Lust (14 page)

“Ugh!”
she shouted.

A pair of rough hands had reached out from the darkness and grabbed her around the throat. Clearly they weren't alone on the freight car.

Crunch

GAIA ROLLED FARTHER INTO THE
pitch blackness with whoever had grabbed her. The stench was choking. Her attacker hadn't bathed in a long, long time, which meant he probably wasn't well fed, either. If her eyes would just get used to the darkness, she could beat him, no
problem. But she had no way to gauge where he was, or whether he had friends.

“Gaia!”

“What happened?”

“There are squatters on the train—agh!”

From the sound of it, the others were being attacked, too. This was some way for their story to end—they'd made it out of a prison riot only to get jumped by some rail-riders for their pocket money? That wasn't going to happen. She stood, but the rocking of the train threw her down again. She felt hands scrabbling down her body, trying to find a wallet or money hidden in her pockets.

“Don't get fresh,” she spat, using the distraction to jam an elbow into her attacker's face. She felt bone crunch against bone as his nose took the blow; maybe she'd broken it. That'd level the playing field a bit.

She crouched in the darkness, wishing she could get her back against a wall. “Where are you?” she yelled. “Dad! Open the door, someone open the door!”

She heard some “oofs” and “ughs” as Jake and Oliver and Tom fought their own individual battles, and then finally she heard the door roll wide open. The moon had risen while they were inside, and it spilled brilliant white light so bright it actually hurt Gaia's eyes. It was a good thing the night was clear. If she hadn't been able to see, she didn't know if she could have taken these attackers.

In the light, though, she could see what she was up against: not much. The vagrants were half-starved. The man who had attacked her looked young, but old before his time. He was missing every other tooth, and his hair was falling out—not from male-pattern baldness, but from malnutrition. It was obvious that he and his companions had spent too many cold nights eating too little food. And they were used to getting no resistance at all from the people they robbed.

Gaia's assailant jumped at her again. This time, she pulled her punches. A real blow from her could kill him. She wasn't ready to have blood on her hands. Not for this. She shoved him back and he grabbed her around the waist, trying to knock her to the ground once more. He was surprisingly quick. Plus, he was used to the swaying train and knew how to use it to his advantage. She tumbled back and hit the wall with her head. Momentarily dazed, she took a second to regroup.

“In the middle,” Tom shouted. Their best bet, the four of them, was to somehow get back together and form a unified front at the center of the car. But the rail-riders were determined. Someone grabbed Gaia's hair, slammed her head against the wall one, two, three times. It made her angry more than it hurt.

“Cut it out,” she growled. “Ow. What the—?” She grabbed her own hair and yanked it out of her assailant's grasp. She came face-to-face with a girl about her age, but filthy and visibly defeated by a difficult life.
Gaia was too angry to care. She decked the girl with a swift punch and kicked the other guy out of her way.

She got to the center of the car, where the other three were already together, and they stood back-to-back (-to-back-to-back, since there were four of them) to face the vagrant attackers. She thought there were about eight of them, but there might have been more. That explained why it smelled so bad in here. And now it was freezing, as the wind blew right in the wide-open doors. They all stood glaring at each other, the vagrants looking for any sign of weakness, Gaia and her crew just hoping they wouldn't have to do any more damage. Their packs had already been taken, dragged off to a corner to be plundered. The rail-riders had really hit the jackpot.

“Now, we're not going to need our camping supplies any longer,” Tom said. “But I hope our travel documents are somewhere handy?”

“In a belt under my clothes,” Oliver said. “Only . . . oh.”

“What?”

“Well, the one that attacked me, he ripped it off. I can see it over there. That one has it. See?”

Gaia wanted to roar with frustration. A pint-sized man with enormous ears and spindly fingers had the belt in question. “That guy?” she asked. “I mean, we can take him. If someone gets my back, I'll go get it.”

“Hang on,” Tom said. He spoke in Russian, asking for the belt, and promising the rail-riders to give up
everything else if they could just have their passports.

The guy answered with a laugh. He had a point. Why give up anything?

“We're going to have to go for it,” Gaia said. “Come on, just cover me and I'll get it.”

Without warning, Oliver leapt from his post and wrestled the belt-stealer to the floor, easily and handily, taking the belt without much of a struggle. The other vagrants started to attack, but he shoved them back with a vicious windmill kick that sent two of them flying—one nearly out the door.

“Oliver!” Gaia yelled. “That wasn't in the plan.”

“Sorry. Too much discussion,” Oliver said.

“But you didn't have to—”

“I had to get this back.”

He had a point. Then again, his attack had been more vicious than Gaia thought necessary. But it broke their attackers. Any aggression the little hangdog band of enemies had had left was now spent. They settled down, almost literally licking their wounds and going through their newly acquired backpacks, pleased with all the camping equipment and, of course, the food.

“Should we try to get the rest of the stuff back?” Jake asked.

“We really don't need it,” Tom said. “We probably would have dumped it all before getting on the plane. Easier if we travel light.”

“He's right. May as well let them keep it,” Oliver added.

Without another word, Gaia, Jake, Tom, and Oliver sank to the floor, making a little star, with their legs as the points sticking out. They were going to have to spend the rest of their trip vigilantly watching and making sure they kept the rail-riders at bay so they could keep the belt Oliver had fought so viciously for. There was no time for a heart-to-heart. Giving Tom the bad news about Natasha—that would have to wait.

Gaia sat, feeling an uneasy wave of confusion rising inside her. Oliver was good. She trusted him. He'd helped her all this way. But at the same time, that last confrontation—it had made her nervous. Fed into the suspicion her father had reawakened in her. If it had been Jake who'd taken the belt back with such fury, she would have chalked it up to being overenthusiastic and young. If it had been Tom, she'd have excused him because he was freaked out and tired and obviously having some kind of difficulty readjusting.

But it had been Oliver. And even with all the newfound trust he'd earned, Gaia found her mind returning immediately to Loki.

Who'd gotten that belt back? Oliver—or Loki?

Gaia needed to know. But it wasn't exactly the kind of thing you could just blurt out as a question. Maybe there was a Hallmark card she could send. A soft-focus picture with fancy script:
Just Wondering If You're Still Evil?

Guess not.

Anyway, all she could do now was sit tight and hope to get to Moscow in one piece, with the other three in tow. She could figure the rest out later. For now, everybody in her little circle seemed trustworthy enough.

For now.

Faux Goatee

HOURS LATER, GAIA NOTICED THE
little sliver of scenery she could see through the slats of the door changing rapidly.

“We're getting close to Moscow,” she said.

“What's the plan now?” Jake asked. “The train's slowing.”

“We'll ride it into the station,” Oliver said. “From there I can get us to the Metro, which we can take to the airport.”

“What, like the subway?”

“Yes.”

“Is that wise?” Tom asked. “I'd think the police would empty these freight trains before the homeless got to the city.”

“Not in Moscow,” Oliver told him. “The homeless problem is so big here, the homeless live in the train
stations. There aren't any shelters. And if any police hassle us, we can bribe them easily.”

“How do you know all this?” Gaia asked.

“Better that you don't know,” he told her, and she heard that uncomfortable chord sound in her heart again. As Oliver, her uncle was mighty helpful; as Loki, he couldn't begin to make up for his horrible acts. After her initial rush of joy over having such a great ally, she was beginning to mistrust him again . . . or maybe her dad's attitude was rubbing off on her. Either way, she felt sort of lost.

The pale light of dawn vanished as they entered a long tunnel. It was too late now, anyway. They were on their way to the Moscow train station. If Oliver was right, they'd have no problem.

In short order, Oliver turned out to be a hundred percent right. The inside of the train station was like an underground version of the ritzier, normal station above. The minute the train stopped, their companions—now loaded down with their new, stolen camping equipment—filed off politely, saying good-bye to one another like tourists leaving a hostel on a backpacking trip, and barely glancing back at Gaia and her miserable little huddle. She finally shifted her position, feeling a horrible stiffness in her joints after so many hours of tense watching and waiting.

“Well, no sense sitting around,” she said, and
hopped off after them. Tom, Oliver, and Jake followed after her. “Where to now?” she asked Oliver.

“This way,” he said. “There's an entrance to the Metro system that's supposed to be for employees only. Follow me.”

Tom looked around warily as they walked through the station. Gaia wasn't sure if he wanted them to stick with Oliver or set out on their own. She took him by the arm. “How are you feeling?” she asked him. “Are you still groggy?”

“I wasn't groggy,” he snapped. “Just a little . . . disoriented.”

“Okay, sorry.” Gaia said. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I am. I'm just not sure about this,” he told her.

“I know. What do you want to do?”

He turned toward her and studied her face. “What do you think we should do?”

Gaia blinked, a bit surprised. “Well . . . ,” she said. “Actually, I think we should stick with the plan. Things have gone fine so far. And I don't want to leave Jake with someone potentially dangerous. If something goes wrong, it's three on one—I think we'll be okay.”

He kept looking at her. “You really do, don't you? You trust Oliver.”

She shrugged. “I think it's safer than taking off on our own.” She paused a moment. “And yes. I actually feel okay about him.”

Tom vanished into his thoughts for a moment. “I
have to tell you something,” he said. “I'm really not well.”

“I know,” she said.

“Yes. Of course you would.” Tom squeezed her arm back. “I'm going to have to follow your lead on this.”

“Oh.”

Gaia didn't want to take the lead on this. The consequences were so enormous. Besides, since she'd reconnected with her dad, she'd grown used to having him around for the big questions. Or at least wishing he was around to make the big decisions. Now he was here, and he was telling
her
to make the call?

That was a twist. Like being on a train where the conductor asks the passenger what stop is next.

But if that was the way it was going to be, she'd have to go with it.

“Okay,” she said. “Then we stick to the plan.” She tried to feel as confident as she sounded.

“I'm going to be watching carefully,” he added. “I'm going to be watching Oliver for any signs of Loki. If he pulls anything suspicious—”

“It's okay.” Gaia rubbed his bicep reassuringly. “I think it's going to be okay. It's one stupid plane ride—how much could go wrong?”

The minutes she said it, she wished she'd kept her mouth shut. He shot her a smile. “Let's just get back home and sort it out then,” he said.

“Jake's got good news,” Oliver said, slowing down
to join them. “He saved the pack that had the disguises in it.”

“Jake!” Gaia cheered. “Look at you! How did you hide that?”

“I think they just didn't see it in all the confusion,” Jake told her. “It was much smaller than the other packs and it was stuck behind me when we were sitting with our backs to each other.”

“That's pretty impressive, Jake,” Gaia said. Jake waved her off—he already knew how impressive he was.

They stepped into a utility room to pull their new act together. Oliver stuck an elaborate blond beard on his face—not too shaggy, but thick enough to cover the line of his jaw and make him look totally different. With his hair under a wig, he was unrecognizable.

Tom, on the other hand, went midlife-crisis groovy: he slicked his hair back with gel and lengthened it with a fake ponytail. Jake swapped a couple of items of clothing with him—a trendier sweater, too-young jeans.

“Wow, you look kind of slimy,” Gaia commented.

“Well, thank you,” Tom grumbled. “I'm so glad I had a daughter.”

Gaia laughed. “Well, it's better than looking like an escaped prisoner. Maybe I should travel with you, and you can pretend I'm your girlfriend.”

“That's much too disturbing,” Oliver said, shaking
his head. “Gaia and Jake are going to be boyfriend-girlfriend, college kids traveling abroad. Tom and I will be on our own. We're going to travel in separate Metro cars from this point forward.”

Gaia stopped laughing and turned to Oliver. She wanted to make sure she got the plan straight. And his expression was grave.