by Nick James
Dropping his head down between his legs, he gritted his teeth, struggling against the growing pain. He’d conquered worse in his life. He could do it.
He removed his jacket and threw it to the floor, unfastening the top buttons of his shirt. He chest felt tied up with rubber bands. His skin was wet with sweat.
He grabbed the com-pad from his pocket, dialing Madame’s number. She knew what was wrong. She could help him.
There was a ring on the other end. No one picked up.
Another ring. Still no answer.
After five, he cursed and threw the com-pad to the other side of the bathroom. Madame said she’d be in constant contact. Why not now, when he needed her?
The tiny chamber steamed up as fire erupted inside of him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to control it much longer. He thought about running back into the cabin and forcing the door open-jumping outside. But he didn’t have the strength. He couldn’t even stand.
So he cowered like a baby, waiting for it to happen, wishing someone would come and take away the pain.
But there was no one. He’d ignored Madame. His real parents were gone. Nobody on the Chute knew him. Even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to help.
At 10:08 p.m., halfway between Portland and Spokane, car number fourteen exploded in a great ball of fire, lighting up the darkness for miles around. The flames quickly spread to the reserve engine in the back and shut down the entire Chute.
Knocked off course by the blast and unable to control its breakneck speed, the Chute’s front end plunged into the rocky abyss of the Fringes, zigzagging through the dust until it flipped sideways, carrying the rest of the train with it. Many up front died instantly, including the engineer.
The Unified Party would later blame the accident on a Pearl power surge, though the Fringers would somehow convince themselves that they were responsible. Nobody would believe the truth, that a fifteen-year-old boy had taken down a Chute carrying more than 500 passengers without as much as a weapon. The country was in dire straits, for sure, but something like that was just ridiculous.
31
I peel my body off the window, feeling my face for blood. Avery’s toppled over beside me. Her arm lies limp against my back. She’s breathing, and her eyes are open. That’s all that matters.
I inch myself along the glass, careful not to rub against the spider web cracks of jagged windowpane. Pulling myself to a crouching position, I look around the cabin.
Most everyone’s spilled over to the windows, which are now the floor. Some moan in pain. Others don’t move at all. I see a guy over in the corner, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead. I turn away, feeling sick. The old woman who sat across from me moments ago now lies in a twisted heap, her limbs all jumbled up like she’s made of clay. Her face is turned away from us. I don’t wanna see it.
Avery lifts herself from the ground beside me, rubbing the back of her head. “What was that?” she mumbles before looking around the cabin. Her mouth falls open as she takes it all in.
I try to answer, but nothing comes out. My voice has disappeared. I wish my body could do the same.
One moment we were speeding along the track. Then, shortly after the Fringers threw their rocks, the Chute went crazy. I tried to buckle my seat belt, but before I knew it the entire cabin flipped over on its side and everyone fell to the window like rag dolls.
Two times in one day.
Two times in one day, we’ve crashed. The first one was expected-controlled, even. This wasn’t, which makes it a thousand times more horrifying.
People start to scream as they realize what’s happened. Avery and I stay quiet. The ceiling lights to our side flicker on and off, then off completely. A horrible choking stench flows into the cabin. It takes me a second to realize it’s smoke. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I notice a faint light flickering from somewhere outside.
Fire. The Chute’s on fire.
“You okay?” Avery asks.
“We gotta get out of here. There’s a fire.”
“What about Cassius?”
“Isn’t time.” I crane my neck up to the ceiling-the right-side windows now framing the stars overhead. The circular entrance door lies slightly ajar, busted open from the force of the crash. Getting to it might be a problem, but it’s our only way out. The firelight advances in the distance.
Avery lays her hand on my shoulder. “Over and out?”
I nod, wondering exactly how we’re gonna get up there.
But Avery’s on it, pulling herself up onto the armrest of the nearest seat and standing across what used to be the center aisle. Pressed against the flooring, she grabs onto the next closest armrest and uses it to pull herself into the top row of seats. She crouches for a moment before making the final push.
I look up at her, perched in the sideways chair like she’s climbing a tree. This is going to be much harder than she just made it look. It’s like doing pull-ups, and I hate doing pull-ups. Can’t do more than ten. Luckily I’ve only gotta do two to get up and out of the car. Come on, arms. Don’t wimp out on me now.
Before I totally psych myself out, I move to the nearest seat and grab onto the armrest a few feet above my head.
Then I pull mass hard, trying to pretend like this is just another skill test. My muscles strain as I press my feet against the bottom armrest and launch myself upward.
After clearing the first pair of seats, I yank myself over the aisle and into the final top seats. Avery bends down and grabs the edge of the opening, letting her body go limp until she’s hanging in the air directly below the doorway. I sit on the armrest and watch her pull herself up onto the side of the train. Seconds later, she spins around and drops her arms through the opening.
“Just like climbing up into the vent,” she smiles down like the most beautiful monkey I’ve ever seen.
I flash a worried smile and grab onto her waiting hands, pressing my feet against the back of the seat so I can push out.
With Avery’s help, I lift myself out from the cabin and into the steaming-hot night air.
We stand on the curved siding of the Chute, careful not to slip. I look to the right: nothing but zigzagging train cars stretching on into the darkness. Then I turn around and see the flames spreading from the back. The very last car stands attached to the track, though just barely.
The Good Samaritan in me screams to head back down into the car and help some of the other passengers, but then I remember that Avery and I are fugitives, that we stole this ride. The longer we stay here, the greater chance the government will find us. Or maybe even Cassius. Avery steps to the edge of the car, sitting with her legs hanging over the side.
I move to join her. “What now?”
“We can’t stay here, obviously.”
I nod. “There was a Fringe Town a ways back.”
She shakes her head. “They’re hostile. We’ll head in the opposite direction. Northwest.”
I stare into the unknown. Shadowy rock formations jut out in the distance. Maybe they’re not rocks at all. “It’s dark. We’ll get lost out there.”
Avery pushes herself from the train, landing with a thud on the dusty ground below. “The stars, Jesse. You’ve seen ’em enough. They’re just a little farther away, that’s all.”
I follow, landing in an undignified heap beside her. My ankles rattle with a buzzing pain.
“I know the Surface,” she continues, “ever since I was a little girl. I know what to do if we get lost.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the night. Even with the fire behind us, the darkness swallows us quickly.
After a minute of running, we stop and turn to survey the wreckage. The fire’s gobbled up a quarter of the Chute already, but it doesn’t seem so threatening all of a sudden, like it’s not even real. I feel a pang of guilt as we turn and walk away. The emergency fire systems are probably starting to kick in. It won’t be long until the flames are put out completely and a government squad is summoned. We made the right choice.
“Keep your eyes peeled for lights,” Avery says.
I shake my head. “I wasn’t serious about heading into a Fringe Town, you know.”
“I know, but we need a place to sleep. Windstorms are common in this area. Towns will have shelter.”
“They’ll also have Fringers,” I reply. “Or have you forgotten that fun little mark on the side of my face a few days ago?”
“We’ll pretend we’re one of them,” she says, climbing up a gentle hill. “We’re certainly filthy enough.”
“Nomads,” I suggest.
She nods.
“And we’re… we’re desperate for water and shelter for the night,” I continue, “and we’ll be gone by morning.”
“ If we run into trouble,” she says. “Most of these towns are deserted.”
“I’ve heard that one before.” I pause. “Avery?”
She turns, looking at me. “What is it?”
“You were serious back in Portland, right? About being on my side?”
She stumbles forward, grabbing me up in her arms and hugging me. This time I hug her back.
“I’ve never been so serious about something in my life,” she whispers. “Look at all we’ve survived so far. I’m not letting you down, Jesse.”
I rest my head on her shoulder, hands pressed against her back. “I think I believe you.”
She lets go, stepping away. “We need to get as far away from the Chute as possible.” She scans the flat expanse around us, pointing. “That way.”
I nod and we take off through the darkness, guided by little more than the moonlight.
32
Cassius regained consciousness just as the flame retardant foam began to blanket the inside of the cabin. It wasn’t going to help anyone around him. They’d been burned to a crisp long before the system switched on. The car itself was reduced to a metal shell, heated up until it stung to touch it.
Unlike everything around him, Cassius wasn’t burned. He lay in the middle of a bed of flames, but they passed through him, ignoring his tender skin. His senses were alert, his mind sharp and refreshed. If his insides weren’t all raw and bruised, he’d think he had suddenly become invincible. It was the most painful form of invincibility he could imagine.
He pulled himself from the bathroom floor, searching for clothing to cover his naked body before heading out into the night. Most everything had already been mutilated by fire. Retardant foam buried what managed to survive.
He paused a moment to stare at the bodies-the blue-haired girl lying still in the corner, the businessman crumpled in a heap below his chair. The force of the explosion had killed most of them before the flames could do anything.
He had done this. Whether he had meant to or not didn’t make any difference. This wasn’t a killing in the name of the Unified Party. This wasn’t part of a mission. This was a massacre.
Glancing around the cabin, he found a body lying in the corner of the room least ravaged by the fire. Like all the others, the man was dead, but the foam had reached him before the fire had a chance to completely destroy his body. Most of his clothing remained intact, despite many scuffs and burn marks.
Cassius began the unpleasant job of stripping off the man’s jeans and pulling them over his own legs. They were much too loose, but he was able to tighten the belt to an acceptable length. With great difficulty, he yanked off the man’s shirt, tearing it at the shoulder as he tried to work it around the guy’s limp arms. It was horrifying work, pulling the clothes off a dead body, but he didn’t have any other choice. The guy was already gone. Cassius needed it more than he did.
Stumbling into the night air, he turned to survey the wreckage he had caused. The train cars curved into the darkness beyond him. As he stared at the fallen Chute, his frustration with Madame began to turn to doubt. Twice now this had happened, and she knew why. Yet she wouldn’t tell him. Not without a price. Not without Fisher.
It was a game. They were pinballs, him and Fisher. Pinballs filled with gun powder. The more they ran into each other, the worse things got. And she didn’t seem to care.
He wiped tears from his eyes and allowed himself to break down for a moment. He wasn’t a killer, not like this. Not when it was a Chute full of innocent people just trying to get from one city to another.
After giving in to his emotions, he regained control of his breathing and realized that he had to go on, not only to prove that he could do it, but also because he had to know.
He had to know what was happening to him, who his parents were, and what Jesse Fisher had to do with it.
But he didn’t need Madame’s help anymore. Now he was going to do it his way. His com-pad was lost in the fire, his link with Madame gone. He was going to find Fisher, and he was going to find answers. With or without her.
And if he had to set the whole world on fire to find out what was wrong with him, then so be it.
33
Dawn.
After walking for hours last night, we took refuge in a chewed-up fortress at a broken-down playground on the edge of the nearest Fringe Town. Sleeping in a park???classy. Avery and I took turns keeping guard, on constant lookout for any movement. There was nothing all night; most Fringers have migrated to the uninfected parts of the coast. Landlocked’s the worst. Landlocked will kill you.
As the sun starts to heat our little play castle to triple-digit level, we wipe the sleep from our eyes and step down the hot metal ladder to the brown grass below. My empty stomach rumbles. My throat’s about as dry as the environment out here. I’d pay a million dollars for a glass of water.
“Keep an eye out,” Avery warns as we exit the tiny park and step along a cracked-up street on our way to the center of town.
My feet drag. If I don’t get some fluids in me soon this march to Seattle is gonna be over before it starts. “How’s your headache?”
“Down to a dull throb,” she replies. “Don’t worry. I can manage it.”
I nod. “Tell me why we’re heading into a Fringe Town again?”
She avoids a wide crack in the pavement, leaping over to the other side. “Water, food. You know, things we kinda need to survive.”
A hot gust of wind shoves my face as I walk into it. Waves of dust swirl around in the air. I swallow mouthfuls of sandy air. It’s impossible not to.
We walk by lines of old-fashioned homesteads, boarded up and beaten to the ground. In another time, this place could have been one of those picket-fence-type neighborhoods people write poems about. The trees are leafless-dark, decaying silhouettes on an ever-flat background. Weeds survive, a darker shade of brown than the grass. I’ve heard that areas like this were hardest hit after the government cut power because they were already borderline-desert before the bombings.
So far, it’s all empty and silent. Score one for us, because in addition to traveling through a dangerous Fringe Town, we’ve still got Cassius to worry about.
Avery kicks at a dirt clod as we continue down the center of the vacant, pothole-ridden road. “Makes you miss the comforts of a Security Center jail cell, huh? It’s like the Old West.”
“The Old, Old West,” I reply, shirt sticking to my body with sweat. “Are we even close to Seattle?”
“Depends on what you mean by close.” She points at the pavement behind my feet. “Ooh, watch it.”
I turn around to see a snake slither across the roadway, inches from my heel. I jump forward, keeping my eye on the brown creature as it hisses past. “Oh god, I thought those things were only in movies!”
Avery watches it disappear into a crack in the pavement. “It’s gone.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes. I keep my eyes on the ground, cautious of any more creatures we might stumble across.
Once the coast is clear, I glance at Avery. “So I’ve been wondering. If you weren’t born on a Skyship, where were you born?”
“Don’t know,” she replies.
“Look, I wasn’t lying about being an orphan. I’ve never met my parents. They’re probably dead.”
“Where did you live before the Academy, then?”
“The Lodge.”
“ The Lodge? Like, Pearlhound central?”
She nods. “Madame picked me up from the workhouses when I was little-five years old, I think. She tried to pretend she was my mother, at least for a little while.”
“And then she just sent you away to spy on us?”
Avery sighs. “You don’t see it as a child. You’re so glad to have someone act like they care. But as I got older, I realized what she really was. She wasn’t my mother. She was using me, and I’m not the only one.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Yeah, but think about it. She’s got this idea that the Unified Party needs to strike against the Skyships… that she and she alone recognizes a threat that nobody else does. Rather than go through official lines and risk humiliating herself, she picks up these kids… gains their trust so they’d do anything for her. And then she uses us to gain information… to build her case.” She shakes her head. “She’s really done a number on Cassius, that’s for sure.”
“Wait.” I grab her arm, stopping her. “Did you know Cassius? I mean, before… ”
She shrugs. “I’ve seen him. I don’t think he knows me, though. By the time he was old enough to remember, I was sneaking away from that place as much as possible. Besides, Madame likes to keep her ‘children’ separate. She really took an interest in him, though. Enough to send me away.”
“That’s why she sent you to the Academy? To get rid of you?”
“Don’t know for sure,” she replies. “But I was happy for the opportunity. That place is sick, Jesse. She’s sick-wracked with guilt from the government’s reaction to the bombings. By the time I arrived at the Academy, I was done with it all. To tell you the truth, I was planning to book it on outta there a couple of months after I arrived