Too tired to summon the energy to deal with this, I shrink in my chair under Andy’s withering gaze. As I sneak a peek at Decker, he smirks at me as if he’s pleased with the turn.
“We haven’t met,” I say with a small wave, thinking it might smooth thing overs if I got up to shake his hand, I push myself upright in preparation to stand. The sudden hardening in Andy’s eyes stops me from making the effort. Something in his look screams we are not now nor will we ever be friends. I stay still and accept this encounter will not be pleasant.
“Is there a problem, Andy?” Jerome’s voice is very level as he casually picks up his cup and takes a sip, without looking at the short man.
“A problem?” Andy’s voice takes on a slightly hysterical note.
As my eyes meet Decker’s, his face takes on a studied look of indifference. I glance over at Kate to find the same carefully neutral expression.
“We’ve been shot at.” Andy voice cracks a bit, as he grinds the words out. “Of course, that’s a problem and it’s her fault. We all know that.”
“If we all know that then there’s no reason to discuss it,” Jerome says in a reasonable tone as Brent walks into the room with a steaming cup in one hand and a chart in the other. Brent’s eyes dart around the room for a moment, taking in the situation before he looks at Jerome. With a shrug, Brent walks over to pull out a chair beside Jerome. Setting down his cup, Brent spreads the chart out on the table so Jerome can look at it.
I glance back at Andy and see him dithering from one foot to the other. The anger hasn’t left his face and he looks like he’s about to swallow his own tongue. Jerome stares at the map but I can tell that he is very aware of Andy’s behaviour. Just as Andy’s about to boil over, Jerome speaks.
“I am curious about why this is happening.” Jerome’s words make everyone turn to stare at the city guys.
Chapter 22
“So am I,” I say as I turn to regard Jonathon and his friends.
Jonathon gives an angry shake of the head as he says, “I already told you.”
“I didn’t steal anything from you,” I insist but stop as I see a strange look cross Paul’s face. “What do you know?”
Paul twitches at my inquiry but doesn’t meet my eyes for a moment. Something changes in his demeanor, a subtle shift, and he smiles. Looking up, his gaze reveals something hard as he says, “You didn’t steal it. Jennifer slipped it into your bag while you were out of the room.”
“Why the fuck would she do that?” Jonathon demands as he jumps to his feet.
“Who knows,” Paul shrugs, staring at the floor but I can see he looks quietly pleased.
“I think another question is why the fuck didn’t you tell us what she did?” Adam’s calm tone sounds oddly threatening.
“Because I thought it would be safer with her,” Paul replies, twisting to peer at Adam.
“With me? Why?” I demand.
“Because you were returning to the surface.” Paul explains with exaggerated impatience. “Because I didn’t think they could follow you there.”
“Of course they can follow her,” Andy’s shrill voice cuts in. “They probably have a way of tracking whatever you’re talking about.”
“No,” Adam’s measured tone contrasts sharply with Andy’s shrieking. “I don’t see how they can track us.”
Andy screams abuse at Adam as he advances on the city people but Jerome stands up, placing himself between Andy and his prey. Holding up a hand, Jerome says, “Stop, they’re from the city. They don’t know.”
Jerome glances at Brent, clearly indicating he should be the one to explain. Sitting forward, Brent looks at each of the city guys in turn, “Tracking a device on the surface is a simple thing for us to do. We don’t need wires the way you do underground.”
Paul looks sceptical but Adam and Jonathon appear to accept Brent’s statement. Sighing, I say, “Paul, from what I can tell, it’s easier for them to track the device up here. You’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Well whatever it is, it must still be in my bag.” I comment, scanning the area for my backpack.
Jonathon reaches around behind the couch and lifts my backpack up. Settling it on his lap, he starts to rummages through it.
“Hey!” I call out, jumping to my feet and grabbing my backpack out of his hands. Peering inside, I push stuff around until I realize I have two chargers. A quick examination and I pull out the device I think Jonathon wanted. The second charger is a little different from my own but the differences aren’t important; they’re just small cosmetic changes.
“That is what they’re after,” Jonathon announces as he points to the device in my hand, a look of awe on his face as if he’s seeing the Mona Lisa.
“That can’t be the reason,” Brent refutes. “We’ve all got those. They’re a dime a dozen on the surface.”
“No,” Adam says in his calm tone. “That is a huge discovery. You can wind it and it charges batteries.”
Silence fills the room as everyone in the crew exchange glances and then burst out laughing. The city guys look discombobulated as the laughter continues.
Brent smiles gently, “It’s a simple dynamo device. The technology has been around for centuries. We’ve all got one.”
Jonathon stares at me, the look on his face indicating that he doesn’t believe we understand the gravity of the situation. Pulling out my own charger, I hold it out to Jonathon. A stunned look settles on his face as he slowly takes the device out of my hand.
“How?” he whispers.
I shrug, “The real question is why are they after you?”
“No, it’s the device.” Adam insists. “Maybe it’s old to you but it’s new to us.”
Jerome shakes his head, “We trade with the cities all the time. They know about those.”
Chapter 23
Quiet. A creak from one of the tie-down lines as the ship shifts slightly in its moorings. Silence. A small ping on the radar indicates an animal nearby. I spread my hands flat against the surface of the table and stare at the device. A door opens and closes. Silence. Another door opens and I hear a murmured voice say something too low for me to make out. A door closes and there’s silence once again.
The fight about whether or not the dynamo was the reason we were being pursued raged on for at least an hour, until the pilot announced we were approaching our tie-up point, which sent the crew into a flurry of activity. Once we were tied down, quiet descended on the ship. Everyone dispersed to their cabins, including the city guys who were assigned the passenger quarters. Now, with everyone sleeping or pretending to sleep, the silence on the ship feels like a vacation.
I sit back, dragging my hands across the smooth surface of the table. I get up and switch on the kettle. Turning to face the table, I lean against the counter while I wait for the water to boil. My mind stays blank. Fatigue pulls at my body but I know I can’t sleep. Although I’m not consciously thinking about anything, the back of my mind is buzzing with theories. I desperately want to shut down my brain and sleep but the noise just won’t allow it.
The kettle whistles and I quickly open the valve to stop the squeal. I pop a mug out of its slot and set it on the counter as I search for a tea bag.
“Why don’t you make a pot?” Jerome’s voice makes me jump out of my skin. I turn to look at him and he smiles an apology. Stepping up beside me, he pulls out a teapot and quickly finishes the task for me while my mind seems to take a little vacation without me.
“Rachael,” Jerome’s voice floats softly on the air, calling my mind back to the moment.
I meet his eyes but we don’t speak. Finally, Jerome looks away to gather up the teapot and mugs. Watching him as he walks to the table, I feel a surge of guilt run through me. Slowly, I push myself off the counter and cross the floor to the table. I slide onto the seat opposite him as he arranges the mugs. The device sits between us like an unpleasant job, something that needs to be dealt with but we’re reluctant to get started.
A creak from one of the tie-downs is the only sound in the room. I sit back in my chair unable to take my eyes off the device. My hand falls to the gun on my hip. As I touch the cold metal, I realize I’m doing the one thing I swore I would never do again.
“I know you hate guns,” Jerome says softly as he sits forward to lift the teapot and pour our drinks.
My hand falls away from the gun as I peer into his eyes, trying to determine what made him say that. After a moment, I decide he just knows me well enough to guess at my mood.
As Jerome hands me my tea, he asks, “Why do you think Otto sent them here?”
I shake my head, “I have no idea.”
“You think Otto knows something we don’t?” Jerome asks intently.
“Otto always knows something we don’t,” I reply.
Jerome peers into his mug as if the answers are hidden in the murky depths. I concentrate on those few rushed moments with Otto in the library as he gave instructions for me to leave and take the city guys with me.
“Maybe he just wanted them out of the town,” I say slowly. “Maybe he thought our attackers would stop once those city guys were out of reach.”
“Maybe,” Jerome agrees. “Or maybe something else is going on. I assume you tried to call Otto.”
“I tried calling everyone back home,” I respond as I push away my emotions. “I also tried my flexi but… nothing.”
Jerome folds his arms on the table and leans across it. “It isn’t that thing.”
I glance at the device, “No, that can’t be it.”
“So, it must be something else,” Jerome’s voice takes on an intensity I’ve rarely heard from him. “Maybe something on one of the guys.”
“Maybe,” I agree in a non-committal way as I pick up the device. “The second question is how did they find us? Brent swept the guys and this thing for bugs; everything’s clean so how did they follow us?”
“That was just a patrol, wasn’t it?” Jerome lowers his voice.
I shake my head, “No, it was the same guys who attacked us back in town so they followed us somehow.”
“Fuck,” Jerome mutters, the profanity sounding almost comical coming from him.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Do you think they can follow us here?” he asks.
“It’s probably safest to assume they can,” I nod. “But there are no doors near us so they would have to trek over land. I don’t think they’ll do that at night.”
“True,” Jerome agrees with a grim expression on his face. “We’ll leave as soon as it’s light out.”
“That will help for a while,” I say as I heft the device in my hand. “We have to decide how far we fly together on this one.”
A look of disbelief crosses Jerome’s face. It’s quickly replaced by a look of anger as he grabs my hand, “We won’t leave you to fight alone.”
My eyes drops to his hand holding mine, “This is big. Whatever it is, it’s big. I don’t want to ask anything.” Smiling, I look up at Jerome. “I’m pretty sure Andy would disagree.”
Returning my grin, Jerome lets go of my hand and sits back, “I’ll let anyone who wants off at the next port.”
“Jerome…” I begin.
“No,” he waves a hand. “I won’t leave you to figure this out on your own. It’s my ship, I’ll decide.”
“We can’t fly around forever,” I respond.
“No,” he nods. “But we can fly around for a while, until we can figure some things out.” He pauses as he glances toward the crew quarters. Jabbing a thumb in their direction, he asks, “Do you believe them?”
“I believe Adam and Jonathon,” I tell him.
“But not the other one?” Jerome’s eyes narrow.
“Him,” I shrug. “I don’t know. There’s something but I don’t know what it is.”
“Smell?” he asks. Jerome is one of the few people who know about my other ability.
“Maybe,” I look out the windows. “Smell is just not reliable. And sometimes I can’t figure out what it means.”
“So, which is it with him?” Jerome probes.
My eyes swing back to gaze at him, “Both.”
“Fuck,” Jerome mutters again. It is so odd to hear him swear, especially when it’s so heartfelt.
“One thing is for sure,” I lift up the device to study it as I turn it over in my hands. “Whatever is going on, this isn’t it.”
Tales From The Underground: 3 The Dirgible Page 3