Steel Lily ARC (3 page)

He smiled and shrugged, his spiked hair waving as he shook his head. “I was just stopping by to say hi to Alice. I figured you were at home, you know, after last week’s little adventure.”

I shuddered as I remembered being huddled behind the dumpster to avoid being caught out by the Polatzi. The little black legs of cockroaches had scuttled across my legs and covered me in writhing black bodies. It took everything in me not to scream. Legs had drawn the Polatzi the other direction at the last moment by causing a commotion. I was lucky he’d been there. “I’d rather not get comfortable with the cockroaches again anytime soon, and you don’t need to have any more run-ins with the Polatzi. You better have something good to trade. I’m in a hurry. There’s not much time before curfew, and I need to see Alice.”

His nickname was true to his form. Legs was my age—fifteen—and supporting his little sister while his father drank his way into oblivion. Legs’s pants were too short and his clothes were tattered. Everything he owned was in need of repair; the patches on his shirt needed re-patching. I’d never seen his entire face. He always wore something over his nose and mouth, even on days when the oxygen levels were good and we didn’t need to wear oxygen masks.

His shoulders slumped. “I hate to admit this, but I’m hungry.”

“Everyone’s hungry,” I said, digging into my satchel. “Is business down?”

He nodded. “No one’s looking for specialty items any more. Only bare necessities, and LaFayette Market is thick with traders for that stuff.”

I dug deep in my bag, pushing personal items out of the way. At the bottom were a couple cogs. The cold brass slid across my fingertips as I pulled them from the satchel. “Here,” I dropped three cogs into his palm. “That’s all I’ve got. Can you trade these to get what you need? I don’t have any cash.”

Legs nodded and glanced back toward the market. “Yeah. Thanks, Pike. Sorry I had to ask.”

The humidity bore down on us like a thick blanket, and sweat wound down his forehead when he leaned into me. “I heard the Polatzi are running another sweep tonight. Be careful, you hear? Check on Alice to make sure she’s set, but then go home.”

“Sure thing,” I said, knowing that was impossible. Wutherford Tower Estates wasn’t my home. I hadn’t been home in years. “What about you? Do you need a place to hide? You know the military doesn’t take lightly to people straying out.”

Legs waved away my offer and shrugged. “I’m laying low in the foyer of the house next door to Alice. A couple other sellers are squatting there, and they said it’s safe. The past couple sweeps, the Polatzi breezed right past.” He tugged on a stray hair that had escaped from under my beanie. “You’re the one that should be worried. If your hair was any redder, it could be a neon sign.”

“I wear hats,” I joked, slapping his hand away. “Take care of yourself, Legs.”

He laughed and turned to leave. “Thanks for caring, but you definitely still owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’ll never get out from under the oppression of your debt.”

He waved before he crossed the street and disappeared into the bustling sea of vendors. I knew he would end up trading the cogs for food for his sister, and go hungry himself. His determination to take care of his family made me proud.

I pushed around the dumpster. The gritty smell of overripe fruit and mold hung heavy in the air, and not even my shirt over my nose blocked out the scent. I ran my hand along the ground-level window ledge, slipped through, and into the dark, damp basement.

My fingers fumbled with the gas lamp. Sallow light cast long shadows across the small room, throwing hodge-podge of boxes and broken furniture into sharp relief. Alice and I constantly tossed old junk down here. Anyone who looked would assume this place was a dumpsite. So far it had worked. No one suspected anyone lived on the main floor.

I avoided the sixth wooden stair, which creaked with age. Excitement had me taking the remaining steps two at a time until I reached the landing. I didn’t even bother to knock before unlocking the door. It grated against the tile floor, and I tried to shut it as fast as I could. The rubber hosing wiggled in protest as I fought with it, sealing the door back. All of the windows were fashioned the same way; it was necessary to keep out the bad air on days that the Dome turned off the oxygen purifiers and made us wear masks.

I tossed my things on the countertop and smiled when I caught sight of Alice in the living room, peeking over the far end of the couch. Her face was leaner; her bright eyes now duller than when we’d first met as children playing in each other’s yards. But all the same, she was still my vivacious Alice. Still the one person I could count on through thick and thin.

She was as close to family as I had.

“Avery!” she said with a nervous laugh as she stood up. “You scared me to death.”

I grinned. “Sorry. Did you really think I’d miss your birthday?” I handed her the box of needles. “Happy birthday. I know it’s not much but—“

She squealed with delight and wrapped me in a bear hug. “But nothing! They’re amazing!”

She took a new needle out, threaded it, and returned to her latest sewing project with a satisfied sigh. The needle wove in and out of the fabric, leaving no trace of human error. Her craftsmanship was better than any sewing machine I’d ever seen. “What are you making now?”

“Well,” she said, her eyes never leaving the pins that marked her way like a roadmap, “I was trying to make Legs a pair of pants that actually fit him. Last week he brought me bread when I ran out of money.” She glanced over the fabric. “I could make you a nice dress if you’d let me, you know.”

I shook my head and laughed. “If you had your way, you’d dress me in a tu-tu.”

In one fluid motion, Alice grabbed the nearest cushion and launched it my direction. It flew past my head and connected with the side of the refrigerator. Some of the colorful United States of America magnets rained down and clattered on the floor.

I chuckled. “Good thing we don’t need your aim to keep us alive.”

“Bite me.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges. Sheets of inky black hair fell around her naturally tan face as she focused on the pants again. “I guess you’ll want to get back to your house soon, right? So no one sees you leaving?”

I plopped down on the arm of the couch. A plume of dust clouded the air, making me sneeze. Yet another perk of furniture shopping in condemned housing. I picked at a hole in the fabric, pulling out a thin strand of filler.

Hot tingles prickled my insides, setting my nerves on edge. “Legs told me that the Polatzi are doing another sweep tonight. Keep away from the windows, okay?”

Alice paled, fear etched into her otherwise perfect features. “Already? They did one last week. Do you think they’ll find me?”

“Of course not.” I said, placing a hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Have they found you yet? You’re careful. They aren’t going to find you.”

As if the Polatzi had heard me making a promise I couldn’t keep, the worn carpet rumbled under our feet. Alice’s face paled as the vibration turned into a low drone that quickly became a roar. Bits of plaster fell from the ceiling.

The hovercrafts were outside.

“It’s not curfew yet!” she cried as she ran to get the lights, “Why are they here? The sun hasn’t gone down!”

My stomach sank as the steady pounding of footsteps echoed along the road. Then it happened.

Heavy thuds of boots hit the wet cement of the basement, and then someone hit the sixth step on the stairs. Moments later the wood snapped, giving way under the abuse.

I tried to think of a way to escape, but we were trapped. It was dusk, I was on the wrong end of town, and the Polatzi would break the door down any minute.

So much for fate being on my side today.

CHAPTER

THREE

“Oh God, Avery, we’re screwed!”

Alice scrambled to open the hidden nook we’d created behind the dilapidated bookshelf for a situation like this. Books tumbled from the crooked shelves and pages flew from the tattered old spines, littering the wood floor. She threw her tiny frame against the side of the shelf again, each time with a grunt. If the Polatzi wondered if someone lived here, their suspicions were confirmed by the racket. “Avery, come on. Help me!”

Panic welled in my chest. The thought of the Polatzi bursting through the door was almost paralyzing, but I couldn’t let them get Alice. I ran to her aid, and together we pushed the shelf to the side.

A tiny crevice barely big enough for one of us came into view. An old blanket and pillow lay at the back of the nook, holes in the cloth chewed away by moths. The musty scent of wet wood and disuse filled my nostrils, but that didn’t make me pause.

The turning of the locked basement door handle did.

“Alice, go,” I said as I shoved her into the tiny space and began to push the shelf back in place.

Alice’s eyes grew wide. “What are you doing? You can fit. We’ll squeeze—”

“No, we won’t,” I argued, the bookshelf grinding against the wooden floor, “I’m not the one that’ll get arrested and end up God knows where. Stay quiet and don’t come out until it’s been silent for at least an hour. You know the Polatzi linger.”

Before she could argue, a yell sounded from below, followed by gunshots.

“What the hell…” Alice whispered through the remaining crack, her shadowy figure leaning toward me.

The muscles in my legs burned as I crawled toward the kitchen. “I don’t know. Let me go listen.”

“No! It might be a trick.”

“Do you think they’d waste stunning bullets to trick us?”

Alice said nothing, and the scuffling downstairs became louder. The sound of boxes and junk getting tossed around echoed up the stairs, and I pressed my ear against the cool metal lining of the door to try to get a better listen.

“What were you doing down here, squatter?” An unfamiliar voice questioned.

A squatter? Downstairs? Alice and I were the only ones here. Who had the misfortune to hide down there tonight?

Then
his
voice floated up the stairs. It was Legs.

“I was running late getting home,” he said in a muffled tone.
“I saw you good soldiers coming down the road and panicked. Slipped in here. Didn’t think you’d take well to me being on the street.”

“And you thought we wouldn’t find you? It looks like you’ve been here quite a while, what with all the shit you’ve got down here. Do you have buddies upstairs?”

“No, Sir, just me. No friends.”

A cold laugh echoed. “Of course not. Who’d want to be friends with a scab like you?”

What sounded like a punch and then Legs groaning floated up the stairs. I cringed. A warm hand rested on my shoulder, and I jumped. “Shhh!” Alice whispered as she covered my mouth. She nodded toward the door and mouthed,
“Who’s down there?”

“Legs.”

Alice’s mouth formed an O, and it was my turn to cover her mouth. We both pressed our ears to the door, glued to the spot in horror.

My stomach lurched as Legs cried out in pain from another blow. “I’ve seen you in the market before, selling junk that nobody wants,” a Polatzi said, “so where’s your stash? Are you going to give us anything of use?”

Another punch. Legs coughed and gasped for breath. Alice covered her ears. I squeezed my eyes shut in hopes to block out the world.

It only took me back to the day Alice and I came home from the market to find my home in disarray. My desperate attempts to get in the house. The Polatzi stopping me; Legs watching it all from across the street as his parents pulled him into the house and shut the door. We had been the first wave of people from outside of Detroit to make it to the Dome, and our homes were all situated together. Who could have imagined we would be forced to live on our own, to grow up so quickly, in such a grotesque way. Our lives had forever been changed by the war. Alice and Legs, forced to survive without family for their own reasons and me, forced to give of myself until the government felt I’d given enough.

Damn radiation.

If only my parents and I hadn’t gone on that vacation to Indianapolis. If only the bomb hadn’t hit a mile away. If only we could have gotten away quicker.

If only we hadn’t been exposed.

Alice gripped my shoulders and shook me. “Avery, don’t you dare cry; they’ll hear you.”

I opened my eyes and saw Alice had gone into self-preservation mode. Steps sounded up the stairs once more, and the voice of the Polatzi came closer. “Legs, is it? You’ll sit there if you know what’s good for you while I go check and see what you’ve got upstairs. Jennings, watch him. We haven’t hit this house before; there might be something good. Effing Governor doesn’t pay us well enough to deal with Traditionals.”

“Yes, Sir.”

We scuttled away from the door as fast as we could, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. The door shuddered under the weight of the Polatzi on the other side trying to break it down.

We should have squeezed into that nook when Legs gave us extra time. But why had he come? He was safe over in the other house. What was he playing at?

“Hey, stop that! Stop, I tell you! No! Officer Patton, Sir! We’ve got a runner!” The voice from the man named Jennings hollered.

The tumble of junk and then a loud
oomph!
filled the air. Expletives—from whom, I wasn’t sure—followed.

“This little twat bit me!” yelled Jennings.

I sucked in the manic laughter that filled me. That’d show them, dirty Polatzi. Legs wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Alice shook me. “Avery, run! This is your chance to get out. Legs is gonna keep them busy. I’ll hide. It’ll be fine.”

Her urgency brought back my guilt. Pain and remorse filled my chest, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. “I didn’t mean for this happen. I came right here after the market. It was still light; I thought there was time. I wanted to see you on your birthday—”

Alice cut me off. “I know. Just go. Get out of the housing district and—”

The droning roar of a hovercraft shook the house and cut off Alice. She and I crept to the kitchen window and peeked through the wooden boards. Lights from the hovercraft flooded the alley with merciless blaze. A dozen black jackets gleamed in the limited light. Each one was tailored, marking the rank of the person by a specially designed cog with engravings. Their molded masks were made of leather and steel, honed in the center like the beak of some perverse bird of prey. A visceral shudder ripped through me at the sight of them.