The Airship Aurelia (The Aurelian Archives) (25 page)

             
“I can't do that,” Hayden moaned, slumping hopelessly.

             
He thought Reece was about to put him through the wall as he growled and shook him. “You have to!”

             
“I can't. Because I know what the Rippers need that only the Letoians can give them.”

             
Reece's face was blank.

             
“Prisoners, Reece.”

             

             

 

             

 

XII

 

When Cannibals Ain’t the Scariest Thing Around

 

 

             
Po wasn't one to use strong language. She'd called Gus a sisquick once when she was five, and her da had been so stern with her, she'd never used the word again.

             
But she was very near to callin' Leto's offerin'a spare parts bogrosh.

Lucky for Reece, while kids down the street from the Trimbles had been learnin' to ride their first pushbikes, Gus, Tilden, and Po had been refurbishin' their first engines. With a little elbow grease and some love, the parts would do just fine for the replacement generator-turbine Reece had asked her to make.

              The wagon Po had brought down from the boardin' house bumped at her heels as she pulled it through the scrap district'a Leto City's tumbledown market. It was halfways full'a parts, then filled the rest'a the way with other supplies she knew the ship needed, photon filaments, parchment, ice sparks. Everythin’ she'd bought had been twice as expensive as it should'a been, and that was after bargainin' at her meanest. Still, she thought Reece'd be happy with how far she'd stretched her allowance. And she'd done everythin' else he'd asked—even the stuff that didn't make sense. He said he'd explain later, but…

             
With a dreamy sigh, she gave the iron wagon handle a yank and started down a side road she could follow with her eyes all the way back to the foot'a the South Sheet. 

             
The road to the South Sheet was scored with ankle-deep ruts from carriage wheels that made the walk a hike, and before Po had gone more than two blocks, her bright red boots and the legs'a her jumpsuit were freckled grey. This city made her sad. No rain, yet there was mud, dark as night, but never with stars to show for it. She'd grown up in a farmhouse on the frayed edges'a Caldonia's slums, and maybe this wasn't quite so bad as that, but the people here, they just seemed…aimless. She tried not to look too closely at the dirty faces'a the man and woman sittin' on the stoop'a the old stone inn to her right.

             
She tugged the wagon up out of a pothole with effort and gasped when she nearly fell into a man hurryin' in the opposite direction.

             
“Sorry!” she apologized. “I wasn't lookin' where I was—” She cut off, flushin', as he stepped up to her again, forcin' her to back against the wagon. His hood was drawn, but she could still make out the sickly pallor’a his bearded face, the desperate wideness'a his eyes, milky from lightnin' blindness.

             
“I require your wagon,” he said softly.

             
Po blinked. The wagon rolled a few inches backward as she leaned away from him. “Sorry,” she said earnestly, “but you can't have it.”

             
When she tried cautiously to edge away, the couple she'd seen sittin' under the inn materialized beside him, scowlin' inside their hoods, their shoulders hunched so she felt like she was cornered by a trio'a giant owls. Her breath caught. All their eyes had the misty sheen Mayor Petric had said came from spendin' too much time above ground, and all their skin was grey-tinged, like they'd been dusted with chalk.

             
The girl, whose dark hair was cut jaggedly around her face, said in a low, fierce voice, “He said he requires your wagon.”

             
For a second, Po was struck dumb with fear, but then she shook herself and tried to square her shoulders. Somethin’ she'd learned from the slums, and from havin' brothers, for that matter: if you didn't take a stand for yourself early on, you'd never get your footin' back. She
did
glance back over her shoulder on the off chance Gideon was nearby, though. He'd been with her most'a the day by the cap'n orders, helpin' her assemble the new turbine. It figured he was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

             
“There ain't no food,” she said as firmly as she could. Her voice still quivered a little. “It's just a bunch'a spare parts.”

             
“Food,” the bearded man repeated hoarsely. Po didn't think his wide eyes had blinked once, or moved at all from where they'd first been lookin'. “They always think we're starving.”

             
“Because we
are
starving! Because they starve us!” the girl hissed. “Hoarders! Gluttonous pigs! I
hate
them!”

             
The man from the inn snapped at the rabid girl, “Stop it, Eppa! You mustn't damage her. She's pretty. Or she sounds pretty, anyways. She is pretty, isn't she?” He paused, blinkin’ his opaque eyes and thinkin' hard. “The pretty ones never taste as good.”

             
Decidin' that the wagon was just gonna have to stay put while she wore down the soles'a her little red boots, Po turned to run—and screamed as she crashed right into Gideon's chest and almost fell over backward. Nivy caught her by the arm and straightened her calmly, frownin'. Po had never been so glad to see her friends lookin' so unhappy. Gideon's expression was totally deadpan, but there was lightnin' in his blue eyes.

             
Her stomach leaped when Reece slid sideways between Gideon and Nivy's shoulders, eyein’ the three muggers with raised eyebrows. “Raiders, I presume?” he said lightly. Hayden was there too, peerin' over his shoulder and lookin' like he was comin' down with somethin', all hot and bothered.

             
Po could see the Raiders weighin' their chances, their eyes cuttin' back and forth between the wagon and the cap'n.

             
As the crazy girl, still glarin' at Po like she'd like to carve her down to her bones, opened her mouth, Reece cut her off with a simple, “Start running.” He gave it like an order, and the Raiders obeyed. They reminded Po'a rats as they scampered down the inn's narrow alleyway, their shadows ripplin' jaggedly over the crumblin' rock walls.

             
When their footsteps had faded to whispers, Po breathed a heavy sigh and straightened her wobbly knees.

             
“Are you alright?” Reece and Gideon asked at the same time, and though she nodded to them both, her eyes were on Reece. She found herself studyin' him like she didn't often let herself do, for fear he'd see her watchin'. There was somethin' about his voice…somethin' to the faraway look in his eyes…like there was a fire boilin' under the surface'a him.

             
As she glanced at the others, her heart started to flutter like a bird buildin' up to flight. Nivy looked ready to sprint if someone gave the order, scannin' the flat rooftops on either side'a the street. And Hayden didn't just look ready to sick up. He looked like he might shatter if someone handled him the wrong way. Gideon caught her eye and started to open his mouth before Reece shot him a captainly look.

             
“Po,” the cap'n said, “did you do what I asked you to?”

             
“I—yes, but…”

             
“Listen to me.” Reece peered solemnly into her face, the intensity in his brown eyes stoppin' her word flow. “You need to trust me more than ever right now.”

             
“I trust you,” Po inserted quickly.

             
“Good.” He drew a deep breath. “Because they're going to come for us now.”

             
Chimes suddenly started echoin' all throughout the city, more mechanical than musical. Like someone was bangin' a wrench against a capulator pipe. Then a cool automated voice droned over a sonic transducer, “Citizens are instructed to lock down, citizens are instructed to lock down, citizens…” It looped again and again and again.

             
Po gazed around bewilderedly. Hayden still looked a mess, but the others were steady, calm in the way a storm is calm before a snap'a thunder. Her arms lit up with goosebumps as Reece took them and turned her to face him.

             
“Po. The Letoians know we know our only way out is to steal the turbine. They've brought this on themselves; we don't have a choice. We're taking it.” As he spoke, even though he was lookin' Po in the eye, makin' her knees wobble all over again, she got the feelin' that what he said wasn't meant for her. That he was castin' his words out for someone else to catch. “Your job is to stick with Hayden whatever it takes. And most importantly…” He glanced up and grimaced at somethin' over Po's head, but when she tried to turn and look, he caught her chin and held it firm. “
To find Mordecai and have a moot.

             
And that's when the storm broke.

             
Soldiers in goggles, flat metal helmets, and hooded cloaks poured outta alleyways on either side'a the road behind Reece, their rifles tucked in their armpits and aimed. Po hadn't worked up the breath to scream before Reece shoved her away from him and yelled, “RUN!”

             
Despite all appearances, Hayden must'a had his wits together after all, because he grabbed Po's hand and jerked her into a run that whipped her braid back over her shoulder. There was hardly even time to be afraid. All she was truly awake to was Hayden's sweaty hand cuttin' off her circulation, and the stitch burnin' in her side as they put alley after alley behind them, and the mechanical chimes, her favorite thing in the world turned into somethin' horrible.

             
Gunshots sounded. Deep, bass
booms
that she felt in her chest—rifles—and quick, grainy snaps—hobs.

             
Gaspin' for air, Hayden towed her into a portico carved deep into the side of a stone house and collapsed his back against the arched doorframe. Po followed his example, only once she started relaxin', her body tried to fold in on her, and she slid clear down the wall till she was small against the foot'a it.

             
“Hayden?” He looked at her through fogged-up lenses, sweat gluin' his hair to his forehead. “Why is this happenin'?”

             
“I don't know. I mean, I do,” he panted, “but only parts of it. I think…I think there was a plan…something we were left out on…”

             
He told her what he and Scarlet had found out that mornin', about Petric's plan to steal Aurelia and escape the Rippers, about her listenin' in on Po's construction'a the new turbine. The mayor had tricked them into revealin' that the turbine was exactly what Aurelia needed to be sky-ready again.

             
“Wait,” she said, leanin' up, “how'd she listen in on us?” Hayden's stricken expression registered what she'd been too afraid to ask aloud.
Is she listenin' to us now
? “Do you think—”

             
Her unexpelled gasp filled her cheeks as Hayden crouched and covered her mouth with his hand. She swallowed, her heartbeat drummin' in her ears. Footsteps on the cobblestone outside the portico. So light, whoever they belonged to had to know she and Hayden were here hidin'.

             
Lookin' faint, Hayden grabbed her hand and mouthed, “Come on!”

             
Bitin' back a squeal'a panic, Po leaped outta the portico with him, prepared to run until her legs went on without the rest'a her.

             
Gideon caught her in one arm, roped his other around Hayden's shoulders, and heaved them back into the dark. He planted their backs against a wide wooden door and held them there with a big hand on each'a their shoulders.

             
“Easy,” he warned in a whisper as Po and Hayden together bombarded him with breathless questions. “There are others close.”

             
“So tell us what's going on!” Hayden cried, but quietly, his eyes dartin' to the alley. “We can't help unless we know—”

             
“It's not knowin' that makes you useful here, Aitch. Besides. They can still hear us. Can't take any risks.” He looked at Po just then, because she had started shiverin' somethin' fierce.

             
“How? Can they hear us, I mean?” she asked.

             
“Did you take a pill from them this mornin'?”

             
Hayden's palm strikin' his forehead mad a soft
pat
. “The bacterial sterilizer.”

             
“Yeah. Not so much that as clever Letoian broadcaster links.” Gideon scowled. “They'll be here soon. Good for another run? You've got a ways still until—”

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