Ghosts of Koa, The First Book of Ezekiel (32 page)

"Wow. Seriously?" Phoebe was obviously disturbed by Zeika's silence. Too jealous, maybe, to even begin to understand what this meant. "I thought you might be a bit more grateful. But I guess there's no bottom to the well that holds the Anon pride, is there?" Her smile had disappeared, the perfectly-glossed-up lips now wrinkled with condescension.

"If only you had the courage to drop your bucket and share in such a bounty," Zeika whispered, the words finally surfacing. "Do you even know what he's trying to do? To us, to our demesne? Did you
know
about the Arcticles39? Or do you just not give a shit?"

Phoebe looked at her, pretty and yet dumbfounded, unable to make the connection.

"Tell Sal I said thanks but no thanks," Zeika seethed. "I don't dine naked with the devil."

Phoebe stared at her, floored. Caleb was also still looking at her-- calm, mildly interested. She could see the smallest of smiles on his face.

"And while you're at it--" Zeika continued. "--you can ask him to adopt you instead. Don't forget to speak using the lips you've got flapping south of the border. That's the only language you two would have in common."

"Ouch..." Caleb muttered, smirking.

Phoebe's jaw dropped, and blinking in shock, she turned on her heels and pit-patted her way out, prissy clipboard and all.

Zeika put her face in her hands. She and Manja needed to get out of here, find a safe haven from this madness, and she knew there was only one place to go. They were leaving, now, and she didn't give a crap if Phoebe, the Guild, or even Caleb had objections. She slid Manja off her carefully, got up, and ripped the IV from her arm.

"Woah, relax!" Caleb turned and grabbed her good arm. "You keep moving around like that, and you
will
pass out. Calm down."

"The Guild isn't safe. I need to get Manja out of here. Both of us. We-- We can't--" She put a fist to her mouth. "We can't stay here. Please. Take us home. We need to go home."

Caleb's eyes were pinched with wanting. "I can't take you. Not without Taitt here. You're a ward of the state."

"Caleb, please."

"I can't, kid."

She locked her jaw, and whatever emotions she felt, she forced them back. Tears couldn't happen, not now. "Our parents left us. They left. And the Ninkashi monsters, the Articles39, Sal. But most important, if you let him take us, you will never see us again. He's wrong. There is something wrong with him. You know why he's adopting us. You know."
 

Caleb didn't respond, but there was a struggle in his face. Zeika wasn't sure who Sal was to him in Azure world. Maybe Caleb was like Phoebe, who wouldn't understand why a poor, abandoned Civilian wouldn't want to live with a rich Azure, a rising councilman of the Fifth Demesne, even. Maybe he'd think she was being too prideful.

"Let's put the Articles39 to the side for a second, okay? And I want you to focus just on Sal. What do you mean by 'something's wrong with him'? Has he done anything to you or your family?" Caleb's questions weren't accusatory, but they were careful and gentle, like a doctor with a patient. "You can tell me. Whatever I can do to help you, I'll do it. I'll take care of it."

He meant it. She could feel it. She wanted to tell him everything: about Mama's affair, about Sal's wandering eyes, about his threats to her family, but no matter how hard she tried, the words didn't come out. She felt shame, as though maybe-- maybe this was all her fault somehow. Like maybe she had brought all this on her and Manja. That's what the Azures would say. And what could Caleb do?
 

Even if he did slap some cuffs on Sal what would come of it? He'd charge Sal with what? With being a philanthropist? A civil servant to a hostile demesne during times of war? That's how the media would spin it. The Azures would laugh in both their faces, demote Caleb, and slap a label on
her
. She'd be a total outcast, a "liar", and then that's when Sal's real fun would begin. She'd be trapped, maybe even forced to use her powers if he tried to hurt her again. And then... No, there was no other choice but to run. So she straightened up, looking at Caleb full on.
 

"He hasn't done anything," she lied. "I just... I don't feel safe not having my father around. Please help us get out of here. Don't let him take us."

Caleb gazed at her for a long time. He didn't look entirely put off, but his warm bedside manner had extinguished beneath the most sober look she'd ever seen. "Put on some clothes, and wake the kid," he said finally. "We're out of here in five minutes."

He left the room, and she took in a deep and steady breath, the fingers in her left hand finally beginning to twitch.
 

Caleb liked tacos, cheesy horror movies, and really loved cop work. He'd made designated marksman for his squad in the 52
^nd
, and even alluded to having done some solo sniper work, though the details he gave were sparse. Apparently, his precinct had cleaned up the Fifty-Second so well that he'd hit promotion and had worked beats as a detective, and a successful one at that. Until about 18 months ago. She listened, more intrigued than she wanted to admit. Despite his accomplishments, he was actually pretty humble as far as Azures went. He credited a lot of his success to his teammates and training officers.

"There's more to marksmanship than just pulling the trigger. There's gravity, velocity, wind speed. There's quite a bit of math involved, and so being a Druid helps. Higher-ups often look for Alchemists with Druidic training when they're recruiting for SWAT in Azure demesnes," he explained.

"Oh." Zeika leaned her head against her front seat window.
 

Caleb caught her expression and smirked. "Thanks for sounding so riveted, kid."

She turned her eyes down. "I'm sorry, I'm still a little--"

"Yeah. You should open the glove compartment."

She didn't know why, but she felt her cheeks flush. "I-- I'm not much of an open person."

"Wasn't a metaphor." He nodded at the dashboard.

Oh. She reached, popped it open, and pulled out a gun. Her gun. And the clip had been refilled. Her eyes widened.

"You dropped that," Caleb said.

"You took it from the scene of a crime? You're not really much of a cop, are you?"

"What's a cop?"

Zeika made a face. "I'm breaking the law by having this. We
both
are."

"I'm already breaking the law by taking you from the Guild. Everyone breaks the law, Zeika. Not always by choice." Caleb leaned forward to check the street and then made a right turn. "Ah shit. Fantastic," he muttered.

She leaned too, to see what he was seeing: a row of barricades scattered across Castle Hill Road, dotted with APs with automatic weapons. She eased her gun deep into her robes, into her jeans' belt, and sat back, careful not to move too quickly. She cast a quick glance into the back seat. Manja was awake, clutching her teddy bear bag as she scrambled to one window and looked out.

Caleb slowed down, rolling his window down as an AP approached. Another came around to Zeika's side. A third, along with a few others, stared at the car from the barricade, some with their fingers on triggers.

"License and registration, sir," the cop at Caleb's window requested.

"Oh, well look who it is!" The AP at Zeika's window was looking at her with a douchey smirk that she recognized all too well.

"Awesome," she muttered, leaning her head back against the seat.
 

It was that AP Kirk Donovan, the one who had harassed her at the Converge.

"So this is the Azure horn, eh, civvie? Hows the tootin' going? Very well, apparently." Kirk leaned in and looked at her with a lopsided smile. "Guess you wouldn't mind if I frisk you then, am I right?"

Zeika pulled on her hood, never looking at him. "If it'd help your three-incher get ready for lift-off, then hey, grope away. I'm all for helping the needy."

"Better watch your mouth, you little c--"

"Hey, you're not talking to her, you're talking to me, all right?" Caleb snapped. "Back off." He pulled out his badge, and Zeika saw a change come over both APs' smug expressions. Kirk's especially.

"You again! You're a blue?" Kirk stood up straight, startled. A high color formed in his cheeks. "Sorry about that, detective."

"Yeah, no shit," Caleb frowned. "What's up with the extra tight security?"

"Quarantine," the AP at his window replied. "It's because of those damned Ninkashi. This is the last time anyone will be crossing over to anywhere."

"Does security include harassing Civilians?"

Kirk backed away from Zeika's window, hands up. "Sorry. We just have to be extra careful nowadays. Now that the Protecteds are barricaded, small smuggling businesses are popping up. Literally over night."

Zeika did all she could to not register this information on her face. She pretended to study the lines on her hands as Caleb exchanged more terse words with the APs, finally ending the conversation with information on how to get to where they needed to go. Zeika didn't look up as he rolled up his windows and pulled off, almost swiping one AP with the car.

When they were on their way again, she felt Caleb's eyes on her. "Do APs always speak like that to you?"

She shrugged. "Guess so. We're already two-for-two. That's just this month, though. I stopped keeping track years ago."

Caleb didn't say anything more but looked lost in his own thoughts. They remained silent until they reached Lot 3. As he pulled up, his mouth turned down. The rows and rows of huts stood like tin soldiers on the dust and gravel. Not a soul in sight.

"You really expect me to believe that you've been hanging out here while you've been bunking at the Guild?" He looked at her with narrowed eyes.

Zeika looked away.

"Kid, I know you don't trust me. But do me a favor and take a look at my actions for a sec, all right? Forget the fact that I'm Azure-- and just judge me on what I do."

Zeika bit her lip, struggling. She spared another glance back at Manja. Then she looked at him. "All right," she relented. "I'll show you. But we walk from here. No cars. No noise."

"Fair enough."

They got out, and he popped the trunk while Zeika hoisted Manja out and put her on her hip. Caleb took out a duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder before slamming the trunk closed. They began to walk, with Zeika taking the lead.
 

Suddenly, Caleb stiffened and stopped. He looked far off to his left. Then his right.
 

She raised a brow. "You all right?"

"Yeah..." he muttered, still looking distracted. He searched the distance a little more before finally turning back to her. "Yeah, let's go."
 

They smiled at each other. Uneasily, but it was the best anyone could do. Readjusting Manja on her hip, Zeika led the way.

*
*
*
*
*

"Stand here, and don't move, okay?"

Caleb looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She had led him into the old Botanical Gardens, to one of the large, stone fountains. The water had long since dried up, but the snow had piled high, and he was standing nearly calf-deep in the middle of it, looking like a tall bird in a frozen bath.

"Don't worry," she giggled. "I won't leave you here looking stupid, I promise. We'll be back."

"Yeah, it's a secret! Just wait!"
 

Manja had taken her usual position on Zeika's back. She smiled wide and for whatever reason was grabbing Zeika's ears. Apparently, having Caleb come to see the Forge was the new candyland.
 

They waved at him before walking away, and Zeika couldn't help but feel bad at the pang of innocence in his eyes. It might take him a little bit to figure it out, but they weren't coming back. The Forge was the last safe place they had left; no one could know where it was.

They traipsed through the gardens until they reached the Observatory, and though Zeika had seen it hundreds of times, she always felt her heart soften in awe at its dilapidated beauty. The dome reigned high above the 250-acre grounds. Most its windows had been shattered, and the dusty glass still remained sprinkled along the floor as the shimmering snow fell in, creating high banks. The trees and bushes within had long since expired, serving only as pit stops for migrating birds.
 

They passed through as carefully as they could, trying to avoid getting pooped on by the perching crows.

"Can we use the holey gate again, Zeeky? That was fun!"

"Yeah, tons of fun, kid."

Zeika snorted, remembering the incident clearly. About a year ago, she and Manja had locked themselves out of their own shop. She'd just worked double shift at the Diner and had lagged on getting to their entrance on time. The entry code only worked twice every 24 hours, so they couldn't get access. She'd been forced to turn the ventilation grating into canvas to get in, and they'd had to crawl a good ten minutes through the air system just to get inside of the Forge's cellar. Re-crafting the grating, reinstalling it, and then getting her and the kid clean had been another three-hour pain-in-ass task.

"Well can we?"

"No, baby. Only in emergencies."

"Aw!"

When they got to the middle of the fifth rose bed, Zeika knelt at one of the dry, greenless weed patches. She weaved her hand in between the barbed brambles and brushed away the icy powder and dirt from the roots. She brushed until all that shone up at her was a dusty number console. She punched in her birthday, 0229, and at once, she could hear the slow grind of rock moving in the distance.
 

She buried the console beneath the snow and dirt, jumped to her feet, and dashed out of the Observatory, with Manja bobbing around on her back. Manja curled her arms and legs more tightly around Zeika's torso and leaned in, making their separate weights one. Zeika skipped over fences and slid over patches of glistening slick, flying to the front entrance of the Botanical Gardens. Manja giggled as she hung on.
 

"Go, Zeeky! Faster, faster, faster!" She cheered.