Snowburn

by E J Frost

spare. No sign of the monster. Or of Kez’s

  brother.

  The sound of laughter from one of the

  other rooms. Ape and the monster appear,

  walking side by side. The monster has her

  arm through Ape’s. Ape’s drinking out of a

  plaz bulb as he walks. He looks relaxed. His

  skin’s whole.

  If he so much as smiles at us, I’m going to

  flay him myself.

  “Kezra! And Mister . . . Snow. So glad

  you could join us. And right on time, too.

  You know how I adore punctuality.”

  I give her a hard stare before lowering

  Kez to the floor. The bandage around Kez’s

  arm is soaked through. She’s so pale she

  looks blue. I kneel next to her, prop her up on

  her backpack. Push her bangs back from her

  face. “Hang in there,” I tell her.

  “What happened?” Ape drops down on

  his knees next to his sister.

  “Fucking rats weren’t happy with the

  price. Or the mark,” I say as I take out the

  bandages and newskin. “Gimme that. She

  needs fluids.” I take the plaz bulb from him.

  Hold it for Kez to drink from. She drains it

  dry in a couple of gulps.

  “They have lost all sense of honor,” the

  monster says.

  “They’re starving,” Kez says weakly.

  “You have plenty.” She nods at the empty

  bulb. “Why don’t you share with them?”

  “With vermin? Why? So they can spread?

  So they can breed? No, Kezzy. There are

  two ways to deal with rats. Poison them or

  starve them out. Poison didn’t work. They

  smelled it.” That would explain the rotting

  meat stink in the tunnels. The monster

  continues, “So we’ve tried Plan B. And it

  seems to be working rather well.”

  “It almost got me killed,” Kez hisses.

  Ignoring their argument, I peel off the

  bloody bandage and press my thumb against

  the wound. While I’m applying pressure, Kez

  loops her other arm around my neck and

  slowly pulls herself into my lap. I help her,

  tucking her into my chest, folding her injured

  arm between us.

  “If someone like me dies down here, the

  Deeps will close,” Kez says. “No one will

  come.”

  The monster purses her mirrored lips.

  “That would be a pretty major problem

  with Plan B,” I observe.

  The monster regards us in stony silence.

  I check the wound again. Barely oozing. I

  give it a fresh spray of newskin and rewrap

  it. Toss Kez’s backpack and the tether for the

  box to Ape. Then I climb slowly to my feet,

  lifting Kez in my arms as I rise. “Let’s go.”

  “I can walk,” she murmurs.

  “Now’s not the time to find out.” Not

  around all these predators.

  She puts her arms around my shoulders,

  turns her face into my neck. It’s freezing in

  the Snatchers’ tunnels, but her skin feels

  clammy against mine. “Wait,” she whispers.

  I stop, adjust her in my arms.

  “You opened the door for a name,” she

  says, turning her head towards Penny.

  “A dead man’s name. Or so the stars

  say.”

  “He stays dead. Silence for silence. You

  don’t repeat that name and I don’t tell anyone

  what happened here. The Deeps stay open.

  Deal?”

  The monster’s silent for a long moment.

  Finally, she says, “Deal.”

  “Goodbye, Penny,” Kez says, turning her

  face back into my neck.

  “Goodbye, Kezzy,” the monster says.

  “Goodbye, Mister Snow. Goodbye, my hairy

  Ape Man. See you soon.”

  I don’t wait to hear anymore. Don’t want

  to think about what the monster and Ape have

  been doing while Kez has been bleeding. I

  turn and carry Kez out of the Snatchers’ den

  before anyone else tries to hurt her. Ape

  trails behind us, dropping a little further back

  with each step as I find my stride, settle Kez

  more comfortably in my arms, until by the

  time we’re back to the escalator, he’s just a

  bobbing point of light back in the tunnel.

  I step onto the escalator, readjust Kez so

  that the handrails help me support her

  weight. My biceps are burning, but it’s not

  far now to the exit. Then I’ll have to figure

  out something else. I don’t think I can carry

  her the two klicks to the ship.

  “You made one mistake,” I tell Kez as the

  escalator carries us steadily upwards.

  She snorts softly into my neck. “I think I

  made about fifty, starting with taking this

  run.”

  “You gave away a pretty big chip there at

  the end. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “You gave your . . . that name, to save my

  brother. Although it didn’t look like he

  needed saving.” She shakes her head.

  “Protecting it was the least I could do.”

  When I don’t say anything, taken aback by

  this unexpected show of loyalty, she asks

  softly. “Who . . . was he?”

  “Butcher of Tje Dhos. You never heard

  of him?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Lucky you,” I say. Earth Authority

  splashed my name and face all over the

  flashes for weeks, just to make sure no one

  would ever believe me, if I decided to talk.

  Not that I ever did. Kuseros is a pretty

  backwater Colony, but it still gets Core

  System flash, so either Kez wasn’t paying

  attention when Earth Authority fucked me, or

  it’s such old news she doesn’t remember it.

  “It scared her, that name. Penny doesn’t

  spook easy.”

  “Death used to follow him. Pretty close.

  Sometimes quick, sometimes slow. Always

  ugly. You really never heard of him?”

  “No.” She’s silent for a moment. Trying

  to remember, maybe. “How did he die?”

  “He outed Tol Seng . . .”

  “No one escapes from Tol Seng,” she

  says quietly.

  “Yeah, well, there’s a first for

  everything. He broke out. Hid on a guard

  transport heading to Yrillo. Maybe he died

  when the transport crashed in the middle of

  fucking nowhere. Maybe he died afterwards

  when the guards went bug-nuts from lack of

  oxygen. There are different stories.”

  “Are any of them true?”

  “Probably not.”

  Kez is silent for a while. As we near the

  top of the escalator, she says, “So that’s the

  only thing you think I did wrong?”

  I chuckle. She’s still seeking approval. I

  like that. “Was there anythin’ else?”

  “Everything,” she sighs. “This run’s been

  totally fucked. I haven’t had to fight my way

  out . . . in a long time. I haven’t heard a

  whisper about the Pack squeezing the

  Snatchers, or the Snatchers trying to starve

  out the Pack.
But it must have been going on

  a while. I could have brought food. I usually

  do. If I’d just had some food to offer them,

  that whole mess could have been avoided. It

  was just . . . Penny sounded so definite when

  I spoke to her. She definitely had the

  package. Definitely would hold onto it until

  midnight. Definitely would give it to me for

  two hundred and a little grease. But she must

  have been lying through her fucking steel

  teeth the whole time. The Pack always had it,

  and she never negotiated with them. They’re

  at war.” She bumps her head against my

  shoulder. “Now I’m fucked with the Pack.

  That one who spoke for them, the white one,

  he won’t forget this. Fuck.”

  “Anything you can do to fix it?”

  “Other than turning you over to them?”

  She looks up at me.

  “Yeah, other than that.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. The Pack’s

  pretty secretive. No one knows what they

  want. That might be why I haven’t heard

  anything about this war with the Snatchers.

  It’s not like no one would side with the Pack,

  if they knew. Penny and her boys have made

  plenty of enemies over the years. And there

  are other tribes the Pack could call on. The

  Deep Whites on the SoBo. They’d help.”

  “If it’s a turf war, they gotta show they’re

  strong enough to take the territory on their

  own. Otherwise, they’ll never hold it.”

  “You’re right,” she murmurs. “Are you,

  uh, are you going to put me down?”

  We’ve reached the top of the escalator.

  No sign of her bladed buddy. Looks like a

  clear exit and then two klicks through the

  Kuus streets to my ship. Can I carry her that

  far? My biceps are saying no. But I’m

  tempted to give it a try anyway. While I’m

  carrying her, she can’t get into any trouble.

  “No,” I grunt.

  She shifts in my arms and hugs my neck

  tight. “Thank you for carrying me this far. I

  can walk from here. Seriously. I’m not going

  to try boarding.” She gives a shaky laugh.

  “But I’m okay to walk.”

  I lower her to the ground reluctantly.

  Keep my arm around her as she gets her legs

  under her. She does look better, although the

  circles around her eyes are deeper than ever.

  She rubs her chest like it hurts.

  “You okay?”

  “I’ll survive.” She rolls her neck until it

  pops. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I glance back down the escalator. Ape’s

  about two-thirds of the way up. “You want to

  wait for him.”

  She nods. “He’s only been to Kuus a few

  times. I don’t want him to get lost.”

  “How often d’you come here?”

  “Less than I used to. I had a regular run

  up the Valley.” She fiddles with one of her

  dreads. “It got too hot so I let the NoBos

  undercut me.”

  I nod. I’ve let a few of my competitors do

  the same thing. Saves face rather than

  refusing a contract.

  “I don’t think I’ll be coming back anytime

  soon—”

  She’s interrupted by the arrival of her

  brother, who takes one look at her standing

  on her own power and tries to hand her the

  backpack. “Why do I have to carry

  everything?” he grumbles.

  I intercept the bag and sling it over my

  shoulder. Hold my hand out for the box’s

  tether. “Fucking infant.”

  Kez ignores his whining. “Ape, get on

  your board. Stay within a block of us.

  Seriously, this is not the night for wandering

  off.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Her brother pulls his

  board out of its harness, flicks it on and

  mounts up. He swoops around the empty

  station several times before zooming up the

  stairs to the street.

  “I can take the box if you want,” Kez

  offers.

  “Don’t trust me?”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s not like

  that.”

  “You’ll move faster if you’re not

  dragging anything.” Although the floating box

  is not difficult to manage, it is one more thing

  to pull along while she’s already having

  trouble moving under her own steam. “Let’s

  go.”

  “Okay.” She smiles at me and sets off. By

  the time we’re half-way up the stairs, she’s

  taking them two at a time. When we reach the

  street, she breaks into a jog.

  “You sure you’re up to this?”

  “I’ll slow down if I feel sick again.”

  “Gut-sick?” She’s lost a decent amount of

  blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s

  queasy.

  “A little. Nothing like when we were in

  the tunnels. I thought I was going to puke all

  over the Snatchers’ clock.”

  “That’d rust the fucker fast.”

  She grins at me and we jog along in

  silence for a while, the glow-beads in her

  hair lighting the way through the quiet streets.

  “How’re you doing?” I ask her once

  we’re past the half-way point. The

  spaceport’s lights are bright up ahead, but

  there’s still a lot of dark street between here

  and there.

  “I’m okay.” She sounds short of breath,

  but her stride is solid.

  We jog on for a few more meters when

  something in her backpack buzzes.

  “Kez—”

  “I heard it. Civil Patrol. We need to get

  off the street. Here.” She ducks into an

  entranceway. I follow her into what looks

  like a hover service center. She weaves

  between large pieces of machinery. Ducks

  down into a dark corner. She quickly

  assembles her viewie and taps her brother’s

  picture. “Ape, C.P. Get off the street.”

  I pull a drop cloth off one of the machines

  and throw it over the box to cover the lights.

  Crouch down next to Kez. The light from her

  hair winks out. Her hand steals into mine.

  Her skin’s clammy.

  “You wanted?” I whisper to her. She’s

  been awfully bold for someone wanted by

  the Kuus badges.

  “No, but if they see us on the street this

  late, they’re going to want to know what

  we’re doing. They might search the box,

  which would be hard to explain. Or my

  backpack. Some things in there would be

  harder to explain. Either way, they’d

  probably take us in for questioning, which

  would mean missing the drop. Hard night for

  nothing.”

  “Yeah.”

  She’s quiet for a few seconds, during

  which I hear the whir of neg cells in the

  distance. A Civil Patrol hover. I shift further

  back into the shadows.

  “Um . . . should I still call you Snow?

  Sorry, what was your first name?”

  “Hale.” No one
but the parents I barely

  remember has ever called me by my full

  name. “Call me Snow.”

  She clears her throat. “Snow, if we get

  caught—”

  “Yeah?” I can’t afford to be. Even in this

  backwater Colony, standard operating

  procedure will include a DNA check, and if

  they run it through any central register, it will

  ring most wanted bells from here to the Core

  System. If Civil Patrol comes into our little

  hideout, they won’t be walking back out.

  “If they catch us, I’ll go with them,” she

  says. “They’ve got nothing real on me.

  They’ll hold me overnight maybe. You take

  the package to New Brunny—”

  I squeeze her hand. “Something I learned

  over the years? It’s the rabbits that get

  caught. An’ what do rabbits do?”

  “Hop?” she whispers.

  “They run. Be patient. They’ll go by, then

  we move.”

  “Rabbits freeze, you know.” I can hear

  her mischievous grin in her whisper. “Isn’t

  that what we’re doing?”

  “Quiet, smartass.”

  A search-light flicks across the windows,

  briefly illuminating her face. The shadows

  around her eyes are so deep, her face looks

  like a skull. I can feel her hand shaking in

  mine. Adrenaline crash. I wait until the

  searchlight passes, and the whine of the

  floater’s neg cells fades into the distance,

  before I ask, “Kez, how you doin’?”

  “I’m going to sleep for a month after this

  is over.”

  “C’mon, we’re almost there.” That’s not

  entirely true, but we’re over half-way now. I

  lead her to the entrance, scout the street.

  Looks clear. Time for the moment of truth.

  I step out into the street. Nothing happens.

  No light hits me. No voice booms at me to

  stop. I tug the box after me, and when she’s

  slow to follow, Kez. She’s not up to running,

  not even at the pace we were going. She

  walks okay for a few hundred meters, then

  stumbles. I loop my arm around her and

  support her the rest of the way to the docks.

  Ape is waiting for us at the spaceport

  entrance, leaning against the plaz barrier and

  twirling his float board between his left foot

  and hand. Cocky chimp. He hooks a thumb at

  the A-Eye guarding the gate. “They won’t let

  me in.”

  “Told you, there’s a curfew.” I pass him

  the box’s tether to free up a hand. Keep hold

  of his sister while I fish Snow’s Multi out of

  a pocket in my fatigues. A swipe of the little

  fob across the A-Eye’s beady red viewie and