Feed the Machine (17 page)

She moved across town from shadow to shadow, stopping on corners and looking for deputies hiding in the dark but she was still being hasty. It was almost two and Garrick had a patrol to complete. There was only a small window before he’d have to move on.

She cut down a street, walking in the light for a good thirty seconds and then moved into the dark again. The sounds of the Gold Door carried through the night air. Any men and women in there had been solidly drinking for hours now. She could hear laughing and loud slurred voices as bragging men tried to talk over one another. She turned again, putting some distance between her and the Gold Door. Apart from law there would be a few drunks wandering their way home and she didn’t want to meet any of them.

The closer she came to the storeroom the louder her breath seemed, the more her heart thudded. She could feel it pulsing in her neck. Like her plan to get out of work, this scheme to get the key wasn’t fully formed and relied on a lot of luck. Seduce Garrick and steal the key off him? Threaten him with the knife, tie him up, get the key? She preferred the latter to the former but if it came to sucking cock to keep them free and alive then she’d do what she had to.

She stopped two buildings down and saw Garrick standing in the shadow behind the storeroom. The buildings in this area were close together and back to back with alleys barely two people wide running between them. They were also dark and far enough away from homes and the pub that hopefully no one would hear whatever went down.

Nola adjusted her clothing and took out the knife she’d stolen from the pub. It had a brown wooden handle and a silver serrated blade. Burl had etched
Wire Pub
into the handle at some point. The blade still carried the scent of partially ripened goat’s cheese. Nola rubbed her finger on it and then sucked it into her mouth. She hadn’t eaten all day, apart from the earlier stolen fragment and between the bar fight and sneaking through the dark she was riding the thrumming edge of adrenaline, knowing that as soon as this was over she’d probably collapse.

She slipped the knife back into her skirt, on the side for easier access and then took a deep breath.

“Get the key, steal the platinum. Tie him up if it gets bad. Be quick. Okay.”

She slipped out of the darkness and crept down the buildings until she reached Garrick. He was leaning against the wall, just like last time. He still smelled of old cooking oil.

“Hey Garrick,” she said, putting as much sex into her voice as she could manage.

Despite trying to calm herself, her heart was still thudding and she felt the chill of the night air against her body. Her sweat was turning cold.

“Nola,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground.

She stepped closer to him and wrapped her hands around his waist. The keys were in his pocket, attached to his belt by a thin cord.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?”

He looked down at her, frowning and then over her shoulder.

The fear leapt but it was too late. A body pressed against her from behind, a hand covering her mouth, an arm under her breasts.

“Don’t scream Nola,” the man holding her whispered in her ear. She smelled alcohol and meat, more old oil. She knew the voice though—Carter, Danton’s dog who followed him everywhere.

As though summoned by the thought of his name, Danton stepped out of the shadows and came towards them.

He held up his reattached hand and wriggled his fingers in her face.

“Take some medicine, it’s good as new.”

He moved his hand down, stroked it in her cleavage.

“Garrick tells me that you came here to fuck him. Is that true?”

Carter took his hand off her mouth and down to her throat. He was big and strong and his hand felt rough against her skin. She knew if she moved too fast he’d close it and crush her throat.

“I’m just—”

Her voice cracked with fear. Her mouth was dry. She cleared her throat and tried again, spinning a lie out of nowhere.

“Hey guys, c’mon. I’m here to see my boyfriend.”

She looked at Garrick and smiled but it felt more like a grimace. Danton turned on Garrick.

“Is she your girlfriend? You’re in love with a shit-eater?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Garrick mumbled at the ground.

“Ah, so the shit-eater is full of shit. What a surprise.”

Danton stepped closer and thrust his fingers between her legs so hard it hurt. Nola gasped in pain.

“You gonna get nice and wet for us?”

“Look, let—”

“We’re not letting you go. If you scream, we have a gag to put in your mouth.”

The knife was digging into her side but there was no way she’d be able to use it now. Carter held her from behind, his arm across her chest, his hand clenching her throat. Danton still had his fingers between her legs, digging into her. If this went any further, they’d find the knife for sure.

She summoned the vamp who worked at the bar and felt a sly smile come across her face.

“I’d rather you boys put something else in my mouth.”

“Oh hoo! Fuck me, you are a slut.”

Danton grinned and pulled his fingers away from her. She arched her back and rubbed her ass against Carter, feeling his cock straining against his pants. She turned her head and let out a quiet moan, moving her ass again.

“Let me kneel down,” she whispered.

He let her go and her hand stole down behind her to grab the bulge in his pants. She moved him around to her side as she sunk to the ground.

Danton was already undoing the laces of his pants and Carter followed. Their eyes were dark, filled with hunger.

“Over here pussy and get it out,” Danton demanded, briefly turning to Garrick.

Garrick came over, head down and unlaced his pants, hesitantly pulling out his cock. He was soft, unlike the other two.

Nola looked up at Danton.

“You in my mouth, Carter in my hand and Garrick in the other. Then we’ll get to fucking. Come closer.”

The three men moved closer as Nola opened her mouth. Her right hand stole down to her skirt and under it, taking hold of the knife.

“Suck it you slut,” Danton said, holding his cock out, inches from her mouth.

Nola jerked her head forward, headbutting him in the balls. She pulled the knife out and jammed it in Carter’s gut. He let out a soft groan as she ripped it out of him. She stabbed Danton in the same place, the serrated edges of the knife pulling flesh with it as it came back out. Carter fell, unconscious. Danton dropped, gasping in agony.

Nola leapt up and pointed the knife at Garrick. He stepped back and fell over, landing on his ass.

“I’m sorry Nola. Someone saw you today and they made me tell. I’m sorry.”

Danton was groaning, curled in a ball. Carter was silent—unconscious or dead she didn’t know.

“Give me the storeroom key.”

She waved the bloody knife in his direction as Garrick got to his feet.

“I can’t. I’ll get—”

She lunged forward, holding the knife out. Garrick backed away, thudding against the storeroom.

“Give me the key right now or I’ll cut off your dick and make you eat it.”

The rage boiled. She wanted to stab him, spill his guts, kill the rapists but there was no time. Who knew who else they’d told? The longer this took, the less chance she had of success.

Garrick fumbled at his belt, struggling with the cord tied to his belt. Nola smacked his hand away and cut the cord with the knife, snatching the key from his hand.

“Now take off your belt,” she commanded.

She saw him glance over her shoulder—the second time tonight—and she whirled around. Danton was on his feet, the wound in his belly gone.

“Still had that medicine in me slut,” he hissed and lunged forward.

She swung the knife in reflex, slicing his throat open, the blade digging to the bone but it didn’t stop him. Danton crashed into her and they went down, a hot wash of blood splashing her face and chest.

His grip was agony, his fingers iron but somehow he went from on top of her to under her. She was stabbing him with the knife, over and over. His face, his ruined neck, frantic, mindless. She stabbed him in the chest, the knife piercing bone and sticking in his heart. Danton kicked once and then died with a gurgle, blood bubbling on his lips.

A wave of weakness hit her then. She tried to pull the knife out but it was stuck. No time to waste.

Garrick.

He was gone.

She climbed off Danton and realized she still had the key in her hand. She’d clenched it so hard it had cut into her palm.

Leaving Carter for dead, she hobbled on shaking legs around to the front of the building. The key wouldn’t go in, couldn’t get it in the hole, hands trembling, covered in slick blood.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She took a breath and focused on the lock, sliding the key in and turning it. She went too far—the key snapped off but the door opened, swinging out.

She entered, looking for a solar light but there was none. The only light was seeping in through the door. She pushed it wide and turned around. The room was full of barrels stacked across the back wall. On both sides were shelves with piles of bars. On a higher shelf were plastic cylinders.

She rushed to the shelf.

“Iron, iron, aluminum, fuck,” she muttered, moving along in the dark.

Fat Man smelted his finds into neat bars, marking each of them with his symbol and a letter. She needed platinum—it was worth the most.

Nola moved down to the next shelf and kept moving until she hit a pile of bars etched with PL.

Platinum. Bars of it.

She took two—more than enough to keep them away from absolute zero and bolted, the heavy bars pressed against her chest. She wished she could carry more but she was too weak from hunger, from terror—and she had to get away. Garrick had run and was probably returning now with thugs who’d take her in. Then she’d never be seen again. No one who stole from Fat Man was.

Nola was two streets away rushing in the dark, the weakness of hunger pulling at her, when she felt the wetness of her clothes sticking to her. Danton’s blood cooling in the night.

Part of her mind was screaming—get to the Machine and put them in!—but the rest was weaving a lie in case she had to face the Sheriff. Garrick her boyfriend. The rapists attacking. Defending herself. I have no idea who took the storeroom key.

No, that wouldn’t work.

Garrick promising her money for stolen goat cheese. It was a trap, they were rapists. She fought them off and ran. Garrick is lying that I took the storeroom key.

She moved as silently as she could but she wasn’t checking for deputies now. She had to get to the Machine. She could pay off the quota, leave town tomorrow, heading for Char and then onward. Toll wouldn’t bother to chase her further than the next town.

The Machine was in the center of the town surrounded by a ring of empty space. It was lit on all four sides by the lights around Cago. Nola stopped in the dark and looked around for deputies. If she was trying to stop thieves this is where she’d wait.

A noise in the distance—a low horn—coming from the direction of the storeroom.

“Fuck!” Nola swore.

She bolted out of the dark, running across the lit space towards the Machine. She was nearly there when her feet tangled together as something wrapped around her legs. Nola crashed to the ground, landing on the platinum. One of the bars spun away across the ground. It was streaked with blood.

She looked up and saw her name on the screen. She was close enough that it had detected her collar. The chute opened, ready to swallow the bar.

“I’m sorry Nola, I can’t let you do that.”

She rolled over. It was Jarrah, the deputy. There was a bola wrapped around her legs. She sat up and started unwinding it.

“Let me go. I have to put this in.”

The other platinum bar sat next to her, sticky with blood.

“It’s not yours. You stole it from Fat Man.”

Nola tugged at the bola but it only twisted more over itself.

“Please, please just help me. We’re gonna go absolute zero. He won’t even know. He has entire rooms full of this. Please Jarrah.”

“I can’t.”

“Fuck you then!”

He stepped towards her. She turned, grabbed the platinum bar and hurled it at the Machine. It hit the side of the chute and thudded to the ground. Jarrah put his arms around her body and pulled her back from the Machine into the darkness. A moment later a silver bug crept out of the chute and landed on the ground. It hissed at them.

“Get out of here.”

He untied the bola. She could hear shouts in the distance. Maybe Garrick. Maybe the Sheriff.

“They tried to rape me. I defended myself.”

“Home, now!”

Nola looked at the Machine and the hissing bug defending it. She couldn’t get close now. More bugs would come out and if they were angry, they’d chase her through Cago until she collapsed and they ripped her apart.