Feed the Machine (28 page)

Michael snorted.

No one laughed.

Chapter 45

Nola

It was approaching midnight when Tirrel groped her and she dropped the serving tray she was carrying. Three tall glasses of beer shattered on the floor and she cursed. Gardner was on her immediately, dragging her away from the mess and into the back room.

“You do not swear at customers.”

Nola’s heart was pounding. She’d nearly taken a swing at Tirrel and when Gardner grabbed her? It had taken a lot to hold back.

“Answer me!”

Gardner lunged at her, her teeth bared.

“Yes boss!”

“If Tirrel grabs your ass then all you do is smile and make him feel good. Any dropped drinks from now on are going to be charged double to your family debt.”

“Yes boss.”

Nola focused on getting her breath back, trying to calm herself. She kept her eyes down—if she looked at Gardner there was a good chance Nola would attack her—but everywhere she looked there was a weapon. The back room was a sort of office. There was a ceramic cup sitting on the desk. A metal ruler with a sharp edge. The desk itself was solid with pointy corners. Nola looked down at her feet.

“You people never learn,” Gardner said to herself.

“Yes boss,” Nola said. Keep it calm. Defuse.

“Are you telling me you do learn? Ah, fuck it. Candle get in here.”

Candle was a wall of a man, heavy muscles hidden under inches of fat. A few nights ago he’d lifted a rowdy customer by the neck with one arm and hurled him out the front door.

“Take her to room three-oh-six. Make sure she stays there. Guard the door.”

Gardner moved closer to Nola.

“I’m going to be sending men all night for you to fuck. If you don’t then say goodbye to your brother and sister.”

Nola didn’t get to answer. Candle looped his arm around her waist and lifted her like she weighed nothing. He carried her up the stairs to the third floor and to room number six. He put her down by the bed and left her there, positioning himself outside in the corridor.

As soon as he closed the door Nola ran to the window. It only opened a little—there was a nail driven into the frame stopping it rising further. She wouldn’t be able to slip out. Outside there was a narrow ledge and another building adjoining on the corner. If she could get out then maybe she could make it across to the other roof and find a way down. Hide out until sunrise, collect the family and bolt for Char. Keep moving until they were far away. Take Silver’s tablet with them. Get rich. Find some other way to reveal Fat Man’s collar collection.

She heard drunken laughing below and someone cheered.

The room was small—a single bed, a small side table with a lamp. A tiny bathroom was off to the side separated by a thin curtain. There were taps with running water, a bowl for washing and a towel. Nothing else.

“Fucking fuck!”

Back to the bedroom. The side table was made of wood but bolted to the floor. Maybe she could snap it off but it wouldn’t make much of a weapon. Nola returned to the window. The nail was sticking out but it was firmly in place.

Another cheer from below and a crash. Someone else yelled and swore. Another crash. There was a fight.

Nola pulled up the sheet covering the bed and wrapped it around her fist. She went to the window and waited for the next crash. As soon as it came she punched the window. The glass broke, a small piece dropping out to land on the ledge. Nola pulled the broken glass out of the window frame, protecting herself with the sheet. She stashed the long shards under the bed. Soon the window was clear enough to climb through. She was about to go through when she heard drunken slurring outside the door. Candle talking with someone. They were coming in!

She threw the sheet out the window and moved to the side. Candle opened the door and an old fat man came staggering in. Candle slammed the door shut behind him without saying a word.

The old man reeked of alcohol and sweat. At some point in the night he’d spilled food down his clothes and rubbed it in. He looked at Nola and grinned—yellow teeth and not many of them—before flopping down on the bed on his back.

“Help me boots,” he slurred. His pants were tied with twine. He was struggling to undo them.

Nola moved to the end of the bed and undid his boots. They were laced with twine too. He wore rotting gray socks. The stench was unbelievable.

The drunk managed to get his pants undone. He flopped on the bed a few times as he wriggled them down. Nola was already trying not to breathe and then she smelled his skin. A red rash spread down both legs and around his groin. There were white pus-filled sores dotted everywhere, leaking or looking like they were about to burst. Some had from him pulling down his pants. The rash extended to the fold under his enormous fat stomach. Nola saw it was streaked with black—dirt or mold maybe.

He had sores all over his flaccid penis.

“Suck it,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and putting his hands on the top of his head.

“I need to get cleaned up, okay baby?”

Nola rushed out to the small bathroom without waiting for an answer. She turned on the water and splashed some of it on her face. She heard the drunk mumble something else but it was lost in the sound of the water.

If she escaped, he’d raise the alarm. Maybe pose near the window, hands on the frame, ass out and when he came near, shove him through it? It was a three-story drop onto stone—that was if you missed the spiked side fence. That would cause a huge commotion and in the chaos she could vanish.

Did he deserve to die because Gardner had sent him?

Nola dried her hands, considered using the towel to strangle him (too small and too noisy with Candle right outside) and took a deep breath. She could do it. Fuck him. Fuck Gardner. Fuck Candle. Fuck Fat Man. She slipped off her shoes—they were impractical for climbing across rooftops. She would have to go barefoot for a while.

Nola pushed the thin curtain aside. The drunk was asleep.

She let out a sigh of relief. If she could get far enough away before he awoke, perhaps she’d make it.

She laid the towel over the window and stepped through.

The night was cold and she shivered. She was wearing her flimsy bar uniform and it didn’t cover much of her skin. Three stories below the fight was continuing. There were more crashes and yelling. She heard Gardner shouting over the noise. Guards were coming to break heads.

The ledge was as wide as her foot. One misstep and she’d be dead. There were plenty of handholds outside—Fat Man had built it with ornate edgings—but they felt flimsy. They were meant to look like curled iron but they were only weak plaster. No time to waste—the fight wouldn’t continue forever and the drunk could wake any moment.

Nola grabbed a handhold. It gave a little.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck,” she repeated as she stepped sideways, holding on to the window with one hand. When she was at full stretch she let go of the window and shuffled her feet across. The plaster creaked under her hands. She couldn’t press her face against the wall because of the plaster. It gave her the feeling she was leaning back too far, about to topple over and fall into the darkness below.

Another handhold, another sideways shuffle. More creaking. She felt for another piece of plaster. It broke into a powdery mess. Nola tapped the plaster until she found a more solid piece. She tested it and took another step. It cracked but didn’t break.

Not far now to the corner. The adjoining roof touched there. It was flat tiles. She glanced across and saw a dark shape move.

“It’s just me,” Hello said.

“Fuck!”

Nola swore at the wall. Her heart was racing. She reached for the next piece of plaster.

“That’s all hollow. Don’t grab it.”

“What?”

She tapped the plaster. It seemed strong enough.

“It’s hollow. It will break if you pull on it.”

“So what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Hello hopped forward to the very edge of the building and looked down.

“Don’t fall.”

“I know that. I need to get where you are. What can you see?”

“There’s a spiky fence below. Can you jump from there to this roof?”

Nola gauged the distance. Still another two meters to the corner.

“Too far.”

Hello hopped sideways and looked down at the building.

“There’s another window a level down. Can you get down there?”

“The ledge is too narrow. Fuck.”

Nola tested the piece of plaster Hello said was hollow. It broke under her fingers. She couldn’t rely on it. If she was closer then she could jump.

“I have an idea. Move so I don’t land on you.”

Hello shuffled down the building.

Nola took a deep breath. The sounds of the fight had subsided. If any guards were out of place to handle it they would soon be returning. It was now or never.

She shuffled her feet across as far as she could, still holding on with one hand.

“If this was a ledge on the ground I could run on it,” she repeated to herself. “Ledge on the ground, ledge on the ground.”

She took another breath and let go, stepping sideways without holding on. She got two steps across before she started to tip backwards. Instead of fighting it she let gravity take her, twisting around and jumping off the ledge. She crashed on the other roof, bashing her knees and stomach.

“Good jump,” Hello said.

Nola stood and turned around. She’d jumped further than she’d imagined and landed a meter in from the edge of the roof.

“Great fucking jump,” she said to Hello.

“That’s what I said,” he muttered.

“Tell me where the guards are and look for any ways I can climb down to the ground. Are any of these buildings empty?”

“Get back here!”

The drunk was at the window, pants still half-undone. He started yelling for the guards.

“Oh shit,” Nola swore and took off across the roof.

It was night but the lights of Cago lit the rooftops in stark shades of black and white. Even the glowing pillar of light over the horizon seemed to be helping her. There were multiple buildings wedged together and she could step across from one to the next. Between some there were gaps—yawning black chasms—but Nola kept reminding herself that she could jump that distance if she were on the ground.

Behind her she heard Gardner shouting and guards shouting back. They were coming for her.

Four buildings away and then five. She kept moving. She was between fence lights, the area a little darker.

“This way,” Hello called out from beside a wide roof vent.

Nola scuttled over to him. The vent was three wooden panels easily removed. Below was a small empty room.

“Anyone in there?”

“Far side of the warehouse. Not here though.”

“Good enough.”

Nola pulled the panels out and lowered herself down into the hole. She hung by her arms for a moment, letting her eyesight adjust until she could see the room was empty. She let go, dropping onto carpet.

It still hurt. Her knees were aching and she knew the only reason her feet weren’t was because of the cold.

Hello fluttered down behind her and pecked at a loose piece of paper in the corner.

“Stop that, help me see if there is anyone around.”

She crept to the door and tried it. It was unlocked. She opened it and looked out into the empty corridor. To the left it hit a dead end. To the right it turned a corner.

Nola slipped out and padded down the corridor on bare feet. She reached the corner and looked around it.

“Oh fuck me,” she whispered.

Where she was standing was a balcony that overlooked a large empty space. The warehouse was long and she was at the dark end. At the light end there was a set of stairs and a group of slaves hauling junk and dropping it off the balcony. The stairs at her end were missing, broken away and the ground was about ten meters below.

Nola moved out from the corner. At least the lights were out, providing her some cover. She looked down into the warehouse and restrained herself from swearing aloud.

It was their hasdee.

Red and shiny and beautiful.

It was also gigantic, standing the height of the balcony at the far end. The panel displaying information was two meters across. The dials and buttons the size of her head.

Down below there were about twenty naked slaves shivering in the cold. They were surrounded by glaring lights and guards who were watching every movement. Someone had rigged a sort of conveyor belt that was connected to a small humming generator. The slaves were dumping junk on the belt which was then lifted to the second story. Then the slaves there dropped it in the hasdee.

As Nola watched, the slaves loaded the last of the junk onto the belt. It reached the upper level and dropped in. Then one of the guards used a long metal rod to press the print button on the hasdee.