Driven

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Driven Page 4

by Susan Kaye Quinn


  My mouth is dry. I try to swallow but my tongue is rough, desiccated by the ragged breaths I’m pulling into my lungs. “You’re sure?” I ask.

  He gives a short laugh. “Oh yes. Quite sure.”

  “Maybe there’s some way—”

  “You can earn it back?” He gives me a knowing look. He’s thought this through already. “Redeem yourself? Win back a soul so that when you die you’re not facing an empty void of nothingness?”

  “There has to be something we can do—”

  “I gave my life for him.” His face has gone intense again. “I worked for Madam A. I did everything a debt collector could possibly do. It was my calling. To right the fundamental wrong of being who we are.” He pauses. “But it was hopeless from the start. This is what I want you to understand, little bird. No matter how bad you think this is, working for Kolek, it is your only option. Your only true hope. We need to keep taking the years, the lives, so that we can continue to exist. There is no other option.”

  I don’t say anything. I don’t want to believe him, but it’s hard not to. I search for something, anything, some reason… “Wait. You said Ophelia saved you.”

  “She arrived soon after I paid out. At least, that’s what she tells me. From what I can figure, I was only dead for a few minutes.”

  “So she brought you back from the dead,” I say, my voice rising a notch.

  “Yes,” he says. “I tried to get her to bring back Michael, but she wouldn’t. She said he was gone. She reached into him, but she said it was too late. I didn’t believe her. I begged her to bring him back. I was crazy with grief. But I know now that she really did try. She would have done it, if she could. But he was dead long before she arrived.”

  “But Ophelia said you can’t bring back someone from the dead,” I say. “If she brought you back—”

  “She doesn’t believe I was really dead. She doesn’t want to believe. But I know what I saw, little bird. I know what I felt. And I sure as hell don’t ever want to feel it again.”

  I take a step back and bump into the door behind me. With the intensity of our words, I didn’t realize I had been backing away from him the whole time. I don’t know if Valac’s right, but I’m certain that he believes it. My mind starts to fuzz over, shutting down with the idea that Kolek’s mob might be the right place for me after all. That days of collecting at the casino are my future. An endless future, if Valac is right, because we’ll need to keep collecting or we’ll die. Forever.

  “The best thing that your psych officer ever did for you, little bird, is send you here.”

  That jolts me. “My psych… what the hell?”

  Valac looks genuinely surprised. “You didn’t know?”

  “Didn’t know what?”

  “Candy sold you out. You and Ophelia both.” He shrugs. “I don’t know why, but she’s the one who told Kolek where to find you. You only escaped because Nico was an idiot in that alleyway. The others don’t have a brain between them, so you got lucky Nico was the one you knocked out first.”

  My mouth is hanging open. I shut it. “But why? Why would Candy…?” I know she doesn’t exactly care for her debt collectors. She’s a nasty piece of work who lies and manipulates us. But selling us out to the mob? “What could my psych officer possibly get from selling out Ophelia and me?”

  Valac tosses his hands up. “Beats me. But it’s not the first time Kolek’s gotten a tip from her. You should ask Ophelia. Maybe she knows.” Valac looks supremely unconcerned about this and flicks open his palm screen. “Speaking of whom, she should be done by now. If not, I’ll be happy to interrupt whatever’s going on in the congressman’s bedroom. If he wants a sex worker, he’ll have to pay separately for that.”

  I scowl at him, still breathless with the idea of Candy selling us out. He taps the button to slide open the door, then pauses to look at me over his shoulder. “And remember, little bird. Whatever Kolek asks you do to, don’t hesitate. He’s looking to see if you’re willing to do whatever he says. You hesitate, you’re dead. And that’s no place to be.”

  He gives me a short nod and strides out of the room, not waiting for a response.

  I’m not sure what I would say to that anyway.

  I run my hand over my clean-shaven face. The mirror shows a young man dressed for a club, cheeks no longer sunken, flushed like I jogged back to my room. The dark circles under my eyes are gone, and my lips are full, almost red, like I just thoroughly kissed a girl. Only Ophelia was in no mood for kissing on the way back from her payout in the senator’s bedroom.

  I haven’t looked this good… ever. And it’s not because I kissed someone. It’s because I have years of stolen life in my body, filling out my bones in a way I’ve never felt before. Years that don’t belong to me.

  Only my eyes are dull. Flat. The slate-gray-blue of a storm that deadens the sky.

  Looking in the mirror is always a mistake.

  I straighten the collar of my black silk shirt, tucking it into my dress pants, then smoothing them as well. My hands are steady. My head is clear. I’m finally down from the buzz of collecting.

  I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for the test Kolek is going to give me.

  A soft knock taps at the door of my room. I peer around the corner, wondering who thinks I can open the door to let them in, but it was just a courtesy knock. Valac stands by my open door, waiting for me. He doesn’t say anything, but I suppose he already had his say. I slip my hands in my pockets and stroll toward him, in no hurry to see what Kolek has in store for me.

  It’s just me and Valac, walking the hall toward Kolek’s meeting room.

  Since we’re momentarily alone, I ask, “What’s the test?”

  Valac doesn’t look at me. “I don’t know, little bird,” he says. “Couldn’t tell you if I did.” He pauses at the door, checking with me. I nod and he swipes his palm across the lock. The door slides open.

  I quickly scan the room as we enter. Kolek at the end with a drink in his hand, his blond hair slicked back like Valac’s. Nico standing off to the side, hands laced in front of him. It’s only the two of them, and I feel a flush of relief that Ophelia’s not in the room. Either to participate or observe whatever’s going to go down. Maybe I’ll ask for a visit with her after we’re done. I think I’ll need some consoling.

  Assuming I survive.

  I pause in the middle of the room, but Valac urges me forward with a tilt of his head. Kolek sets his drink down on the mantle of the fireplace. There’s a large mirror over it, and my reflection shows me hesitating in the middle of the room. I pull my gaze from that and approach Kolek.

  I stop a few feet away, waiting for him to speak. His blue eyes sparkle but not with mirth. More like he’s looking forward to whatever entertainment my test will provide.

  He closes the distance between us, grabs hold of my shoulders in his two hands and kisses me, once on each cheek. My eyes are wide. I’m not sure what I expected, but kisses certainly weren’t it.

  I’m mute, blinking like an idiot, as Kolek examines me.

  “Valac tells me you did well today, Lirium.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Kolek drops his hands from my shoulders. “Not everyone is cut out for our work,” he says, taking a step back to retrieve his drink. He points a finger at me. “I see potential in you, Lirium. You’re young, but you have guts.” He curls the finger in to make a fist. The sleeve of his loose, white-silk shirt is rolled up, so I can see his forearm flex. “You’re strong. I like that.” He takes a sip of his drink. A ring on his hand clinks against the glass. “I hear you and Ophelia make a good team.” He nods his approval.

  “Yes, sir.” A flicker of hope that he’s decided not to test me after all fades when he throws a look to Nico. I glance at his henchman, but he’s already turned away, walking toward the back of the room.

  “However,” Kolek says, capturing my attention again, “some young men make the mistake of thinking they can come into my house…” He ges
tures wide with his hands. “… and take what belongs to me. I like that less, as you can probably understand.”

  “Yes, sir.” My heart picks up the pace.

  “A young man came into my casino today.” He points at me again. “The one you visited, by interesting coincidence. He tried to rob me. Thought he could sneak in and make off with the swipe cards we hand out to our donors. Now…” He spreads his hands wide again. “You can imagine, I didn’t care for that at all. Can’t let people think that we’re such an easy mark a boy can come in and walk out with our money.”

  A boy?

  His gaze flicks behind me. I slowly turn, my stomach hollowing out. Nico has returned with the boy, a meaty hand wrapped around his upper arm. He’s fourteen, fifteen at the outside. Lanky, thin as a sapling. Nico doesn’t even have to flex a muscle to hold him in place. I know immediately he’s my test. Kolek’s going to have me drain the life from this kid.

  A kid.

  I swallow. The smirk on Nico’s face as he meets my gaze tells me this was hand-picked for me. Nico saw my reaction at the casino. He saw me flinch, when I had to collect from the mother. The boy struggles uselessly against Nico’s hold until he brings him to stand a few feet away from Kolek and me. I shoot a look to Valac, but his face is impassive.

  “This boy stole from me,” Kolek says. My gaze locks with his. My stomach is a hard rock. I know what he’s going to say before he says it. “I can’t let something like that go unpunished. Transfer him out for me, Lirium.”

  My throat closes up. I swing my head to look at the boy.

  His eyes have gone wide, and he struggles anew against Nico’s hold. He makes a strangled sound.

  No hesitation.

  I take two long steps toward the boy, my hand out, reaching for him.

  “No!” he cries, voice cracking. “Wait!”

  He flails against Nico, who catches his other arm and holds him still for me. My hand lands on his forehead before he can say anything more, a smack that sounds across the room. I start the transfer immediately. His face contorts into a scream that never gets air. His thin fingers spread wide, as if he’s been shocked. The surge of his life energy hits me like a giant, rushing wave.

  I push back against the flood reflexively, then consciously focus to narrow the transfer point and slow the gush. The boy has a lifetime ahead of him, a vast lake of life energy that’s dammed behind my hand. He sags in Nico’s grasp, his body frozen in a death pose even though I’ve slowed the transfer to a trickle. I breathe hard as Nico slowly lowers the boy to the ground. I go with him, keeping my contact with his forehead. I have to kneel down next to him. He lies face up, eyes focused on mine, wide with terror. His face shadows as I watch, turning the color of death, even though I’ve only begun to take his life.

  The vast waters of his life energy push against the spigot. I open it a little more. The boy’s body twitches. I feel the rush hit my brain, boosting me high again, my whole body buzzing. I clench the hand I’m not transferring with, gritting my teeth against the high, feeling it like a hundred strikes of Dr. Brodsky’s penance.

  It will take me some time to drain the boy, but it’s possible. After all the practice in collecting with Ophelia, I know I can do it.

  Something itches my cheek. I brush my fisted hand across it. It comes away wet.

  I stare at the back of my hand, shiny with tears I didn’t know I was shedding.

  He’s just a boy.

  I have to do this! I tell myself. I have no choice. It’s the boy or me. Kolek will kill me if I don’t. He’ll have Valac’s hand on my neck before I can blink. And even if I could fight Valac off, Nico would have a bullet ready for me.

  I look back and the boy’s face blurs. His mother probably doesn’t even know he’s missing yet. She will find his body later, but his life, filled with potential, will be long gone. Stolen by Kolek’s debt collectors. By me.

  It’s him or me.

  Then a realization wells up, an idea from somewhere deep inside me, some secret place I didn’t know existed: there is a choice. It’s mine to make, and mine alone.

  And I can choose him.

  I keep transferring, but I slow it to the barest trickle.

  Only one of us can live. And the only right thing in the universe is for it to be this kid, not me.

  Kolek may kill him anyway. I know that. But it won’t be me that killed a fourteen-year-old kid for trying to pinch a few swipe cards. I don’t know if Valac’s right about there being nothing on the other side. But I’m sure he’s right that there’s no redemption for men like us, not after the things we’ve done. There are too many lives we’ve stolen. Too much death in our hands to have any hope for salvation. Sparing this boy won’t save me.

  But it might save him.

  Nothingness might not be so bad after all. I can think of worse things.

  I’m about to find out.

  I stand up, peeling my hand away from the boy’s head. He gasps in air and moans, curling on his side, away from me. By the time I’m standing, Nico’s gun is already out and pointed at my head.

  “I’m not going to kill the boy,” I say to Kolek, but my gaze is calmly fixed on Nico, past the barrel of his gun, which is hovering an inch from my forehead. Nico’s eyes are brown. Dark brown like mud.

  I wait for the bullet.

  It doesn’t come. Nico blinks. He flicks a look to Kolek. No one is saying anything, probably trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing, so I decide it’s time for a few last words. Maybe I can say something that will help the boy. I turn to Kolek. His face is red with confused anger, like he’s not quite sure what has happened yet.

  “It’s a foolish waste, Kolek,” I say, my voice amazingly calm. I expect to get a bullet in the back of my head any second, yet my words are strangely unhurried. “The boy has a ton of potential life in him. He’s strong, just the kind you like. He made a mistake, but the kid’s got guts. He tried to steal from a mob boss. You have to give him credit for going up against the biggest bad guys in his neighborhood. That’s the kind you want inside your organization. And a dead kid is one of the few things that might make donors more angry than afraid.”

  The red in Kolek’s face is fading a little. Valac’s is completely white, his mouth hanging open. I give him a small smile. If Kolek tells him to drain me, I’ve already decided I’ll lunge for Nico. I’d rather take the bullet. At least then he can tell Ophelia that Kolek killed me, not him.

  “You have some balls,” Kolek says, and oddly, it sounds like a compliment.

  I don’t say anything, just square my shoulders and judge that Nico’s still within lunging distance. The boy struggles up from the floor. He looks wildly between me and Nico and Kolek, then throws a look toward the door.

  “Don’t,” I say to him. “Be smart. You’ll live longer.”

  He swallows visibly, and I can see his legs are barely holding him up. But he stands straight and doesn’t make any more moves to escape.

  The tip of Nico’s gun presses against my head, forcing it to tilt to the side.

  “Nico,” Kolek says. “Take the boy downstairs and get him cleaned up. I’ll have a talk with him later.”

  Nico’s gun lingers on my head, then he gives me a nudge with it, and the pressure disappears. I hold in the sigh of relief as he takes the kid by the shirt and shoves him toward the door. It seems like the boy has a reprieve, but I’m not sure why I’m not dead yet.

  Kolek comes closer. His blue eyes stare into mine. I should be afraid. He could have a gun under that expensive Italian suit he’s wearing.

  I’m not.

  “I should kill you,” Kolek says.

  “Probably,” I say.

  He lets out a snort, but he’s smiling. He’s not actually going to kill me, not right now, anyway. In that case, maybe I can do something to clean up the mess I’ve made.

  “Or, you could use someone like me inside your organization, too,” I say. “Someone with guts.”

  He throws a smirk
to Valac, who has managed to shut his mouth. “I think the boy is angling for your job, Valac.”

  He says nothing, his stare still wide-eyed.

  When Kolek turns back, his eyes are smiling, but his face has gone severe. “Last week you came into my house thinking you could steal from me,” he says. “Now you think you’re cut out to be one of my enforcers?”

  “I’m a fast learner.”

  “Not fast enough.” His eyes have lost their mirth, too, and I wonder if he’s going to kill me after all. “Your psych officer said you might be some trouble.”

  I’m glad that Valac told me earlier, so I can keep it cool. Like I knew Candy sold me out all along. “We had a disagreement about my training. She thought I needed lessons from Ophelia.”

  “I hope you’ve learned all your lessons now, collector, because I’m not inclined to give you any more chances.” He waves to Valac. “Bring up the boy’s file.”

  I frown. Valac hesitates just a split second, then rapid-touches his palm screen. He steps closer to Kolek and holds it out. Even from a few feet away I can see it’s a picture of me—a younger me. It’s my intake picture for the Agency.

  The bottom drops out of my stomach. That record is supposed to be sealed.

  “Joseph ‘Joe’ Louis Miller,” Kolek reads from Valac’s palm. “Born September 13th 2049 to Alice and Stanis Miller. Raised by a single mother here on the east side. Father: whereabouts unknown at intake.” He glances at me. “That’s a shame. A boy needs a father, don’t you think?”

  I don’t answer, every hair on the back of my neck standing at attention.

 

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