Turning, I darted back down the hallway to the safe room and tapped on the door, giving the same sequence Darby had just used. As I waited for him to unlock it, I decided we weren’t going to six. It was too far.
I had someplace closer in mind.
Darby cracked the door. “All clear?”
“For now,” I said. “But we have to move. The light is blinking. Something must be up.” I edged the door open with my shoulder, nodding at Daze to don his helmet, which he did quickly. Judging by his face, he was relieved to see I’d come back. Darby was as smart as they came, but didn’t know tactics for shit. Following Darby across a steel beam twelve stories up must not have sounded appetizing.
Good, the kid had learned something valuable.
Daze hurried to my side, his helmet sliding sideways. His hands made the correction before it slipped completely off. “I heard a noise.”
“Where?”
Daze gestured behind him. “Out that window.”
I slid into the room. “Turn off your lights.” Both Daze and Darby complied. I made my way to the edge, kneeling, moving debris away to clear a space. I reached out and clasped the cold wet cable with a gloved hand and tilted my head out. We were too far up to hear anybody who might be maneuvering in the canal below. They didn’t use boats, per se. More like makeshift rafts.
Then I heard it.
It was a light schick-schick of propellers. That meant it was nongovernmental. The ones the government used were big and loud. You could hear them rattling a kilometer away.
“Is it a UAC?” Daze whispered from behind me.
I stood. “Yep.” The small ones weren’t easy to detect. “And it’s private. I haven’t seen a privately operated one in these parts since the last time we flew ours.” I nodded at Darby. “Have you?”
“Nope. Only two other groups have them that I know of,” he answered. “None of them operate in the canals.”
Why would they? Nothing to see here.
Unmanned aerial craft had been prevalent before the dark days. People used them for everything, including deliveries, surveillance, and protection. They came in all shapes and sizes and were so easy to use that a two-year-old could launch one and keep it in the sky. They ran by satellite-connected computer programs. Every caste had them.
Because of this, the dark city should have been littered with drone parts.
Except, directly after the impact, the government had asked early survivors to round up all the mechanical parts they could find—not only UACs, but also any remaining parts from robots or machines in general, including all 3-D printers. That was back when the government compensated people for contributing to the common good.
A few years ago, I’d been lucky enough to find a UAC with a working laser, which meant it’d been military grade. It was pretty badass. It resembled a small plane rather than a four-propped drone. We all agreed not to launch it in the city, as we didn’t want to call attention to it unless we were under incredible threat, which thankfully hadn’t happened yet. But we’d had some fun flying it in the scrub twenty kilometers outside city limits. Some of those trees had holes ripped through them the size of a barrel.
“What does private mean?” Daze asked.
“It means someone other than the government is interested in us, which is never a good thing. This day keeps getting better and better,” I grumbled as I stood, making my way toward the door. “New plan, we’re heading to Mirabel. We need to exit this area before that drone picks up our heat signatures.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Are you sure you want to go to Mirabel, Hol?” Darby’s expression was a cross between shock and curiosity. “Six is not that far.”
“Yep. Let’s move.” Mirabel was one of my three private residences inside the city limits—at least the ones that were set up for everyday living. I had more spaces that I used as storage facilities and makeshift safe houses in a pinch.
Unlike one through seventeen, which were our shared, monitored safe places, Mirabel was mine alone, just as Darby had his own, and Claire, Bender, and Lockland had their own. I’d frequented Claire’s and Bender’s private residences. Claire lived in government-issued housing, since she worked for them, so nothing to hide there. And Bender’s doubled as his workshop, where he was a sought-after mechanic and general wizard when it came to fixing gadgetry. Everyone in the entire city took what they needed repaired to his doorstep, which was how I’d stumbled on him coming up on nineteen years ago.
A long story with a fairly happy ending.
But I’d never been to Darby’s or Lockland’s residences. And no one had ever been inside Mirabel.
This was one weird day. It would forever be known as the day I scrambled my brain and got a kid.
Daze and Darby trotted after me down the hallway. Darby began to pant almost immediately. “Is your residence close by?” he huffed.
“Not used to aerobic exercise, huh, Darby?” I smiled. “It’s only two buildings away.” At the end, instead of heading out a window to another crossbeam, I pushed open a door, jamming my shoulder into it to clear the huge pile of trash that I’d heaped against it the last time I’d used this route. The stairwell was dark. “Head over to your right and grab on to the railing.” I shut the door and kicked the pile of junk back against it. It made a clatter. “The trash will thin out the higher we go.” There was less ambient light in here than in the hallway. Once the garbage was sufficiently stacked—enough to blockade a random seeker—I made my way to where the guys stood. “I’ll take the lead. Don’t get too far behind. Daze, want me to get out the cord?”
“No.”
Good.
I had to boost myself over the initial heap of debris, and we began to climb.
“Lockland is going to be worried when he sees we went off radar,” Darby said as he tripped over a pile and swore, barely catching himself before he tumbled backward.
“Be careful,” I warned. “It gets worse as we go, but then eventually clears.” I crossed the first landing and started up again. “Three more levels and we can turn on our lights. All the doors the rest of the way up are secured. And, yes, Lockland will be wondering where we went. When we hit Mirabel, I’ll let him know.”
We traversed three more flights without mishap.
Once at the top, I snapped on both my shoulder lights. Blue lit up the space.
“That’s a lot of garbage.” Darby glanced around. He was right. It was everywhere.
“It keeps the seekers away.” I shrugged. “They can’t be bothered to pick their way through the stuff, so it works like a charm.” The next few flights went slower as we made our way through even bigger piles, heaping so high that the steps were no longer visible.
“How many stories are like this?” Darby gripped the railing with both hands and hauled himself up as his feet tried to find purchase in the muck. The organic refuse had become dirtlike from decomposition over the years, aided by the constant wet environment. The rest of the chunks were metal and other nonbiodegradables.
It was a pile of nastiness.
The only good thing was it’d been so many years that it no longer carried a strong stench. The only bad thing was the noise. Once it was displaced, it tumbled all over the place, making a hell of a racket.
“Two,” I called over my shoulder, glancing back to make sure Daze was okay. Kid was pulling himself up, hand over hand, using the railing like a rope, much more efficiently than Darby was.
Static erupted from inside my pocket.
Lockland was trying to figure out where we’d gone.
“One more to go,” I told them as I plucked my phone out of my vest. I depressed the button twice, with the right number of pauses in between, letting him know we were fine, then stuffed it back in.
We rounded the top, and Darby came level with me on the landing, his chest heaving with effort. “How are we crossing to the next building?” he asked. “This is higher up than I usually go.”
“A cable swing,” I answer
ed casually.
“You can’t be serious,” Darby said, wheezing.
“Totally,” I replied. “It’s actually one of my favorite ways to get around, especially in the canals. I’ve never been a fan of the steel-beam route.”
“We don’t use cable swings on our usual routes,” he said. “Because they’re too hard to attach, and they’ve been known to break. One bad swing and it’s goodbye life.”
“Not the way I do it. And stop scaring the kid.” If I peered at Daze right now, the expression he’d be wearing would be a cross between worry and eye-popping fear.
“All this time,” Darby huffed, “and you’re a cable swinger. I always took you for a jetty.”
“Jet packs and hoverboards are too loud.” Once upon a time, I’d seen a picture of a bicycle with a short description of how people used to use them. Jet packs and hoverboards were a good equivalent. But they weren’t practical anymore. They ran on battery, coupled with liquid fuel, which was hard to find.
“True,” Darby said. “But I’ve been working on a design to operate one solely on battery power.” His tone became thoughtful. “But as of right now, the battery is too big, and the drag makes it too dangerous, even with extra props.”
“Jetties were heavy to begin with.” And cumbersome. The ever-present drizzle pattered on our helmets, as the stairwell roof had become completely open to the elements. “Kill the lights and stay here while I take a look. Nobody should be up here, because none of my traps have been tripped, but I want to double-check. Not to mention, make sure that UAC is nowhere nearby.” I flipped off my shoulder lights. “And, Darby, can you do me a favor? Don’t scare the kid by relaying horrible stories about death by cable swing.”
“Not even one?” Darby asked. “Remember that guy—what was his name? Thom with an H? Or maybe it was Strohm with an H? He used to love cable swings until that time he jumped—”
“Cut it out.” I slashed my hand down in a warning, trying not to chuckle. “Now is not the time for you to make nice with your verbal skills. Keep your lips zipped and stay put. I’ll be right back.” I slipped out onto the roof, carefully stepping over a wire. I had trip wires all over the place, in addition to other things to help keep me safe. Booby traps were essential in our dark world. You had to know if anybody had gone before you.
I made my way to a shallow dome of mangled and twisted building struts and eased off my helmet, cocking my head to listen. There were tons of places to hide on the top of this building. Some buildings were laid bare, clear of any leftover building material, others were half sheared, leaving behind tall exposed beams, rebar, ceiling tiles, and other convenient places to tuck yourself away.
The air was free of any noise other than the never-ending drip of precip. Private drones were extremely rare. If this Tandor guy was behind the UAC searching for us, he wasn’t kidding around. He’d hired me to find Daze, no mention of getting his valuable quantum drive back. There’d been an address for me to return the kid to, but now I knew all of it was bogus. He’d sent someone out to track me and the kid. When the Q7 went back empty-handed, they must’ve suspected that I’d taken the boy with me.
For Tandor to flaunt his technology showed his hand. He had access to a private UAC, a Q7, a quantum drive, and the ever-elusive pico. That meant he was heavily armed and thought he was smarter than the rest of us, likely undefeatable. That wasn’t typical for a band of ragtag outskirts. They were usually sloppy and had access to lower tech.
When I was positive I couldn’t hear any props, I reached into my pocket and drew out my chromoscope glasses. The thick lens allowed me to see X-rays, ultraviolet rays, gamma rays—basically any and all rays. I scanned the top of the building, turning in a full circle, my finger clicking the lever as I went. It was habit to check all wavelengths of the spectrum. Explosives, and the like, each had different color signatures in different wavelengths.
All clear.
I tucked the chromes back in my pocket and settled my helmet back in place. Then I went to retrieve the guys, motioning them out, while gesturing down at the wire.
They both stepped over it and followed me soundlessly toward the far corner of the roof. Daze was going to have to ride with me. There was no other way. I’d never gone two on a cable swing before, but I didn’t have time to train him right now. It was a tricky thing to learn.
“Daze, we’re going to watch Darby swing, then you and I go. There’s nothing to be worried about.” I stood on my tiptoes and unhooked the heavy cable attached to a mangled girder that jutted out high above the chasm in between the buildings. It’d taken me a week of hard work to get it secured exactly right. I’d risked my life shimmying up the girder in the rain, but it’d been worth it.
I walked toward Darby with the thing in my hand.
He took a step back, his hands going up in a surrender pose. “Whoa, the last time I was on one of these was when I was fifteen and running for my life. I’m not sure I can do this.” He glanced cautiously toward the other building.
I continued forward, nonplussed. “My swings don’t fail.” I reached into a pocket and pulled out my mag-hold. A ten-centimeter-long titanium tube with a hella strong magnet at each end. I attached it to the bottom of the cable. It suctioned on to the steel with a loud thunking sound. The only way to break the seal was by rotating the integrated air lever on the top. “Do you want to ride sitting or standing?”
“Sitting.” His voice was resigned.
I looped the cable under his ass and stuck the other end of the mag-hold on to a section of cable above his head, creating a large, sturdy loop. “All you have to do is flick the air lever, rotate it forward, exactly two seconds after the next roof comes into view. It’s easy. Remember to grab hold of the cable once you’re down, then swing it back. And I don’t have to remind you, Darby, there is no other way.” I physically maneuvered him one hundred and eighty degrees around, directing him to the edge. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Make sure you get sufficient momentum. Worst thing that can happen is you idle between the two buildings, but I can get you back. I have a hook, and if I have to break it out, I will.”
Darby leaned backward, angling his body to get a decent takeoff, and bounced, propelling himself off the side.
Five seconds later, he crossed onto the next roof.
The buildings were roughly twenty meters apart. I held my breath for the merest of seconds, willing him to unclip in time.
He did, dropping below the battered lip of the building. It was convenient that both of these buildings had been sheared off at about the same height. He stood, albeit a little wobbly, and walked to the edge, sending the cable back with a thrust of his arm.
I leaned over, gripping the girder next to me, snatching the cable back with a gloved hand. My hand coverings had micro-silia built into the fingertips to allow for gripping smooth surfaces in the rain. I turned to Daze. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“But…how are we going to do that together?” he asked. I was surprised to hear curiosity in his voice instead of fear. It seemed Daze preferred this way of travel better than the rafter route.
“I’m going to put it around my behind like so”—I showed him—“making sure it’s super secure.” I clipped it in a big loop around me and demonstrated that it wouldn’t come apart. “And you’re going to get on my back and hold on tight.”
He shook his head. “If I do that, you might not be able to unclip, because I’ll be in the way.”
The urchin had a point.
I glanced down. I might be able to unclip, but Daze’s legs could interfere with the success of the operation. “I suppose you could sit on my lap.” I released the mag-hold and lifted it up higher to create a big enough loop for us both to fit through.
Daze shook his head again. “That’s just asking for trouble. You won’t be able to reach the top if I’m on your lap.”
I grinned. “So what’s it gonna be, kid?”
“I’ll ride by my
self.”
I raised my eyebrows, which he couldn’t see from inside the helmet, but they were up nonetheless. “That’s pretty big talk from a boy who’s never used a cable swing before. Think you can handle it?”
He tugged off his helmet and handed it to me. “I’ve never used one this big,” he boasted. “But the street kids have all kinds of these all over the city.”
“Well, then.” I moved forward, cinching the cable under his skinny body and attaching the mag-hold much lower than I had for Darby. “I’m making the loop big for a reason. Instead of unclipping, just slide out.” The air lever took some strength to flick. Daze sat on the cable, testing it. “Grab the top here with both hands,” I instructed, “and don’t let go until you see the roof. Once it comes into view, count to two. If your timing’s off, don’t panic. I can hook you back. Panic never gets the job done.”
“Got it,” he replied confidently. “But I gave you my helmet, so I don’t have any way to see.” A wobbly helmet wasn’t going to help this situation.
I plucked my chromoscope glasses back out of my pocket and placed them across the bridge of his nose. “I love these more than Luce, so don’t fall through the loop before your eyes land on the prize. I’m not fishing them out of the canal. That would be a huge hassle.” I flicked the dial to infrared.
He gave me a thumbs-up, and I walked him backward, then rushed forward, hurtling him toward the next building, praying he didn’t slip to his death. I watched as he swung out over the dark crevasse, not realizing I’d steepled my hands in front of my face, counting to two in my head once he reached the other side.
He let go, sliding from the loop at just the right time.
The kid had guts.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“If I never see another swing, I’ll die a happy man,” Darby muttered. We’d just landed on my building, having taken another ride to get here.
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