Green Jack
By Alyxandra Harvey
Copyright 2016
Elysium City, 2086
Chapter 1
Saffron
The Taggers were onto her.
Saffron had finally found a decent clump of pineapple weed and, of course, the bloody taggers showed up. Scavenging for plants was technically illegal in the common areas, but surviving on the Directorate-issue protein paste was miserable. She didn’t know how they’d even figured out she was untagged, since she was crouched in the rain with her sleeves down to her wrists. Bad enough the Directorate opened up Tagging centres to test for numen, but it was just insulting when other scavengers from the Core turned traitor to become Taggers. She didn’t just want to escape, she wanted to break some bones at the same time.
She ducked between two rusted cars before they could get into range. One dart from the tranquilizer gun and she’d wake up in a Tagging centre, if she woke up at all. People from the Core went missing all the time. She didn’t run south toward the Core, even though she knew the streets and alleys there better than anyone. They would expect that, and they’d have backup waiting. And anyway she wouldn’t lead them to her Oona. She’d rather be tagged.
Actually, she’d rather feed them their own darts and electricity.
“Stop her!” one of the Taggers shouted. The other Elysians faded away into the crumbling buildings. They wouldn’t help the Taggers. Of course, they wouldn’t help her either, any more than she’d have helped them. That wasn’t the way you survived as a scavenger.
“It won’t hurt, sweetheart,” was the next shout. “It’s just a test and a tattoo.”
She would have snorted if she’d had the breath to spare. It wasn’t fear, it was the principle. Leaves slapped at her as she ran. She was piling up infractions: scavenging, untagged, and now breaking branches of the trees that grew at all angles in all parts of the City. They were protected, worth more than anything or anyone from the Core. They emerged from broken windows and through the skeletons of abandoned cars covered in moss and lichen and weeds. At this rate, she’d anger a Dryad and have her intestines wrapped around a tree like a yuletide banner. She had to wonder what the Directorate had told the girls who turned into Dryads when they’d first started the Green Jack experiments. Another version of “it’s just a test and a tattoo, sweetheart.”
A dart flew past her ear, nearly catching in the braid at the temple. She ducked behind a door, grabbing for one of her knives. It sliced between the sheets of rain, slamming into one of the Tagger’s shoulders. The tranquilizer gun clattered to the ground. It didn’t stop them though; mostly, it just pissed them off. Well, good. She was plenty pissed off herself.
She was near the Wall, and if she wasn’t careful she’d get stuck between the guards and the Taggers. But if she went up into one of the buildings she might be trapping herself. She didn’t know which had stairs, which had bridges to other buildings, which had tenants who would turn her in for the promise of a reward. The Taggers were now offering packets of seeds for those who helped them. It was hard to compete with that. Even if she’d had more than a handful of weeds to offer as a bribe. Which she didn’t.
The rain ran into her mouth; it was cold and tasted like metal. It had been raining for five weeks and three days. Before the Rains, there hadn’t been a cloud for over nine months. Everything was covered in dust, which was just as deadly. At least when the rains came you never went thirsty.
That was how you could always tell the poor folk from the others; Elysians grew their hair into long braids to catch the rain, and the rich Enclave folk cut theirs short as rat fur. The rain was a liar, though. It slid down your face and you couldn’t help but hope. And after all these wet weeks, the hope got stronger, so strong you’d swear you were drinking greensap whiskey instead. It muddled your brain. The Wall couldn’t handle the constant water; that was the hope lured people away from their cramped apartments hundreds of feet up in the air. The electricity shorted out and the Wall looked like any other wall, and someone always tried to climb over it.
Someone always died.
Tonight was no different.
Green Jack Page 1