Deviants (The Dust Chronicles)

by Maureen McGowan

  I rub my ring to calm down and think. Burn’s motivation can’t be blackmail. I’ve got nothing of value but secrets, and the way I see it, where secrets are concerned, Burn and I are at a stalemate. No chance that guy is a Normal.

  I’ll call his bluff. I’ll tell him I know he’s a Deviant; I’ll tell him that I’ve got connections in Management—I’ll make him see I’m a threat.

  “Be careful. Keep safe.” Cal bends to kiss me, but I turn my cheek to dodge his lips.

  “I will, and thank you—for tonight, for the cucumber, especially. It was delicious.”

  He beams. “I thought you’d like it.” He leans his shoulder into the wall. “I’ll move up in the Jecs, and if I get through the Entrance Trials for Compliance Officer Training, we’ll have plenty of fresh vegetables in our future.”

  “Great.” My face hurts from the strain of smiling, and I can’t figure out whether the nerves churning my stomach and skittering up my spine are from his talking marriage so soon, or my knowing it can never happen.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NERVES ON EDGE, I glance down the alley where I first saw Burn and assure myself that the danger of this meeting is lower than the danger of his following me around. I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the lights glaring from the far end, where the alley meets the Hub. No sign of movement.

  I’m fifteen minutes late and he’s nowhere to be seen. Worse, it’s past curfew for employees still in GT, and if I get caught, I’ll risk arrest for the second time tonight.

  “You came.”

  I spin at the deep sound of Burn’s voice, and the air rushes out of my lungs. I back up a few steps to increase the distance between us. How did he come up behind me without my hearing? I hate this guy for making me so uneasy, for proving I’m not as aware of my surroundings as I think.

  Resentment builds inside me, igniting my curse. Instead of trying to extinguish the sparks behind my eyes, I look directly at Burn’s and let my resentment build to anger. Focusing my thoughts on his stomach, I twist.

  Pain flashes on his face.

  Shocked, I look down, staring at the small hole above the big toe of my left shoe. Light-headedness threatens, but I win.

  I did it. I hurt him. This confirms what I’ve suspected: I can affect more than rats’ organs. My curse affects humans.

  And Burn is a very large human.

  He raises his dark, heavy eyebrows. “You’re powerful. Hector was right.”

  I reel, my father’s name a punch to my heart. I haven’t heard or thought about my father’s name for years, and I might have forgotten what it was until now. It was merely the name my mother called my father. I never thought of him as Hector, just Dad—then murderer.

  My mother’s name, Anna, flashes to mind and my thumb flies to her ring. I want to be like her, not my father, but to survive I need a little of both.

  Burn steps closer, and as if sensing I might run, he grabs my arm. Smart guy.

  “I am powerful,” I tell him. “If you know what’s good for you, never come near me again.”

  He pulls me forward. “I’m powerful, too, little girl.”

  His hand is tight, really tight, on my arm—so tight I might bruise—and I struggle against him and raise my chin higher to look into his eyes. “I am not a little girl. I’ve been single-handedly taking care of my brother for three years.”

  His grip on my arm loosens but he doesn’t release me. “I know.”

  I swallow the fear that’s pressing into my indignation. “Leave me alone.” I look into his eyes, but this time he’s smart enough to release me. I look away.

  He takes a step back, reaches into his big coat, and puts on glasses that are darkened like the masks the Comps wear Outside. But these are strange, with dials at their sides, and they completely obscure his eyes.

  “Listen.” His voice is even and intense. “Your brother’s in danger. I need to get him out of Haven.”

  Now I know he’s crazy. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “People can’t live Outside. Nothing can, except rats and Shredders.”

  “That’s what they want you to believe.” His long dark hair falls against the side of his face, and he pushes it back with a strong, powerful hand. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen—and the sexiest. What’s wrong with me? I want Cal. I love Cal.

  “Who wants us to believe?” I ask, my voice breathier than I want it to be.

  “Hush.” He steps closer and lowers his voice. “The so-called Management of this place, that’s who.”

  My heart thumps so loudly I can hear it, and it bothers me that he’s so cool and calm. I need to seem as cool and calm as he does because I need answers—and I need to make him leave us alone. Although I’ve heard everything he’s said, it’s like my thoughts are a puzzle and none of the pieces he’s offering fit.

  I’m rubbing my ring so hard that it heats against my skin, but I have to admit I’m intrigued about the idea of life beyond the dome. Years ago, my grandparents were among the lucky ones hired to help build Haven, escaping certain death. Stories from BTD are vague, incomplete, and contradictory—such talk outside GT is against policy. Still, if the earth was once big enough that people flew through the air in machines, it doesn’t make sense that we’re the only ones left. The only ones who figured out a way to survive. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

  “Believe me. Or don’t. Doesn’t matter.” Burn towers over me and I catch my reflection in his lenses.

  Fists form at my sides. I can’t look away and wonder if this is how the rats feel when I’ve got them trapped. Burn knows nothing about my life, nothing about Drake, nothing about me. “Why would you claim my father’s alive?”

  “Because he is.”

  “My father was expunged. Torn apart by the Shredders.”

  “So they told you.”

  “Is my father a Shredder? Is that what you’re saying?” I hate my father, but that’s worse than thinking he’s dead.

  “No.”

  “Well, which is it?” I snap. “He’s either dead or a Shredder. Once you’re exposed to the dust, those are the only two options.”

  “Those are more Management lies.”

  “You lie. Give me one reason I should believe anything you say.”

  “Don’t believe me then. Your father asked me to save your brother, not you.”

  My stomach contracts. “He doesn’t need saving. I keep him safe.”

  He glares down at me and his strong jaw twitches, but he doesn’t respond.

  I want to hit him. “Even if I believe that my father is alive—which I don’t—why should I listen to anything he says? He’s a murderer.”

  He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, and I risk a quick glance at his eyes, dark and intense.

  My fingernails dig into my palms but I don’t release my fists. Right now, I can use all the anger I can find. “I know people,” I tell Burn. “Important people. People who could have you arrested and expunged.”

  The side of his mouth cocks up. “You mean your little boyfriend on the roof?”

  He’s mocking me. I stare into his eyes and lock my thoughts onto his heart, but he closes his eyes and shakes his head before I have a chance.

  He reopens his eyes and glares. “Not as easy to kill as a rat, am I?”

  I suck in a sharp breath. “Leave me alone. Stay away from me and Drake or you’ll find out just how easily I can kill.”

  Looking him in the eyes, I focus my anger on his lungs and tune into the organs’ spongy pockets. I squeeze, pressing out the air, and although he stays still and doesn’t try to fight or look away, I can tell that he feels the power of my curse. His chest heaves in sharp thrusts as he tries to draw breaths.

  “Stop it,” he says low and hard. “If you kill me, your brother will die.”

  I look away to release him and he sucks in a few hard breaths as I rock, dizzy from using my curse, even if only for seconds.

  He catches me
before I fall. “Careful.”

  I pull my arm away. “I’m going to call the Compliance Department. In a few minutes this alley will be swarming with Comps.”

  He grabs my arm. “Don’t.” There’s a fire in his eyes, and fear snakes down my spine. But I throw my shoulders back.

  The veins on his temple bulge and his face reddens.

  My back strikes the wall behind me before I realize I’ve moved. I thought Burn was intense when he was calm, but as his anger builds, it’s like he’s growing taller, wider, filling out the previously baggy clothes. Fear grabs hold of my chest, paralyzes me for an instant before adrenaline surges. I run.

  But I slam into him—somehow he ran faster or leaped over me, and his huge body blocks my path. He lifts me by the shoulders and sets me down a few feet back.

  “What are you?” I ask, my voice hardly as loud as a breath.

  “Glory.” He looks down, his eyes dark. “I have a gift, just like you. We were Chosen.”

  “Chosen for what?”

  A beam of light shines down the alley.

  “Who’s there?” an amplified voice calls.

  Burn wraps his strong arm around my waist. “Hold on.” He leaps, holding me tight, and grabs a handle hanging above us. Something clicks and we accelerate upward. Air rushes against my ears, obliterating the Comps’ shouts from below. My arms are strapped around Burn’s neck, but I have no memory of putting them there.

  Whatever he’s holding pulls us up the side of the building so quickly that the surface blurs. We decelerate as we near the roof, and before we’ve fully stopped, he releases me onto a metal landing jutting out from the building.

  “Get up.” He unhooks the contraption that pulled us up and clips it under his coat.

  I stand and he grabs me, crushing me against him. He jumps across the street to another roof. We land, hard, and loose gravel crunches beneath his boots.

  His muscles flex against my body as he runs. I’ve never imagined a person could be as solid as a concrete wall, yet fluid.

  “How?” My breath is gone and the word’s barely audible.

  “Up there. We’ve got him surrounded.” Comps’ voices shout in the darkness, echoing off the walls and the sky. I can’t place their locations as searchlights bounce off buildings and bridges around us. Fighting to find my bearings, I spot the windowless gray walls of the Compliance Building to my right. We went north from the alley; my Pent is west and south.

  “Ready?”

  “Where are we going?” I ask, but without answering he leaps.

  We land on another rooftop and he barely breaks stride. “Don’t choke me,” he says.

  I release his neck and adjust my hold, unable to reach fully around his broad chest. He jumps and I cling, my fingers clutching his coat.

  We land on another roof at least two stories down, and he grunts. My teeth ache from the impact.

  But he doesn’t stop. He runs and jumps again. We fly across another alley.

  Midair, I slide several inches, terrified his grip will fail, but it doesn’t. It’s as if his arm’s melded to my waist, holding me against the heat of his body.

  We land. “I could use some help here.” He adjusts his hold on me as he runs.

  I lock my legs around his ribs and tighten my grip on his shoulders.

  He leaps again, then again, then again, and I resist the urge to close my eyes as we move across Haven, virtually flying from building to building—so many I’ve lost count. I search for landmarks, no longer sure where I am.

  A spotlight strikes us, blinding me for an instant.

  “Crap.” Burn skids along a rooftop, his boots sliding on the fine gravel as the building’s edge rushes toward us. We’re going to shoot off.

  We stop. There’s nothing between us and the narrow alley—many stories below. Burn teeters, madly waving the arm that’s not holding me.

  It doesn’t work.

  His muscles contract as we fall.

  Plummeting, I open my mouth to scream but nothing comes out. I close my eyes tight and prepare myself for the end.

  Instead, a clang then the shrill screech of metal against metal fills my ears. Trying to figure out where the sound came from, I begin to slip from his grasp. His arm tightens. Looking up, I discover we’re dangling. Burn’s other arm holds a ladder on the brick building opposite from the one we fell off.

  “Can you climb?” He lifts me to the ladder before waiting for an answer. “Go. Run. Hide. I’ll find you.” And with that, he drops from the ladder.

  A chill hits my body as he departs. Darkness engulfs him and I can’t see where he lands or if he survives. My hands grip the ladder so tightly my knuckles turn white.

  A spotlight sweeps across the building below me, and I climb the ladder then scramble into the first open space I find—a narrow corridor with doors every five or six feet. There’s no light, but the smell of cooking meat means this building’s residential. Not hearing any movement, I sit and lean my head against the wall, panting, resting my hands on the wooden floor.

  What just happened? I’ve never heard of a Deviant as strong as Burn existing. My waist feels tender where he gripped me, but it’s hard to deny that his intentions were to save, not to hurt me. Not that I trust him. I can’t.

  Rustling comes from behind a door across the hall.

  I push to my feet and run forward. Something catches the toe of my shoe. My stomach rises in my throat as I’m thrown forward and slam into the floorboards. Pain shoots up my arms and knees, but I can’t afford to survey the damage. A door opens behind me, so I get up and stumble forward, hoping that I’ll find a staircase or bridge at the end of the hall.

  Another door opens. “In here.” A woman beckons but I shake my head. She might be an Auditor.

  Faint light comes in from an opening at the end of the hall. I stumble toward it. When I get there, I almost lose my balance. I’m at least fifteen stories from the ground. Above, the sky is high, sloping to the left and darkened for night. Given its height and slope, I must be about a quarter mile to the east of the Hub.

  A thick rope lies at my feet, tied to a girder. Without other choices I bend down and turn, grabbing the rope and walking down the outside of the building. Two floors down, the building’s shape changes, and I’m left dangling about five feet away from the wall. Even if I swing, I couldn’t use the building or my feet to help my descent anymore. Hand over hand, I lower myself, searching in the darkness for openings.

  My feet hit a knot and I rest for a moment before beginning to lower myself again, only to discover the knot is at the end of the rope. There’s nowhere left to go. Using my arms, I pull myself up a few feet and scramble to find the knot with my feet, but my muscles won’t cooperate. They burn and scream, and the skin on my hands is slick with sweat, or possibly blood.

  I look around me. No openings. Then down. Nothing.

  Hands cramping, I slip down the rope as my legs flail in nothingness. My throat tightens but I can’t give up.

  What use is a rope to nowhere? No use. And there’s no piece of rope, no scrap of metal, no piece of fabric unused in Haven.

  I spin my head around, searching. Surely if I swing, then push off the side of this building, there must be somewhere to leap to, but I can’t see where. The next building is too far away and even if I could get there, it looks like sheer concrete.

  Looking down, a sliver of light glints off a surface only ten or fifteen feet below. Blinking rapidly, then squinting, I try to bring it into focus but it’s gone into the darkness.

  My hands slip. I panic then let them slide until I’m holding the knot. My palms burn, my hands cramp. I close my eyes to think. Even if I can hold on until the sun’s light reveals what’s below me—doubtful—Comps will patrol at some point. There’s no chance I can hold on much longer. Besides, I need to get home to Drake. There must be something below this rope.

  I let go and drop.

  Slam. My feet strike something with a loud clank. Pain shoots up
from my ankle. I’ve twisted it but I’ve landed. And lived. My throat pinches. If I’d died or been arrested, what would have happened to Drake? I can’t afford to dwell on that now.

  Bending, I explore my surroundings in the darkness and discover slatted metal beneath my feet. I’m on a balcony, or a landing, jutting out from the side of the building. Crawling I find the wall, then a sheet of wood covering what used to be a window. It won’t budge, and a chain and padlock explain why.

  Great. Continuing to fumble, I crawl back to the balcony’s edge and discover a lever. My heart sprints as I run my hands over what I’m quite sure is the top of a ladder that will drop down from this platform.

  I pull the lever and the sound of clanging metal echoes in the quiet alleyway. With no way to silence it, I move down the ladder, hoping to race the noise and escape from whomever might hear. The last thing I need is for someone to come out to investigate, or call the Comps.

  At the bottom of the ladder, it’s still dark, but my eyes have adjusted to reveal the top of what looks like the door into the building. I must be near the ground.

  I drop and land, knees bent, rolling to the side to absorb the impact. My ankle screams in protest, as do the scrapes, but I’m off the building; I’ve hit the surface. Relief floods my body, but I can’t afford to rest. With all the leaps Burn made, I don’t know where I am, but it won’t take me long to figure that out. I have a fighting chance to get home. I wonder if Burn’s been as lucky.

  Who cares? It’s safer for Drake and me if he gets expunged.

  But I can’t count on his being caught, and he must know where we live. I need a new place to hide Drake.

  Worse, Burn’s not the only danger we face. Someone in Management knows about Drake, and even if Cal believes he can warn us before the Comps come, I can’t be certain. I can’t risk Drake’s life on Cal’s assurances.