James turned around. “You know me better than that, Dal. You know it’s a yes.”
Dal’s face softened. “All the more reason to be careful. We can’t have the most important person in the Radioactive Hand disappearing on us. Every time you go through those passages, you risk your life.”
James shot Dal a steady stare. “I’ll be back. Besides, some things are worth the risk.”
Chapter Two
Fireworks
“Don’t go.” Skye sunk into the recycled plastic couch. Her hopes wheezed out of her lungs like the air from the ripped cushions.
Grease shook his head in a jerking motion. His fingers twitched as he paced their small apartment collecting knives, scissors, anything sharp. The desperation teeming in his wild eyes pushed Skye to the edge of giving up.
But not quite. “Why aren’t Carly and I enough?”
“The bombing of Utopia killed a lot of Razornecks. With that hard-nosed witch in charge, we can’t get anything for ourselves. You have to look at the big picture. We could have all the food we need. Think of Carly.”
“Carly, my ass,” Skye whispered, hoping the child still napped in the other room. Anger simmered in her chest. Only a slime would blame this risky escapade on a little girl. “I see the bigger picture, all right.”
The plastic crinkled as she shot up and grabbed his arm. Grease fought her, twisting away from her grip in a weak tug. Her fingernails dug into his skin as she turned his arm over to the pale underside. Puncture marks ran in a line from his wrist to his elbow. Black circles spread like blood underneath his skin around each mark.
“This isn’t just about revenge. It’s that crap from the moon, isn’t it?”
His arm slipped from her fingers as his eyes flicked down, the dilated pupils shifty. “It’s not just for that. The Razornecks need control of the city. They want to make the rations fair.”
She put her hands on her hips and squeezed her sides. “And have a steady shipment of moonshine in return?”
He didn’t argue her point. “Taking out Governor Grier is the only way.”
“Besides being murder, it’s too dangerous. You saw what they did to Utopia. I almost died from worry when you came home so late. I thought the blast killed you.”
He smoothed his hand over the metal ridges on the back of his neck, implanted when he became a member of the gang. The enhancements used to excite her, but now they stirred up animosity for the people ruining Grease’s life.
“The Razornecks aren’t going to let that happen. Not again.” He sounded nervous, as if he didn’t believe it himself. “Besides, somethin’s going on with those green-haired idealists of the Radioactive Hand. They usually don’t let us get ahead, but they’ve removed most of their patrols.”
“If they have, there’s a reason for it. Think, Grease. Why would they be drawing back?”
Grease shrugged, his shoulder bones protruding from underneath his ripped T-shirt. “Who cares? It allows us to steal what we deserve.”
Anger hardened inside her, twisting her stomach muscles. “You think you’re indestructible, that moonshine gives you powers no one else can beat, but it takes away life as well. Look at you. You’re turning into a shell of a man, following crazy orders, pumping alien substances into your veins, twitching like you can’t keep still.”
He winced, pulling away from her like a wounded jackal. Guilt seeped into her broken heart, but she couldn’t let him get away with another heist. Each time he left, the Razornecks raised the stakes. At first, all they wanted was fair food rations, but ever since they got into Morpheus, they coveted power.
“Please, Grease. Think about your daughter. What would the two of us do without you?”
“I’m coming back.” He zipped up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. “When I do, you’d better be here.”
She leaned in, smelling the pungent odor of rotting orchids. He used to smell like sweat and cigarettes, normal things. “Only if you give up that moon-crack.”
He gawked at her as if she’d asked him to give up breathing. “Not gonna happen, Skye.”
Hopelessness spun a black hole in her stomach and she dropped to her knees. “I’ve heard horrible rumors. City guardians talk of changed people outside the gates, people who took the drug for so long it ate away their soul. What if you turn into one of those moonshiners?”
“Scare tactics.” He kicked the door open and the musty smell of the old hall carpet wafted in. “Made up to keep the lower class in line. They’re afraid of us. Believe me, I’ll know when to stop.”
“Please.” She gulped back a sob, realizing she feared him as well. The man who had saved her was slipping through her fingers, and she was helpless to save him in return. Where was the resourcefulness she’d had all those years on the streets? She felt useless and weak, unable to seize fate in her hands and turn it around. She had failed him.
“Watch for me on the holoscreen.” He saluted her with a goofy wave of his hand over his eyebrow, and for a moment, the old Grease flashed before her, the man who had found her pillaging in the alleys and given her a home.
“Tell Carly her dad’s a hero.” Grease turned and disappeared around the corner.
Skye stumbled after him but crumpled against the doorframe. She couldn’t leave Carly alone, and she had already given everything she had to convince him not to go. When Grease made a decision, he stuck to it.
Her heart squeezed, and she took deep breaths to calm down. She couldn’t shake the feeling this whole mission would fail. The Razornecks had never attempted such a bold attack on government soil.
“Where’s Daddy, Skye?”
Skye whirled around. Carly stood in the kitchen, rubbing her fist against her eye. One-legged Jennifer dangled from underneath her arm, the doll half dressed in rags. Blond hair stuck up from Carly’s ponytail, which had shifted to the right side of her head.
Skye didn’t want to upset her, but she didn’t want to lie, either. “He’s gone to work, Carls.”
“When will he be back?”
She avoided Carly’s eyes as she closed the door and fumbled with a dishcloth, wrapping it around a hook on the wall. In her opinion, he wasn’t coming back. “I don’t know.”
“I miss him.” Carly hugged Jennifer closer, and the doll’s innocent eyes stared at Skye. She should have tried harder to convince him to stay.
“I know. I do, too.”
The holoscreen tempted Skye from their family room, the long crack down the middle glistening in the yellowish, fluorescent overhead light. She couldn’t watch the news team covering the assassination, especially with Carly awake.
Anxiety rippled inside her and the walls of their small apartment felt like they were pressing in. She had to see the State Building for herself, to be there when the attack struck. The wallscreen would show footage close up, and she didn’t want her seeing the violence firsthand, but from the roof she could at least guess who was winning.
She took Carly’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get you dressed. We’re going to the upper levels.”
“That’s our last pass. You said not until an emergency—”
“I know what I said.” Leading her to the family room, Skye dug in a pile of old clothes Grease had pilfered and found a tattered pink coat Carly’s size. She shoved the thermal stuffing back in the ripped arm and pulled it over the little girl’s pajamas. “We have to go.”
“Beach Party Rules is on in an hour,” Carly whined and pulled on Jennifer’s hair.
Skye gave her a stern look. Even though she wasn’t her biological mom, she knew what was good for her and what wasn’t. “You shouldn’t be watching that junk, anyway.”
They hurried down the dimly lit hall to the stairway at the back. Gangs had shattered most of the bulbs into razor-bladed flower petals. The lights still intact flickered in and out.
“Just a few floors until the elevators work, Carls. We can do it.”
Grease had promised them a spot on Level Twenty-Two so
meday, but she knew his assurance was nothing more than a pipe dream. By the time they reached the fourth floor, Carly was dragging her feet.
“I’m tired.”
Skye wanted to lecture her about how, at six years old, she was a big girl who could walk on her own, but there wasn’t enough time to argue. The attack could happen at any minute.
“Come on, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
She picked up Carly, and the girl wrapped her arms around Skye’s neck.
Skye leaped up the next few flights, taking two steps at a time. When she reached the eighteenth level, her heart was hammering against her chest. She’d lost some of her steam from her alley days, sitting on that sticky couch, waiting for her life to improve and doing a whole lot of nothing to fix it.
Well, I’m doing something now.
“It’s too bumpy; slow down.” Carly buried her face in Skye’s shoulder.
“I can’t. We’ve got to keep going. We’re almost there.”
She passed a landing covered in old soybean wrappers and damaged electronics. She knew Carly would love more wires to braid, but she couldn’t stop now. The numbers painted on the wall read LEVEL TWENTY. Goose bumps prickled her skin. She’d only come up this high once before.
Two armed men stood at the top of the stairwell, holding gallium lasers on either side, equipped with enough voltage to kill an elephant, if one still existed. Their faces were set in grim lines that warned, Don’t even try.
The man on the right, dressed in an old military uniform with a gray buzz cut, held out his hand and wiggled his fingers impatiently. The other guard stared at her as though he’d be surprised if she could form coherent sentences, never mind give a valid reason to cross. “Upper Level Pass.”
Still holding Carly, Skye jammed her free hand into her pocket and dug out two plastic cards, hoping the guards wouldn’t track them back to their original owners. Grease had given her four passes after coming home late one night, telling her not to ask questions. Skye had used the first two to take Carly to a licensed doctor when she had a bad fever and had saved these last two ever since.
The man narrowed his eyes, smoothing his thumb over the barcode. “Purpose?”
“Private visitation.”
He sniffed as though anyone she’d visit would live on the levels below. Looking down at her yellow-stained T-shirt and torn jeans, Skye suddenly felt self-conscious.
“All right.” The cards disappeared into his front pocket, and Skye’s stomach lurched as if he’d kept her left arm. Had she made the right decision? Would she need the passes in the future?
“Give me your hands.”
She held out a palm, and Carly followed her example. The guard ran a scanner over their skin, and a series of blue numbers appeared on their wrists. Skye smoothed her fingers over hers, seeing her favorite number five in the middle. Perhaps it was a good sign.
“Expires in twenty-four hours.”
“Yes, sir.” She checked the holoscreen above their heads and noted the time.
He grunted. “You and the girl may pass.”
As the guards moved aside, Skye slipped into a corridor with bright, fluorescent lights and a plush carpet that crushed under her feet, releasing the smell of lilacs. Soft, synthesized tones floated into her ears. Ignoring the vases of plastic hyacinths and the holopaintings shimmering on the walls, she reached a working elevator with a panel lit in green light. She placed Carly down, pressed the panel, and stretched her sore arms.
The elevator door slid away and they stepped in. The floor surged underneath their feet and Carly’s eyes widened.
Skye grabbed her hand, anxious to reach the roof before it was too late.
Not that I can do anything to change the outcome. I’ll just be staring like a puppet with no strings.
Carly put her other hand on the floor, her moist fingers making halos of condensation on the chrome.
The elevator beeped and they stepped onto a cement walkway with greenhouses stacked in rows. The sky opened in an infinite ceiling above their heads and the sun blazed, brighter than any light they’d ever seen. Carly jumped out. “Cyber beans!”
“Be careful.” Skye noticed Carly’s pale arms, white as bone. “Pull your sleeves down and don’t take off your coat.”
She took the girl’s hand and they weaved through the greenhouses. A heavy security system armed each structure, lasers glowing neon blue across the glass doors. The plants looked so withered and fragile; Skye wondered how they could produce any food at all. Especially with Utopia gone, the rations would get even smaller.
“Can I go inside and touch the plants?”
“No, Carls. I’m sorry. The buildings are locked.”
They reached the edge of the rooftop with a panoramic view across the New York skyline. Blocks of high-rises cluttered the horizon like a jar of pencils all sticking up. It appeared city planners heaped each building next to the other, so close she could jump from one to another. On the right, smoke plumed from the broken glass of Utopia. Architects and bioengineers designed the structure to catch and magnify the sun’s rays for five levels of accelerated growth. The single building produced more food than all the others in the city combined.
Skye avoided looking over there, not wanting to see the devastation. In the center of the city, a tower topped with a golden dome structure stood out like a crystal.
The State Building. Home of the richest woman in the city. The woman Grease wanted dead.
Her stomach sickened as she thought of him working his way through the underground and emerging at the top of the State Building’s marble stairs with the rest of the Razornecks carrying armfuls of lasers and knives. The building looked so serene and impenetrable. Didn’t the governor have a family? Children of her own around Carly’s age?
Collapsing against the side of a greenhouse, Skye didn’t want him to succeed. If the Razornecks gained control of the city, they’d have endless food and power. She and Carly would never go hungry again. But would it be right to take out the people in charge? Starve the rest of the city? Give the Razornecks unlimited amounts of a drug that would turn them violent against civilians?
All I want is for Grease to come home.
She sighed, watching Carly play with a beetle as it scurried around real grass growing at the base of the greenhouse. She wished she could give her so much more than a one-day field trip to a dwindling food resource.
Eruptions boomed, echoing between the buildings, making it difficult for Skye to discern the source. She scrambled to her feet and leaned against the railing. Her fingers shook as she gripped the rusty rail.
Carly ran up beside her and grabbed onto her arm. “What was that?”
“Bombs.” She hadn’t seen Grease take anything explosive with him, but that didn’t mean the other members of the gang didn’t carry hypergrenades. Laser fire pinged through the alleyways, echoing over the city. Grease wasn’t kidding around. The battle had begun.
A cloud shielded the sun, and the roof darkened. Skye shivered in the absence of the warm rays, wishing she’d taken another minute to dig out a coat for herself. She wasn’t accustomed to the rush of raw wind on her skin.
Carly tugged on her arm. “I want to go back. I don’t like it up here.”
“The sun will break through again.” Skye tried to sound reassuring, but her voice broke on the words.
Grease may not. He already tried his luck once.
Behind them, the sky rumbled like thunder. She spun around as five large military hovercrafts sped over their heads. Carly ducked, holding her hands to her ears.
One word came to Skye’s mouth and sat on her tongue, unable to be spoken.
No.
Her words from their fight came back to her. You saw what they did to Utopia.
What if it was a trap, meant to catch the remaining gang members? Her stomach pitched. Missiles, swelling as large as whales, clung to both sides of the hovercrafts.
Skye’s fingers gripped the railing so
hard the rust cut into her skin. Carly hugged her leg, unable to stand. The hovercrafts glided to the golden dome and surrounded the perimeter. Skye strained her ears, but she couldn’t hear anything above the engines’ roar.
Would the government destroy the one building that kept the city unified? Maybe the pilots were bluffing. She dug her toes into the bottom of her sneakers and hoped.
An eternity passed with the ships hovering like giant wasps. She should have tied Grease to the couch or hit his head hard enough to knock him out. She breathed in guilt like air, and it spread through her body, making her fingers shake. She didn’t have the gumption. Her problem in life had always been inaction, and now she had paid for it.
Other spectators cluttered the buildings around them, everyone staring at the last pillar of civilization, hoping the same thing she did.
Don’t blow it up.
One of the hovercrafts parked on a loading dock toward the top of the government building. Skye squinted to see farther, wishing she’d found a decent pair of glasses in her scrounging days. It looked as though a few people were running from the ramp to board it. Had the governor gotten away? The hovercraft rose to the sky and flew off.
In unison, the other hovercrafts backed up, and relief tingled through Skye like rain on her skin. She gasped in and held her breath, waiting for them to withdraw and fly away as well.
Suddenly, the hovercrafts fired in unison, twin sets of missiles from each vessel plunging into the golden dome. The building shattered and collapsed inward. Flames sparked from the center, and black smoke rose to congeal with the smog in the sky.
Skye’s knees weakened, and she collapsed to the ground.
“Grease!” She shouted his name repeatedly at the burning inferno until her voice gave out. Uncontrollable sobs wracked her body. She hugged Carly tightly, shielding the little girl’s eyes from the searing smoke blowing in their direction. Without him, she was all the girl had. That wasn’t very much.
“Was Daddy in there?”
Skye looked away. Her eyes stared at the horizon, but she couldn’t focus on anything. She lacked the courage to reply.
A Hero Rising Page 2