by Brindi Quinn
The flickering lamppost was deceiving. When I passed through it, my mark flicked from red to blue, though there was no robotic voice to accompany the change. It was here that I finally let my legs rest. Crash knew where I was, undoubtedly, but at least I’d have time to prepare if he showed up.
“We rest for one hour,” Theo stated. “After that, we’ll find a waterwheel.” He scratched the back of his hair embarrassedly. “Obviously you can’t come, Chlo.”
Kipper rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”
The inside of the waystation was dimlit by collections of lights hanging from the ceiling. There was no bouncer to welcome us this time – just a scanner, alerting me that I hadn’t earned many SPs since my last check-in. For the most part, the place was deserted. One small row of vendors lined the back wall, over which a plank of wood hung, engraved: ‘Follow your dreams.’
“Pff.”
The main area held a scattering of wooden tables with benches. A small room to the side housed a few sleep pods, the casings of which were marked with fingerprints and grime. An adjoined room held water access.
A ‘sorry excuse for a waystation’ is what Theo had called it. Seemed accurate.
While Theo went to find a helping of dandriel, I washed up quickly before returning to the main room, vision locked on the entrance, waiting for an icy-eyed stare to enter at any moment.
Kipper didn’t bother with washing up; and because he saw it fit to relieve himself in the open whenever the need arose, he didn’t bother with the toilets, either. He, too, went bartering for dandriel. Chloe wasn’t particular to the drug, so she busied herself with the vendors, even stopping to look through the list of available gambits, though it seemed pointless, given that she’d just spent an extended period of amicable time with her mark.
It was unnatural.
And it made me curious.
So I approached, just as she was in the middle of ordering a meat-filled pocket of bread that had a peculiar, gamey smell. My mouth simpered upon finding that the food offerings given to the Markers were no better than ours.
“Is this how most of the waystations are?” I asked.
The pretty Marker jumped at the sound of my voice. A surprise attack, just as I’d intended. Relentless, I continued, “Are most of them like this? Is Zelpha an anomaly?”
“O-oh. Well, they’re all a little different, from what I’ve seen,” she said, catching her breath. She looked beyond me, at Theo, who was rubbing his nose furiously. I groaned in detest. He was a moron. Whatever inebriating thing he’d just done, he had better be over it within an hour or so help me.
Dagger-eyed, I shook my head at him and then returned to Chloe: “What is Western City like?”
She jumped at this question, too, but in a different way. “I’m . . .” She looked at the ground. “We can’t answer things like that,” she said slowly.
They couldn’t? Fine. Then I’d move on while I had the chance. This time, I went for a bigger punch: “You don’t want to kill Theodorius, do you?” I wasn’t asking so much as stating.
Chloe put up her hands in defense. “Of course I do! More than anything!” Her eyes were big, insistent and nervous.
I studied her. “You get along with him.”
Again, she looked to the ground for solace, and again I was relentless.
“Why do you want to kill him?” I asked.
“That’s . . .”
But she wasn’t able to finish – not that it mattered, as any answer would have been a lie anyway – for suddenly, the person we had just been discussing was in my ear, firing off a fevered warning: “We need to leave NOW, Zillow. I’m not kidding.” In addition, his whole body was shaking from whatever stupidity he’d just done in the corner.
Served him right.
I was about to ask why we needed to leave, when I saw the answer for myself. Standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, was the thing I loathed more than anything. At the sight of him, my body locked up. I turned from person to mech. My joints could not bend. I hadn’t had time to prepare.
Crash.
I rapidly began to rationalize the situation.
Somehow, he’d managed to stay close enough since I’d last seen him to catch up to us here, and he wasn’t alone. A second Marker, also adorned in black jumpsuit, was beside Crash. This one had the sides of his head shaved and a small strip of hair right down the middle. He was short and thick and he pointed at our group without discretion.
Blood flushed to my cheeks. I tried to suppress it, but it came on strongly and wouldn’t subside. My face was hot, my neck too, as I locked eyes on the filth pursuing me. Instinctive, my fingers twitched around the handle of my katar. Crash’s gaze was as electric as ever; his hair as scarlet; his mouth as mocking.
“Damn,” I uttered
“Right?!” Theo was still in my ear. His pupils were larger than normal, his eyes glossy. Kipper was nowhere to be seen. Chloe, meanwhile, was frowning and looking about, apprehending the situation.
“That’s Zillow’s Marker,” Theo explained, “and he’s hella . . .”
“Dangerous,” Chloe finished.
“You know him?” I asked.
She shook her head.
Theo tugged at my sleeve. “What should we do?”
“He’s already seen me. If we try to slip away now, he’ll only follow. I have no choice but to fight him.” My fingers clenched around the cool bar of my weapon’s hilt. My heart pounded at the touch.
It ends today.
But before I could get too riled, Chloe stepped between Crash and us. “When was the last time you slept?” Her pretty face was furrowed in concern.
I studied her warily. Why should she care when the last time I slept was?
“We slept on the way to the pit,” Theo said. “Only for a couple of hours, though.”
“You shouldn’t fight him yet, prag Zillow. Use whatever time you have to rest up. Eat something. There’s a pill in that machine over there called ENER-EX. It can make up for lost sleep.”
“Oh yeah,” Theo agreed. “One of them suckers’ll shoot you full of adrenaline!”
I took their advice, shuffling over to purchase an ENER-EX, all the while feeling the stare of my Marker piercing into the back of my neck. I hated the self-conscious feeling that came along with it. No sooner had I swallowed the ENER-EX, than he made his way for me in stalking, hunched strides.
Apparently Theo harbored no ill feelings that I hadn’t killed Chloe for him, because he stepped between my Marker and me as ferociously as he had at the sunken plant. “Long time no see, buddy.”
This confrontation was a moment of truth. I couldn’t afford to look weak in front of Crash. I stepped around Theo and locked eyes with the one pursuing me. The low-lit room seemed to slow. My pulse gave a kick in my neck.
Welcome to Paradise, Zillow Stone.
Ever, the remnants of the dream plagued me.
“Let’s go,” I said, careful to keep my voice steady. It was important I not show weakness.
I wasn’t convincing enough. The side of Crash’s mouth curled upwards.
From behind, Chloe gave a sound of disapproval. This caught my Marker’s attention and his eyes flicked to her. Soon after, they shifted to Theo. “You two,” he said, attention returned to Chloe. “Is he yours?”
The question turned Chloe territorial. She nodded and the tail of hair danced.
“I see. And do you–”
Whatever Crash was about to ask, he was unable to, for at that very moment, the dim chandelier at the center of the room flared to an alarming level of brightness. The burst of light was sudden and intense, and as I moved to shield my eyes from blinding, a hand slipped around my waist.
For a moment, I wondered if Kipper had somehow caused the blast. Perhaps he’d seen what was happening and was allowing us a moment of distraction to escape. Perhaps Theo was the one who had grabbed my waist, and perhaps I wouldn’t have to fight my Marker on an empty stomach, after all.
&
nbsp; I was wrong. Kipper was nowhere to be found. The hand around my waist wasn’t Theo’s. And the blast had been caused by a figure in a fitted bodysuit and shiny black helmet. The bodysuit was black to match, with vibrant pink and green stripes up the sides. The figure to which it belonged was pointing a small remote at the chandelier, which was slowly dimming to its original brightness. The helmet was equipped with some sort of built-in voice amplification system, for very soon, a woman’s voice blasted out of it, filling the room with the following decree:
“THEODORIUS BIGGSBURG AND CHLOE LOCK. YOU ARE HEREBY UNDER ARREST FOR VIOLATION OF THE MARKING. DO NOT ATTEMPT RESISTANCE. THOSE WHO RESIST WILL BE TREATED WITHOUT MERCY. ANY KNOWN COMPANIONS STEP FORWARD FOR INTERROGATION.”
Something about the woman’s voice clicked in my mind, but I wasn’t able to think into it further. A scuffling of combat-booted feet filled the area as half a dozen people in similar black bodysuits and helmets, though lacking the stripes, overtook Chloe and Theo.
The hand around my waist was Crash’s. And when I realized it, a pang of anger traveled up my chest. How dare he touch me?! I pushed it away furiously and started for Theo’s aid, but Crash caught me again, this time with more force. As I attempted to hurl him away, he spoke something rapidly into my ear, but the sound of my heartbeat was as loud as the booming of Zelpha, and it drowned out whatever he was saying.
Theo was standing in front of Chloe, hunting knives drawn, ready to defend her like a knight. Meanwhile, Chloe was pushing at his arms, pleading with him to stop, her pretty face distorted in angst.
They didn’t look like a prag and Marker; they looked like equals, friends, even lovers.
Their relationship wasn’t natural, and it was about to cost them their lives. Of all the things I expected to encounter in the outlands, this was the last.
“THEO! DON’T!” I shouted.
His eyes shot in my direction. Deep and large, like two earthy pools, they bored into me. “GET OUT OF HERE, DUMBASS!” he yelled.
Like hell.
I rammed my elbow into my captor’s stomach, but his hold remained tight. He was dragging me, saying something about getting out of there before it was ‘too late.’ Too late or not, it was now or never when it came to helping Theo.
The scruffy boy let out a warrior’s cry as the crowd of soldiers overtook him.
“NO!” Chloe’s shriek was louder and higher than mine, though they were belted in unison. Mine was a cry of frustration, hers a cry of anguish.
Theo was a fool.
But he was my comrade.
I scanned the room, searching for anything in the way of aid, and at last caught wind of Kipper. The thin boy was standing calmly in a corner near the front entrance with his arms folded. I caught his eye only briefly before something hit me hard at the back of the head and everything went black.
Chapter 10: Caught
Welcome to Paradise, Zillow Stone.
I was standing on a roof of bright orange shingles, atop a cottage built into the side of a grassy valley. Wind tossed the valley’s grass back and forth playfully. So too, it tossed my hair into my face. On the horizon, a large creature swam through the air, soaring over a distant cheering crowd.
“It’s that whale again.” I brushed my hair away for a better view.
“No, kitten. It is a blimp,” someone behind me replied. I spun to face him, but couldn’t make out his features through the mess of my own hair blowing in my face.
I reached out my hand and felt his hair – hot, like fire. I trailed my fingers over his face, coming to rest them on his eyelids. The eyes behind were chilled, like ice.
I withdrew my hand and pushed the hair from my face.
Crash was standing with his hands in his pockets, head tilted to the side, and grinning. He wasn’t wearing his regular getup; rather, he sported a pair of loose pants that were rolled up at the ankles and a vibrant aqua shirt with buttons down the front – one that made his eyes look even bluer than usual, to a haunting extent.
At the sight of him, I reached for my katar, but found a yellow parasol in its place. I threw the useless thing to the ground and looked about for a blade, expecting one to be lying amidst the shingles.
Crash continued to grin at me while I searched.
“You won’t find one,” he said, amused. “There’s no need for things like that in Paradise. And besides–” He took my wrist in his hand. “Wouldn’t you rather do this?” He drew his face very close to mine, so that our noses were almost touching. I felt his breath against my lips as he exhaled. I felt the cold of his icy stare as it drilled into me. Then, without warning, he wrapped both arms around my middle and hurled us from the roof.
Though we fell, we didn’t hit the grass. We simply continue to fall, straight downwards, feet to the sky and faces inches apart, as the world around us melted into a blaze of color. Faster and faster we fell. Faster and faster and–
I bolted up. My chest and veins were racing. My blood was pumping. Though I’d just come out of sleep, I felt as though I’d been running.
It was false adrenaline. The ENER-EX was in my system and the effects of it were at peak. I couldn’t have been out for long.
I used the stolen energy to jump to my feet. I was within a structure – something metallic, and with spots of night sky showing through the top. And I wasn’t alone. Even in the dark, those eyes cut through. Was it possible they were glowing? Or just reflecting some small piece of light.
I felt around for my katar, but both weapon and pack were gone, stolen by him. I was defenseless.
Why, then, was I still alive? I’d been knocked out and dragged from the waystation, yet my Marker hadn’t killed me. Why?
Easy, because he wanted to play with me first.
I let a growl out through my teeth.
I would beat him, even unarmed.
“Zillow Stone.” His voice was cool and calculating.
“My Mar–” I remembered what he’d ordered of me, and corrected myself: “Crash.”
“Come.”
Beside him was an opening to the outside – a tear in the metal wall. He stepped through it, beckoning me to follow with a flick of his hand. I moved after him through the opening and into the night.
The air outside was dead – still as still could be and warm. I saw now that the structure we’d been in was a silo, tipped sideways due to ground erosion.
It was only slightly brighter out here. There was no moon, but blots of star hid behind the haze of the sky, allowing enough light to make the area visible. Coated in thick, patchy weed, the ground here was rougher than the wasteland I’d previously trodden. The remnants of a metal fence poked about from the ground, like rutty claws, in a half-circle around us.
Waystation Ollopto was nowhere in sight. Neither was my partner.
Theo!
I couldn’t help but worry about him. I couldn’t help but wonder about the woman in the helmet and her pack of soldiers. But those feelings were clouded by something much stronger: RAGE.
Crash had apprehended me from that place against my will. He had knocked me out and detained me. If he hadn’t interfered, I could have gone to Theo’s aid. Together, we could have fended off those soldiers and fled from the waystation.
Now, who knew what fate my foolhardy partner may have.
Crash’s eyes glinted in the dark. They caught me, almost magnetically, and tried to hold me in place.
But I pulled away to do a second scan of the area. I was already formulating my next move. My pack was nowhere in sight; neither was my weapon. Running away without them would be senseless, especially when I had no idea where I was.
Besides, the energy in my veins was thumping, bidding me to do one thing and one thing alone: fight.
I would use this area to my advantage.
As if reading my thoughts, my Marker caught my stare again and he nodded. I read the nod, though I’d never seen it before. It was an invitation, a challenge.
I nodded back.
> And then I ran at him.
But I didn’t run to him. Instead, I slipped around his side, focusing on one of the jagged fence posts jutting from the ground. I pulled on a loose-looking one and uprooted it from the ground. A heaving of dirt came up with it, flinging into the air and peppering the ground around us.
Crash didn’t falter. He darted at me, dodged my swing, and grabbed onto the end of the post, exposing his left side to me. That was a mistake. I used my upper strength to yank him further to the side, via the pole in his hand, releasing it just in time to make him stumble forward. Then, I rammed my full force into his ribcage, finishing what his momentum had started and knocking him to the ground.
YES! You have him! Now focus, Zillow Stone!
In a zip of speed, I hopped over him. I straddled his arms to the ground with my knees – the same way he had previously done to me. The tables were turned. Triumph overtook me as I regained control of the pole and held it to his adam’s apple. So quickly he’d–
“UMPH!”
With a burst of power, Crash threw me from himself as easily as if I were a blanket. I hit the ground hard, while he pounced to his feet and began brushing himself off, smirking in a sickeningly victorious way.
I scrambled to my feet.
In the aftermath, we were at a standstill, mere strides apart, each crouched in readiness. Each prepared to lunge.
I was strong, but so was he.
I would try a different approach. This time when I came at him, I distracted him with a faux punch to the face, at the same time lifting my knee high into his groin. He anticipated the attack, nevertheless, caught my wrist in his hand, and blocked my knee with his. The crack of bone on bone reverberated through my leg.