Ghosts of Koa, The First Book of Ezekiel

by Colby R Rice

  "Where are we going?" Manja asked.

  "To get money."

  "How?"

  "Not sure." Zeika chambered a round and checked the safety before stashing it back into her robes. "I don't really have a plan yet."

  "It's okay," Manja said. Her voice was stronger now. More alive. "I do." She pointed at the far end of the cellar, and Zeika turned to see Margaret, Manja's flower-covered toolbox, standing open and ready.

  *****

  Zeika had picked the alley they were waiting in, and it was perfect. There was a great hiding spot behind a dumpster for her, and a nice fire escape for Manja so that she could get a bird's eye view of the street. The alley bled into John's Street in the Paj district of the Fifth Demesne. It was a street that was paved with colored cobbled stones, and bookended by open market squares. When the markets were closed, though, John's Street was commonly used by commuting Azures as a short-cut back to the Converge.

  Paj itself had been a small, hippy neighborhood, as hippy as poor folks could get, where wares were made and sold right on the sidewalks. Sun-drenched, warm, popping with the colors of summer. There were also tons of twists and turns, that had transformed Paj into a wonderful maze full of secrets, like the streets of old Venice before the Collapse. Lots of people, including ghosts like her and Manja and Johnny used to hang out there after school or work. It'd been the only place they could "hang their hoods", as the locals would say, and remove their ghost's garb to wear regular clothes for a change. They could always be real kids in Paj.

  That was until Lot 41 of Paj, one of the nine lots hit on Koa's raiding day, had been slaughtered down to the last child. Now the whole neighborhood was practically abandoned, more a way station for passing travelers than anything else.

  "Psst!"

  There was Manja's alarm. Zeika poked her head out of the alley just enough so that she could look far down the street. A car was gunning down the narrow lane, about to pass by their alley. It was a super vintage 2014 Cadillac Escalade ESV, the pimp daddy of all luxury trucks. Shiny and metallic-blue. An Azure boy toy for sure. Manja barely made a noise as she climbed down the fire escape and landed next to her. The girl hit the ground just in time to watch the Escalade zoom by, raising up dust in a mini windstorm.

  "Oh, isn't it beautiful?" Manja sighed, lovesick.

  Zeika gazed at it and smiled. A terrible screech tore through the morning air as the Escalade's back wheels suddenly gave out from under the car, flying in different directions. Metal crunched as the bumper slammed into the stones, driving spiderwebs into the back windshield. The driver swerved wildly and stomped the brakes, sending the car into a fishtail, sparks bursting into the air. He slid to a stop at the mouth of John's Street, the back of the car letting out into the empty market. He was only thirty feet away from their hiding spot in the alley. Just as they'd planned.

  A few seconds later, the Azure stumbled out of the truck, dazed. When he finally collected himself, he staggered towards the back to assess the damage-- and he collapsed onto his knees, letting out a long mournful wail, crying out to the auto gods.

  "Aw poor baby." Zeika snickered, watching the tantrum unfold. "Did I break your toy?"

  She turned to Manja. "Time to work your magic, kid."

  "Did you have to do that one?!" Manja huffed, picking up her toolbox. "It was so pretty!"

  "Come on, Manja, it's just a car--"

  "It's not just a car! It's love at first sight!"

  "Okay. You need to get into character asap, or I swear on everything that's holy..."

  Manja grinned at her. Then she put on the puppy face before she skipped over to the car with a prescribed innocence. Zeika watched her, and she slipped her hand into her robes to grip the Beretta. She was just in ear shot when she heard Manja start in.

  "Gee, mister, that looks awful bad. Need some help?"

  Even from his kneel on the ground, the Azure looked down on Manja and actually frowned. He was examining her, the dirt on her hands, the scuffed edges of her shoes, the wrinkles in her clothes. But what seemed to deepen the frown even more was the wolf-insignia embroidered on the shoulder of her robes.

  "Not a chance, squirt." His eyes flickered as his tone rang cold in the air. "You can't do anything anyway. Buzz off."

  "But my sister's a mechanic. She can help. And she's fast."

  The Azure grumbled to himself and whipped out his wrist, looking at his unnecessarily chunky watch. "How fast? I got stuff to do."

  "Twenty minutes, sir. I promise! The damage isn't as bad as you think it is!" And Manja flashed her signature smile, which raised the dimples on her cheeks.

  He looked at her, and then at her teddybear fannypack and knapsack, and Zeika could actually see him roll his eyes. Okay, maybe they had done the cuteness overkill, but hell, whatever worked-- and it did. His stern gaze lingered on her smile for a few more moments before he sighed, defeated.

  "Fine, go get her. But hurry up, I don't have all day."

  Manja ran back and rounded the corner of the alley, where she grabbed Zeika's hand and "dragged" her out into John's Street. For a few seconds, they talked in low voices. Zeika put her hands on her hips, and Manja gesticulated wildly as the Azure watched from far away. It looked like Manja was trying to convince her to come out and help. In truth, though, they were really just talking about what flavor syrup she wanted with her pancakes when this was over.

  When the act was done and they met the Azure at the wreck, Zeika did a once over, getting a really good look at him since he'd first broken down. He had blonde silky locks, definitely deep-conditioned. Under the huge brown eyes hung a cleft chin, which in turn, sat on a prime-cut beefy neck. He was built like a linebacker, and his huge ham-hock hands looked like they pounded lunch money out of fat kids on a daily basis. He was wearing one of those super vintage college jackets, complete with the blocky letters and everything. The Cabana Cobras, an Azure college football team from the Twentieth Demesne. Oh lord.

  Zeika flattened the smirk that threatened her composure. "What's the trouble?"

  "Well, what the hell do you think, kid?" The Azure frowned and pointed at the back of his car. "Hello? My ride's totaled. She told me you could fix it."

  "Well isn't that a sad story? Tell it walkin', bub!"

  "Oh come on!" Manja snapped, pulling at Zeika's robes. "Sorry Mister, she just woke up."

  "Okay, okay, whaddya need?" Zeika sighed. "I'm a busy chick." She knelt and opened Manja's toolbox.

  He looked at the pink toolbox and raised his eyebrow. "Oh my God. Seriously?"

  "Seriously, whaddya mean seriously? What's that? Do I look like a joka to you, honey?"

  He huffed and pulled out his cellphone. "What a circus. Forget it, kid. I'm calling the tow guy. Not sure why I didn't earlier--"

  "Peh! Yeah, give it a shot, but the tow guy's not coming for you. Not out here."

  "That's what you say." The Azure frowned at her. "Now shove off. Take your pink lunchbox and skip on back to your dumpster, or wherever you just came from." The faint ring of the phone filtered out of the earpiece as it connected.

  She shook her head. "I just told you, they ain't comin' to Paj, Mister. You're not even supposed to be driving over here. Or did you not notice the Ninkashi nest at the intersection a mile back?"

  It's true that no one was supposed to be over here. The quarantine protocol was clear, and it was one of the few rules that went for both Azures and Civilians. There was no Ninkashi nest a mile back, though, far as Zeika knew. But he didn't know that. That much was clear by the way his face paled.

  "Nest?" His phone was still ringing, but he was looking dead at her, his eyes going wide.

  She shrugged. "Yeah, but you seem like a big boy. Even if the Ninkashi do catch you out here, broken down, no protection, I'm sure you can handle them!" She eyed his blue-and-silver lettered college jacket and grinned. "You know, go Cobras!"

  A muffled voice began to speak through the phone. "
Good morning! You've reached Bag 'em Drag 'em Tow, this is Leila, how can I help you?"

  "Yeah, I'm over by the Paj district in the Fifth Demesne," the jock started slowly, wincing even as he said it. "John's Street. I need a tow."

  A pause. And then-- "I'm sorry, sir, but we no longer service Paj due to quarantine protocol. But I can call the local police station, if you like--"

  "--and get you arrested for breaking the law!" Zeika imitated Leila's chipper voice as she finished her sentence for her. "Maybe even interrogated as a suspected smuggler, teehee!"

  The Azure killed the call. "Look, hey... I didn't really know, you know? I was just passing through!"

  "Hey, don't explain it to me. Explain it to the cops when they get here. They'll be making their daily rounds soon." She began to pack up the toolbox. Manja began to help her. "I could have you on your way before they got here, but I think I'll just take your advice and skip on back to my dumpster--"

  "Okay, wait, wait. Let's not be hasty." He was visibly shaken now, a high-red on his cheeks. "I need your help to get out of here. Like asap. I can pay cash. How much is this gonna cost me?"

  She surveyed the damage and shrugged. "783 dollars and 91 cents. Plus tax. Azure dollars."

  "THAT'S CRAZY!"

  "Look, you gotta real buster-upper here. Lug nuts, hub caps, and axle's all probably made a break for it, back windshield's smashed up, and your bumper just dry-humped the asphalt for about twenty feet." She crossed her arms. "Do you even know where your two back tires are?"

  The Azure pouted and looked around the open square. At least one tire was laying in the market. The other, who the hell knew.

  "You're looking at replacement parts plus labor," she continued. "And you said you had somewhere to be in an hour, so that's an extra 35% for expedited service. It's just what you would have paid at a local mechanic except you don't have to push your car the extra twenty miles on its knees. But it's your choice of course... we all need a little exercise." She looked across the square and down the connecting road, far down it, to emphasize her point.

  "All right, jeez! Fine! You sure know how to paint a picture, kid."

  "Like DaVinci, honey."

  "I'll give you half up front. Half when I've seen you've done your job right." And just like that, the Azure slapped 400 blue bucks into her hand. "Thirty minutes, or I'm taking my cash back and pounding you into a grease stain." He glared at her and picked up his phone and dialed another number.

  "Sure, buddy."

  She handed the money to Manja, and the girl counted it before shoving it into her Butch Bear knapsack. As Zeika cranked the car up on the jack, Manja dove back into the toolbox. 400 Azure bucks, just like that. Manja was a genius. If they played their cards right, picked the right intersections and the right Azures, maybe they could get some steady business out of it. Maybe they'd even get enough to smuggle themselves to the Island and find their parents.

  "Yeah, totally, bro!" The jock was laughing into the phone, leaning on the hood of his car. "Totally hit that last night. But my ride got tanked on my way back over. Sucks." He guffawed again. "Nah it's cool. I'm-- oh, come on, garçon! Gimme a break!"

  Zeika rolled her eyes and continued to jack up the car. Sounded like a typical Azure douche-bag, but without the class. Or the smarts. God only knew why he felt he should carry thousands of dollars on him with Koa and those monsters on the loose. Then again, "intellect" wasn't quite the quality of import over in his Demesne, she'd heard. Guild Twenty mainly taught aspiring Azure Alchemists how to direct and focus their energy. Which made sense for this guy. He looked like he'd rhino-rammed more than his fair share of people, chicks included. But what was he doing all the way over here? The Twentieth Demesne was on the west coast. Had the war really reached that far, pushing western Azures towards the Protecteds?

  There was no way to know for sure, and the answer wasn't going to help her get this truck running, so Zeika put her goggles on and crawled under the lifted car to assess the damage. Twisted metal, splattered oil, and the car's tortured underbelly scowled back at her. Crap. Maybe she had gone a little too far. She looked at Manja, eyes wide.

  "S'okay," the girl whispered. "I know what to do." She ran off to get the tire.

  "Hey, you'd better not be playing me, brats." The jock announced from the front of the car. "Twenty-eight minutes!" Then she heard him turn back to his conversation.

  Zeika grabbed the Philips-head screwdriver as Manja rolled the tire over.

  "Not that one," Manja hissed. "That one!" She snatched the screwdriver and handed her the cross wrench instead. "You can build guns, but you can't fix a tire? C'mon!" She crouched down next to her.

  "Well aren't we smart-mouthed today?"

  "Well don't be an idiot, and I'll only have to be smart in my brain!"

  Zeika snorted and was about to shoot back, when the sound of screeching rubber cut her off. She lifted her goggles and peered around the truck to see three cars pulling up at the opposite end of John Street. Mounted lights inside the cars blinked rhythmically, filling the street with blue and white ghosts. She felt all her insides clench. It was the Azure police. In unmarked cars.

  "Zeeky?" Manja lifted her own goggles and tried to poke her head out. "What's--"

  Zeika pressed a hand over Manja's mouth, and as quietly as she could, she dragged them both back under the truck, as far towards the hood as possible.

  "Holy shit, the five-o's here. Gotta call you back, bro."

  "You!" The voice of an AP boomed through John Street. "Hands in the air!"

  "Okay, okay, man! I'm grabbin' wind, see?"

  Zeika and Manja laid as still as they could, their faces only a few feet from the jock's sneakers. Black protective boots stampeded towards the truck, surrounding the sneakers in seconds. A flurry of questions were being thrown at him. What are you doing here? Are you Azure or Civilian? What's your name? Where's your identification? The questions went on and on, the jock answering them all until a sudden hush fell over the group. The wasp cloud of black heels parted, revealing a pair of newly-polished, Italian-cut monk straps as they strolled over to the group. The gait was so smooth, so sure, so familiar.

  "Name, citizenship, demesne."

  "Archibald Digby. Azure. Demesne 20."

  "And are you a guildsman, Mr. Digby? Are you in training to be an Alchemist?"

  Zeika's throat tightened. She knew that voice. Smooth. Calm. Menacing. Sal Morgan.

  "I am, sir. A Dilettante of Guild 20."

  "Good. All right, Mr. Digby, Dilettante of Guild 20. Do you know what this is?"

  "Uh, yeah," the jock replied, a nervous laugh in his throat. "And if you could not point it at me, that would be pretty awesome."

  "Tell me what it is. What it says on the side of it."

  "You serious, bro?"

  Zeika stiffened at the slow and sudden sound of metal locking into place. It was the sound of a gun hammer being thumbed back. She knew it like a mother knew the coos of her own kid.

  "What do you think?" Sal's voice was low, but the threat was clear.

  "Anon!" The jock blurted. "It says 'Anon', okay? We done with the pop quiz? Get that thing off me!"

  "Have you seen anyone running around here with that namesake? Anon?"

  "No, man. Come on. I don't even know who or what that is!"

  "Even Azures know about the 'Anon cannon', Mr. Digby. And address me as a Dilettante should, if you don't mind. I'm a Silvern."

  "Well then ask some other Azures, Silvern," the jock snapped. "I don't know who or what you're talking about."

  "Are you here with anyone else?"

  Zeika closed her eyes. It was over.

  "No." The jock said. "It's just me here."

  Zeika's breath caught in her throat.

  "Oh really?" Manja's toolbox disappeared as Sal's hand dipped down and picked it up. "This belongs to you?"

  "Yeah!" The jock actually sounded offended this time. "A man c
an't like pink? What's your problem?"

  Sal sighed. "Arrest him. Find out what he knows."

  "Oh, come on! I didn't do anything! I'm one of you guys!"

  The sneakers turned to face Zeika, and she heard a slam as the APs threw him down on the hood of his truck. Metallic clicks, as handcuffs locked around his wrists.

  "We'll let the interrogator decide that, buddy. Let's go."

  The APs lifted the jock off the car and pulled him back down John Street. The jock struggled, his kicks dragging all the way. The Italian monk straps sauntered alongside the struggling sneakers, their stride still smooth.

  "This is bullshit!" The jock bellowed. "Get offa me! You can't do this!"

  CRACK! The sound of the nightstick smashing against his ribs was more than enough to make Zeika's stomach turn. Manja winced, and Zeika gripped her tighter. Seconds later, they heard the APs throwing the jock into the back of a distant police car and slamming the door. The car pulled off just as quickly as it had come, and then the group of fascist footwear made their ways back towards the car.

  Think, Zeika.

  Run into the alley and they'd be spotted. Run into the open square and they'd be spotted. No time. There was no time, and no way to escape.

  "Search the vehicle," Sal's voice rolled off the alley walls. "Then impound it."

  No!

  The police boots dispersed. A couple of pairs detoured, aiming to walk around to the back of the car, and on Manja's side, a knee was coming down onto the ground. Zeika balled her fist, ready to use her powers and make a break for it-- when the sound of very distant scuffling resounded through the square. At once the knee, the boots, everything froze-- her and Manja too-- as everyone seemed to take a second to process the sounds. She couldn't be sure... but it sounded like someone was making a break for it.

  "There!" One of the APs shouted. "Hey! Stop right there!"

  She was right. Someone was running. The APs broke formation and dashed off further into the large square, pursuing the distant runner. The Italian monk straps walked behind. When all the shoes were gone, Zeika pivoted towards the back of the raised truck and dragged herself forward so that she could see out.