Ash (19 page)

A minute later Sol breezed back into the room. I assumed he would say something about his mom’s behavior. I was even prepared with my ‘there’s no shame in being an afflicted speech. It’s a disease,’ but it wasn’t necessary.

“It appears that patience isn’t your strong suit,” he said, completely catching me off guard.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Usually when someone ignores a ping, you don’t expect that person to show up on your doorstep.”

“You mean you got my pings and didn’t answer?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it. The nerve of him, letting me come all the way out here.

“Busy night,” he said, as if this was some kind of explanation. He motioned for me to take a seat as he scooped up the bowls from the dinner table, dropping them with a clang into the sink. I wiped a few crumbs away before sitting.

Sol yanked a chair out next to me, scraping it noisily over the floor, before draping his lanky body over it. He raised his eyebrows, “So princess, tell me what brings you to the Ash zone?” He leaned back on two legs of his chair, and flipped his dark hair out of his eyes, fixing me with a curious look. “After everything that happened today I doubt you’re here for the answers to Professor Fellers’ Modern English exam.” He gave me a forced grin and a single dimple dented his left cheek.

“I just need access to some information,” I replied. “It’s restricted access. It’s a personal project.” Seeing the sudden burst of interest on his face I hastened on. “Family history is all.”

“You came to the Ash Zone after dark, despite everything that happened at the championship today, for a—” Sol paused, his eyebrows shooting even higher if that was even possible. “Family history project?”

“Not that I should have to justify anything to you,” I replied testily, “but it’s about my mother. She was a writer for the
Times
, and I want to read some of her articles, but they’re blocked.” I smiled. I was asking for a favor, I reminded myself. “I need to get into the Records Room so I can access them, and I know you have a code. That’s all.” Sol leaned forward on the table, looking at me quietly. His dark eyes were thoughtful, and held mine for several seconds. I refused to look away.

“Why not just ask the secretary?” he asked.

“I don’t want her to know my business. And I know you’ve handled a lot of classified information.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll get you in tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?
I needed to get in tonight. “Can’t you just give me your code?”

He shook his head no. “You need my handprint too.”

I groaned to myself. I should have realized the records were sealed with touch pad security as well. I was going to have to walk back through the Ash zone, alone, having accomplished nothing. This trip had certainly taught me a lesson. No more rash actions. I was going to be a minister soon. I needed to act like it. But maybe there was still a way to salvage the trip.

“Can’t you come with me tonight? I’ll pay for your transportation, of course,” I offered, trying to sound more businesslike.

He laughed. “It’s not the train fare.” He looked up at the clock. “It’s after nine o’clock. Curfew’s at ten. There’s no way I’d make it back by then.”

“So I’ll pay the fine.”

He shook his head. “Too risky. You saw my mom. With the price of her pills and our taxes, we can barely make ends meet. No offense, but I can’t trust my family’s home on your word.”

“Fine,” I said. “But tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll help. My shift starts at three. Why don’t you meet me at 2:30 outside of the Records Room. No one is ever there but me.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a real smile. “That’s very nice of you.”

“Who said anything about nice?” he replied. “Services provided will come to—” He did a quick mental calculation, making a show of counting the total out on his fingers. “Three hundred ostows, even. I accept cash or e-transfer.”

That was probably more money than his family made in a week, but I wasn’t about to quibble over price. It was low enough that my father wouldn’t even notice it missing. “Deal,” I said.

“I would have taken one-hundred-fifty,” he replied, the dimple appearing again with his grin. He stood up, pushing his chair back with a screech. “Now come on. I’ll walk you back to the station.”

I stood, relieved by the offer, but determined not to show it.

“And, princess,” he said. “Word of advice. Next time you visit the Ash zone, you might consider wearing something a little less,” he paused, groping for the right word.

“Elegant?” I offered.

He shook his head. “Scandalously purple,” he replied. “The resell value of that dress alone could feed a family for a month.” He winked before turning and walking down the hallway and out the front door.

I followed after him, unsure if he was joking or not. I wasn’t about to ask.

M
y thoughts spiraled. Who were these people? And where was I? If I got away, would I even know which way to run? I couldn’t move my hands well enough to reach my wrist tracker to call for help. And my locator was off, not that it would work this far below ground anyway. This was it. No one in my family knew I was gone. Except my mother, of course. But she’d been halfway to crazy when I’d left her. I’d have to get out of this alone.

My captors were arguing to one side, and I heard footsteps approach me. I tightened into a ball, expecting a kick, or worse. Small hands clenched around my shoulders. It was the woman again. “Fight me and I swear I will knock you unconscious.” She yanked me to my feet and led me about ten paces, then pressed me down to my knees. She grabbed my wrists and cut off my restraints. For a second I thought maybe she was letting me go, but then she twisted my arms and tied me back up around something cold and metallic. A pole, I thought.

I tried to say something, to talk myself out of whatever insanity I’d just gotten caught up in, but it came off as a jumble of sounds through the gag.

“Shut up,” the woman said, smacking me over the head for my troubles. A moment later she moved away from me. Two pairs of footsteps sounded in the air, then a door slid open and slammed closed. The man and woman argued on the other side, their voices a muted, angry buzz.

I sat in shock, breathing through my panic.
Think, Dax,
I commanded myself. I began to take stock of my surroundings. Somewhere a steady drip splashed against the ground. Its echo made me realize I was in what must have been a small space. The air itself was damp, and heavy. It smelled of mildew, though that could have been from the fabric over my head. Next to me, I heard something scratching and running around on what seemed like small, clawed feet. There were rats in the Tombs. That’s what everyone said anyway. Contaminated rats that could kill you with a single bite. If I made it out of here, no way was I going to be taken out by a rat. I stumbled up to my knees, wincing in pain, then pulled myself up to stand and stifled a groan.

My side still hurt, but at least I was on my feet. It was something. Now I just had to get myself free. I tested the binds around my wrist. With every tug I felt the bands dig into my skin. I was going to need something to cut through them. I decided to focus on the gag first. If I could at least speak, I’d have a chance to explain myself. I turned my head from side to side frantically, loosening the fabric.

From there I rolled the gag back and forth between my teeth and finally used my tongue to push it out of my mouth, over my chin.

I tried shaking off the bag covering my head, but I didn’t have enough freedom to move, so it wouldn’t budge. Instead I redoubled my efforts, biting down on the material and tugging up. It gave, and I felt a twinge of hope.

The next few minutes were excruciating. I bit the material, nodded my head up, and then clamped it between my chin and shoulder before I began the whole process again. Outside, the argument continued to heat up, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the man and woman returned. The cover moved inch by painstaking inch, and I almost shouted with relief when I pulled the fabric up over one eye. My elation was short-lived. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I took in the broken windows, the filthy benches on either side of me, and the metal poles evenly spaced through the narrow room. I’d seen the photos. There was no denying it. I was in a pre-Event subway car.

I turned back and forth in horror, looking around for lingering bodies. These were the cars responsible for removing the dead from the city. I was surrounded by contamination. Oh crilas. Forget the rats. If I made it out of here, I doubted I’d last the night after exposure to the toxins. The longer I stayed, the worse my chances were. I had to get out.

I crouched down, using my foot to kick over a piece of shattered glass about the size of my palm. I got it close enough to where I could just reach it, when I saw my captors turn toward the door. My fingertips wrapped around the shard, and I managed to grasp onto it and stand back up before the door slid open. I hid the piece in my hand as they walked toward me.

The man was huge—well over six feet. His arms were massive, and his head shaved. Stubble covered his face and he frowned down when he saw I’d gotten rid of the bag. “Great,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His biceps bulged through his black shirt.

The woman looked tiny when paired beside him. She ran a hand through uneven, cropped brown hair and glared at me. “That was quick work,” she said. “Told you she was trouble.”

Were they PAE soldiers? Only, what would they be doing down here? I took in the woman’s black shirt, pants, boots, and the absence around her wrist where a tracker should have been. Not wearing a tracker was illegal. Dressing in pure black was unsanctioned. You were allowed some white or black, but you had to prominently display your ring’s color at all times. Whatever I had just stumbled into I needed to get out of. Fast.

“This is a big mistake,” I said. “I just came here looking for answers that have nothing to do with you. I don’t know who you are. Honestly, I don’t care. Just let me go, and we can all forget this ever happened, okay?”

The woman ignored my words, striding toward me. She reached for my arm and I flinched, gripping the glass shard I was holding tighter. I’d use it if I got the chance.

“Why don’t you tell us about this?” she said. Aldan’s wristband had fallen down from where I’d concealed it. She pulled it away from my skin and let it snap back into place. “Only a Purple would be vain enough to ruin a perfectly good Ash disguise like yours.”

“I’m not a Purple,” I said. “I’m an Ash. This was my brother’s—it was a gift.”

The woman snorted. “
That’s
your story? You’ve got a Purple brother who likes to share accessories?”

I glared back at her, battling anger and terror. “It’s true. Aldan used to practice above ground on the track. He died today in the loop championship, and when I saw you come down here I thought you might know something about why he did what he did. My mistake.”

The woman’s expression changed, her anger shifting to a look of worry. She glanced over at the man uneasily.

“Wait, do you know him?” I asked. “Do you know something about what happened today?”

“I’ll get Oena,” the woman muttered, striding out the door.

“Wait,” I called. “Don’t just leave. I asked you a question!” I turned back to the man. He was staring at me like he wanted to say something but was holding back. “Please, you have to tell me. I need to understand what happened.” I pulled against my restraints.

“Stop,” the man said. “I’ll untie you. Talk to Oena when she gets here. It’s not my place.”

“Who’s Oena? Are you guys PAE? Is this some kind of training facility?”

The man grunted. “We’re not PAE.”

“Then who are you, and what are you doing in the Tombs? Aren’t you afraid of getting infected?”

“It’s not true what they tell you about the contamination,” he said, walking behind me. I heard a laser crackle to life and a moment later the binds fell from my wrists. “There hasn’t been a documented case in ten years,” he continued. “That’s not what gets you killed down here.”

I took a few steps back from him, wary. “Then what
does
?”