The Creative Fire: 1 (Ruby's Song) (4 page)

BOOK: The Creative Fire: 1 (Ruby's Song)
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5: The Dangers Inside

Ruby shivered in the cold park as she watched Fox absorb her request. The very act of asking him to take her with him had opened all the possibilities in the world. She could eat well. She could sing. She could advocate for her people.

His jaw tightened.

She lifted her hand, touched his cheek, and let her hand fall again, holding her breath.

When he spoke, he didn’t look at her. “It’s dangerous where I live. You’d be eaten alive.”

Heat flushed her cheeks. “It can’t be more dangerous than this!”

“You don’t understand.”

“I learn fast. I haven’t been killed here yet, or hurt. I haven’t ended up in lockup yet. I’m first in my class.” Damn it, she sounded desperate and young. She took a deep breath. “I’ll do well there, I know I will. I’ll have a better chance of singing—”

He cut her off, laughter licking at the edges of his face in spite of the way his lips were blue with the cold. “You don’t understand.”

“You think I’m not good enough. I am. I can do anything.”

“Shhhhh . . . I know. You’re good, but you don’t understand. What’s dangerous here and what’s dangerous there are different. In my world, people aren’t always nice to each other.”

“Like they are here?” she shot back. “I didn’t tell you the bad parts.”

“Whatever they are, they’re simpler than the risks I live with.”

“I don’t want to be a gray all my life.” She plucked at his shirt. “I want nice clothes, and to sing, and to learn more things. I don’t know who helps run the ship, but it’s not robot jockeys.” Her mind raced. “You could teach me. Help me.”

He shook his head, still looking amused.

Her right hand rested on his shoulder and her left wrapped around him to rest on his chest. She felt hyperaware of every place her body contacted his. She clutched him closer, desperate for a way to convince him. His heart beat under her fingers.

The dangers and the breaking had made her stronger and faster and scared, but now all that fear had run out, leaving her too tired and cold to think as fast as usual. There had to be a way to convince him. If his ankle worked, they’d have gone a long time ago and found more people. Instead, it was just the two of them, nothing and no one else. That, and the cold, and the way the broken park looked surreal all around them made her feel like she was in a dream.

She had to think of something.

A low buzzing sound grew louder. She had taken it for background, but she was wrong.

Fox took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.” A farewell.

She realized the sound was related to a cargo cart so quiet she’d not known what she was hearing. The cart sped just above the paths, the driver moving neither slow nor fast, inexorably growing nearer.

She glanced back at Fox. “You’re welcome,” she whispered, feeling him slip away already. “When will I see you again?”

“Maybe never.”

“Take me with you,” she repeated, hating the slightly desperate edge in her voice.

He didn’t answer, but it felt like he wanted her to come, like something in his gaze told her yes.

She held her breath, drinking in the curve of his cheek, his dark eyelashes resting against pale skin, the specific blue of his eyes.

“Ruby!”

Her head snapped around at the familiar voice. Onor. At first she thought he might be on the cart, but he was on foot, racing toward her across the broken park. She winced. Trust Onor to show up when she didn’t want him, or need him.

Fox’s hand still rested in hers, warm in spite of the cold. He pulled it away, and she had to resist the urge to reach and take it back. He levered himself up, careful of her legs and of his ankle, squinting at the approaching vehicle.

The silver cart’s surface was big and flat, meant for cargo. A driver stood at the back of the cart, balancing and holding on to a steering column in front of him, glancing around as if he expected to be attacked. He wore blue like Fox’s, with a red cap stuck down on his head.

“Dayn,” Fox called out, smiling, looking relieved. He waved him forward.

Onor had stopped a few feet away, watching the approaching cart and driver as well as Ruby and Fox. He looked far more uncertain than Ruby had ever seen him. He could wait. It was Fox she was losing.

She took Fox’s elbow, helping to support him on his hurt foot. She walked with him toward the edge of the path. “How will I know you’re okay?” she whispered, the approaching driver giving her words speed.

“I’ll be fine.”

Fox sounded distracted, as if he’d already left her.

Damn him.

She reached up and grabbed the back of his neck with her left hand, holding him still with her right hand on his waist, his weight off balance and leaning in because of his foot. “I will remember you,” she said. He would leave and she wouldn’t have another chance. “I need you to remember me. Find me.”

He swallowed, his gaze filled with the desire she usually hated men for. But she needed it in Fox, needed him to want her. It was instinct, something that rose all the way from her belly and arced up her back and spine. Warm. Raw.

“Find me,” she repeated.

Dayn had stopped, too, looking almost as confused as Onor.

“I’ll remember you,” Fox said.

He would. Ruby pulled him against her, hard, and kissed him. His lips resisted, cold and thin. She touched them with her tongue, opening them, touching his tongue, which pushed back at her. She gave herself into it, a lick inside him while she pressed him to her. She’d never done this, not so boldly, and it was as if a pillar of fire ran up her belly and her chest and skewered her heart.

Surely he felt it as well. He trembled.

Then his hands clamped down on her arms and he pushed a tiny bit. Reluctantly, she gave in, stepping away from him but taking one of his hands in hers “Do. Do remember me. Ruby.”

He nodded, his voice thick. “Thanks for being here.”

He meant it. If only she had more time, if only Onor hadn’t come right now.

“Fox,” Dayn said. “Leave off your flirting. We have to go. Now.” Dayn gave Ruby a close gaze. She noted curiosity and surprise, like she wasn’t what he expected to find. Or maybe it had been the kiss. She hadn’t expected that, either. Now that it was done, she was surprised at herself. He spoke to both Ruby and Onor. “You two better get, run if you can. You’ve got to evacuate. Get to the train.”

“What?” Ruby asked.

“The train. Before they space the air.”

“I know.” Onor finally spoke, his face red. He looked hard at Ruby. “We have to go.”

Dayn took Fox’s weight, and Ruby let go of Fox completely, her skin suddenly cold. She went and stood by Onor. Neither of them said anything as Dayn helped Fox onto the cart and made sure he had a good grip on the low rail that ran along the side by the driver’s stand.

The cart hissed back the way it had come, still low to the ground, as if its driver expected to lose grav at any time.

 

After Dayn and Fox had gone, Onor pulled her to him, his body and arm stiffer than she expected. “What was that?”

“Do we have a few minutes?”

“Maybe two.”

She pointed up at the rent in the roof of the sky, at the torn fabric of the ceiling and the loose wires and broken pipes that dangled above them.

His mouth fell open.

“We were right. That’s where they came from. Both of them, I’m sure. The hurt man—Fox—he fell from there. There’s shiny robots, shinier than ours, and more, and there were more people, but they all got away to someplace safe. It’s empty now, but it wasn’t.”

Onor licked his lips and stared up. “Did you have to kiss him?” His voice had a tiny bit of hurt in it, which tugged at her. But he was her friend, not her man, and so she ignored it. Besides, in truth, his anger had fled, his face showing only wonderment as he looked up. “Think we can get up there?” he asked.

“How?”

She looked around, but of course there was nothing. “Do you know what happened?”

“Maybe. The Jackman says the ship’s getting old. They’re making people line up and putting them on trains so they can fix this part.”

“Can they fix it?”

“I don’t know.” He was still looking at the roof. An eerie quiet settled around them, with no sirens and no noise except the faint, slow flapping of the ripped material. “We should go,” she whispered. “Besides, I’m cold.”

He took a last look, and then he took her arm. “You’re shivering. We should run.”

They passed through the park’s gates and pounded through the tunnel. It was a relief to be somewhere with lower ceilings and more holds on the wall. If the gravgens failed now, they’d be all right.

They raced through the corridors that led home. As they burst through the opening into the housing rows she lived on with her family, a red stepped in front of them.

He was thick-bodied, older than most reds, familiar. Ruby cursed under her breath and just managed not to run into Onor as he stopped.

“Ben.” She gasped, nearly out of breath from running. “Hi.” Ben had been scolding her and Onor for breaching safety rules since they were kids. If she let Ben tell her no she’d be lost. “I need something for Ma. She’s sick, and she didn’t bring anything with her. I’ve got to get clothes, too. My uniform. I’ll just be a minute.”

Ben narrowed his brows and started to shake his head.

Ruby’s heart sank.

“We won’t be long.” A thin, dark-haired wraith of a girl emerged from behind Ben. “Come on, Ruby. Hurry.” Marcelle looked up at Ben, her most winning smile pasted across her thin face.

The red stared down at her.

“I know. I’m supposed to be at the train,” Marcelle pleaded. “But I was waiting here for Ruby. Let’s go. We’ll hurry. We know the dangers.”

Ruby added, “We won’t go anywhere else. You know our place is nearby.”

Ben stepped aside. “Two minutes.”

“Thank you.” She reached toward him to touch his cheek, then decided he might trap her hand and keep her with him in spite of his step back.

Marcelle darted away, Onor right behind her. In moments, they’d crossed two corridors and turned down another, stopping at Ruby’s door. Ruby held up her hand and the door opened for her. She stopped Marcelle and gave her a hug. “How’d you know where to find me?”

Marcelle grinned. “How do I ever know where to find you?” She pointed to Ruby’s torn shirt. “You weren’t going to let anyone herd you onto a train with nothing to wear.”

Ruby laughed, almost giddy with exhaustion and excitement mixed up together in her body.

“And you’ll want your journal.”

The confrontation in the corridor seemed like days ago now. Ruby clenched her jaw, steeling herself in case the reds hadn’t brought her journal back before the damage started. Thankfully, it lay on the table by the door. She grabbed it and then scooped jewelry from her one private drawer into a bag.

The floor nearly fell out from under her. Marcelle gasped as Ruby lost her footing and slammed into a wall of drawers.

Onor snapped, “Ready?”

Ruby shoved clothes into the bag and grabbed up a uniform shirt in case Ben asked her to show it. “Ready.”

The sirens let out a short, high-pitched burst, and then another, and then they went off in an ululating cry so loud it drove them through the door. “Maybe we won’t get your stuff,” Marcelle told Onor.

“I know.” His face was white and his eyes wide.

They headed into the corridors. Marcelle grabbed her own sack as they passed her door. It bulged even fuller than Ruby’s.

They raced back the way they had come. Ben stepped aside for them like before, but this time he followed them. He’d been waiting. The care and concern his having waited implied touched Ruby. “Thank you,” she whispered to him as she passed.

The old red made a hurry-up gesture, his serious dark eyes and the continuing screech of the sirens driving Ruby to pass Marcelle and Onor and lead them to the transport station.

The sign above the train proclaimed that it would be leaving in two minutes.

A woman from the crèche named Rebeck cried out, over and over, a soul-wounded sound. A pair of red women helped her toward the open doors, the taller of the two saying, “Surely he just got on the first train.”

Cars filled and the station emptied.

As they stepped into the last car, Ruby smelled baby puke and urine when she was sure it should be all oily and clean. The car wasn’t full. One family huddled close to each other near the back. Ben stood near the middle, where he could see everyone.

The train let off a loud squeal, warning that it would be leaving soon. Its dead-machine voice proclaimed, “Doors closing.”

Ruby tugged on Onor’s arm, guiding him into a seat. She strapped the bags she and Marcelle had brought into empty seats on either side of them.

The voice said “Doors—” and stopped.

The doors slid open and two people stumbled in. The young man’s face was so bloody it took Ruby a moment to identify him. Hugh. Lya, his girlfriend, supported his right side, wincing as he leaned on her. Her face was flushed red with exertion and her reddish-blond hair wet with blood and sweat.

“What happened?” Ben asked.

Lya’s voice sounded edgy. “Reds beat him up. We were . . . on our way here and they stopped us and beat him. His skull’s split.”

So they hadn’t left him alone.

Hugh groaned.

Ben held a hand up to calm her, frowning. “Probably just his scalp. What reds?”

Lya spat her words at Ben. “It could have been murder. If they knocked him out we’d still be there. Missed the—”

Hugh said, “Let it be, Lya. You know Ben didn’t do it. Let us by so I can sit down.”

Ben nodded stiffly. “Strap in. I already used most of my medikit, but I’ll look and see if there’s any left on another car after we get going.”

The train repeated its message about the doors closing.

Onor jerked his head toward their seats. “I’ve got fix-all and tape.”

Ben raised an eyebrow at Onor. “Can you handle it?”

Onor nodded, his face white but his eyes determined.

The train’s acceleration pushed Ruby back against the seats. Once it steadied, they unbuckled and began to work on Hugh.

He’d been beat bad.

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