Heir Ascendant

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Heir Ascendant Page 14

by Matthew S. Cox


  Pick squatted and stared with awe at the huge gun on the bottom. “That’s a big’un.”

  “Fifty caliber,” said Sarah “We shouldn’t be anywhere near this thing. Come on, Ruben. Now!”

  Maya leaned away. “Home?”

  “We shouldn’t be seen next to a dead drone,” said Sarah after she grabbed at and missed Pick. “If someone thinks we did this, it won’t matter that we’re kids.”

  “Who’d think we did this?” asked Marcus. “We ain’t got no guns.”

  Pick twisted his finger back and forth in his nostril. “You coulda farted it down.”

  “Yeah.” Anton backed up. “Maybe this is what her dad was worrying about, not those losers in the building.”

  Maya crept up to the front end, where Pick stuck his nose-cleaning finger knuckle deep in a bullet hole. “Please get away from it.”

  Marcus startled a yelp from Sarah when he jumped onto the drone and perched in the middle of the fuselage, riding the motorbike it wasn’t. He braced his feet on the struts connected to the rear fan enclosures and leaned forward. “How awesome would it be to ride one of these things?” He made flying sound effects and rocked about as if airborne.

  Pick scurried away from Maya and crawled under the drone, attracted to a red arrow labeled ‘danger,’ which pointed at a small hatch.

  “That’s it!” Sarah lunged at Marcus, grabbing him by the left arm and shoulder. “Get off that thing right now! We are going home.”

  “Hey!” Marcus shouted and flailed. His flailing leg kicked into one of the open panels, causing a flash and a beep.

  The drone’s flashing police lights came on, along with its three remaining fans, though it didn’t leave the ground. A distorted electronic voice warbled a jagged buzzing mess no longer even close to speech. Marcus leapt in the direction Sarah pulled and landed on top of her. Pick shrieked and sprinted for the safety of the empty basin surrounding the nonworking fountain. Anton dropped where he stood, arms and legs out in an X shape. Maya wound up the only one standing―two feet in front of it.

  The drone’s autocannon trained on her.

  Sarah wailed a noise half Maya’s name and half the word no.

  Old instinct locked Maya at attention. A grid of green laser lines lit her up from a small black lens on the nose, which swiveled back and forth. Maya kept her arms tight to her sides, hands balled into fists, eyes pointed straight ahead, and held her breath. Three seconds later, the drone emitted a pleasant sounding chirp and its weapon broke target lock, swiveling to neutral forward.

  Her hair whipped around in a fury when the three remaining fans spun up faster. Sparks shot out of its sides from tiny explosions that knocked hatches and body panels open. The whine of fan motors kept increasing in pitch, making her take two steps back.

  Maya scrambled to the right and dove to the pavement a split second before the machine lurched into the air, careening in an arc like a giant had kicked it in the back end, bright blue sparks lapping from its hull at the darkening sky. She rolled onto her back, guarding her face with both arms from the rain of debris bits falling on her. The roar and fury of electric motors stopped with an abrupt boom when it crashed upside down a distance away and exploded in a plume of blue-green fire. A spinning fan whizzed off like a shuriken and smashed a fourth-floor window.

  One by one, the kids rose to their feet, leaving Maya the only one on the ground. Authority drones didn’t do random scans; it had to be in arrest mode and locked on to the nearest person after it rebooted. Being that close to a huge machine gun likely to fire if she so much as wiggled a finger wrong kept her paralyzed. Anton and Marcus appeared at her left. Pick peered straight down at her, his feet on either side of her head. Sarah stood on her right, next to Emily.

  A short period of stunned silence passed where no one moved even to blink.

  Sarah reached down and helped her up.

  “Whoa.” Pick blinked.

  “Damn.” Anton pointed at her. “You really are a Citizen, aren’t you?”

  Marcus’s jaw hung open. He fished paper out of his back pocket and unfurled a print ad for Loftin-CX, one of Ascendant’s designer antidepressants. Crisscrossed by wrinkled creases, the face of her seven-year-old self―bright purple lipstick and all―flashed that perfect smile. “It is her.”

  “Lemme see.” Pick ran around to stand between the twins and tugged the paper down to his level. “Wow.”

  Maya shrank in on herself, wishing she could disappear into a hole. She hadn’t felt that embarrassed since she snapped a heel off her shoe on the boardroom table and took a pratfall into Jerry Michaels’ coffee on live AuthCast. The junior VP of marketing still called her klutz three years later. The tears she wasn’t allowed to show then came now. “I… Please don’t tell anyone.”

  Emily touched Maya’s cheek. “You’re pretty.”

  “Please don’t tell.” Maya wiped her face. “They’ll hurt everyone. I don’t want to go back. I wanna stay here. Genna’s my mom now.”

  “Lisa?” asked Pick.

  “Her name is Maya,” said Marcus. He fidgeted.

  Anton chuckled. “My brother likes you.”

  Marcus shoved him.

  “Like a lot,” said Anton.

  Marcus shoved him harder.

  Sarah seemed to find her confidence―and smile―again. “We’re not gonna tell anyone. We all know what kind of lying bitches the Authority are.”

  “That stuff you said… about it being sad there.” Anton looked in the direction of the Sanctuary Zone. “You sayin’ that ‘cause you knew.”

  Maya reined in her tears. “Yes.”

  Emily tucked the laptop under her left arm. She crept closer, poking and touching Maya as if examining a doll in a toy store.

  “I think she’s lying. Why would the richest kid in the world want to live with poor people?” Anton shook his head.

  Emily kept touching Maya’s hair. “She’s not the richest kid in the world. My dad says there’s people with lotta money in a place called Ell Ay. Way far to the west past the wilds. So far ‘way Authority don’ even go there.”

  “Maybe the richest kid on the East Coast then.” Anton shrugged.

  “They treated me like a thing. I wasn’t allowed to go outside or do anything but sit on the computer all day long. I only saw Vanessa once or twice a month, and for, like, only an hour.” Maya brushed her hands down her nightdress in an effort to clear some of the char from the dying drone.

  “I still think you’re dumb,” said Anton. “I’d take a fancy apartment, all the video games I could get my hands on, good food, and money over this… even if I was alone.”

  “Research showed people responded better to a female child as a marketing tool. They wouldn’t use you.” Maya took a deep breath before muttering a quick summary of how she came to be out here. “And Vanessa wouldn’t even talk to them. She didn’t even try to get me back.”

  “Man.” Marcus looked down and shook his head. “Genna wouldn’t have killed you, no matter how mean she was at first. She ain’t like that.”

  “How could your mother not want you?” asked Emily, hugging the laptop like a security blanket. “That’s so sad!”

  “She’s not my mother.” Maya glowered. “I don’t think they’d even want me back… but if they do, they’re gonna kill everyone that knows I got kidnapped. That woman has power issues. Anything that makes Ascendant seem weak, she tries to get rid of. You can’t tell anyone.”

  “But ‘Cendant only makes drugs. Authority’s the law,” said Marcus, still fidgeting.

  Maya held her hands up. “They do whatever she wants though.”

  “Book said ‘Thority is different in Boston. Not as mean as here, and they don’ like ‘Cendant.” Anton poked his brother and glanced at Maya.

  “Well, we ain’t in Boston.” Marcus folded his arms.

  Sarah hugged her from behind. “No way any of us will say a damn thing.”

  “Yeah.” Pick stuffed his finger up his nose. “
I don’t like it when I get killed.”

  Emily bounced on her toes and clapped, beaming.

  Marcus’s teeth showed in a wide grin. He held a fist out to Maya. “We good.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. Anton grasped her arm, folded her fingers into a fist, and guided her to touch knuckles with him. She smiled and fist-bumped the rest of the group one after the next.

  Marcus patted her on the back. “You one of us now, Sanc girl.”

  “We should get out of here. That blow up was loud,” said Sarah.

  “Yes.” Maya grinned. “Let’s go home.”

  he sun had almost vanished from the sky by the time Pick led the way through the breach in the fence, slats in the chain link clattering and rattling with the single-file procession. Maya frowned at the four Hydra packs she carried. Without the machine, they’d be useless. At least they’d last forever… or at least well past her lifespan.

  “Mommy’s gonna be mad,” said Emily. “I stayed out too long.” She looked up at Sarah. “Can you tell her we had to hide from bad guys?”

  “It’s not a lie.” Sarah ruffled the girl’s hair. “We did.”

  Everyone got quiet for the short walk across the lot. Maya cringed as a camera-flash snapshot of Moth punching the Authority officer out of her old bedroom appeared in her mind. Having been close to people getting killed didn’t make the idea of being one wall away from Dave taking a bullet any less scary. Dozens of articles and e-learns referenced the war, but seeing pictures of dead people, soldiers and civilians alike, had a certain detachment to it that being ten feet away from a murder couldn’t compare to. Maya shivered at the thought of what it must have felt like for the people caught up in the front lines. She couldn’t wait to get upstairs and be with her mom.

  She beat the group to the back door, but it took two hands and a foot on the wall for her to haul the heavy thing open. The others trooped past her into the hallway that connected from the rear exit, past the non-working elevator area, to the front lobby where all the old mailboxes stood forgotten. Needing both hands to keep the door open, Maya shoved the Hydra packs in with her foot before letting the door slam behind her.

  “Where’s dinner tonight?” asked Pick.

  Marcus rubbed his stomach. “Is Naida working? Can she cook?”

  “I dunno.” Pick ground his toe into the linoleum. “I can ask.”

  Anton shrugged. “What about Genna? It’s her turn to feed us.”

  “She’s sick.” Maya pointed at her right arm. “She’s sleeping all the time because she’s on medicine… and you do not want anything that was ever in our fridge. It’s so gross we need a new one.”

  The kids laughed.

  “I got cheese sandwiches,” said Sarah, earning a chorus of groans. “Oh, come on. They’re not that bad.”

  Pick stuck out his tongue. “VA gives ‘em ‘way ‘cause no one wants ta buy ‘em.”

  “I’ll go ask my dad to make us food.” Emily zipped into the stairwell.

  “Hey, good idea,” said Marcus.

  The twins shoved the fire door open and ran up the steps two at a time.

  Sarah sighed. “No one likes the sandwiches.”

  “I do.” Maya smiled.

  “I suppose―” Sarah froze as a pair of headlights flashed over the front doors. Her mouth hung open, and the hand she’d been about to point at the door with shook. The groaning whine of an electric motor out front grew louder over a span of two seconds and cut out with a brief squeak of tires.

  “Sarah?” Maya tilted her head.

  The redhead trembled. Without a word, she backed through the fire door and curled up in a ball under the first flight of stairs. Maya started to follow, but hesitated as a thick-bodied man with shaggy, curly brown hair stormed in from the street. He pulled his hood down once the door slammed and fumbled with a keyring on his way in.

  That must be Mr. Mason.

  Maya stood her ground, curious as to exactly how bad this man was. He didn’t seem obese nor particularly athletic, though he didn’t look like he shared the other residents’ problem of having to scrounge for food and clothes. His drab grey poncho looked in good repair; two thin spiral hoses ran up the front to a breathing mask over his face. Anyone with a condition like asthma, a diagnosed susceptibility to Fade, or sensitivity to poor air quality often wore the powered filters even when the bacteria forecast showed low levels. Hard brown eyes focused on the floor as he trudged along. His gaze flicked in her general direction for an instant, then returned with interest.

  Her initial impression that he’d be as likely to backhand her out of his way as say hello faded. The sense of constant rage melted out of his expression. He reached up and pulled the mask away from his mouth and nose. Thick lips stretched to an over-friendly smile, surrounded by wrinkled, pale skin.

  “Hello there, sweetie.” He stared at her. “What a nice surprise. Usually you kids run.”

  Maya kept a neutral expression. “Hello. Is it true that you’re mean?”

  Mr. Mason loosed a phlegmatic chuckle. “Naw, sweetie. They usually see me after a day’s work of dealing with stupid people. Leaves a man in a bad mood.” He took a step closer, smiling. “I love kids. You look like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

  “Everyone says that.” Maya tensed up. This man made her uncomfortable.

  He traced a finger across her bare shoulder, over the spaghetti strap of her nightdress to the base of her neck. The contact sent an unpleasant shiver down her back. She leaned away when he moved to touch her cheek.

  “You’re really pretty. Perfect even.” He gestured to his left. “You hungry, kid? I got a Hydra for those packs of yours. Only working one in the whole building.”

  Maya took another step back. “No, thanks. I only wanted to say hi.”

  “Are you sure? There’s a Daisho-X with about thirty games waiting ‘til I have someone to play with. Would you like to play some games?” He offered his hand. “The washing machine in my place works. I can clean that dirty little nightie of yours while you play. You could even take a bath if you want.”

  “No.” Maya backed up again and narrowed her eyes. The way Sarah had blushed made perfect sense to her now. “I know exactly what you want. You’re one of those. How stupid do you think I am? I’m not going anywhere alone with you.”

  Mr. Mason chuckled, coughed, and swallowed. “You do look familiar. What are you doing here?” The way he stared at her made her think he tried to imagine away her nightdress. “You’re so damn pretty. Bet you don’t got nothin’ on under that, do you?”

  “Stop it.” Maya’s courage took a dent at the notice he’d gotten between her and the fire stairs. “I read all about people like you on the net.”

  “You know what else is on the net, sweetie? Famous little thing like you… all sorts of pictures. Do you know what gets done to that fine little body of yours?” He licked his lip. “Maybe I won’t recognize you if you behave yourself, huh? You look hungry. Come on, I’ll cook you something.”

  “Hey, where are you two?” yelled Marcus from the stairwell.

  “Right here,” yelled Maya. “I’m just talking with Mr. Mason.”

  He chuckled in a low, barely audible tone. Maya backed into the cinder block wall when he made to walk past her, staring defiance up at him. He reached two fingers for her chin, but she lifted her head up and away, squeezing herself against the cold wall, toes whitening on the floor as he leaned over her. Despite the warm air in the hall, she shivered. He grasped her shoulder in a rough, calloused grip.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Heh.” He winked. “Looks like we both got secrets, princess. I might need some help rememberin’ to keep them. You’re even prettier for real. You sure we can’t be friends?”

  “I’m sure.” Maya would’ve given anything for Genna to appear out of the fire stairs at that instant.

  He brushed a thumb over her cheek before walking off, dragging his hand across her chest. Maya dropped the Hydra packs
and folded her arms over herself, shivering once he no longer looked at her. Nausea and fear lasted another two seconds before anger kicked them to the side. She scowled at the door to his apartment, gathered the dehydrated food, and hurried into the stairwell, straight to the hollow under the first flight.

  Sarah was gone.

  Maya ran up to the seventh floor. She didn’t slow down until after she kicked the door to her home closed and flipped the deadbolt. Sick to her stomach from fear, she dropped the silver meal packets on the coffee table, sprinted down the hall to the bedroom, and jumped on the bed. Genna woke on impact and muttered incoherently before sitting up.

  “Mom!” Maya shivered from the conflict between anger and her physical inability to vent it on a grown man.

  “What’s wrong?” Genna sat up.

  “Mr. Mason tried to get me to go inside his apartment. He said dirty things and grabbed me.”

  Genna’s dark brown eyes almost bulged straight out of their sockets. The rage and pain radiating from them made her cry, not for what Mason had done, but out of joy that someone actually cared. She cradled Maya’s cheeks in both hands and touched foreheads. Her voice quivered with dread. “You tell me everything that happened, okay? It’s not your fault.”

  “I know.” Maya sniffled. “Sarah ran away when he walked in, but I didn’t. I thought the others might only be picking on a lonely old man.” She scowled. “But he’s one of those.”

  “What did he do?” Genna’s tone got dark. “Son of a bitch. He did. Oh, Sarah. No one believed her when she told us he’d tried to drag her into his apartment. That piece of shit said she made it up when he caught her stealing food.”

  Maya patted her chest. “He grabbed me here for a couple seconds but walked away. I told him I knew why he wanted me to go to his apartment and I wouldn’t go with him.” She relayed everything he’d said to her.

  “I’m gonna―” Genna raised both arms, her right still in a cast, and inhaled with a hiss. “Ow, fuck.” She fell flat, teeth clenched. “As soon as the god damned floor and ceiling stop switchin’ places, there gon’ be an empty ‘partment on the first.”

 

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