Outcasts (21 page)

A chill ran over Shaylinn. “There are people here who have parents?”

“Everyone has parents, shimmer, whether they admit it or not. I just happen to have been raised by mine. Bender is my dad.”

Dad.
A term she’d never heard a Safe Lander use. But if Rewl was Bender’s son, of course he’d claim his father’s innocence. But what if he
was
innocent? Maybe Chord had been working for Otley. Maybe Rewl and Bender were the good people.

She needed to speak to Kendall.

“I like you, Shaylinn,” Rewl said, his voice low. He scooted close, right up next to her, leaving only an inch of air between them. “You’re kind and beautiful.”

Why did she only ever hear she was beautiful from drunk men or men she didn’t like? “I’m pregnant,” she said, hoping that would make Rewl stop saying such things.

His breathy laugh warmed her ear. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

This confused her. What did he want? Only to dance? “I want to get out now.”

Rewl sighed and leaned back against the seat. “Okay, femme.” He rapped his knuckles against the dark glass separating the front seat from the back. The car slowed to a stop. “Thanks for the talk, shimmer. Think about dancing sometime. I’ll find you.”

Shaylinn’s door slid open, and she jumped out without a backward glance. The car sped away. Tears flooded her eyes, relief that she was free.

She was standing in the parking lot of the Paradise, almost exactly where Rewl had grabbed her. Should she tell anyone what had happened?

What if Rewl had been telling the truth? Maybe he was a good guy. And if she stopped delivering the messages, maybe Rewl would leave her alone.

She started to cry. She’d been so stupid to think she could make a difference, do something good. All she’d done was put herself in danger. And now she had to be careful getting home because Rewl could be watching. If she was going to keep this up, she needed to find a new way to and from the cabin. A way that Rewl couldn’t follow.

T
ry it,” Zane said.

Omar tapped “voice” on his flexible Wyndo wristband, then said, “The Owl sees. Trust the Owl.” His voice came out magnified, deep and distorted, from speakers Zane had installed in his new helmet and gloves. Perfect! He grinned at Zane. “It works!”

“Of course it works,” Zane said. “Now toggle back to me.”

Omar tapped “nest” and said, “Owl to the nest. Do you hear me?”

“Excellent.” Zane’s voice came through the SimTalk implant in Omar’s ear as simply as if he had used it to tap anyone.

They were in a secret room in the basement of Zane’s house in the Midlands, a room filled with computers and guns — both killers and stunners. Omar was sitting on a chair before a green wall, which Zane said would enable him to project any image behind Omar. Across the tiny room, Zane sat before a GlassTop desk. A Wyndo wall screen covered the length of the wall above him. Zane had assured Omar that this was the ideal location for their base of operations — or “the nest,” as he’d been calling it. The Owl was about to make his first broadcast to the Safe Lands.

“We ready, then?” Omar asked.

“I think so. I can only hack the ColorCast for thirty seconds at a time before they can track me. We can’t let them find us, so if I have to, I’ll pull the feed early. Read your lines from the Wyndo wall screen, and I’ll do the rest. Now put your voice back on.”

Omar tapped “voice” again, and when he said, “Ready,” it came out amplified and deep. His heart was racing, but it was pure adrenaline. When Renzor and Otley saw this broadcast, they would be furious.

“Okay, Owl,” Zane said. “You’re live in three, two, one.” He pointed at Omar and nodded.

Omar took a deep breath and read from the wall screen. “This is not an error. The Messenger Owl has truth to deliver to the people of the Safe Lands. Truth brings freedom. Listen well. Liberations are not filmed live. They are prerecorded and edited so you hear only what the Guild wants you to hear. This ColorCast is a tool for the Safe Lands Guild to tell lies. The Owl speaks the truth. There are not nine lives, but one. Make yours count.”

“Done.” Zane jumped up, fists raised in the air. “That was perfect!”

Omar relaxed and pulled off his mask, unable to stop smiling. The Owl was real now — to the people of the Safe Lands, at least. A real vigilante. A messenger of truth.

“We’ll do that every day at different times so they won’t know when to expect it,” Zane said. “Messenger Owl. Stimming brilliant.”

Omar felt free and worthy, like he was making a contribution for the first time in his life, like he mattered. Only one thing nagged him. “If this mysterious messenger person has been sending notes to people beside me, the enforcers might go after him, thinking he’s the Owl.”

“Then we’d better find out who he is and warn him,” Zane said. “Rewl’s in charge of sending Bender’s messages. He’s probably already looking into this mysterious messenger’s business.”

“But we’re not telling Rewl about the Owl.”

“No way. Rewl and Bender can’t know. I can’t trust them anymore.”

“Agreed.” Omar still wasn’t sure what to say about Levi if he ran into Rewl or Bender. He was supposed to say that Levi made other arrangements, but that just seemed like fighting words. At least now
Omar had his own way of fighting. He could do so much as the Owl that Omar Strong could never do. “That was fun — the broadcast. But is it enough?”

“It’s a good start. People are going to see it on their Wyndos and wonder what just happened. Plus you’re going to do a graffiti patrol each day to keep the marks fresh, and one sighting, right?”

Zane wanted Omar to be seen in person somewhere every day. “I’m doing Midlands West today,” Omar said.

“Good. But it will get old fast. Safe Landers are all about the next big thing. We have to keep this, you know, new and different. So let’s talk about where we’re taking this thing. Creating doubt and unrest in the people is great, but I know what it’s like to live here. People might doubt the Guild, but besides the rebel groups, no one does anything about it. The Owl speaks to everyone, and that will unify doubts. But we need to build on it each week. Toward something huge.”

“An assassination? Renzor or Otley?” Omar would love to see either go down.

“That would certainly get people’s attention,” Zane said. “You going to do it? Because as much as I hate them both, I could never go out and kill someone — unless they were shooting at me first. I’m just being honest here.”

Omar wanted to say that he could, but it would be a lie. His one act of aggression against Levi still haunted him. And Levi hadn’t bothered to have anyone fix his nose, so his face constantly reminded Omar of how he’d betrayed everyone.

“Lonn was always saying the rebels need to unite,” Zane said. “He used to say the different groups were like flocks of birds. We were all pecking, but if we pecked at the same time, we might actually make a difference.”

Made sense. “That kind of talk is great for rallying people, but someone needs to be in charge for that to work, and Bender can’t be the guy in charge.” Even if Bender believed that as enforcer general he could do some good, Otley would betray him. Bender was a fool to
think he could trust that animal. “We need to use our heads. We need a lynchpin.”

“What’s that?” Zane asked.

“It’s a fastener that keeps a wheel from falling off the axle — on a vehicle. The point is, a lynchpin is tiny compared to a vehicle. But without it, the vehicle is useless. We need to find something small that, when taken out, the lack of it will cause the Safe Lands to fall.”

“Like taking a can from the bottom of a stack of cans?”

“Exactly.” The mere idea of finding the right thing thrilled Omar. “So what can’t people live without?”

“Same as everywhere. Water. Food.”

“And where does all that come from?”

“Water from the dam. Food … from the Lowlands, I guess.”

The Lowlands. Omar had never been there. “Sounds like we’ve got some investigating to do. If we can figure out how to stop the water or the food, people will get desperate — the government included.”

“It’s worth a try,” Zane said, spinning on his chair to face his GlassTop. “I’ll ask around.”

That night Omar went out and painted more graffiti. When he returned to the nest, Zane was limping from green screen to GlassTop.

“We’ve got a problem,” Zane said. “I tapped Rewl and asked about this mystery messenger. It’s Shaylinn.”

Hearing her name made Omar tremble. “That’s mad. How can it be Shaylinn?”

“She delivered about twenty messages this week. Started at the Larkspur and worked her way across downtown. Spends a lot of time at Kendall Collin’s apartment. Rewl said he picked her up a few days ago and tried to scare her into stopping, but she’s still at it.”

“He ‘picked her up’?” What did
that
mean? “How did he scare her?”

“Didn’t say. But he did say she makes her deliveries at night.”

Omar couldn’t believe it. Shay wandering the Safe Lands in the
middle of the night? How could Jordan not know? “I shouldn’t have used her name. ‘Messenger,’ I mean. I put her in danger.” Rewl must think that Shay was the Owl.

“Nah. She did that to herself before you came along. Why don’t you drop by the Belleview tomorrow night? Rewl said she gets there about one a.m., though he can’t figure out where she’s coming from. Wants to know where Levi’s got everybody stashed. Rewl says she goes into theater nine when she’s done, so she must be coming into the city through the storm drains. You should warn her that Rewl is trying to track her. I’d hate for her to run into him underground.”

“If she didn’t listen to Rewl, why would she listen to me?”

“You’re the guy from home. The daddy of her babies. And, if she still won’t listen, you could always tell Jordan.”

“Yeah, she’d love that,” Omar said. “But you’re right. That would end it.”

The next night, Omar waited in an alley across the street from the Belleview. Sure enough, at 1:06 a.m. Shay came walking down the street. Alone. She’d changed so much since they’d come here. She was no longer the chubby shadow of his cousin Penelope. She might only be fourteen, but she didn’t look it. That hair alone would turn any man’s head. And if she were out walking alone every night, any creep could grab her. Rewl already had.

He didn’t like the idea of Rewl watching her, much less “picking her up” and trying to scare her. She should at least put her hair up under a hat or something.

He still couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. What was he going to say to her about that? Did he have to say anything? Couldn’t he wait until the kids got here?

Why was he such a coward?

The moment she entered the building, Omar crossed the street. Apartments in the Midlands weren’t like those in the Highlands. No
doormen. Some had SimLocks on the entry door, but most were broken and never got repaired. He shuddered to think what things might be like in the Lowlands.

Omar slipped inside the Belleview in time to see Shay’s boots turn on the landing halfway up the first flight of stairs. He crept behind her, not eager to see Kendall again after what Red had told her at the train station. Every time he turned around he seemed to face a new humiliation.

This too shall pass.

He smiled at the words from Shay’s note. Her words had done him good, yet here he came to put an end to her good deeds. It didn’t seem right.

He peeked around the landing and saw Shay standing outside Kendall’s door. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to do something good in this place. In fact, he admired her for trying.

When the door swung open, Omar ran for it, not bothering to be quiet. Halfway through the doorway, Shay turned, eyes wide. Kendall stood behind her, staring at him too.

“Omar?” Shay’s eyebrows sank low over her eyes. They were sculpted now where they used to be thick.

“Let’s get inside, shall we?” He put his hand on her waist and walked into Kendall’s apartment, pulling Shay along. She felt odd in his arms. Thicker where Red had been all bones. Healthy. Nice.

“What are you doing here?” Shay asked, looking from him to Kendall and back. “Do you come here a lot?”

Oh. She thought something was going on between him and Kendall. Maybe that was good. Then if something did happen …

Curse his foul mind. Why couldn’t he stay focused? He was here to help Shay, not himself.

A low squawk made him jump. He’d forgotten that Kendall had a bird. He walked straight for the window where a black, art deco wire cage with a scalloped top sat on a narrow table. The bird was small and bright like the colors of his paints. He had a tantalizing turquoise belly, a custard-cream head, a purple moon beak, and
black-and-white-striped wings. “Hello, angel,” Omar said in a soft voice. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

“He’s a boy,” Kendall said. “His name is Basil.”

“You’ve never been here before?” Shaylinn asked, her words tinged with hope.

Omar kept his eyes on the bird. “No.” He wanted to look at her, but he was thankful this fluttery little distraction gave him an excuse to gather his courage first. “He’s a parrot?”

“A parakeet, actually,” Kendall said. “I was told he was a
budgie
, but … I don’t really know what that means.”

“Budgie. Budgie. Basil’s a budgie,” the bird said, his voice soft and raspy.

A thrill ran through Omar. “He talks!”

“What time is it? Give me a kiss. Tch tch tch.” The bird’s beak barely moved, but he jerked his head from side to side in quick movements.

Omar laughed, which only egged Basil on.

“Budgie. Basil’s a budgie. Give us a kiss. Tch tch tch. Juice off, Lawten. Juice off! You’re a shell! Tch tch tch.”

That got Omar’s attention. He straightened and focused his wide-eyed surprise on Kendall. “
Lawten
? As in Task Director General Lawten Renzor?”

Kendall shrugged like it didn’t matter that the bird had insulted the ruler of the Safe Lands. “He picks up most anything he hears. It doesn’t have to be from me.”

“Sure.” Omar grinned and tapped the cage with his fingers. The bird’s glassy eyes twitched at the sound. “Where’d you get him?”