by Tania Hutley
Skin Hunter
Skin Hunter: Book 1
Tania Hutley
For Mum & Dad.
Thanks for being the best parents ever.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Also by Tania Hutley
1
I’m licking the bottom of my bowl to get every morsel of stew when I notice the couple coming into the shelter.
The shelter’s entrance is packed with grunts escaping the downpour, shaking water out of their clothes and stamping their shoes. The din is loud enough to give a corpse an earache, as Ma likes to say. Not a good night for noticing people, but I’ve been watching the door, looking out for Tori, and the couple stand out like two shiny goldfish swimming into a sewer.
They’re tanned, so they must be from New Triton. And they’re carrying helmets, which means they’re rich enough to have a motorbike, one of those fancy retro ones with no cover. The guy’s coat is long, and it looks like real leather. Expensive. He runs one hand through his hair, slicking it off his face. A gold ring gleams on his finger and my stomach sinks. He’s begging for trouble wearing that in here.
The ends of the girl’s long hair are soaked and dripping, but her woolen coat looks dry, treated with water repellant. Not like my soggy coat, an old one of Ma’s that soaks up more water than it keeps off. Hers is a beautiful blue color, so blue it makes me ache inside. Her skin is smooth and brown, and her features are so perfect, her face must be tweaked, but it’s such a good job I can’t tell which parts have been altered.
The girl is about my age, but nothing like me. She’s my opposite: maiden instead of monster. Just looking at her makes me want to turn my hideous face away, to hide my hollowed-out cheek and scars. Not that she’s looking at me. No, she’s gazing around the huge room, her expression uncertain as she takes in the chaos.
It’s just gone end of shift for most, and the pouring rain means nobody’s game to sleep outside tonight. Food and mattresses are in short supply, and I don’t know what’s worse, the clamor of everyone trying to be heard over everyone else, or the stink of wet clothes and sweat.
Got to be six or seven hundred grunts in here already, jammed into this cavernous, noise-filled concrete room. A lot more will have gone upstairs to the shelter’s other floors, searching for a safe place to sleep in a place where such a thing doesn’t exist. Most are like me, just wanting a meal and a dry bed. But there’ll be some sharks cruising, for sure.
What are the goldfish thinking? Someone needs to tell them to ride their motorbike back up to New Triton. Far better to get soaked than take their chances in here.
The guy’s got the right idea, he’s gesturing toward the door. But the girl shakes her head and presses her mouth into a thin, flat line. He points at the band on her wrist, but she shakes her head again, looking over to the big holo screen at the other end of the shelter. Seems they’re arguing about it, but from the set of her lips I can tell he’s going to lose. What show could be so important she’d want to watch it in here?
I keep thinking one of the stompers watching the dinner lines will tell them to leave, but a fight’s broken out near the cluster of food machines that are spitting out the stew. At least a dozen men are piling into the fray, and the stompers are heading toward them instead.
I want to see if the goldfish do the smart thing and take off, but my band vibrates. It’s Ma. When I answer it I have to shout over all the noise.
Ma’s head appears above my band. Even if my cybernetic eye didn’t glitch out when I tried to look at holograms, her image is so pixelated, she’s little better than a blob.
“Milla, you okay?” It’s Ma’s way of saying hello.
Every time she asks that question, I think about answering with the truth. But what good would it do? Besides, she lives in a shelter too, the one above the factory where she works, and they’re all equally dangerous, especially for a woman on her own. That’s why I never ask if she’s okay. I don’t want her to have to lie.
“Fine,” I shout. Then, feeling bad for shutting her out, I add a little truth. “Actually I’m worried about Tori. It’s packed tonight, and she’s late.”
“She might be pulling a double shift?”
“Maybe. She got called in to see the boss.” If Tori is pulling a double, I’ll have to find another woman to buddy up with tonight so we can take turns in the line for the bathroom and guarding each other while we sleep. It’s weird Tori didn’t give me a heads-up.
“Have you eaten?” Ma asks.
I glance down at the licked-clean bowl that held lumpy gray stew. “Steak.” The word makes my mouth water. “With creamy potatoes and gravy. You?”
“Oh, I went straight for the chocolate cake and ice cream. Double portion.” She chuckles, but when she draws in her breath I catch a hitch that makes my heart ache.
“I got paid today.” I do my best to sound cheerful. “I was about to transfer it to you.”
“Thanks, love. I’m sorry I can’t talk, I’m about to start shift.”
“But—”
Although I know she’s already done a full day’s work, I bite off my objection. It won’t help if I kick up a fuss. If my cybernetic eye and my band’s hologram app both worked properly, I’d be able to check whether she looks as exhausted as she sounds.
“You’re only doing a double shift?” I ask instead. “And after this one, you’ll get some sleep?”
“I will. Don’t worry about me, love. I feel fine, and I need to take the work when it’s available.”
Ma and I are saving as hard as we can for a real home. Somewhere safe for the three of us, including my brother William, like we used to have when my father was alive. When I first started work at the factory, I thought we’d be able to get William back with us soon. Now I try not to keep track of how much Ma and I have managed to save, or imagine the day our dream might come true. If I think about it too hard, the shelter might somehow pollute it. The floor in here is filthy, everything covered with grit and mud. I don’t want that filth worming its way into the one bit of hope I have left.
“Work safe, Ma,” I say. “Don’t get too tired. Make them give you a break if you need it.”
“I will, love. You take care of yourself. Sleep safe.”
When I disconnect, I look back to the door, but the food line’s grown and it’s blocking my view. Anyway, Tori knows where to find me. Ma’s right, she’s probably working an extra shift.
I can’t see the two goldfish either, but they must have left. They couldn’t be dumb enough to hang around. Night like this, too many exhausted, pissed-on, frustrated grunts crammed into this place, they wouldn’t last ten minutes. I’ve seen enough robbings and bashings without looking for more, and I’m beat from another long, sweaty day working beside hot machines.
“Milla.” Tori’s voice comes from behind me.
Shoving my empty bowl into the receptacle, I jump up and give my place at the table to a meat-sack who’s jostling to get in. When I
turn to greet Tori, her expression is grim. Her hair is wet from the rain and she’s holding a grimy, over-stuffed bag of clothes under her arm.
My stomach turns over. Why has she grabbed all her stuff out of her locker?
“Milla, they’re transferring me.”
“What?” I can hear my own heart beating, as though it’s suddenly dead silent in the shelter instead of deafeningly loud. “No.” I step toward her to grab her arm. “You can’t go.”
She glances at the door. “A group of us got canned, but I’m lucky, they said there was a place at another factory for me. They gave me just a couple of minutes to grab my stuff.”
“Which factory are you going to?”
“No idea.” She shrugs as though she doesn’t care, but I can see the pain in her eyes. “Be a change from this place though, right? Hope they transfer me to a food factory and let me stuff myself until I can’t eat any more.”
“Maybe I could come with you. There might be two jobs…?” My voice breaks as I hear how raw and desperate I sound. It’d be stupid even to ask. Might get me fired with nowhere to go, which could be a death sentence for someone like me.
“Hey.” Tori grabs me in a fierce one-armed hug. “Be strong, okay? I know how tough you are. You just need to believe it.”
I hug her back, dropping my face onto her shoulder. Even the stink of her sweat after a twelve-hour shift smells sweet to me now. My friend is all muscle, guts, and smarts, and her grip is strong.
Her dripping hair is cold against my cheek. It gives me a reason to have a wet face on that side. On the other side, I can’t make tears from my cybernetic eye.
“You won’t know anyone,” I mumble into her shoulder. “Who’ll look out for your sorry ass if I’m not there?”
“I’ll find someone. When you were transferred you met me, right? Bet I meet someone I like way more than you at the new place.” She hugs me tighter, then releases me and steps back. “I’d better go. If I take too long, they’ll leave without me.”
I swipe my cheek dry with my sleeve before she can see it’s wet. Tori’s the best friend I ever had, and a hundred times tougher than me.
“How am I going to survive without you?” I don’t even realize I’m asking the question aloud until I hear the words.
“Hang out with Sabbie and Ray. They’ll take care of you. And watch your back, okay? Get yourself killed, and I’ll kick your scrawny butt.” She glances to the door. “I need to go. If they give the new job to someone else, I’m screwed.”
“Then go, already.” I force myself to keep my arms by my sides instead of grabbing hold and begging her to stay. The only thing worse than losing her would be if she didn’t have another job to go to.
“Love ya, slugger. Keep fighting.” She holds one fist up, curled fingers facing me, giving me the salute used by the Fist, the resistance group she belongs to.
“Please be safe.” The words have a hollow ring. She’s anything but safe, and any chance I’ll ever see her again is remote. From now on, she’ll be a pixelated blob that occasionally projects from my band, just like Ma.
Tori turns and strides to the door, hitching her bag of clothes higher on her hip as she goes. Her head is lifted and she doesn’t hesitate as she pushes through the grunts still shuffling into the shelter.
I stare after her for a long time, both fists clenched tight and my good eye burning. I hate this place so much, I want to scream my rage and pain at the top of my lungs, but my throat is so tight, I can’t even swallow.
She’ll be okay. Maybe if I tell myself that enough times, I’ll believe it. I really hope we’ll both be okay, but it was stupid of me to depend on Tori as much as I did. I should have learned my lesson when I was transferred away from Ma, dumped in here on my own to survive however I could. This place will never be fair.
The one thing you can count on here is that anything good won’t last.
Blindly, I stumble toward the back of the shelter. The mattresses are stacked back there, and it’s still early enough that there should still be some dry ones. All I can think of is curling up in a corner and covering my head with my arms so no one can see me bawl.
Most of the grunts who’ve finished eating are jammed in around the big holo, and I have to fight through the crowd of watchers to get to the mattresses.
Then I see them.
Two dumb goldfish.
Their perfectly tweaked faces are angled at the holo, their eyes fixed to the screen. They have no idea that sharks are circling.
I count three sharks who I know by sight and reputation. They’re behind the goldfish, checking them out, sizing up their expensive clothes and the motorcycle helmets. Speculating about what treasures they might find in their pockets. One shark fingers something inside his ripped old coat and I’d bet a week’s wages it’s a blade. All sharks have hardware, smuggled in past the scanners.
I should go right past. There’s already a circle clearing around them, people edging away, and I can hear Tori’s voice in my head. First rule is to steer clear of trouble, Milla.
But my heart is full of so much frustration and rage, my feet stop of their own accord.
The girl’s eyes are fixed to the holo, barely blinking. She’s standing there as if nobody else exists, not looking behind her, like nothing could ever hurt her. Even more clueless than I was when I first arrived at this shelter, before Tori took pity on me.
In a minute the sharks will be on her.
Every good thing in this place gets ruined, and I’ll never have the strength or power to do a single damn thing about it.
Unless…
I jostle forward until I get spat out of the crush of people into the empty space that’s formed behind the two goldfish. This close, the girl’s skin looks more polished than I can believe. It’s stupid to be pretty; it makes you a target. In here it’s better to look like me.
“You need to leave right now,” I say from behind her, pitching my voice low and urgent. “Men are coming for you.” At the same time, I reach out to run my fingers over the fabric of her coat. All my clothes are dirt-colored, and I’ve never seen such a deep clean blue. It’s so beautiful it takes my breath away. I wish I could soak up that blue, that it was a place I could escape to. If only I could drink it up through my fingers.
She shrieks and I snatch my hand back, but she’s not reacting to me, hasn’t even glanced my way. “That was my name.” She clutches her boyfriend’s arm. “I got through. I did it! Did you hear? They called my name!”
“Was it you? Are you sure?”
“Look!” She points at the holo and we both follow her finger to the screen.
My cybernetic eye’s scanning frequency is the same as the holo, so all I see is interference patterns unless I keep that eye closed. By shutting my bad eye, I can make out a short list of names, only they’re too hard to read one-eyed because the letters are flashing, with fireworks bursting behind them.
“Oh my god.” His voice goes high. “That’s you, Rayne. It’s you!”
“Five million credits!” She squeals it so loud my heart just about stops beating. Five million credits? Has she won it? It’s got to be a joke. Nobody could win that much, could they? My good eye snaps back to the holo, but all it shows now is a woman’s face. It’s Director Morelle. She’s standing in front of the Morelle scraper, looking not a day older than when I used to watch news feeds about her, before I lost my eye.
The girl’s band is coming to life, a hologram of a woman projecting out of it. I catch only a glimpse before someone jostles my side. Turning, I see one of the sharks closing in on the goldfish, his blade half-drawn from under his coat. At the glint of metal, all my muscles go tight. In a moment he’ll be on her, and she has no idea he’s coming.
Without thinking, I reach out and shove the girl hard in the middle of her blue-coated back. She stumbles forward, dropping her motorbike helmet and smacking into a hard-faced woman who spits a swear word at her.
“Hey!” someone yells. Probabl
y the girl’s boyfriend, but I’m too busy watching the shark to glance in his direction.
The shark glares at me, his lip curled in an ugly sneer and his blade brandished as a threat. My heart’s thudding. Am I crazy? What the hell am I doing?
“Get lost, freak,” the shark snarls.
I hold both hands up like I’m surrendering. Pretending to give in, so he thinks I won’t get in his way. But when his attention goes back to the girl, adrenaline rushes through me. I couldn’t do anything to help Tori, but there’s one thing I can do. If this is a way to fight back against the unfairness of this place, I refuse to walk away.
The shark lunges at the girl, and I ball my fist and punch him in the side, right in the kidney.
He doubles over, cursing. The girl stares at me, her eyes filled with horror. Whether it’s from how I look or what I just did, who knows? Either way, she’s about to start screaming. Good. The noise might get the stompers over here. Better a beating from them than a shark’s blade in my guts.
Two more sharks close in on the boyfriend. One yanks off his fancy coat, the other goes for his pockets. He’s yelping. The girl screams so loud it deafens me. Nothing I can do about the boyfriend, but with luck the stompers should be here before she gets stripped or knifed.
Time to get lost. I turn to run but the shark I punched must have a cast-iron kidney. He fumbles for my coat, grabs the back of it and holds on. I struggle, trying to pull myself out of it, but he yanks it so hard I fall over. The side of my face smacks against the muddy floor. My arms are trapped behind my back, tangled in my sleeves.