“Come on,” Colin grumbled, motioning for her to follow.
The main room opened up to the floor. The machines were already loud and cranking—she remembered the volume from her last time here—and it was already warm. As they went down the stairs, it occurred to her that she’d made a huge mistake. She didn’t belong here. She wasn’t trained. She’d never worked a day of labor in her life.
But when she thought of home, and the things her father and brother had done, she thought maybe she didn’t belong there, either.
Colin motioned her to the station where she’d seen him before. Wincing at the memory of firing the girl, she ducked under the belt and took a place beside him, opposite a big boy Colin called Henry.
“Mary,” Lena said, introducing herself. “I’m a sub from the uniform division.”
Colin quirked a brow, impressed.
“They all look as good as you over there?” Henry asked.
Lena’s mouth fell open. Colin chuckled.
“What?” Henry grinned. “Just asking.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to Plastics?” Colin asked him.
He smiled again at Lena. “I will soon as the boss tells me to, and not a moment sooner.”
Colin just shook his head.
He showed her how to wire the detonators by sticking a small copper wire into a narrow metal rod. He asked her again to take off her gloves but she refused. Still, she wished she could—her hands were sweating fiercely within them, and they made the task cumbersome. For every piece she completed, Colin finished five. Frustrated, she tried to pick up the pace, but she kept screwing up.
“Lose the gloves or we won’t make quota,” he said.
She locked her jaw and ignored him.
The heat increased. She longed to take off her sweater, but Henry kept staring, and winking whenever she caught his gaze.
At the end of the second hour she stretched her back. Standing on the cement floor had made her heels begin to ache, and she longed for a glass of water.
“When’s our break?” she asked Colin.
“You had one,” he said. “All last night.”
“What about lunch?”
“Sorry, Mary,” he said. “No lunch today.”
Her mouth grew dry. A water girl came through, ogling Colin unabashedly. Lena passed; there were clearly things floating in the jug the girl had strapped over one shoulder. She might have fished it straight from the river.
Lena’s head was pounding.
“You all right?” Colin asked. One brow, the one divided by a scar, arched. She hated that he was waiting for her to give up.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and pushed on. “That area behind the curtain, what is that?”
“The hot room,” he said. “Don’t go near it. It’ll singe your hair off.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” she answered, temper on edge. But she worried what he meant.
She waited for noon, then drifted nonchalantly toward the hot room. Thick plastic strips blocked a clear view, and she blinked back the tangy burst of chemicals that assaulted her senses as she drew the strips back. Inside were a dozen workers near her age, dressed the same as Colin. They stood around a table where a line of metal cylinders waited for their unprotected hands. She opened her mouth in shock, tasting the sour air. No gloves. No masks. Her father would have to be informed immediately. This was unacceptable, inhuman treatment.
A thought sank its teeth into her: what if he already knew?
And then, as she watched, a boy darted to the corner, leaned over a trash can, and vomited. Less than a minute later, he was back at his station.
“Does this look like social hour, sweetbread?”
Lena spun, the hard plastic sheaths slapping together behind her. Mr. Minnick glared down at her, his face red. Immediately she lowered her gaze, skirting by him.
Don’t recognize me. Please don’t recognize me.
He didn’t. And not just because of the way she was dressed, or her disheveled appearance. Something was off about him. As she passed by she caught a strong whiff of something like cigar smoke, but more potent.
She shot across the room to go to the bathroom, but two other girls had the same idea, and when Mr. Minnick caught her in line he locked them all out with a sneer and a reminder that every minute wasted belonged to him. She dragged herself back to their station.
The minutes drew together. Her vision became blurry. She would have killed for a cold glass of water and a sandwich. The heat became unbearable, and the stench of working bodies and chemicals that infused every part of Metaltown made it even worse. Her stomach turned.
“It’s like this all the time?” she asked, but she already knew the answer.
“Welcome to Small Parts,” said Henry. “You don’t look so good.”
“Go home, Lena,” whispered Colin. He looked angry. “Tell Minnick who you are. He’ll call your family.”
I have nowhere else to go. “I’m not leaving.”
He shook his head.
The wires poked holes in her thin gloves and the sensitive pads of her fingers bled through. She didn’t stop. The ache between her temples turned to a throb. She didn’t stop. Quitting time came and went. She didn’t stop.
Nearly two hours after the plant should have closed, Mr. Minnick reappeared at the top of the stairs.
“On the floor!” shouted someone from her left. The blond boy she’d seen before, working in Batteries. He hadn’t noticed her when they’d run into each other this morning.
“On the floor!” Colin called on. Lena’s back objected when she straightened.
Two men appeared at the top of the stairs. Mr. Minnick, and a man with long hair that she recognized from her father’s party. The one her brother had paid for what she’d assumed was a gambling debt.
“Listen up, rats!” called Mr. Minnick. “You all know Schultz is here to talk to you about the Brotherhood, so don’t look so surprised. Wrap your crap up, and get your scrawny asses in line.”
One by one the machines shut off. Lena blinked back the dizziness, and pushed away when Colin placed a steadying hand on her elbow.
“Are you done proving you’re tough?” he asked.
“Not quite,” she said, still wavering.
He pointed her toward the stairs. “Go home, Lena. Things are about to get ugly.”
She mustered her best pithy look and shot it his way. What was she, a child? Exhausted, she followed him up the stairs, straining on every step. She was starving, and wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed at home and sleep. Anger scalded her insides. She couldn’t do anything right, not even day labor.
The boy she’d recognized from the battery department approached. The sweat made his short blond hair look crunchy. He glanced back at her. “Who’s she?”
“Just a sub,” mumbled Colin.
She kept her eyes trained on the backs of his heels, relieved when the boy took Colin’s word for it. If she could just get past them, to the bathroom, to the foreman’s office, anywhere, she could hide. Wait until they were all gone. Then figure out what to do.
“I thought Minnick hated Schultz,” said the battery boy to Zeke.
“He does,” said Colin. “If we sign up for the Brotherhood, Minnick won’t get to work us to the bone like he likes.”
Lena wondered what the Brotherhood was. It sounded like a cult. She’d seen the man beside the foreman—Schultz—but never had heard his name associated with a Brotherhood before.
Zeke leaned in, lowering his voice. “I heard Minnick hates Schultz because Schultz beat the holy hell outta him when he was a shell.”
“Minnick was a shell?” Colin asked.
Battery Boy’s face scrunched. “What’s a shell?”
“A fill-in worker,” said Zeke. “No skills, no nothin’. Just some bum off the street who’s so hard up he’s willing to work for half our wages.”
“Half of nothing…,” Battery Boy mused. “I think that�
��s still nothing, Zeke.”
She wondered what they did make—in all her research she hadn’t found a pay scale. Since she was technically a substitute on the line today, that should have entitled her to wages at the end of the day, but something told her not to hold her breath.
“What happened with Schultz?” Colin asked as they crowded forward.
“Schultz led the Stamping Mill press way back when, and while they weren’t working Hampton hired all these replacement shells to do their jobs for cheap. Minnick was one of them. Schultz and his crew worked them all over pretty good, and there’s been bad blood ever since.”
“So Schultz can press, but we can’t?” asked Colin. Lena perked up. Colin wanted to stage a protest? She felt a bite of betrayal, but could only blame herself. She was the one who’d walked into this situation blind.
“We don’t want to,” said Battery Boy. “Come on, leave it alone already.”
Colin grumbled something as they got in line. Lena knew she should leave; she didn’t really work here, and besides, Mr. Schultz might recognize her. Still, interest had her standing close behind Colin.
“Doesn’t look like they hate each other anymore,” commented Battery Boy.
“Someone’s got his fix, that’s why,” said Zeke under his breath.
As Lena drew closer she saw what he meant. Mr. Minnick’s eyes were bloodshot and too open. His cheeks were too rosy. His right shoulder kept twitching. Was he using drugs? At work? Automatically, she recorded this in her mental files, wondering if a time would come that she could tell Otto or even her father.
“Mr. Walter,” called Mr. Schultz, who had set up a table beside Minnick’s office. “Why don’t you come to the front of the line?”
She saw Colin’s shoulders tense. She dodged through the noisy crowd after him, grabbing onto the back of his shirt. “You were going to organize a press?”
He breathed in slowly. “I told you not to come today.”
Her hand dropped. He’d had plenty of opportunities to tell her this and had knowingly hid it. It wasn’t even like he could play it off that it wouldn’t matter to her, or that it wasn’t her business either. Her father owned this factory, and he knew it.
“You lied to me,” she said. “You told me what was going on involved the workers, not management.” A press directly involved her family—it meant work would come to a halt, and that was a big problem for Hampton Industries.
It shouldn’t have mattered. She didn’t know him. He had no reason to show her loyalty. But still, she felt like he’d left her out in the cold.
“I didn’t lie.” He paused just before reaching the front desk and faced her fully. His gaze reached deep inside of her, until she felt exposed, like everyone here could see who she was. “I just didn’t tell you everything. I liked it when you didn’t hate me.”
What was that supposed to mean?
A second later he reached the table. The line behind him went silent.
He cleared his throat. “Thanks, Mr. Schultz, but I can’t join the Brotherhood. Not when I can get someone to watch my back for free.”
Lena’s throat was parched, her cheeks too hot. Everyone was still staring since Colin had spoken to her. Who was Colin talking about? What was he talking about?
A girl with small, mousy features appeared in front of her, and as Lena watched, her face fell out of focus.
“Are you okay?” the girl asked, her voice far away.
“I’m just hot,” Lena said. But the room was already spinning, and before she could grab onto something solid, she fell backwards into Zeke.
22
COLIN
Jed’s lips twisted into a strange, satisfied smirk. Colin returned his stare, unwilling to be the first to look away.
“Sign the form, Mr. Walter.” With an ink pen, he tapped the clipboard, then laid both on the table.
“No thanks.” The act of defying the most formidable man in Metaltown filled Colin with a dark, dreadful power. It hummed through his veins like the last moments before a fight.
Jed’s smile faded. “There are consequences to every action.”
Colin rested his knuckles on the table. “Not many people tell you no, do they?”
An image of Gabe Wokowski’s father picking money up off the cluttered floor shot to the forefront of his mind. At the time he hadn’t understood how anyone could turn down so much green. He did now. Everything had a price.
He caught movement behind him out of the corner of his eye. Several people had begun talking all at once. He hadn’t been sure how the others would take his refusal to join, and turned quickly, ready for anything. Before he could make out what was going on, Jed had reached across the table and snagged his forearm. His eyes were beady with anger.
“I’m offering you the Brotherhood’s protection, Colin. You’ll keep your job, and get all the pay you earn. No more stealing pigeons from the corner cart. I’ll make sure your family’s taken care of. All of them.”
Colin felt his confidence waver. “How do I know you’re good for it?”
Jed relaxed his grip. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
Trust. He trusted Ty. He trusted his family. They’d never threaten him if he didn’t do what they wanted. Trusting Jed felt about as solid as trusting Minnick.
But if there was even a chance Jed was telling the truth, he was crazy to turn it down.
“Colin!” Zeke called.
He glanced back, then did a double take. Zeke was hoisting someone up—a girl, limp as a rag doll. Lena, he realized a moment later. Her head hung forward, sweaty strands of hair clinging to her pallid skin. Cold filled Colin’s lungs. He jerked out of Jed’s grasp and lunged toward them, sliding under Lena’s shoulder.
“She’s asking for you,” Zeke said, brows scrunched together. “Who is she?”
Martin and Agnes looked to him with wary curiosity.
Colin tilted Lena’s face up to his. Her eyes were open but her gaze was blank. She blinked.
“Come on,” he said, taking her from Zeke.
“Wait!” Chip succeeded in pushing through the line and ran straight for Colin.
“Get back in line, rat!” belted Minnick. The foreman grabbed the kid by the collar and shoved him into Zeke and Martin. Chip hit the floor with a small cry.
Biting his tongue, Colin readjusted Lena’s arm over his shoulder, and led her to the door. He’d deal with the Brotherhood, and Minnick, later.
“I’ll be by later to settle your family’s debts,” said Jed as Colin passed. He didn’t even glance over. Colin paused, his insides turning to ice.
Zeke, who was next in line, stepped nervously to the front. He glanced up at Colin, apology in his eyes. Zeke had his sister to look out for; what did Colin expect him to do?
What had he expected any of them to do?
* * *
Ten minutes later he’d traded his gloves to Hayak for a mug of water from the rotisserie’s steamer. Lena sat on the curb beside the cart, elbows on her knees. Her quaking hands spilled liquid all down her chin and the front of her sweat-drenched sweater, but she didn’t move to mop it up. When she’d finished gulping it down, she wiped her mouth with Colin’s scarf, and sheepishly passed it back to him.
“What were you thinking?” Colin snapped. “I told you not to come. And when you did, I told you to drink. And when you didn’t, I told you to leave. And you didn’t listen to a damn thing I said, and now look at you.”
She shot up, hands balled into fists. “Thank you for pointing out how stupid I look. As if I couldn’t figure that much out on my own.”
“How stupid you look?” He leaned over her, blood burning. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you? Of course you don’t. This was all some game to you. Play poor for a day. See how bad it is. Then go home to your big house and your rich friends and pretend it never happened.”
“You don’t know me.” Her voice hitched. “You don’t know anything!”
“I know this is my life. I know th
is is all I’ve got.” He spread his hands wide. “I know you don’t belong here.” He jabbed her hard in the shoulder, and she stumbled back into the wall.
“I don’t belong anywhere.” The tears leaked from her eyes, cutting through the thin layer of powder from the factory floor. They stabbed into him, like needle pricks across his chest, but he was rolling downhill, going too fast to stop.
“You don’t belong on the line, that’s for sure. You belong back in that office where you can actually do something, not just make double the work for everyone else.”
She stared at him, lip trembling, then swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. There were holes in the fingers of her gloves from the wiring. She turned fast, hurling herself down Factory Row toward the Stamping Mill.
“Lena, wait.” He ran after her. When he reached for her arm, she jerked away. “Let me at least take you back to Shima’s.”
“I’m not going back to Shima’s.”
He groaned. He had to get home. He had to be there before Jed came by. What he would say to him then, he had no idea, but he wasn’t about to leave his family undefended.
“Then we’ll go in the Stamping Mill. The foreman can call your parents.”
She walked faster.
“Lena.” He took off his hat and twisted it until he heard threads pop. “Come home with me.”
She didn’t stop.
“Come home with me,” he repeated.
“Why? So you don’t have to feel guilty for walking away?” She slowed, but didn’t stop. “Here. I’ll let you off the hook. I’ll be fine on my own, Colin. You’re not responsible for me.”
But he was. He’d brought her here, hadn’t he? He grabbed her arm and yanked her to a stop, not letting go when she tried to pull away.
“Are you always this big a pain in the ass?”
She turned her nose up. “Yes.”
He sighed. He knew he had to tell her something, but didn’t know where to start.
“That man who came to Small Parts? His name is Jed Schultz. I pissed him off back there, and after he’s done at Small Parts, he’s going to come to my house and collect on some bad debts. I need to be there when he does.”
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