Sifters (Sifters Series Book 1)

by Shane Scollins

  “Two for me.” She looked back to Dia. “And give me three for my friend.”

  The man looked at Dia and nodded. He peered into one of the boxes. “Hmm, this will do.” He handed it to Chloe and carried the rest of the stack over to a small scooter with a crate on the back. He stacked the boxes into the crate, strapped them in, and eased out of the alley with a beep-beep from a tinny-metallic sounding horn.

  Chloe faced Dia and opened the box. Dia took hold of a slice and sank her teeth into the soft, chewy, cheesy goodness. It was stacked with sausage, pepperoni, and peppers. It was about the best thing she’d ever tasted. “Oh my God, this is soooo good.”

  “Slow down, girl, there’s more.” Chloe sat on a makeshift bench, a piece of wood spanning between two stacks of tires, and ate.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve had pizza I can’t even tell you.”

  Chloe raised one brow. “Really? I eat it all the time.” She took another bite. “So what are you doing around here?”

  Dia swallowed her mouthful. “I’m looking for my brother.” She didn’t mean to say that, but it slipped. Maybe it was pizza euphoria or something. Maybe it was the blood-sugar high. But whatever it was, it was too late.

  “Is he missing or something?”

  “Sort of. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “Where’s he at?”

  Dia took another bite. “He’s in school.”

  “I’m confused. Why’re you looking for him if you know where he is?”

  Dia chewed a large bite. She didn’t know this girl from anything. She never trusted a stranger, and only trusted a friend half the time. “It’s a long story, a long, boring story. I left home, and haven’t seen him for a while.”

  Chloe smiled. “Yeah, huh, that sounds fishy. But that’s cool. You don’t know me from a hole in the wall.”

  Dia nodded. She was just thinking that and wondered for a moment if she’d said it out loud. But she knew she didn’t. She took hold of another piece of pizza and tossed the box into the dumpster. “It’s just a very complicated situation.”

  Chloe nodded. “Aren’t they all?”

  Dia bit off a piece of crust. “I guess so.”

  “My brother says complications are opportunities to overcome adversity.”

  Dia swallowed. “That’s very cool, I like that.”

  “Yeah, he’s a smart guy.”

  Dia looked up at the hazy sky. “Is it going to rain?”

  Chloe glanced up. “I don’t think so. It’s just one of those gray, hazy days.”

  “I love rain.”

  “Me too, it’s so cleansing.”

  “Yeah. I love that feeling after the rain, it’s the best.”

  At the same time they said, “I love the smell.” They shared a look.

  “Hey,” Chloe quipped. “Great minds?”

  Dia wiped her mouth. “The only better smell is freshly cut grass.”

  Chloe frowned. “I never really smelled it.”

  “What? How’s that possible?”

  Chloe motioned to the ground. “There’s not really a lot of grass around here. And I’ve only been out of the city a few times since we got here. And I’ve been here since I was a kid.”

  “Oh, it’s nice. It’s just so clean and fresh. What about the parks? Don’t they cut that grass?”

  Chloe smiled broadly. “I’m just screwing with you!” She laughed. “Of course I’ve smelled cut grass. Who doesn’t love it? You’re kind of gullible.”

  Dia firmed her lips. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

  Chloe playfully slapped her knee. “I’m just playing.” She hopped up off the bench to her feet. “I guess that was unfair. You don’t know my sarcastic tone of voice yet.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Chloe asked, “So what’re you doing the rest of the day? Do you have a job?”

  Dia shook her head. “Not really.”

  Chloe leaned her shoulder into the wall of the building. “So, you have no money, no job, and I’m going to jump out on a limb here and assume you have no place to stay.”

  Dia shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it. I don’t plan to be here for long.”

  “Well, you can’t sleep on the streets. I don’t care how tough you are.”

  Dia agreed. “There’s always someone tougher.”

  “You proved that to me today. And it doesn’t matter how tough you are when you’re sleeping.”

  “I can find a shelter.”

  “You don’t want those places. A pretty fish like you—you won’t be safe to sleep with one eye open.”

  Dia capped her water and slid it into the netted pouch on the side of her backpack. “What do you suggest I do? I can’t afford a hotel.”

  Chloe stood, adjusted the waist on her loose-fitting shorts. “You can stay with me.”

  Dia frowned. “Why would you let a complete stranger stay with you?”

  Chloe twisted her lips and shrugged. “You’re not a stranger. We ate pizza together.” She turned her palms up. “I don’t know, call it a gut feeling, but you got a good vibe about you. I like your style. And the truth is I don’t have a lot of friends. I tend to push people away. I turn them off because I’m a bitch.”

  “You don’t seem like a bitch.”

  “See, that’s my point. I treated you like shit, I started a fight with you fercrissakes, and you hit me back. People don’t hit me back, they back down.”

  “Well, you were kinda bitchy. I guess. But those fronts don’t bother me.”

  “That’s what I mean. You’re a weird girl, Dia, a very weird girl.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Yeah, me too, and we can smell our own. So if you want, you can hang with me tonight.”

  Dia took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, you’re on.”

  Chapter 8

  Tallon turned the key in the heavy lock and rolled up the steel door of the storage unit. He shined the flashlight inside and clicked on the overhead lights. After ditching his Kawasaki into the river, he was down to five bikes. He liked to have at least five at any given moment so it wasn’t necessary to buy a new one.

  Killing those scumbag child porn producers wasn’t a paying job, it was a public service. But the cops would still be looking for the guy on a neon green Kawasaki Ninja. The law was mostly corrupt. Every precinct had some political agenda in order to keep funding. It was best to dump the bike and forget about it forever. If it were ever found, none of the cops would be too determined to find the killer of some child porn pushers.

  He stepped behind his Suzuki Hyabusa and pushed the black and yellow machine outside the garage. He then stripped out of his damp leathers and tossed them into a black bag hanging on the wall. Standing naked, he let the cool breezes of the night wash over his body.

  Flexing his muscled frame to work out a few kinks, he realized he missed his workout this evening. He kept his body in peak physical condition with religious exercise programs that included heavy weight lifting and hours of cardio. He ate only healthy foods and never drank alcohol or took drugs.

  This lifestyle was not because he was vain and cared how he looked; he didn’t. It was because in his line of work being strong and fast as possible was paramount. Danger waited around every corner, and in spite of his seemingly reckless behavior, he wanted to live a long life. Sometimes he had to take chances, but they were always well calculated.

  Glancing down at the luminous dial on his watch, he saw it was time to get moving again. After wasting time on one of his personal ventures, it was time to do his actual job before Arlon had an anxiety attack.

  He walked over to the trunk on the floor and pulled out some navy boxers, black cargo pants, and a black T-shirt. He always dressed in all black tactical gear. He strapped on his shoulder holster loaded with his trusty Sig Sauer pistol, zipped on a Kevlar tactical vest, and walked over to the far side of the unit.

  On the wall were several leather riding jackets, and he plucked a black one w
ith yellow piping that matched his Suzuki and pulled it on.

  There was a noise outside. A nascent shadow angled in from the moonlight and cast along the tarmac in front of the garage. He put a hand on his gun just in case. But the click-clack of women’s shoes cutting the night became clear.

  He saw the long legs tightly covered in white fishnet stocking and a skirt so short it should be illegal. It could only be one person.

  She took a step into the garage. “Hey there, stranger.”

  He nodded to the statuesque, hazel-eyed, blonde beauty who stood before him. “Jocelyn, haven’t seen you in two days.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been crazy busy.”

  “You doin’ okay?”

  “Better now. I thought I might find you here.”

  “Have I become predictable?”

  “Well, five scumbags whacked, and the cops are fishing a bike out of the river—”

  “Five scumbags? There were supposed to be six.” He mumbled that last part to himself.

  “One of them lived. You’re slipping up.”

  “Who lived?”

  “Douglas Colgan, CEO of Fast Cat Entertainment.”

  Tallon scratched his head. “Damn.”

  “Don’t worry, he’s messed up pretty badly. He won’t be having a very good life. And he certainly won’t be producing any child porn.” She strode over to the motorcycle parked outside, letting her hand glide over the ribbed seat as she walked around it. “Breaking out the ‘Busa. What’s the occasion?”

  “I need to make a run outside.”

  “You’re going alone?”

  He nodded and zipped his leather jacket.

  She bit her lip. “I can ride wingman if you need backup.”

  He looked her up and down. “Dressed like a hooker?”

  “I can change.”

  “Why are you dressed like a hooker?”

  She pulled on her stockings, tore at the holes until it ripped. “I was hunting.”

  He shook his head. “Jocelyn, he’s dangerous. You don’t want to come up against that guy.”

  “I can handle him.”

  “I told you I’d get him.” He didn’t tell her, but he had a good hunch it was a pair of killers at work.

  “Tallon, he’s killed eight girls in four months. And you know the cops are not going to do anything about some dead hookers.”

  “Just give me time to catch up.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. “When the hell’s that going to be, after he murders another five of my girls?”

  “They’re not your girls.”

  “They’re not anyone’s girls, Tallon. But I’m the only one willing to protect them, the only one willing to stand up for them. I look out for them. I never forget where I came from, but maybe you do.”

  She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm. Tallon had promised to help her, but he’d gotten preoccupied with his own issues. Sometimes he was too selfish to remember there were other people with problems. “I’m sorry, Joce. I said I would help, and I didn’t.”

  She pushed him away softly. “Well, you’re a selfish asshole. You can’t help it.”

  “You’re the last person I want to piss off.”

  She raised her brow. “I should be. I’m the only person willing to put up with your shit.”

  He plucked one of the helmets off the shelf above his head. “I have to do this job. When I get back, I promise, I will help you find this guy.”

  She crossed her arms. “Okay, if you promise.”

  “But you have to promise me, you won’t try and come up against him yourself. I know you’re tough as nails, but this is a different situation. I have a pretty good hunch we’re looking for two people. To take down so many girls, who’re looking out for it, there has to be something more to this. God only knows what sort of maniacs we’re dealing with. I care about you—you know that.” He smiled. “And please for the love of God, take off those clothes.” He winked, slid on the helmet, and fired up the bike. “Close that door for me.”

  Jocelyn saluted him. “Via con Dios.”

  He sped out of the storage lot.

  On the clogged streets, he slotted quickly through the narrow boulevards to the expressway. Once out on the open road, Tallon turned the Suzuki throttle to the stops and started clicking gears.

  He crossed the bridge into the annex and slowed a bit to conserve some gasoline. It was in his best interest to save as much as possible just in case. He didn’t want to spend any extra time outside. They would blow him up and steal whatever he had on him.

  As soon as he passed the annex border checkpoint the highway opened up. He was the only vehicle that dared press into the open world of the lawless by choice. Not many people from the inside would go outside. The only traffic was generally the sector workers and pushers.

  Just a few hundred yards beyond the last bit of electricity, the darkness swallowed him up. Even the bright beam from his headlamps felt inadequate in the lightless land. To his left just off the highway he saw several fires, the burning barrels of the outskirt encampments. Tallon knew those were good people. They didn’t deserve to be left out to rot with the scumbags.

  To the average person inside the city, everyone out here was scum with no exceptions. If they didn’t get the golden ticket into the city, they weren’t worth an ounce of their air or a moment of their time. Or at least that’s the front they all put up. The real truth was far different, as many people in the city still had friends and family out here who they wondered about when alone in the dark.

  His family was one of the fortunate. His father was military, a high-ranking colonel in the Army, and he was ushered right into the city annex when the shit hit the fan. Right after the first of the downward spirals, after the solar flares knocked out most of the energy grid, all the military leaders and their families were moved into the cities with as little fanfare as possible. They booked every hotel and rented every apartment they could find.

  Then when the meteor showers started pelting random areas of the planet, all hell broke loose and the lockdown started. Hundreds of millions of people were killed in a matter of weeks.

  Tallon extinguished his headlights and rode blind in the dark until he came to the exit ramp. He pulled off the highway slowly, creeping into the valley of the warehouses that once served as a massive shipping hub. Trains and big rig trucks used to run in and out of this depot twenty-four hours a day all year, delivering and picking up goods from all over the east coast.

  Tallon stopped at the top of the hill, looking down at the tops of the three rows of rectangular warehouses. They were all perfectly spaced. The moonlight was bright enough to see the entire yard, bright enough to cast shadows. He cut the engine and surveyed the area.

  A deep breath revealed fires were burning in the buildings, just as he suspected. It was too warm for it to be for heat, so it had to be for drug manufacturing. He lurched forward and got the bike rolling silently, letting it coast down the long gradual hill until he came to a dirt parking area. He pulled behind a concrete retaining wall and removed his helmet.

  With gun in hand, Tallon crept down the narrow path between the first two buildings. The pea gravel crunched under his low-cut hiking boots. He sliced around the edge of a building and started down the next path between two walls. The grinding stones under his feet gave him an uneasy feeling. It was masking all ambient sounds. But the chilling sound at his back of someone chambering a round into a shotgun stood out and stopped him in his tracks.

  A man with a gravely voice said, “You just found a world of hell, stranger.”

  Tallon gripped the handle of his pistol. He could tell by the sound that the man was close, too close for him to come up with a move that would allow him to turn and fire.

  “I’m not here for you,” Tallon said.

  “How d’you know who I am?”

  Tallon turned slowly, keeping his gun hand at his side. “I know who I’m looking for. You’re not him.”

&n
bsp; The man narrowed his eyes. A dagger of moonlight lit the top half of his pocked face. “That’s nice, but how do you know who I am?”

  “I don’t care who you are. I know who he is.”

  He eyed Tallon up and down. “You’re not a Sifter.”

  Tallon didn’t reply.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” The man leveled the gun. “I have to kill you.”

  “Do you kill everyone?”

  He nodded. “If I have to. I’m ‘specially gonna blast some trespassin’ Juicer.”

  Tallon knew this man was going to kill him. And he knew he had one chance. He’d already eased his free hand into his pocket and squeezed open the bag of chalk powder. He kept it in there for several reasons, but he’d never used it for this.

  “Why do you want to kill me?” Tallon curled his fingers, grabbing a fistful of the powder.

  “Cuz you ain’t from ‘round here. This is my property. No one comes or goes unless I say. You’re trespassin’, and you ain’t one of us on top of it.”

  “And the sentence for that is death?”

  “You bet it is. I’ll hang your body up at the driveway as a warning.”

  “Well, I guess you have to do what you have to do.”

  He raised the gun to his shoulder. “It’s not personal.”

  “It never is.”

  “Make your peace with God.”

  In a flash, Tallon whipped his hand from his pocket, threw the powder in the man’s face, and fell straight back to the gravel.

  The shotgun blasted the night. Tallon fired two shots while on his back, hitting the man in the torso. The man groaned and dropped to his knees. Tallon fired one more shot, and he went down face-first.

  Chapter 9

  Dia rode her bike slowly as Chloe walked. They were a few blocks past the tallest buildings of Manhattan and into a more residential area. The stink of the city was worse at times than Dia ever imagined, but it was getting tolerable by the second. It only got real nasty when walking past the large dumpsters that were sometimes overflowing.