Feed the Machine (20 page)

Lightning cracked a reply.

Because he’s a goody-goody who thinks it’s better to be poor and noble than rich and a thief.

“Fucking right he is,” Nola said and drained her beer.

Between her job and Ash scavenging every day, they rarely overlapped. He was asleep when she got home. He was gone with she awoke. She was gone when he returned home.

But they’d talked, whispered conversations in the night, snatched moments up too late or awake too early.

They’d both done the sums months ago, dividing the quota and days remaining and knew that working at the pub and scavenging wasn’t going to cut it. This year they’d go absolute zero unless they had an extraordinary chunk of money come in. Then it was join Fat Man’s family or die.

Nola favored theft but Ash was against it. They’d had a whispered argument about it, Ash naming everyone who’d ever swung from the end of a rope. She’d dared him to think of a better plan but he’d had nothing. Nothing except his stubborn refusal to believe that something would arise. Nola had worn him down though and Ash had agreed to help her if she devised a good plan. She’d kept Garrick to herself, knowing she had to tell Ash at the last moment or he’d spend his time worrying at the plan or lack thereof. But then he’d come home excited and told them that Raj had seen a missile fall in the Scour and they were going out to dig.

“Something always comes up,” he’d whispered to her in the dark.

She’d kept her vague plan to herself. Ash had left with Raj, heading into the Scour. She didn’t even bother arguing it with him. The wealth in Fat Man’s storeroom was certain. Some random hole in the Scour? It would have to be a miracle for it to contain anything good enough to get them warm.

Nola cleaned her bowl and the glass and put them away before turning back to the empty bar. Her feet ached from standing still too long. As soft as Burl was, she suspected he would lose it at her if he caught her sitting in the chairs on the customer side of the bar.

Her gaze drifted across to the ancient cash register. It was mechanical of course, most of the buttons worn clean. It still dinged though when she pressed the big button at the bottom and the drawer slid open. Burl told her that her father had sold it to him—finding it in the Scour and then fixing it. It had been when he’d first come to town with the bastardo troupe.

She pressed the button and the drawer slid out. There were only a few single dollars in there. If customers wanted change, she had to ask Burl. She looked at the paltry notes, touched one, feeling the laminated surface, the tiny ridges and whorls of the raised surface pattern and then closed the drawer.

Too little return for too much risk. She didn’t want to end like Nix.

Not that it mattered anyway. They were deep cold.

They were fucked.

Maybe it was better Ash was out in the Deep Scour. If he’d been there when Danton and Carter grabbed her, who knows what might have happened?

What happened to Carter?

“Fucked if I know,” Nola told the empty bar.

Why didn’t Garrick tell on you?

“He’s in love.”

What is your plan now girl?

The lightning flashed outside, for a moment so bright it was like day and Nola blinked away spots in her vision.

The crack of thunder followed soon after, sounding like a bomb exploding above the pub but to Nola it was distant. She was seeing a glass screen covered in green dots, a single red dot at the bottom and many clustered at the top.

Collars. Who knew how many?

Fat Man knew.

He was the one holding them.

Holding a collar hostage was forbidden, another hanging offense in a long list. A bounty was traditional but not required. What about just holding a collar with no intention of collecting a bounty? Nola didn’t know but surely that was breaking the law.

Lanta Secat had no money but some of the families those collars belonged to did.

Nola sucked her lip and stared at the clean glasses, lost in thought.

How to take advantage of this? The collars were deep within Fat Man’s palace and surrounding buildings. She’d gotten lucky with Garrick but she couldn’t break in there. It was teeming with guards and dogs.

Reveal it to everyone and hope they handed the bounty over to her?

Tell the Sheriff?

“There’s no fucking time,” she muttered, idly lifting the lid off the bowl of fried pap, dropping it back into place.

A fantasy: middle of the night, pouring rain, the Sheriff led by a brave citizen to the hoarded collars. After she throws them out to bereaved families, some of them press money into her hand. She pays off the quota and lives happily ever after.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck.”

On impulse Nola reached under the bar to grab the metal bar Burl kept there to deal with aggressive customers. It was solid and heavy in her hand. It felt good.

What were the chances Fat Man and his goons were expecting a break-in two nights in a row?

The door swung open and a very wet Hefnan staggered in.

“Fuck me that’s cold,” he said, squelching across to her. “What are you doing with that?”

“I’m going to break into Fat Man’s warehouse so my family can get warm. Then tomorrow I’m leaving this shithole forever.”

Hefnan nodded, water dripping off his nose. If Burl was here he’d be having a fit about the droplets of mud and water streaked across the floor.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Crowbar, lock, theft.”

“Need some help?”

He was skinny and his clothes were disintegrating but it might be helpful to have someone else to lookout or carry stolen goods.

“I’m going right now.”

“I’ll meet you over there.”

Hefnan bolted out of the bar before she could tell him to follow her.

Nola didn’t bother telling Burl she was leaving. If this worked she was gone to another town when the gates opened in the morning. If it failed well… it wouldn’t matter.

Chapter 31

Nola was saturated when she stepped outside. The wind was blowing in gusts that changed direction, sometimes even pushing the rain down faster from the sky. Parker glanced at her with a raised eyebrow but she ignored him, not bothering to hide the bar in her hand.

This time there was no Jarrah hiding in the shadows making her divert from her path. No doubt he was out somewhere, huddled next to a building. The storm was a blessing—keeping drunks inside the Golden Door, keeping the law standing in any dry spot they could find.

Nola walked through Cago like the Queen of Violence, the metal bar solid and heavy in her hand. She was soaked to the skin but burning with an internal fire. Fuck Fat Man. Fuck the Machine. Fuck the law. Fuck the world and everyone in it. If any of Fat Man’s thugs came near her she’d crack their skulls open.

She took the direct path to Fat Man’s storerooms, mud squelching around her feet.

She was a street away when a figure loomed out of the darkness. She swung her bar but missed.

“Nola, stop, it’s me!”

Garrick.

She pointed the bar at him, her arm trembling, not with weakness but fury.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“We need to talk.”

He stepped back into the dry shadows.

“No. I’m going now. Fucking Fat Man thug.”

“I saw you murder someone! And I didn’t tell! So give me a fucking minute please!”

Lightning flashed overhead and Nola saw the angry look on his face. In the three weeks she’d been working him he’d been nothing more than a bumbling thug, afraid of being caught, enamored at receiving a young girl’s attention. He’d never raised his voice once.

She stepped out of the rain but stayed far enough away she could swing the bar if she had to.

“We’re all doing what we need to survive.”

“Oh, so that includes working for Fat Man? Beating innocent people? Organizing rape?”

She knew the last accusation wasn’t true, knew that Garrick was bullied and threatened by others who worked for Fat Man but she didn’t care. Fuck him and fuck all of them.

Garrick looked at the ground, his face lost in shadow.

“My family went deep cold sixteen years ago. We joined Fat Man for ten percent and our debt today is as large as it was back then.”

“Fuck your family.”

He stiffened as though he’d been struck.

“I had a sister. She was sick too, a future bastardo. She died when one of the mines collapsed. Then my mother killed herself. I have my entire family’s debt to pay off but I never will.”

Nola shivered. Oddly, being out of the rain was somehow colder than in it. Or perhaps it was the hot fury abating. A dumb thug gaining complexity, knifing her with a sad story.

“Is that what you stopped to tell me? Because I have a storeroom to break into.”

“Take this.” He handed her a folded piece of paper.

Nola opened it. It was a hand-drawn map showing Cago at the center and a series of circles every kilometer or so dotted around the city. The circles were numbered.

“Your brother and his friend are in number sixteen. They’re still alive. You need to get out there to save them.”

“How do you know this?”

“Fat Man’s bugs. They alert him when a trap activates.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Garrick looked down again, frowning.

“Because I—”

He stopped, his eyelids fluttering and swayed on the spot like he was drunk.

Then he stood straight and opened his eyes wide, looking around like a wild animal backed into a corner.

“The gates will open in ten minutes. They will remain open for sixty-two minutes. You must retrieve your brother in that time.”

His voice was different. A slight accent to it, like the bastardos from the far side of Tempest.

“It’s night—the gates are locked.”

“You need to go now. There’s not going to be much time when it happens.”

“When what happens?”

The lights around Cago dimmed and flickered before coming back to full strength.

“Nine minutes now. Why is it so—”

Garrick swayed, his head dropping before he blinked like he’d just awoken. He looked at Nola like he didn’t recognize her.

“Hey Nola,” he slurred. He rubbed his eyes and shook himself. “I have to go now. Maybe when the gates open tomorrow you can get your brother.”

“You said they were opening in nine minutes.”

“What?”

The lights around Cago dimmed again.

“Oh fuck, it’s a countdown.”

“What is?”

Garrick blinked sleepily at her. A trickle of blood came from his nose.

Nola didn’t answer. She was already gone, running in the cold rain, away from the storeroom, towards the gate.

She was halfway there when her mind worked itself free from the alcohol that was still running through her veins. If Ash and Raj were down a hole she needed rope. The lights dimmed and flickered again. If each was a minute, in five minutes the gates would open.

“Nola!”

Hefnan, standing in a dry spot in the dark. He had a small solar light in his hand. A fucking miracle.

Nola slid to a stop near him.

“The gates are about to open and my brother and his friend are trapped down a hole out there. We need rope.”

Hefnan didn’t argue or ask questions. “I’ll get some and meet you at the gate.”

The lights dimmed and flickered again. No time to argue. No time for anything.

“Fuck, okay. But we need to go now!”

She ran for the gate. Hefnan disappeared into the night. As she ran the lights flickered again.

One minute to go.

The guards at the gate were shouting to each other and there were people milling around holding handmade weapons. The power had failed only twice before, years back, but people remembered the threat. All it would take was one hazel to come over the hill to find Cago dark, the crackling electric fence quiet. Then it would call out and bring vicious death running over the hills.

Nola stopped before the gates and then Hefnan appeared out of nowhere, a rope looped over his shoulder. Nola opened the map again, shielding it from the rain with her body.

“We’re going here,” she said, pointing to hole number sixteen.

“Fair enough.”

It was a straight run on a common pathway. She folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket. Nola was still carrying the iron bar—looking like she’d run for the gate with other citizens to protect Cago, not escape it.

The lights dimmed and flickered and then went out. The three gates swung open. Everyone started shouting in the pitch dark.

“C’mon!” Nola yelled but Hefnan was already on the move, the solar light in his hand.

The guards’ shouting about the lights turned to panic as Nola and Hefnan ran out the gates and into the darkness surrounding Cago.