Heir Ascendant (Faded Skies Book 1)
Page 26
An area about a quarter mile away from the end of the meadow had light and activity, a small town nestled within the endless collection of forgotten scrap. Had Moth and his crew decided to leave her trapped in one of these boxes while they waited for a ransom, she might be dead now. After Vanessa told them to get screwed, they might’ve gone their separate ways and left her there. Maybe someone would’ve heard her screaming, but then she would be truly abandoned. Maya closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of rusting metal, dirt, and a weak trace of food.
I shouldn’t think about that. It didn’t happen. No point giving myself more nightmares.
“You sure this is what you want, kid?” asked Pope.
“I’m this close. I can’t give up on her.” Maya looked from the settlement to him. “Will you take me inside?”
“Sorry, girl. I don’t do the whole people thing. It’s this or back to your Hab block.”
She tapped her foot. “Are you trying to scare me into going home or do you really not want to go in there?”
“Let’s just say I’ve got a few ‘friends’ there who’d not take kindly to seeing me waltz in. I’m probably still faster than them, but I don’t think a gunfight would help your cause out too much, considering you won’t be able to talk to Diego when I get done with him.”
“Uhh. Anything I should know?” She blinked. “Is he dangerous?”
“To you? Probably not. He’s elbow deep in everything going on out here that people don’t want the Authority to know about. That tends to make a guy paranoid. Don’t gamble with him though. Bastard cheats.”
“I won’t.” She took a few steps forward. “Thank you. Will you help me back to the Hab if… if… she’s… umm. Yeah.”
Pope put his hand on her head, patted her, and ran it down onto her back. “Can you find your way back to that manhole?”
“Yeah.” She sniffled.
“I s’pose I could relocate to a safer spot. If you need someone to watch out for you, maybe I could. Perhaps there’s an order to the way things work after all.”
Maya hugged him. “I have to try and help my mom. If I can’t, I’d like it if you could take me home. Maybe you could stay there. I’ve got a friend who’s probably really mad at me for running off.” She sniffled.
“I’ll sit around here for a while. Somethin’ goes wrong in there, you holler.”
“Okay.” Maya felt stupid for the second time since Genna went missing, but Pope would be waiting right here. It shouldn’t be too dangerous to go talk to someone. “I’ll come back if he can’t help me.”
Pope nodded.
Maya stared at the lights of the settlement, gathered her courage, and ventured in among the scrap.
he dark had never really been frightening to Maya. Something about this place, however, made her jump at every fleeting shadow and lent haste to her gait. At home, she seldom bothered with lights. Not that they’d have come on if she wanted. Vanessa liked to save on power.
It hadn’t mattered much though. The ambient glow of the city outside provided enough illumination to function, and the dimness offered a quiet comfort contrary to the frenetic blaze of lights she associated with advertising shoots. Invisibility compared to the spotlight. Vanessa would’ve turned every light in the place on had she been there, but she almost never showed up. Why visit the closet where you store your advertising materials.
Maya scowled.
Okay, now I’m feeling sorry for myself. F―forget Vanessa.
Metal creaked and groaned with each shift in the wind. She looked up and around at the cargo boxes piled eight and nine high in places, wondering if enough of a breeze might send them crashing down. Each one as big as a cargo truck―a whole stack falling on someone wouldn’t leave much to scrape up. Repetitious squeaking emanated from somewhere overhead in a woman’s voice. A man groaned. Maya cringed and hustled up to a jog, passing an emaciated man who lay against a blue cargo box under a white symbol that resembled a poppy. He looked at her, though his gaze seemed to go through her, not seeing her. The man raised a plastic straw to his lips and sucked on it. A faint trace of mint in the air made her cover her mouth. She didn’t want to breathe in any drugs.
The Spread felt much bigger inside than she expected. From every scrap, stack, or trailer, thick shadows crept outward, cast by the brilliant glare emanating from the Sanctuary Zone less than a mile away. Any one of them might hold a dangerous wild dog, a desperate doser, someone like Mr. Mason, or maybe a guy like Cherry Red who talked about his game of target-shooting kids. Even if he had only said it to scare them off before they shot Dave, it was still mean.
She swiveled to glance back to the south, feeling stupid for not staying with Pope as well as annoyed with him for not coming inside with her. Maybe he thought the place safe enough, or figured she’d chicken out.
Maya allowed herself to relax a little. He’d held her down when she tried to storm out in front of the Authority. He wouldn’t let her do something foolish. Because he’d let her go on her own, this place must be at least mostly safe.
She emerged from a deep shadow into a courtyard formed by a ring of trailers and a few ramshackle buildings made of welded sheet metal and old truck parts. The overall aesthetic of the settlement reminded her of an Old West movie where everything had been made out of rusting metal, appliances, and repurposed machines.
A hand-painted sign reading ‘The Devil’s Hangover’ swayed on short chains over the door to a long, grey-walled building. It looked like someone had welded a number of cargo boxes together and added extra walls made from cinder blocks and corrugated steel. Two doors taken from a tractor-trailer cab, one white and one metallic purple, hung in the opening, an end-of-the-world version of a swinging saloon entrance. She walked up three dusty wooden steps onto a porch made of plywood sheeting atop more cinder blocks.
The trip through the Jigsaw River had left her filthy, as though she went for a roll in a pile of mud and charcoal bits. She swatted at her nightdress in a feeble attempt to clean up a little. Men’s voices inside laughed and joked about ‘stupid Koreans’ and stuff they’d seen overseas during the war. Another man insisted the Koreans didn’t really start it, and the entire conflict furballed out of something that happened in the Middle East over oil. A new voice blamed religion and got into a shouting match defending Koreans against the guy who hated them. Another man insisted governments in general bred corruption. A woman shouted in agreement that all government can go to hell.
“Who cares who the hell started it? It’s done.” She grumbled. “You’re already into it for five beers, Vance. I better see some cash or I’m going to have to get Diego involved.”
“Come here, darlin’,” said the guy who had an issue with Koreans.
Maya shoved herself into the white truck door and forced it open. It yielded with a grating squeal of metal that had the stereotypical effect of causing everything going on inside the place to halt dead. Five men, two women, and one skinny longhaired Hispanic guy behind the bar all stared at her.
She pushed the door out of her way, grunting from the weight. Two steps in, she let go and dodged as it swung closed. The continuous reek-reek of it swaying back and forth seemed loud enough to hear all the way back in Block 13. One of the women gave her a pathetic ‘aww’ stare. The other didn’t bat an eyelash and continued walking two drinks to a table where a pair of middle-aged men sat.
The bartender gawked at her; he seemed caught in a struggle between yelling ‘get out’ and wanting to hear the punch line of a joke starting with ‘a little girl in a nightie walked into a bar.’
One of the men at the table of three broke out in a cold sweat, staring at her. Maya kept still until everyone except for the man behind the bar and the sweaty guy went back to what they had been doing. As soon as she started walking into the room, the terrified man jumped to his feet and pulled a gun.
“Run! She’s gonna explode!”
Maya shrieked and sprinted to cover behind the corner of the bar.
He almost got the weapon pointed at her before his two friends tackled him. He screamed ‘it’s a bomb’ and ‘get away’ repeatedly while his buddies shouted at him to calm down, reminding her of the way Genna brought Moth back from the brink. As pathetic as she felt, she understood how he’d mistaken her for one of those androids. She looked like she’d crawled out of a wasteland.
The bartender shook his head, causing a long, thin moustache and goatee to sway. Between his slender build and long, black hair, he could pass for a woman from behind. He stared at her with a mixture of incredulity and annoyance. A red cartoon demon on his black tee shirt held up one hand with the index and pinky finger raised while licking the knuckles between them.
Once it seemed the crazy man would no longer shoot her, she climbed a stool and plopped herself down, swinging her feet while gazing up at the bartender. “Are you Diego?”
“Little young for your fan club, ey vato?” yelled a man behind her.
The bartender used his middle finger to pick his eye at the man. “Who’s asking?”
“I need to get into the Sanctuary Zone without being noticed by the Authority. No checkpoints, no scans.” She crossed her arms on the bar and leaned on them. “Can you do that?”
His grin became a chuckle in a few seconds. “Well, damn. Come right out and ask in the open then. You a mule?”
“No. I’m a girl.” She blinked at him. “What kind of question is that?”
“Hey kid,” yelled a man in the midst of the struggle on the floor. “You real?”
Maya rolled her eyes. “Yes. I’m not a walking nuke.”
“You want a drink, kid?” Diego cocked an eyebrow. “Sounds like you already had a few. No way you should do whatever it is you’re thinking.”
“No, thanks. Alcohol has deleterious effects on the body, especially to someone my age. There’s enough that’ll kill me out here without me doing stupid things… well, at least dumber things than I already am doing. Missy Hong said you can help me. My mother is in a lot of trouble, and I have to get inside the Sanc to help her.”
Diego reached around to the shelf behind the bar and set a bottle of water down in front of her. “Who the heck do you think you are, little one?”
Maya picked up the bottle, examined the label, and opened it. Once a sniff test confirmed ordinary water, she drank about half of it in one shot, then stared at him for a few seconds. “Who do I think I am?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I guess I need to hire a guy to check ID. You’re a bit young for a bar, never mind the whole secret agent stuff.”
Maya pulled her hair off her face and leaned in close, staring at him. “Look at me. Look real good. You tell me who you think I am.”
His amusement lasted another three seconds. His rich tan faded to a deathly pallor; sweat melted out of his face. “No fucking way.”
Maya smiled. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”
“Linda,” yelled Diego. “You’ve got the bar.”
The woman who’d given her the sympathetic glance hustled over. “Sure thing, boss.”
Diego gestured at a doorway a few feet away to the left marked ‘private.’ Maya swiped her water bottle and hopped down from the stool. He nudged the door open and she slipped under his arm into a back room. To the right sat a desk, two sofas facing a giant TV, and a ratty round carpet. On the left, two plain steel shelves held cases and cases of beer, wine, and freeze-dried bar food like chicken nuggets and hot pretzels.
He brushed past her and paced back and forth. “What the hell are you doing out here? Do you have any idea of the shitstorm that’ll roll in on us? No way I’m helping your mother. No offense, but that’s a frozen cunt if there ever was one.”
“Yes, I know.” Maya sipped her water. “But that’s not my mother.”
“What?” He stopped in place like paused video, his belt-length hair wavering in the breeze from a tiny electric fan. “She’s not?”
“Well. I suppose on a genetic level, thirty-seven percent of my chromosomal make up is hers. But, the bitch isn’t my mother in the real sense. My mother’s name is Genna.”
“Oh damn. I heard some mercs mighta nabbed you, but word is they got themselves one of the decoys.” Diego covered his mouth and sank backwards, half sitting on the desk edge. “You’re not an android, are you?”
“No.” Maya picked at the water bottle. “I don’t think so.”
Diego got up and rummaged the top left desk drawer. He returned and held a box up to her, white plastic tube at her lips. “Breathe into that, and keep doin’ it.”
Maya bit down on the straw, inhaling and exhaling. A little arm extended out of the top of the black box and held a lens in front of her right eye. After about ten breaths and some flickering blue light, it emitted a series of chirps.
Diego pulled it back and studied a LCD screen on the underside. Both of his eyebrows shot up. “Well shit. You sure you don’t want anything stronger than water? And whiskey tango foxtrot.”
“I don’t want alcohol, and I’m not in the mood to dance.” Maya drained the bottle. “Thanks for the water.”
“Uhh, right. So, yeah. You’re real. What the hell are you doing here?” He tossed the device in the drawer again before running his hands down the thighs of his jeans in a repetitious, nervous motion that caused the gun on the back of his belt to tap on the desk.
“Missy Hong said you could help me.” Maya let her attitude down a notch. “I need to get my mom out of jail, and to do that I need to get inside the Sanctuary Zone without getting picked up at the gate. If they catch me, they’ll ship me back to Vanessa, and I’ll be basically in jail too. Can I trust you?”
When he nodded, she rushed a summary of getting kidnapped, the ransom going to hell, Genna fighting off Moth to prevent them from killing her, and then winding up taking her in. Diego didn’t seem surprised that Vanessa told them to shoot her while she watched, and gave her a sad stare.
“So. I gotta get her out of there. If I can get back to the penthouse, I can use Vanessa’s terminal to get in to the system and find out where she is. I should be able to send an e-mail posing as her to order Genna’s release… or something.”
He stroked his goatee. “Hmm. That might work. Assuming they haven’t pieced together that she kidnapped you and executed her already.”
Maya scowled.
“I see your point about sneaky. Your plan won’t work as well if they know you’re back.”
“They refuse to admit I ever left.” She frowned.
“It’s late. I’ll see what I can do. Please tell me you didn’t tell Missy you’d owe her a favor.”
“I didn’t.”
He pointed at the nearer couch. “You can crash there. Hungry?”
She dragged her feet on the way around the armrest and flopped down. “No. I’m too worried. I should eat something, but I don’t have any money.”
“I’d make you wash dishes, but you’re too grubby.” He winked. “Sit tight. I’ll need some time to make arrangements… if I can swing anything.”
Maya fired a sour stare at the floor as he walked out. The couch smelled like wet dog, though it didn’t feel damp to the touch. She shifted to the side and tucked her feet under her on the cushions. A few minutes later, he ducked back in with a bowl of ‘chicken’ nuggets infused with cheese. She couldn’t tell what the meat came from―other than it not being chicken―but it tasted okay. Finally, she’d found someone who agreed to help. She settled into the couch and forced herself to eat.
With a spot of warm inside her belly, and a spark of hope in her heart, Maya closed her eyes.
aya awoke curled on her side. She yawned and stretched, taking note of a coarse wool Army blanket that hadn’t been there before. Sleeping on a padded sofa made her sore, or maybe the aches came from all the walking she wasn’t used to. Another long stretch made her feel better. After laying still for a little while more, one arm draped over the side and cheek smushed into the cushion, she slid off to her feet.
Blinking the tiredness from her eyes, she padded across the back room and tried to open the door to the bar, but it only parted a quarter inch before halting with a metallic clonk. She pushed again, soon realizing a padlock on the outside kept it closed. Maya shoved at it few more times with increasing panic.
Son of a bitch!
She spun in place looking for a way out. A small brown door in the back corner hung ajar in front of a lightless room. It bore a sign of a white stick man on a blue field, to which someone had added a black marker arm holding a pistol against the circular head. Windows on the outer wall about the size of cinder blocks might work, but they also sat high, near the ceiling. Maya rushed over and climbed the steel shelving along the outer wall farthest from the desk. The uppermost shelf lined up with the window. Two clear panels flanked a metal bar about as big around as her wrist in the middle. Neither square was big enough to allow her through, even if she could manage to kick out the thick plastic, and judging from the overzealous caulking job, that didn’t seem likely.
Maya climbed down, too angry to cry despite being terrified. What was Diego up to? Would he sell her out to the Authority hoping for a reward like Brian? Her throat tightened. What if Diego wanted to literally sellher, like to that DeeDee woman Missy warned her about?
I hate being me. Why can’t I be a nobody?
A quick scan of the shelving revealed nothing she could use to escape or wield as a weapon. She darted over to the desk and pulled open the top center drawer. Beer openers and a nudie magazine. Papers in the top left. Thirteen cans of Tuna Blast cat food in the top right that looked like they’d been in there longer than she’d been alive.
“Eww.”
She slammed that drawer and went for the bottom right. Amid a couple of screwdrivers, some fuses, and pliers, she found a black-handled stiletto in a leather sheath. Maya picked it up and stared at the glinting edge. Come on. I can do it. He thinks I’m like Vanessa. Just gotta threaten him with it so I can get out of here.