by C. G Harris
“I couldn’t ...”
“You need a way out, and you need it now. That little nugget you gave me is deadlier than riding out a Hellfire storm in your tightywhities. Do not tell anyone else.” I peered into Jonny’s eyes and fixed him with a serious stare. “No one hears that information, understand?”
Jonny nodded. “All right, but what does it mea—”
I jerked him in close to me as I shook my head. “If they find out you have that information, Hell will get a lot worse than the Wax Worx for you. Do what you do best. Disappear and don’t come back.”
Jonny looked more than a little shaken now. Good. I hoped being shaken would keep his mouth shut and have him hightailing it out of town without looking back.
He took hold of the other handlebar and looked up at me. “You’re a good friend, Gabe. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I let go of my rusted little beauty and gave her one last look. She had been a wonderful gift from a girl who, in some ways, didn’t exist anymore. I just hoped the one who now stood in her place would understand why I had let it go.
“This is a loan.” Jonny threw his leg over the Vespa and sat on the seat. “I will bring her back to you someday. I promise.”
I nodded. “Take care, and thanks for all your help over the years.”
Jonny laughed. “All I did was talk. You’re the one who does all the helping.”
“Be good, and I’ll see you around.” I smiled and waved.
With that, Jonny started the Rusty Rocket. It roared to life like a lawnmower in a rock garden, then in a cloud of thick, acrid smoke, it, and Jonny, left The Nine for good.
Chapter Thirty-One
My walk back to the shop gave me plenty of time to ponder my decision to give up my only mode of transportation. I forgot how far The Judas Agency’s spiraled headquarters was from my ramshackle home. By the time I got there, my feet had mounted an all-out revolt, refusing to carry me another inch. My injured arm and leg were not happy about the decision either.
Nothing to be done about it now. At least Jonny would be safe. Maybe I would get in shape. Take the opportunity to jog to work in the mornings. The thought of me prancing through The Nine in a powder blue sweat suit made me laugh. Jogging here would be like parading a rabbit in front of a greyhound. I would get my exercise all right. There were things down here that viewed running as nothing more than a dinner bell. I was not about to be anyone’s rump roast.
The windows to the shop were still open when I got there, and Zoe stood inside chatting with Jazzy and Meg. They all giggled and laughed as if they were ready for a night on the town. I waved as I came up on them, and Zoe waved back. She smiled at first, but then my lack of motorized transport dawned on her and confusion crossed her face.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just ran into a little snag on my way home, that’s all.”
“Did someone finally bait and trap that industrial coal burner of yours?” Meg shot me a grin. Despite her overuse of crimson hair dye, she was an anti-pollution, always recycle everything Nazi—even in The Nine. She hated the Rusty Rocket and gave me a hard time every chance she got.
“A dear friend gave me that scooter as a gift. One of the nicest things anyone ever did for me.”
“So, what happened to this incredible act of kindness?” Zoe eyed me, suspicion growing in her face. “I would hate to think you squandered a gesture from someone who means so much to you.” She stepped forward and got right in my face. “That person might get their feelings hurt and act out in unhealthy ways.”
“To clarify,” I cleared my throat, “you mean unhealthy to me, not you, right?”
Zoe gave me a tight-lipped smile and nodded.
“Right. Well, have you ever heard the expression, pay it forward?”
“I knew it. You gave the Vespa away, didn’t you? Some sob story hit you with a face full of tears, and that’s all it took.”
“Easy.” I laughed and stepped back. “It wasn’t just any sob story; it was Jonny. He needed a way out of town and quick. My cousins put two and two together and figured out he was the squeaky wheel after our little visit, and they’re looking to silence him for good. I gave him the Rocket as a getaway.”
Zoe glanced down, seeming to consider and then nodded. “Do you think he made it out?”
I shrugged. “Last I saw, he was headed out in a blaze of smog and glory.”
Meg huffed.
“Jonny knows how to disappear. The Rocket will get him away, and then he’ll be fine.”
“So now you’re on foot like the rest of us slobs?” Jazzy gave me a little poke in the belly. “A little exercise will do you good.”
“Walking back and forth to the agency will bring more exercise and excitement than I want, especially if I wind up walking back and forth in the dark. I may have to start carrying the Whip Crack with me.”
Mentioning the weapon seemed to rattle a sense of unease among the three which raised some suspicion in me.
“Whatever happened to that thing anyway?” Jazzy asked. “Did you get it fixed?”
I eyed the three of them for a second, but they just stared back at me, waiting for an answer.
“The blades were tangled up pretty bad. Alex has a connection at the Agency looking at it. I hope he’ll be able to fix it for us.”
“Any idea how long they might take?” Meg offered a gleaming white smile that looked way too friendly to be genuine.
“What are you all up to?”
Before I could finish, Zoe hurried out of the shop and grabbed my arm. She pulled me along the side until we got to a tangled alcove hidden in the web work of built and rebuilt structures.
“I just thought of something.” She pulled away an old box spring and a bunch of loose metal, then reached into the alcove and jerked at a long piece of tubing. “I’ve had this in here for a while, but I can’t use it with Meg and Jazzy with me all the time.”
The tubing came free, and she handed it to me. “Well, I can see why. This isn’t much use to anyone.”
She peered back at me and let out an exasperated sigh. “Not that! This.”
I stared, speechless, as she rolled it out. “Is that—a tricycle?”
Zoe smiled. “Yeah. Well, technically. I mean it’s made for a grown up, not a kid.”
I continued to stare at the overgrown toddler toy, unsure how to react. All three wheels looked warped, and the frame was rusted enough to work as a cheese grater. At least the oversized tot-transporter had a seat—or the metal plate that used to be a seat. All the padding and leather upholstery had long since rotted away.
Meg and Jazzy ambled up behind me and stared at Zoe like she had pulled out a turd sandwich and told them to take a bite.
“You aren’t going to ride that thing, are you?” I thought Meg might try to tackle Zoe if she tried to mount the thing.
“I’m not going to ride it.” Zoe pointed to me. “Gabe is.”
Meg and Jazzy laughed in unison while I stared at Zoe, not sure what to say.
“What? It’s better than walking.” She started to shove everything back into the cubby again. “Fine, if you don’t want it ...”
I reached out to grab her arm. “Hold on. Don’t listen to them. This is great.”
The wheels emitted an ear bleeding squeal as I pulled her hand away and rolled the tricycle backward. I tried not to wince.
“You always come through for me.” I went over and put my hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”
Zoe looked up at Jazzy and Meg, and they both looked back at her.
“Funny you should say that.” Zoe turned her gaze to me, and I could feel the other two turn their eyes on me as well. All of a sudden, this gift felt more like the meat in the middle of a big bear trap.
“We were wondering if you could help us with a plan we’ve come up with. Meg, Jazzy, and I are going back to the Skin Quarries. We’re going to break in, free all the Freshborns, and burn the place to the ground.�
�
Chapter Thirty-Two
“That’s why you were so interested in the Whip Crack. You wanted to hijack it for your crusade.”
My words came out much harsher than intended, but news of the potential rogue Judas Agent, Johnny’s trouble with my cousins, the Catastropher, and my inability to figure out what in Stalin’s toybox was going on with Nick’s company made this the spark to light the funeral pyre.
“How many times are we going to go through this? We are not going to war with my cousins.”
“Not unless they bruise your ego by stealing something you own?” Zoe crossed her arms and glared at me.
That was a low blow, but she was right. I had stacked that locket up against every Woebegone soul in that warehouse and turned my back on the whole lot of them. Even knowing the locket’s potential, was it worth all that? I wasn’t sure.
“You almost died for that necklace. We almost died with you.” Zoe motioned to Meg and Jazzy. They had their eyes to the ground, refusing to meet either of our gazes.
“I didn’t ask you to come with me. You volunteered, and then you brought Meg and Jazz into it. Don’t put all that on me.”
“You’re right.” She held her hands up. “But you saw the souls your cousins have caged up in that warehouse. How can you ignore them? How can you live out here in your ivory tower knowing they are in there being tortured, raped, murdered day in and day out? They are suffering unimaginable crimes that the three of us remember all too well.”
I remained silent for a minute, breathing in and out, staring at the barren charred earth at my feet. When I did look up to meet Zoe’s eyes, she still stared at me, determined as ever, hands clenched into fists of vengeful rage.
“Suicide.” The single word came out like a shot. “Not just for you. Not just for Meg and Jazzy. It is suicide for anyone in their path. You think freeing Woebegones will stop them? The sulfur pools are full of Freshborns. They will restock in a matter of days. Then what? And what do you plan to do with all the Woebegone you free? Stack them in the bus behind the shop until they regain their memories? There are hundreds of souls in that warehouse. All you’re going to do is call a war down on anyone you love or care about. Go in there on your crusade, and my cousins will not stop until you, and everyone you know, are chained up on display with all the nameless Woebegone you care so much about. Say what you want about me. At least I’m trying to protect those close to me. I’m smart enough to know saving every soul in Hell is impossible. I try to save the ones I can.”
Zoe’s hands relaxed, and her shoulders fell to a position of defeat. The sight of it made me want to throw reason aside and join her cause. Her eyes were the worst. They held the same determination as always, but somehow, I read betrayal there. That alone was enough to squelch my anger and rekindle it at the same time.
“It wasn’t so long ago that the three of us were a part of those nameless Woebegone.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, then she turned and walked away. Not toward the shop or anywhere familiar, just away. I watched her go, head down, never looking back.
Meg and Jazzy watched her too. They stood next to me not saying a word. The weight of their presence was enough to crush me.
“Can either of you talk some sense into her?”
The two of them kept their gaze fixed on Zoe, then Meg sighed. “She looks up to you. Thinks you can do no wrong, but you may have burst that bubble for her tonight. Me, Jazzy, Zoe—we are the Freshborn in those cages. That’s what you need to understand. In her eyes, every time you refuse to save them, it’s like you’re saying she wasn’t worth saving either.”
“Don’t worry.” Jazzy started walking before Zoe could disappear from sight. “We’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything too stupid.” She glanced back at me and shot me a grin before breaking into a jog to head off.
Meg put a hand on my shoulder. “Zoe loves you, believe me. You just need to figure out how to find some sort of common ground on this whole thing.” With that, she hurried off after Jazzy, both of them disappearing into the crowd of Woebegone on the wreckage strewn street.
“That’s the problem.” I said to myself as I turned to head back to the shop, pulling my squeaky tricycle with me. “Common ground is getting harder and harder to find.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
I pulled up to the Judas Agency tired, sweaty, and panting. My legs burned, my butt had been violated in the ways of nightmares, thanks to the metal tricycle seat, and I was pretty sure I was now the laughingstock of every Woebegone this side of Scrapyard City. My new ride was less than impeccable. The wide, three-wheeled stance made it almost impossible to navigate the minefields of road debris. The tires rubbed, the rims were warped, and the chain slipped every time I put too much muscle to the pedal. The only endearing quality to the welded wad of torture was that it was a gift from Zoe. Yes, it moved me from point A to B faster than walking, but the tradeoff was like cashing in a stroll down a grassy hill for a ride in an old tire filled with rocks. Sure, you’d get to the bottom faster, but the brain damage wasn’t worth the trip.
I hopped off the sadistic butt abuser and tried to find a place where I could hide the adult-sized toddler mobile. A bout of musical giggles told me I was too late.
“And I thought a Vespa was emasculating.” Alex rounded the corner of the building with a smile that said she had already teed up a whole library of fun quips and insults. I could hardly wait.
“It was a gift.”
Yeah, that would stop her.
“A gift from who? Chuckles the clown? I didn’t know they made tricycles that size.”
“I guess they’re used as a way to haul tools and equipment around on airfields. That’s what the basket is for.”
I motioned to the wire framed tetanus carrier nestled between the two rear tires and wished my mouth would stop making things worse for the rest of us.
“Wow, that is nice. I’ll bet you could fit a whole platoon of G.I. Joes in that baby. But you want to put a Barbie or two in for good measure. Gotta keep the troops happy you know.” She winked at me.
“Whoa.” I shot her a look. “That’s a little dark, even for you.”
Alex smirked. “We’re in Hell. I get to be dark every once in a while. So, what happened to your Wrinkly Rhino or whatever you called it?”
“Rusty Rocket.” I annunciated the words even though I knew she was aware of the little Vespa’s name. “We had to part ways, temporarily, at least. Someone needed it a lot more than I did.”
Alex eyed the tricycle and chuckled. “They must have needed it pretty bad.”
I smiled and thought of Jonny making his smooth, smoggy getaway. “He did. It was worth every circus bear and clown joke you can throw at me.”
“Not fair. You can’t take material away from me like that.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll try not to make any more comedic references before you have a chance to hurl them at my head.”
“It’s only good manners. Even a clown knows that.” She gave a “duh” look.
“Still worked.”
“I thought so. Why don’t you push your Creaky Crawler next to the wall over there so we can go in and get ready to go?”
I did as she said, making sure to guide the trike far out of the way. It may be a heap of angle iron and bent in all the wrong places, but I didn’t want sticky fingers finding it either.
I walked back toward her. “Ready to go where?”
“Sabnack sent me a note. We are to report to his office then head Topside. I assume we’re making good on our delivery boy personas again.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s delivery person, thank you very much.”
Alex rolled her eyes and started walking. “Whatever, let’s go.”
I grinned and turned to follow behind her at the exact moment the coin in my pocket buzzed like an angry hornet. All of a sudden, I remembered the page I had received yesterday. With our sparring session and ... well, the close encounter at the end … plus th
e news from Jonny, I forgot about going to see Judas.
“What are you doing?”
I realized I just stood there, staring at nothing. “What? Uh, you go on ahead, I have an errand to run real—”
“Oh no.” Alex marched back and grabbed my arm. “No side trips, no errands, no favors. We have a job to do, and we are going to go do it right now.”
“But ...” My brain reeled for an excuse that would hold her off, but nothing came to mind. In the end, I had no choice.
Ignoring Judas’s page for a second time seemed tantamount to suicide, but there was nothing else I could do. Alex was right. I had a job to do. I had to go do it. Even if that meant laying my head on a chopping block next time Judas set eyes on me.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Where are we? I can’t see my hand in front of my face.” I waved my hands and kicked my legs out, trying to contact anything that might give me a clue as to where we’d landed this time. “I pictured the old, abandoned warehouse like you told me.” My foot connected with something solid.
“Ouch. Will you quit that?” Somehow Alex managed to backhand my chest even in the pitch blackness. “I haven’t used this landing point for a while. Maybe the lights are off or something.”
I stopped moving and faced where I thought she should be in the dark. “Maybe the lights are off? As opposed to what? We forgot to bring our eyeballs? Of course, the lights are off. Let’s just move in the same direction and find an outside wall. I swear, if I hear a turkey gobble ...”
For a moment Alex didn’t say anything at all, then her voice came from a whole different direction behind me. “I should leave you and your eyeballs here in the dark by yourself.”
I started to say something when a noise caught my attention. A shuffle or the sound of something being dragged across the floor. It only lasted a second, but it was there. Alex must have heard the noise too. She was no longer lurking out in the darkness. The moment the rustling sound hit my ears, Alex clamped onto my shoulder and then put her back to mine. She was ready for a fight and that put every single nerve in my body on edge.