpected stops. This isn’t the kind of area where…”

  “It’s fine, Aja. I’ll have you with me.”

  He hesitated. “Very well, Miss Hampton.”

  They turned down a side street and passed by what looked to be a flea market. Most of the carts and tents were still covered for the night, but there were a few people up and about, picking through the leftovers.

  Aja slowed the car, and looked out the opposite window.

  “We should be close, Miss Hampton. I believe the address you’re looking for is just down that way. Who are we visiting?”

  “Just an old friend…”

  A woman with a red shawl around her shoulders caught Lena’s eye from across the street. Her long, dark hair was braided down her back, and she’d tucked her pants into worn boots that blossomed around her ankles. Even though her clothes were baggy, Lena could tell that she was slim.

  Familiarity had her hands pressing against the window, had her straining her eyes for a better look. As if the woman could sense she was being watched, she turned to the side, giving Lena a glimpse of her profile.

  Everything within her snapped into place. Every muscle, every nerve, every piece of her once-broken heart. Joy lifted her mouth to a grin.

  She was here.

  “Stop!” Lena screeched. Aja slammed on the brakes, but he was too late, the woman had already left the flea market and disappeared around the corner.

  Lena jerked the handle of the door open and spilled out onto the street.

  “Miss Hampton!” she heard Aja yell, but the choice was upon her. Follow the woman, or wait for protection. Her feet made up her mind; she was already jogging toward the corner.

  “Aja, come on. Hurry up!” she called over her shoulder.

  There were a few women—prostitutes—sitting on crates against the stone wall, and Lena felt their confused stares pull toward her. More people were emerging from the nearby streets, dressed in their work clothes, moving with a sense of purpose.

  “Look at Miss High Class,” one of the girls yelled.

  Lena’s throat grew tight as her happiness plummeted. Her eyes strained in all directions, but the place was becoming more and more crowded. Where was Aja? There was plenty of room to park the car; he should have reached her by now. Instead, she found herself alone in a sea of sneering faces, all staring at her clothes. She looked at the doors of the buildings around her, but none of them were marked.

  “Sorry,” she said as someone bumped into her. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” she said to a tall man, but he had already passed and did not look back.

  She scanned the area, searching desperately for that familiar face. For that red shawl. The force of her impulsivity caught up to her, slamming around her rib cage. She’d never done anything so uncalculated and reckless.

  “What do we have here?” a man asked, fixing his hat as he moved toward her. She felt for the defuser in her waistband, and gripping the handle, turned her head down and skirted to the side. Again, she wished for Aja to appear. She ducked into a narrow alley, glancing back out onto the street with a shudder of panic. He should have caught up with her by now.

  She’d made a mistake. The woman wasn’t here. The address was wrong—there weren’t even numbered apartments in this area, and she wasn’t about to go knocking door-to-door like a crazy person. Defeat sagged her shoulders. Her old nanny could have gone anywhere in the Northern Federation after her father had laid her off. She had no reason to come to this place.

  Feeling intolerably stupid, Lena forced one solid breath and peeked out into the street at the heavy flow of people. Part of her considered stepping into the rush, but it was hard to see exactly where she’d left the car or to know where she should go to find Aja. If she was being honest, the crowd frightened her a little, and staying put seemed like the best course of action.

  “Damn it all to hell,” she said to herself. And then in a burst, recited every curse she’d ever heard Otto say.

  “I always thought pretty girls weren’t allowed to say dirty words.”

  She spun around to find a boy leaning against the alley wall with his arms crossed. He was dressed warmly, like the others she’d seen, in an oversized wool coat and heavy slacks. A gray knit cap was pulled back, revealing his eyes—piercing blue, like the river water just after it had been dyed. He had stubble on his jaw and chin, and a cockeyed smile that made all sorts of warning bells sound the alarm in her brain.

  He must have come out of one of the dented metal doors that lined these rain-stained walls, or climbed down the fire escape from a window above them when she wasn’t looking. Surprised, her mouth gaped, but she shut it quickly.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “You don’t have to excuse yourself,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot worse.”

  “I … no,” Lena said, shocked by his forwardness. “I’m sorry. I’ll say what I like.”

  “So why are you apologizing?” He moved toward her with long, confident strides, slowing when she took several quick steps back and nearly tripped over a broken chair someone had discarded.

  “Stop right there. Please,” she added, pulse flying. If she backed up any more, he’d push her right into the crowd, and she’d be swallowed up.

  He stopped, grinned. “Since you asked so nicely.”

  Irritation heated her blood. She was not about to be undermined by a cocky boy from the factory district. She set her feet, set her jaw, and stood up as tall as she could. Even in her boots she didn’t quite reach his shoulders. “If you’re trying to intimidate me, it won’t work.” She tugged at her gloves. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  His head tilted to the side, and as he gazed slowly down her body, a flush rose in her cheeks. Whoever had taught this boy manners had failed. Miserably.

  “Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine,” he said.

  She gawked, but quickly pulled herself together. A Hampton remained composed, even under the most trying of circumstances.

  “Lena,” she said, cursing the waver in her voice. “It’s Lena.”

  He held out his hand, calloused fingertips extending through the holes in his woven gloves. “I’m Colin.”

  10

  COLIN

  She was pretty enough, he’d give her that much. Pretty, and definitely in the wrong place.

  Her smooth, honey-colored skin and soft, clean hair stuck out just as much as those high-society clothes. Girls in Metaltown dressed for the cold outside and the heat inside the factories—layered up so bulky you could hardly tell their shape. Their faces were pale from long hours of work, and they certainly didn’t wear makeup. Not unless they were working a corner. She’d been the last thing he’d expected to find when he’d come up from the basement apartment, and he’d been caught so off guard that he’d glanced back inside just to make sure he’d dumped Hayden in the right place.

  Once he’d figured out he wasn’t crazy, he settled in for the show, entertained by her nervous pacing and the curvy shape of her thighs. She wa
s little, but full in all the right places, and something about the way she spoke made him think of the way kids balance on a curb, teetering faster and faster right until the moment they fall off.

  “So,” he said, “how’s your stay so far in Metaltown? Has the staff been helpful?” Obviously she was lost, but for some reason he didn’t want to point that out. She was probably from over the beltway. Bakerstown, maybe, though if that were true, he had no idea what she was doing here.

  One gloved hand rose to smooth her perfect hair. “I’m fairly certain no one would come here for vacation.”

  He smiled at her condescending tone. “I don’t know. Metaltown is full of secret hot spots, you know. If you wanted a tour—”

  “I’m here for work.” Her eyes darted to the flow of people outside the alley, then quickly back to him.

  The muscles in his chest clenched, just for a moment. A Bakerstown kid, clearly out of her element, looking for a job. Something about that story rang familiar.

  “What a coincidence, so am I.” Colin took another step forward.

  She backed into the wall, her face drawn with worry. “You should know I have a weapon.”

  “Three guesses where you stashed it.”

  Her cheeks turned bright red, the same color as her snug little jacket. One hand shot behind her back.

  “Easy,” he said, realizing he’d scared her. “I surrender.” He raised his hands over his head to prove it.

  She was shivering, trying to hide her chattering teeth, but the breath was clouding in front of her face. Not the smartest move, dressing so thin, but he’d made mistakes when he’d come here too. If not for Ty setting him straight, he wouldn’t have lasted a week.

  He wondered if she had anyone setting her straight. Not from the sounds of it. Definitely not from the looks of it.

  “Here.” He took off his scarf and offered it to her, more than a little regretful when the cold air gripped his throat.

  “Oh. I couldn’t.”

  “Don’t want to freeze to death. Besides, you can give it back next time you see me.”

  She didn’t laugh. That was promising.

  Her prissy little nose crinkled up, but she took it, and folded it around her neck. He liked the way it clashed with her outfit. Soon enough, Metaltown would work its way into her clothes, and her pretty skin, and that scarf would blend right in.

  It was kind of a shame, when he thought about it.

  “I’m a little lost,” she admitted after a moment.

  “You don’t say.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and now she took a step toward him. “You don’t need to make fun of me,” she said. “I haven’t done anything to deserve it. I’ve got things to do, and I don’t have time to play games.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” he asked, amused at her scolding. “Playing a game?”

  Her lips parted slightly, and his gaze lowered there and stuck. Then he looked up, hoping she hadn’t noticed, and jammed his hands into his pockets.

  “Miss Hampton!”

  A big man in a suit barreled into the alley, a line of sweat dripping from his black hair down his jaw. As his gaze moved from Lena to Colin, he bared his teeth.

  “Finally,” Lena muttered.

  Colin staggered back quickly.

  “Hampton?” he managed.

  “Miss Hampton, the car is waiting across the street.”

  Lena nodded, eyes flicking between the two of them.

  “Hampton?” Colin said again. Then he began to laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  So much for both of them having the same sad Bakerstown story.

  “Is this boy harassing you?” The man glared at Colin.

  “I suppose that depends on your definition of harassment,” said Lena, clearly more comfortable in the other man’s presence. Colin choked a little, and she waved a hand. “We barely spoke, Aja.”

  Barely spoke? It became immediately clear that she didn’t want to be seen associating with him, and he nearly laughed at the irony of it.

  She looked at him a second longer, as though expecting him to say something more, but what was he going to say to a Hampton? What was a Hampton even doing out here? They had middlemen like Minnick to run their factories. There was no reason for them to cross the beltway.

  “Well … good-bye,” she finally said, shoving her hand out so quickly he flinched. Tentatively, he shook it. Again. And when he squeezed her fingers, just a little, she jerked away.

  “Good-bye,” she said again.

  “Bye.” He tipped his head forward, and she huffed, like he’d done it to annoy her.

  With her servant clearing the way, she marched back into the crowded street, leaving Colin, bewildered, in the alley.

  * * *

  On his way to work, Colin stopped at the smoke shack outside the employee entrance of the Stamping Mill. The night crew was just about to get off, and there was still a half-hour before he had to report for his shift at Small Parts. As he waited outside the door, the chill hit him. The girl had taken his scarf, he realized, a little annoyed now that he knew she probably had thirty of them at home. He could still see how she’d turned up her nose at the offer.

  He could still see all of her, perfectly.

  I suppose that depends on your definition of harassment, she’d said. Cold. Why he’d expected different was beyond him.

  But something about her was different. The way she’d acknowledged him at all, instead of blowing him off. The way she’d shaken his hand when they said good-bye. He didn’t know how she was related to the big boss, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t just flush, she was powerful, and that meant hands off. Not that he was ever going to see her, anyway.

  The door opened, and a rush of people exited the building. A few he knew greeted him with tired smiles and slaps on the back.

  “Ida, your boy’s here,” a man named Fritz called, one hand clasped on Colin’s shoulder. Sweat had etched lines through the powder smears on his forehead and cheeks. “One more day down, eh, Colin?”

  “Till what?” Colin asked.

  “Till I die,” Fritz answered with a wink. “And I can get out of this rat hole.”

  “Fritz, stop pestering my baby.”

  Colin’s ma was tall for a woman, built thick and strong. Her face was much like his, with a broad jaw and tired, blue eyes. The sleeves of her stained shirt were rolled up to her elbows. Colin leaned in automatically for her to plant a kiss on his cheek.

  “You look tired. Everything all right at home?” She cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Everything’s fine. She slept through the night.” He didn’t really know if that was true, of course—he’d only been home for a few minutes after he’d dumped Hayden at their friend Shima’s to sober up. But when he’d come in, he’d heard Cherish’s heavy breathing from the bedroom, and she hadn’t roused when he’d rinsed her blood-soaked rags.

  “Did Hayden check in?” With a heavy sigh, she pulled a hand-rolled cigarette from her pocket and stuck it between her teeth. It took her four strikes to light the match. He hated that his brother made her worry.

  “He did,” Colin said. “He left early for work, though.”

  “He look okay?”

  “Looked fine to me.” Which he had. When he wasn’t doubled up with the fever chills on Shima’s floor.

  Ida took a handkerchief out of her pocket. A few crumbled crackers were inside, and she handed them over to Colin.

  “I’m okay.” He’d eaten at Shima’s, and besides, he knew this was all his ma would have until the end of her shift.

  “All right.” Ida pulled his collar tighter around his neck, her lips thinning to hold the cigarette in place. “Anything big I should know about?”

  I talked to a Hampton this morning. “Nope,” said Colin.

  “Anything new at the factory?”

  Minnick made me scrub the johns because I ran an errand for Jed. “Where’s your coat?”

  “
Inside.”

  “Another full?”

  She nodded. Colin felt bad for her; she’d been working more double shifts over the past few months. She paid her dues to the Brotherhood like everyone else, but her salary was barely enough to keep the lights on, and the money Jed Schultz sent was never enough.

  If Hayden could get himself together, they’d do better. If Hayden could get himself clean, he could be the one helping out, and Colin, like Fritz, could get out of this rat hole.

  Bastard was set on ruining everything.

  Colin chewed a sharp edge off his pinky nail.

  A buzzer went off inside the factory. Ida crushed the end of her cigarette against the wall, and tucked it back in her pocket. Then she hugged him, and Colin could feel how skinny she was getting.

  Damn Hayden, and damn his stupid nitro.

  “Love you,” he said.

  “I love you, Colin. Be good today. Do the right thing.”

  “Don’t I always?” He smirked.

  “Yes,” she answered, her brows still furrowed. “You always do.”

  * * *

  Ty was already inside by the time he reached Small Parts. He recognized her things in the locker, and placed his beside them. Minnick didn’t even glance up as Colin passed through the metal detector; either he was in need of a fix or they had an inspection today. He was pastier than normal, and his collar was already soaked with a ring of sweat.

  The warehouse was warm, but the machinery had just started up and it would only be a matter of time before the room was blazing. The place was already alive with the crank and hum of grinding metal. He wasn’t surprised by Matchstick’s black eye, or by Martin’s self-satisfied smirk. Zeke only yawned when Colin passed.

  He ducked under the moving belt, and made his way toward the center of the floor where he and Ty were stationed. She was in the usual place wearing her usual padding. How she could stand the heat, he’d never know. Her eyes were down, her bare fingers twisting together two narrow metal rods.

  “You’re late,” she said irritably. “I’ve already done a dozen pieces so far. You’d better hurry and catch up.”