The Burn Zone (21 page)

Fun Girl tried to skirt past to the door but hesitated at the last minute. Red-stamp ripped her foot from the hole and turned to face me again as I grabbed the girl
’
s bloodied wrist and pulled her away, back toward the window.

“
Come on!
”

I climbed up over the air-conditioning unit and stuck one leg out the window, looking back at Fun Girl, who shook her head. Behind her, Red-stamp was closing in fast.

I slipped out onto the narrow ledge outside, then reached back in and held my hand out. “You can do it. Hurry up!”

She grabbed the window ledge and began to pull herself out as I scrambled back to give her room.

“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“Just keep your eyes on me,” I told her. Down below, people on the street were starting to look up. She got her other leg through the window and kicked off her high-heel shoe as she pressed herself against the outside of the window. Someone shouted below us as the shoe fell.

“Hurry,” I said. “Come on—“

“I can’t—“

The blinds were yanked down in a clatter of metal and plastic. Fun Girl cringed as a scaly, black-gloved hand reached through the window and grabbed one of her wrists.

She screamed. I reached out to try and steady her when the glass between us shattered as an armored fist punched through. It grabbed her throat and squeezed until her face turned dark and veins bulged at each temple. Before I could do anything else, she was hauled back through the window in a shower of glass.

Shit... shit, shit, shit...

I looked down at the street four stories below as an airbike flitted by underneath me, and my stomach dropped. On the other side of the street, people at the windows were beginning to gawk and point. One guy pointed to the back corner of the hotel a few windows down from where I was. There was a fire escape there.

Red-stamp
’
s head appeared through the hole in the window, looking down the ledge after me. Keeping my chest to the brick wall, I stood up and started a quick shuffle until I was close enough to lunge for the metal railing of the fire escape.

When I did, my foot slipped off the ledge and my fists slid down the slick metal bars until I was dangling. Back toward the hotel window, I heard glass crunch as Red-stamp stepped through after me.

I swung my legs up until the soles of my sneakers touched the grate, and I felt something slide out of one of my pockets. Hanging upside down, I watched Dragan
’
s collapsible baton fall end over end and then clatter off a parked car below. A few people looked up as I managed to scramble over the railing and then start down the stairs.

“
Hey!
”
someone yelled.

At the bottom I slid down the ladder and landed hard on my feet down below. A bunch of drunks who
’
d been
whooping it up before the festival backed away. One pointed up toward the window, a bottle wrapped in a paper bag clutched in his dirty hand.

When I looked up, I saw she
’
d reached the fire escape and her heavy boots thudded down onto the landing. She looked down through the grate at me from the empty shell of the dispersion field. She began to climb down after me, and I made a break for the nearest gate.

As I ran, I stumbled past a lone gonzo who knelt before a chintzy shrine set up next to a rusted rain gutter. She stopped praying long enough to turn and watch me go.

“
Only He can move the stars,
”
she called as I clipped a pile of water warped cardboard, lurching out of the alley and into the moving crowd.

~ * ~

Chapter Seven

19:41:43 BC

A cough of static crackled through an amplifier as I scanned the street ahead, trying to see through the crowd to the intersection
’
s gate hub. I couldn
’
t make out where the haan soldier was exactly, but I knew I needed to get lost, and quick.

“
A gold sheet to the person who stops this girl!
”
Red-stamp
’
s voice boomed over the amp.

I glanced back, and saw an image floating in the air above the heads of the crowd. It was my face, scratches and all, looking wide-eyed and scared. Information streamed across the holographic screen below it, giving my name, physical description, and ID. Above it was the word wanted, and as I backed away I saw the word cannibal scroll past underneath it.

“
Got her!
”
a man behind me yelled. A hand grabbed my elbow, and then the street erupted around me.

Someone swung a fist over my head and struck the man who
’
d grabbed me, hitting him square in the throat. His grip loosened and I tugged free as the man who
’
d thrown the punch made a grab for me. Everyone tried to move in on me at once, and in seconds the whole street was a tangle of surging bodies, fists, knees, and flying elbows.

Someone grabbed my backpack and pulled while
someone else got their fingers hooked in the waist of my pants. I slipped and went down onto the sidewalk, crossing my arms over my face as the tangle of people clashed above me. Whoever had my waistband dragged me across the blacktop, and I reached in my pocket for the stun gun. I managed to dig it out and jabbed the prongs into his hand with a loud pop that made him let go.

A woman fell down near me, feet stomping over and around her as people reached down to grab at me. I zapped the closest one and he jerked back, taking two more with him as he fell. In the small break, I scrambled between a pair of legs and slammed into the side of a building at the edge of the crowd. Keeping my head down so they couldn
’
t see my face, I slipped behind a metal trash bin and squeezed through to the other side. Traffic was stopped, bodies clustered in around the honking vehicles as uniformed officers tried to get them under control.

In the chaos, I made a run for the intersection. People had started to pile up to find out what the riot was all about, and I squirmed my way through the human wall toward the gate behind them. As I came out the other side, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

There was no time to answer it. An electronic sign mounted on the building across the street flickered, and an image of my face appeared as I plowed headlong into a woman carrying an armload of shopping bags. Something smashed as she fell back onto the pavement and I spun off into the side of a boxcar idling at the curb.

“
Hey!
”

“
Sorry!
”

My phone buzzed again as I pushed off the truck and stumbled toward the gate, falling as I passed through. For a second, everything stopped and I hung in weightless space. The hiccup passed and I continued my fall, landing on the sidewalk on the other side. The sounds of
the riot turned distant, coming from somewhere several blocks away off to my left. Back through the portal I saw people being shoved aside as Red-stamp stormed after me. Behind her, high up above the crowd in the street, two aircars had appeared with their emergency lights flashing.

Immediately the gate buzzed, an angry red light twitching on to demand payment. The crowd clustered around the gate watched as I jumped back to my feet then cut the line and bolted through the gate directly next to it with no idea where it went.

The next time my feet touched the ground, I was somewhere uptown. Once the gate klaxon stopped, I couldn
’
t even hear the riot anymore, though I could hear faint sirens in the distance. Red-stamp had been right behind me, though. My little double-back wouldn
’
t fool her long, not with every gate I used squawking about the skipped fare.

I looked around as the people coming through behind me shoved their way past. Ahead, the queue waiting for the direction to change were eyeing
me, wondering if I
’
d still be blocking the way when they got the okay to head in.

I reached into my pocket and found Dragan
’
s twist-key. I didn
’
t know what destinations it was programmed with, but neither did Red-stamp. When the light changed and the last of the people moving through behind me had passed, I turned and jammed the key into the socket on the gate
’
s frame. I twisted it, and the view on the other side changed. It was now looking into some kind of garage or hangar. Two military men in jumpsuits looked up suddenly, frowning as I twisted the key again.

“
Hey!
”
someone called from behind me. The crowd was starting to grumble.

I turned the key three more times before I spotted a sign for the metro on the other side. I jerked the twistkey out of the socket and stuffed it back in my pocket.

“
Sorry!
”
I called, and jumped through.

On the other side, I turned back and saw the men and women in the crowd glaring after me. One was trying to flag down a cop, but in less than forty seconds the gate would revert to its original setup and I
’
d be long gone.

I took the first metro tunnel entrance I spotted. Slipping by a clot of people, I vaulted over the pitted metal rail and down onto the gum-spotted concrete steps below.

I jumped the turnstile just as a businessman in the row next to me presented his pass to the scanner. An alarm went off and when I looked back I saw a security guard headed my way, a scowl on his ruddy face.

“
Hey!
”
he barked.

I scooted through the crowd on the other side of the turnstiles and ran until I spotted a platform where a train sat with its doors open. I slipped in and headed toward the back of the car, past rows of commuters. There, I leaned forward as best I could with my hands on my knees to try and catch my breath. My legs felt ready to buckle.

My forehead tingled, like a gentle tug at my sleeve, and I looked down to see a male haan looking up at me from his seat with his big yellow eyes. He stood and made a graceful gesture toward the empty chair.

“
Oh,
”
I said.
“
You don
’
t have to-
”

“
I know,
”
he said, the light on his voice box fluttering. He gestured again, and I felt another tingle, a cool, soothing calm.

“
Thank you,
”
I said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze and then plopping down in the seat. When I looked back through the window, I saw the guard staring back at me from the top of the stairs. He looked angry, but he didn
’
t bother to follow. He must not have gotten word about the bounty, at least, not yet.

The haan stood in front of me with his back turned,
holding the bar and letting the material of his suit form a makeshift privacy curtain for me. I tried to stop shaking, but my whole body just didn
’
t want to stop, even when I hugged my ribs and squeezed. I made myself take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“
You
’
re okay,
”
I said to myself. I
’
d lost her. I was safe, for now.

A bell chimed, and out on the platform a voice began to rattle something off over the loudspeaker. I remembered the pill tab I
’
d nicked from Eng
’
s hotel and dug it out of my pocket. I pushed the double cross into my mouth and crunched down on the chalky pill, grinding it into a bitter paste.

“
You
’
re okay,
”
I told myself again.

The little pink heart appeared in the corner of my eye again. Another friend request from Nix, this time with a message:

I
spoke with Ava. You can stay in the program.

I sighed, feeling annoyed and relieved at the same time. The pill acted superfast, and my jitters were already smoothing out.

Accepted.