Lucas wraps a hand around her arm and, shifting his weight, shoves her into the wall. “That stopped being an option when you broke into government property and—”
“Lucas!” Zechariah snarls.
He looks up in surprise, one hand still on Io’s arm. The younger man’s face is twisted with disgust.
(Condy stands in the front doorway, gloves in hand, and watches the scene in fascination, as if it is a play being put on for his benefit.)
“Is she homeless?” Zechariah demands.
Lucas looks from him to her, then back to him. “I think so?”
Something black writhes beneath his words: “Is that how you treat homeless people?”
Io tries to pull her arm free; Lucas’ grip reflexively turns to iron. “I haven’t hurt anybody!” she snaps. “I’m just—”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Lucas growls.
“—bad people! I just needed somewhere to sleep, and I didn’t think anyone would even notice!”
Zechariah steps closer, and his voice is low and dangerous. “Were you one of those cops who fucked with homeless people if he could get away with it?”
He looks offended. “I’m doing my goddamn job. You think that just because I let you tag along, you get to cop an attitude with me? She damaged government property—”
Io abruptly goes still, leaning against the wall. “Let go of my arms and I’ll explain. Please. I can’t stand being bound up. Please.”
Lucas slowly loosens his grip, then lets go of her and steps back.
She turns to face the three men, nursing her elbow. “I came in through the gate. It was open, so I thought it’d be okay.”
“It’s always open,” Lucas mutters.
“The truth is, I’m running away from some. . . some people. I’m, I’m still sorting through everything they did to me. And they control the cops — if not here, then higher up in the state. If anyone finds out I’m here, I’ll end up back where I started, or dead.”
Lucas tilts his head to one side. “What criminal organization has control of the police in Arkansas?”
“I can’t tell you much. I don’t know much. And anyway, the more you know, the more danger you’re in. It’d be better for everyone if I walk right back out that gate and you pretend you never saw me. I’m trying to disappear, and I’m doing a really bad job so far, but it’s my only option—”
“Your story is very light on detail.”
“Did you miss the part about ‘the more you know, the more danger you’re in’?”
“You can’t talk your way out of trouble over breaking the lock.”
Condy scoffs. “What, is that what you’re giving her a hard time over? I’ll pay for it.”
Io blinks at him. “I— What?”
Lucas’ teeth grind audibly. “Mr. Condy, please do not insert yourself into a situation that does not concern you.”
“You’ll have to forgive Luke,” the old man tells Io apologetically. “He wouldn’t know a damsel in distress if she landed on him.” He eyes the still-tense Zechariah. “Didn’t know you had a white-knight bone, though.”
The younger man grimaces, still watching Lucas. “She hasn’t hurt anyone. She was cold and had no place to go.”
“I’ll just leave,” Io offers, tugging her backpack’s straps nervously. “You’ll never see me again.”
“You don’t have to run off,” Condy points out. “I’ve got room in my trailer, if you need to rest. Hell, I’d appreciate the company.”
Lucas scoffs under his breath, then rubs his eyes. The truth is, he doesn’t want the girl on his conscience. Judging from her ridiculous story of corrupt cops and deadly secrets, she’s paranoid, unstable, and/or a compulsive liar. Kicking her out of the camp might not be best for her. Still, he can’t let her stay in a vacant trailer with a broken lock.
“Fine.” He shoots Condy a sour look, then returns his attention to Io. “I’ll allow Mr. Condy to pay for the damages, and I’ll report it as an accident on his part. And I’ll allow you to remain on-site, on several conditions.”
She nods. “Sure.”
“Since you are Mr. Condy’s guest, you must always remain in his company.”
“She’ll run screaming within an hour,” Condy protests mildly.
“You must obey all the rules and regulations of this site, with myself as final judge until the site administrator returns. I fully reserve the right to remove you from the site or call Shire PD—”
“Yeah, yeah, definitely. You won’t need to call anyone.”
“And finally, I’ll have to search your bag.”
Her eyes flare and she opens her mouth to argue — but then she glances at Condy, who is calmly shaking his head at her. “No getting out of that, huh?” she manages weakly.
“If you refuse, I’ll have all the more reason to call Shire PD.”
She weighs her options, then nods and starts to remove the backpack.
“Not here. Not enough light, and I don’t have the right forms with me.” Lucas gestures toward Condy, toward the door. “We’ll take you back to the community center.”
She nods and follows Zechariah and Condy outside. Lucas leaves last, watching Io for any sudden movements.
When they reach the golf cart, Lucas slides into the driver’s seat and tells her, “Shotgun.” She rushes to obey, settling her backpack in her lap as she sits down. Once Zechariah and Condy are in the rear-facing back seat and hanging on, Lucas carefully pulls back onto the road and turns around.
Io gives Condy a weak but grateful smile over her shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He leans closer and whispers, “I hate to think of you out here — it’s freezing! You can have my sofa for a few days.”
“I really appreciate it. I could use some time to think. I just have a bad habit of wearing out my welcome.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll be sick of me long before— Anyway, you live around here?”
She shakes her head quickly. “Just passing through.”
Lucas slides away from her a little on the bench seat. “Are you running a fever?”
“Nah, just warm-blooded.”
“I didn’t get your name,” Condy prods.
She puts a hand over the seat. “Io.”
“Cyrus Condy.” They shake, and he stares at her hand. “Wow, you’re like a walking toaster! Keeping the place heated will be easy, for once.”
“Zechariah.” The young man twists around to shake hands with her. “I’m Lucas’ assistant.”
The man scoffs loudly.
Io glances aside at him. “I hope I haven’t made a bad first impression, Officer . . . ?”
“Not an officer anymore. You can call me ‘Mr. de la Mora’ or ‘sir’.” He remains focused on the road ahead. “You’ll be provided with a list of site rules. Follow them and I’ll have no further problem with you or even need to interact with you, at least until the admin gets back.” They reach the end of the row and he changes lanes, aiming for the little parking lot in front of the warehouse-like community building. “Mr. Condy, I’d like to have a word with you before we go in.”
They roll to a stop next to the community center’s double-door entrance, and the old man dismounts first, grumbling about the cold.
Lucas slides smoothly out of the cart and steps away, lowering his voice so that the others won’t overhear.
Io steps out and finds Zechariah waiting. Of the four, she is the shortest and he the tallest, so she barely comes to his armpit. She has to crane her neck to see his pale face.
He stares down at her chest for a moment, then meets her eyes. “Shapeshifter.”
She looks startled, then glances down at the happy chameleon cartoon on her shirtfront. “Oh. Haha. Yeah. It’s, uh, my favorite animal. I saw this shirt and thought, ‘whoo, gotta have it’.”
“Were you in Gothic during the Disaster?”
“N-no, I’m from out of state.” Hurriedly, “So, what do you do for fu
n around here?”
He shrugs. “Smoke pot. If you come by around dinnertime tonight, after I’m done helping Lucas, I’ll smoke you out. You look like you could use a break.”
Io’s face lights up, and she cracks a smile. “I might take you up on that!”
Meanwhile, Condy gives Lucas a disgusted look. “You think I’m some kind of pervert? It just so happens that I have a soft spot for a young lady in trouble. Have a heart — she slept the whole night in that icebox!”
“So you’re not planning on—”
“I plan to feed her, let her get some sleep, and then see her on her way. Hell, she can have the bed; I sleep at my computer half the time, anyway. If it were up to me, she could stay in an empty trailer with heat, but you apparently have your thumb jammed so far up your ass—”
Lucas holds up a hand in surrender, already regretting his question. “Thank you for that reassurance.” He turns back to the others. “Let’s get a move-on. I have a patrol to finish after this.”
They follow him to the community center’s main entrance, a set of double doors. Lucas unlocks and shoves them open, revealing a dark indoor basketball court. It’s surprisingly warm inside; the men unzip or unbutton their coats as they enter, and Io pulls hers off. Lucas opens the fuse box and twists his key; overhead lights click on. Half the great room is filled with folding chairs and tables, left over after a recent community event.
Io follows him to the right-hand wall, where restrooms, a custodial closet, and a laundry facility are housed. One door is labelled ‘AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY’; Lucas unlocks it and leads her into an office with two desks.
He flicks on the light and sits down at one of the desks, clearing away papers. “Let’s see the backpack.”
She swallows and takes it off, sets it on the table. “Just clothes, really.”
Lucas opens the backpack and dumps it onto the table. Condy hovers in the doorway, infinitely curious about such a mundane inspection; Zechariah leans against the wall and observes with arms crossed and a faint scowl.
Io stands before the table, hands shoved into her pockets, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “What’s the news on the quarantine, anyway?” she asks, watching Lucas take notes as he looks through her sweatshirts and jeans.
Condy grunts unhappily. “They said six months. That was nine months ago. Could go either way, at this point — or could go no way at all. We might still be here years from now, if FEMA decides they don’t want to pay for everyone to be rehomed.”
Lucas glances up at him, lips pressed into a line — then returns his attention to noting the torn-open bag of sports bras he’s just found. “Zechariah, there should be a print-out of the site rules in that cabinet.”
The younger man sorts through a drawer for a moment, then hands her a sheet of paper. “Pretty simple stuff. Clean up after yourself, don’t steal, and don’t hit anyone, especially kids. Not that there are any left. All the parents gave up hope and moved. Now it’s mostly old folks.”
Condy shoots him a lopsided grin. “What can I say? I liked my house, and would dearly love to go back to it.” He looks at Io. “There’s a little town near here, Shire. Grocery store, library, not much else. If you don’t feel like waiting for the bus like me, Officer Hardass might give you a ride if you ask nicely and he’s already headed that way.”
“I’d rather never go into that hick town again, if I can help it,” Lucas mutters. He leans back and rubs at his eyes. “Ah, Zechariah, do the Americorp volunteers come tonight or tomorrow morning?”
“Tonight. Why?”
“I’m thinking about calling that TV station out of Fort Smith, seeing if they’ll send someone up to do a story. Everyone will be telling the volunteers about problems in the site, so why not tell the reporters, too? Maybe we could remind people that we’re still stuck here waiting for answers.”
Condy snaps his fingers. “That’s a fine idea. You should make a statement, too.”
“Oh, I’m planning on it.”
Io leans forward, inching a hand toward her clothes. “Are we done?”
“Back up. I’ve only done one pocket.” He opens the backpack’s second, larger section, glances inside, then upends it and dumps its contents across the desk. Out spill a handful of protein bars and bottle after bottle of purified water, a few of which bounce and roll to the floor.
Something heavy is lodged in the bottom of the backpack; he shakes it vigorously. Out drops a black mace with a smooth head the size of a softball. It hits the desk almost hard enough to dent it, and rolls a little.
Lucas immediately looks up at Io, his brown face hawk-like. “You said you didn’t have any weapons.”
“It’s just a toy.” She hunches her shoulders and stares at the floor. “A, um, personal toy.”
Condy bursts out laughing. “A runaway with a vibrator? Now I’ve seen everything!”
Zechariah presses his back to the wall and stares hard at the mace. “What’s the switch on the handle do?”
“Oh, kid, kid,” Condy snickers. “There’s Arkansan sex ed for you. That switch activates it.” He emphasizes the word with air quotes and a smirk.
Lucas nudges the handle with the side of his hand and watches the object roll. There’s an inscription on the head, in little silver letters: #001 MJOLNIR.
Meanwhile, Condy’s teasing has turned Io’s dark skin a furious pink. “I’ll put it back,” she offers, stepping forward.
Lucas shakes his head. “Turn it on.”
She freezes with her hand on the mace’s grip. “What?”
He leans back and stares up at her. “I don’t believe you. So turn it on.”
She gulps. “I mean, come on. This is already embarrassing. You’ve gone through my clothes, you’ve made a mess of my—”
“I have to make sure you’re not bringing a weapon onto this site. A little embarrassment won’t kill you. Turn. It. On.”
She draws her hand back, leaving the mace on the table, and looks desperately to the other two men. Zechariah can do nothing but stare at the strange object. Condy heaves a dramatic sigh and steps forward, plucks a tissue from the box on a nearby shelf. Using the tissue as a hand shield, he grips the handle, picks up the mace — finds it surprisingly heavy — and flicks the switch.
Wide slits open in the head of the mace, revealing a glowing blue orb trapped inside. Io backs toward the doorway, and Zechariah averts his eyes, but Lucas and Condy freeze, transfixed by the beautiful, slowly-shifting light.
“This is a vibrator?” Condy mutters, turning it slowly and watching as the orb’s contents shift and swirl. “For who? God?”
Lucas slowly rises to his feet and takes the object from Condy, not bothering with the tissue. His voice is low, almost reverent. “Where did you get this?”
Io watches them from the doorway, trying desperately to look casual. “You guys must not get internet out here, or something. Fine, it’s not a sex thing. You use them at raves. People like to take E and stare into them. I figured you wouldn’t approve. But as you can see, I don’t have any drugs. Just a rave toy.”
He makes to bang it on the table, but she adds, “Very delicate! That’s glass. Seriously, you want to be super gentle with it when it’s open. Please. It’s the most valuable thing I’ve ever owned. Please be careful!”
Zechariah rushes to the doorway and shoves past Io, giving her a horrified look on his way out. She frowns after him, startled.
Lucas draws a deep breath and switches the device closed again. “It sure as hell isn’t a weapon, or at least, not like any weapon I’ve ever seen. But . . . I should confiscate this. I don’t know on what grounds, but I should.”
Condy heaves a sympathetic sigh. “If only we lived in a dystopian police state where you had the authority to steal people’s toys.”
“Touché.” He carefully slides it back into her backpack. “I’ll allow you to keep this, Miss . . .”
“Io. Just Io.”
He squeezes his teeth together for
a moment, then exhales. “If I find out that this is a weapon—”
“You don’t have any reason to fear it,” she insists, stepping closer and helping him shove items back into her bag.
Condy yawns wide and stretches his arms. “Let’s get some breakfast, kid.”
She shoulders the backpack’s straps and nods. “See you later, Officer.”
Lucas waves vaguely and watches the two leave. Zechariah slips back in, eyeing the backpack warily as they pass.
“We need to keep an eye on that one,” Lucas says quietly. “She’s already lied to us multiple times.”
The younger man smirks. “Women lie all the time.”
“My years of sensitivity training warn me not to comment. How about you get the mail, and we head back out on patrol?”
He plucks the keys off the desk and disappears out the door, headed for the rows of mailboxes outside, near the gate. Lucas remains in the office, alone, enjoying a rare moment of peace. Less than half an hour into the day, and already he wants to put a bullet in his—
His mobile rings.
He groans softly and fishes it out, glances at the screen — and does a double-take.
‘Quarantine Director’.
He has only ever received one call from this number before. Adding it to his address book seemed very important at the time.
He hurriedly answers. “Hello?”
The man on the other end is deep-voiced and polite. “Is this Mr. de la Mora, of the Mount Ward EGS?”
“This is he.” Lucas leans forward and grabs a notepad from the desk, flips to a clean page. “The last time I received a call from this number, it was a woman.”
“That was the previous director. I’m afraid there’s recently been a changing of the guard. From now on, I will be your contact in the Quarantine Zone.”
“I see.” Awkward pause. “And your name is . . . ?”
“I have no idea how long I will be able to keep this position, given the circumstances. It would be better if you simply call me ‘The Director’.”
Lucas grimaces to himself. “And to what do I owe this call? Something tells me you’re not just saying ‘hello’, like your predecessor.”
New Night (Gothic Book 2) Page 2