Chromeheart

by Alia Hess

  Dusty still looked pallid and sick as she pulled a large, sheathed knife from the waistband of her pants and handed it to Corvin. She bent and whispered in his ear.

  Corvin squeezed the knife sheath. “Thank you, Dusty.”

  When she walked back over, Sasha said, “Why you give him that? Don’t want him to get scared and hurt himself.”

  “There were times when—” She shook her head. “It’ll make him feel better to have it.”

  Corvin wiped his eyes, Dewbell’s arm around him as he clutched the knife in his lap. He took several deep breaths, staring at the floor.

  Gentlewave’s mouth pulled to one side. “I’m sorry we’re in this mess. And I’m sorry, Corvin, that it’s such a big deal for you. But it’ll be okay. The sun will go down in an hour and we’ll move out. We’ll stay ahead of the group to the south, head to the bridge, and cross under. Can everyone stay composed enough for us to sneak by without drawing attention?” He looked pointedly at Corvin.

  Dewbell signed, and Gentlewave sighed and nodded.

  “Be ready to go and do as I say once the sun goes down. I’m going to go outside and keep a lookout—make sure no one heads our way. I’m not having anyone captured or killed on my watch. The rest of you stay in here.” Gentlewave left, shutting the door behind him.

  Sasha crossed the small room and slid into the corner, coating his jeans in brown dust. “Irina, come to me.”

  The drone rose from between his and Dusty’s backpacks and floated past shelves, stopping near Sasha. Dusty sat next to him, then put her head in his lap. He leaned back against the wall, petting her recently-shorn hair. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Through a gap between boxes on the metal shelf, Dewbell could be seen, wiping smeared eyeblack from Corvin’s cheek. He spoke in hushed, stressed tones, and Dewbell nodded in reassurance. She leaned in and kissed his lips softly. Corvin’s eyes grew huge as she pulled back, giving him a small smile. He took Dewbell’s face in his hands and pushed his mouth hard against hers.

  Sasha’s stomach lurched. When he was certain Dewbell wasn’t resisting, he turned away, shifting so he could no longer see through the gap in the shelf. He rubbed Dusty’s head again and swallowed a lump in his throat. “So tell me, what we going to build on Dusty Island, hm? I think I want chertovo koleso.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Is real big wheel, with seats on edges at carnival. You sit, and seats go around the wheel. Sometimes stop at top and you can look out and see everything. All the land. Is very romantic when sun is going down and lights come on.”

  “Mm. Sounds fun. I want a house. With plumbing and electricity. And one of those big white boxes that has food inside.”

  What do the Americans call a fridge? “Um, drip-cooler?”

  “Yeah.” Dusty slid her fingers into a rip in the knee of Sasha’s pants, stroking his skin.

  “Okay, baby. I buy you drip-cooler.” He shut his eyes and rested his head against the wall, trying to avoid thoughts about anything other than Dusty’s dream house.

  17 ~ Bridge ~

  Sasha walked in the twilight beside Dusty and the drone, the river rushing and gurgling below the slope to their left. Corvin and Dewbell navigated the high, weedy embankment with their fingers twined together. They hadn’t stayed in the back room as Gentlewave instructed, and it didn’t take a genius to know why. Despite the nausea that image created, Sasha was relieved that Corvin was better spirited than earlier—the terror in his face replaced with a calm comfort.

  Gentlewave marched ahead, preoccupied with getting them safely past the bridge. Sasha felt like a rather useless escort, depending on the Islander to tell them what to do—but he kept a watchful eye, squinting in the almost-dark, suspicious that any silhouette could be a highwayman. He stopped for a moment, shaking his foot.

  “What are you doing?” Dusty asked.

  “Got hole in my shoe and getting dirt in sock. Too much walking.”

  “You need new ones.”

  “No way. I love this shoes. Been wearing them for like, three years.” He shook his foot again, but the gritty, sweaty sensation in his sock didn’t go away.

  “Maybe Corvin can design you some new ones.”

  Corvin turned his head. “As much as I would love to have this conversation, I’ve got way too much on my mind right now. But remind me about it again later. Sounds fun.”

  “How you doing right now?” Sasha whispered, giving up on dislodging his shoe’s sediment.

  “I’m okay. Sorry about my meltdown earlier. I’m still nervous, but I’m quite sure now that I’m safe with you guys. I’m no longer worried you’re going to give me to the highwaymen.” Corvin kissed Dewbell’s cheek. She flashed him a sweet smile, then looked back and offered one to Sasha and Dusty as well.

  Sasha grinned back despite his reservations. It was good to see Dewbell happy—hopefully she would stay that way.

  “You’re safe. We’ll be fine.” Gentlewave stopped, facing them. “Now, ahead is a stand of trees. We can walk through until we reach the bridge. As long as no one is tromping through the brush or talking loudly, the highwaymen won’t know we’re there. So be quiet, understand? Can everyone do that?”

  “I can.” Sasha pointed at Dewbell. “But I don’t know about her. She is chatterbox all the time. Too loud. Got to be quiet, okay, baby?” He grinned.

  Dewbell covered her mouth with her hands and the group gave an awkward collective chuckle. Gentlewave attempted a smile, but his brows carved deep worry lines in his forehead. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Sasha walked carefully through the weeds as the darkness deepened. He weaved around clusters of tall, moon-kissed poplars, adrenaline’s current running into his limbs. Beyond thin networking branches, a tall stone arch stretched into the star-speckled sky. Toward the east, haphazard white lights glowed at the horizon. The darkness concealed the buildings, or tents, or whatever it was highwaymen lived in—but maybe it was better that way.

  Dusty took his hand. “I don’t like this.”

  “I know, baby. But we are going under bridge, not on top.”

  “Still over water.”

  How is she going to react when we have to take a ship to Nis? Now wasn’t really the time to ask. He squeezed her hand. “Just think about something good. Like my sexy face.” He gave her a nervous grin. “It will be over soon.”

  Her mouth trembled, then pulled into a hard line. She nodded.

  They edged to the treeline, Sasha clutching a branch. The bridge loomed above, crumbled bricks piled at the river’s bank. Water flowed around vegetation-encrusted concrete support beams.

  “Irina: location,” Sasha whispered. The drone materialized momentarily, hovering by his side, then cloaked itself again. Thank God he had the foresight to add some stock targets to its memory bank: highwaymen, trashdogs, Soot slavers… and Mikhail—just in case. During downtime on their journey, he’d taken photos of each of his companions and added them to a “safe” list, so they wouldn’t accidentally be read as targets.

  Gentlewave pointed to the columned arch of the underside. “We can walk along there to get to the other bank. Some of it is a little degraded, but we should be able to navigate around any holes. I went about halfway earlier, and it was just fine. Once we get to the middle, the arch will bring us closer to the top of the bridge, so we need to be really quiet at that point.” He looked at them in turn, then watched the bridge for a moment. “Do you see that?”

  Moonlight outlined the upper railing and flashed off a highwayman’s metal helmet. Sasha gripped Dusty around the shoulders—whether for her comfort or his own, he didn’t know.

  Corvin let out a breath. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Me neither,” Dusty whispered.

  “Of course you can.” Gentlewave leaned close. “Corvin, you’re a survivor. You made it through whatever you had to endure at the hands of these guys when you were a teen, right?”

  Corvin’s face c
ontorted.

  “You didn’t give up. You’re tough. Tougher than many people would be. And Dusty, you’re tough too. I’m sure you’ve been through a lot of things that most couldn’t bear. And you don’t have to swim. All we have to do is walk along that arch to the other side. That’s it. Easy. Corvin, stay near Dewbell if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

  He signed to Dewbell and she gave Corvin a squeeze. Gentlewave turned to Dusty. “You’ve got a good man there. Sasha loves you a lot and I know he would never let anything happen to you.”

  Dusty looked at Sasha, as if for confirmation, and Sasha smiled and took her hand. She gave him a half-smile. I can see why Dewbell leans on Gentlewave for support.

  Gentlewave looked back at the bridge, his hand raised. Once the highwayman at the railing moved from sight, he beckoned them forward. Sasha hurried along the embankment at the party’s rear, heart pounding as he dodged broken bricks and held Dusty’s hand. He slipped between the arch’s plant-wrapped pylons, ducking to keep from hitting his head on the sloped underside.

  The river rushed below as a breath of black abyss. Dusty clamped Sasha’s hand in a vice-grip but didn’t stop moving. The day they met, standing before that other bridge with a shopping cart between them, felt like so long ago. She’d slid her small, soft hand into his, vulnerability betraying her road-worn face, and asked him not to let go.

  She shouldn’t have to feel this way—wandering around afraid. Does she really want to keep being an escort? She wants a house and money, but those things alone aren’t going to make her happy. She’ll still be dissatisfied. Maybe I could— His nerves electrified and stomach twisted more than the idea of having a dinner at Corvin’s house. No. Think about it later. Gotta get across this bridge.

  “Want to learn something else in Russian?”

  “I’m trying to focus on not dying.” Dusty squeezed his hand harder as they trailed behind Corvin and Dewbell.

  “Ya tebya lyublyu.”

  “That means ‘I love you.’” She looked at her boots, treading carefully along.

  “How you know that?”

  “You say it all the time when we’re having sex.”

  “Oh.” He kissed her temple.

  “I love you too. Now let’s get this over with.”

  The archway sloped higher, bringing them closer to the bridge’s middle. Someone coughed from above and Corvin froze.

  “This night watch sucks, Spazz. I know why I’m here, but who did you piss off to be stuck here with me?”

  There was a sigh. “I didn’t do my rounds yesterday. Was off dicking around in the trainyard.”

  Dewbell pulled on Corvin’s arm, but he shook his head vigorously, his quivering hand gripping a pylon.

  “What the hell is on your jacket?” The highwayman sounded quite close, perhaps leaning on the railing.

  “Probably brains. From some guy yesterday. Shot him point blank with a shotgun.”

  Sasha’s stomach clenched. We’re safe. They don’t know we’re here… As long as Corvin doesn’t lose it. He pulled Dusty into his arms, and she buried her face in his chest.

  “That’s fuckin’ gross, man. You should wash that off. Not like it would be hard to do—we’re standing over a river for God’s sake.”

  “What are you, my mom?”

  Corvin put a hand over his mouth but started moving again. Sasha and Dusty followed, hurrying past the arch’s highest point and starting the descent to the far bank. A large gap in the walkway lay ahead, metal beams jutting from the concrete. Ribbons of moonglow danced on the churning water below.

  Dewbell stepped on a precarious eyebeam extending from the hole, holding to a column for support. Rebar snarls dangled from above. She ducked her head beneath them, stepping to the next beam. After crossing the metal supports over the wide gap, she reached solid concrete again. Corvin went next.

  Dusty breathed rapidly, squeezing Sasha’s hand so hard it had gone numb. He leaned to her ear. “Go first, baby. Get to the others. Looks like easy walk after this part.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. You go first.”

  “Don’t want you stuck on this side all alone.”

  “You go. I’ll follow you.”

  Sasha sighed. “I don’t think that is good idea.”

  “Go, Sasha!” Dusty hissed.

  He cringed. “Okay, okay. I will go and then give you my hand to help you across.”

  Dusty nodded.

  Sasha put one foot on a thick metal beam, gripping a column for support. Beyond the hole, his group had slowed, looking back. Gentlewave nodded and signaled them forward. Sasha stepped onto the next girder. It wasn’t very narrow, but the river speeding along below was disconcerting.

  If I slipped, I would go right into the water. But maybe impale myself on rebar first.

  Sasha wiped a sweaty hand on his jeans and grabbed a rusty metal beam, balancing carefully. He took the final step to the other side, then bent over, hands on his knees, and sucked in the cool night air. Dusty clung to a pylon, eyes wide.

  Sasha beckoned. Dusty shook her head. He opened his arms then patted his chest. She took a step forward, tentatively touching the first metal beam with her boot. She grabbed onto a tangle of rusted rebar hanging from the bridge deck and pulled herself onto the beam. As she stepped to the next one, her fear-filled eyes glanced momentarily into Sasha’s. He nodded and smiled, hands outstretched. She reached for him, then stopped. Dusty jerked a little, then twisted to look back.

  “I’m stuck!” she hissed.

  “What you mean?”

  “My backpack!” She tugged at the pack, her shoulder twisted awkwardly, and her foot slipped. Her hands shot out, grabbing a pylon for support. “Sasha! Help me!”

  Sasha reached out, putting his foot on the metal beam. It moaned under their combined weight and several bits of concrete broke loose, tumbling into the river below. He pulled back, heart pounding. “Take off backpack.”

  Dusty struggled, whimpering. “I can’t!”

  Gentlewave stood farther down the arch, peering into Corvin’s face with his hands on his shoulders. Shouting for help would surely alert the highwaymen. Sasha leaned forward for a better view. A large rebar rod was twisted through a loop on Dusty’s pack. With one hand gripping a pylon, he pulled at the strap. Tears streamed down Dusty’s petrified face. He jerked on the strap again. The fabric ripped and the rebar creaked loudly. She flung her arms around Sasha’s neck and he prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that they wouldn’t fall. Arms straining and feet precariously balanced, he gave another tug. The rebar creaked and bent. Dusty’s breath blew hot and ragged in his ear. Sweat fell into his eye and he blinked it away.

  One, two, three—

  He pulled with all his strength and Dusty came free, falling onto him and knocking him onto the concrete. The rebar clanged loudly against the metal beams, then fell through the hole. A sploosh came from below.

  “The fuck was that?” a highwayman uttered.

  Sasha grimaced as Dusty rolled off him and picked herself up. He stood and grabbed her hand, running straight into Gentlewave.

  “What the hell did you do?”

  “Dusty was stuck!”

  “We’ve gotta move. Now.” Gentlewave turned, running down the arch toward the other bank. Sasha pushed Dusty in front and they hurried after him.

  The highwaymen’s voices carried, but the words were indistinct. Would they climb under the bridge to investigate? Or be waiting at the other end? “Irina, standby for target: highwaymen.”

  The drone pulsed once, hovering over the expanse and matching pace with Sasha’s stride. Its guns descended and it disappeared again.

  Dewbell and Corvin clutched each other in the grass at the bridge’s end. Gentlewave pointed his gun into the darkness, aiming at the upper deck. Dusty ran across the last stretch, and Sasha followed her into the grass.

  He strained for sounds other than his rapid heartbeat and the churning river. Footsteps thudded across stone
and a rifle’s orange flash momentarily brightened the face of a highwayman. A bullet whined past Sasha’s head. He grabbed Dusty, shielding her. The drone’s guns whirred as it sped for the bridge. A stream of bullets sprayed toward the highwayman, the sound cracking through the darkness and echoing back. Gentlewave was firing as well as he pushed the group away from the bridge.

  “Run!”

  Sasha ran. The chunk-chunk-chunk of the drone’s barrage continued as he pulled Dusty up the embankment behind Corvin and Dewbell. Gentlewave fired again. After a few minutes, the drone caught up with him, racing along at his side. He slowed and looked back. It was hard to see anything in the darkness other than the bridge’s silhouette and smatterings of poplars, but if the drone was back, that meant the highwaymen were dead.

  “I think we are safe,” he breathed.

  “No. We aren’t.” Gentlewave tugged on Sasha’s sweater. “Those two on the bridge are surely dead, but I guarantee the encampment heard all our gunshots. And your drone doesn’t sound like a rifle. We need to get out of this area.”

  Sasha weaved through the trees, stumbling over rocks and branches. Dusty gripped his hand tightly, panting and looking over her shoulder. Several lights bobbed in the dark distance, but it was hard to know if they were heading in his party’s direction.

  Dusty stopped, panting, and Gentlewave urgently beckoned. Sasha whispered. “I know you are tired, baby. Me too. But we got to keep going.”

  She sucked in a breath and nodded. Shouts drifted on the night air behind them, and renewed adrenaline surged through Sasha. He pulled Dusty along, the lights behind them growing closer.

  Stitches of pain ran along his side and his chest burned. Corvin seemed similarly out of shape, sweat glistening on his brow as he hurried by Dewbell’s side.

  A branch whipped Sasha’s cheek and he tripped on a rock. He caught himself, breathing heavily and wiping dirt and leaves on his pants. Dusty tugged on his sleeve. He picked up the pace, stealing glances behind him.