by K W Quinn
Cass smiled and tugged the blankets into place. “So you can put your freezing-cold ass on me?” Cass arched his eyebrows and looked down his nose.
“Yes. That’s what you get for wearing pants.” Andy stuck out his tongue. “I can’t believe Juji’s yoga pants are gone. Those things were amazing.”
“Nothing about this conversation is appropriate right now. You’re talking about getting into Juji’s pants and snuggling up to me?” Cass shook his head and squirmed his way under the covers.
“Who cares about appropriate? I’m cold.”
“Shut up and get over here,” Cass griped. “‘The Fire is cold,’ he says. ‘Warm me up,’ he says. So bossy.”
Andy climbed into the back and curled into a ball. Cass lay down next to him, pressing his side to Andy’s back. Andy kept his arms and legs to himself, but his shoulders relaxed. Cass smiled. It was a compromise, and he would take it.
Lift
With a belly half full of half a scone and a mini muffin, Andy meandered along the sunny sidewalk, lifting his face to the sun. He’d never take its presence for granted again. He tried putting his hands in his pockets, but they were gritty with sand from last night.
A few steps ahead, Cass had his nose pressed to the glass of a music shop.
“I always wanted to play in a band. Like a cool jazz combo.” Cass sighed.
“But you don’t play any instruments.”
“I know, but wouldn’t I look cool playing a saxophone?”
“Come on, we’re supposed to be getting ideas or jobs,” Andy said, pulling on Cass’s shirt.
“My pants are still a little damp. They chafe,” Cass whined, wiggling awkwardly.
“Blow them dry.”
“I’m tired,” Cass whined.
“Then keep moving. The breeze and sunshine will help dry you out.”
“Spoken like a true Helio.”
“The sun loves me,” Andy said, twirling around in a small circle with his arms out, palms up. He could feel the Light in his heartbeat, in his breath. There wasn’t much use for it with the sun doing all the work, but it helped keep him charged. He preened in the Light.
He’d always liked the way the sun darkened his skin, turning it a deep mahogany brown. Cass got toasty and golden, but Andy’s normally boring brown skin took on a beautiful glow in the sun. It was one of the few times he felt special.
What they needed, though, was flaming money. Back home, in an Earth town full of Pyros, a Fire who had to work twice as hard to make a flame didn’t have much to offer. The weak Fire. And who would hire an Air in a little town like this? The bigger corporations that promoted inclusivity had too much red tape to risk while on the run. And the little family-owned shops had too much prejudice and fear. Who would be willing to put themselves on the wrong side of the Earth just to help out a couple of kids?
They spent the morning poking around the town and avoiding thinking about their stomachs.
“Nice vacation town,” Cass said, nodding at the people taking pictures everywhere.
“I might enjoy it more if we weren’t broke and being chased.”
“Dude, where is your sense of adventure?”
Andy rolled his eyes. “I must have forgotten to pack it. Maybe it’s in a hamper at home.”
“You never put anything in a hamper. Balled up at the foot of your bed is more like it.”
“Rude.”
“But not wrong.”
“No, not wrong.” Andy’s smile hardened and cracked as he thought of home. He could never go back. Was his mom OK? Would she be punished for his escape? Or death? Without Andy there to distract his dad, things would only get worse for her.
Strolling along the sidewalk, Andy watched a couple wearing flip-flops and sun visors with palm trees, clearly marking them as tourists. The man had an Earth First shirt on. Andy tilted his face away, not wanting to be noticed by someone like that, and his face was sure to give away just what he thought about Earth First.
He almost missed the moment when Cass stumbled forward into the tourists, mumbling apologies and complimenting their vacation wear.
Cass straightened up and waved goodbye to them, then pulled Andy by the arm into the next shop, a bakery full of cutely decorated cookies and cakes.
“Pick a treat, Andy,” Cass said with a wide grin.
“Have you come completely unrooted? We can’t waste what little money we have on cake.”
“Courtesy of the visiting rich, we can have our cake and eat it too.” Cass pulled a sequined wallet from his pocket. Not his wallet.
Andy felt his face flush. This was flaming insane. This was flaming illegal. This was just like flaming Cass.
“Two lemon puffs, please, and a slice of strawberry cake. Andy?” Cass beamed at him. Andy just shook his head. His stomach sloshed as he tried to remember how innocent people behaved.
Back on the street, while Cass stuffed his face and licked his fingers, Andy walked them back to the van. Out of earshot of the probably suspicious public, Andy slapped Cass on the back of his empty Air head.
“You are gonna get us killed,” he hissed.
“Ow. Relax. It was just a little lift. I left the wallet in the bakery with everything in it except for some cash. I didn’t even take all of it. Those folks were coming out of the bakery. Either they’ll retrace their steps and find it or they won’t, but either way, no evidence points to us.”
“Unless the lady in the bakery remembers some gangly kid with a sparkly wallet.”
“You worry too much. No one thinks that hard about customers. Dude, as an experienced barista, I can tell you that for a fact.”
Andy swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t flaming do it again. You want to get arrested?”
“No, but I do want to eat.”
“It’s been one day, Cass. We’re not starving. You haven’t even had time to shit out breakfast.”
“I’m trying to think ahead.”
“You’re not thinking at all. Don’t do it again. We can use whatever you took today, but we can’t risk getting caught.”
Cass huffed. “They won’t miss it. It was only a little.”
“That won’t matter one flaming bit if someone calls the cops.” Andy tried to bore a hole into Cass’s reckless skull. Cass rolled his eyes but nodded. “Good. Now hand me a lemon puff.”
Thirsty but anxious, Andy made Cass drive for half an hour before he would consent to stop for drinks. Even untraceable cash was too risky. They were being hunted. They were broke, but they couldn’t resort to stealing. Yet.
Just a few miles from the line of beaches, the illusion of coastal bliss was shattered. Dusty towns with boarded-up shops lurked in the glaring sun.
“How can a Water town be so dusty?” Andy coughed.
“Because Earth know how to punish everyone. They curse the ground so it won’t hold water. Like sand.”
“Oh yeah, wise and knowledgeable Calisto? Where did you learn that?”
“I paid attention in school. You should try it sometime.”
“When I get ashen rich and need a fancy degree, I’ll think about it. But also, stuff grows in sand. Like, beaches still have plants.” These empty hills rolled out to meet the mountains. It was unrelentingly beige.
“Dude, it was a metaphor. I was trying to have some of that . . . what’s the fancy word for serious talk?”
“Gravitas?”
“Oh, you did pay attention in school.” Cass’s smile tried to push away the oppressive poverty around them. They stopped at a one-pump fuel station, and the air was thick with grit. Andy sneezed twice but still felt like he was being scoured from the inside out.
He grew up in the paycheck-to-paycheck part of town. He thought he knew what it was to be poor and scared, but he’d never actually gone hungry. They’d had their vegetable garden, and they’d scraped by.
The clerk behind the counter was just a tired smile stretched over bones. Her eyes were glassy, and clutching his bott
le of water, Andy felt shame and anger pushing him to get back in the van as soon as possible.
Standing next to the van, he felt dirt in his teeth and spat. Stealing wasn’t a good solution, but if it came to that, at least Cass had some skill. Andy wouldn’t let him pickpocket from people who were already living with the same starvation they might be facing.
“Get your flaming hands off me,” a woman spat.
Andy went stiff as a board as he watched two men in unfamiliar uniforms push her out the door and into the dust. She scrambled to her feet and wiped a thin line of blood across her cheek.
“You can’t lock us all up. We’re everywhere. The Earth will fall.”
The uniforms moved with practiced ease, handling the woman without emotion. She kept screaming. Her voice rattled Andy’s teeth.
“Earth will fall,” she chanted, eyes wide. Andy couldn’t look at her, as though her guilt were contagious.
Inside the van, Cass gripped the steering wheel tightly and looked at Andy with all the questions on his face. Andy shook his head as little as he could get away with. These weren’t regular cops, and this wasn’t a regular arrest.
His dad had talked about stuff like this, drunken boasting that Andy had written off, but now he was seeing it. Dissidents, his dad called them. Only once she was crammed in the back of the bland police sedan did Andy dare climb in the van.
“What was that?” Cass asked, craning his neck to watch the men slip into the front of the car and drive away.
“Exactly what we’re trying to avoid,” Andy answered. “Now drive.”
“Where?”
“Wherever those guys aren’t.”
Rebels
The ice cream shop was clean and bright, but the woman behind the counter was scowling. Reyah did her best not to scowl back, but her patience was pressed thin.
“I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m just trying to find my friends.”
“Well, excuse me for saying, but it’s a rubbish story, and I’d appreciate it if you would leave my shop immediately. We’re good folk here, and we don’t need any trouble from your kind.”
Her kind. Blue kind? Her street clothes garnered no respect here. Her uniform might. The urge to flash her credentials and watch the smugness melt away from this woman’s face writhed in her belly.
In just a handful of words, she could have this whole town falling all over itself to help her, but she didn’t want to call attention to her less-than-stellar performance.
Then again, some might see her as just a hired hand of the mighty Conglomerate. Well, if she was just another working girl, she’d better get on with her job.
Reyah pressed her lips into a thin smile and gave the woman a curt bow. Nothing like the fragile superiority of good Earth people. The Conglomerate could be a powerful force of good in the world, but some people just didn’t know how to believe in the good of the Earth without assuming the bad in everyone else.
The street was no place to try to check the trail, so she headed back to her car. She could feel the target’s soul echoing in her chest, a counterpoint to her own heartbeat, ever present and tempting. She was going to give in one more time. Hopefully, the last time. Just to get a glimpse of where he’d gone, and then she would chase him down.
“Madam Dragon.”
Reyah’s head snapped up. “Master Shark,” she answered reflexively.
The man in front of her was out of uniform, but if she hadn’t been stuck in her own head, she would have recognized him immediately. Not because she knew him, but shared training made him familiar.
“Are you on a collection?” he asked, fist pressed to his thigh, palm forward. The town was under observation. It seemed like the model Earth town, settled in a fertile Ag valley, but lawlessness could hide anywhere.
“Not in this town.” She tucked her thumb into her fist and rubbed her thigh in a triangle. What was the nature of this observation?
“It’s a lovely town. You should stop by the bakery if you have time.” He tapped two fingers against his wrist. Rebels? Insurgents? It wasn’t a signal Reyah was used to seeing.
She extended both index fingers and rested her hands at her sides. “Do they have good bagels? I miss them when I’m out of the city.”
He shook his head and put one hand in his pocket. He hadn’t seen the target or Bonded. He had a whole cell undercover with him, but he was the visible decoy.
“No such luck, but the peach turnovers are worth trying.”
Turnovers. That definitely meant rebellion. Someone here wanted the Conglomerate out.
“I’ve never had a turnover, but it sounds amazing.” No signals from her. She didn’t know what to say.
“You have got to try some. I’ve had them all over the country. I guess I’m sort of a connoisseur.”
“Really?” Reyah didn’t try to hide her surprise. Why was a young Shark chasing a rebellion across Conglomerate territory? Why was there suddenly a need for it? When and how had this rebellion sprung up without the Dragons knowing about it? Did the Dragons know about it but somehow she’d been excluded?
“My family loves them, too, so I guess I’m just like them. Every place makes a turnover a little differently. Some flaky, some cakey. The ones here are seriously top-notch, though.” His smile was a thin veneer, eagerness for violence bubbling through. The Sharks were always too quick to act, too slow to think.
“Thanks for the recommendation. I’m just passing through, so I’m not sure I’ll have time to try them.” She had no information to share and couldn’t lend assistance.
“I won’t keep you,” he said. He bowed his head and pressed both hands to his knees. High respect. He must be a very young Shark to give such deference to an equally young Dragon. Then again, a decade of service was usually cause for respect. But a decade to a dragonkin just didn’t feel significant.
Fresh out of the academy, he might still bow to all Dragons, but after as many jobs as he’d insinuated? Dragons were the elite, but even so, he’d learn that people were more than their titles. He might even grow to be more than his. She wasn’t really living up to hers.
Marv pushed his sunglasses up with the back of his hand. Was it always this muggy and oppressive in the suburbs? He wouldn’t give in to the temptation to tug on his collar or tie. Appearances meant more out here than in the Capital.
Collections were his least favorite assignment, and his father knew it, handing them out whenever he felt Marv was getting out of line. He said seeing the common people would put Marv in his place.
Whether they were violent or groveling, taking people to be Bonded was never pleasant. Except for today. This he was going to enjoy.
He’d only been to Cass’s house a handful of times, but Andy’s house next door had always been off-limits.
Not today. Today he would use every last inch of his authority for personal satisfaction. Today he would take bitter comfort in Collecting the pile of ash that had sold Andy.
Two thick-necked men in suits climbed the steps to Andy’s house and pounded on the door. Marv hated Enforcers almost as much as he hated collections, but no one would let him do these jobs alone. No Sharks for this collection, not this close to the Capital. Not for a cop.
A slender woman, beautiful despite her meekness, opened the door. She didn’t ask the usual litany of questions. She didn’t beg or cry. She didn’t run.
Her hand rested on the doorknob for a long moment, waiting for Marv as he stepped up.
“Is he home?” Marv asked. No need for preamble here. He was impressed with himself for keeping the profanities in his head.
She pressed her lips together and looked over her shoulder. It was all the answer the Enforcers needed. They shouldered their way inside the house, and Marv watched Andy’s mother try to shrink into the doorframe.
He didn’t often talk to the families of those he was Collecting. It didn’t end well, as he’d learned through many awkward and painful attempts. But this wasn’t some stranger. This was Andy�
�s mom. They’d never met, but she wasn’t someone he could forget.
“Do you have somewhere you can go?” he asked. She nodded, eyes fixed on the splintering wood of the porch.
Inside the house, thumps and shouts began to rise. She didn’t look. She didn’t flinch. She was calm as stone.
“I can buy the property if you like. Give you a bit of a head start. I dabble in real estate on the side.” His charming smile was wasted since she wasn’t looking anyway. He was one of the last people to see her son alive. He wanted to hug her, but business was all he had.
“There’s no flaming way it’s my fault that you lost him,” Mr. Ravi yelled. He was pulled out onto the porch, spit on his chin and stains on his shirt.
“Debts must be paid,” Marv said, keeping his hands in fists at his side.
“I paid my flaming debts,” Ravi said, pulling his elbows free from the grasp of the Enforcers. “I squared it all up nice and legal. It’s you that burnt it all up.”
Marv examined Ravi’s bloodshot eyes and wrinkled clothes.
“Your accounts are in the red. You have no other collateral.”
It was the standard recitation for a collection, but Marv delivered each word like a punch. This soggy excuse for an officer of the law would pay with every ounce of sweat and blood that Marv could wring out of him.
“Take the puffer then,” Ravi spat, leaning toward his wife. “She’s ugly and used up, but some lonely pile of ash might take pity. If you can find someone that desperate.”
The Enforcers had encased his hands in rock. Not the usual igneous, not for a Fire, but a smooth, brown granite. Even during collections, Rocks had their ways of showing respect. Ravi might be just a street cop, but they still considered him one of their own, even in disgrace.
“Your wife is not a part of this. We took a family member to pay your debt, and he ran. We won’t accept another substitute.” Marv wouldn’t let this incompetent flaming weasel punish anyone else.
“No one would miss her.”
“If she’s worthless, then she can’t be used to cancel your debts.” Marv congratulated himself on his restraint. His tongue itched with the desire to curse and demean, but Ravi was doing enough cursing for the both of them. Better to keep his words clean and rise above.