Heir Ascendant

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Bah. ‘At’s boo-shee.” The Dad grumbled. “Ain’t they no respectin’ anything.”

  He drinks too much. Maya leaned back from a blast of beer breath and managed a weak smile when Sarah set food in front of her. “Thanks.”

  Aside from Sarah’s father rambling about the Authority overstepping its supposed legal rights, no one spoke over dinner. He mumbled something incomprehensible and winked at Sarah.

  “Thanks.” Sarah smiled.

  A few seconds after he got up and walked into the living room, Maya whispered, “You understood that?”

  “Yeah. He just said the food was good.” Sarah stacked the empty bowls and carried them to the sink.

  “Srah! ‘Mere.” Dad wagged his metal arm from the living room. “What a dark one’s name ‘gain?”

  The girls exchanged a glance that wordlessly agreed on playing it safe.

  “Lisa,” said Sarah.

  “You too.” He waved. “‘Mere. ‘Mon back.” The Dad trudged off to the larger bedroom.

  Maya blinked.

  “It’s okay.” Sarah put the bowls down, wiped her hands on a towel, and walked down the hall.

  Maya hesitated a few seconds before getting up and following. In the bedroom, he pointed at the bed and murmured indecipherable words again. Sarah sat on the edge, evidently understanding him. Maya hopped up next to her. While The Dad rummaged among a pile of old boxes in the big closet, she looked around. A thin wire came in from a hole in the ceiling, ran along the wall to a crude electronic box over the bed. It had two buttons and a big speaker, but she couldn’t imagine what it did.

  The Dad surfaced a few minutes later with something that looked like the baby produced from a wasp mating with a handgun. It had the overall shape of a pistol, with a rubberized grip. Two metal studs protruded from the squarish front, above and below the barrel. Diagonal yellow and black lines covered the rest of it. He looked the device over before nodding at it.

  “‘Kay.” He held it up. “Ya two nee’ learn ‘ow ta ‘fend yerselves. Nae need killin’ f’ya got one o’ dese ‘ere Hornets.”

  “Is that a gun?” asked Maya.

  “Stunner.” The Dad moved closer, holding the weapon in his palm. “This”―he pointed at a sliding switch where a right-handed shooter’s thumb would be―“be the power switch. Thing won’t work if it’s back. Push forward wit’ yer thumb.” He demonstrated.

  The device emitted a faint bwee noise like a capacitor powering up. Sarah leaned back, looking uneasy.

  “This one be jes like what dem ‘Thority shits ‘ave.” He patted it. “Two modes o’ use. This”―he pointed at a button in the middle of the pistol grip―“releases the magazine.” He withdrew a narrow magazine from the handle and tilted it to let the girls look in the top. It contained thirteen metal rods about an inch long each, tipped with needles. “Microcell battery inside each dart will knock a man on his arse fer a couple o’ minutes. Donnae work on armor.” He reseated the magazine and held the Hornet so they could see the front end without it being pointed at them. “S’got two prongs.” He indicated the pair of metal studs on the front end. “Mode two.” He demonstrated the selector above the trigger, which rather than firing darts, would send power to the electrodes.

  He turned the power switch off and handed it to Sarah.

  She took it with an unsteady hand and looked it over. At his prodding, she worked the various buttons and controls, unloading and reloading it, switching modes from shoot to zap, and repeating it all with her eyes closed. After, he made her do everything over again with the weapon held behind her back. Once Sarah finished, he had her turn it off and made Maya do the whole routine. Twenty minutes later, both girls could recite the optimal range of thirty feet for the dart, knew not to aim for the face (since it could cause brain damage), and that the in-magazine battery could power five zaps from the electrodes before running dry.

  “Ye did good.” He patted them both on the head. “Donnae shoot kids wit’ it. Tae small, might do real ‘arm.” The Dad put the Hornet back in the closet and reburied it.

  Maya raked the carpet with her toes as he walked out. A moment later, the boxing match resumed in the living room, and with it, shouted curses. “Wow, he really does come out of nowhere with random stuff.”

  “Yeah. Next month he’ll teach us how to rig a proximity mine or kill a Korean soldier with dental floss and two potatoes.”

  Maya giggled into her hands.

  Sarah got up. “We should get out of his room before he forgets why we’re here.”

  They walked out, hooked a hard left, and went into the other bedroom, about two-thirds the size. Sarah pulled a shoebox out of her closet and set it on the bed. Maya flopped on one side.

  “Wanna play a game for a bit? I’m not really tired yet.”

  Maya tried to sound interested. “What is it?”

  Sarah lifted the lid to reveal stacks of old cards with fanciful pictures. “Dad tried to get rid of them ‘cause he thought it was real magic, but that’s just the name of the cards.” She explained how the game worked―each player had a pool of points, and the first person to run out of them lost. Some cards were lands, which somehow translated to power, and the players used creatures, spells, and enchantments to do various things.

  They sat cross-legged on the floor and played for a little more than an hour, though by that time both had amassed a huge field of cards. Neither had taken a single point of damage, and Sarah had wound up gaining ten more from where she’d started.

  “This is impossible,” said Maya. “Are you sure we’re playing it right?”

  “Yep.” Sarah showed off a card. “The rules are right here.”

  Maya felt a little embarrassed at her surprise Sarah could read. The twins had mentioned between video games in the basement that Zoe and Doc tutored them almost like school, but for some reason took a break over the summer months. Book made it a point to ensure his boys could read and offered to help anyone else who wanted to learn. The e-learns Maya had finished had gone up to grade twelve, stuff intended for eighteen-year-olds―one benefit of total boredom while locked in a lavish penthouse prison.

  Despite their gap in institutional learning, Maya had in Sarah a friend she could relate to for the first time in her life. Her heart grew heavy at the thought of leaving. Staying here with Sarah and letting Barnes and the other adults worry about Genna made logical sense, but she couldn’t get over the guilt. Abandoning this growing friendship felt like an awful thing to do. She meant to come back―with Genna―but didn’t know if she’d be able to. The worst thing that could happen would be to wind up stuck in the penthouse again. It didn’t seem likely at all that Vanessa would hurt her; after all, she hadn’t actually done anything but be kidnapped and decide to hate the woman.

  She distracted herself by staring at the pretty pictures of monsters and elves on the cards.

  “Go ta bed,” yelled The Dad.

  Maya gathered her cards.

  “Wait. Don’t you wanna leave it so we can keep playing tomorrow?” Sarah blinked.

  “Uhh.” Maya almost burst into tears. She wouldn’t be here tomorrow, but maybe she’d make it back. She slid her hand the other way, laying the strip of cards back on the thin rug. “Okay.”

  Sarah hit the light switch by the door, darkening the bare bulb at the center of the ceiling, and crawled into bed still in her curtain-dress. She scooted all the way across against the wall to leave room. Maya thought it odd the girl didn’t change into a nightgown, but had too much on her mind to bother questioning anything. Duh. I’ve only got one thing to wear too. She climbed in to lay beside her friend, but focused on staying awake. Before long, heavy snoring rumbled the wall behind Sarah. The Dad had passed out. For a little while, Sarah lay flat. Eventually, she rolled on her side up against Maya. Warm breath puffed over the back of her neck. A moment later, a pale arm slid across her chest and held on.

  Great. I’m a stuffed bear.

  Maya stared at a patch of moo
nlight on the rug, cast from a tiny two-foot square window in the wall at the head of the bed. I’m supposed to be smart. Running off in the middle of the night doesn’t seem very smart. Her mind wandered around what Genna might be doing at that moment. Pacing in a jail cell, punching the wall, possibly delirious on interrogation drugs. Maybe fate would have a sense of humor and Mr. Mason would end up in the same cell. Genna wouldn’t want Maya to put herself in danger, but she had to.

  Being the pet of the CEO of Ascendant Pharmaceuticals sucked.

  Once Sarah’s breathing took on a pace that indicated sleep, Maya lifted the girl’s arm away and slipped off the bed. She thought about going for the Hornet, but Sarah had mentioned The Dad would pop awake at the slightest noise, something about his having been with a reconnaissance unit during the war. If he was even half as unstable as Moth, sneaking into his room had ‘bad idea’ written all over it. Maya crawled to the door before standing and looking back at Sarah. Everything about this plan felt like a mistake. Everything except letting Genna die.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah,” she whispered.

  After a lingering stare, Maya bowed her head and made her way across the apartment and out to the hallway.

  aya crept down the fire stairs to the ground floor and crossed the parking lot to the breach in the fence. It occurred to her that having a plan first might’ve been a good idea, but after three days, Genna should’ve been set free if they hadn’t found anything. She didn’t have time to plan. All she needed to do was get to the Sanctuary Zone and… well… she’d figure the next part out when she got there.

  The coarse paving massaged her soles, surprising her by how much warmth it held even at night. Bright artificial light in the distant gloom shone like a beacon in the dark, a snow-globe silver castle. Finding the Sanctuary Zone wasn’t the hard part. She headed in the direction of the glow for a few blocks, but doubt crept in once a glance back over her shoulder couldn’t pick out her building anymore. The urge to go home to her friend reared up. Maya bowed her head, turned about and took a few steps back toward the building. She stopped, staring down at the road, shivering from fear and sorrow. Without her mother, she couldn’t go back. None of the adults seemed to care at all about Genna. If Maya didn’t do something now, the woman could die. A deep breath gave her confidence; she whirled to face the Sanc again, and set off at a brisk stride.

  Fear chipped away at her mind. Minutes later, her gait slowed to a tentative creep. She distracted herself from her worries by trying to keep her feet on the painted yellow stripe down the center of the road. Patches of much newer looking paving filled in wherever the war had dug holes. A while of walking later, she looked up, but felt no closer. Random facts from endless hours in front of the AuthNet told her the Habitation District was 11.2 miles south from where she wanted to go. She frowned at her spindly legs. The most walking she usually did took her between her bedroom and the bathroom, never mind eleven miles outside barefoot.

  This is stupid.

  “Hey,” said a gurgly male voice at the same instant his hand patted down, grasping her shoulder.

  Maya let out a short, high-pitched squeal.

  A shaggy-haired man, who likely looked far older than his true age, flashed a yellow-toothed smile. “Can ya spare any change?”

  “Uhh.” Maya clutched her chest. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” The stink of his presence ripped the air out of her lungs.

  Eyes watering, she tried to walk off, but he didn’t let go of her shoulder. “I don’t have any money.”

  “Aww, come on. We’re in this together.” His fingers slipped down, his fist closing around the nightdress between her shoulder blades. “I don’t need much. Ya can spare a bit?”

  Maya shivered. She didn’t sense the same unease that Mason radiated, but the tightening cloth about her chest made her worry he’d steal her only possession. If she fought too hard to get away, he’d rip it right off her. Walking eleven miles barefoot sounded like a bad enough idea, but naked? She’d have no choice but to give up and go back to Sarah’s place. “I’m just a kid. I don’t have any money. Please let go of me.”

  He jogged her with a gentle shake. “You don’t know how hard it is out here, missy. Everyone’s gotta help each other.”

  Maya struggled, twisting side to side in an attempt to get him to release her nightdress. “Please let me go. I swear I don’t have any money.” A weak ripping sound from behind her right ear made her freeze.

  The man rambled about how people who don’t help each other ain’t worth nothin’.

  Maya reached up behind her head and tried to pry his fingers away. He kept jostling her about. Desperation peaked, and she drove her heel into his toes. “Get offa me!”

  The man blinked as if waking out of a stupor. He stared vacantly at her for a few seconds and let go. Maya stumbled forward three steps and whirled to face him, clutching the garment to her chest.

  “Oh. Just a kid. Damn. S’pose I was sleep-begging.” Breath from an alcohol-laden chuckle made her gag. “Sorry if ah scared ya.”

  She backed up against the wall of a building, hands clutched to her chest, watching him amble across the street and crawl into a battered box. Once sure he wouldn’t bother her again, she squirmed around and examined her nightie. Without taking it off, she couldn’t see any damage, and didn’t feel like checking that badly out in the middle of the street.

  Fear battled with her need to help Genna. I am Maya Oman. The blueberries will do what I tell them. She sucked a breath in her nose and marched forward. It felt like she’d gone far enough to leave the Habitation District and enter the Dead Space, but the area hadn’t changed much. In the middle of the night though, she couldn’t tell if the buildings around her were occupied or abandoned. She felt like a squirrel lost amid a forest of high-rise concrete and glass. In every direction, tall buildings appeared endless. Only the light from the Sanctuary Zone provided any indication of direction. Nothing looked the least bit familiar, as best she could remember from her arrival here less than a week ago.

  Wind brushed her hair to the side, warm and tainted with the scents of the city. A wisp of food, a dash of urine, and a whole lot of wet dog smell. Maya felt surprised she didn’t gag on it and wondered if she’d already gotten used to this place. She yawned, but kept going, ignoring her increasing desire to run back and jump into the nice safe bed with her new best friend. More than fear, guilt at how Sarah would react to waking up alone almost changed her mind.

  The shadows danced and swayed around her. Fragments of conversations came from the dark, whispers carried on the breeze. Her rational side thought of vagrants, dosers, or gang thugs, but her child-brain conjured up images of magical creatures and monsters from the card game she’d been playing. She hurried up to a run until she found a gap where a missing high-rise let the moon paint the street in a brilliant ghostly light. Maya crouched behind a chunk of concrete, too frightened to step into the well-lit area lest some troll or bogeyman find her. An unseen object overhead scraped at stone in a rhythmic back and forth that kept time with the breeze. Her brain told her a giant winged reaper raked its scythe on the dead building, sharpening it for her.

  Maya let out a whimper of alarm and scurried off to the left. She navigated the shadows amid the rubble and sprinted away from the patch of moonlit street. Soon, she felt silly for being afraid of magical creatures, and slowed to a determined walk, punctuated with irresistible yawns.

  “Those things aren’t real. Like Emily’s faeries. They don’t exist. She wants to imagine them. I don’t. Get out of my brain. I’m not a silly little child who needs to make things up. I’m not afraid of―”

  Maya shrieked when a large alley cat shot out of the shadows in front of her and ran off back the way she’d come.

  Hands on her chest, she sank to her knees, shivering and trying to catch her breath.

  “Okay… maybe I am scared. But, I’m scared of the Authority. Not made-up monsters.”

  She hated
how the darkness felt alive. She hated being nine years old and having a child’s mind that couldn’t help but imagine things that didn’t exist. As much as she knew such creatures were impossible, she couldn’t shake the fear that one of them chased her.

  Two blocks later, the road glimmered with so much shattered glass and debris she had to turn left down a side street to avoid it. For once, she missed her high heels. Shitty shoes beat no shoes. Though, she couldn’t run in those… and out here, having to run away from something bad went beyond a maybe.

  The first opportunity to head north again took the form of an alley. At first, she didn’t pay much attention to the mountains of garbage all over the place, instead focusing on wherever she stepped to avoid glass, jagged shards of concrete, nails, or anything painful.

  Someone coughed.

  Maya froze again, looking around in the scant light that made it between the tall buildings. Along both sides of the alley, twenty or thirty boxes of various sizes had become shelters for men, women, and children. They all huddled under blankets of plastic tarps, some scraps of fabric, and slabs of plastiboard. There’s so many empty spots in our building. Why are these people out in the street?

  Many appeared to wear garments made of scrap cloth or plastic sheets. Some of the smallest―and one wrinkly old man―didn’t bother with even that. She spun right and left, horrified at the conditions these people lived in. A metal barrel topped with a grill held the skeletal remains of several rats as well as a shish kebab skewer of eight fat roaches.

  A child coughed, another murmured in their sleep. One man snored, a bizarre wet noise that echoed in the nocturnal stillness. Voices emanated from up ahead where a street crossed the alley. She crouched low at the corner of a crumbling building and peered around. A handful of men loitered in a group, though one with cherry red hair stood out as familiar.

  Maya gulped.

  They looked too far away to notice her if she moved slow. She got down on all fours and crawled past two cars and a broken concrete lane divider. When she reached the dark on the other side of the street, she jumped up and ran into an alley. From there, she headed east two blocks until the highway to the Sanctuary Zone came into view. The entire strip of road glowed with the light from countless Authority drones. Curfew existed even among Citizens, and the drones didn’t have any sense of sympathy. Not for a mugging victim only trying to get to a medical center, and certainly not for a little girl outside past bedtime.