Ghosts of Koa, The First Book of Ezekiel (45 page)

Caleb nodded, finally understanding. A greenhorn. Now he knew why Luke had been chosen for the Protecteds... it was time to bring him up to speed.

"With the Articles39 gone, the Protecteds are about to explode with the greatest number of raids and arrests that we've seen in a long time," Caleb said. "There isn't a legal team alive that will agree to work with you on Civilian cases because they're afraid that they will be accused of treason against the Order. You'll be overwhelmed with the sheer number of civil suits-- that is, if you even get to
see
your cases into court after you wade your way through endless piles of paperwork.

Hours of work. No seeing your family. Forgetting what the sun looks like. Just to realize that Azure courtrooms are no longer sanctuaries of justice, but purgatories for those who have already been condemned. You need to wake up. The accused aren't people, Luke. They're court jesters for men who have deemed themselves gods, and you will be so tired at the end of it all, so jaded, that you'll change. You'll move from being a champion of justice to a plea bargainer, a salesman of death whose only job is to negotiate down its price."

A long silence passed, and Caleb could feel Luke's eyes burning into him.
 

"Give me her full name," Luke said finally.

"Why?"

"Because the grand jury will need it."

Caleb turned to him, slowly, his face darkening as he took in Luke's meaning. Luke straightened. He was serious.

"I'm writing you up, Caleb. I'm bringing charges against you, Cotch, and Persaud for the murder of that girl."

Caleb laughed dryly. "Great. Good luck." He turned back to his window, done.

"No remorse. That'll make a great impact on the judge."

"You can't do anything more to me than what has already been done. Do what you like. I know I did the right thing. If she survived, then the Order thinks she's dead, and she can live her life freely. But if somehow she died in that fire... trust me, Luke, she was better off that way."

May 22
^nd
, twenty days after the Forge arson. A thick and savage dark had laid its hand upon Fifth Demesne, and reaching through the formless ink, Zeika tightened up her weathered boots. Her fingers crocheted the laces together with nimble, soundless jerks. Manja's stomach had growled so loudly that it had woken the both of them from their sleep.

"My tummy," she had whispered. Her voice was weak. "I'm so hungry, Zeeky."

Zeika knew she could get caught, arrested, killed, but it didn't matter. As long as she was alive, she wouldn't let Manja suffer, not if she could do anything about it. She reached into her pack and grabbed a piece of pita and some dried meat, just enough for Manja, and handed it to her, along with one of her medicine pills. That was the last of the food, and they only had three pills left.

"Pack your stuff," Zeika whispered in Arabic. "All of it."

Manja nodded and silently obeyed, getting her teddy bear bag. When the Forge burned three weeks ago, Zeika and Manja moved from shelter to shelter, not daring to stay any longer than a few hours for fear that someone would find them. They would arrive after night when the shelters closed, dodging roaming APs all the way. They would sneak in, usually into the basement or the boiler room where no one went except for the rats and the janitors. Sometimes, they even found canned food or a basement fridge, which was easy to open with their combined powers. They'd sleep for a few hours, and then they'd sneak back out before the sun came up. Darkness cloaked them, protected them.
 

And then, when public curiosity about the arson had finally died, when the police and investigators had finally dispersed, she and Manja had returned to the Forge. Police tape still sectioned off most of the area, but it hadn't taken long to use Manja's beloved "holey gate" to get back into the Forge cellar.
 

Fortunately, the fire had never really reached the cellar, not like she thought it would. Maybe because the fire department had come in time, or maybe because the flames hadn't been strong enough to truly destroy the stone. But whatever had happened, the cellar was in tact, sealed from above by the cinders of her shop, and accessible only through their secret holey gate. The musk of hellfire still hung in the air, sweetened by the dead wood. She doubted anyone would come back here looking for them, but unless they wanted to starve here, they needed to get out and make money.
Today
.

She took out her Beretta from her hidden holster, along with her last clip. Clip was full, and the gun looked in tact. Hopefully, their trip wouldn't involve shooting anyone, or anything, but there was no way she'd leave the gun behind.

"Where are we going?" Manja asked.

"To get money."

"How?"

"Not sure." Zeika chambered a round and checked the safety before stashing it back into her robes. "I don't really have a plan yet."

"It's okay," Manja said. Her voice was stronger now. More alive. "I do." She pointed at the far end of the cellar, and Zeika turned to see Margaret, Manja's flower-covered toolbox, standing open and ready.

*
*
*
*
*

Zeika had picked the alley they were waiting in, and it was perfect. There was a great hiding spot behind a dumpster for her, and a nice fire escape for Manja so that she could get a bird's eye view of the street. The alley bled into John's Street in the Paj district of the Fifth Demesne. It was a street that was paved with colored cobbled stones, and bookended by open market squares. When the markets were closed, though, John's Street was commonly used by commuting Azures as a short-cut back to the Converge.
 

Paj itself had been a small, hippy neighborhood, as hippy as poor folks could get, where wares were made and sold right on the sidewalks. Sun-drenched, warm, popping with the colors of summer. There were also tons of twists and turns, that had transformed Paj into a wonderful maze full of secrets, like the streets of old Venice before the Collapse. Lots of people, including ghosts like her and Manja and Johnny used to hang out there after school or work. It'd been the only place they could "hang their hoods", as the locals would say, and remove their ghost's garb to wear regular clothes for a change. They could always be real kids in Paj.

That was until Lot 41 of Paj, one of the nine lots hit on Koa's raiding day, had been slaughtered down to the last child. Now the whole neighborhood was practically abandoned, more a way station for passing travelers than anything else.

"Psst!"
 

There was Manja's alarm. Zeika poked her head out of the alley just enough so that she could look far down the street. A car was gunning down the narrow lane, about to pass by their alley. It was a super vintage 2014 Cadillac Escalade ESV, the pimp daddy of all luxury trucks. Shiny and metallic-blue. An Azure boy toy for sure. Manja barely made a noise as she climbed down the fire escape and landed next to her. The girl hit the ground just in time to watch the Escalade zoom by, raising up dust in a mini windstorm.

"Oh, isn't it beautiful?" Manja sighed, lovesick.
 

Zeika gazed at it and smiled. A terrible screech tore through the morning air as the Escalade's back wheels suddenly gave out from under the car, flying in different directions. Metal crunched as the bumper slammed into the stones, driving spiderwebs into the back windshield. The driver swerved wildly and stomped the brakes, sending the car into a fishtail, sparks bursting into the air. He slid to a stop at the mouth of John's Street, the back of the car letting out into the empty market. He was only thirty feet away from their hiding spot in the alley. Just as they'd planned.

A few seconds later, the Azure stumbled out of the truck, dazed. When he finally collected himself, he staggered towards the back to assess the damage-- and he collapsed onto his knees, letting out a long mournful wail, crying out to the auto gods.

"Aw poor baby." Zeika snickered, watching the tantrum unfold. "Did I break your toy?"

She turned to Manja. "Time to work your magic, kid."

"Did you have to do
that
one?!" Manja huffed, picking up her toolbox. "It was so pretty!"

"Come on, Manja, it's just a car--"

"It's not just a car! It's love at first sight!"

"Okay. You need to get into character asap, or I swear on everything that's holy..."

Manja grinned at her. Then she put on the puppy face before she skipped over to the car with a prescribed innocence. Zeika watched her, and she slipped her hand into her robes to grip the Beretta. She was just in ear shot when she heard Manja start in.

"Gee, mister, that looks awful bad. Need some help?"

Even from his kneel on the ground, the Azure looked down on Manja and actually frowned. He was examining her, the dirt on her hands, the scuffed edges of her shoes, the wrinkles in her clothes. But what seemed to deepen the frown even more was the wolf-insignia embroidered on the shoulder of her robes.

"Not a chance, squirt." His eyes flickered as his tone rang cold in the air. "You can't do anything anyway. Buzz off."

"But my sister's a mechanic. She can help. And she's fast."

The Azure grumbled to himself and whipped out his wrist, looking at his unnecessarily chunky watch. "How fast? I got stuff to do."

"Twenty minutes, sir. I promise! The damage isn't as bad as you think it is!" And Manja flashed her signature smile, which raised the dimples on her cheeks.

He looked at her, and then at her teddybear fannypack and knapsack, and Zeika could actually see him roll his eyes. Okay, maybe they had done the cuteness overkill, but hell, whatever worked-- and it did. His stern gaze lingered on her smile for a few more moments before he sighed, defeated.

"Fine, go get her. But hurry up, I don't have all day."

Manja ran back and rounded the corner of the alley, where she grabbed Zeika's hand and "dragged" her out into John's Street. For a few seconds, they talked in low voices. Zeika put her hands on her hips, and Manja gesticulated wildly as the Azure watched from far away. It looked like Manja was trying to convince her to come out and help. In truth, though, they were really just talking about what flavor syrup she wanted with her pancakes when this was over.

When the act was done and they met the Azure at the wreck, Zeika did a once over, getting a really good look at him since he'd first broken down. He had blonde silky locks, definitely deep-conditioned. Under the huge brown eyes hung a cleft chin, which in turn, sat on a prime-cut beefy neck. He was built like a linebacker, and his huge ham-hock hands looked like they pounded lunch money out of fat kids on a daily basis. He was wearing one of those super vintage college jackets, complete with the blocky letters and everything. The Cabana Cobras, an Azure college football team from the Twentieth Demesne. Oh lord.
 

Zeika flattened the smirk that threatened her composure. "What's the trouble?"

"Well, what the hell do you think, kid?" The Azure frowned and pointed at the back of his car. "Hello? My ride's totaled. She told me you could fix it."

"Well isn't that a sad story? Tell it walkin', bub!"

"Oh come on!" Manja snapped, pulling at Zeika's robes. "Sorry Mister, she just woke up."

"Okay, okay, whaddya need?" Zeika sighed. "I'm a busy chick." She knelt and opened Manja's toolbox.

He looked at the pink toolbox and raised his eyebrow. "Oh my God. Seriously?"

"Seriously, whaddya mean seriously? What's that? Do I look like a joka to you, honey?"

He huffed and pulled out his cellphone. "What a circus. Forget it, kid. I'm calling the tow guy. Not sure why I didn't earlier--"

"Peh! Yeah, give it a shot, but the tow guy's not coming for you. Not out here."

"That's what you say." The Azure frowned at her. "Now shove off. Take your pink lunchbox and skip on back to your dumpster, or wherever you just came from." The faint ring of the phone filtered out of the earpiece as it connected.

She shook her head. "I just told you, they ain't comin' to Paj, Mister. You're not even supposed to be driving over here. Or did you not notice the Ninkashi nest at the intersection a mile back?"

It's true that no one was supposed to be over here. The quarantine protocol was clear, and it was one of the few rules that went for both Azures
and
Civilians. There was no Ninkashi nest a mile back, though, far as Zeika knew. But he didn't know that. That much was clear by the way his face paled.

"Nest?" His phone was still ringing, but he was looking dead at her, his eyes going wide.

She shrugged. "Yeah, but you seem like a big boy. Even if the Ninkashi do catch you out here, broken down, no protection, I'm sure you can handle them!" She eyed his blue-and-silver lettered college jacket and grinned. "You know, go Cobras!"

A muffled voice began to speak through the phone. "Good morning! You've reached Bag 'em Drag 'em Tow, this is Leila, how can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm over by the Paj district in the Fifth Demesne," the jock started slowly, wincing even as he said it. "John's Street. I need a tow."

A pause. And then-- "I'm sorry, sir, but we no longer service Paj due to quarantine protocol. But I can call the local police station, if you like--"
 

"--and get you arrested for breaking the law!" Zeika imitated Leila's chipper voice as she finished her sentence for her. "Maybe even interrogated as a suspected smuggler, teehee!"

The Azure killed the call. "Look, hey... I didn't really know, you know? I was just passing through!"

"Hey, don't explain it to me. Explain it to the cops when they get here. They'll be making their daily rounds soon." She began to pack up the toolbox. Manja began to help her. "I could have you on your way before they got here, but I think I'll just take your advice and skip on back to my dumpster--"
 

"Okay, wait, wait. Let's not be hasty." He was visibly shaken now, a high-red on his cheeks. "I need your help to get out of here. Like asap. I can pay cash. How much is this gonna cost me?"

She surveyed the damage and shrugged. "783 dollars and 91 cents. Plus tax. Azure dollars."