In a place such as this, no one left a name at the desk. Clients paid in unused ration cards, jewelry, stolen goods, rare items or loose anyas. But the hotel would know the occupied rooms, even if they could not maintain records. The desk clerk would know, could point the Enforcers to the rooms. Knowledge clicked into place then, knowledge so certain it nearly stopped Draven’s progress. The clerk had called in the raid. Likely she had targeted him in particular. He cursed himself for his prior rudeness to her. She would relish pointing out Draven’s room, recounting his impersonation of an Enforcer.
Cali’s heat would still linger in the bed when they entered the room, even if her scent was lost among the scent of the other saps. The Enforcers would know someone had occupied the room and departed. Would they guess his escape route? If not, did the clerk know how easily the ceiling sections moved?
With Cali squeezed beneath him, gripping him fiercely with both arms and legs, he could just maneuver into a large pipe. He entered, not daring to imagine what would happen if it failed to lead them outside. At the first turn, he had to stop and lie flat, wriggling along on his belly, dragging Cali under him, only her arms clinging to his body. A ripping sound echoed through the pipe and Cali gasped. “Are you injured?” he whispered into her hair. His whisper echoed through the hollow pipe ahead.
“No,” she said. “The metal’s awfully cold.” He struggled around the bend in the pipe and Cali’s legs circled his hips again. For a brief moment, he became acutely aware of their position, and the image drawn on the ceiling of the room flashed through his mind. He hoped darkness had hidden it from her eyes. A flash of light below their feet diverted his attention and brought him back to the direness of their situation. For a moment, the tunnel returned to darkness. Draven lay motionless, clutching Cali to his chest. A beam of light flashed below their feet again.
Cali flinched against Draven, her legs tightening around him. He heard a scuffling noise in the ceiling somewhere, and the light swept into the tunnel again. Every instinct in him yearned to flee, to scramble with every shred of speed he possessed until he clawed his way to freedom. But he lay still, fighting the urge to move his feet further into the tunnel. If the light caught even a shadow of his foot, all was lost. Yet a movement might bring attention, might make some sound, however minute, to draw attention. He could not risk even a breath. In the cold metal tube, Cali’s breath sounded as loud as a scream. But she lay motionless, gripped tightly around him in the throes of terror.
“Nothing up here,” a voice echoed into the ceiling. Draven started at the sound, then waited, breath bated, hoping his movement had not sent so much as a whisper of a rustle the way he’d come. “He must’ve run down the hall before we got to his room,” the voice said, followed by the soft thud of the ceiling falling back into place. Draven collapsed onto Cali, trembling with relief. He drew in a shaky breath to speak, but did not know how to begin.
“Are they gone?” Cali whispered, her voice no louder than her breath.
“Yes.”
“Wow,” Cali said. “That was scary.”
“You did well, my jaani,” he whispered, and began stroking her hair back from her forehead. He hadn’t had to tell her to remain silent, and that had saved them both. Though he hadn’t had time to instruct her, instincts had steered her to mirror his actions, and she had performed beautifully. He kissed her forehead, her temple, the corner of her eye, then slid his thumb under chin and raised it, arched his neck, and angled his mouth to her throat. While he ate, he cradled the back of her head in one hand, the other stroking the tension from her body until her trembling ceased. Her warm body was yielding under his, its softness conforming to his harder angles, as perfectly fit as lovers.
The moment the thought entered his mind, Draven realized where his other hand had gone, gripping the back of Cali’s thigh. He propelled himself away from her, bracing against the sides of the tunnel to prevent his body from touching hers. Cali froze, her eyes searching the darkness with the blind terror of an animal. She was an animal. A human animal, but still an animal.
“It’s nothing,” Draven said. “We must go. I cannot waste time eating now. Ready?”
“Yeah, okay.”
He lowered himself a bit so she could secure herself to him while he moved quickly through the rest of the tunnel, listening always for the noises that signaled someone had detected their means of escape. But no Enforcers discovered their escape route, and they discovered only cobwebs, animal droppings and thick layers of dust in the remaining length of the pipe. Draven hadn’t dared imagine what they would encounter at the end of the pipe, what they would do if they could not exit. Enforcers would monitor the place for several days after the raid, and he knew Cali could not survive the exposure in the garment she’d worn to bed the morning before.
When they reached the end of the pipe, however, they found it unobstructed by even a screen. The pipe made a sharp turn upwards, and then straightened to disgorge them onto the roof. Draven, who had disengaged himself from Cali to maneuver through the last two turns, reached in and assisted her through the opening. Though he could see her somewhat in the darkness of the tunnel, now, with the full light of evening upon her, he saw how filthy she had become on their flight from the Enforcers. Dust and grime smeared her face and coated her woolen garment. Draven’s body had fared no better. Having removed his clothing before sleep, he had escaped with nothing but his sleep shorts. He checked that the gun he’d thrust into the waistband had survived the journey through the pipe. It had.
He straightened the gun and determined that it would hold fast. Then he knelt before Cali. Without waiting for a command, she climbed onto his back and clung to him while he traversed the rooftops until they reached the backpacks they had abandoned the morning before. Just as Draven had expected, nothing had disturbed them. For a moment, he considered what would happen to him if anyone discovered what he knew, that he had the strength he suspected all Superiors possessed but that no Third should realize. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it arose. If caught, he would be executed for treason or any number of crimes. Perhaps any Third who discovered such powers simply disappeared, accused of a crime and executed before anyone had time to question the charges. Not that anyone would. Questioning an Enforcer’s judgment constituted treason itself, punishable by immediate seizure and execution.
“Where do we go now?” Cali asked when Draven set her down.
“In the tent.”
“I’m all itchy,” Cali said, bending to scratch her legs. “I think something bit me.”
“Perhaps bedbugs.”
“I thought they only lived back home, where it was warm,” she said, continuing to run her fingernails up and down her calves with savage relish. “I haven’t found one since we got to the mountains.”
“Shake out your hair and change your clothing before you enter the tent.”
“But…we’re out in the open. I can’t just take off my clothes on a roof in the middle of a city.”
Draven smiled. “Who do you imagine will see you?” When she failed to answer, he did. “No one. You must shed this ridiculous modesty. It serves no purpose.”
Glimpsing her stung expression, he knew he’d spoken too harshly. She recovered herself quickly, though, and lifted her chin in her typical attitude of defiance. “Fine,” she said. She began to jerk loose the clasps on her jumpsuit. “You’re right. I don’t look any different from anyone else. It’s not like you haven’t seen tons of girls before, and I’m sure when you did, you didn’t feel a thing. You’ve probably never felt a thing in your whole life.”
Draven shook his head and turned away. What did she want him to feel, exactly? Certainly not the hunger that had begun stirring in him lately, a hunger that her sap alone could not satisfy.
Exposure to cold, with nothing covering his body to hold in what little heat he had absorbed, had left Draven stiff and uncoordinated. He had concealed his weakness from Cali when possible, hurrying back to their supplies
before he lost all sensation in his extremities. Now, he had much more difficulty in erecting the tent than he’d had leaping across rooftops. His fingers refused to cooperate, so he had to clamp his hands on the edge of the tent and shake it from its bundle. It expanded to its correct size and shape, and Draven secured it from within by weighing down the edges with their belongings.
Emerging from the tent, he caught sight of Cali’s back, bare and prickled with goose flesh against the few pellets of snow the sky spit at them. She had turned away from the tent to undress, even after his remonstrance, and he was glad of it. Perhaps her modesty did serve some purpose. He fumbled his shorts off, shook them out, and laid them on the roof. As he scrubbed the dirt and grime from his body with snow, he turned away from Cali as well. When he’d finished, he crawled into the tent and slid into his sleep sack. Outside, the sound of Cali’s clothing whipping in the wind as she shook the bugs from them let him know her anger had not yet dissipated. Before she entered the tent, he zipped his mummy bag over his head.
Chapter 40
For the next ten days, they remained on the rooftop. Twice Draven ate at a food-line, which required no identity scan but allowed only one ration per person until the supply had been exhausted. Once, he used the community shower set up in the center with the food line. Though Cali required more frequent cleansing, he could not bring her without signing both their death sentences. No one who owned a sap would eat at a food-line. And she would be irresistible, one food source among a hundred starving men and women. That the outcome would prove disastrous was not worth questioning.
So Cali stayed on the rooftop, and for the most part, Draven stayed with her. Even after settling on the highest rooftop in a block of industrial buildings, many loomed higher in other sectors of the city, so they could not afford to draw attention by building a fire. Draven worked to maintain a layer of snow on the tent for the first few days, making a sort of makeshift igloo around the bottom of it, although he did not fare as well at the top. Still, he hoped the black tent piled with dirty snow did not stand out from the pipes when seen from any distance. He worried more about Cali, who had managed to slip out several times during the day without waking him. She made no mentions of her excursions, and after some consideration, Draven decided to refrain from comment. She had to rid herself of waste somehow. He could not expect her to lie in the dark all day while he slept. And when he slept, all Superiors slept, so he had little cause for concern on that matter.
After the first few days, most of the snow had melted, but they continued to camp on the rooftop. Draven stole a bit more food for Cali and a pair of self-warming gloves for himself, which he used to keep his hands limber between climbs. He was reluctant to leave the semi-hidden spot on the roof, despite the loud industrial noises that remained constant from the first bell to the last. Besides hiding them, the piping offered another advantage. Heat had blackened most of the pipes, and when the snow melted, it revealed a black surface as well. The pipes, the roof, and the black tent all gathered heat, which sometimes lasted far into the evening. If Cali refrained from opening the tent too often, they could stay quite comfortable inside. At night, steam wet the outside of the tent and sent streams of water trickling down it, freezing in ridges around the bottom of the tent by morning. But the steam kept them warm during the night, although it made a slushy wet mess of the snow for the first few days.
Cali did not appreciate the rooftops as he did, since she could not enjoy their benefits, and even Draven knew they could not stay. Eventually, someone would inspect the roof for one reason or another. Already he worried about the solar robots, which he knew little of, including if they could report information to their company or only deposit collected energy. Despite such concerns, each night he left Cali for a few hours, as long as he dared, and searched for a more suitable place to spend the winter. At first, he considered trying to find an empty apartment in which to nest. But neighbors would see him or savor Cali and ask questions, and the building’s owner would soon hear of the illegal nesters. Though Draven had heard of Illegals nesting in apartments, he did not know how they managed it.
He had not yet found a place for them when they were forced to leave the roof. On their tenth day on the factory building, nature stole their source of comfort and reason to stay. They awoke that evening to find the sides of the tent bowing inwards towards their sleeping bodies.
“What happened?” Cali asked, shining the flashlight around the tent, which had reduced in size considerably.
“Snow,” Draven said.
Cali unzipped the door to exit, and a pile of snow collapsed into the tent. A rush of icy air barreled in with it. “I’m so sorry,” Cali said, snatching handfuls of the soft powder and throwing it out, glancing at Draven between handfuls.
“Go relieve yourself,” Draven said, motioning her out so he could shake the snow from the sleep sacks. Perhaps ten centimeters had fallen outside while they slept, whitening the roof, the sky, and the city around them. Flakes continued to fall, not in the serene way they sometimes drifted down, but plummeting in sharp, angry lines.
Cali returned and slipped into the tent, zipping it behind her before thrusting her shivering legs into her sleep sack. She switched on her flashlight. “What are we gonna do?”
“We should leave,” Draven said. “It will only grow colder. I imagine it’s imprudent to stay here longer. Someone could discover us any night.”
“Who would find us up here? You think someone else comes up here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps…a maintenance man, the factory owner, workers who wish to steal a bit of time.”
“I wish snow wasn’t cold,” Cali said. “It’s so pretty.”
Draven chuckled and turned to sit opposite her in the small tent. “Always everything is pretty to you. Wait a few days until it’s grey and trodden in the city. It’s only beautiful in the mountains.”
“So what do we do? Go back to the place with the mistresses?”
“It was raided.”
“But they left, right? The…raiders?”
Draven smiled. “Yes. But they may have it under surveillance.” Because of him. Because he was suspicious, or because he had impersonated an Enforcer. Again he cursed himself for that unwise choice. Perhaps the raid would not have taken place at all had he not angered the desk woman. Although Enforcers had shut down the place, she’d have found another job the next night—a person willing to what she had would likely do anything—and it seemed too much a coincidence that a raid had taken place on the one day Draven stayed. If the desk woman had been angry enough to call a raid on her workplace, she would have included every incriminating detail about Draven, from the fact that he brought his own sap to the treasonous impersonation to the fact that he refused to pay. By now, they had perhaps already concluded that it was Draven and begun hunting him in this new place.
Cali sat scratching old bug bites on her legs for a bit before going on. “Was that room for…renting humans to…mate with?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, sliding her hands into her jumpsuit to scratch at her waist and hips. “Well, I guess thanks for not…wanting to mate with me.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Yes, well. That would be illegal, and dangerous, and wrong.” Kneeling, he had to stoop so as not to bump the sagging tent. He began to gather their gear. Only a small charge remained in his self-heating gloves, but he had nothing better. “Stay here tonight,” he said as he tugged a pair of denim trousers over his linen pair.
“Where are you going?” Cali asked. “Are you going to be gone all night?”
“Perhaps. You will be safe,” he said, although he did not like to leave her. “The snow hides the tent. Do not remove it.”
He zipped his jacket and pulled the hood over his head. Though thin, the material contained plastic foil threads sewn throughout, making it the warmest garment he owned. He pulled on the gloves, now radiating a dull heat. A few hours in the su
n would recharge their heating properties, but the ominous clouds afforded little hope of that opportunity arriving before their heat supply was depleted.
“Wait,” Cali said, reaching to stop him before he could unzip the tent.
“Yes?”
“I just…wondered where you’re going.” Her eyes dropped to her fingers, which had closed over one of his gloved hands.
“I will find a place and for us and return before daylight.”
“Oh,” she said, pinching a bit of the material of his glove between her thumb and finger. She rolled it back and forth as if fascinated by the material. “What is this stuff?” she asked.
He chuckled and removed her hand from his. “Be discreet,” he said. When she gave him a blank look, he added, “When you leave the tent to…for any reason.”
“Oh,” she said, pushing her hands under her thighs so she sat on them. “Okay. Well, be safe. I mean…” She shrugged and began rocking slightly, her eyes on the bulge her knees made inside the sleep sack. “Be careful.”
He leaned towards her as if to kiss her lowered head, but thought better of it and squeezed her shoulder instead. “Always.”
Slipping from the tent, he entered the white world outside and began his slippery, treacherous journey around the outskirts of the city. After his second fall from a rooftop, he stayed at street level, moving quickly but avoiding traffic. By early evening, plows had cleared only the main throughways of new snow. Most people had taken below-ground transportation, and Draven could move in relative obscurity if he avoided the portals disgorging people from the earth.
For a moment, he considered making some attempt to smuggle Cali into a below-ground terminal. Once there, they would be protected from severe weather and extreme cold, and have access to thousands of miles of tunnels, intersecting at thriving terminals where they could board trains, charge electronics, conduct various types of business, even purchase vehicles to be shipped out on one of the trains. These thriving centers of commerce, called Cloves, provided nearly every service the above-ground cities did, from clothing stores, restaurants, and beautification booths to mechanics, sex shops, and dance clubs. Nearly all clubs had descended to below ground by now, to accommodate those who wished to continue dancing once the sun rose. The one thing Cloves didn’t offer was housing.
The Renegades (The Superiors) Page 27