The burning switches to a screeching pain, and hot tears fill my eyes, but I won’t make a sound.
“Better than nothing,” he says, snapping the lighter shut. He fingers the wetness on my cheek. “You may not best her in looks, but maybe you’re a better brand of girl for me.” He tosses me onto the footrest. My arm sears with pain, and my wrist is bubbled. Swollen and melted in places. It swells until my fingers curl and stiffen.
Johnny has disfigured me.
“You bastard!”
He stands, glaring down with a chuckle. He’s picked up the glass—finally—and holds it only inches from his lips. “Rain, Rain. Why do I have the feeling that we’ll never get rid of each other?”
I want to kill him.
“To you and your unflagging stubbornness.” He presses the glass to his lips, but a knock interrupts him. He sets the drink down and crosses to the door to face a very stunned Ben. “What is it? I didn’t call for you.”
Panic and anger rear up in my body. I grab the silver lamp with my good hand and charge, smashing it against the back of his head.
Johnny crumples to the floor.
“Rain!” Ben gasps. He hurries to shut the door behind him, but I’ve already fallen to the floor, holding out my burnt wrist. The pain is all over me, hot and tingly like I showered in it.
Ben kneels. “Hell,” he breathes, taking my claw-like hand and turning it over so that he can see the full extent of the burn. He pats his pockets but comes up empty; Johnny still has all of his gadgets.
“Hold tight,” he says, darting around the room. He rips part of the bed sheet and doses it with liquor from the bar. Then he wraps it around my wrist, and I shake as the alcohol soothes and stings as it begins to numb the burn. Ben pulls me into a hug, holding me tightly while my breath levels. “What happened? What did you do to provoke him?”
“Do? Are you kidding? I was simply here. Then I was not as beautiful as Crysta or as weak as her. I didn’t do anything!” My irritation gives me a degree of stability that hugging Ben couldn’t match. I get to my feet, checking the ceiling. “What about the cameras?”
He laughs and stands. “You think of that now? After you’ve ruined hotel property and knocked out your pimp?” He nudges the dented lamp with his foot. “Don’t worry. It was a pathetically simple system to hack. The only thing they’re going to see on this room’s feed is that it’s empty.”
I cast a look at Johnny’s crumpled body and wipe away residual tears. “All right. Let’s go. Let’s do this.” He doesn’t move, and I have the sudden urge to hit him with the lamp. “Well?” I step toward the door. “You ready?”
“I think we’re going to attract enough attention between your hair and my race, but . . .”
“But what?”
“Walking through the casino half-naked might cross the line.”
I glance down at my underwear. “Shit!” I dart after my clothes, and Ben stifles a laugh as he hauls Johnny over to the bed and tosses his body onto the mattress. I yank my dress over my head and tie my hair back into a braid.
“Now you look ready,” he says.
I feel the hint of a smile that I won’t give him. “Not a word about that ever again. All right?” I touch my bandaged wrist, wincing a little.
“All right.” His own grin fades. “Rain, if you want to change your mind, I understand. This is damn near suicidal. I’ve rigged the cargo holds’ security, but if he actually checks them in person . . . or if he has other ways that we don’t know about . . .”
“A thousand souls, Ben.” I pause. “A thousand.”
CHAPTER
21
The sky has turned from velvet to coal outside the transparent walls of the casino. We push through the stream of people, getting separated more than once. I was used to directional crowds during the factory shift processions on Earth City, but this swirling hoard is much different. Here, people change directions after only a few steps. They pause unexpectedly, causing me to run into them and other people to run into me. I’m frustrated before we’re even beyond sight of the Silving Suns Hotel.
When a large group of men comes straight at us, Ben reaches back for my hand at the same moment that I reach forward for his. Our fingers weave and lock together, and I swear my heart thuds doubly because of it.
We take stairs to the rooftop parking instead of the fancy rising pedestal that brought us into the casino. I welcome the familiarity of handrails and concrete steps, but I must be gripping Ben a little too firmly because he pauses at the door to the roof and looks at our entwined hands.
“It’s a weird place, isn’t it?” he says as though he feels as awkward on this strange planet as I do. “Many of the spaceports along the Void are crowded and crazy like this. Everyone is for hire here for one thing or another.”
“Is this what the Edge is like?”
He smiles. “The Edge is very different. Probably unlike anything you’ve ever imagined.” We release each other’s hands slowly. “There are some places there that I would love to take you. Like the rockfalls out beyond the blue lakes. Or the underground steel market. Or the crystal caves on the far side of the moon.”
“Moon caves?” Now I’m smiling. “Sounds unbelievable.”
“It’ll blow your mind,” he says. I have to look away from the very affectionate tone of his voice and the sudden desire to leave everything and go with Ben to the Edge. Just the two of us. No Walker or Touched. No Johnny.
Could we do it alone? I bet we could.
The back of the exit door is hammered out of a crude metal, and the small window frame bears a familiar stamp: MADE ON EARTH.
“Samson was right.” I point it out to Ben. “He said I’d be impressed to find Earth City stuff at the other end of the universe. I didn’t believe him, but”—I say while running my fingers over the letters,—“it’s pretty great, isn’t it?”
“Sure, it is.” His tone is still too low and intimate, and then the stairwell becomes too quiet. “Are you ready?” he asks.
“I’m always ready,” I say and lead us out. Tiny stars penetrate the black sky alongside dual silvery moons. We make our way through the maze of vehicles on the rooftop parking lot until we find ours.
I slide into the driver’s seat beside Ben, and he grips the steering post. “You do know how to pilot this thing, right?”
“Of course.” He clears his throat. “I could have done it when I was a kid, but . . .”
“But?”
“I’m having doubts.”
“No doubting this, Ben. All those people need us.”
“Yes, but . . .”
I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t, and I’m annoyed that he could think about going back when we’ve come this far. “Don’t freeze up on me now. Not after what I had to do. You just had to play with the network; I went back to his bed for this chance. Think about that for a second!” I settle down. “Actually don’t think about it. I don’t know why I said that.”
“I like you, Rain,” he deadpans. I bark a laugh, and he darts a look at me. “I mean it. I thought that maybe if I say it, I can think about something else. I should be terrified about what we’re going to do. I should have my mind on the plan, but I can’t stop imagining what he’ll do to you if he catches us.”
“You’re not thinking about me. You’re thinking about Bron,” I say. “It’s just remorse. Believe me, I’m guilt incarnate. You don’t want to feel guilty about causing my death like you do about hers.”
“Nevermind.” He circles the engines to life, and the vibrations hum up my legs. “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he adds under his breath and pulls the hover cab into a steep ascending spiral that flattens me against the seatback.
I grasp the straps. “Damn, Ben. Samson doesn’t drive like this.”
“Samson isn’t under a time crunch. We’ve only got until sunrise before what we’re doing becomes obvious to any sky traffic.” He shuts off the headlights as we zoom higher over the planet.
/> “Whoa. I can’t see a thing!”
“And that’s why you’re not driving.” The blue engine lights make their way up through the cracks of the cab, lighting Ben’s stern face.
“So you like me?”
“You want to talk about this now?”
“You brought it up.” I twist in my seat to face him. “I like you, too. At least, I don’t dislike you the way I used to.”
He cracks a grin. “That’s progress.”
“Plus you don’t really make me feel like a girl, so that’s good.”
“Great,” he says, giving the word an extra syllable. I had said girl instead of prostitute. He should follow that, right? I watch him, teetering on the edge of giving away too much. Ben says he likes me, but as a friend or as something more? His words dangle either way . . . and I am Johnny’s girl. Is there a chance that he thinks and rethinks our moments like I do?
Suddenly, I can’t think of anything other than the fact that he can see my body temperature flare through the darkness.
“It’s not fair,” I say, and he looks back at the controls. “No one should be able to see in the dark. That’s where people need to be able to keep their secrets. Maybe that explains why people don’t trust Mecs.”
“I could watch you all night without figuring you out. Believe me, your secrets are well hidden.” He adjusts his grip on the steering column and clears his throat. “We’re coming up on Imreas.” I peer into the night, making out a black spot in the sky that’s blocking all the stars. It looms larger and larger until the dark mass becomes a wall of silver metal.
Ben inserts a few commands on the control board. “I’ve got the catch out. I just need to hit the sweet spot.” He brings the hover cab up to the side of the massive starship where I can see the handles of the two cargo crates fitted like drawers into the outer hull.
“That’s how he gets them onboard without anyone realizing it, isn’t it?” I say. “The cops put them in those crates. And Johnny takes the crates away. No witnesses except a handful of trusted crew members.”
“They were designed for food shipments. You pull them out, fill them on planet, and then hoist them back into the side of the ship. Easy. Except, of course, that Johnny’s never used them for supplies.” The hover cab shifts as the catch clicks into a large loop on the side of the first crate. “But then that works to our benefit; so few people know what Johnny really does with those crates that no one will ask why we’re unloading them. They’ll just think it’s a supply run.”
Ben steers us clear of Imreas, and a banging sound shakes through the vehicle. “That’s just the chain letting out,” he says. Something clangs like a great lock, and Ben brings the hover cab further away. I squint, seeing one huge crate separate from Imreas’s side, swinging free in the limited gravity but connected to us by a thick cable.
Ben breathes a huge sigh and pilots us back toward Entra’s surface. “Now it’s your turn. There’s a harness and a drop line by the back door.”
I shimmy over the driver’s seat and into the passenger section of the hover cab. “A harness?” I pick up a unit of straps.
“Yeah, get it on over your waist. I can’t set this cab down on the surface through the trees, so you’ll have to rappel down, get the door open, and lead them out.”
I find leg holes in the harness and secure the clasp over my hips, then I follow the connecting line to where it hooks to the ceiling. By the time I look out the window again, Ben has us over the forest on the far side of the planet.
Here the moons are large and looming.
A crash sounds as the crate lands on the ground below, and the hover cab comes to a jerky halt just over the tree line. I fling open the door and look down. I’m a hundred feet from the ground, nothing below but the huge crate resting between the trees on the forest floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” I scream at Ben.
“This is as close as I can get!” he yells back. “Go now!”
I get my hand around the release and move to the edge. My heart slams in my throat. The hover cab sways in the wind, and I look down at the longest drop I’ve ever faced, let alone considered jumping from.
“Go!” Ben calls.
I step out.
And that’s all it really takes to fall.
I swing to a stop in the harness only feet from the top of the crate. From there I have to let the line out by hand, zipping down to the ground a few feet at a time. As soon as my feet touch the soil, I circle around to the crate’s doors, turn the wheel lock and pull the gates open.
Hundreds of faces peer through the crate. Their eyes blink glassily, and the stench of their captivity fills the cool night air.
“You’re free.” My mouth is dry, and my voice cracks. I point toward the woods. “Go!”
But none of them move.
I grab the nearest man and tug him out of the crate. He turns in a full circle but won’t keep walking. I grab another and another, but they linger, bumping into each other.
“Go! Go!” I scream, pulling at arms and shoulders to get more of them out, but they stiffen in clustered groups, blocking the exit. A few hold on to each other the way Walker always held on to me. They’re afraid. How can people say the Touched are brain dead when they clearly feel fear and pain? When they cry when they’re hungry or flee when there’s danger—
That’s it!
There were words that I used to help Walker through his fogs. Food was one. No matter how lost he became in the quicksand of his mind, if I said “food” he would open his mouth.
And the other one was instinctual as well, the word I used to trigger his flight response.
“RUN!”
I’m beaten back by the stampede, gripping the hover cab line to keep them from knocking me over as they flee and scatter on old bones and starved limbs. They must know. Somewhere beneath all those blanked surfaces, they can smell the clean air and the soil underfoot.
When the last one has disappeared through the shadowy trees, I close the crate doors, seal the lock, and press the button that returns me to the hover cab. The wind kicks my hair from my face while I soar toward the blue glow, and I feel my dad. My missing family. I feel their pride through me like a blaze of fiery light.
Once inside, I shut the door.
“Well,” Ben says. “Are they gone?”
“They’re free.”
I collapse across the backseat as we surge up in a spiral toward the night sky and the black shadow of Imreas for the second crate. This time, I’m brimming with joy when I leap from the hover cab and fling open the doors. I imagine my mom and Jeremy sprinting into the woods, and am filled with the hope that saving these people is like helping them.
The cops on Earth City tried to make the Touched disappear, but all they did was sever our society into pieces too small to function. Too small to thrive.
Toward the end of the second group, the two small blonde girls, still holding hands, streak into the dark like links in a chain that can’t be broken.
Ben and I return the empty crate to its spot on Imreas’s side and head back to Entra. I slip the harness off and climb over the front seat to join him. “Johnny won’t even know that they’re gone until it’s too late to come back for them.”
“That’s the hope.” He takes a deep breath. “Now we just have to go back and pretend like nothing’s changed so he doesn’t suspect anything. We were fast,” he adds. “Still two hours until dawn.”
“Do we have to go back?” I ask.
“You know we do.”
“My brother,” I say, answering my own question.
“Not to mention the fact that if we don’t return and act normal, Johnny will suspect something. Our entire plan rests on the idea that he doesn’t bother to check those crates in person.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” I glance out the window at the shadowy rush of the tree line.
He clicks his com against my red bracelet. “Plus, running away is a death wish. All he has to do is press
a button and we’re zapped. Remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say again. I had almost forgotten that Johnny could electrocute us through our tags. “But it’s not dawn yet. And he’s still out. We don’t have to rush back.”
“You’re right. We don’t.” He steers the cab out over the forest, bringing us down with a jarring thump on the only spot wide enough for the vehicle to land—a cliff face overlooking a wide, glistening lake.
We get out in silence. The light is different here. Brighter. Ben’s silhouette is lit against a navy sky, and the white moons shine within an aura of clouds.
“What can you see?” I ask.
“It’s deep water,” he says. “A submerged canyon.”
“This planet is so empty of people and yet full of life.”
Ben rubs his arms and nods. “It would make an amazing relocation place for Earth Cityites. There used to be talks about it on the Edge, but that was before they started to become entangled with Mec culture. Apart from the K-Force, my people don’t care much for the rest of humanity, Rain. It’s embarrassing. Heartbreaking, really.”
“But you said that they never really leave the Edge. So maybe they don’t know about Earth City. About the Touched or the slaving in the Void.”
“They know enough to ignore it,” he says sadly.
I step to the edge of the canyon, peering over the side. The water is black, but the reflecting moons highlight a slight ripple on the surface. I sit on the ledge, my feet dangling over the drop.
Ben shuffles down next to me. “I can’t really believe that we did it. You?”
“I believe it.” Out over the water, small bats swoop, diving toward the surface only to swing up like a dance. “When Walker was little, he would run through alleys with his arms out, singing high notes that echoed off the bricks. Dad called him the Night Bird like it was his superhero name.”
“You make me wish that I wasn’t an only child.” Ben scoots over until our legs touch. I turn to face him, finding him so very close. “What do you want to do now?”
The Color of Rain Page 17