The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2) Page 12

  Chapter Fifteen

  “We don’t have a choice,” said Lock. “You call the guard over. I’ll take him down.”

  “No. No. We can’t.”

  “We have to.” He took me by the shoulders, the seasoned commander corralling the terrified recruit. “Sky Station can’t be far from here. We’ll call Ona, have her meet us.”

  “She won’t come.”

  “She will if I—”

  “Wait.” I shook him off, desperate. “If we leave Echelon, it’s over. Any chance of answers, any hope of a cure—it’ll be gone, just like that. We need what Lazrad has, and we won’t find that Outside.”

  “And if we stay, we die today. At least my way, we’ll buy some time.”

  I swayed on my feet. My mind was flapping with panic, black wings scattering my thoughts. “I’ll call Ona,” I said. “If she won’t come, there’s no point. I’m not leaving without her.”

  Lock nodded tightly. I scrolled through my contacts. Jack’s had vanished already, like Sonia’s before it. Ona had her away message up—shopping. Bug off. I tapped her name anyway, then hung up mid-ring.

  “What are you doing?”

  I tapped A. REYLAND instead and stood holding my breath. He picked up on the third ring, all hushed and harried.

  “Switch off your hologram. Anyone can see you.”

  “My what?”

  “Third button from the top. Haven’t you ever—no, third button.”

  I did as he said, and the eye on my screen turned to an ear. Down the line, Reyland sighed.

  “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “We’re trapped, me and Lock. We got—”

  “Who is this?” Lock shouldered in beside me, knocking the phone from my hand. I fumbled it, nearly dropped it, and shoved Lock aside. Reyland made a frustrated sound.

  “I’m hanging up in ten seconds. Do you need my help or not?”

  “We’re stuck underground,” I said. “Not in the Dirt, in some basement. It says Warehouse B, and there’s—”

  Lock snatched my phone and aimed the camera at the incinerator. I heard a click, then a whoosh, and Lock’s angry growl. “Decemite disposal. Look familiar?”

  “Loading bay seven,” said Reyland. “We’re in the same building. Stay put, stay quiet, and I’ll be down to let you out.” The line went dead. I snaked my phone back from Lock and stuffed it in my pocket.

  “Who was that?”

  “He said ‘stay quiet.’”

  “I need to know I can trust him.” Lock grabbed a length of exhaust pipe and slapped it against his palm. It made a smacking sound.

  “Put that down. He’s a friend.”

  “And you know that how?”

  “Shut up.” I crouched down and dragged Lock with me. Someone was coming. Not Reyland, not so soon. The tunnel echoed with footsteps, maybe one set, maybe two. I felt my chest tighten. Lock was grinding his teeth loud enough I could hear them, clutching his pipe to his chest. I pinched his knee in warning as a lone guard emerged from the tunnel, adjusting his belt. His pants sagged at the crotch, forced down by his gut. He scratched himself, yawned widely, and ambled to the chute. He gave it a rattle—locked, it seemed—and peeled his phone off his wrist. I watched, barely breathing, as he thumbed out a text.

  “C’mon. C’mon.” He jabbed at his screen. “I see you typing. How hard’s yes or—”

  A buzzer went off, and he scrambled his phone out of sight. I couldn’t see where he was looking, but he drew himself to attention. His belt had slid down again, rather spoiling the effect.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Reyland stepped into view, toolbox in hand. “You’ve got a camera out, fire exit, left. I’ll need you back at your post while I run diagnostics.”

  “You’re gonna fix it? Aren’t you—”

  “Of course not.” Reyland made a tchah sound. “I’m here to determine why maintenance failed to manage it.”

  “Right you are. Sorry, sir.” The guard shuffled off, muttering under his breath. Reyland glanced around quickly and set his toolbox on a crate. He pulled out a gadget about the size of a phone and plugged it into a panel next to the fire door. A moment later, both cameras died, noses angling down like guilty dogs.

  “All right,” he said.

  Lock and I exchanged glances.

  “Is he saying—”

  “Come on, then.” He crooked his finger at nothing in particular. Lock and I scurried to him, hugging the wall. Reyland’s lips twitched down as he took in our attire.

  “You broke in in your—you know what? Don’t explain.” He hustled us through the fire door, out to the street. “I’ve knocked out the cameras at the corner. But you can’t walk around like that, where anyone can see you.” He took off his coat and draped it over my shoulders. “Take the alley behind the fish market, and along the river to the park. Catch the train home from there, and keep your heads down.”

  “Wait. We saw—”

  “We’ll discuss it at our scheduled meeting.” Reyland ducked back inside and let the door slam behind him. Lock looked down, blushing, and smoothed out the creases in his pajama top.

  “We really didn’t think that through.”

  “Maybe not, but now we know.” I gathered Reyland’s coat around me and hurried across the street. My socks stuck to the tarmac, threatening to trip me up. I discarded them in the alley, and we jogged barefoot to the station. A few Lofties paused to sneer at us as we raced through the park, but we found a train car to ourselves and ducked out of sight. Lock sat down, then lay down, slopping over six seats.

  “I can’t believe—I can’t believe—” He flung his arm across his face. “Screw that. I’m not stupid. I saw what I saw.”

  “You okay?” I sat down next to him, claiming a sliver of seat for myself.

  “It’s a slaughterhouse, all of it. Those bastards get fat off us, then when there’s only bones left—” He made a whooshing sound, like the incinerator. “The whole Dirt—you were right. There’s no... you die down there, or you die up here. You work till you drop, or the Undercrud gets you, or there’s us, our reward...”

  I laid my hand on his ankle, massaging absently. “You’re surprised?”

  “I’m...” Lock made a face, teeth bared. “I don’t know what I am. Not surprised, not exactly. You kept telling me, showing me, and on some level, I guess I knew you were right. But seeing for sure, it’s like—I’d say I’m hurt. Like, I thought I was worth something, and I’m not.”

  “Not to Lazrad, maybe. But—”

  “I can’t do this, this self-pity.” Lock heaved himself upright. “That guy who saved us—who was he?”

  “Reyland. He’s with Lazrad, but he’s with Starkey as well. He said he could—”

  “Wait. Starkey, as in Outside Starkey?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced around, paranoid, though the carriage was free of cameras. “He said he’d help me get answers, and a cure. Help us, if you’re with me.”

  “Looks like my life depends on it.” Lock leaned his head on the window, looking out. “Those Lofties, you think they know? Not the movers, not the Dirtheels, but everyone drinking their coffees, out riding their horses, shopping at Golden Square? You think they know it’s all paid for with—”

  “Us?” I stood up as we pulled into the station. “Maybe they do. Maybe they don’t. Question is, would they care?”

  The doors hissed open and we got out. Ona was home, I saw, sunbathing out back.

  “We have to tell her,” said Lock.

  I didn’t respond. He was right, of course, but—

  “Maybe she’ll believe it, coming from me,” Lock offered.

  I shook my head. “Let me break it to her.” I braced myself, circling round back. Ona was like Gran’s teapot, the one I’d helped decorate. We’d painted roses. Ona had painted her whole world, every detail the way she wanted it. She’d painted her insistent belief over her own eyes and lacquered it down tight. You’d have to smash her to break through that, hurt her, le
ave her shattered.

  “Hey.” She snapped her phone to her wrist. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Lazrad Corp.” I perched on the end of her deckchair, feeling it bow under my weight. “We saw something, me and Lock.”

  “What, in the gift shop?”

  “In the loading bay, by the warehouse.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I don’t get it. You... why are you in your pajamas?” She jolted upright. “No. I don’t want to know. Whatever you’ve been up to, whatever weird kind of—”

  “They burned Jack’s stuff.”

  Ona surged to her feet. “I said I don’t want to—”

  “They threw everything in the incinerator, everything he had.”

  Ona ran, and I chased her, the words tumbling from my lips. “Everything but his bracelet, and they stole that for their kids. He’s dead, Ona. They were—”

  She darted inside and slammed the door in my face. I jammed my foot in, then my shoulder, and squeezed with all my might. Ona let go and fled. She shot across the atrium, past the birds and up the stairs.

  “They took bets on Lock,” I called. “If he’d live out the year, or he’d—”

  “Ten months,” he said. “They gave me ten months. The big ones go down fast.”

  Ona screamed out loud. She bolted into her room and I heard the door lock. “Go away. Both of you. It’s not true, and even if it is...”

  I pressed my head to her door, waiting. I could hear her on the other side, not moving, just breathing, quick, harsh gasps. Lock came up behind me and set his hand on my shoulder. Downstairs, the birds were restless, filling the silence with their chatter.

  “Ona?”

  She stopped breathing. Snuffled. Started breathing again.

  “Talk to me. Please.”

  “He must’ve done something,” she said. “Or not done something. He never tried. Never—”

  “You know that’s not true.” Lock’s grip tightened on my shoulder. “Jack was sick. You saw him, and Sonia before him. You saw—”

  “I saw them sitting around the house, never bothering with anything.”

  I let out a shuddering breath. “Why don’t you ask Elli? Ask her where they went.”

  “They moved on. She can’t tell me. Not till I move on too.” Ona seemed to gain confidence, her voice rising in triumph. “Why would they give us all this, if we’re just going to die? They could’ve blown our heads off the second we stepped off the elevator. That would’ve been quicker, and a lot less expensive.”

  “Just like that, huh? You wouldn’t have put up a fight?” I laughed without meaning to, a quick, messy snort. “It’s nothing to them—this house, this life. It’s not like we live here long. But as long as we do, we’ll go quietly, no fuss, all caught up in our new lives. Think about it. Just think—”

  “Oh, I’ve thought plenty.” It was Ona’s turn to laugh. “Do you hear yourself? You’ve got an answer for everything, but all you’re doing—all you’re really doing—you’re making trouble, like always, and you always get caught.”

  “Ona...” I closed my eyes, stymied. “Come on. Open the door.”

  “You don’t get it. You never will.” Her back thumped against the door, and I heard her slide down it. Her voice had gone sharp, almost spiteful. “You think they threw me a party when A-team brought me home?”

  “What?”

  “They took me to holding. To that room by the cells. They chained me like a criminal and left me for hours. Then Prium came, and he—”

  I heard Lock hiss behind me, a tense little sound. My nails dug crescents into my palms.

  “What did he do?”

  “He said he had you already. That D-team brought you back. He said I had value, but you were just Dirt.” Her voice rose, furious, cracking with rage. “He said you were next, after he got through with me, and he never said what that meant, but the way he kept filing his nails—he was gonna torture you. He was going to hurt you, and I saved you, and it’s like you don’t even care. You only think of—”

  “Ona!”

  “—yourself, and you—”

  “Stop it. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re selfish, is what you are.” She thumped her fist on the door. “I saved you. I saved all of us, but all you care about’s those Outsiders.”

  I caught myself on the doorframe, breathing hard. I felt gutted, scraped raw inside. “You didn’t save them,” I whispered, unsure Ona would hear me. “They’ve got families too, and you hung them out to dry.”

  “Like you did to my family, running out the way you did. Siding with those traitors, picking them over us.”

  The breath caught in my throat. “Your family?”

  “You heard me.”

  I sank to my knees. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I’ve never meant anything more.” Ona got up, and I heard her walk away. She turned the shower on full blast and slammed her bathroom door. I curled up where I knelt, burying my face in my arms. Lock sat down next to me and gathered me to his chest.

  “She didn’t mean that,” he said. “I promise she didn’t.”

  “Why won’t she believe me?” The words came out jagged, all broken into sobs. “I’m doing this for her. For her cure. I’d never hurt her on purpose, so why—”

  Lock rocked me in his arms, and at first, he didn’t say anything. He hummed low in his chest, sort of a pondering sound. “I didn’t want to believe, either,” he said at last. He worked his fingers through my hair, teasing out the tangles. “You’re asking her to face her own death. To accept she’ll never grow old, never live out her dreams. That’s a lot to put on anyone, much less a kid.”

  “You’re a kid. Well, a teenager.”

  “I’m almost twenty. And I’ve seen enough to know—” He hesitated, fingers stilling in my hair. “I’ve seen enough of the world to know it’s a cold place.”

  I shivered against him, hid my face in his shirt.

  “I’m with you,” he said. He was playing with my hair again, twirling it around his fingers. “That Reyland—didn’t he say something about a meeting?”

  I nodded. “In two days’ time.”

  “I’m coming to that meeting,” said Lock. “And I’ll be with you every step of the way. Ona doesn’t have to believe us for us to save her skin.”

  Lock’s voice was comforting, his tone as much as his words. I drew strength from his calm, and from his solid presence at my back. I had one more ally, and someday, Ona would forgive me. We’d rebuild what was broken, once we’d saved her, once she saw.

  “Thank you,” I said, voice steady at last. I sat back and wiped my eyes, and Lock helped me to my feet.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Oh, no. No, no, no.” Reyland descended on Lock, crowding him back toward the door. Lock let him, baffled, like a dog cornered by a kitten. His dopey confusion only seemed to incense Reyland further, and he planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t know who gave you the impression you were invited, but this is a private meeting.”

  “Really? ‘Cause the sign says public library.”

  “He’s with me,” I said.

  “With you, if you say so, but he’s not one of us.” Reyland raked his fingers through his hair. “A dyed-in-the-wool Decemite, sworn, Ascended—no. No. He can’t be trusted.”

  “I trust him.” I grabbed Lock’s hand and squeezed it. “He went up against his own for us, when Ben’s base was under siege. He got us that gretha. He—”

  “I’ll leave if you want me to,” said Lock. “But for me, this is personal. What I did out there, what she’s talking about—I did that so nobody would get hurt, Outsiders or Decemites. We shouldn’t have been fighting, so I put a stop to it. I—”

  “Shouldn’t have been fighting!” Reyland bristled. “What would you know about—”

  “I’m not done.” Lock’s lips went tight. “The half-measures, the compromises—those were my life. Damage control. Getting my folks to the Stars so my mom could breathe freer. Scaring off filch
ers so I wouldn’t have to shoot ‘em. But coming up here, seeing how it oughtta be...” He went to the window and stood gripping the ledge. “You’ve got pills for the Undercrud, clear it off in a month. Why can’t my mom get those? Why are we dying, when there’s so much to go around?”

  Reyland sighed deeply and pressed his fingers to his temples. He looked tired and pale without his anger to sustain him.

  “All right,” he said. “I don’t suppose it much matters, now you’ve seen my face. If you’d meant to betray us—”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Let’s get to it, then.” Reyland checked his watch and scowled. “I’ve news from the Dirt. Lazrad’s holding a Selection, not the yearly test, but a second round. Older kids. Ones who failed the first time.”

  I shrugged, unsurprised. “She needs bodies to work her mines.”

  “I wasn’t finished.” Reyland shot me a peevish look, all sharp and pinch-lipped. “Word is, the numbers she’s recruiting, she could mine enough rigur to build an army of Decemites—and that’s precisely what we believe she’s doing.” He stared me down, then Lock, eyes bright and searching. “She wants the mountains for herself, and the riverlands, and the gorge. That’s where the rigur is, and where the Outsiders make their homes.”

  “She wants to eliminate the competition.” Lock’s voice caught, and he coughed.

  “Not just the competition,” said Reyland. “Anyone who might oppose her. And once she does—once she does, there’ll be no stopping her.”

  I felt the air go out of the room. I stood lightheaded, not breathing, blood pulsing behind my eyes. “How long? Before she can...?”

  “She’d need the rigur first,” said Reyland. “And then she’d need to train them. But given their strength, even untrained, and the numbers she has in mind, she might not train them too hard. She might just—”

  “Send enough she can lose half, and still—” Lock sat down heavily, cradling his head in his hands. “They’ll die. They’ll be—no amount of strength’ll save you with a smoke bomb in your face, all lost and choking, no idea how to protect yourself. They’ll get picked off like flies, just...”