The silver cart’s surface was big and flat, meant for cargo. A driver stood at the back of the cart, balancing and holding on to a steering column in front of him, glancing around as if he expected to be attacked. He wore blue like Fox’s, with a red cap stuck down on his head.
“Dayn,” Fox called out, smiling, looking relieved. He waved him forward.
Onor had stopped a few feet away, watching the approaching cart and driver as well as Ruby and Fox. He looked far more uncertain than Ruby had ever seen him. He could wait. It was Fox she was losing.
She took Fox’s elbow, helping to support him on his hurt foot. She walked with him toward the edge of the path. “How will I know you’re okay?” she whispered, the approaching driver giving her words speed.
“I’ll be fine.”
Fox sounded distracted, as if he’d already left her.
Damn him.
She reached up and grabbed the back of his neck with her left hand, holding him still with her right hand on his waist, his weight off balance and leaning in because of his foot. “I will remember you,” she said. He would leave and she wouldn’t have another chance. “I need you to remember me. Find me.”
He swallowed, his gaze filled with the desire she usually hated men for. But she needed it in Fox, needed him to want her. It was instinct, something that rose all the way from her belly and arced up her back and spine. Warm. Raw.
“Find me,” she repeated.
Dayn had stopped, too, looking almost as confused as Onor.
“I’ll remember you,” Fox said.
He would. Ruby pulled him against her, hard, and kissed him. His lips resisted, cold and thin. She touched them with her tongue, opening them, touching his tongue, which pushed back at her. She gave herself into it, a lick inside him while she pressed him to her. She’d never done this, not so boldly, and it was as if a pillar of fire ran up her belly and her chest and skewered her heart.
Surely he felt it as well. He trembled.
Then his hands clamped down on her arms and he pushed a tiny bit. Reluctantly, she gave in, stepping away from him but taking one of his hands in hers “Do. Do remember me. Ruby.”
He nodded, his voice thick. “Thanks for being here.”
He meant it. If only she had more time, if only Onor hadn’t come right now.
“Fox,” Dayn said. “Leave off your flirting. We have to go. Now.” Dayn gave Ruby a close gaze. She noted curiosity and surprise, like she wasn’t what he expected to find. Or maybe it had been the kiss. She hadn’t expected that, either. Now that it was done, she was surprised at herself. He spoke to both Ruby and Onor. “You two better get, run if you can. You’ve got to evacuate. Get to the train.”
“What?” Ruby asked.
“The train. Before they space the air.”
“I know.” Onor finally spoke, his face red. He looked hard at Ruby. “We have to go.”
Dayn took Fox’s weight, and Ruby let go of Fox completely, her skin suddenly cold. She went and stood by Onor. Neither of them said anything as Dayn helped Fox onto the cart and made sure he had a good grip on the low rail that ran along the side by the driver’s stand.
The cart hissed back the way it had come, still low to the ground, as if its driver expected to lose grav at any time.
After Dayn and Fox had gone, Onor pulled her to him, his body and arm stiffer than she expected. “What was that?”
“Do we have a few minutes?”
“Maybe two.”
She pointed up at the rent in the roof of the sky, at the torn fabric of the ceiling and the loose wires and broken pipes that dangled above them.
His mouth fell open.
“We were right. That’s where they came from. Both of them, I’m sure. The hurt man—Fox—he fell from there. There’s shiny robots, shinier than ours, and more, and there were more people, but they all got away to someplace safe. It’s empty now, but it wasn’t.”
Onor licked his lips and stared up. “Did you have to kiss him?” His voice had a tiny bit of hurt in it, which tugged at her. But he was her friend, not her man, and so she ignored it. Besides, in truth, his anger had fled, his face showing only wonderment as he looked up. “Think we can get up there?” he asked.
“How?”
She looked around, but of course there was nothing. “Do you know what happened?”
“Maybe. The Jackman says the ship’s getting old. They’re making people line up and putting them on trains so they can fix this part.”
“Can they fix it?”
“I don’t know.” He was still looking at the roof. An eerie quiet settled around them, with no sirens and no noise except the faint, slow flapping of the ripped material. “We should go,” she whispered. “Besides, I’m cold.”
He took a last look, and then he took her arm. “You’re shivering. We should run.”
They passed through the park’s gates and pounded through the tunnel. It was a relief to be somewhere with lower ceilings and more holds on the wall. If the gravgens failed now, they’d be all right.
They raced through the corridors that led home. As they burst through the opening into the housing rows she lived on with her family, a red stepped in front of them.
He was thick-bodied, older than most reds, familiar. Ruby cursed under her breath and just managed not to run into Onor as he stopped.
“Ben.” She gasped, nearly out of breath from running. “Hi.” Ben had been scolding her and Onor for breaching safety rules since they were kids. If she let Ben tell her no she’d be lost. “I need something for Ma. She’s sick, and she didn’t bring anything with her. I’ve got to get clothes, too. My uniform. I’ll just be a minute.”
Ben narrowed his brows and started to shake his head.
Ruby’s heart sank.
“We won’t be long.” A thin, dark-haired wraith of a girl emerged from behind Ben. “Come on, Ruby. Hurry.” Marcelle looked up at Ben, her most winning smile pasted across her thin face.
The red stared down at her.
“I know. I’m supposed to be at the train,” Marcelle pleaded. “But I was waiting here for Ruby. Let’s go. We’ll hurry. We know the dangers.”
Ruby added, “We won’t go anywhere else. You know our place is nearby.”
Ben stepped aside. “Two minutes.”
“Thank you.” She reached toward him to touch his cheek, then decided he might trap her hand and keep her with him in spite of his step back.
Marcelle darted away, Onor right behind her. In moments, they’d crossed two corridors and turned down another, stopping at Ruby’s door. Ruby held up her hand and the door opened for her. She stopped Marcelle and gave her a hug. “How’d you know where to find me?”
Marcelle grinned. “How do I ever know where to find you?” She pointed to Ruby’s torn shirt. “You weren’t going to let anyone herd you onto a train with nothing to wear.”
Ruby laughed, almost giddy with exhaustion and excitement mixed up together in her body.
“And you’ll want your journal.”
The confrontation in the corridor seemed like days ago now. Ruby clenched her jaw, steeling herself in case the reds hadn’t brought her journal back before the damage started. Thankfully, it lay on the table by the door. She grabbed it and then scooped jewelry from her one private drawer into a bag.
The floor nearly fell out from under her. Marcelle gasped as Ruby lost her footing and slammed into a wall of drawers.
Onor snapped, “Ready?”
Ruby shoved clothes into the bag and grabbed up a uniform shirt in case Ben asked her to show it. “Ready.”
The sirens let out a short, high-pitched burst, and then another, and then they went off in an ululating cry so loud it drove them through the door. “Maybe we won’t get your stuff,” Marcelle told Onor.
“I know.” His face was white and his eyes wide.
They headed into the corridors. Marcelle grabbed her own sack as they passed her door. It bulged even fuller than Ruby’s.
; They raced back the way they had come. Ben stepped aside for them like before, but this time he followed them. He’d been waiting. The care and concern his having waited implied touched Ruby. “Thank you,” she whispered to him as she passed.
The old red made a hurry-up gesture, his serious dark eyes and the continuing screech of the sirens driving Ruby to pass Marcelle and Onor and lead them to the transport station.
The sign above the train proclaimed that it would be leaving in two minutes.
A woman from the crèche named Rebeck cried out, over and over, a soul-wounded sound. A pair of red women helped her toward the open doors, the taller of the two saying, “Surely he just got on the first train.”
Cars filled and the station emptied.
As they stepped into the last car, Ruby smelled baby puke and urine when she was sure it should be all oily and clean. The car wasn’t full. One family huddled close to each other near the back. Ben stood near the middle, where he could see everyone.
The train let off a loud squeal, warning that it would be leaving soon. Its dead-machine voice proclaimed, “Doors closing.”
Ruby tugged on Onor’s arm, guiding him into a seat. She strapped the bags she and Marcelle had brought into empty seats on either side of them.
The voice said “Doors—” and stopped.
The doors slid open and two people stumbled in. The young man’s face was so bloody it took Ruby a moment to identify him. Hugh. Lya, his girlfriend, supported his right side, wincing as he leaned on her. Her face was flushed red with exertion and her reddish-blond hair wet with blood and sweat.
“What happened?” Ben asked.
Lya’s voice sounded edgy. “Reds beat him up. We were . . . on our way here and they stopped us and beat him. His skull’s split.”
So they hadn’t left him alone.
Hugh groaned.
Ben held a hand up to calm her, frowning. “Probably just his scalp. What reds?”
Lya spat her words at Ben. “It could have been murder. If they knocked him out we’d still be there. Missed the—”
Hugh said, “Let it be, Lya. You know Ben didn’t do it. Let us by so I can sit down.”
Ben nodded stiffly. “Strap in. I already used most of my medikit, but I’ll look and see if there’s any left on another car after we get going.”
The train repeated its message about the doors closing.
Onor jerked his head toward their seats. “I’ve got fix-all and tape.”
Ben raised an eyebrow at Onor. “Can you handle it?”
Onor nodded, his face white but his eyes determined.
The train’s acceleration pushed Ruby back against the seats. Once it steadied, they unbuckled and began to work on Hugh.
He’d been beat bad.
Besides the gash on his head, one cheek was red and the other eye was going black. Ruby tore more material from the shirt she’d already mangled for Fox’s foot. She handed strips to Onor and Marcelle, who pressed them against Hugh’s head to stop the blood. After, Onor spread fix-all tape across Hugh’s scalp. Lya clung to Hugh’s hand, her knuckles white. Not a perfect job. Bits of dried blood stuck to Hugh’s hair and stained his neck. Hugh whispered, “Thanks,” his eyes slightly shocky and still full of pain.
“Keep him awake,” Ben advised.
“I will.” Lya squeezed Hugh’s arm. A single bruise darkened the back of her hand and she winced from time to time when the train shook. So Lya’d gotten a little of whatever Hugh got.
Ruby sat back and closed her eyes, too tired to avoid the memory that Hugh’s beating brought up for her any longer. It had been a year ago, but when she let herself think about it, it felt both more distant and more recent, like something so bad it couldn’t have happened at all.
She remembered walking softly as she snuck down the corridor between habs. She hadn’t wanted her mother to wake up and keep her home. If fifteen was old enough to be on shift after school, old enough to get in trouble, then it was old enough for her to solve her own troubles.
Or, more specifically, to help her friend Nona solve her problems. Nona was being stupid with dangerous people, and Ruby was going to stop her. It was bad enough Ruby was already scared her mom might be killed doing the same thing, and her mom was way smarter than Nona, had more edges and more toughness.
Nona had let it slip that she was meeting reds on the maintenance level. Stupid. Ruby had been there a few times, although never alone. She’d gone with senior repair techs to learn where the parts depots and the metal reclamation bins were.
No one had ever let her go to the maintenance levels alone.
The nearest entrance was in the corner outside the train station. The unmarked hatch in the floor swung up easily on well-oiled hinges. She climbed down a ladder, balancing the hatch over her head, letting it down slow enough that she barely heard it close.
The corridor here looked like the one above, except greasier and more banged up. Pipes and braces and way-finding signs hung overhead. The lights shone bright and stark, encouraging her to go about her business instead of standing still in their cold, square patterns.
Before she started off, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With any luck, she’d go straight to Nona, and she’d catch out the men who were using her. Reds were supposed to take care of you instead of hurt you. Reds were supposed to protect.
That’s what they said in school.
It was a lie. Mostly. Sometimes it was a serious lie.
If Nona had told her the truth last night, protecting wasn’t what they were doing to her at all. She’d come back with bruised forearms and a thick lip. She’d also come back with a flask of clear still and some pain cream her mom needed.
Everyone should be allowed to make some mistakes, but Nona had used up all the tolerance left for her, even though she was only a year older than Ruby. If she got caught skipping school or work again, she’d have to live down here the rest of her life.
Most lives down here didn’t last very long.
Ruby frowned as she passed a door that had been permanently bolted shut. A toxic sign warned people away. Probably medical waste.
Ruby and Nona had sworn to graduate together and get on one of the good crews together, but it was only going to happen if Ruby made Nona act differently.
Her journal was folded into a sharp hard square and clipped to her belt. She opened it up and set it to be ready to take pictures.
It was nearly the end of second shift, and the corridors were so quiet Ruby heard her own breath and the laboring of the air scrubbers above her head.
A tall, lanky man with three half-height bots squeaking along behind him rounded a corner. Ruby hid in a side corridor and waited for them to go by.
She swallowed and kept going, passing the bottom part of the water reclamation plant, its doors all marked with the same familiar water-drop symbol that she saw on the maintenance doors of her own level and on some of the pipes above her head.
Nona had told her that the men met her just past the water plant, in some space that had once been a storeroom, and then offices, and was now a makeshift sleeping quarters.
Ruby planned to catch them and report them. Sex with underaged girls was against the rules, even if it happened all the time. All she needed was proof. Gripping her journal so hard that the edges dug into her palms, she turned sideways and sidled along the wall, trying even harder to be quiet. She wanted to see what was happening and get a picture of the men, but she didn’t want them to catch her.
A squeak. A click. Laughter and then a harsh word, cutting it off. Footsteps around a corner from her, going away.
Heavy. Not Nona’s boots. Whose?
Ruby shuffled as fast as she could go without making noise. Rounding the corner, she caught a glimpse of two red uniforms. She reacted before thinking, drawing back, hiding. When she got the courage to look around again, she cursed under her breath. These were probably the men she had meant to catch, and now they were gone.
Should sh
e leave or go find Nona and confess that she’d been spying on her? Ruby sighed. Maybe she should wait a minute for Nona; but she was afraid that if she stayed down here she might lose all her courage. She took a deep breath, just the way Bari had taught her—the steadying breath to soothe her nerves before she sang in front of a crowd—letting it out slowly.
She walked as calmly as she could around the corner.
Only empty hallway, with doors on either side.
She whispered, “Nona?”
Silence.
She said it louder. “Nona. Are you here?”
Ruby took a few more steps, and her foot slid on something wet on the floor. She bent down and ran her finger through it, bringing it up to her nose.
Blood.
Her body went hot and shivery, her breath racing up and down the back of her throat and catching in her nose.
One of the doors hung a little open. Just a crack.
She stepped to it and pushed it the rest of the way open. It squeaked.
A dark room full of lumps and shapes. “Nona?” she whispered again, and this time she heard the faint scratch of fingernails on metal.
Her journal was still in her hand, so she told it to illuminate.
On the floor, Nona, on her side, her arms tied behind her back, naked from the waist down. Her shirt had been pulled up over her face. The hem was soaked and dark with blood.
The rectangle of light from Ruby’s journal was too small to illuminate the whole room, so she flashed it around, making sure there was nothing else to see. There wasn’t. A soft moan and a shudder told Ruby that Nona was still alive. She knelt beside her and touched her arm. Her skin felt cool.
“What did they do to you?” Ruby murmured as she untied Nona’s hands and rolled her over.
“Oh, oh, oh.” She heard herself gasping the word over and over as she spotted a dark metal shard of thin pipe or bar sticking out on Nona’s side, blood welling out around it. “Ix!” she managed to scream out before she dropped her journal onto Nona’s bare chest. She scrabbled around in the gloom, found the bottom of Nona’s uniform, and folded it around the shard, applying pressure to try to stop the bleeding.
The Creative Fire: 1 (Ruby's Song) Page 4