A Girl Called Fearless

by Catherine Linka

  “You got a phone on you?” she asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Get it out. I need to adjust the settings for the altitude.”

  I’d never heard of that, but I’d never ridden in a small plane, either.

  “Good.” She jerked the window open and pitched my phone right out. The window slammed shut, smacking Ruby hard.

  “What the hell are you doing! That was mine!”

  She rubbed her arm. “Damn. That hurt.”

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “Listen, missy, I’m cutting the trail you left. Making sure your daddy doesn’t track you right to that signal.”

  “That phone wasn’t registered to me. My friend got it.”

  “So nobody knew you had it. Never saw it even once?”

  I didn’t answer her. Roik knew.

  “I see. Then you’re better off dumping it in the desert. It won’t stop the Retrievers, but it’ll slow ’em down a bit.”

  Now Yates had no way to reach me!

  The seatbelt felt like a straitjacket. Here I was, trapped with a crazy lady pilot, going who the hell knows where, no clue if I could trust her.

  And, on top of that, she threw out all the photos I’d transferred to the phone. Gone! My pictures of Mom and Dad. Yates. Dayla. Ms. A. Not to mention the songs Yates had sent me. Things I’d counted on to keep me sane while we were apart. Dumped in the freaking desert.

  I hit the door with my fist, and Ruby smacked my shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

  Ruby looked like she’d wrestle me out of the seat if I tried anything, but I still glared back at her. “Nobody told me you’d toss my phone.”

  “Stop your whining. That boy’ll walk through fire to see you again. You’ve got his code and you’ll get a new phone in no time. Right now you’re free from whoever you’re running from. So shape up.”

  My cheeks flared in the dark. “Sorry.”

  Ruby ignored me.

  The plane crossed a double line of headlights and taillights that went on for miles. The landscape was black except for one or two white-haloed gas stations beside the road. It seemed as if we might be headed for Nevada.

  The plane hovered over the highway. Ruby flew without saying a word for a half hour, giving me plenty of time to “adjust my attitude” as Ms. A liked to say. Ruby was ticked and that was the last thing I needed.

  “Ah. Thanks for helping me,” I said, breaking the silence.

  “I’m not helping you,” she snapped back. “I’m helping them.” Ruby tapped a photo on the dash. Two girls in wet bathing suits, probably eleven and nine, mugged for the camera.

  “Your granddaughters?”

  “Yep. My grandbabies.”

  “But aren’t you taking a pretty big risk, helping me?” Ruby could go to jail if she got caught. Who’d take care of her girls?

  “Maybe. But I couldn’t sleep at night, knowing I stood by while my country went to hell. I don’t know what’s gotten into men these days. At first, I thought they were being protective, but lately I’ve gotten to wonder if there isn’t something else going on.”

  “Like what?”

  “Don’t know, but it strikes me as suspicious that when I applied for a government contract, I got rejected, but when I put Mr. in front of my name, it went right through.”

  Up ahead, carnival-colored lights fanned out along the road. “What’s that?” I said.

  “That’s Wonderland, Alice. But the locals call it Vegas.”

  The airport was practically on top of the town. The casinos on the Strip glowed like shiny gold, red, and green Christmas presents and the town glittered around them like spilled sequins. But as breathtaking as it was, I saw black hulks of abandoned hotels and neighborhoods where whole blocks looked deserted.

  The control tower came on, and Ruby warned me to stay quiet. The tower guided us in and Ruby set down the plane. I tensed when we hit the runway, wondering how I’d get through the terminal with hundreds of men’s eyes on me.

  “Get your hat back on and your shades,” she said. “And grab that bomber jacket. That’ll give you some heft.”

  She taxied around to a private hangar. “When I open the door, you come down the stairs and walk right to the car that’s waiting. Don’t look at me or say anything. Pretend I’m nothing and get out.”

  A white limo with gold running lights idled by the hangar. I cracked open the door and paused. This could be a trap. Hawkins could afford to deck his Retrievers out in a limo.

  But I’d only been gone a few hours and Dad wouldn’t tell Hawkins until he had to. Roik was probably still driving around, puking his guts out looking for me.

  A guy the size of a sumo wrestler opened the limo door.

  I climbed down, knowing I couldn’t run. Barbed wire circled the airport. I had money, but no phone, and I didn’t know who my contact was.

  Sumo Guy waited for me to get in, so I said a prayer and he started the car.

  The Vegas Strip pulsated with light and music. Huge screens scrolled come-ons. Jade Wants It Bad. See Her Live at Torrent. Sheila in XXXtasy. Onstage at Tropical Fever.

  Thousands of men clogged the sidewalks in front of the casinos. They laughed, and swigged beer, and shoved each other into the street like we’d driven into the middle of one big party. I jumped when a guy shoved his middle finger at me through the tinted window.

  “Don’t get excited,” Sumo Guy said. “He thinks he’s flipping off a high roller.”

  “All right. Thanks,” I answered.

  None of this matched what Father G had told me. Small towns. Back roads. Forgettable houses. He said Exodus stops were places that people would never think to look.

  I wanted to jump out of the car, but I didn’t dare. I didn’t know where Sumo was taking me, but I was sure it wasn’t a safe house.

  The limo inched up the Strip, before it dipped down into an underground parking lot. My whole body tensed. Maybe I should bolt.

  I scanned the backseat while Sumo guy parked the car. I wished I still had Roik’s Taser. The only thing I could possibly use to protect myself was the bottle of scotch in the limo bar. I wrapped my hand around the neck as Sumo opened the door.

  He looked at my raised arm and shook his head like he didn’t get paid enough to put up with girls like me. “Tuck your hair in your jacket,” he said quietly. “And keep your head down. They got security cameras everywhere.” I put the bottle back.

  Sumo led me through the flashing, winking, chinging casino. The noise and spinning, strobing lights hammered me, and the smell of cigarettes and beer and greasy buffet food made me feel sick. The room was a maze of slot machines and poker tables and I was afraid to follow him, but even more afraid to lose him.

  He whipped out a key card for the elevator and pressed a button. The elevator surged to the top floor, not stopping for anything. The door opened, and six huge guys in suits and dark glasses were lined up across from the elevator.

  Retrievers! I threw myself at the elevator buttons, but Sumo splayed his hand over the panel. “Those men have nothing to do with you,” he said. “Besides, the elevator won’t work without a card.”

  53

  Double doors that looked like beaten gold opened into a circular foyer. The room was opulent in ways that said it didn’t have to prove it: a gleaming wood floor, a huge golden bowl spotlit on an ebony table in the center.

  Dance music pounded the air, and blue laser beams flickered through an archway to the right. Sumo led me to a small room off the foyer with creamy red walls the color of tomato soup.

  Vanilla and musk wafted off the woman who came around her desk to greet me. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders and the fabric of her perfectly cut shift was obsidian black and textured like a chipped arrowhead. “I’m Magda,” she said in a cool, professional voice. “You must be Avie.”

  “Yes, I am. Hello.”

  She was probably forty, a Survivor, and I wondered what her story was.

  Magda swept her phone off her
desk, tapped the screen, and I swear she took my picture even though she didn’t actually look at me while she did it. She handed her phone to Sumo guy. “Billy, did you scan her?”

  “No, ma’am. Haven’t had time.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll do it. You can go.”

  Billy retreated behind the closed door, and Magda took a thick, white wand out of her desk. One touch and it buzzed with blue light.

  I took a step back.

  Magda crooked her finger at me. “I promise it doesn’t hurt. If you would push up your sleeves and hold out your arms.”

  “What’s that for?”

  She brought the wand closer. “It’s a locator chip detector.”

  Dusty had a locator chip, I thought, before I remembered Becca got one, too, after her Signing. “I don’t have a chip.”

  “Hmm. That’s exactly what someone else said before we found hers under a tattoo of her husband’s name. She had no idea the artist had thrown in a little extra.”

  I pushed up my sleeves and stole glances at her face.

  Magda ran the light wand up my left arm. “You’re curious.” She tilted her head, studied me. “But not about the wand—you’re wondering why I survived the Scarpanol disaster.”

  The light wand hummed behind my neck then traveled down my other arm. “I don’t meet a lot of Survivors,” I said.

  “I’m an ex-vegan. Living proof that a healthy diet can prolong your life.”

  She passed the wand under my arms, and across my breasts. “Spread your legs, please.”

  “What?”

  “I know, it’s shocking, but you wouldn’t believe the places we’ve found chips.”

  I stood legs wide apart while the wand hummed and crackled around my crotch. Magda switched it off. “Excellent. All clear.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. “I really appreciate you hiding me.”

  She smiled. “It’s what I do.”

  I didn’t get a warm and fuzzy feeling from Magda’s smile. Maybe she was legit, but there were six guys at the door and an elevator that didn’t go down unless I had an access card.

  “I need a phone,” I said. “Mine got lost.” I reached into my pocket. “I’ve got money.”

  “A phone would be a bad idea right now.”

  “But I need one. I can’t—”

  Magda didn’t let me finish. “I understand you’d like to call a friend, but doing that would put you both in danger. We’ll find you a phone, but not tonight. In the meantime, I think we should remove the bracelet, don’t you?”

  “Yes, absolutely. Thank you!”

  She retrieved a small maroon velvet bag from her desk and loosened the braided ties. A tiny gold screwdriver dropped in her hand, and I held out my wrist.

  Magda twirled the screwdriver like she’d done it a hundred times before and slid the bracelet off. I rubbed my skin. Free. Finally.

  The bracelet dangled from her finger. “Do you want to keep this?”

  “No, I never want to see it again.”

  “Then you don’t mind if we donate it to the cause?”

  “Sure. Fine.”

  There was a knock on the door and Sumo stuck his head in. “They’re waiting for you,” he told Magda.

  “I need to attend to my guests,” she said. “Billy will take you Backstage, and you can rest and get something to eat. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  She glided toward the door. “We don’t use our past names here. Let Billy know what you’d like to be called. Oh, and Billy, be sure to incinerate the outfit she’s wearing.”

  Billy and I left Magda’s office. “Why are you going to burn my clothes?” I asked.

  “Because I’m guessing you want to stay gone.”

  Yes, I most definitely wanted to stay gone.

  Billy led me across the foyer away from the pounding dance music. An amp blasted a girl’s voice yelling instructions, and men cheered and booed like two teams were battling it out. I caught a glimpse of a guy jerking and spinning around on top of what I guessed was a mechanical bull.

  “What’s going on in there?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Billy said. He took me over to a door marked PRIVATE and punched in a code.

  Guards, codes, access cards? I planted my feet on the parquet. “The door’s locked.”

  “For your safety.”

  For your safety. Yeah, right. I’d heard that lie about a thousand times. “Why should I believe you?”

  Billy opened the door enough so I could see a long hall with doors on either side like a typical hotel. “What else you gonna do, miss?”

  Stay out here with the party dogs or trust that Billy wasn’t locking me up. Not a lot of choices for a girl on the run. I decided to trust Billy. For now.

  The steel door shut behind us, squeezing out the party sounds like we’d just passed through an airlock. Creamy scents of shampoo and body lotion wafted in the air and the lighting and carpet were rosy and soft.

  My legs went wobbly as I flashed back to Dr. Prandip’s serenely lavender waiting room and Sergio’s ice-cream-colored underwear boutique. Places designed to make girls relax and feel safe while exploiting the hell out of them.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me the code?” I said.

  Billy started down the hall. “It’s Independence Day:741776. But you don’t need a code to get out. Push the release bar. It’ll open.”

  I tested the bar and felt the lock give. When I looked up, Billy was waiting. So what if he thought I was paranoid. I’d been guarded and gated for the last eight years by people I thought I could trust. I had good reasons not to trust people I didn’t know.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to check.”

  “Suit yourself. As long as you stay this side of that steel door,” he said, “you can pretty much go anywhere on the floor.”

  I scanned the ceiling as I followed him. If there were monitors, they had to be in the sconces, because there wasn’t anyplace else to hide them.

  Billy opened a door and I caught a glimpse of stainless steel. “Kitchen’s here,” he said. “When’s the last time you ate?”

  “Not since lunch.”

  “Dinner’s over, but fridge’s stocked. Help yourself when you’re ready.”

  Billy lumbered on until he got to an exit sign. He stared me down as he pointed at it. “You do not want to use this unless there’s an emergency. You go through here, you’re not getting out for twenty floors. Got it?”

  “Yeah. I got it.”

  “Your room’s over there.”

  I don’t know what I was expecting when he switched on the light. A set of bunk beds and two twins were crammed into the room along with a couple dressers. Clothes hung off the bunks and littered the floor. Looked like I had roommates. Girls who liked sequins. And stilettos.

  What kind of place is this?

  “Bed near the window’s free,” Billy said. “You can put your stuff in that bureau.”

  I shoved my hands in my empty pockets. “I don’t have any stuff.”

  He nodded. “You’re not the first to show up like that. I’ll get you a toothbrush. Be right back.”

  I walked around the room, checking out the closet and the bathroom. The bed that Billy’d said was mine had a puffy white comforter and somebody’d changed the sheets. One of my roommates had written her name on the big bottle of expensive shampoo on the bureau. Splendor.

  I angled the picture on the bureau so I could see it: a black girl with her arms around two younger girls who looked like they could be her sisters.

  A photo from home. A big bottle of shampoo. It didn’t seem as if this runaway was passing through. Splendor lived here.

  My arms prickled. This place isn’t what I expected at all. Father G had said I was going to stay in people’s houses, and all these rebel grannies and their sons would sneak me from town to town, zigzagging me to the border.

  I sat down hard on the corner of the bed. This had to be some kind of mistake.

&n
bsp; Billy walked in with pajamas, a toiletry kit, and a plastic bag with a red biohazard symbol. “Put your old clothes in the bag and hang it on your door. I’ll see they’re destroyed.”

  “Okay.”

  “You decide what you want to be called?” he said.

  The name popped right out of me. “Juliet. Everybody can call me Juliet.”

  “Well, Juliet, I got to go back to work. See you tomorrow.”

  He closed the door and I counted to twenty before I got up and tried it. It was unlocked. Strange.

  I wasn’t locked in, chained up, or chipped. I was free, but all I had right now was a toiletry kit, pajamas, and a wad of money in my pocket. I felt for the little silver dolphin dangling from my neck.

  Becca, if you’re up there, could you keep an eye on me—and Yates?

  By now he should be back in L.A., dropping off Dr. Prandip’s car. I prayed that he made it safely, and that the police wouldn’t find the driver who’d chased me through the neighborhood before Yates flattened him.

  The huge window looked up the Vegas Strip. Neon lights pulsed, circled, and soared like comet tails. Life outside was one big insane party.

  Even if I didn’t completely trust this place, I needed to get something to eat, get cleaned up, and sleep. For now I was going to believe this was just my first stop Underground.

  54

  Food was next after my shower. I wrapped my hair in a towel and peeked out into the hall. The biohazard bag I’d left outside was gone.

  Somewhere close by, a girl was crying, big, angry, painful sobs. “It hurts! It hurts!!!”

  My heart skipped a beat. What the—

  I stole down the hall and rested my ear against the door. I couldn’t hear actual words, just a girl whimpering and sobbing while another girl comforted her. They seemed to be alone, so I knocked.

  A girl with big brown doe eyes opened the door. With those eyes and full red lips, she could have been Dayla’s sister. “What do you want?” she said.

  Her blond friend sat on the bed in her underwear, a big piece of white gauze taped to her hip.