Naomi Grim (The Silver Scythe Chronicles) Part 1 (7 page)

"No way!" Josh argued. "You heard what Bram
said. We're not going to get in trouble."

Keira grabbed her brother's arm. "Bram doesn't
know what he's talking about and he's the last person you should be
listening to. Let's go."

Bram put his hands up. "Listen, if Josh wants
to come along, he should. Let him be a man. Like I said before,
Dunningham won't mind. He'll understand."

I wasn't so sure about that.

Keira let go of Josh's arm probably knowing she
couldn't change her brother's mind. "Fine, but we'd better make it
quick."

We had to pass through a bushy area before
reaching the shallow creek. The other side of the creek was where
Litropolis officially began. Our view of the city was blocked by an
ugly cement wall. There was a place in the wall where the cement
blocks could be taken out and moved for someone to pass through. I
didn't know why Dunningham had never made a move to seal it. Surely
his efficient Watchers had to know about it. I looked around for
one of them, but there were none in sight.

"Great. We have to get our shoes wet?" Keira
asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"I'll carry you over," Bram offered.

Keira pushed him away. "Don't touch me." She
began to tiptoe across the creek and the rest of us
followed.

My leather boots proved to be good protection
from the creek water, so I couldn't complain. We had to walk almost
half a mile down the wall to get to the spot where the stones were
loose.

Bram knelt and grunted as he pushed a cement
block. It dropped with a thud. Josh and Dorian stepped forward to
help, but Bram told them to stand back. He did the same with
several blocks until there was a spot big enough for us to slide
through.

Bram raised his finger at us and then stuck his
head through the space. "Okay, come on," he said before crawling
through. Josh and Dorian followed him. Then Keira and I pulled up
the rear.

I had been to Litropolis once before, but I was
still in awe of what I saw. There were no houses in Litropolis—just
rows and rows of tents or, for the more fortunate, tiny shacks made
from old pieces of wood and tin. There were countless fires blazing
in large tin barrels lining the narrow streets. They had been set
in preparation for nighttime. There was no electricity in
Litropolis. I couldn't imagine how they lived that way.

One of their biggest complaints was how they
had to donate the little lifestones they earned to Nowhere's
Generator Fund, yet their city had no electricity. It was a double
slap. On top of being poor, they had to give part of their meager
earnings to a fund that didn't even benefit them. Their argument
was totally understandable, but I wasn't supposed to be worried
about it.

As we navigated the street, almost everyone we
passed stopped to stare. Of course, no one said anything. Judging
from our clothing, we were obviously from Farrington, and
therefore, above them. The people of Litropolis were draped in
dark-colored rags and cloaks. I remembered that, twice a year, the
Grim Ladies’ Society did a clothing drive to collect people's
unwanted materials to donate to Litropolis. I wondered if I would
spot someone wearing my old clothes.

A group of small, barefooted children ran
around us as they played a game of tag. They took no notice of the
foreigners in their space.

"Bram, where are we going?" I asked after a few
minutes.

"It should be around here somewhere." He
squinted and looked inside the tents as we passed.

"There it is," he said, pointing to a shack a
little ways down. It was the biggest shack I had seen since we'd
arrived in Litropolis.

Josh sneezed. He had really bad allergies.
"Bram, are you sure this place is . . . hygienic?"

Bram shrugged. "It's fine. What's the worst
that can happen? It's not like I'll die. I have six hundred and
forty-nine years left. More on the way."

Bram knocked on the outside of the shack. "Come
in!" a gruff voice shouted.

We had to bend down to enter. A man who
appeared to be in his early thirties, with pale skin and black
dreads, sat on a stool in the corner, cleaning something metal with
a wet rag.

He didn't bother to look at us as we crouched
down, waiting.

Bram cleared his throat. "Excuse me. I'd like
to get a tattoo."

The man looked up and gave us each a long
once-over. "What are you guys doing here? I don't want any
problems."

"I'm not going to cause any problems. I just
want a tattoo and some ear gauge plugs." Before the man could say
anything, Bram removed his hoodie and lay on the man's rickety
reclining chair. He rolled up the sleeve on his right arm. "I'd
like a skull—a really ghastly-looking skull."

The man paused and looked from us to Bram.
"Sure. I could do that." The man pulled a black case from the
corner and opened it up. "You guys can have a seat there," he told
us, pointing to a pile of blankets in the corner. Reluctantly, we
took a seat in the cramped space and watched the man get to work.
"My name is Drake, by the way."

Drake pulled two long, sharp-looking needles
from the case. Bram closed his eyes as Drake got to work. At first
Bram's face was calm as Drake began to carve into his skin. Then
Bram started to grimace. He looked like he was trying very hard to
maintain his tough image and not make a noise. I was sure Bram was
wishing Keira wasn't there to watch. I almost laughed as my brother
bit his lips and pursed them together in an attempt not to scream.
Drake stopped occasionally to rub ink into the lines on Bram's arm.
My desire for a tattoo quickly faded. Why anyone would volunteer to
have someone cut into their skin was beyond me.

Bram lost his sense of pride and began to yell
incessantly. I couldn't watch anymore. I stared at my boots,
attempting to block out his screams.

We sat for what seemed like forever. I smelled
the aroma of food cooking. I wanted to be home. After a while,
Drake stuck some type of white paper over Bram's completed tattoo.
Then he took out a case of ear gauge plugs. Some of them were as
large as my fist, which I thought would look ridiculous in
someone's ears. Thankfully, Bram chose the smallest pair
possible.

This time he actually shed tears as Drake
pierced his ears.

"All right. All done, tough guy."

With his tattoo covered with a white piece of
paper and his freshly plugged ears, Bram slid on his hoodie and
wiped the tears from his face. "Thanks."

"Um… should we discuss payment?"

"Oh, I don't have any money," Bram lied.
"Listen, this is for a major assignment that's coming up. Think of
it as doing your part in helping the cause. I'll put in a good word
for you with Dunningham. He comes to my house all the
time."

Drake didn't look impressed. He wanted his
money, but there was nothing he could do. "Whatever, man," he
mumbled.

We rose and crawled out of the tiny
shack.

"You look cool, Bram," Josh said, readjusting
his glasses.

"Thanks, man."

"Bram, you could have given him something,"
Keira said. "He worked on that tattoo for over an hour, and it
looks really good."

Bram shrugged. "It's a business expense. Let
Dunningham pay for it."

We crawled back through the open part of the
wall, and the boys replaced the stones. We had only moved a few
feet away when I heard them being moved again. I turned around. Two
boys from Litropolis were crawling through. They looked to be
seventeen or eighteen.

"Hey," called one with long hair. "Stay out of
our city."

Bram turned and pointed to himself. "You
talking to me?"

"Yeah," said the other kid, who had a buzz cut.
"You don't belong here. We don't go to Farrington and bug you. And
where do you get off coming here, using our services, and not
paying for them? In case you haven't noticed, we kinda don't have
much and you kinda live pretty good over there."

The boy was absolutely right.

"What do you want?" Dorian asked.

"A little respect," Long Hair answered. "We may
be poor, but we're Grims just like you."

Bram stepped to the boy. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," said Buzz Cut, stepping up to
Bram.

My heart began to race. This was a whole lot of
pride and testosterone. Keira and I exchanged knowing
glances—something bad was about to happen.

"You are nothing like me, and how dare you even
open your mouth to say that," Bram said through gritted
teeth.

"What makes us different? Besides money," asked
Long Hair.

"Power," Bram answered. Then he pulled his arm
back and punched Long Hair dead in the face.

Long Hair covered his face with his hands. Buzz
Cut punched Bram in the stomach. He doubled over for a second and
then recovered quickly, punching Buzz Cut in his stomach. Dorian
jumped in to defend our brother, and Josh couldn’t be left out.
Keira and I screamed for them to stop, but of course, they wouldn't
listen.

Sirens rang through the air, and four Watchers
ran toward us. I had no idea where they’d come from. I pulled Keira
away from the fight.

The Watchers pulled the two Litropolis boys
away and threw them to the ground. The boys cowered on all fours,
looking at the ground almost like animals. I recognized one of the
Watchers as Reynold.

Reynold stroked his black beard, standing over
the boys. "Let's see what we have here. Wandering out of your
confines, trespassing, and violence against fellow Grims. What do
you have to say for yourselves?"

Long Hair sat up. "I'm sorry, sir. Very sorry.
We didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"What's your name, boy?"

"Starkin, sir."

"Yours?" Reynold asked the other.

The boy sat up. "DeCarlo." Starkin nudged him.
"DeCarlo, sir."

"Well, Starkin and DeCarlo, you've earned
yourselves a lovely stay in Gattica."

"No!" Starkin yelled. "Please, it was just a
misunderstanding! Please, just let us go back home and we will
never cause trouble again."

A knot formed in my throat from the desperation
of his plea.

DeCarlo looked at the ground, his face sullen.
"Stop begging, man. It's pointless."

Starkin began to weep, and I was embarrassed
for him. "But I don't want to go to prison."

Two of the Watchers yanked the boys off the
ground, slapping handcuffs on their wrists. DeCarlo started to
fight. I couldn't blame him. Anyone who got put away in Gattica was
automatically given a life sentence. There was no trial, no process
to see whether you were guilty or not—if the Watchers said you had
broken the law, that was it.

The Watchers began to haul the two boys away.
DeCarlo screamed obscenities, but Starkin turned to us with tears
in his eyes. "Please, tell my mother. She won’t know what happened
to me, and she'll be worried sick. Her name is Claudia. Please tell
her."

The Watchers wouldn’t have the decency to
inform the boy's families of their imprisonment. They were only
Litropolites, not worthy of such consideration.

Reynold turned to us. "Now, what are you all
doing outside of Farrington city limits?"

I looked at Bram and decided to let him do the
talking—after all, he had gotten us into this mess.

"I told them to come with me," Bram said. "I
wanted to get a tattoo for our upcoming assignment. It's very
important. I want to do my best, so I thought a tattoo would help.
You do know about the assignment, right?"

Reynold nodded. "Yeah, I know about the
assignment. You children get home," he said, before following the
others.

We turned to obey his directions. It was only
then that I noticed Dorian holding his hand over his eye. I pulled
his hand away. His eye was purple and swollen.

"Nice going, Bram." I told him. "Why did you
have to fight with those boys?"

"They should have stayed inside the wall where
they belong and not followed us."

"They're going to prison because of you, and
you should have paid that man," Keira said.

"You don't care about anyone but yourself," I
told him.

Bram yanked his hair. "Just shut up! All of
you, shut up!" Then he took off running across the
stream.

At home that night, I tried to forget about
what had happened, but all I could think about was how those boys’
families must be feeling, wondering where their sons
were.

* * *

Three days left. We were spending the next two
days of our training going over academics. It didn't really matter
what type of marks we got, but we didn't need to draw attention to
ourselves by being totally clueless.

This was the most boring part, and after an
hour, my mind shut down, refusing to take in any more information.
There were so many topics and things to learn. I could understand
that. Human children had to be prepared for whatever occupation
they wanted to be, whether it be a teacher, doctor, lawyer,
architect, or whatever. We didn't have that issue in Nowhere.
Everyone was a Grim and that was it. All we had to study were the
rules of the Covenant and our four core subjects.