Flame: A Sky Chasers Novel

by Amy Kathleen Ryan

  “Because I don’t know where she is,” Mather said.

  “She ran away?” Seth blinked his sticky eyelids.

  Mather studied him carefully. He stared back at her, letting her see his surprise and his gladness. Waverly got away. Good for her, once again proving she didn’t need Seth Ardvale. Or anyone, for that matter.

  “Of course you’d pretend you haven’t seen her,” Mather finally said.

  “Look.” He waited for Mather to make eye contact with him. “If I’d known Waverly had slipped away, I wouldn’t have turned myself in. I’d be looking for her myself, and”—he smirked—“I’d probably help her kill you. But I don’t know where she is. And I need a doctor. That’s why I let you catch me.”

  Mather tapped her chin with her finger. “Maybe Jacob Pauley has her after all.”

  “What?” Seth’s heart skipped. “You can’t let Jake get her. He wants to kill her.”

  “Yes, I know,” Mather said with a grim smile.

  “Please,” Seth said, but then he found he didn’t know what to ask for. “You can’t let him hurt her.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “Waverly wants to kill me, you said?”

  Seth froze.

  “And Jacob wants to kill Waverly.”

  Seth opened his mouth to speak, to plead for Waverly, defend her. But he couldn’t find the words.

  “Why should I do anything?” Mather spat.

  Seth said the only thing he could think of: “To prove you’re not a monster.”

  She nodded to someone outside the door. The big mean guard came in, holding his gun across his chest. His jaw protruded weirdly, as though he’d once been punched so hard that his whole face had been knocked out of alignment. This guy probably had a mean dad too, Seth mused.

  “To prove I’m not a monster,” Mather repeated fondly, “when we find Waverly’s body, I’ll hold a memorial in her honor. There will be flowers, and a choir, and I’ll make a sermon about the sin of wrath.” She motioned to the guard, who pulled Seth up by the armpit. “Take him to the brig.”

  “You can’t leave her,” Seth said weakly. “You can’t let him…”

  But Mather had picked up a portable reader to peruse, tapping her chin with her finger as the big man pulled Seth out the door.

  THE DARK

  As she woke, Waverly became aware of a horrible ache at the base of her skull. It was dark, so dark that at first she couldn’t be sure her eyes were open, but she could feel her lids moving over her eyeballs. The inside of her mouth was stuck together and sour. Sweltering heat pressed against her skin, and a droplet of sweat ran down the side of her nose. She wanted to wipe it away but realized she was tied up, her arms wrenched behind her, her legs bent back, her wrists bound to her ankles. She couldn’t move at all. Her shoulders were horribly sore. Her neck, her back … she tried to roll onto her stomach, but she couldn’t throw her weight over, and after several tries she gave up.

  She heard a snort, near enough to her ear that a puff of air disturbed the hairs at her temple. She froze, tried to quiet her breathing, and listened. Another body moved in the darkness. Someone sniffed—a man. He sounded close.

  She reached back in her fuzzy memory. She’d been running. Running on the stairs away from Jared. Running to Seth. Then someone had closed a fat hand over her nose and mouth, smothered her until she’d fainted.

  Jacob Pauley.

  A paralyzing terror overtook her, and she gulped a mouthful of air.

  “Shut up,” said a voice to her right, and a hand clamped over her mouth. A woman’s lips pressed against her ear, “You’ll live longer if you make things easy.”

  Waverly whimpered, and the woman’s hand pressed the back of her head against the hard metal floor. “He wanted to kill you right away.”

  Waverly could hear someone snoring in the darkness. The woman released her grip over Waverly’s mouth.

  “You’re his wife?” Waverly whispered.

  “I said shut up,” the woman said.

  A light switched on, and Jacob Pauley’s groggy face appeared over Waverly, huge and looming. The corners of his mouth were pulled down, the nostrils of his hooked nose flared, the pores in his skin oversized and cruddy. His bloodshot eyes bored into hers.

  “Jakey,” the woman said in a warning tone. “Light the Bunsen burner.”

  His gaze shifted away from Waverly, then back again.

  “She’s more useful alive,” the woman insisted. She was small and mousy, with angry, darting movements and sallow olive skin. Her hair was disheveled and greasy, and she wore a heavy wool coat despite the heat in this … room? Waverly looked around. The three of them were crammed into a tiny space. To their right was a wheeled vehicle Waverly recognized from training videos—a rover designed for travel over the surface of New Earth. On her other side were boxes of rations and jugs of water. At her feet was a corrugated metal wall, painted bright blue. This must be a shipping container in the storage bay, miles away from anyone.

  Her heartbeat coalesced into a tiny point in her neck, tapping against the inside of her carotid. She was going to die here. It was going to hurt.

  Jacob knelt in front of a cardboard box and turned the valve on a small propane tank until a hiss sounded in the close air. A blue flame sputtered to life. He dropped a handful of what looked like oats into a small metal bucket, poured water over them, stirred the glop with the tip of his finger, and set it on a metal frame over the fire.

  “We got big plans, I keep having to remind him.” The woman glared with contempt at her husband’s broad back before turning her attention back to Waverly. “They’re going to have you testify, right? At Mather’s trial?”

  It took Waverly a while to process the question. “Yes,” she said. Did this mean they were going to let her go? “Do you want me to do something? I’ll do it.”

  The woman laughed sardonically. “We got a long list of grievances, and it ends with you, honey. It all begins with Anne Mather.”

  “I hate her, too,” Waverly said through her teeth.

  The woman spat on Waverly. She felt the spittle trickle from her ear and along the hollow between the tendons of her neck and larynx.

  “I said shut up,” the woman snarled. “I’d like to kill you, too. Just give me a reason.”

  Waverly couldn’t stop the tears. They stung like acid as they squeezed out from between her lids. She bit her bottom lip to keep from making any sound. She hated crying in front of them. She hated the way they looked at her through the sides of their eyes, smug and satisfied.

  This was the worst thing that could have happened, and it had never once occurred to her that it might. How could she ever be safe if she couldn’t see the terrors coming?

  A sudden knock on the wall of the shipping container made Jacob and his wife jump in their skins. Waverly held her breath. Please let it be Jared. Please.

  “Jake? Ginny?” came a gruff male voice. “It’s Tom.”

  The wife, Ginny, he’d called her, picked up a large jagged-edged knife and pointed it at Waverly. She held a finger to her lips.

  “Jesus, you scared us,” Jacob said. He crawled over the landing vehicle to a sliding door at the end of the container and opened it a crack. “What are you doing here?”

  “Brought water. Some fruit.”

  Waverly spied the man for half a moment, and her breath caught in her throat. It was Mather’s Justice of the Peace, the one with the iron jaw and the insignia on his shoulder. His gaze skirted over the interior of the container, but Jacob slipped between him and Waverly, blocking his view.

  “Hiding something?” Tom asked.

  Jacob sniggered.

  “Because some people would be interested to know if you’ve run into anyone.”

  “Nope,” Jacob said.

  There was a pause. Waverly looked from the door to Ginny, to the knife she held. Ginny shook her head at Waverly, slowly, meaningfully.

  “Waverly Marshall went missing,” Tom said. “I thought you might w
ant to know that.”

  “Oh really?” Jacob said, feigning slight interest. “When?”

  “It’s been about twelve hours now.”

  “Haven’t seen her. Wish I had. I’d like to get my hands on her.”

  “Yeah,” Tom said, stretching the word out.

  Through all of this, Waverly’s mind raced. If she opened her mouth, Ginny could stab her right now. If she kept quiet, she might live longer, but …

  “Help!” she called, almost before she’d decided.

  With lightning speed, Ginny darted to a crouch over Waverly and pressed her blade against her neck. Waverly nearly fainted from fear. The room turned orange, then gray.

  “You have her,” the man said. “I knew it.”

  She heard the door sliding open, a brief scuffle, and suddenly Mather’s big guard was standing over her. She stared at him, panting like an animal. Please.

  “What are you going to do with her?” Thomas said. The way he looked at Waverly, with complete detachment, deepened her terror. He’s as bad as they are.

  “None of your business, Tom,” Ginny spat. “She’s ours, fair and square.”

  “I don’t care,” Tom said, holding up his hands. “I’m just telling you. If you’re planning on trading her, you won’t get anything from Anne. The Pastor hates her as much as you do. So you may as well…” He drew his thumb across his neck.

  “We’re not trading her,” Ginny finally said. “That’s not why we took her.”

  “What for, then?” Thomas lifted one corner of his mouth in a confused sneer.

  Ginny stood and pointed a finger at the big guard’s chest. It was almost comical, seeing a tiny woman trying to push around a huge man, but something about her scared Thomas, because he took half a step back. “It’s none of your concern, Tom.”

  “Anyway, you guys are safe here for a while yet,” Thomas said. “But it would sure help me protect you if I knew what you were planning.”

  “Oh, you know,” Ginny said casually. “We’re just trying to help the Pastor out. Get back in her good graces. Show we can be useful, you know. For the mission.”

  Waverly was confused by this, since Ginny had just avowed her hatred for Mather, but she knew not to contradict.

  Thomas nodded. “Well, anything you need from me…”

  “Food is all we need,” Ginny said briskly.

  “Any news?” Jacob asked.

  Thomas rubbed his chin as though trying to recall. “Oh! We found that kid.”

  “Seth?” Jake asked eagerly.

  Waverly froze.

  Thomas nodded, and Jake punched the air and laughed. “I told you he’d get out of the brig, Ginny!”

  “Yeah,” Ginny said and rolled her eyes.

  Waverly felt as if the life had gone out of her. Mather had Seth. Kieran was Mather’s pawn. She’d won. There was no point in fighting anymore. Except Mom, Waverly thought as fresh tears came. What will happen to Mom?

  “He’s hurt,” Thomas said, watching Jacob’s expression. “Want to get a message to him?”

  “Hurt how?” Jacob asked warily.

  “His hand. Bad infection.”

  Waverly remembered Seth’s mangled fingers and the dirty bandage he’d had on his hand. She hadn’t even asked him about it.

  “You can’t do nothing for him?” Jacob asked. “Get him a doctor.”

  “Pastor didn’t say to.” Thomas pulled a sloppily rolled cigarette out of his breast pocket, tapped it against the back of his hand, and picked up the Bunsen burner to light it.

  “Did she say not to get him a doctor?” Jake asked. “Specifically?”

  Waverly looked at Jacob. Genuine concern had softened his features, making him look boyish and strangely kind. When she looked at Ginny, the woman glared at her. She dropped her gaze to the wheel of the landing vehicle and tried to go to a place inside herself.

  “Anyway.” Thomas set the Bunsen burner back under the tin of oatmeal and took a long drag on his cigarette, eyes shifting lazily between Ginny and Jacob. “I’ll be off.”

  “When will you come back?” Ginny asked gruffly.

  “Don’t know. You’ve got food for a few days.”

  “Yeah,” Jacob said.

  “I’ll check back with you.” Thomas stepped out of the container.

  The couple glared silently at each other as they listened to Thomas’s footsteps fade away, then Jacob sat back down on his box. “I don’t like lying to him.”

  “Jake, sometimes you’re so stupid I can’t even believe it.”

  “We can trust Tom. He and I used to play together in grade school.”

  “He’s not a kid anymore, unlike you. He’s loyal to Mather. He’d try to stop us.”

  “Maybe not,” Jake offered, “if I promise to make him my right-hand man when I’m captain.”

  Ginny sneered. “He’s just keeping an eye on us for Mather. He thinks we’re stupid, that we don’t know he’s working for her. And we’ll let him think that until the time comes to make our move.”

  “You’re wrong about him,” Jacob said, staring into the flame of the burner. “You’ll see.”

  “Right,” Ginny said grimly, then glanced angrily at Waverly. Without warning, she kicked Waverly in the leg with the toe of her boot.

  “When I say quiet,” she growled, “you keep your mouth closed. Understand?”

  “Yes,” Waverly whispered.

  “Understand?” Waverly felt a handful of her hair being grabbed and her head wrenched backward. She could smell the woman’s sour breath as she sobbed. “Because you don’t seem to learn very fast.”

  “I’m learning,” Waverly pleaded. “I am.”

  ALLIES

  “Thank you for seeing me,” Kieran said to the ancient man sitting at the mammoth oak desk. Dr. Carver rested his knobby hands on the handle of his beautifully carved cane and stared at Kieran with pinpoint eyes as he worked his jaw around a prune. He picked up a cup and clumsily spat the pit into it, then leaned back in his chair. So this was the evil doctor. He looked to be at death’s door.

  “I was curious to meet you,” the man said, lifting his chin. “Mather’s little friend.”

  Kieran squirmed in his chair, which squeaked embarrassingly. He heard a movement behind him and glanced back to see that the doctor’s assistant stood with his arms folded over his chest, looking at Kieran coldly.

  “You are concerned about Waverly Marshall, I gathered from your text,” the doctor said.

  “I think Jacob Pauley might have found her,” Kieran said.

  “That’s what worries us,” the old man said thoughtfully with a glance at his assistant. “That’s why we’re using all our resources to find her. But I’m afraid I must tell you, young man, we are not holding out much hope.”

  Kieran’s heart sank. This man didn’t seem remotely concerned about Waverly. “Where have you looked for her?”

  “We’ve given the ship a thorough going over.”

  “She was last seen in the storage bay,” Kieran said slowly. “So if Jacob Pauley came across her there, he could be hiding her in a shipping container.”

  The doctor laughed. “So all we need to do is search every container. There’s only, what? Ten, fifteen thousand of them … We’ll find her within the year.”

  Anger surged through Kieran. “What about surveillance? They must be coming and going for supplies.”

  “Mather won’t let us near the video system.”

  “We could set up cameras of our own.” Kieran turned to look at the assistant, who was watching him. “Hook them into a computer network wired separately from the central com system. Mather won’t even know about it.”

  The old man pulled on the end of his nose a couple times. “All right. Jared, will you see to it?”

  “Of course,” the assistant said quietly. The old man turned toward his computer screen, shooing Kieran away.

  “There’s one other thing,” Kieran said in a rush. “Waverly told me you’re a neurologist? Th
at you might be able to cure our parents?”

  The old man squirmed, but he arranged his withered features into a regretful smile. “I made no promises.”

  “Can you help?” Kieran said with barely controlled rage. “My mother is very … damaged.”

  The doctor lowered his eyes in a dim imitation of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I have been … unsuccessful.”

  “What have you tried?” Kieran pressed. “What kind of drug did the damage?”

  “It’s all very technical,” he said with a wave of the hand. “I couldn’t explain it.”

  “I’m very smart,” Kieran said slowly. “Why don’t you try?”

  “I haven’t explored all the avenues,” the doctor replied. “I’ll know more soon.”

  Kieran watched the old man’s nose twitch once, twice. He’s lying, Kieran suddenly knew with murderous certainty. He doesn’t care about helping our parents. He doesn’t care about finding Waverly. He’s been lying to her all along.

  “I can understand the Pastor’s interest in you,” the doctor was saying to Kieran, nodding toward the door. “You’re an intelligent, passionate young man.”

  Kieran stood, eyeing the doctor with unvarnished hatred, but immediately the assistant moved next to him. Jared was slightly taller than Kieran, and light on his feet. He looked wiry and strong, but his subservience to this weak old man was puzzling. Jared gestured toward the door and Kieran followed him through it. Jared kept his pace even with Kieran’s, and when they reached the end of the corridor, he opened the door for him, cocking his head toward the stairs.

  They walked down a flight together before Jared finally spoke. “If we want to help Waverly,” he said quietly, his head turned away from the camera, “we’ll have to do it ourselves.”

  Kieran stopped, but with a glance at the security camera over them, Jared pulled Kieran down to the next level. Kieran didn’t see a microphone attached to the camera and guessed that Jared had taken him here so they could talk without anyone else hearing.

  “The doctor doesn’t want to find her?” Kieran asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Jared said. His voice was gravelly with fatigue, and he rubbed at his red eyes with his thumb and index finger. “Anyway, he’s not too concerned.”