The Woman They Kept (18 page)

Leanin and Gideon exchanged a
glance, their eyes wide with fear. “Akem must be better
connected than we thought; if he's able to get the Algernian
parliament to work on his behalf then we have no idea how far his
reach actually spreads.”

Ishmael spit to the side and
cocked an eye at them. “Akem? Who's this now?”

“
I've been asking myself
the same thing,” Leanin said.

Stepping away from the bars of
the cell, Gideon ran a hand over his hair. “All I really know
about the guy is that his name is Akem, or at least that's what he
called himself to me. I met him a little while ago, he was willing
to help me find Rolanda for an unspecified price in the future. He
always showed up where I was going, eager to lend a hand, but...”
Gideon's eyes had puffy bags under them as he looked at Leanin. “He
asked me to do things for him in return. I think he might have been
using us to disrupt some of his competition. I can tell you a
physical description, but I don't really know more than that. He's
a smaller guy, he's got these quick little black eyes that always
creeped me out, he's got black hair and a thin frame with a thin
mouth. Oh, and he seems to walk with a limp.”

“
A limp?”

Gideon shrugged. “Yeah, I
noticed it when I was taking Rolanda out of the last bubble. He
wasn't walking quite right.”

Ishmael began to pace back and
forth in front of their cell, his hands interlocked behind his back.
“Now,” he said quietly, talking to himself, “why
would members of the Algernian parliament take the time to trouble
themselves for a few runaway prostitutes and a pimp? And why would
the prostitutes vouch for their own pimp? There's a stink about
this, that's for sure.”

Rolanda joined Gideon and Leanin
at the bars. Her hair was tussled and she yawned and wiped the
sleep from her eyes, as though she had woken from her own bed
without a care in the world.

When she came to the bars
Ishmael stopped his pacing and stared at her, his mouth falling
open. Rolanda smiled at him. “I remind you of someone,”
she said.

Ishmael paled. “I noticed
it when we brought you in, but I didn't get too good a look.”
His hand went to his heart and he licked his dry lips.

Rolanda cocked her head to one
side and gripped at the bars of the cell. “Was it your
daughter? You're carrying death on your shoulders and in your eyes.
Was it bad?”

Gideon and Leanin both looked at
Rolanda with wide eyes. She payed them no attention.

Ishmael pulled at a silver chain
around his neck. A locket came out from under his shirt and he held
it tightly. Rolanda's eyes were large and watery, slowly moving
over Ishmael's face.

“
Elizabeth loved going
outside the bubble,” Ishmael began quietly. “Shelly and
me could never really stop her. Didn't feel right to stop her,
either. It'd be like telling a flower not to bloom. She didn't
come home one night, and it stormed pretty badly. We went out
anyway, got burned a little but not bad. Didn't find her until a
week later, she'd fallen into a crevice and gotten stuck. No gear,
exposed out there, getting rained on. Wasn't much left of her but
this locket.” Ishmael stopped speaking and tried to clear his
throat, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping at his nose. “She
had a face like yours, not exactly but close.” He took a deep
breath and turned away from them. “I'll get Shiloh to come in
and give you guys a supper.”

Without another
word he walked away from them, his footsteps ringing off the
concrete walls until he shut the door behind him.

When the lights shut off that
night Gideon's heart began to race. He felt trapped, like the dirt
was being thrown on him again. He told himself to breathe. Breathe
in, breathe out, and soon enough the night would be over. He stood
and felt along the wall until his fingers found the cold metal bars
of their cell. They provided an odd sense of comfort, they told him
that this was above ground, that he was in a cell, not a grave.

“
What is it?”
Leanin's voice called out in the darkness. “I can hear you
gasping over there. Is that Gideon or Rolanda?”

“
It's me,” Gideon
said. He placed his face against the bars, the coolness feeling
good against his sweating brow. “I just don't deal with
confinement well. It makes me feel like I'm back in that grave.”

“
So stop putting such an
emphasis on your eyes,” Leanin said. “Listen to the
drip of water coming from the faucet. Feel the cold cement under
you. Smell the rankness of the toilet if you have to.”

He did as she told him to. He
shut his eyes and concentrated on all of those things, the sharp
smell of urine, the maddening drip, the cold. Something scraped
along the ground and reached out in the darkness, a warm hand
feeling for his. Arms were around him and he knew he was okay, at
least in that moment. The smell of her hair calmed him, the feel of
her soft cheek against his drove away all thoughts of dirt and
graves and pressure.

Some time later the light was
turned on again. Gideon had fallen asleep curled around Leanin, his
hand cupping her breast, his face buried in the softness of her
hair. He sat up and rubbed his eyes in the light. Rolanda was
huddled by herself in a corner, her knees drawn up to her chin,
shivering. Her mouth was drawn tight together.

Leanin sat up and stretched,
yawning largely. “Well, it should be an interesting day
today, I should think,” she said.

Without blinking, Rolanda stared
at Gideon, her eyes unfocused and far away. “I shouldn't
think it will be that interesting at all,” she said.

Gideon shivered and rubbed his
hands up over his arms. A tingling began as his sluggish blood
finally started to move. He stood and stretched out his arms and
legs.

“
No, come on Rolanda,”
Leanin said, smiling as she stood. “It's not every day you
get to die. Let's make today a happy day. I'm guessing that Akem
will come here himself; that would really send a good message to
anyone trying to free their loved ones. He'll most likely torture
us for a while, really get us screaming, but he'll have to take us
to another place to do that. I think that his connections are
probably political, so he'll need to get us away from these peace
officers first. I for one am excited to see how it will all play
out.”

Leanin paced in front of Gideon,
a semi-crazed grin on her face, her hands constantly fidgeting
around her legs. Gideon had the surreal feeling of watching all of
this happen from three feet above his own head. He felt removed,
buffered, insulated from the possibility that today would be one of
his last. Rolanda too looked calm, her gaze a long way off.

A door opened and footsteps rang
out in the hall, crisp, even, and unhurried. Leanin stopped walking
and the smile momentarily fell from her face. Ishmael appeared in
front of their cell, his face sagging and haggard; he didn't look at
any of them as he unlocked the door. In one hand he carried his
electric truncheon, at his belt he had a pistol holstered. “Come
with me, please,” he said.

He directed them down the
hallway and through a set of doors, his footsteps echoing all around
them, saying nothing. There was a row of cells that they passed;
the conversation between the occupants fell silent as they walked
by. Finally, they reached a large iron door that Ishmael fished out
keys for. It unlocked with a loud clank and he held the door open
for them. They stepped out into a bright and sunny day.

Gideon turned and confronted
Ishmael. “Is this it? Is this the end for us? Put one in
the back of our heads and just be done with it all?” He
gripped Leanin and Rolanda's hands, clenching at them tightly,
finding little comfort.

Ishmael's eyes were empty,
staring back at him without emotion. “No, son.” His
eyes moved to Rolanda and then quickly back to Gideon. “You
get to trust your instincts when you work as a peace officer. I
looked around enough to know something's rotten here, and I won't
have my hands dirtied on it. I have to leave the posters up around
town, the council wants them there and I rather enjoy providing a
roof for my wife. You can't stay here, I would hope that much is
obvious. But the only people who knew that I took you guys in are
my own deputies.”

“
Do you trust them?”
Leanin asked. “I find most people just wait around long
enough to stab you in the back.”

Ishmael ran a hand through his
hair and squinted off into the distance. It was morning, the sun
was just beginning to peak over the mountains, the streets were
empty and it was cold enough that they could see their own breath.
“I don't like that times have gotten to where you have to ask
that question. I've known these boys for years, and yes, I trust
them. You'll find your things bundled in a bag back where you left
your bikes. Don't come back or I won't be able to let you go
again.”

Gideon still held tightly to
Leanin and Rolanda's hands. “I don't know how we can thank
you, there's not many that would stand up for people like us.”

The tall man sucked at his teeth
and nodded his head to them. “Don't ever have to thank a man
for doing the right thing, that's what my dad always said."

“
Did you find out anything
about this Akem guy when you did your checking around? We only seem
to just be discovering how large his reach really is,” Gideon
asked.

He stroked at his unshaven face,
his skin hanging off him. “I'll tell you what I know and what
I think. There's a lot of people who work the track, using the fact
that us bubbles don't communicate often with each other to their
advantage. They keep moving the women around, keep 'em disoriented
and dependent. Lot of money to be made that way, more than enough
for everyone who works it. Now, I've heard that there have been a
few high profile deaths, someone may be trying to consolidate
things. Take a bigger slice of their pie. It could be this Akem
guy you're talking about, but that's just speculation. I would say
you should stay away from any bubble you can until you get as far
away as possible.”

Ishmael walked them
to their motorcycles to see that they left his bubble. Gideon
thanked him and shook his hand before putting on his helmet. He
waved them off and the trio sped north, down the rest of the
mountain, staying to the coast. The ocean was black and menacing to
their left, the mountains sharp and frigid to their right, and they
straddled that knife edge, driving as fast as they dared.

They rode for days, stopping
only when the lack of light forced them off the road; they slept
only a few hours and then were back riding as soon as the light was
available. The fierce determination of necessity drove them north
along the coast. There was very little conversation between the
three, and Gideon felt the exhaustion in his muscles by the end of
each day. His thoughts frequently turned dark. Would life simply
be like this from then on? Frantically fleeing until their feet
simply couldn't keep up and they fell into a hole in the ground?

Their trail north was blocked by
the middle of the fourth day, a looming bubble informing them that
they would be back on the track if they continued to ride in that
direction. It was either cut in east through the mountains or risk
traveling through a bubble. They cut east.

The weather had been kind to
them, the rain holding off while their tires crunched over the dusty
gravel road. Large rocks and heaps of barely decomposed trash
formed obstacles as they skirted up a narrow path along the edge of
a mountain. The air grew crisp and cold, the path leading higher
than they originally thought. Eventually it curved around to the
other side and Gideon braked hard, holding a hand out and signaling
for Leanin to do the same.

Far below them was a valley that
was tinged green in the sunlight, though not the sour blue green of
the ocean. This was a vibrant and earthy emerald color. There was
no bubble over it, this was just a green spot surrounded by white
mountains.

“
What do you think it is?
Chemical spill?” Leanin asked.

“
I don't know,”
Gideon said. The mountains curved all around this large green
patch, walling them off. In the distance, soaring below them in
altitude out over the valley a large bird flew, slowly weaving in
circles. “I would have thought any dump sites would be closer
to a bubble.”

Rolanda took off her helmet and
joined them at the edge of the path. She tilted her nose in the air
and inhaled deeply. Smiling, she turned to them. “I smell
water.”

Gideon ignored her. “I
think we should try it. It's not like we have all that much of a
choice. We have our helmets, they should help against any toxic
gases, and our tires are solid, worst case scenario we have to turn
around.”

Leanin shrugged and donned her
helmet. Rolanda did as well, though she left her visor up.

“
Rolanda,” Gideon
said. “You should put that down. You don't know what we're
getting in to.”