He smacked a fist into his palm. “I have an idea.”
Simoni raised an eyebrow.
“I like the look on your face,” Clyde said.
Trenton nodded slowly. He thought it could work. “The dragons and guards would spot anything moving across the water. But they wouldn’t see a ship that moved under the water.”
The next morning, Trenton and Kallista reported to their new jobs at the address provided on their letters to find a group of twenty or so kids strapping on tool belts and headlamps like the kind Trenton’s father had used in the mines. None of the kids looked any older than fifteen.
When Leo had promised them better jobs, Trenton assumed it would be an administrative position like what Simoni had or designing things like what Clyde did, but this was even better. It felt good to smell grease and strap on a tool belt.
Trenton looked around and recognized a familiar redheaded kid. “Hey, JoeBob,” Trenton said. “And Hallie,” he added, noticing the girl behind him.
Both kids exchanged an uncomfortable glance, and then looked away.
“Tool belts and work gloves are in the cubbies,” Hallie said.
Kallista looked at Trenton, her eyebrows drawn down in a question. “I’m sorry I lied to you guys. And if you see Alex—”
“You must have us confused with someone else,” JoeBob said before tossing his belt over his shoulder and walking away.
Hallie looked embarrassed as she added with a pointed look, “We’ve never seen you before.”
Trenton sighed. “I guess we deserve that.” He looked around. “Are all the mechanics in the city children?”
“Only in the Runt Patrol,” a small boy with spiky blond hair answered instead of Hallie. “This is the land of the little people.”
Hallie wrinkled her nose. “What he means is that the job we do requires people who are small enough to squeeze into tight spaces.” She eyed Trenton. “You’re definitely on the tall side, but at least you’re skinny.”
Were all the kids here members of the Runt Patrol? No wonder Alex knew all about the city. With so many mechanics sticking their noses into the machinery, they had to be aware of everything that happened. He had to find a way to get them back on his side.
“I haven’t seen so many kids in one place since we got here,” Trenton said.
A tall figure standing in the corner shook back his dark bangs and said, “People see what they’re looking for.”
Trenton blinked in surprise. Alex had been there all along, listening and watching silently. Trenton started toward him, but Alex shook his head.
“You’re working with Michael,” he told Trenton. “Grab your tools and get out there.”
The kids weren’t joking about tight spaces. The first job Trenton was assigned to was greasing one of the moving walkways. The job required him to lie on his back, slide through an access hatch, and scoot along a metal surface while a moving chain rumbled by six inches from his nose.
“The lube joints are every three feet,” Michael said, scooting along the other side of the walkway. “Don’t miss any or we’ll have to do it all over again tomorrow. And don’t let the chain touch your nose. The other kids’ll make fun of your scabbed face for weeks.” He sniffed and spat down the opening beneath them. “Not that it’s ever happened to me.”
“Of course not,” Trenton said with a grin, hoping an attempt at humor would help him get back on the Runt Patrol’s good side.
They worked in silence for a while. Trenton fell into an easy rhythm. Scoot, scoot, scoot, squirt grease. Scoot, scoot, scoot, squirt. Even though it was tight and stuffy, Trenton found he enjoyed the work. He’d missed being around the sound of heavy machinery, the smell of oil, and the humidity the steam engines inevitably produced.
More than once, Trenton considered mentioning the mechanical dragons, but Alex and the others had made it clear they weren’t ready to talk. Maybe if he did his job, they’d open up to him.
“You’re not too bad at this,” Michael said. “Takes most newbies a couple of weeks before they can keep up. Assuming they stick it out that long. Most of ’em can’t take the tight spaces.”
“This is nothing when you’ve nearly been crushed in a mineshaft coal feeder,” Trenton said. “Have you been working as a mechanic for long?”
“Almost two years. Pretty soon I’ll be too big, and they’ll reassign me. Started out working in the fields. This beats that job by a mile.”
“Tell me about it,” Trenton said. “I’m glad I left the fields behind.”
Something banged against the top of the walkway, and a cloud of grit fell into Trenton’s eyes.
“Need to get yourself a pair of goggles,” Michael said.
Trenton looked over to see that Michael was wearing a leather strap around his head with a pair of glass lenses on the front. Trenton’s flight goggles had been taken away with the rest of his possessions, but Michael’s rig was sturdier, designed for work, with different lenses that could be swung in and out for greater magnification.
“Where did you get those?” Trenton asked, trying to blow the grit off his face. “I didn’t see any goggles with the gloves and tools.”
“None of the adults listen when we tell them what we need,” Michael said. “So we make them ourselves. Alex might be able to hook you up if you get back on his good side.”
Trenton shifted around to pull out a rock that had slipped down the back of his shirt. “Speaking of Alex, what would it take to get back on his good side? I’ve been considering a project that might be of interest to someone looking to . . . make a change.”
“You and the girl?”
Trenton considered the question for a moment. Kallista would be a huge help building the submarine, but after what she’d said at the house the day before, he didn’t know if he could trust her. It was a terrible feeling.
“Just me,” Trenton said at last. “Kallista is trying to figure some things out for herself.”
Michael grunted. He shot grease into a joint and looked at Trenton out of the corner of his eyes. “Stick around long enough and maybe you’ll get a chance to prove you can be trusted.”
Trenton glanced over his head. Only a few more joints to go before they could climb out the other side. “What do you want to do when you stop working with the Runt Patrol?”
Michael snorted. “Whatever it is, it won’t be here.”
“You’re still planning on leaving?”
Michael gave him a silent look and continued working. After a moment, he said, “Maybe.”
Worried he was pushing his luck but needing the information, Trenton said, “It seems like you’ve figured out a way to get around the Ninki Nankas, so what’s holding you back?”
“It’s not that easy,” Michael said. “There are ways of going anywhere you want without the Ninki Nankas stopping you. But that only works inside the city. Any of the dragons—and I mean any—see you trying to leave . . . might as well throw yourself off the cliff into the sea.”
Trenton had more questions, but once they were out from under the walkway, Michael stopped talking.
At lunch, Trenton looked for Kallista but learned she was working with a crew on the other side of the city. Michael was hanging out with another group of boys and was pointedly ignoring Trenton.
Instead, Trenton took his food and approached Hallie and JoeBob. They didn’t look happy to see him, but they made room for him at their table.
“How did you like the walkways?” JoeBob asked with a sneer.
What was that expression for? Had he done something to offend the boy? “It was fine,” Trenton said. “Nice to get to work with my hands again on some heavy machinery.”
JoeBob muttered under his breath and handed Hallie his fruit tart.
Hallie smiled in triumph. “JoeBob heard you and your friends live up in the Seven Hills
in one of those big fancy houses. He bet me you wouldn’t last the morning.”
“How do you know where I live?” Trenton asked, taking a bite of his fish salad.
JoeBob shook his mop of red hair out of his face. “We know everything that goes on in this city. Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”
Hallie’s fruit tart was halfway to her mouth when she stopped. “You mean you do live in the Seven Hills?”
“I do now. Is that bad?”
Hallie and JoeBob looked at each other. JoeBob shrugged. “It’s just that most of the people who live up there work in fancy jobs. Not tightening chains and replacing bearings.”
“Guess I must be lucky.” Trenton glanced at the two of them, hoping he might be able to get them to elaborate on what Michael had told him. “I was talking to someone earlier who said he wanted to leave the city.”
“Michael,” Hallie said at once. “He has a big mouth.”
JoeBob shook his head, a clump of hair falling over his right eye. “You must have heard him wrong. There’s no way out.”
“What if I knew of a way?” Trenton said. “Do you think Alex would be willing to talk to me?”
“Alex speaks for himself,” JoeBob said. He and Hallie gathered up their lunches and left without giving Trenton a second look.
That afternoon, Trenton joined five other kids in the back of a large quad headed for the bridge. It was the first time Trenton had been to the structure, and he was anxious to get a closer look at how it worked.
Once they reached it, the workers divided into two groups of three. Trenton was grouped with a pair of brothers—Jack and Cameron. The other three—a joke-cracking boy named Graysen, a small but determined girl named Lizzy, and a curly-haired boy named Asher—were put in the second group.
It was a good thing Trenton wasn’t afraid of heights because their job was to inspect the huge cables that supported the bridge. The first person on the team searched for loose metal strands in the cables and noted them in a small book. The second person checked the bolts of the huge metal clamps, and the third person greased the fittings.
As they neared the top of one of the highest girders, wind slapped at Trenton’s face, and the cables thrummed with a deep moaning sound. The view was great, though. He looked toward Alcatraz and saw a boat anchored at the south end of the island. It was probably just wishful thinking, but for a moment, he could have sworn he saw a flash of gold-colored metal.
“Hear that’s where you and your friends came from,” Cameron said, studying Trenton with curious eyes that looked too big for his face.
“How did you know that?” Trenton asked.
Jack tucked his wrench in his belt. “Is it true you were hunting dragons?”
Trenton wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to gain the Runt Patrol’s trust, but it seemed like most people in the city liked the dragons, or at least put up with them. It was like the Order of the Beast all over again.
The two brothers watched Trenton intently.
“What did you hear?” Trenton asked, hedging his answer.
“I heard you killed a lot of them,” Jack said. His little brother nodded, eyes still wide. They didn’t seem angry, only curious.
“Yeah,” Trenton said, hoping it wouldn’t turn the brothers against him. “We did.”
They worked the rest of the day in silence. Trenton didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one.
When he returned to the shop, he found Kallista putting away her tools. “How was your day?” he asked.
“Long,” she said, pulling off her gloves. “It’s nice to be working with machines again, though.”
Trenton looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Some of the kids were surprised that we were assigned here since we live up on the hill.”
“If you don’t like it, you can probably ask to be transferred,” she said with a shrug.
He leaned closer. “It’s just that Angus and Simoni and Plucky got, you know, white-shirt jobs. Clyde even has one of those little sashes now. Why do you think your father sent us here?”
Kallista’s face tightened. “We don’t know that my father sent us here. And if he did, it was probably because he knew we liked to work with machines.” With that, she turned and marched out of the building.
Trenton was one of the last kids to put away his tools. As he was tucking his hard hat and gloves into a bin, he saw Alex step through the door. “Everything okay with your friend?”
Trenton unbuckled his tool belt and put it away. “She’s just stressed out about some things.”
Alex flipped back his dark bangs. “Heard her father’s in tight with the dragons.”
Trenton narrowed his eyes. Where were these kids getting their information? “What do you know about Kallista’s father?”
“Not much,” Alex admitted. “Only that he’s been spending a lot of time around the white tower. Guess he’s been keeping secrets.” He tilted his head and gave Trenton a sardonic smile. “The first rule of living with dragons is that no one gets something for nothing. You start living in fancy houses and people start to wonder if you and your friends made a deal with those scaled devils.”
“Hardly,” Trenton said. “In case you didn’t hear, we were captured by them. They nearly killed us. Listen,” he whispered, moving closer, “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened at the warehouse, and I don’t blame you. What Kallista did—no matter her reasons—was a complete betrayal. But I think I know where they took our dragons.”
“Do you?” Alex arched an eyebrow, and Trenton realized Alex had probably known where they were before he did.
“I’ve got an idea of how to get them back,” Trenton said. “But first I need to find a place to build something—something pretty big. Do you have any idea where I could get access to a private building and machining tools?”
Alex laughed. “I know everything about this town.”
Outside, the streets were filled with people getting off work. Hundreds of dragons flew back and forth over the city, snapping at humans who weren’t moving fast enough or didn’t appear to be doing their jobs. Trenton couldn’t help flinching every time one of their shadows dropped over him. But Alex and the rest of the Runt Patrol treated the city like a giant playground, ducking into pipes, scrambling over walls, and generally staying out of sight.
Alex pulled him into a doorway as a dark-green shape soared slowly overhead, its golden eyes studying the people moving below it like bugs. Once the dragon was past, Alex pushed under a loose piece of fence and climbed beneath a row of metal trailers. Now and then, Trenton caught sight of other small figures ducking and dodging their way through the city.
There could have been as many as ten kids or as few as five. He thought he recognized most of them, but with the way they moved from one shadow to the next, it was hard to tell for sure.
“What happens if a dragon catches you somewhere you shouldn’t be?” Trenton asked.
“First offense is usually three days with no food and only a cup of water a day. Second offense can be anything from a beating to losing a hand or a foot. The dragons themselves don’t do that, of course. They’ve got plenty of sadistic guards waiting to take orders.”
Trenton shuddered, remembering how Angus had protected Clyde from Garvin. “What happens after that?”
Alex led him to a partially covered canal where they splashed through a few inches of mossy green water. “Ever notice how well fed the Ninki Nankas look?”
Trenton’s throat went dry. “They wouldn’t.”
“They would, and they do,” Alex said. “The guards even take bets on how long it takes a Ninki Nanka to finish eating its victim. I’ve seen it happen.”
It was all Trenton could do to keep from throwing up. “Why do they do it? Why do so many people willingly serve the dragons? If they all revolted at o
nce, refused to feed the creatures or . . . ?”
Alex gave his quirky grin.
“Okay, yeah, I mean I know the dragons would kill anyone who refused to obey. But most of the people in this city seem happy to be here. Like it’s a privilege.”
“A lot of people think it is,” Alex said. “I don’t understand it myself. It’s like they get used to it until they can’t imagine any other way.”
Trenton walked through the water behind him, feet soaking wet. “But not the Runt Patrol?”
Alex turned to look at him, his face more pale than normal. “Most of the kids want to fight. Not all of them, but most. Only something happens to you when you reach a certain age. It’s like the fight gets sucked out of you little by little until you completely give in. One day you’re talking about doing whatever it takes to get away, and the next, the only thing you care about is serving the dragons. I’ve seen it happen to friends of mine.” He wiped a shaking hand across his face. “And I can feel it happening to me. Some mornings, lately, I go outside and see the dragons coming out of their towers. I see people marching to their jobs, laughing and smiling, and I think, ‘It wouldn’t be all bad.’ That’s why I have to get out—soon—before it’s too late.”
“That’s your secret,” Trenton said. “You and the others. Why you want to escape the city.”
Alex set his jaw. “One of them. Prove to us that we can trust you and maybe we’ll show you more.”
They peeked out from under the cover of the canal. Less than twenty feet away, a Ninki Nanka waddled down the street.
“Stay here,” Alex said, pressing Trenton back with one arm. He lifted his fingers to his mouth, and a sharp whistle split the air. Instantly, five kids—Graysen, Lizzy, Asher, Hallie, and JoeBob—darted out of their hiding places and into the street.
“Tell them to stop,” Trenton said. “That thing will rip them to pieces.”
Alex held a finger to his lips. “Watch.”
The Ninki Nanka hissed at the sudden appearance of the kids, opening its mouth to reveal sharp fangs. It flicked its tongue, tasting the scents in the air, but instead of charging, the beast shook its head, sneezed, and then flicked its tongue one more time before wandering away.
Embers of Destruction Page 17