Truancy Origins (37 page)

Frozen in shock, Umasi could think of nothing but what Red had said. Then he recalled something he had once heard in a classroom, the words flitting out at him from hazy memory, as if from someone else's life.

“In human albinos, the eyes are usually blue more often than red—human eyes are typically deep enough to cover the blood vessels, though there are exceptions in certain types of lighting.”

The truth came crashing down upon Umasi, and he laughed out loud as his wits returned to him. He knew now the secret behind the “ghost.” At that moment, the pale girl abruptly lashed out with her chain, swinging it in an arc towards his head. Now fully alert, Umasi ducked easily, knowing that the worst such an attack could do was knock him out. The girl drew the chain back skillfully, catching the ring at its end with her right hand.

“I know you're not a ghost!” Umasi called out, irked that his opponent remained silent.

The albino stiffened, but did not reply. Instead, with a lightning-fast motion she sent the chain shooting straight towards him. Umasi dodged to the side. The large ring at the end of the chain struck the ground with a metallic clink. The girl drew the chain back again and began twirling its end around rapidly, stirring the fog around her. As she closed the gap between them, she sent the chain flying out repeatedly with impressive force, her motions fluid and graceful. Each of her attacks was followed swiftly by another, resembling something like a dance, though Umasi had little time to admire it. He was being forced to dodge so rapidly now that he himself resembled a very clumsy tap dancer.

In spite of himself, Umasi was getting irritated. He had come to think of District 19 as his fortress, his private lair. Being attacked and made fool of within it did not sit well with him, and all the calmness he'd been trying to cultivate was quickly collapsing around him. Thinking to end the battle quickly, Umasi's hand lashed out and seized the metal ring the next time it whizzed by his head. Ignoring how his hand stung from the impact, for one brief moment Umasi believed that he'd won.

Then the albino did something completely unexpected. As he caught the ring, she allowed the chain to slacken and snapped her arm up and down, sending a complicated loop over Umasi's arm. Before Umasi could realize what was going on, his arm was entangled and she had yanked the chain.
Umasi hit the ground face-first. As he lay, humiliated, on the asphalt, he realized that his adversary had relaxed a bit, as though she thought it was over, and that a part of the now-loosened chain had coiled around the girl's foot. Knowing that he probably only had seconds before she realized her mistake, Umasi abruptly pulled on the chain with all his might. He was rewarded with a yelp as the girl also fell to the ground.

Umasi took the opportunity to shake himself free of the chains and leap upright, but his foe was already starting to rise as well. Darting forward, Umasi tackled her—and found himself in a position that was both warm and embarrassing.

The girl struggled beneath him for a moment. Finding that she could not loosen herself, she glared up at Umasi. Her pale blue eyes were slitted as she spoke for the first time.

“Get off me.”

An involuntary shiver traveled down Umasi's spine. He sprang up immediately. Her voice was cold, like freezing wind and stormy water. To him it was as elegant as, and even more powerful than, her chain had been.

“Well, sorry,” Umasi said. “If you wanted food so badly, you could've asked.”

“And you'd share?” she demanded, sitting upright.

“Of course,” Umasi replied. “Do I look like I'm starving?”

She regarded him carefully.

“No, you don't. Why is that?”

“I thought you were hungry?” Umasi said. “Over here. I'll explain after you eat.”

With that, Umasi began walking towards his apartment without sparing the girl a second glance. She sat there on the ground for several moments, contemplating his receding form with an inscrutable face. Then the slightest of smiles tugged at the corner of her lips, and she cautiously began to follow.

 

W
hat interesting weather we're having,” Zen observed, attempting to gaze out the store window, only to find it completely misted over.

“Do you think Gabriel succeeded, sir?” Noni asked from her dark corner.

“Barring any unpleasant surprises, I expect that he has,” Zen replied. “He's due back any minute now. I suppose that we'll soon find out for certain.”

Noni merely nodded at that, but didn't stop staring at him with those piercing blue eyes. That stare had become unnerving in its intensity, even to Zen, and he tried not to think too hard about what might be behind it. Zen knew very well that he could afford no love but for the Truancy. That
was the price that his role exacted, and it was one that he'd already paid. He had to be in utter control of his emotions at all times, or else all was lost.

“Noni,” Zen said suddenly, “it's rude to stare.”

Noni's normally pale complexion flushed very pink, and she began to stutter out an apology, which Zen ignored.

He could tell that she was hurt, and he felt a certain amount of regret at that. Noni had come a long way from the shivering skeleton he'd rescued in that alley, and had even repaid Zen by saving
his
life. Zen guessed that she was now able to walk among confidently among the other Truants because she had built an emotional wall to protect herself. The problem was that she seemed to have built it with Zen on the wrong side, for he would now have to extricate himself from that position.

Just then, Zen spotted a dark shape approaching through the window, and stood up, glad for the distraction.

“Well, that can't be Gabriel's team. I wonder who it is,” Zen said. Noni gave no response, save to slip further into the shadows.

The door soon swung open to admit the truant named Amal, who looked slightly out of breath.

“Just got word from Frank,” he explained. “He says they've set up crews in all the abandoned districts from 5 to 15, and will have covered twice that many by tomorrow. But he says that manpower and explosives are limited, so he wants to leave out the districts that are least likely to be searched or most easily surrounded.”

“I'll leave that up to his discretion,” Zen said. “Tell him to keep up the good work. Also, inform Aaron's team that we should have acquired a new shipment of raw materials by tomorrow, so they should start using up whatever they have.”

“Yes, sir. Oh, speaking of Aaron, one of the chemists he's found cooked up something you ought to see,” Amal said. “It's a smoke bomb. Saltpeter and sugar or something, could be nifty.”

“Possibly, though it would be quite redundant in this weather,” Zen observed, glancing out the misted window again. “Ah, it looks like Gabriel's team is returning at last. I'll inspect the new bomb later, you are dismissed.”

Amal gave a short bow, and then turned and walked out the door. Before it could close, a tired but triumphant-looking Gabriel slipped in, quickly saluting Zen before flashing a satisfied smile.

“I take it that you were successful?” Zen said.

“Very,” Gabriel exulted. “It went better than expected, and some of the new guys really proved themselves. See, after we took the guy out, some more people from the bar started coming our way and almost raised the alarm.”

“How did you resolve that problem?”

“Two of the vagrant recruits ran out and picked their pockets,” Gabriel said, chuckling. “Then they dashed off in the opposite direction, and the stupid adults followed. The suckers were yelling and cursing enough to wake the whole district, but they all went the wrong way.”

“Did everyone escape successfully?”

“Yeah, even the decoys.” Gabriel nodded. “Hell, we even got the people's wallets in the end.”

“Very good,” Zen said. “The ones responsible for the distractions can divide up the wallets' contents evenly. They certainly earned it, at any rate.”

“They'll be glad to hear that.” Gabriel grinned, then turned serious. “Do you think the Enforcers know already?”

“If they don't now, then they will soon,” Zen replied, turning towards the window once more. “Our friend Rothenberg won't be happy. I can only hope that his search parties try poking around in one of Frank's districts next.”

 

S
ir, we had a very specific search schedule planned out,” the Enforcer said.

“Why reschedule
all
the teams to check District 19?”

“I don't need to explain myself to you,” Rothenberg said irritably. “Just look under every brick in that district. I want every inch of it gone over with a microscope.”

Rothenberg glared up at the other Enforcer with bleary eyes as he drained the last drops of coffee from his cup—his fourth one that morning. Rothenberg hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night. Upon arriving at home, he had uncharacteristically gone straight to bed. Images of the ghost he'd encountered haunted him all night long. Even when he had managed to fall asleep, the spectral figure had appeared in his dreams, winding its cold chain around his neck, telling him that this was his punishment for all the vagrants that he'd killed.

Rothenberg shuddered and slammed his cup back down upon the desk. The other Enforcer now looked slightly concerned, but decided to speak anyway.

“Sir, some of the search parties have already gone out,” the Enforcer said. “We don't have any resources to spare, and even vagrants rarely ever go to District 19, so I don't see why—”

“I have my reasons!” Rothenberg snapped, mumbling something under his breath about murderous spirits. “Don't ask questions, just do it.”

The Enforcer now looked more concerned than ever, and Rothenberg got the impression that the man thought him to be insane. Rothenberg growled. He wasn't crazy. Yes, ghosts weren't supposed to be real, but he had
not
been hallucinating the previous night. Whatever it was that he had
seen vanish towards District 19, he wouldn't rest until he'd hunted it down again and killed it somehow—even if it was already dead.

“Very well, sir,” the Enforcer said reluctantly. “I'll arrange for a couple of patrols to examine the area tonight.”

“No!” Rothenberg snarled. “I want a full task force devoted to this, and I want them on it
now.
Get it done, quickly!”

A sudden commotion erupted outside the office. Both Rothenberg and his subordinate stared at the door, and a moment later it burst open to admit a harried-looking man. He was pale-faced and out of breath as he shoved a sheet of paper into the other Enforcer's hands. Rothenberg stared at the both of them, his impatience rising as he saw his subordinate's eyes widen at whatever was on the paper.

“What is it?” Rothenberg demanded.

“I'm sorry, sir.” The Enforcer sighed. “It looks like your search of District 19 is going to have to be delayed.”

“Why, what's going on?”

There was no response, only uncomfortable silence. The news was apparently so bad that neither Enforcer wanted to deliver it.

“Tell me, dammit!” Rothenberg snarled dangerously.

The other Enforcers looked at each other nervously, and then one spoke up.

“Chief Enforcer Ralph was murdered today,” he explained. “The evidence suggests that the kids we're looking for had something to do with it. And . . . the Mayor's aide is coming tomorrow. He's going to want answers.”

Rothenberg stared blankly, wondering if the man was joking. Seconds passed, and no one laughed. Rothenberg grimaced, then slammed his fists down on the desk. The others jumped. The Chief Enforcer,
murdered
? With the Mayor's aide breathing down his neck there was no way that he would get away with a ghost hunt now.

“All right then,” Rothenberg breathed. “Call off the District 19 search. Let's get on this before the Mayor's lapdog gets here.”

 

U
masi watched as the strange girl devoured her second sandwich with astounding speed. The two of them were sitting on opposite sides of the lemonade stand. So far, she had downed four glasses of lemonade and an entire sandwich as though they were nothing. Somehow, she still managed to look dignified, almost graceful as she did so.

At first she had seemed so tense that Umasi feared she might vanish into the fog if he so much as twitched. But as she ate, she seemed to relax a bit. For his part, now that she was no longer attacking him, Umasi felt a sort of
grudging admiration for the girl. You could tell a lot about a person when you fought them, which was perhaps why so many friendships followed conflict. The girl's style and weapon of choice had spoken of determination, grace, and power, tempered by a strong desire not to cause more harm than necessary. In some ways, though Umasi was reluctant to admit it, she was what he wanted to be.

“So, what's your name?” Umasi asked.

“I don't have one.”

This was such an odd answer that Umasi blinked, wondering if she was snubbing him. Though her voice had been cold and guarded as usual, the clarity of her unblinking gaze convinced Umasi to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Why not just give yourself a name?”

“I've never needed one.”

“Then what am I supposed to call you?”

“What makes you think that I'll be staying long enough for that to matter?”

Umasi could actually feel his face turn pink.

“With the way you eat I'd expect you to be here all day.”

“You have enough food to last all day?” She raised her eyebrows as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I thought you were leaving?”

“Did I say I was?” she replied frostily.

“You certainly implied it.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Umasi hesitated at that, and for a moment he thought that he saw a trace of a smile flit across the girl's face.