Unstrung

by Kendra C. Highley

  “Those reports are false.”

  “What the Stars?” I say over the murmurs of the reporters in the live audience.

  The police chief goes on. “I’ll turn it over to Mr. Morton for further details.

  Piers straightens his tie before taking his place at the podium.

  “What a complete tool,” Quinn growls.

  “Is ‘tool’ some kind of put-down?”

  “Shast, yes,” he says. “Just wait until you remember what they do to artificials with their special tools—you’ll get it then.”

  Piers centers himself in front of the microphone. “Yesterday evening, our security team ran an anti-terrorist drill at Ms. DeGaul’s lakeside estate. We hired some experts to stage an infiltration to lead the guards on a chase. The experts were given permission, by me, to incapacitate our guards if they made a misstep. Unfortunately, a few of our newer team members misinterpreted the drill after witnessing the use of force and requested assistance from the authorities.”

  Piers glares into the camera, like he knows I’m watching. “There is no need for public concern. Ms. DeGaul wasn’t even in residence at the time. We appreciate the outpouring of support, and we are deeply embarrassed for causing such alarm. It won’t happen again.”

  Reporters shout questions from all corners, but Piers is already walking away from the podium. The woman reporter from the feed channel steps in front of the camera to say, “As you just heard, the alleged attack on Maren DeGaul was merely a drill. More updates on this story as it unfolds. We now return to regular programming.”

  I turn off my data pad in disbelief. “I hit Maren with a metal stick! Why would they just let us go?”

  He gives me a serious look. “What makes you think they are?”

  I open my mouth, then close it. “Maren doesn’t want the public to know, does she?”

  “I don’t think she does,” Quinn says. “If she lets on that the suspects are artificials, people might panic. She’s been very careful not to let the public find out that the artificials aren’t one-hundred percent under her control.” He grimaces. “Besides, she probably also wants the pleasure of hauling us in herself.”

  I think of Piers, of his cold eyes and pinched face, then of Maren as she crumpled to ground after I punched her. The same Maren who rose to power on charisma and sheer will. She’s not the type to forgive a blow to her ego. “I can see that.”

  Quinn stalks into the kitchen and grabs two protein bars. He tosses one to me. “You never told me why you broke into her house.”

  Considering how much he’s risked to help me, I decide to tell him everything…about how I showed up at Turpin’s as a kid, when I started stealing for him, about our clients, how we obtained the chip, and why we need the primer. I even tell him about the stims and how I’m still on Exeprin. My hands tremble at the mention of it. I’m way overdue for my last dose—I’ll have to double up and that’s enough to make me feel sick. But the hardest part is talking about Jole, especially about how he turned his back on me. My heart’s raw…I miss him so much, but I hate him, too. How can I ever reconcile that?

  Once I’m done talking, I pour a glass of water and down it in one gulp. If I can rehydrate myself enough, maybe I’ll be able to stave off the worst of the Exeprin hallucinations I’ll get from a double-shot.

  I’ve finished a second glass before Quinn says anything. He gets up to pace. “I think Turpin’s right. We have to go after the primer.”

  I know I’m crazy, but I’d been under the impression he was sane. It’s a pleasant surprise to discover he’s not. “I’m game, but not if you’re looking to use it to bargain with Maren. I’m in this thing to see her go down in flames. Period.”

  “I’m not looking to bargain with Maren.” Quinn pauses and crosses his arms, totally intense. “I have something else in mind. Something bigger.”

  “Which is?” I ask, completely shocked by the zeal in his eyes. Whatever he’s up to, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.

  “I bet if we decode the plans Turpin has, someone can help us figure out how to release the more advanced artificials from their security protocols,” he says. “There are thousands of high-end models, working as slave labor for Precipice. They’re smart and could easily function outside of Maren’s control.”

  I start to interrupt, but he waves me off. “The interesting thing is that Triarch depends on them to run basic services, like the trains and the fusion plant and water treatment, with only minimal human “management.” If enough of us gain our freedom, we could take out Maren and bring the city to a standstill all at once.”

  “Whoa, hold up there, tiger,” I say. “Even if we topple Maren—which I’m all for, by the way—the government would kill us all rather than bargain.” I think of the girl at the monorail station. Four guys were abusing her and no one but me lifted a finger to stop it. This would be worse; it would be thousands of us against millions of them. “We need to think this through.”

  Quinn stops pacing to glare at me. “You walked into Maren’s house less than a day ago to steal from her and now you want to lecture me about risk-taking?”

  He’s starting to piss me off. “You’re talking about igniting a revolution. This isn’t something we should do on a whim.”

  “Whim?” The look on his face is hard, angry. “I’ve been thinking about this every day for ten years, ever since I realized our lives mean absolutely nothing to Maren or anyone else. If you remembered what it was like, you’d be just as committed.”

  Quinn’s intensity takes my breath away. That dark corner of my brain that remembers him tells me he wasn’t always like this. At one time, he was bright and mischievous—not full of rage. I can’t stop wondering what happened to him. What happened to both of us….

  I force myself to breathe, to stay rational. “Look, I’m just saying we can’t get ahead of ourselves. The primer comes first, but we don’t know where it is—if it was at Maren’s at all, it’s surely been moved by now. Plus, when I go on jobs, I have funding, special equipment, scouting reports, and Jole’s strategic planning at my back. You’re asking me to do this job on my own!”

  Quinn crosses the kitchen in two steps, fists clenched. I stand my ground, thinking he’s about to hit me. And he does, just not with his hands.

  “You aren’t on your own,” he says, his voice like ice. “When you figure that out, let me know.”

  I don’t get another word in before he slams the bedroom door behind him.

  What a tool.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Highs and Lows

  I’m getting the feeling I’m being used. I didn’t sign on to help Quinn start a Bolt-Revolt when I teamed up with him. I’ve only been an artificial for twenty-four hours—I don’t know anything about this culture. Certainly not enough to risk my life on a dangerous job for dubious results. He says they’re ready for freedom, but are they?

  She was scared, and you yelled at her, a voice in my head chides, a voice that sounds suspiciously like the little girl in my dreams. The girl at the monorail station feels just as much as you do, but she’s trapped. You’re the only one who can help her.

  My temples start to ache. Angry, alone, behind on Exeprin—not the best frame of mind to make a big decision. I need to clear my head. As much as I’m dreading a double dose, I’ll have to take my shots if I want to focus.

  I fish my Exeprin case out of my bag and prepare a syringe. The first shot goes down easy. My mind whirls, but something’s off-kilter, like the Cat’s Eyes are out of focus—a sign I have to go ahead with the second dose. I stick myself again, bracing for impact.

  The initial rush is strong, painful. I grip the sofa cushions, riding it out while tears leak from the corners of my eyes. Space and time collide in my brain, warring for dominance. My fingernails rip through the upholstery. In my mind, I’m a goddess…frozen in my own body. Everything becomes possible, even stealing the primer. Here, in this time, it seems easy. I’ll save that girl at the monorail
station, and all the others, too. I’ll remind Quinn what it’s like to be bright and shiny again.

  I’m Lexa, and I can do anything. It’s all at my command, damn it. Maren doesn’t stand a chance in hell.

  Lightning flashes outside the window, followed quickly by a clap of thunder that rattles the window panes. Moments later it starts raining, soft at first, then driving against the window.

  I snatch the card key from the end table and stagger from the apartment. I need to be outside, in the storm, to feel its energy matched with my own. The elevator will take too long, so I turn to the stairs. Flying down the steps awakens my limbs and I burst from the fire-door into the alley, raising my arms to the rain. It soaks my skin, my clothes, my hair. Life in every drop. I cry out for the joy of it.

  Maybe that’s why I don’t hear them until it’s too late. A foot crushes a piece of trash behind me. I whirl around to see two dark shapes lurking in the shadows. One hoists something heavy and brings it crashing down on my skull.

  * * *

  My head aches like I’ve fallen off the side of a building and landed skull first. I groan and try to roll over. The movement makes me gag; I sit up halfway to vomit all over the floor.

  “Oh, disgusting,” a woman says. “Help her, will you?”

  I open my eyes to a squint as a pair of giant hands thrust a trash can under my chin. It takes some time to empty my belly, then I dry heave for a few minutes before my stomach surrenders.

  The owner of the giant hands gives me a washcloth and a glass of water. I wipe my face clean before rinsing out my mouth. Then I sit up all the way, hoping I don’t look as weak and pitiful as I feel. Now that I’m awake, I realize I know my kidnappers—they aren’t run of the mill Night People or even Precipice guards. No, it’s worse…my past has come back to bite me.

  Showing weakness in front of these two isn’t an option if I want to get out of this mess. But what are Candle and her favorite bodyguard doing in this part of town? I thought her presence at Noodle Slide was weird. Seeing her here is downright suspicious.

  I need to play this whole situation very carefully.

  “Can someone dim the lights?” I ask, hoping I sound demanding and arrogant. “I’m coming off Exeprin and my eyes can’t take it.”

  “I’m on it.” Jax, the bodyguard, pats my shoulder with the force of a baby bird, then lumbers across the room. “I’m sorry I hit you on the head, Lexie. Candle said you had to come with us, but wouldn’t want to, so I had to hit you kinda hard.”

  Jax’s voice is a slow rumble, and he gives me a shy smile over his shoulder. His face is squashed, with a nose broken so many times it’s just a blob in his round face, and his black hair sticks up in spikes all over his head. If you didn’t know him, you’d probably believe he’d eat your babies and blow your house down. In truth, he’s a little slow-witted, but every bone in his seven-foot-tall body is gentle and kind. Well, except when he’s working. He worships Candle and does everything she says.

  Hence my throbbing skull.

  His boss pays no attention to our conversation ; she’s fixated on me, a smug smile playing across her mouth.

  “Candle,” I say, “you want to explain why Jax knocked me unconscious in an alley?”

  She laughs—a tinkling sound like breaking crystal. Her wavy magenta hair glows and eyes as yellow-green and feral as an alley cat’s catch mine. “Sorry, Lexa, dear. Just business.”

  Now she’s in the business of kidnapping people off the street? Obviously times have changed, given the crummy apartment, the frayed designer clothes, and the attempted mugging.

  Jax settles down next to me and pulls me close. The embrace is firm. He’s not planning to let me go. I wiggle a bit, and his arm tightens around my shoulders.

  Unnerved, I ask, “Candle, what’s the story here?”

  She waves a hand vaguely. “Oh, we were invited to leave the city a few weeks ago…we had some issues with the current management.”

  “Maren’s trying to put proper criminals outa business,” Jax says.

  Not surprising—it wouldn’t be the first time someone like Candle ran afoul of Maren. “And you’re mugging people to make ends meet?”

  “Not exactly.” Her eyes gleam. “Your bounty’s up to ten thousand. You’ve been a bad girl, stealing from Precipice like that. Tsk tsk.”

  “Look who’s talking,” I snap.

  “Oh, I know—the irony—but maybe if I bring Queenie something she wants, I can clear things up with the Quad and get back to business.”

  “How’d you even find me?” I ask.

  “It wasn’t hard.” She shrugs. “I’ve been having you followed since I saw you at Noodle Slide. We need this. It’s our only chance to get back into city.” Now she smiles. “That boy you’re with? I have no idea where you found him, but when he comes looking for you, I might have to have Jax pick him up, too. He looks like he’d be a delightful time.”

  Rage makes my body flush hot. I try to stand, but Jax pulls my arms behind my back and produces a piece of old gray rope. “I’m sorry, Lexie, but Candle said you stay put.”

  I struggle against him as hard as I can, wrenching my own shoulder in the process. He sighs and holds me tighter, mumbling something that sounds like, “Behave.”

  Pissed, I manage to pop him in the chin with the back of my head. He lets me go, saying, “Oof.”

  Then Candle’s standing over me, pointing a stunner at my chest. “Enough!”

  She has the thing set on eight—the dial is at the edge of yellow, nearly red. While ten’s always fatal, eight’s usually enough to make you feel like you’d been tossed around inside a garbage truck for a week—if you came out of it with your brain intact. Which didn’t always happen.

  I lean away and she smiles. “That’s right, Lexa. Maren didn’t specify the condition you had to be in, just that you were alive. If you want to be able to tie your own shoes in the future, settle down.”

  I relax my arms and let Jax bind my hands behind my back. Neither one of them knows how easy knots are for me; maybe if I let them think they have me trussed up I’ll have time to untie the rope.

  It’s a good plan until Jax grabs my chin tight enough to bruise and Candle pinches my nose shut. Oh Skies, not this…

  Finally I have to gasp for air. When I open my mouth, she drops two stim tablets on my tongue. They dissolve so fast I can’t spit them out.

  In between ragged breaths, I say, “You…bitch!”

  “Such manners,” she says. “I’m doing you a favor, dear. I need you nice and docile for our trip into the city. Surely this is preferable to having Jax knock you out again, right?”

  “Forgive me if I don’t feel like thanking you.” My hands start to shake. The stims are already going to work. Pretty soon I won’t have the dexterity to untie my wrists. “I was clean.”

  “Clean?” Her thin eyebrows rise. “I just thought you’d found another dealer. What a surprise.”

  “That’s me.” Why is everything such a pain in the ass with her? “Full of surprises.”

  She kneels down to peer into my eyes. “It’s hard for me to believe, that’s all. You really took to the stims all those years ago.”

  That stops my struggling cold. “What are you talking about?”

  “I remember thinking it was inhumane to jack up a ten-year-old, but business is business.” She sets the stunner down and reaches out to stroke my cheek gently, almost like the affection is real.

  I manage to work my thumb free of the rope, scraping off a layer of skin in the process. The pain cuts through the drug’s fog and my fingers find ways of picking at the knots. “You’re the reason I got hooked as a kid?” One coil slides away. Two to go. “What’s wrong with you, stimming up a ten-year-old?”

  “The man paid triple and swore it wouldn’t hurt you. I always found that odd.”

  My heart pounds. “What man?”

  “If you don’t remember it’s probably not my place to say.” Candle rocks back on her heels
, giving me a probing look. “You know, ten thousand is a lot for a bounty, even for stealing from Precipice. And why is the bounty contingent on bringing you in alive? You must be very important to Maren. What’s your secret, Lexa?”

  The second coil of rope slides free. I wiggle my hands to loosen the last one. “Maybe it’s because I’m dangerous to her.”

  “You? Dangerous to Maren?”

  She laughs. When Jax joins in, I slam into Candle. Before Jax can react, I knock Candle flat on her back, pinning her shoulders. Her hand scrabbles for the stunner, but I kick it just out of her reach. Rolling fast, I come up with it and I jump to my feet. The room sways from the stims. I feel like I’m moving in slow motion, but my hand’s steady on the stunner as I shoot Candle in the shoulder. Her back arches upward and her eyes roll back in her head.

  Jax stops laughing and lunges my direction. He swings a giant fist at my jaw, but I duck the blow and shoot him, too. He falls with a heavy thud at my feet.

  I drop the stunner on the floor. Jax twitches and jerks from the electricity, but Candle lies still. I wonder briefly if I killed her, but the thought won’t stick. My head feels full of sharks, each one chomping on the chum in my brain. I press my hands against my skull. What…what…

  What am I doing here?

  I can’t remember. I just know I have to leave.

  I stagger down the stairs of the apartment building, bumping into a grizzled old man who makes me a rude offer. He grins at me, showing me his three teeth and shiny pink gums, which morph into shark jaws. Shaking, I shove past him and stumble out the door onto the street. The buildings look familiar, but…where am I? It’s dark, and nothing looks right. I don’t recognize a single landmark. I start to breathe fast. Where am I? Oh, Stars, someone, tell me where I am!

  Shadows move along the walls, the sidewalks. They’re chasing me. I turn in a circle. Everything is closing in, ready to kill.

  Then I suddenly don’t care.