Snorting in disgust, she turns her attention back to us. We race up the stairs, passing several people huddled in the corner of the second floor’s landing. The eyes of a woman wearing near-rags grow wide as she spots our weapons. She bares her teeth at us while pulling two small children close to her.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter. A child wedged under her arm lets out a soft cry and I rip my attention away.
Beda comes to my side. Startled by the sight, she whispers in my ear, “What is wrong with this place?”
I remain silent while thinking up an answer. We pound up the next flight of stairs and leave behind the poor woman and her children.
Sickness twists in my stomach. I have often wondered the same thing. Until now, I never really appreciated how I had always lived in the lap of luxury. How had Irene survived living in LA her entire life and not gone insane or gotten killed? How had she stayed focused on learning computer science so well that she beat out thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of applicants, to go on the first starship to populate Arcadia?
“These people already had almost nothing, and with the earthquake, what they had left was taken away from them too,” I finally offer as the reason.
“How can your council or government ignore their suffering?” Beda asks. “The Alku always care for their people.”
I raise my brow. “I don’t know the answer to that question.”
But I do. A people oppressed are a people easily controlled.
This is why Vihann was trying to avoid a war with humans. He didn’t want his “humanity” stripped away by trying to grasp for power or control.
We hit the landing of floor four and stride into the hallway. More people line the corridor, and I avoid looking any directly in the eyes. Several cough and one lets out a soft moan as we pass.
“Please help us . . .” a soft voice whispers.
I can’t ignore the plea and discover a girl who can’t be more than twelve. Her dark hair is dirty and hangs over her face. Her clothes are covered in a film of dirt, and her cheek is streaked with the same look. My heart shatters.
With a jittery breath, I reach into my pack and fumble around for the meal bars I packed. I kneel next to her and shove a bar into her hands.
“Don’t show anyone.”
We don’t have enough for all these people, and part of me is afraid that they could rush us to get at the rest. Quickly, I stand and scan around for my friends who, all but Javen, are near the end of the corridor at a door.
Warmth tingles through my body when I return my attention to him. He holds out his hand. I take it and we leave the young girl behind. Javen and I catch up to the rest, who are now waiting for us by the door.
“Did you knock?” I ask as we arrive.
Yaletha scowls at me. “Of course we knocked. We’re not stupid.”
Irene pounds on the door again. “Aunt Ada? It’s Irene!”
We listen and a few footsteps come from the room behind the door, but then they go silent.
“What if they think it’s a trick?” Irene’s worried gaze falls on me. “I have to get them out of here.”
“Stand back.” Stepping forward, Javen waves Irene out of the way. He raises his blaster and squares his jaw. At first, I think he’s going to kick the door in, but he does something else entirely. He disappears.
A few seconds later, the door flies open. Javen stands in the entry, his weapon pointed at a balding man in front of an old yellow couch, wearing a stained white tank top and holding his hands in the air above his head.
When Irene sees him, her features harden. She raises her blaster and flies into the room, stopping just inches before the guy.
“Baz, where’s Ada?”
CHAPTER 9
The man gawks at Irene in shock. “Irene? What are you doing here? And how’d he—” Startled, the man’s words fade, and he eyes Javen.
Irene continues to hold her gun up at the man, keeping her hardened stare. “I asked you a question first. Where is my aunt, my cousins?”
“Baz?” A woman’s voice calls from a room in the back of the apartment.
Beda and Yaletha waste no time and race off, guns ready, stalking the voice’s owner. After a few seconds, a middle-aged woman with scraggly hair walks in front of them with her hands held in the air. She looks to Baz. “What’s going on here?”
“They're looking for Ada and the kids,” he tells her.
The woman’s gaze fixes on Irene. “Why are you back? You had a one-way ticket off this forsaken place. You should have taken it and never looked back.”
“She’s here for her family!” I finally snap, hoping it will make the woman stop blabbering and tell us where Irene’s aunt and cousins are.
“They’re gone, honey,” the woman replies, flicking her attention back to Yaletha, who still points a blaster at her. “Why you need so many guards on a little ol’ lady?”
“Oh, shut up, Charmayne,” Irene snaps. “You’ve lived in the worst part of town your entire life, and you’re still alive. I think you know how to take care of yourself.”
“Just tell them what they want to hear, Baz,” Charmayne says, pursing her lips.
Javen moves in closer, his gun still aimed at the man.
“All we know is the quake hit and then they were packing up to get out of this place,” Baz says. “This is a nicer unit than ours, so we moved in.” He shrugs. “You’ve seen the people out there in the hall. Somebody else would have squatted if we didn’t.”
“And you never thought of sharing the space with a few of those families out there?” I demand.
Charmayne scoffs. “You never know what diseases those riff-raff have. Me and Baz are looking out for each other. That’s it.”
“There are children and mothers!” Beda growls.
“You try living in this and see how much goodwill you got left,” Baz growls.
I shake my head in disbelief. “Did Aunt Ada say where they might be going?”
Baz presses his lips together and forms a deep frown. “Nope, but I saw them stop in at 435 before they left. Maybe that old bat knows something.”
Scoffing, Irene lowers her gun. “Let’s leave these vermin.” She struts up to Baz. “Just take this dump.”
He gives her a curt nod. “Don’t mind if I do.”
A low growl comes from Irene’s throat, but she waves us out of the unit. “Let’s go.”
We march out the door, slamming it behind us as quickly as we can.
Once out in the dim hall, Irene’s nostrils flare and her left hand balls into a fist.
“Let’s check 435,” I say before she fully explodes. “See what they know.”
The corners of Irene’s eyes glisten with moisture, and I take her arm in mine. “We’re going to find them.”
Taking a deep breath, she looks up at the ceiling to stop the tears.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“Yes.”
We jog down the hall, and Irene knocks on the door with the numbers 435 stamped on the wood.
“Go away!” a woman’s voice calls from inside. “I got a gun, and I’ll use it!”
“Mrs. Hester. It’s Irene Parks. I need to find out where my aunt and cousins went. I’m trying to find them.”
I listen for an answer, but nothing sounds from inside the apartment.
“Please?” Irene finally pleads.
The door cracks open with a squeak, and the face of a wrinkly woman who can’t be taller than four-foot-ten appears in the open space.
She eyes Irene for a moment, then looks over the rest of us. We lower our weapons out of sight—no need to frighten the woman any more than she already is.
“Your aunt is gone. Took the kids,” Mrs. Hester finally answers. She attempts to shut the door, but Irene smacks her hand onto the wood, preventing her.
“We know that. Charmayne and Baz are squatting in our apartment. That scumbag said Ada stopped here before she left. My aunt had to have told you something.”
&nbs
p; The lady’s eyes scan over us again. “Who are these people?”
“These are my friends,” Irene says. “They're here to help me find my family . . . that’s it.”
Tightening her lips, the woman glares at Irene. “Ada tried to get me to leave with them, to go someplace safer. But I knew better. There is no place safer.”
“Did she say where?” Irene urges.
Mrs. Hester’s sad gaze falls to the ground. “She was going to Franky.”
Irene’s posture slumps, and she brings her hand to her mouth. “Franky?”
“Ada had some extra CosmicCoin saved up from the money you sent, and she was willing to pay his fee.”
“Who’s Franky?” I ask. Instead of answering, Irene waves me away.
“Why didn’t you tell her not to go?” Irene asks. “You know Franky is no good.”
“Of course I told her. That’s why I refused to go.” Mrs. Hester’s eyes dart around at us again. “There’s nothing else I can tell you. Sorry.” With those words, she slams the door and the locks click and pop.
“You want me to port in there?” Beda asks.
Irene shakes her head. “I’m sure you would give her a heart attack, and there’s no use doing that. I believe her.”
“Well, where is this Franky?” Beda asks.
“His operation is a couple of blocks from here,” Irene says. “If that’s where it still is.”
Javen looks my way, catching my attention. Do you still feel right about this?
I check my Connect. We’ve only been gone thirty minutes. The ache in my stomach says no, but we can’t just give up this easily. “Let’s go find them,” I say and wave everyone toward the stairwell.
On the way down, Irene reaches into her pack and gives the woman with the two children several meal bars. They rip them open and devour the food before we even reach the stairs.
As we exit the building, Irene moves to my side. “I brought something we may be able to trade with Franky to get info on my aunt and cousins.”
“What?” I ask, trying to keep my attention toward the street in case of attackers. It’s still mostly deserted, but I know that appearances can be deceiving.
“Medicine,” she says, patting her bag. “There’s a stock of it back at the lab, and I picked out a few different kinds. I doubt much of it is getting through to this war zone right now.” She scans the buildings and streets. “Doesn’t seem like there’s any kind of government aid. They’re just leaving these people to die. But no surprise there.”
I open my mouth to speak, but the second I do, a group of scraggly boys carrying weapons jumps out in front of us. A tall, brown-haired one grips a sharp knife. A shorter boy next to him with a similar nose—probably his younger brother—wields a broken baseball bat. Several others leer in the background with homemade weapons of their own.
All of them appear hungry, their faces gaunt with dark circles under their eyes. They probably haven’t slept well in a very long time . . . if ever.
“Give us your bags or—” the biggest one yells, but his voice halts when Yaletha and Beda train their blasters on them.
Javen tips his head in their direction and regards them gravely. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”
The shorter boy growls and lunges at Beda.
“Sam!” the oldest calls and grabs for his arm but misses.
Sam launches forward, but Beda is quicker. She grabs the boy in midair and takes him to the ground, pinning him while his bat flies into the street.
Instead of attacking, the boys behind Sam freeze in terror.
The tall kid’s eyes go wide, and he releases a primal scream, shooting toward his pinned brother. But before he gets far, Yaletha puts him in a headlock and relieves him quickly of his knife. “You need to settle down, boy!” she orders. “You’re attracting too much attention!”
The kid squirms and growls, a futile attempt to escape Yaletha’s powerful grip.
“I’m outta here!” a different boy yells, and the lot of them take off down the street and disappear down an alleyway.
“Cowards!” the tall boy yells after them.
Irene releases a long sigh and moves her attention back and forth between the two captive and squirming boys. “Either of you two know where Franky is?”
The older one stops moving and locks onto Irene. “Who wants to know?”
Tired of this dance, Javen takes two steps toward the boy. “You are in no position to show us disrespect. Do you know where this Franky is or not?”
“Don’t tell ’em, Art!” the smaller boy shouts from the ground.
“Shut up, Sam!” Art growls. “Who’s in charge here?”
Sam goes quiet at the question.
If the situation were any less horrible, it would be funny. But I can’t laugh at two ravenous kids who are just trying to survive.
“You got something to pay for that info?” Art demands.
Yaletha flips him over and gives Art a powerful death stare. “You hungry?”
Art gulps as she holds his locked attention. “Uh . . . yeah?”
“Then, when you two lead us to Franky, we’ll give you something to eat,” she offers. We all nod in agreement when he darts a hopeful look our way.
She and Beda place the boys on their feet but continue to grip their upper arms.
“Don’t attempt to escape,” Beda growls. “You will not enjoy how that turns out.”
The two boys eye each other.
“Franky moved to a different building,” Art says. “The one he was in before got munched.”
“Then take us there,” I demand.
The boys, still guarded by Yaletha and Beda, lead us several blocks over. On the way, there are more destroyed cars, chunks of damaged buildings, and the ever-present brown sky.
“In case this goes bad, we need to have the portal ready,” I whisper to Irene and Javen.
Irene takes out the device and quickly checks the coordinates, making sure everything is functioning properly. Once done, she tucks it into her bag.
“You know Franky is dangerous, right?” Sam’s voice squeaks while his eyes plead that we not take them any farther.
“We know,” Beda says. “And once you get us there, you can go.”
Art points ahead at a fairly intact stone building. Several burly men, which I guess are guards, mill around the front door.
“They don’t like us,” Sam confesses. “Can we go now?”
Stepping toward the kids, Irene reaches into the bag again and pulls out meal bars. She hands three to the boys as Beda and Yaletha release their charges.
After snatching the bars, Art and Sam sprint in the opposite direction and don’t look back.
“Try to share those with your friends,” Javen calls after them, but I’m sure we all know those bars will be gone in less than ten minutes.
“Weapons away,” Irene says.
Beda’s nostrils flare. “Fine. I don’t need weapons to take any of those humans to the ground anyway.
“We just want to get out of here with Irene’s family,” I say to her. “Not attract attention.”
Tucking the blasters into the back of our pants, we all cover the weapons with our shirts.
“I need to read Franky before we share details with him. I may tell him we just want to see my aunt and cousins. Then we’ll have to figure out how to get them out of the building,” Irene says. “Ready?”
I nod and we head toward the building, keeping our hands at our sides and eyes down slightly to appear as nonthreatening as possible. As we get closer, several of the guards draw guns.
“Stop where you are,” one of them calls out to us.
Irene halts, as do the rest of us behind her. “We need to talk with Franky.”
“Franky doesn’t talk with kids,” he calls back. “Unless you got something to sell or need his services, I would recommend you turn around and get off our turf. We ain’t giving handouts.”
Two more guards join him,
forming a muscled wall, but Irene doesn’t back down. “I would bet you need antibiotics in there.” She opens her bag and displays the contents.
The sight of the medication makes the guard raise his eyebrow in interest. I guess Irene was right. That offer struck a nerve.
With a tip of his head to Irene, he gestures for us to pass, and my heart rises into my throat.
CHAPTER 10
Inside the building, we’re greeted by two burly guards. My heart pounds as my gaze focuses on them. Both have huge blasters slung over their shoulders, and if expressions could kill, theirs probably would.
The first one is short, but I don’t let it fool me. He looks like he’s built from of a ton of bricks. The second one’s best feature is a scowl, and he has a long scar over his left eye. It appears that someone attempted to relieve him of his sight and failed.
We can’t let them go through any of our belongings, I send into to Javen’s mind, even though being searched is a likely possibility.
Javen’s eyes connect with mine, his brow furrowing as we exchange a cautious glance.
“Stop here,” the short guy orders, holding out his hand to us. “No weapons past this point.”
Beda cocks her head at him, her lips curling into an uncharacteristically sweet, almost flirty smile. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”
Confused, I keep my eye on her but quickly realize her meaning. No one here but Irene truly needs a gun to have a weapon at their disposal. Everyone else should be able to conjure the Starfire’s power, if necessary.
Beda and Yaletha are the first to hand over their blasters, and by the open-mouthed stares on the guards’ faces, they’re obviously taken with the beautiful light- and dark-haired women. Who wouldn’t be? Those two are some of the most stunning people I’ve ever seen.
Turning toward us, Yaletha motions to the guards with a tilt of the head. “Hand these men your weapons.”
One by one we surrender our blasters, until it’s Irene’s turn. Being last, she raises a brow at me, but I nod my assurance.
“What else you got in those bags?” the second guy asks, once more sporting a scowl.
The Starfire Wars- The Complete series Box Set Page 55