Sifters (Sifters Series Book 1)

by Shane Scollins

  She felt a little bit of uncharacteristic anxiety over the fact that Chloe hadn’t come to meet her yet. It had been well over an hour, so she crept out of the building. Looking out toward the street, she didn’t see a sign of anyone around. After debating it, she finally decided to go back to the firehouse. It was risky. If she ran into the cops, she’d have no identification, and that wouldn’t be a good situation. They would certainly arrest her.

  She mounted her bike and started climbing the hill away from the water. At the top of the crest, she felt her stomach growl with hunger. Stopping to dig through her backpack to find her bag of peanuts and raisins, she found the stash. Dumping a handful of the mix into her mouth, she resealed the zipper on the plastic bag and started riding again.

  Peanuts and raisins were her staple food. She’d basically lived on them for the past few years. They didn’t need refrigeration and lasted for months in a sealed bag. The people who survived out in the wastelands were the ones who could subsist on basic nutrition. She’d gotten used to not having meat often. For a price, turkey, chicken, and fish would make the rounds into the encampments, but for the most part, whatever could grow in the ground was the best source of protein.

  She pulled to a stop one block from the firehouse. There were no cops milling about, so she started down the block and rode up to the door. Leaning in, she knocked three times. There was no answer.

  Her intuition told her something was wrong. It was too quiet, but maybe Chloe had left. She knocked again harder, and the door swung open slowly. “Chloe?”

  Dia stuck her head inside and swallowed hard. The place was torn apart. Things were strewn on the floor, some furniture was flipped over. She took a step inside, and Chloe was on the floor.

  In a few quick steps Dia was next to her, checking her pulse. She was alive but bleeding from the head. “Chloe?” There was no response. She shook her shoulder gently. “Chloe, can you hear me?”

  Dia had no idea what to do except get her to a hospital. She was no medical expert, but there was a lot of blood on the floor, and her breathing was rapid and shallow. Those were not good signs.

  She stood up, looked around, and didn’t realize there was a large man standing in the doorway. He was looking at her, his face filled with rage. He had a body that appeared to be carved from granite. His sharply angled brows and direct eyes conveyed the anger in his soul, and Dia felt like it was pointed at her.

  The man came at her. Dia went into automatic defensive combat mode and assumed a fight stance.

  He stopped and met her eyes. “Are you going to fight me?”

  Dia was ready. “If I have to.”

  He ignored her and bent to Chloe, gently stroked her forehead. “Chloe, can you open your eyes for me?” He moved his hands to her neck, head, and felt the pulse on her wrist.

  Dia eased her stance, but went right back into it when he stood upright.

  “What happened here?” he asked.

  Dia shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  He stepped toward her.

  She retreated a single step. “I’m warning you! I can defend myself, so don’t make me.”

  He asked again, “What happened here?”

  “I told you—I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying to me.” He reached out to grab her arm.

  Dia knocked his hand away. “I didn’t do this.”

  He stuck a muscled fist in her direction. “We have to get her some help. We can’t do this now.”

  “Who are you?” Dia asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing. After all, you’re in my house.”

  “You’re Chloe’s brother.”

  He ran to the desk in the corner and pulled out a set of keys. He tossed the keys across the room to Dia. “You drive.”

  He bent and scooped Chloe off the floor, hurried out the door, and started down the block. Dia followed. They came upon a red four-door Volkswagen sedan. He opened the back door and slid into the seat with Chloe.

  Dia climbed nervously into the driver seat. She didn’t want to admit she’d only driven a car a few times in her entire life. Lucky for her, this one had an automatic transmission. She started the engine and cautiously pulled away from the curb.

  “Where am I going?”

  “Take your third right, your second left, and follow the river for ten blocks.”

  Dia took to driving rather easily. There wasn’t much traffic here. The lessons her father had given her a few years ago paid off. By the time she was old enough to drive, there were no longer driver’s licenses or a DMV out in the wastelands.

  Dia counted the blocks, turning where she was told to and drove along the river.

  “There, that building with all the glass, the one with the blue sign. Park right in front.”

  Dia pulled the car in front and jumped out. She ran around and opened the car door for him as he carried Chloe to the front door, which opened automatically.

  “Ebo,” he yelled.

  A tall, lithe, brown-haired woman with almond eyes leaned out a door of the spacious but remarkably plain lobby. She saw the seriousness of the situation and ran up to them.

  “What happened?” she asked in a slight accent that Dia thought was perhaps British.

  “She’s lost a lot of blood.”

  The woman led them down a hallway into a pristine white examination room. “Set her on the table.” She picked up a phone on the wall. “Larry, I need you and Claire down here stat.” She hung up the phone and put a hand to the man’s chest. “Wait outside, she’s in good hands.”

  Dia paced the hallway. She was nervous for Chloe, but also for herself. She hadn’t even embarked on her mission yet, and already bad things were happening.

  She didn’t see him coming, but Chloe’s brother pushed her hard against the wall, pinning her. Dia struggled to break his grasp, but he had her just about off the ground, putting pressure on her neck.

  “If she dies, so help me God.”

  Dia reached out and tried to grab his ear to twist his head, but he blocked her attempt. She tried to kick him, but he blocked that one too. He let her down, her instincts kicked in, and she unleashed a series of kicks and punches. He blocked every single one with apparent ease.

  She was a little out of breath, not from being out of shape, but from exasperation and emotion. She wasn’t thinking clearly, and frustrated fighters were no good. For the first time her in life she felt utterly defeated, physically dominated. It made her angry and drove her at the same time to attack again. It was not in her makeup to give up, or to lose.

  With a scream she went at him again, faking with a midsection attack and switching up high with a shot to his face. She connected, and he staggered back a step. It felt good, and she tried again, but he blocked it.

  She kicked at his knee, but he blocked that too. Her fury was blocked and deflected at every turn, but she didn’t relent. Finally, after several more blocks, he punched at her. She dodged it and fired a punch and connected with his midsection, but it was rock solid. She threw another punch, but he deflected it before it hit his jaw. She fired another one and missed, never missed… she was in trouble.

  He grabbed her flailing arm, yanked, and spun her off balance until he was able to flip her off her feet onto her back with a savvy leverage move.

  He placed his boot-clad foot on her neck. “Are you done?”

  She pushed at his leg, trying to twist him off her. But he didn’t relent. Finally, Dia flung her legs up over her head and broke free of his pin move.

  He wasn’t even breathing hard. It was making her even madder. “I didn’t hurt Chloe. She’s my friend, she helped me.”

  “I know you didn’t hurt her. But I’m also not an idiot. I don’t even have to investigate to know that she could’ve been hurt because of you.”

  Dia felt the pangs of guilt. She couldn’t argue, since he could be right. “I don’t know what happened.”

  “Bullshit. I know the smell of a microwave-fried sector
card.” He got in Dia’s face. “Whose card was that?”

  Dia shrugged.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Dia met his eyes. They were stone cold, hazel and fierce. She refused to look away, though she wanted to. A single bead of sweat appeared on his forehead just below the hairline of his short-cropped blond hair.

  He looked both ways down the hall, grabbed Dia by the arm, and pulled her into the lobby from where they’d entered. She didn’t try to break away, he let go, and she followed him to the glass windows near the front door.

  “That’s my little sister in there. She’s one of the few things in this world I care about. So you’re going to tell me who you are, and what you were doing standing over her body, in my house. I want you to tell me everything, right now.”

  She looked at him, determined at first not to comply, but after a few seconds, she took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “My name is Dia. I met Chloe earlier. We ate pizza together. She invited me to stay with her, so we came here. We were just talking when an alarm started sounding. She took my card and put it into the microwave and told me to go to the docks and wait for her. When she didn’t show up, I came back, worried.” She hated telling him. If he called the cops, she was in trouble. They’d toss her into a cell for three months, and by then Ray would be gone forever.

  “And you’re an illegal, with an illegal card.”

  Dia nodded. “Like I said, Chloe trashed it and told me to go to the docks and wait for her. She never came, so I came back, and that’s when you came in. That’s everything I know.”

  He crossed his arms on his chest. The muscles in his cheeks flexed, only slightly less than the ripples on his forearms that moved with every twitch of his fingers.

  He shook his head and pulled a phone from his pocket. Dia had gotten so used to never seeing those that it looked strange. But she had to remember that inside the cities life had continued to progress. They still had technology and all the goodies.

  He dialed the phone. “Hey, you guys had an alarm in zone twenty-seven earlier tonight. What was it for?” He nodded. “Okay, no, that’s it. Thanks.” He pushed the phone back into the front pocket of his black cargo pants. “The alarm wasn’t for you.”

  Dia felt better. Maybe she had nothing to do with what happened to Chloe after all. “I’m glad to hear that.” She thought for a second. “Are you a cop?”

  He ignored her question. “You still put my sister in danger by being here. Where are you from? And what are you doing here?”

  Dia was not telling the truth. “I’m just here for work. I borrowed the sector card to come into the city and make some cash.”

  He eyed her. “What’s the job?”

  She stammered, “I – I don’t know.” She wished she’d thought this through better as far as cover stories went. But she didn’t expect to need one.

  “You don’t know?” He narrowed his eyes. “Who gave you the card?”

  “I don’t know. I was supposed to meet someone who told me about it.”

  He tilted his head, curled a smile. “You’re lying to me. And you’re not even a very good liar. There are only two reasons you’d be lying to me. Either you had something to do with what happened to Chloe, or you’re a Sifter.”

  Dia hated that word. She didn’t consider herself a Sifter, and the word stung. It was a slur to those inside the cities. “I’m not a Sifter.”

  “You fight like one.”

  “I’m a survivor.”

  “That’s exactly what a Sifter might say.”

  “No,” she yelled, “I’m not a Sifter!”

  “Then, once again. Who are you?”

  “I told you.”

  “No, you didn’t. You told me lies.”

  Dia firmed her lips. “I told you, I’m here for work. I borrowed the card.”

  “You’re a liar, and I don’t like liars. As soon as Chloe is stable, I’m taking you out of the city and dumping you back into the wasteland. If you’re a resident, you’ll get back in by going to the commission of affairs and giving him your resident identification number.”

  “No, you can’t!”

  He smiled. “Because you don’t have a number, do you? Then I’ll call the cops and have them deal with you. I know people. You can’t get away from me, so don’t even try running.”

  Dia tilted her head back. This was bad. There was no way she was getting back into the city. There was no way she’d find another sector card in time. She was a complete failure, and now Ray was going to pay for it.

  “Wait right here!” He turned and walked away down the hallway.

  She wanted to run, but she didn’t. She just stood there numbly.

  Chapter 12

  Tallon stood over the bed, then bent to kiss her forehead and brush a pink strand of hair off her face. He looked over to Alice Ebota. He’d called her Ebo since the night she’d save his life from two bullet wounds. “How bad is it, Ebo?”

  Ebo shook her head slowly. “She’s a strong girl, just like her big brother. We won’t know until the swelling in her brain goes down.” Ebo lived most of her life in India and England, though she was American. But she’d developed a slight accent that stuck with her.

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  She shrugged. “Worst case scenario? She may never wake up.”

  He rose. “Keep this room on lockdown. I don’t want anyone in here until I know who did this.”

  Ebo nodded once.

  Tallon walked out to the foyer where Dia paced. The girl impressed him. He was a superior fighting machine who had trained for the better part of his life with the best in the world. He maintained a well-tuned human physique. It was not easy to impress him with physical prowess, but she did. She pushed him a lot harder than he let on to her.

  Dia looked at him nervously. “How is she?”

  “It’s too soon to tell. Doc says she might never wake up.”

  Dia raked her teeth over her lip and shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You should be!” He pointed to the door. “I’m going to give you three hours to get out of the city. Go back to the house, get your stuff, and get lost. If I see you again, I won’t be so nice.”

  Dia dropped her head, turned, and went out the door.

  Tallon sighed. He was second-guessing himself too much lately. Finding out who did this to Chloe was now his only concern. He didn’t care about the politics and the bullshit at Cortech right now.

  His phone rang, as if on cue. It was Arlon McQuaid. “Arlon, what do you want? I’m very busy.”

  “Did you take care of our little problem?”

  “Which one?”

  “The black one.”

  He paused for a beat. “There was a complication.”

  “What? What complication? I don’t like complications.”

  “I’ll be by soon.” He ended the call.

  He turned back to the hallway and saw Ebo looking at him. Walking up to her, he tried not to think about the worst possible scenario. “I’m going to send two guards to watch this place just to be safe. I don’t want anyone other than me, you, and your staff in there.”

  “Done.”

  “Thank you, Ebo, this means a lot.”

  “Tallon, if not for your contributions, this clinic would have closed years ago. You’ve single-handedly allowed me to treat thousands of patients who would’ve never been able to get medical treatment. You’ve kept my dreams alive. I’d do anything for you and Chloe, you know that.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” He nodded solemnly and turned to walk outside.

  He looked at the car parked near the curb, but didn’t feel like getting into it. So he just turned and walked down the street.

  Keeping Ebo’s clinic open was a no-brainer for him. She never asked for a dime, but she was a great doctor, working a great cause. There was no way he was going to let that place close on his watch. All the working girls in the city went there for free medical care thanks to Jocelyn, and countless people who co
uldn’t afford expensive medical coverage would wander in from time-to-time. It might go against his selfish nature, but it was the one thing he gave back to society.

  Lifting his eyes, he saw the radio tower jutting up from the Cortech building several blocks away. Not too long ago that was the symbol of American prosperity to him. Getting the job at Cortech was a matter of perfect timing. He really didn’t even want it, but the pay was too ridiculous to pass up considering his lack of real world experience. He’d spent his entire adult life in the military, he didn’t do private sector at that time. But after a few years he’d gotten used to living with the freedom of civilian life.

  The city hummed along, walkers and bikers darting off in every direction. As usual, people opened a wide path for him on the sidewalk. He knew he was an imposing figure. The fact he was always wearing a tactical vest with Kevlar probably played no small part in that.

  Chloe had to be okay. She would be. Their father’s dying wish was that he take care of his baby sister. He tried his best to be a brother and a provider, but he lacked in being any sort of father figure. He loved Chloe, but sometimes he forgot to say it.

  Back at Cortech, Tallon headed up the stairs. It was ten floors, but he never took the elevators unless he was in a hurry. He passed by Arlon’s office and went toward his own to do some research.

  “Tallon.” He heard Arlon’s voice, but ignored it. He didn’t make it all the way to the office as Arlon chased him down in a huff. “Tallon, my office, now.”

  Arlon turned back down the spacious gray hallway with the red stripe in Cortech corporate color. Tallon was in no mood for this right now, but he reluctantly followed and shut the door behind him.

  “What’s the crisis now?” Tallon folded his arms. “I have work to do.”

  Arlon scratched his head. “You tell me. What’s the complication? Is Simmonds dead or not?”

  “Not.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “He knows about the island.”

  Arlon pawed nervously at his chin. “How much does he know?”

  “He claims to know everything.”