The Renegades (The Superiors) (28 page)

Chapter 40

For
the next ten days, they remained on the rooftop. Twice Draven ate at a
food-line, which required no identity scan but allowed only one ration per
person until the supply had been exhausted. Once, he used the community shower
set up in the center with the food line. Though Cali required more frequent
cleansing, he could not bring her without signing both their death sentences. No
one who owned a sap would eat at a food-line. And she would be irresistible,
one food source among a hundred starving men and women. That the outcome would
prove disastrous was not worth questioning.

So
Cali stayed on the rooftop, and for the most part, Draven stayed with her. Even
after settling on the highest rooftop in a block of industrial buildings, many
loomed higher in other sectors of the city, so they could not afford to draw
attention by building a fire. Draven worked to maintain a layer of snow on the
tent for the first few days, making a sort of makeshift igloo around the bottom
of it, although he did not fare as well at the top. Still, he hoped the black
tent piled with dirty snow did not stand out from the pipes when seen from any
distance. He worried more about Cali, who had managed to slip out several times
during the day without waking him. She made no mentions of her excursions, and
after some consideration, Draven decided to refrain from comment. She had to
rid herself of waste somehow. He could not expect her to lie in the dark all
day while he slept. And when he slept, all Superiors slept, so he had little
cause for concern on that matter.

After
the first few days, most of the snow had melted, but they continued to camp on
the rooftop. Draven stole a bit more food for Cali and a pair of self-warming
gloves for himself, which he used to keep his hands limber between climbs. He
was reluctant to leave the semi-hidden spot on the roof, despite the loud
industrial noises that remained constant from the first bell to the last. Besides
hiding them, the piping offered another advantage. Heat had blackened most of
the pipes, and when the snow melted, it revealed a black surface as well. The
pipes, the roof, and the black tent all gathered heat, which sometimes lasted
far into the evening. If Cali refrained from opening the tent too often, they
could stay quite comfortable inside. At night, steam wet the outside of the
tent and sent streams of water trickling down it, freezing in ridges around the
bottom of the tent by morning. But the steam kept them warm during the night,
although it made a slushy wet mess of the snow for the first few days.

Cali
did not appreciate the rooftops as he did, since she could not enjoy their
benefits, and even Draven knew they could not stay. Eventually, someone would inspect
the roof for one reason or another. Already he worried about the solar robots,
which he knew little of, including if they could report information to their
company or only deposit collected energy. Despite such concerns, each night he
left Cali for a few hours, as long as he dared, and searched for a more
suitable place to spend the winter. At first, he considered trying to find an
empty apartment in which to nest. But neighbors would see him or savor Cali and
ask questions, and the building’s owner would soon hear of the illegal nesters.
Though Draven had heard of Illegals nesting in apartments, he did not know how
they managed it.

He
had not yet found a place for them when they were forced to leave the roof. On
their tenth day on the factory building, nature stole their source of comfort
and reason to stay. They awoke that evening to find the sides of the tent bowing
inwards towards their sleeping bodies.

“What
happened?” Cali asked, shining the flashlight around the tent, which had reduced
in size considerably.

“Snow,”
Draven said.

Cali
unzipped the door to exit, and a pile of snow collapsed into the tent. A rush
of icy air barreled in with it. “I’m so sorry,” Cali said, snatching handfuls
of the soft powder and throwing it out, glancing at Draven between handfuls.

“Go
relieve yourself,” Draven said, motioning her out so he could shake the snow
from the sleep sacks. Perhaps ten centimeters had fallen outside while they
slept, whitening the roof, the sky, and the city around them. Flakes continued
to fall, not in the serene way they sometimes drifted down, but plummeting in
sharp, angry lines.

Cali
returned and slipped into the tent, zipping it behind her before thrusting her
shivering legs into her sleep sack. She switched on her flashlight. “What are
we gonna do?”

“We
should leave,” Draven said. “It will only grow colder. I imagine it’s imprudent
to stay here longer. Someone could discover us any night.”

“Who
would find us up here? You think someone else comes up here?”

“Oh,
I don’t know. Perhaps…a maintenance man, the factory owner, workers who wish to
steal a bit of time.”

“I
wish snow wasn’t cold,” Cali said. “It’s so pretty.”

Draven
chuckled and turned to sit opposite her in the small tent. “Always everything
is pretty to you. Wait a few days until it’s grey and trodden in the city. It’s
only beautiful in the mountains.”

“So
what do we do? Go back to the place with the mistresses?”

“It
was raided.”

“But
they left, right? The…raiders?”

Draven
smiled. “Yes. But they may have it under surveillance.” Because of him. Because
he was suspicious, or because he had impersonated an Enforcer. Again he cursed
himself for that unwise choice. Perhaps the raid would not have taken place at
all had he not angered the desk woman. Although Enforcers had shut down the
place, she’d have found another job the next night—a person willing to what she
had would likely do anything—and it seemed too much a coincidence that a raid had
taken place on the one day Draven stayed. If the desk woman had been angry
enough to call a raid on her workplace, she would have included every
incriminating detail about Draven, from the fact that he brought his own sap to
the treasonous impersonation to the fact that he refused to pay. By now, they
had perhaps already concluded that it was Draven and begun hunting him in this
new place.

Cali
sat scratching old bug bites on her legs for a bit before going on. “Was that
room for…renting humans to…mate with?”

“Yes.”

“That’s
what I thought,” she said, sliding her hands into her jumpsuit to scratch at
her waist and hips. “Well, I guess thanks for not…wanting to mate with me.”

He
smiled and shook his head. “Yes, well. That would be illegal, and dangerous,
and wrong.” Kneeling, he had to stoop so as not to bump the sagging tent. He
began to gather their gear. Only a small charge remained in his self-heating
gloves, but he had nothing better. “Stay here tonight,” he said as he tugged a
pair of denim trousers over his linen pair.

“Where
are you going?” Cali asked. “Are you going to be gone all night?”

“Perhaps.
You will be safe,” he said, although he did not like to leave her. “The snow
hides the tent. Do not remove it.”

He
zipped his jacket and pulled the hood over his head. Though thin, the material
contained plastic foil threads sewn throughout, making it the warmest garment
he owned. He pulled on the gloves, now radiating a dull heat. A few hours in
the sun would recharge their heating properties, but the ominous clouds
afforded little hope of that opportunity arriving before their heat supply was
depleted.

“Wait,”
Cali said, reaching to stop him before he could unzip the tent.

“Yes?”

“I
just…wondered where you’re going.” Her eyes dropped to her fingers, which had
closed over one of his gloved hands.

“I
will find a place and for us and return before daylight.”

“Oh,”
she said, pinching a bit of the material of his glove between her thumb and
finger. She rolled it back and forth as if fascinated by the material. “What is
this stuff?” she asked.

He
chuckled and removed her hand from his. “Be discreet,” he said. When she gave
him a blank look, he added, “When you leave the tent to…for any reason.”

“Oh,”
she said, pushing her hands under her thighs so she sat on them. “Okay. Well,
be safe. I mean…” She shrugged and began rocking slightly, her eyes on the
bulge her knees made inside the sleep sack. “Be careful.”

He
leaned towards her as if to kiss her lowered head, but thought better of it and
squeezed her shoulder instead. “Always.”

Slipping
from the tent, he entered the white world outside and began his slippery,
treacherous journey around the outskirts of the city. After his second fall
from a rooftop, he stayed at street level, moving quickly but avoiding traffic.
By early evening, plows had cleared only the main throughways of new snow. Most
people had taken below-ground transportation, and Draven could move in relative
obscurity if he avoided the portals disgorging people from the earth.

For
a moment, he considered making some attempt to smuggle Cali into a below-ground
terminal. Once there, they would be protected from severe weather and extreme
cold, and have access to thousands of miles of tunnels, intersecting at
thriving terminals where they could board trains, charge electronics, conduct various
types of business, even purchase vehicles to be shipped out on one of the
trains. These thriving centers of commerce, called Cloves, provided nearly
every service the above-ground cities did, from clothing stores, restaurants,
and beautification booths to mechanics, sex shops, and dance clubs. Nearly all clubs
had descended to below ground by now, to accommodate those who wished to
continue dancing once the sun rose. The one thing Cloves didn’t offer was
housing.

Still,
a person could have gone years without leaving the underground networks if not
for the rigid security at every checkpoint and the roaming guards, usually
Enforcers-in-training who had yet to prove their worth and whose goal was
earning credibility by maintaining the strictest order. They were notorious for
their harsh treatment of Thirds and diligence in combing the extensive travel
network for security threats and Illegals. Even if Draven could have secreted
Cali in somehow, within minutes someone would accost him, demanding papers of
every conceivable sort. Long ago, Illegals had ceased any attempt at nesting in
the underground networks, favoring the unkempt outskirts of cities where they
rarely encountered Enforcers and had ample escape routes. With its reputation
for cleanliness bordering on sterility, military order and hostility to Thirds,
use of the underground networks had fallen mostly to Seconds. Thirds too
impoverished or unfortunate to maintain a vehicle—but still in good standing
with the system—also used the network, most confining their activity to tense
rides on the heavily patrolled trains.

Draven
watched a mob of people flood from an outlet hub surrounded by four factories.
Thirds, unable to use the roads until cleared, were forced to use the
underground trains for this evening’s commute. He wondered how many had been
intercepted by Enforcers before passing the security checks required to both
enter and exit the underground. Draven slipped behind a building and moved on,
not wanting the crowd to notice him standing apart with no intention of joining
their work crews.

By
dawn, he had found no desirable living situation, but he kept his word and returned
to collapse the tent and bring Cali to their new home. His jaw set in grim
determination, he asked for Cali’s warmth, ignoring her sounds of discomfort
and consternation as he opened her jumpsuit and slid his hands, so frigid they
had stiffened into claws, against her bare, warm belly. When he had regained
mobility in his hands, he made the descent, scrambling for traction in his wet
boots. On his first trip down, he tore open his glove, and the finger within,
on the stiff edge of a sheet of paneling. He managed to retrieve Cali and the
remainder of their things without further mishap, and could only hope snow or
rain would erase the blood he’d left smeared on the building.

At
street level, he sat sucking his finger until the skin formed a tentative seal
over the wound. Ignoring the continuing pain, he hoisted Cali and the backpacks
and set off, squinting even through his sunshades at the blinding landscape
blazing before them in the morning sunlight. Weaving through deserted back
alleys in the seam circling the sectors, he skirted the city, passing through
only the service sector to avoid the area where the combination of neon light
and artificial dark signaled the inevitable presence of daycrawlers and
drifters.

Late
that morning, another snowstorm hit, replacing the searing light with a deluge
of snow intent on obscuring every sector of the city cleared the previous
night. Weighed down by Cali and all their gear, and slowed by the wearying task
of plowing through snow that lay a meter high and obscured any obstacle underfoot,
it took Draven most of the day to make his way to the shamefully inadequate refuge
he had resorted to for their next residence.

When
at last they reached the eastern edge of the city, an older section of the transfiguration
sector with run-down buildings scattered some distance apart, Draven set Cali
down to rest. She had fallen silent midway through the day, much to the relief
of Draven’s hammering head. Any sound beyond his feet packing the powdery snow was
nearly unbearable. The target camping spot hadn’t seemed far when he’d come in
the night, but the daylight headache, and its accompanying weakness, only added
to the exhaustion brought on by lack of adequate nourishment and sleep.

Perhaps
he had missed the spot. The blowing snow provided little visibility, and even the
heavy cloud cover could not dispel his disorientation. He considered retracing
his steps, but knew the snow had already erased them. It blew so thick he could
only just see Cali, who sat hunched beside him, bundled in his foil-laced
jacket and all the clothing she could fit under it.