by Y A Marks
When my stomach grumbled, I filled up on hamburgers, hot dogs, gyros, tacos, jerk chicken, pizza, and a side salad because I was watching my figure. Sure, I didn’t eat all of it, but I had two bites of everything. It was hot and fresh without mold or ants that I had to flick off. There were no tainted tastes or spoiled pieces. Everything was like it should be. It was wonderful.
The food I received with my lodging at the Stadium was less than food. It was something that was edible and nothing more. Here, the food had flavor and richness. In fact, it was so rich I found myself behind the plaza twenty minutes later, decorating the bushes with it.
After the pain in my stomach subsided, I laughed. A long, genuine laugh, like I had never heard come from my mouth before. I didn’t even know who I was. I was possessed with a raw passion for life. Thirty days before, I might have done what Sarah Graham told me and thrown myself off that bridge, crushing my skull. However, that day at the Perimeter Market, I was alive and had tasted just a piece of what life had to offer.
A twig or maybe a candy wrapper crackled behind me.
“Hey.” A strange voice stirred my ears. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”
My skin broke out in goose pimples. My muscles numbed. Had the police noticed me? How was I going to explain all this stuff I just purchased? What was I going to do?
CHAPTER 8
I jumped up and dusted myself off. Tight fists knotted the shopping bags. My eyes twisted in my head sending my gaze over the small alley. Living in the Meadows, I always had to be on guard. Slowly, I spun around.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
Before me was a normal looking woman in her mid-forties. She was slightly taller than me, maybe five-six with dark brown hair that appeared like it had been colored a few months before to be chestnut. She didn’t have a cigarette, but the way she rubbed her thumb over her fingers told me she was used to holding something in her hand. Her eyebrows were thinly cut and danced above her deep-set eyes.
“My name’s Dhyla. And you are?”
My heart stilled. My tongue fought against my mind. I didn’t know this person. I didn’t really know anybody except for Ms. Cooper. Fear slid up my legs and into my spine. Distant streets screamed for me to run to them.
“You know, it’s rude to not talk to folks when they’re talking to ya,” she said.
I glanced around and tightened my grip on my bags.
“Girl it is then. Hi, Girl.” She waved her hand, turned to walk away, and waved again. “Bye, Girl.”
“Paeton,” I said.
I don’t know why I said anything. I was tired of being alone. It was dangerous to get to know people, especially when they might steal. A new life was in my hands, more stuff than I could ever remember having. In my mind, I might as well have been walking around with a million credits or gold nuggets or something.
She turned back toward me. “Good to know you, Paeton. First time shopping, I see.”
A wad of thick saliva slid down my throat. My skin tingled and my stomach turned over.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna say nuthin, but you have to learn to be more discreet. Anytime you find money, you have to act like you’ve had it all the time. Otherwise when people see you, they’ll think you did what you already know you did.”
My stomach tightened. My eyes locked onto hers. Somehow she saw through me. My thievery spread over my face and down my arms. All my guilt poured back into me.
“Nope,” she said. “Don’t feel bad about it. Nothing can be done now. At this point, you have a new life. How you plan to live it is on you. I’m just encouraging you to be a little less… obvious. See ya, Paeton.” She turned back around and walked off.
She grew small in my vision as she went toward a metal L-shaped building. Something within me stirred. Hope curled around the top of my head and spread behind my ears.
I followed her. I didn’t have the courage to go inside. I hadn’t been in a real restaurant since my mom died. The food court didn’t count as a real restaurant.
I waited for two hours to see if she would come back out. I sat down against a tree, with my shopping bags clutched in a death grip. The yummy smells of various coffees, teas, and cocoas along with cakes, cookies, scones, and brownies found their way into my nostrils and made my newly empty stomach crave more. Being so far from the Stadium was still new to me. I wanted to take in every moment.
“You still here?” a voice asked.
I stood up and turned around. My hands quickly went to my pants dusting off excess dirt. I don’t know why I was embarrassed, but I was. Dhyla stood in front of me, two garbage bags in her hands. I wanted her to like me. She was the first person to genuinely show affection. Ms. Cooper was nice, but her attention was given to so many that eventually I just gave up.
“Are you always just going to stare at me when we have a conversation?” Dhyla asked.
“No, ma’am. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to—”
“I know, Paeton.” Her words were soft and sure.
My chest swelled so much I thought it would burst. She remembered my name.
“You like coffee?” she asked.
I avoided her gaze. “Uh, I dunno. I’ve only had it a few times and it was… well.”
“Say no more. I’ll find you something to wipe that sour look off your face. Come with me.”
Trash bags in hand, she stepped back toward Café Lanta. After she tossed the bags in the garbage, I followed her to the roof. It was the first time I had ever seen Atlanta’s skyline. The sun was still high, but purple and lilac clouds formed behind the mirrored glass of the buildings. A few hovercars buzzed around the tops, and all I could think about was the time I spent living on the second tier of the city with my mom. Even from this distance, I could make out a few parks and the rolling halos she took me to when I was eight.
“You can sit here, Paeton. I’m going to go get you some of the best coffee on this side of the Mississippi.”
My head bobbed up and down. “Thanks.”
I sat near the far end and made myself comfortable. The shopping bags stayed tight in my grip.
My back fidgeted. My fingers rolled and my eyes opened and closed in a million different intervals. I couldn’t relax. I wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.
“Breathe, just breathe, Paeton,” I told myself.
A few moments later, I stopped admiring the brand names on the shiny plastic bags. My eyes fell on the magnificent architecture and the way it cut into the sky. My heart melted and filled my body with calm. The shopping bags fell from my grasp and huddled onto the ground around my chair. The tightness in my chest evaporated and my leg slid under my butt. I was comfortable.
Dhyla came back with a paper cup and an oatmeal cookie. She sat both of them down in front of me. The rich, heavy scent of the coffee danced into my nostrils. Even though I couldn’t see the dark liquid under the swirled dollop of whipped cream, the coffee captured me in its warm grasp.
“Well don’t just look at it. It’s for drinkin’, last time I checked,” Dhyla said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I picked it up and placed the edge of the cup to my lips. In that instant, my taste buds opened to new heights. They sprang forth spreading their wings and flying over the rooftop. They danced over my tongue with a hint of sugar, cinnamon, and crème.
“So?” she asked.
“It’s good, really good.” I spun to her with open eyes. I grinned and took another sip. I didn’t understand why she was being so friendly. I hadn’t done anything for her.
“Great. I’ll tell my new barista that you liked it.”
“Um-hum.”
A few more sips slid down my throat. I paced myself. Like the food from the food court, I wanted to suck it down as fast as possible. My taste buds were addicted to its goodness. After half of the coffee was gone, I put the cup down and wiped my mouth.
My cheeks and neck warmed. Cold spiraled in my chest. My behavior was ignorant and
Lower-C.
“I’m sorry.” My gaze hovered over the table in front of me. “It’s just so good.”
“Well that’s a good thing. No problems.” She leaned back and rubbed her fingers. “So how old are you, Paeton?”
My skin tightened. I didn’t want to answer that. She would send me home or call Ms. Cooper and tell her what a bad girl I had been.
“I’m… I’m fourteen.”
Her eyes sparkled as she watched me. “You know, I had a daughter. She died five years ago. She would have been one year older than you.”
“I’m sorry.”
She waved the words away. “No need to be sorry. Life happens. There’s just one thing I want to know, Miss Paeton.”
“Ma’am?”
“Why did you stay outside so long?”
I glanced around, into the cup, and off toward the skyline. My mind searched for the right words, words I could be proud of. I wanted words that didn’t make me seem like a Lower-C. “Um, you were really nice to me—you seem really nice. And, I’m… by myself.”
“What do you mean by yourself? Where’s your mom and dad?”
I shook my head. I hated to admit anything, but a little voice at the back of my mind encouraged me to share for once.
“No brothers or sisters?”
“No, ma’am. It’s just me.”
“So where do you live?”
“I live at the Stadium with Ms. Cooper. She watches over me, but it’s hard for her now because they started charging money to live there. That’s why I—”
“Don’t.” She put up a hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Anytime you’re around me you don’t have to do that. We don’t explain. Everyone has something they need to keep secret. If you need somebody to just be around, then you just come on up here. I’ll make you some coffee, and we can just talk for a few minutes.”
Buying the clothes and eating at the food court were the best things in the world. However, when I sat in the plastic chair and glanced over at Dhyla from the top of my cup, everything inside be burst into joyful confetti. “Thank you, ma’am.”
A warm smile sat on her lips. “Next time you come, I’ll make you a different coffee.”
“I kinda like this one. Can I have another like this when I come back?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“What’s it called?”
“That, my dear, is a chocolate crème mocha.”
Dhyla and I talked for another twenty minutes or so. Right before the sun set, I left and went back to the Stadium, ditching the bags at the Perimeter Train Station. I changed into my new clothes, and I cut off the labels to the store bags so I could carry around the brand names in my pockets. There was something about holding a piece of the store I couldn’t explain. It made me feel powerful, excited, and proud.
I told Ms. Cooper that a lady I met gave me a bag of her daughter’s clothes because they didn’t fit. I said I was just lucky to be at the right place at the right time. I’m not sure Ms. Cooper believed me, but she didn’t say anything. I think after that she didn’t really say much to me anymore, besides a weekly prayer or two.
***
I glanced at the Ladies’ Locker Room and turned to see the line of women growing along the wall of the Stadium’s basement floor. It seemed like it all happened yesterday, but I was a new person inside and out. I had been stealing for over two years, and only in that brief moment with Dhyla had I ever regretted it. It became a way of life—my life. It was how I survived when the government and the system had failed me.
I checked my PCD. Only fifteen minutes had passed since I had gotten in line. I still had to deal with the issues of last night, Gray-Eyed Fox and the police. I needed to move. My insomnia was evidence of that.
I took a shower and washed my hair. It felt great to be clean. I brushed my hair back into a low ponytail and left the locker room. An encouraging smile formed on my lips aimed at the ladies in line, which was six times as long as it was thirty minutes ago. After climbing the stairs, I exited to the main level. Eight people stood around, their eyes glued to the six monitors attached to the ceiling.
Lower-Cs weren’t given many channels to watch, for free at least. Most monitors played local news, government news, old movies, or children’s programming. I had seen so many cartoons in my life, I could recite most of them by heart. Animated fairy tales played non-stop, most movies originating from the mouse house in Florida.
I took a position behind the others, watching the non-stop government news. I noticed Mr. Palmer, who was awake and sober. He took a step back toward me, and a few of the other bystanders shuffled a bit to let him through. He didn’t say anything, but just stared at the screen which played a video display of the events from last night. They showed the drone falling through security cameras from ten different angles. One camera shot was within the drone itself. The drone’s camera fizzled as something hit the drone, then the camera sped up until it hit the ground and went black.
A black, middle-aged woman articulated what was seen on the screen.
“The state’s second drone was destroyed last night. This is the second drone lost in the last few days with only one remaining to patrol the state. Without the drones, it is impossible for the police to properly protect the citizens of Georgia,” the newswoman said.
The video feed cut to the exterior of a restaurant. The street was dark with blue lamplight painting the gray beams at the edges of the doorway. Several reporters could be seen framing the sides of the video as Governor Read burst through the two front glass doors. His face was red and tight as he pulled a black coat over his navy blue suit.
“Governor, what do you make of the new drone attack?” one of the reporters asked.
“I don’t have all of the details yet. I’m going to see our beloved captain now.” Venom dripped from his mouth as he said the words.
“Do you have any new leads on Escerica?” another reporter asked.
“As of yet, we have suspects but no one of interest.”
An arm entered the frame with the same logo as the news channel. “Governor, what does this mean for your reelection or chances at the White House?”
Governor Read paused and bit his lip. He turned to the reporter next to the camera. “This Escerica horde will be caught and dealt with. I don’t care if the whole country is overrun with the vermin. We don’t play those games here in Georgia. And I’ll show once and for all how to complete an extermination.”
His eyes burned in their sockets before he turned and got into a limousine.
Escerica had branches all over the United States. Georgia was unique because we were the first to have lost two drones. California had lost one in the past, but according to reports, they had over eleven. I also heard Ohio managed to down one, but with five more up there, it made little difference.
Most of Georgia’s population resided in Atlanta or Savannah, so we only had three. Mr. Palmer told me the current government was too cheap to buy more. When I heard there may be a fourth mystery drone, I thought that was the state government’s way of using paranoia to keep us in check.
The desk reporter returned to the screen. Her face remained calm, despite Governor Read’s agitation in the last scene.
“The police are looking for any possible leads, and the state government has issued a reward of 2,000 credits for any information that will lead them to the perpetrators,” she said.
Mr. Palmer’s hand tightened around mine, calming me. “Do you know anything about the drone? You were out last night, right?”
I stared into his wrinkled face. His eyebrows were high. My stomach knotted. The situation escalated beyond any mental measurements.
“Yes. I saw it. I saw it explode,” I whispered.
He put his arms around me and pressed me into his lean body. Fearful, sweat pooled at the edges of my face and dripped down my hairline.
He leaned down. “Get outta here.”
CHAPTER 9
I had been so care
ful, but not careful enough. I wasn’t sure what the government would do if they caught me, but I didn’t want to find out. In the last two years, I had virtually disappeared from view. I stole what I needed and stayed away from people that would get me killed. The idiot Gray-Eyed Fox might have cost me, and I didn’t want to even think about Mari and Miko. The money I gave Ms. Cooper would only get them another two weeks of safety. After the money ran out, they’d be thrown on the streets. If the cops caught them, they could be chopped up and turned into androids. I would die if that ever happened. I couldn’t live if their perfect little faces were hidden behind some dark gray mask, destroying the lives of other Lower-Cs like them.
I spun around and quietly walked up the ramp toward the exit. The sun wasn’t up yet, and I could squeeze out of the Meadows before the police arrived.
My brain needed to think of a plan. I could ride the train to Lake Lanier. There were thousands of Upper-Cs up there and a few banks I could hit, but there was nowhere to sleep. I’d have to buy new clothes just to fit in. Lower-Cs stuck out like a sore thumb. With two drones down, the one from last night and the one from a few days ago, security should be low. Georgia only had the three drones, unless the mysterious fourth one was real and not legend. Either way, keeping track of nine million moving bodies would tax the system. I should be able to lie low for a few days.
My mind shattered. I couldn’t focus, but I had to stay calm. Getting caught wasn’t an option. I could go by Perimeter and buy some clothes—no, I needed money first—“Crix!”—money, then the Perimeter, and then Lake Lanier.
I continued around the main lobby area, heading for the side doors. After putting my backpack over my stomach and rummaging through my gear, I pulled my headband down around my neck. At least my D-Tag signal would be a bit smaller to detect. I searched the backpack until I found my scanner. I may as well reset it, because I didn’t know if a good opportunity would come up when I could grab a few D-Tags. I turned it on, and Mr. Cheater’s ID displayed across the LCD. As I walked, I checked the battery and the memory capacity.