The Barter System Companion: Volume One

by Shayne McClendon

  Hollow could not afford friends.

  Read “Embrace the Wild” by clicking here.

  Savine in Review

  Seattle - October 2005

  At First

  Her first memory was the word orange. It was the color of a construction cone at the end of an alley where she slept. It was the brightest thing around her and she fell in love with it. She was sad the day men took the cone away.

  The mystery of her name was revealed the day her mother fought to hang on to her as a policeman tried to take her away.

  “Savine! Let go of her! She’s just a baby! Savine!”

  In a place with lots of kids, she didn’t talk to them. She wasn’t sure she knew how to talk, wasn’t sure what she would say if she did. Instead of talking or playing, she liked the books. They were filled with bright pictures, words that seemed to be magic.

  Pain was introduced into her world when she was three years old. Back with her mother, living on a mattress beneath a bridge, it was so cold.

  A man hurt her mother and when Savine tried to help, he threw her against one of the big cement support beams. Everything was dark for a long time. Long enough that the sun came out again and her mother said the sun made everything better.

  On the day she learned humiliation, she was supposed to start school. In a home where she hadn’t seen her mother in months, a man who was supposed to help all the little ones told the other adults she had a fever.

  When they were alone, he pressed her against the back wall of a storage closet and touched her roughly under her clothes. He pressed his hand over her mouth to silence the noises she made of fury, hurt, and sadness.

  The day her mother died, Savine was eight. She sat beside her bed and learned the words dirty syringe and AIDS in the worst possible context. Always beautiful despite her problems, her mother was emaciated and weak.

  As the last breath left her body, she whispered, “I was the spoiled little rich girl who wandered too far from home. Don’t wander too far, Savine. Find an anchor and hang on tight.”

  A couple took her in and taught her the words respect, gentle, and safety. The mother brushed her hair every day and smiled easily. Then the father lost his job and she wasn’t allowed to stay with them anymore.

  The nice woman insisted she take the clothes, books, and hairbrush with her when the social worker took her out of their home while the couple sobbed.

  Being with other kids never worked well. She learned the words hatred, jealousy, and revenge. Slipping through a door that wasn’t properly closed, she walked out into the night with a pillowcase holding everything she owned.

  At eleven, she started noticing kids go missing. She tried to find out information from the adults on the street.

  Some were too dangerous to talk to and others didn’t understand words because they were lost in the jungle of their minds. The ones she knew had information were afraid to share it. Some of them ended up dead.

  In the library closest to the abandoned building where she lived, she used paper towels to wipe her face and brush her hair. Stripping down in the handicapped stall, she washed her body as well as she could and put on the outfit she kept clean to go inside off the streets.

  Sometimes, she pretended to have lost her wallet and a library patron would give her a few dollars. All the other food she ate was stolen but she tried to take as little as she could.

  At the end of the day, she changed back to the dirty outfit. Walking the few blocks to the building, she climbed into the tiny storage space under a damaged staircase and stayed silent until dawn.

  Most people who entered such a building never noticed the vent access. She was safe there for almost a year. Days spent in the library on the computers, nights in total darkness.

  Until the day he sat down beside her. The day she found her anchor and held on tight.

  The Time Before

  For as long as Savine could remember, she’d been alone.

  Sometimes, she was taken in by well-meaning organizations or government agencies but always, she ended up back on the streets.

  After a while, being without a home became a home of its’ own. At twelve, she felt as if she was a hundred but chronological age didn’t mean shit when the world showed you the darkest underbelly of itself.

  For a long moment, she stared through the tinted library windows to the bustling street beyond.

  A soft bing told her the search she ran was ready.

  Pulling the keyboard closer, she examined the result of her hack into the local police database.

  She wanted information about several girls and two boys who’d gone missing over six months in the Seattle area. Anyone with them at the time was executed. Bodies were found in the tunnels or under the bridges, the alleyways.

  Anywhere the homeless congregated for safety, people went missing. There were no leads, the media didn’t care, and no one was really looking for people with no names and no discount cards for the local supermarket.

  They were the people in between and held no legitimate place in the minds of society at large.

  However, they were not without value.

  It was important she find them or at least discover what happened to them to protect herself and others.

  The small clues led to larger ones, a bigger picture forming as the beautiful man took the seat beside her.

  Lean with black hair and silver-gray eyes, the man stared at her for a long time without speaking.

  Finally, he murmured, “I won’t hurt you. I’m not from the police department or any agency. I came to warn you your searches are dangerous. The computers aren’t secure here. What leads you to them will lead them to you.”

  She snorted in annoyance. “It’s only a matter of time before they take me anyway.”

  “Why do you think that?” he asked her quietly.

  The smile she gave him probably showed her sadness, her understanding of reality. “People in the real world don’t understand what a curse it is to be pretty on the streets. I know the curse. I’ve always known it. Like the others who’re missing, I’ve got something they want.” She shrugged. “There’s no one to miss me.”

  “I’m sorry.” She thought he meant it.

  No matter the dirt that often covered her, the tattered clothes she was forced to wear, the conditions she lived in, nothing hid the natural beauty she’d inherited from her broken mother.

  Inhaling carefully as she crushed down thoughts of a woman long dead, she confessed, “I thought of scarring myself…”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.” His voice was low. Though she’d heard many speak in such a way who were far from gentle, she trusted him and didn’t know why. “Would you like my help?”

  “In exchange for what? Nothing’s free. There’s always a price.” Another truth.

  “How old are you?”

  “I’ll be twelve, I think. The date isn’t always the same when child services picks me up.”

  “For you to have the skills you do with few resources at hand tells me you’re like me. Something of a prodigy when it comes to making computers tell you what you want to know.”

  She sat back and this time her smile was real. “You need a hacker?”

  “I always need hackers.”

  “Is it illegal?” He nodded and she appreciated his honesty. “Is it dangerous?” He nodded again and she asked, “Will I have to be touched?”

  “No one will be allowed to touch you unless medically necessary for sickness or injury. I make that vow on my life.”

  “I don’t like to be touched. I hate it.”

  “I understand.” His expression told her he probably knew exactly what she spoke of and she was honored by his trust. “Will you come with me?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  He stood and helped her pull out her chair. “Quickly. You’ve been traced.”

  Without a word, she followed him from an exit in the basement and into the back of a black SUV.

  As they crossed the
intersection, she saw three identical cars pull up in front of the library. Many men dressed in suits got out and entered the building.

  She looked at him with wide eyes. “You knew but you took the time to ask. Why?”

  “When you have no choices in life, every choice matters. You deserved to make it on your own, without threat of capture.”

  Facing forward, she stated, “Those men weren’t police.”

  “No.”

  “They work for whoever is taking the street kids.”

  “Yes.”

  Turning her face, she whispered, “I want to hunt him. I want to help destroy him. They had names. They had heartbeats. They mattered. Not to everyone, but to me. To me, they existed.”

  “To me as well.” He held her gaze without blinking.

  “Show me how to take him down.”

  “There’s one condition.” She tensed. “You can’t be seen on the streets here for many years. Your photo circulates in the underground and your features are memorable. If you reappear, you’ll be noticed. Being noticed puts you and anyone with you in danger.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Train, study, and work in a fully protected building.”

  “Where?”

  “New York City.” The idea of moving so far from the only things she’d ever known was strangely exciting. “You’ll be safe.” She nodded. “You trust my word?”

  Leaning her head against the seat, she sighed. “You have death in your eyes. Your soul’s in hiding.” Inhaling deeply, she asked, “What do I call you?”

  “Hollow.”

  “If any of this is a lie, I’ll kill myself at the first opportunity.”

  “Understood. I respect your choice.”

  Putting her hand out, he moved to shake it and she slapped their palms instead. “Nice to meet you, Hollow. I’m ready to get to work.”

  “First the flight, then a shower, food, and sleep.”

  “No. First a computer. I need to start scans that’ll take hours, possibly days to run.”

  One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Alright then. A computer first. Glad to have you on board, Savine.”

  “Ha. For now. I haven’t technically hit the teen years yet. I’ve heard those are the worst. I’ll wish you luck now.”

  Hollow laughed and she would always remember it as the first time she understood beauty.

  Home

  Of all the things Savine loved about stepping into Hollow’s world, the one she loved most were the people who surrounded him.

  Some of them were broken, many were alone, and all of them were deadly in one way or another. None of that mattered to her. She considered them family.

  Stepping off the freight elevator into the first of several warehouses she’d call home over the next decade, a pretty redhead did a cartwheel and landed in front of her.

  “Big fan of your work. I’m Tawny. Everyone here calls me Red. We’ve nicknamed you Vine.” Wrapping her hand around her shoulders, she led her from the elevator. “It’s because you can crawl up the strongest walls.”

  Red continued, “Now! I bought you stuff and decorated your room but I consider you my surrogate kid already. I’ll hate your boyfriends, we’ll argue over your choice of music, and when you miss curfew, I’ll shake my head and lecture you about poor choices.”

  Savine’s eyes felt big as saucers. “Really?”

  “Fuck no. We’ll be surrogate mom and kid but I bet you’ll hate my boyfriends, complain about the rap I blast during workouts, and I’m late for everything so…yeah, you’re the mom.”

  The words made Savine laugh and Tawny winked.

  Pushing open a metal door, she bowed with a hand gesture like she was doing magic or something. “Your quarters, madam.”

  Clutching the dirty backpack she brought with her from Seattle, Savine stared at the space without going inside for almost a minute.

  Turning her head, she asked quietly, “I sleep here?”

  Hand on her hip, Tawny grinned. “You live here, buttercup. These are your digs. I’ve set up your laptop with security the White House wishes it could get…but it can’t! Muahahaha!”

  Savine blinked.

  Standing like a lady with her hands folded delicately in front of her body, Tawny cleared her throat. “Okay. Let’s start over. I tend to be manic. This is your home now. You have one and we’re glad to have you. This is your bedroom and sort-of office but you can work wherever you want.”

  Reaching out, she took Savine’s hand and pulled her through the door. “That’s your bed. That’s your desk. This,” she opened a smaller door, “is your closet filled with your new shit because you’re a girl and a kid and you’ve clearly been through a goddamn nightmare.”

  Clapping her hands, she announced, “Let me show you the bathroom. A nice shower will clear your head.”

  Outside the room, she led her down the hall and banged on the door. “Get the fuck out. A chick needs these facilities!”

  The door swung wide so fast Savine gave a small scream.

  A man stood there who made her feel lightheaded. Dark brown hair was still wet and slicked back from his forehead. Deep eyes of the same color stared at Tawny in frustration.

  He wore a towel wrapped around his waist and his body was unlike anything she’d ever seen outside a magazine.

  “Lass, ye were in here for two hours earlier. What else could ye possibly need ta do?” The sound of his Irish accent made Savine’s mouth go dry. His eyes focused on her. “Hello, pretty girl. I’m Finn.”

  “S-Savine.”

  “Pretty name fer a pretty lass.” He returned to glaring at Tawny. “I’m waitin’.”

  Without a word, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him into the hall. “Vine needs to shower and change. You have a penis and you can wait.”

  Tugging Savine into the bathroom, she slammed the door in his face. “Okay, you’ll find all the stuff you need in your locker.” She was shocked at her name on a metal door. “Towels inside and a bathrobe if you’d rather dress in your room. Flip flops in the bottom.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m going to beat up Finn. Take your time and enjoy your shower!”

  Then she was gone and Savine locked the door behind her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a real shower.

  Twenty minutes later, she emerged in the robe and plastic shoes, her dirty clothes in her hands. Red had Finn in a headlock across the hall. His towel was dangerously close to being history.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Think nothin’ of it, lass. Whistle if ye need anything. I’m Hollow’s computer boy in the field.”

  “Sometimes, he even knows how to follow directions. We live for those days.” Tawny kissed the top of his head and let him go. “Geez, go put some clothes on. Why ya running around half naked, Finn?”

  He made a sound of frustration.

  Arm around Savine’s shoulder, Tawny led her back to her room and showed her where things were while she tried to grasp the fact that she had more than two outfits and a room with a door that locked as well as electricity.

  “Get dressed and come on out when you’re ready so I can scare you up some food.” With a wink, she was gone again.

  Pulling on clothes that fit her better than any she’d worn in years, Savine brushed her hair carefully and cracked the door to look into the hall.

  Suddenly, she closed it and put everything that belonged to her back in her old backpack and took it with her. Just in case.

  She crept along the wall toward the sound of voices. At the end of it, she stood in the shadows and watched Tawny and Hollow laugh. They made food that smelled amazing around a big metal island and the redhead regularly slapped him.

  “Aren’t ye hungry, lass?”

  The voice behind her made her scream and she whirled, her leg coming up the way one of the nuns at a shelter she stayed at for a while showed her.

  Finn’s palm lightly bumpe
d against her ankle to stop her from connecting to the side of his face, his eyes wide. He immediately took a step back and put his hands out.

  “Not gonna hurt ye, pretty girl.”

  She plastered herself against the wall. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Hollow appeared and crouched in front of her. “There you are. No harm done. We’d all like to kick Finn sometimes. I bet you’re hungry.” He smiled and motioned to the kitchen. “Come on.”

  Standing, he backed toward the open space and she followed.

  Tawny held up a bottled drink. “We don’t do that nasty soda shit so if you’re into that, the guys will have to smuggle it to you. I’m not rotting your cells. Apple juice?” Savine nodded, still embarrassed. “Hey.” Their eyes met. “Each of us has issues. You’re no different than we are. It’s all good.”

  Hollow pulled out a barstool and she jumped up on it.

  One hand on the back, the other on the bar, he leaned closer and smiled. “You don’t have to carry your stuff around. No one is going to hurt you here. This is your home.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded.

  Behind her, Tawny gathered her hair and braided it down her back. “Don’t want it falling in your food.”

  She handed her the juice. “I’m going to be real annoying about fluids. Drink up and watch as I point out where everything is.” One cabinet at a time, she explained the layout of the space. Then she took a basket from the pantry and set it beside Savine. “This is your food stash for your room.”

  “Mine…?”

  “All yours. Eat what you want, drink what you want, take things to your room, horde it if you need to, but you’re never to pretend you aren’t hungry. Dinner!”

  The last was screamed and two men emerged from the hall.

  “The big guy’s Gear. He and Finn are usually overseas. This is Roark.” She added in a loud whisper, “He’s my favorite but don’t tell the others. He likes to blow shit up and it endears him to me. They’re technically highly trained mercenaries but I like to refer to them as my little brothers.”

  Savine laughed.

  “People come in and out all the time but you don’t have to worry. These guys are cool and I wouldn’t tell you so if it wasn’t true. Your door locks and the two of us have the only keys. Any questions?”