Six skated at full speed only just long enough to keep Evita from catching up to him, then slowed down to a steadier pace, absently rubbing at his left arm, where the muscles trembled underneath his skin. To his relief the trembling soon stopped, though he could still see a slight shake in his fingers when he held his hands out in front of him. He dropped his hands down by his sides instead and made himself concentrate on the road until the rain began. Shading his eyes with one hand, he looked up at the sky and grimaced, then started looking for somewhere to shelter until the clouds cleared away.
He found an old gas station a little further on, its small store's door still locked and the windows whole, if only because they were covered with wire netting. Six studied the door for a moment then backed up a few feet and charged at it, hitting it with his shoulder and spilling it and himself into the interior of the store. He picked himself up and moved further inside, ducking behind the dusty counter and pushing open the door to the back office. It was dim and desperately in need of a clean, but it was dry enough to he decided it would do until the rain stopped. Brushing off the seat of the chair behind the desk, he dropped down into it and eased his skates off, massaging the arch of one foot.
The rain beat down on the roof in a steady rhythm and he soon found himself growing sleepy. He tried to fight it but within moments his eyes had slid closed and he slumped back in the chair, his breathing evening out into the steadiness of sleep. He slept while the rain slowed to a drizzle and the fog came in, sending questing fingers across the floor of the store, and didn't wake until nightfall, feeling groggy and disoriented. A chill had settled into him as he slept and he felt stiff as he pushed himself up from the chair, rubbing at his sore neck. His stomach growled painfully but he ignored it in favour of stumbling off to the bathroom to relieve his aching bladder first.
When he was finished, he rummaged through the store's shelves to see if there was anything he wanted, taking a pack of lighters and a handful of wrapped jerky sticks. He shoved them into his pack and took out one of the sandwiches he'd packed—slightly battered now, and soggy—and ate it while he was pulling his skates back on. He stepped out into the cool night air and paused a moment to look around warily, then made his way back to the road.
He skated at a steady pace for a while, all his senses on high alert. The night remained silent all around him, and so dark that he felt as though his eyes were opened too wide to compensate. A flicker of movement to his right made him skid away, breathing hard and dropping his shoulder defensively, but he saw it was only the wind ruffling the overgrown bushes along the road. Rolling his eyes at himself, he looked back ahead and forced himself to keep skating.
The night passed slowly and by five am he was exhausted enough to start looking for another place to catch a few hours of sleep. He'd made it into the outskirts of what had once been a major city, now crumbling to ruin and overgrown with weeds, and its close confines made him feel even less safe than the open countryside he'd just passed through. He made his way towards the nearest house then stopped, spotting the telltale marks of thin skate wheels crossing the mud onto the cracked sidewalk. Beside them he saw other prints, thin but longer than his hand, like the footprints of a tall bird.
In a split-second decision he followed the tracks up to the house, silently freeing his knife from its sheath on his hip. The long blade, honed to a razor-sharp edge, glimmered pale pink in the first light of dawn. He paused long enough to take off his skates and slipped into the house with the knife held defensively up near his chest, ignoring the slight tremble in the fingers gripping it as he made his way in silent socked feet through the dark front hall. He could smell something swampy inside the house, a smell like brackish water and rotting meat. It nearly made him gag but he fought the urge back, easing around the corner of the hall until he could see into the living room.
Whoever was sleeping there had wrapped themselves up into a cocoon of blankets, hiding themselves from view, and was completely unaware of the bird-like creature standing over them, head cocked so it could study the blanket-wrapped form with one beady eye. It looked a little like a blue heron the size of a tall and skinny man, but where its beak should have been there was only a hole ringed with a double row of sharp teeth. It breathed so noisily that Six couldn't believe the sleeper didn't hear it, and viscous yellow drool dripped down to splatter the blankets.
Six didn't wait for it to realize that he was standing there. While it was still distracted by contemplating its oblivious meal, he stepped up behind it, grabbed its slender neck in one hand, and brought the blade of the knife whickering across, nearly severing its head from its body. The head flopped obscenely back in a welter of blood and he shuddered in disgust at the light still in its rheumy grey eyes, then hurriedly tried to scramble out of the way as it took a swipe at him with one great clawed foot, still obeying some last impulse from its lost brain. Just the tips of its claws dug into his thigh, but even that was enough to knock his leg out from under him and spill him in an awkward heap. He clapped a hand to the blood welling from his leg and held the knife ready, but the creature did a spastic dance and collapsed in a pile of swampy feathers and dark blood.
Breathing hard, he pushed himself up and nearly fell again, until a hand caught him under his upper arm. He looked up into Zephyr's pale face and groaned, yanking his arm away and steadying himself.
“Of course it's you,” he muttered. “I knew I should've kept going.”
Zephyr didn't even acknowledge it, his wide eyes fixed on the dead bird creature. Its legs twitched suddenly and he scrambled back so quickly he tripped over the edges of his own blankets and landed with a hard thump. The horror was written so plainly on his face that he looked nine instead of nineteen, an image only strengthened by his sleep-tousled hair sticking up in spikes and tufts. Torn between laughing at him and reassuring him that he was safe, Six settled for extending a hand to help him up instead. The movement put weight on his injured leg, causing fresh blood to soak into his shorts, and he hissed through his teeth, unconsciously tightening his grip on Zephyr's fingers.
“Ow!” Zephyr looked at him, some colour coming back into his cheeks. “Let go before you break something.”
“Shut up, Zeph.” Six released him and carefully leaned down to wipe his knife clean on the top blanket. He slid it back into the sheath and limped towards the door, tossing back over his shoulder, “I'm out of here. Where there's one there's probably more.”
“Wait!” He heard Zephyr scrambling behind him, but already had his skates back on by the time Zephyr made it out, his hair still stuck up in spikes and his pack slung over one shoulder. “Um. Look. Thanks. Um, I know it's a competition and everything but can we... stick together for a bit? Of everything I was expecting, that wasn't it.” He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, hunching up as though expecting an attack. “You hate me, I know, but at least I can watch your back.”
“Sure,” Six said, heading down towards the road again.
“Really?” Zephyr caught up to him, the relief in his voice mixed with suspicion. “You're not just fucking with me?”
“Nope.” Six led the way to the concrete stairs leading down into the nearest subway station. “Then I don't have to outskate the monsters. I only have to outskate you.”
Zephyr fell back for a moment then followed him down. “Funny. What happens after they've eaten me?”
“Indigestion.” Six took out one of the lighters he'd taken from the gas station and flicked the wheel, muttering a curse when it didn't light right away. He rolled it between his hands for a moment then tried it again, relieved to see the flame spring up. “Shut your mouth for five seconds while I look around.”
He moved around the long platform carefully, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his thigh; checking the tracks on both sides and leaning over to look into the tunnels. When he was satisfied that it was empty, he made his way back over to Zephyr, who still stood at the foot of the stairs, looking lost. Handing him the lighter, Six sat down on the bottom step and pulled a first-aid kit out of his pack, followed by a small steel bowl barely bigger than the palm of his hand. He poured bottled water into the bowl and gave it to Zephyr.
“Hold the lighter on that and try to make it hot.” He took off his skates again and stood up to strip out of his shorts, examining the triple gashes across his thigh. The middle one was deepest and still bleeding sluggishly, though the other two had clotted over again.
“Here.” Zephyr awkwardly knelt down in front of him and stuck a finger into the water to test it. “Not great, but if you've got some disinfectant in there, it should be okay.”
“I don't need the help.”
“Yeah, well, I happen to think my life is worth at least this much.” He leaned over to grab the first-aid kit and dumped a liberal amount of disinfectant in the water before using one of the big bandages to start scrubbing out the gashes across Six's thigh. “Though this is sort of becoming a regular occurrence.”
“You're just so willing to get on your knees.”
“Ha.” Zephyr went silent for a few moments. “So, um, why are we down in a subway station? Isn't this just the type of place monsters like?”
“Not these ones. They don't like it underground for some reason. Why do you think our cities are so safe there?”
“I dunno, I guess I just thought they were guarded well. You know a lot about this, Six.” He glanced up with half a grin. “Smarter than you look.”
“Maybe if you didn't spend all your time being an annoying little shit, you'd actually be able to learn something,” Six said, his voice sharper than he'd intended it to be.
“I didn't think it was common knowledge, that's all. Sorta classified, in fact. And you killed that thing pretty easily, almost like you knew exactly how to do it.”
“It's not that hard to figure out. Even you could probably manage it, if you weren't stupid enough to almost get eaten in your sleep.”
“Where'd you grow up anyway?” Zephyr smeared on antibiotic cream and slapped a bandage on top of it. “You showed up out of nowhere.”
“What's with all the questions?”
“I'm curious.” Zephyr heaved himself to his feet, dusting off his legs. “Nothing much else to do right now but talk.”
“Wrong. I'm going to nap and then I'm going back out on the road. Come, stay, get eaten, I don't care.” Six pushed himself up and pulled his shorts on again, moving away from the stairs to find a flat spot of floor to curl up on, wrapped in a blanket and using his pack as a pillow. He closed his eyes but sensed Zephyr join him, sitting on the floor nearby. Zephyr said something but by that time Six had drifted too far into sleep to hear him, and let himself drift away without bothering to find out what it was.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Sidewinder - Chapter Ten
“You’re getting slow in your old age, Six. I’m not even breaking a sweat to keep up with you. I’m practically cold.” Evita made a show of shivering without breaking stride. “I’m about to leave you in my dust.”
“Stop talking,” Six said, still looking straight ahead. His movements were strong but nowhere near the speed Evita knew he possessed, though they had both easily outstripped the rest of the pack.
“Need to save your breath? Understandable. I mean, after your last performance...” She pursed her lips and made a tsk sound.
“Shut the fuck up, Evita.”
“Did I hit a nerve? You never could take any comments on your performance. That’s probably why we broke up.” She grinned at his quick side glare. “That and it drove you nuts that I’m taller than you in heels. You need to be the big man, which is why I can’t understand this infatuation with Katia’s baby brother.”
“What infatuation?” he snapped, and Evita had to bite back a snort of laughter.
“Come on, Six. You’re like a little boy pulling Zeph’s pigtails. If you were broadcasting it any harder, you’d be lit up like a neon sign.”
“Did all that slutting around finally fuck up your brain? You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”
“Aww, so defensive,” she said in a sing-song voice. “That’s how I know I’ve scored a direct hit.”
“You wish,” he snorted.
“Good comeback. You really are off your game, aren’t you?” She took a moment to study him. “Actually, you do look kind of sick.”
“Your presence has that effect on me.”
“That’s a little better. So back to Zeph. Why? I mean, really, why? I guess he’s kinda cute, in the same way as some giant puppy covered in mud, thumping around and knocking things off the coffee table. I saw you smile just now, Six.”
“Why don’t you go use your mouth for something you’re actually good at, instead of running it at me?”
“Because bugging the shit out of you is fun. Though if you’d prefer, I can go back to find Zeph and—” She saw him move too late, her reaction time too slow in the face of his unnatural speed as he darted into her path and clotheslined her in the same move he’d used on her in the races. Her feet went out from under her and she landed with a hard thump, skinning her arm against the asphalt despite her pads.
“Fucker!” she yelled at his back as he took off, wincing as she picked herself up and examined the scrape on her arm, just below her elbow pad. She gave his dust the finger and moved to the side of the road to find the disinfectant in her pack, hissing through her teeth as she spread it over her arm. She slapped a band-aid on top of it and started skating again, muttering curses and promises of what she would do to Six when she caught up to him again.
It started to rain before she did, and she lost the trail completely when the fog descended. Disoriented by its thickness, she wasn’t even sure she was going the right way, and eventually she slowed to a stop and looked around, aware of how loud her breathing sounded.
“This sucks,” she muttered, just to hear the sound of her own voice. After a moment’s hesitation she turned back the way she thought she had come, the need to stop being alone in this creepy fog stronger than her desire to win the race. She could always strike off on her own again later, when the fog had cleared and she no longer felt as if unfriendly eyes were watching her from just past the fog’s barrier.
A shadowy figure loomed up out of the fog so fast that she nearly fell in her hurry to stop. She put her fists up automatically, balancing on her skates, then grinned sheepishly when the fog cleared slightly and she saw Jian giving her a raised eyebrow.
“Hey. Sorry.” She dropped her fists. “I thought you were Six.”
“That’s usually my reaction too.” Jian glanced around, wiping droplets off her cheek. “I don’t suppose you saw Katia?”
“No. Haven’t seen anyone except you since this damn fog came down.”
“I just looked away for two seconds, and when I looked back she’d disappeared.” She smiled a little and offered Evita a hand. “Buddies instead of competition, at least until we get out of this fog?”
“Please.” Evita took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Though I’m not even entirely sure which way is up anymore.”
Jian pointed. “That way. I think.”
“Works for me.” Evita started off again, matching her pace to Jian’s.
They skated in comfortable silence for a while, until the fog finally began to clear to show the last rays of the sun. Evita exchanged a glance with Jian and without speaking they both turned to look for any sign of the other racers. The road both before and behind them was empty of everything but the last shredding wisps of fog, and it was so quiet that Evita winced when she shifted her weight and her skate scraped on the ground.
“This is creepy as fuck,” Jian said after a moment. “I say we find somewhere to spend the night. I don’t really feel like stumbling around in the dark.”
“Good idea.” Evita shaded her eyes against a lance of red-gold sunlight as the sun began to slip below the horizon. “I’m going to guess there aren’t many five-star hotels around here though.”
“Sorry, princess.” Jian gave her an amused look. “We’re just gonna have to rough it.”
Evita sighed. “Yeah.” She wriggled her pack to a more comfortable position and followed Jian down the road again.
It didn’t take them long to find a small house that looked in good repair, though they spent so long checking it out to make sure it was empty that it was full dark by the time they went through the door. Evita left Jian to fiddle with the lock and went into what must have once been the living room. She poked at the grungy armchair in the corner for a few minutes before deciding it was usable enough for her to sit and take off her skates. She flexed her toes in her socks and stretched with her arms behind her head, arching her body to try and loosen the muscles in her back. When she relaxed again she saw Jian was watching her with an odd expression, though it quickly became half a smile.
“Want to see if we can start a fire?” Jian nodded to the dusty fireplace at one end of the room. “If we don’t manage to suffocate ourselves or blow the place up.”
“I am a bit cold.” Evita got up and went to poke through the ashy remains inside the fireplace. “I thought things would be more wrecked up here, after twenty-three years. It almost looked like people were here recently.”
“You’ve heard the stories, right?” Jian put her foot through a flimsy latticework end table, making Evita jump at the sudden crunch. “About people who didn’t go below.” She brought the remains of the table over and piled them in the fireplace.
“Some of them. I heard they just left people in jails. So if there is anyone up here, they’re probably a crazy murderer.”
“Instead of just a crazy racer. I need kindling.” Jian went to go hunt through the house’s cupboards and drawers, and returned triumphantly with an armful of slightly damp magazines. Evita watched her with amusement as she produced a lighter and coaxed the flame onto the magazines. For a few moments it looked like the fire would go out, then the flames caught and began to lick along the pieces of the end table.
They ate dinner in front of the fire, sitting crosslegged with their packs behind them to lean on. It was cozy enough that Evita felt herself finally relaxing, though a nagging voice in the back of her mind still nagged at her about how dangerous it was up here. She glanced at Jian and was about to say something to break the silence when Jian spoke first.
“So if you win, what’s going to be your big prize?” she asked without looking away from the fire.
“Mmm... You’ll probably laugh.”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve decided to join the circus as a clown.”
“What?” Evita said, laughing. “No. I kind of want to open a school for girls. Where they can learn sports and stuff, and not just be judged on how they look.”
“You’re a good racer as well as gorgeous, you know,” Jian said dryly.
“I know.” Evita flashed her a grin. “But there still aren’t a lot of women racers. There’s what, a dozen of us up here? Only four women though.”
“The Racing Commission is run by a woman.”
“She’s a creep though.” Evita shook her head. “Whatever, I’m not here to preach or anything. I just think it’d be nice to open up my own school. So when I win, that’s what I’ll ask for.”
“When you win? Cocky much?” Jian shoved at her shoulder. “I’m not chopped liver here.”
Evita stuck her tongue out. “Prove it then.”
“Tomorrow. Right now I just want to sleep.” Jian stretched out on the floor, punching her pack into a pillow. “Night, Evita.”
“Night,” Evita said, though she sat up for a while to watch the fire die down. When it was little more than gently glowing coals, she finally curled up next to Jian, hesitantly leaning against her for warmth. To her surprise Jian snuggled up in her sleep, looping an arm around her. For a long moment Evita kept herself stiff and rigid, then gradually she relaxed and slipped into sleep.
“Stop talking,” Six said, still looking straight ahead. His movements were strong but nowhere near the speed Evita knew he possessed, though they had both easily outstripped the rest of the pack.
“Need to save your breath? Understandable. I mean, after your last performance...” She pursed her lips and made a tsk sound.
“Shut the fuck up, Evita.”
“Did I hit a nerve? You never could take any comments on your performance. That’s probably why we broke up.” She grinned at his quick side glare. “That and it drove you nuts that I’m taller than you in heels. You need to be the big man, which is why I can’t understand this infatuation with Katia’s baby brother.”
“What infatuation?” he snapped, and Evita had to bite back a snort of laughter.
“Come on, Six. You’re like a little boy pulling Zeph’s pigtails. If you were broadcasting it any harder, you’d be lit up like a neon sign.”
“Did all that slutting around finally fuck up your brain? You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”
“Aww, so defensive,” she said in a sing-song voice. “That’s how I know I’ve scored a direct hit.”
“You wish,” he snorted.
“Good comeback. You really are off your game, aren’t you?” She took a moment to study him. “Actually, you do look kind of sick.”
“Your presence has that effect on me.”
“That’s a little better. So back to Zeph. Why? I mean, really, why? I guess he’s kinda cute, in the same way as some giant puppy covered in mud, thumping around and knocking things off the coffee table. I saw you smile just now, Six.”
“Why don’t you go use your mouth for something you’re actually good at, instead of running it at me?”
“Because bugging the shit out of you is fun. Though if you’d prefer, I can go back to find Zeph and—” She saw him move too late, her reaction time too slow in the face of his unnatural speed as he darted into her path and clotheslined her in the same move he’d used on her in the races. Her feet went out from under her and she landed with a hard thump, skinning her arm against the asphalt despite her pads.
“Fucker!” she yelled at his back as he took off, wincing as she picked herself up and examined the scrape on her arm, just below her elbow pad. She gave his dust the finger and moved to the side of the road to find the disinfectant in her pack, hissing through her teeth as she spread it over her arm. She slapped a band-aid on top of it and started skating again, muttering curses and promises of what she would do to Six when she caught up to him again.
It started to rain before she did, and she lost the trail completely when the fog descended. Disoriented by its thickness, she wasn’t even sure she was going the right way, and eventually she slowed to a stop and looked around, aware of how loud her breathing sounded.
“This sucks,” she muttered, just to hear the sound of her own voice. After a moment’s hesitation she turned back the way she thought she had come, the need to stop being alone in this creepy fog stronger than her desire to win the race. She could always strike off on her own again later, when the fog had cleared and she no longer felt as if unfriendly eyes were watching her from just past the fog’s barrier.
A shadowy figure loomed up out of the fog so fast that she nearly fell in her hurry to stop. She put her fists up automatically, balancing on her skates, then grinned sheepishly when the fog cleared slightly and she saw Jian giving her a raised eyebrow.
“Hey. Sorry.” She dropped her fists. “I thought you were Six.”
“That’s usually my reaction too.” Jian glanced around, wiping droplets off her cheek. “I don’t suppose you saw Katia?”
“No. Haven’t seen anyone except you since this damn fog came down.”
“I just looked away for two seconds, and when I looked back she’d disappeared.” She smiled a little and offered Evita a hand. “Buddies instead of competition, at least until we get out of this fog?”
“Please.” Evita took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Though I’m not even entirely sure which way is up anymore.”
Jian pointed. “That way. I think.”
“Works for me.” Evita started off again, matching her pace to Jian’s.
They skated in comfortable silence for a while, until the fog finally began to clear to show the last rays of the sun. Evita exchanged a glance with Jian and without speaking they both turned to look for any sign of the other racers. The road both before and behind them was empty of everything but the last shredding wisps of fog, and it was so quiet that Evita winced when she shifted her weight and her skate scraped on the ground.
“This is creepy as fuck,” Jian said after a moment. “I say we find somewhere to spend the night. I don’t really feel like stumbling around in the dark.”
“Good idea.” Evita shaded her eyes against a lance of red-gold sunlight as the sun began to slip below the horizon. “I’m going to guess there aren’t many five-star hotels around here though.”
“Sorry, princess.” Jian gave her an amused look. “We’re just gonna have to rough it.”
Evita sighed. “Yeah.” She wriggled her pack to a more comfortable position and followed Jian down the road again.
It didn’t take them long to find a small house that looked in good repair, though they spent so long checking it out to make sure it was empty that it was full dark by the time they went through the door. Evita left Jian to fiddle with the lock and went into what must have once been the living room. She poked at the grungy armchair in the corner for a few minutes before deciding it was usable enough for her to sit and take off her skates. She flexed her toes in her socks and stretched with her arms behind her head, arching her body to try and loosen the muscles in her back. When she relaxed again she saw Jian was watching her with an odd expression, though it quickly became half a smile.
“Want to see if we can start a fire?” Jian nodded to the dusty fireplace at one end of the room. “If we don’t manage to suffocate ourselves or blow the place up.”
“I am a bit cold.” Evita got up and went to poke through the ashy remains inside the fireplace. “I thought things would be more wrecked up here, after twenty-three years. It almost looked like people were here recently.”
“You’ve heard the stories, right?” Jian put her foot through a flimsy latticework end table, making Evita jump at the sudden crunch. “About people who didn’t go below.” She brought the remains of the table over and piled them in the fireplace.
“Some of them. I heard they just left people in jails. So if there is anyone up here, they’re probably a crazy murderer.”
“Instead of just a crazy racer. I need kindling.” Jian went to go hunt through the house’s cupboards and drawers, and returned triumphantly with an armful of slightly damp magazines. Evita watched her with amusement as she produced a lighter and coaxed the flame onto the magazines. For a few moments it looked like the fire would go out, then the flames caught and began to lick along the pieces of the end table.
They ate dinner in front of the fire, sitting crosslegged with their packs behind them to lean on. It was cozy enough that Evita felt herself finally relaxing, though a nagging voice in the back of her mind still nagged at her about how dangerous it was up here. She glanced at Jian and was about to say something to break the silence when Jian spoke first.
“So if you win, what’s going to be your big prize?” she asked without looking away from the fire.
“Mmm... You’ll probably laugh.”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve decided to join the circus as a clown.”
“What?” Evita said, laughing. “No. I kind of want to open a school for girls. Where they can learn sports and stuff, and not just be judged on how they look.”
“You’re a good racer as well as gorgeous, you know,” Jian said dryly.
“I know.” Evita flashed her a grin. “But there still aren’t a lot of women racers. There’s what, a dozen of us up here? Only four women though.”
“The Racing Commission is run by a woman.”
“She’s a creep though.” Evita shook her head. “Whatever, I’m not here to preach or anything. I just think it’d be nice to open up my own school. So when I win, that’s what I’ll ask for.”
“When you win? Cocky much?” Jian shoved at her shoulder. “I’m not chopped liver here.”
Evita stuck her tongue out. “Prove it then.”
“Tomorrow. Right now I just want to sleep.” Jian stretched out on the floor, punching her pack into a pillow. “Night, Evita.”
“Night,” Evita said, though she sat up for a while to watch the fire die down. When it was little more than gently glowing coals, she finally curled up next to Jian, hesitantly leaning against her for warmth. To her surprise Jian snuggled up in her sleep, looping an arm around her. For a long moment Evita kept herself stiff and rigid, then gradually she relaxed and slipped into sleep.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sidewinder - Chapter Nine
The fog seemed to thicken between one blink and the next, so fast that Livia looked away for one moment and looked back to find everyone else had been swallowed up in the greyness. She paused a moment then called out, grimacing at the way the fog muffled her voice. A shadow flashed by on her right and she decided to follow it, hoping it would quickly lead her out. Something—some sense of self-preservation, maybe—warned her to stay as quiet as she could, alone out here in the dampening fog. She just concentrated on skating, making sure she didn’t veer off the road onto terrain that would trip her up.
It was sunset before she came out of the fog, and she was chilled to the bone from the cold damp. The last dying rays of the sun offered little warmth and as soon as she stopped skating, she started to shiver. Muttering a curse, she moved to the side of the road and stripped off, casting quick nervous glances around to make sure no one was watching her. Changing into dry clothes made her feel much better, despite the oncoming night, and she set off determined to find out where the rest of the group had gone.
She stopped again towards midnight, with the moon riding high in the sky and no group, though once or twice she’d heard things moving in the long grass and nearby woods. After a moment she pulled off her skates and stowed them in her pack, changed into sneakers, and went into the woods herself, searching until she found a massive old tree with low branches. It took some maneuvering with her heavy pack dragging on her shoulders, but she managed to heave herself up onto the lowest branch and from there climbed up until she found a twisted ledge of branches big enough to hold her for the night. She hung her pack from another branch after taking a blanket and some food out of it, and snuggled up against the trunk with the blanket around her shoulders to eat.
After a while she closed her eyes and dozed without dreaming, only to wake after a few hours to the sound of branches snapping. She glanced down automatically but her relief at seeing nothing climbing the tree towards her was short-lived. Shadows moved on the ground below, one tall and thin, the other heavily muscled. In her sleepiness she thought they were people at first, until the moon slid out from behind the clouds to illuminate them.
She bit her lip against a scream when the lizard-faced monster suddenly looked up, craning its heavy head back and snorting audibly. The tall shadow with it gave a yank on the chain it was holding, pulling the creature forward a step by its collar. Livia watched wide-eyed as they passed beneath her tree and faded away into the darkness beyond, only realizing she’d been holding her breath when she gasped for air.
She spent the rest of the night wide awake, clinging to the trees and jumping at every small noise. Dawn found her stiff and tired, with a pounding headache and a numb butt. She climbed gingerly down from the tree and stretched before making her way back to the road and sitting down to put her skates back on. She nibbled on a handful of licorice as she skated, gradually cheering up under the warmth of the sun. For a while she enjoyed the skate, the feel of moving easily forward and the wind against her face, the fresh air and sun overhead.
She was just beginning to think about stopping for lunch when she heard a sudden barking grunt from somewhere behind her, followed by a low snarl. She whirled and looked around but saw nothing; she’d come down over a rise a minute before and it blocked her view of the road beyond. For a long moment she hesitated, warring with herself, then cautiously skated back towards the rise.
A branch broke nearby and she stopped again, poised on the edge of flight. The sudden appearance of someone rushing over the rise froze her in place like a deer in the headlights, until they crashed head-on into her, slamming them both into the asphalt. She yelped as it scraped up her back and crossed her arms over her face to try and protect herself.
“Livia?” The way he said her name was almost a yelp itself, but it made her peek between her crossed arms to see who it was. Skye didn’t give her a chance to even relax, scrambling awkwardly to his feet and pulling her up with him. “Come on, we have to move, before they come back.”
“Who?” Livia asked, trying not to trip as he yanked her down the road. “You’re going to take my arm right out of the socket, knock it off!”
“Sorry.” He slid his hand down from her forearm to her hand, squeezing her fingers tight, and casting a nervous look back behind them. “There was this thing, like a lizard but it had no eyes, and some sort of I dunno, an alien? Really tall and thin and ugly.” He let out a shuddery breath. “It tried to eat me. The lizard.”
“Just breathe for a minute.” She winced as he squeezed her hand again. “Come on, man, don’t go into hysterics on me.”
“I’m not, I’m good.” He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “I swear I saw them. Monsters.”
“I believe you. I saw them last night.”
“Katia said the stories were real but I didn’t believe her. She told me I was full of hot air.” He laughed, a little hysterically. “Guess I should’ve listened.”
“Do they know?” Livia asked uncertainly. “The Commission, I mean. You’d think they would, right? But then why send us up here?”
“Maybe they don’t.” Skye glanced quickly around again then dug out his camera, holding it up so he could talk into the lens. “You guys saw that, right? What happened to protecting us? Where’s the armed guards? Whoever scouted this area did a shitty job.”
“Breathe,” Livia told him again, reaching up to turn the lens towards herself. “Hey, we need help up here. Tell your guards to pay more attention.” She covered the lens with one hand and raised an eyebrow at Skye. “Not giving up, are you?”
“Hell no,” he said after a moment, stowing the camera back in his pack. “I just want a bit more protection. Those things are really creepy.”
“No kidding. So can I have my hand back now or were you planning on keeping my fingers?” She gave him half a grin to show she was teasing.
“Sorry.” He released her and ran both hands back through his hair, making it stick up in spikes. “Gross, I need a shower.”
“I think we’re stuck with ponds and stuff.” She started skating again and he followed, matching his pace to hers so they could skate side by side. “So if you see one, let me know.”
“You’re not bothered by that thought?”
“Water’s water. And I don’t care if you see me naked. Or anyone, really.” She snorted a laugh at his expression. “Is the thought that horrifying?”
“I’m sure anyone would be happy to see you naked,” he said after a moment.
“Very diplomatic,” she said, laughing. “I do still need a bath though. So do you.”
“I didn’t really think about that kind of thing when I signed up.” Skye shook his head. “Didn’t think about a lot, I guess.”
“I know the feeling.” She drew him away from the trees, hoping he hadn’t seen the shadow pacing along beside them. “So hey, tell me why you’re up here. Got something important and special you want to win for?”
“Not really. The fame, I guess. I’ll probably ask for money and give some of it to my parents.” He shrugged. “Nothing exciting. You?”
“To get away from my siblings.” She laughed. “I’m one of ten, and it gets crowded.”
“Man, no kidding. I just have the one brother and he’s a pain in my ass.” Skye shaded his eyes to glance up at the sky, then grinned a bit. “We’re supposed to be racing. Wanna race?”
Livia took off without answering, laughing at his indignant squawk. “You snooze, you lose,” she called back over her shoulder, then settled into the business of racing.
They passed a pond a little while later and doubled back to see if it could be used to wash off. The area around it was filled with gently waving grass and a few twisted trees, but there was enough open space that Livia felt safe stripping down and wading into the water. She grinned at the blush that spread across Skye’s cheeks and the way he turned away from her, studiously looking anywhere else.
“Coming in?” she asked, splashing in the water to warm up.
“When you’re done. I’ll keep watch.”
Livia snorted but didn’t push the issue, taking the opportunity to scrub all the sweat and dust from her skin. She stayed in the water until her fingers had gone all pruny and she was starting to shiver, then reluctantly pushed herself back up onto the bank and shook her clothes out before changing back into them. She turned to tell Skye that it was okay to look now, but a sudden high scream cut her off. Skye met her gaze with wide eyes and flinched at another pained shriek. Shivering from more than the cold, Livia hurriedly strapped her skates on and threw her pack over her shoulder before heading towards the sound.
“Liv!” Skye caught her arm. “You are not going charging in there. The guards—”
“Fuck the guards.” She tugged her arm free and kept going, though the next scream sent a shiver up her spine and made the hairs all over her body stand on end. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Skye catch up to her, and together they skated towards the source.
Snarls and ugly chattering growls filled the air as they approached another hill and Livia reached out without thinking to take Skye’s hand. Clinging to each other, they crept around until they could see past the hill, to a flattened uneven circle of beaten grass soaked in blood. Livia felt her stomach turn over at the stench, and swallowed hard against bile when she saw another of the eyeless lizards—or maybe the same one—tearing at the flesh of some animal. The corpse had been so mangled that she couldn’t tell what it was at first, until the monster sidestepped to dig at another chunk of flesh.
Tangled in the torn grass was a single skate, its bright colours dimmed by streaks of blood and its wheels still gently spinning.
It was sunset before she came out of the fog, and she was chilled to the bone from the cold damp. The last dying rays of the sun offered little warmth and as soon as she stopped skating, she started to shiver. Muttering a curse, she moved to the side of the road and stripped off, casting quick nervous glances around to make sure no one was watching her. Changing into dry clothes made her feel much better, despite the oncoming night, and she set off determined to find out where the rest of the group had gone.
She stopped again towards midnight, with the moon riding high in the sky and no group, though once or twice she’d heard things moving in the long grass and nearby woods. After a moment she pulled off her skates and stowed them in her pack, changed into sneakers, and went into the woods herself, searching until she found a massive old tree with low branches. It took some maneuvering with her heavy pack dragging on her shoulders, but she managed to heave herself up onto the lowest branch and from there climbed up until she found a twisted ledge of branches big enough to hold her for the night. She hung her pack from another branch after taking a blanket and some food out of it, and snuggled up against the trunk with the blanket around her shoulders to eat.
After a while she closed her eyes and dozed without dreaming, only to wake after a few hours to the sound of branches snapping. She glanced down automatically but her relief at seeing nothing climbing the tree towards her was short-lived. Shadows moved on the ground below, one tall and thin, the other heavily muscled. In her sleepiness she thought they were people at first, until the moon slid out from behind the clouds to illuminate them.
She bit her lip against a scream when the lizard-faced monster suddenly looked up, craning its heavy head back and snorting audibly. The tall shadow with it gave a yank on the chain it was holding, pulling the creature forward a step by its collar. Livia watched wide-eyed as they passed beneath her tree and faded away into the darkness beyond, only realizing she’d been holding her breath when she gasped for air.
She spent the rest of the night wide awake, clinging to the trees and jumping at every small noise. Dawn found her stiff and tired, with a pounding headache and a numb butt. She climbed gingerly down from the tree and stretched before making her way back to the road and sitting down to put her skates back on. She nibbled on a handful of licorice as she skated, gradually cheering up under the warmth of the sun. For a while she enjoyed the skate, the feel of moving easily forward and the wind against her face, the fresh air and sun overhead.
She was just beginning to think about stopping for lunch when she heard a sudden barking grunt from somewhere behind her, followed by a low snarl. She whirled and looked around but saw nothing; she’d come down over a rise a minute before and it blocked her view of the road beyond. For a long moment she hesitated, warring with herself, then cautiously skated back towards the rise.
A branch broke nearby and she stopped again, poised on the edge of flight. The sudden appearance of someone rushing over the rise froze her in place like a deer in the headlights, until they crashed head-on into her, slamming them both into the asphalt. She yelped as it scraped up her back and crossed her arms over her face to try and protect herself.
“Livia?” The way he said her name was almost a yelp itself, but it made her peek between her crossed arms to see who it was. Skye didn’t give her a chance to even relax, scrambling awkwardly to his feet and pulling her up with him. “Come on, we have to move, before they come back.”
“Who?” Livia asked, trying not to trip as he yanked her down the road. “You’re going to take my arm right out of the socket, knock it off!”
“Sorry.” He slid his hand down from her forearm to her hand, squeezing her fingers tight, and casting a nervous look back behind them. “There was this thing, like a lizard but it had no eyes, and some sort of I dunno, an alien? Really tall and thin and ugly.” He let out a shuddery breath. “It tried to eat me. The lizard.”
“Just breathe for a minute.” She winced as he squeezed her hand again. “Come on, man, don’t go into hysterics on me.”
“I’m not, I’m good.” He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “I swear I saw them. Monsters.”
“I believe you. I saw them last night.”
“Katia said the stories were real but I didn’t believe her. She told me I was full of hot air.” He laughed, a little hysterically. “Guess I should’ve listened.”
“Do they know?” Livia asked uncertainly. “The Commission, I mean. You’d think they would, right? But then why send us up here?”
“Maybe they don’t.” Skye glanced quickly around again then dug out his camera, holding it up so he could talk into the lens. “You guys saw that, right? What happened to protecting us? Where’s the armed guards? Whoever scouted this area did a shitty job.”
“Breathe,” Livia told him again, reaching up to turn the lens towards herself. “Hey, we need help up here. Tell your guards to pay more attention.” She covered the lens with one hand and raised an eyebrow at Skye. “Not giving up, are you?”
“Hell no,” he said after a moment, stowing the camera back in his pack. “I just want a bit more protection. Those things are really creepy.”
“No kidding. So can I have my hand back now or were you planning on keeping my fingers?” She gave him half a grin to show she was teasing.
“Sorry.” He released her and ran both hands back through his hair, making it stick up in spikes. “Gross, I need a shower.”
“I think we’re stuck with ponds and stuff.” She started skating again and he followed, matching his pace to hers so they could skate side by side. “So if you see one, let me know.”
“You’re not bothered by that thought?”
“Water’s water. And I don’t care if you see me naked. Or anyone, really.” She snorted a laugh at his expression. “Is the thought that horrifying?”
“I’m sure anyone would be happy to see you naked,” he said after a moment.
“Very diplomatic,” she said, laughing. “I do still need a bath though. So do you.”
“I didn’t really think about that kind of thing when I signed up.” Skye shook his head. “Didn’t think about a lot, I guess.”
“I know the feeling.” She drew him away from the trees, hoping he hadn’t seen the shadow pacing along beside them. “So hey, tell me why you’re up here. Got something important and special you want to win for?”
“Not really. The fame, I guess. I’ll probably ask for money and give some of it to my parents.” He shrugged. “Nothing exciting. You?”
“To get away from my siblings.” She laughed. “I’m one of ten, and it gets crowded.”
“Man, no kidding. I just have the one brother and he’s a pain in my ass.” Skye shaded his eyes to glance up at the sky, then grinned a bit. “We’re supposed to be racing. Wanna race?”
Livia took off without answering, laughing at his indignant squawk. “You snooze, you lose,” she called back over her shoulder, then settled into the business of racing.
They passed a pond a little while later and doubled back to see if it could be used to wash off. The area around it was filled with gently waving grass and a few twisted trees, but there was enough open space that Livia felt safe stripping down and wading into the water. She grinned at the blush that spread across Skye’s cheeks and the way he turned away from her, studiously looking anywhere else.
“Coming in?” she asked, splashing in the water to warm up.
“When you’re done. I’ll keep watch.”
Livia snorted but didn’t push the issue, taking the opportunity to scrub all the sweat and dust from her skin. She stayed in the water until her fingers had gone all pruny and she was starting to shiver, then reluctantly pushed herself back up onto the bank and shook her clothes out before changing back into them. She turned to tell Skye that it was okay to look now, but a sudden high scream cut her off. Skye met her gaze with wide eyes and flinched at another pained shriek. Shivering from more than the cold, Livia hurriedly strapped her skates on and threw her pack over her shoulder before heading towards the sound.
“Liv!” Skye caught her arm. “You are not going charging in there. The guards—”
“Fuck the guards.” She tugged her arm free and kept going, though the next scream sent a shiver up her spine and made the hairs all over her body stand on end. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Skye catch up to her, and together they skated towards the source.
Snarls and ugly chattering growls filled the air as they approached another hill and Livia reached out without thinking to take Skye’s hand. Clinging to each other, they crept around until they could see past the hill, to a flattened uneven circle of beaten grass soaked in blood. Livia felt her stomach turn over at the stench, and swallowed hard against bile when she saw another of the eyeless lizards—or maybe the same one—tearing at the flesh of some animal. The corpse had been so mangled that she couldn’t tell what it was at first, until the monster sidestepped to dig at another chunk of flesh.
Tangled in the torn grass was a single skate, its bright colours dimmed by streaks of blood and its wheels still gently spinning.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Sidewinder - Chapter Eight
On the bus ride up, Skye had thought he was prepared; he’d read books about life before they’d been driven underground, and watched old movies to try and get a visual idea. None of it prepared him for his first step out under the wide open sky. He stopped dead just outside the door and stared up, wide-eyed, at the cloudless expanse of blue above him, until the person coming out behind him gave him a shove out of the way.
He moved off to the side and sat down on the rocky ground to pull on his skates and pads, unable to keep from looking up every few minutes, though it made him dizzy if he stared too long. The bright sunlight dazzled his eyes and the sense of open space suddenly made him feel very small. He started when someone touched his shoulder and dropped the pad he was about to strap onto his elbow, giving Katia a sheepish grin as he picked it up.
“It’s big, huh?” Katia settled down beside him and tightened the buckles on her own skates. “You were looking a little shellshocked. You’ll get used to it.”
“It’s just so... open. We’re supposed to race through this?” He looked up again. “Is it weird that I feel like something’s going to come crashing down on my head? You’d think I’d feel that down below, not up here.”
“I guess it’s instinct to want to crouch down and protect yourself when you get out in this sort of open space. Plus you know it isn’t safe up here.”
“Well, stories...”
She smiled a little. “Stories to you, maybe. I lived through it.”
“What are you doing up here then?”
Katia pointed to her brother, who had already strapped all his gear on and started stretching. “That idiot. At the risk of sounding about a hundred and twenty, you young guys, born after we were driven under? You really don’t know anything. You’re all bravado and hot air.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”
“Nah.” He gave her shoulder a brief squeeze and pushed himself to his feet, rebalancing before offering her a hand up. “Good luck, Katia. See you at the finish line.”
“You too.” She nodded to him and skated away to join her brother and Jian.
Skye looked after her for a moment then decided to copy Zephyr’s example and stretch, working out a kink in his shoulder and warming up the big muscles in his legs. He double-checked the bindings on his skates and settled his pack more comfortably on his shoulders, waiting impatiently for the Commission to call them together to start the race.
A jolt of excited fear went through his belly when they finally did, and he concentrated on breathing naturally as he skated up to join the rest of the racers behind the line of tape stretched across the dusty tarmac. There was some jostling as they all got into line, then an expectant silence that stretched out in ticking seconds until the starting gun went off with a bang that made Skye jump. He stumbled slightly then caught himself and pushed out over the starting line in smooth strides.
After the first rush, the group began to spread apart and settle into a longer, steadier rhythm. Skye found himself a place on the outside, out of the way of Six and Evita, who had shot right to the front of the pack, and dug through his pack until he found the equipment one of the Commission members had given him. He inspected it between quick glances to make sure he wasn’t about to run into anything, and grinned when he realized the tiny video camera came equipped with a built-in map. Reminding himself that he could inspect it—and try to figure out where it was getting its signals from—when he stopped for the night, he turned his attention back to the road.
For a while it was less like a race and more like a practice run, especially after Six and Evita disappeared into the distance ahead of them. Taz told a dirty joke about a nun and a barstool, bringing laughter from most of the group, and for the next few hours Skye just enjoyed being out in the warmth of the sunlight, breathing in the fresh air.
The sky began to cloud over shortly after they paused to eat lunch, still mostly grouped together. Skye nibbled on the carrots he’d brought with him and watched the clouds move, waiting for the rain to start. It was cold when it did, and hard enough to soak him within seconds. He flipped his hood up and got to his feet, setting off again to keep warm in the driving rain. Fog formed rapidly and began to creep across the ground, forcing him to slow as his visibility reduced nearly to zero. He swallowed hard against the thick lump of fear in his throat and tried to keep moving, until he suddenly realized he was skating through the fog completely alone.
He dragged his toe to stop and looked around, his breathing loud and harsh in the muffled silence of the fog. Cold droplets slid down cheeks and under the collar of his jacket, until he rubbed them away. For a moment he thought he heard voices but when he moved towards them, he only found more fog. It didn’t take long for him to become completely disoriented and he had to dig the GPS out of his pocket to figure out where he was.
The rain eased as he started moving again but the fog only seemed to get thicker, wrapping around him and sinking through his damp clothes until he shivered despite the warmth generated by his movement. He almost called out, then hesitated, thinking of the grey thing that had flashed past the camera in the Commission’s meeting room; and Katia’s comment about stories. He bit his lower lip then just kept going, hoping he would come out through the fog into clear air.
A low hooting noise cut through the silence suddenly, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He looked around quickly, breathing through his nose to avoid panting, and slid his pocketknife out of his shorts. Something ran through the fog behind him with rapid thudding footsteps, but when he whirled—nearly unbalancing himself—he could see nothing but a shifting, rolling curtain of grey.
He took a breath, then checked the GPS and started skating in what he hoped was the right direction, putting on speed in an effort to outrun the fog around him. Unable to see any landmarks or anything else he was passing, he soon began to feel as though he were just skating in place without getting anywhere, and had to shake his head hard to get rid of the sudden dizziness. He slowed for a few minutes to catch his breath, and shuddered at another hooting cry close behind him.
“Go away!” he yelled at it, and suddenly took off as fast as he could, sprinting into the thick fog ahead of him. He pushed himself until his chest burned and he felt wobbly on his skates, and only slowed when he thought he heard someone calling his name.
“Hello?” he called back. “Anyone out there?”
His name drifted back through the fog and he turned to follow it, straying from the path the GPS had set. Gradually, finally, the fog began to clear, until he skated out into clear air underneath the reddish light of the setting sun. He turned his face up to it, then looked around for whoever had been calling his name, his burgeoning smile fading as he saw nothing but empty road. He glanced back behind him, startled by how much the fog looked like a shifting wall, then slowly started to follow the road, keeping an eye out for any human movement.
Dark descended swiftly and he gave up on finding people, instead turning his attention to finding shelter for the night. The moon had risen high in the dark sky by the time he stumbled upon what must have once been someone’s farmhouse, though half of it had collapsed into ruin now. He inspected it carefully, expecting something to leap out at him, then settled into the corner of what was left of the living room, grateful to ease his skates off his sore feet and change into dry clothes.
He spent some time playing with the video equipment, padding around what was left of the house in his socked feet to film the destruction and chatting about it just to hear his own voice break the silence. When he grew tired of that he went back to his pack and fiddled with the GPS, resisting the urge to take out the little case of tools he always brought with him so he could take things apart. After a while his eyes grew too heavy to keep open and he curled up with his pack as a pillow, huddled into his coat. He slept lightly and restlessly, starting awake at every tiny noise, and stayed awake after he heard multiple somethings snarling and fighting outside in the dusty garden an hour before dawn.
He waited until the sun had risen completely before leaving the farmhouse, cautiously looking around to make sure whatever had been out there had left. He saw blood and bits of grey-brown fur in the dirt by the living room window and made a face, skirting wide around it as he skated back to the road. A quick glance at the GPS oriented him and he started skating, trying not to think about the fact that he was still completely alone.
Nearly two hours passed before he became aware that he was being followed, though when he looked back quickly over his shoulder, he saw nothing. He tried to ignore it but the crawling sensation between his shoulderblades only grew stronger, causing him to hunch his shoulders and skate stiffly. He faked having to stop and kneel down to fix his skate, holding his breath to listen carefully. Sweat ran down his nose and he wiped it off on his shoulder before pushing himself back to his feet, beginning to feel frustrated.
“Whoever’s out there, it’s not funny.” He turned around in a circle. “Just come out.”
He heard footsteps from the wooded area beside and behind him, and turned towards them, ready to tell off whoever had been scaring him. His voice died in his throat when it appeared through the trees, thick and heavyset and not human, though it walked on two muscular legs. A distant part of him thought it looked a little like a lizard, if lizards had only vestigial flaps of skin where their eyes should be and a mouth too small for all their teeth. It had a metal collar around its thick neck and he had a moment to think how strange that was before it turned its heavy snout towards him and breathed in deeply, oversized nostrils flaring.
Instinct took over and he was already moving when it lunged at him, mouth gaping wide. It just barely missed snagging a claw in his pack, coming close enough that he felt the sickly heat of its body. He didn’t look back to see how quickly it picked itself up out of the dirt; he just took off down the road as fast as he could. Its thudding footsteps soon sounded behind him and he swore he could feel its humid breath on the back of his neck as he fled.
He caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and risked a quick look over, feeling his heart drop as he saw another creature loping along through the woods. This one looked more human, though it was impossibly tall and thin, its huge hands ending in claws longer than his own fingers. It carried a length of chain wrapped loosely around one arm and wore a rudimentary scrap of cloth around its narrow hips, though its clawed feet were bare. Its skin was an unpleasant grey-brown and thick like leather, except where it thinned over its angular face. Just looking at it made Skye feel sick, and he hurriedly tore his eyes away, already panting for breath.
His calf gave a warning twinge and he hissed a curse, willing it not to develop into a cramp. Beside him the creature began to lag, then dropped back, uttering a harsh barking noise. The monster behind Skye slowed and reluctantly turned away after a last snarl. Skye didn’t wait to see what they would do next, not even slowing until a stitch in his side forced him to stop, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. He looked around, wild-eyed, but the road remained empty and silent around him.
He spent a few minutes just trying to even out his breathing before moving again, slowly to let himself rest, until the sudden crack of a breaking branch sent him bolting forward like a frightened rabbit. He cast a frightened look back over his shoulder as he skated up a rise in the road, and just barely realized there was something on the other side before he crashed right into it, sending them both down in a tangle of limbs.
He moved off to the side and sat down on the rocky ground to pull on his skates and pads, unable to keep from looking up every few minutes, though it made him dizzy if he stared too long. The bright sunlight dazzled his eyes and the sense of open space suddenly made him feel very small. He started when someone touched his shoulder and dropped the pad he was about to strap onto his elbow, giving Katia a sheepish grin as he picked it up.
“It’s big, huh?” Katia settled down beside him and tightened the buckles on her own skates. “You were looking a little shellshocked. You’ll get used to it.”
“It’s just so... open. We’re supposed to race through this?” He looked up again. “Is it weird that I feel like something’s going to come crashing down on my head? You’d think I’d feel that down below, not up here.”
“I guess it’s instinct to want to crouch down and protect yourself when you get out in this sort of open space. Plus you know it isn’t safe up here.”
“Well, stories...”
She smiled a little. “Stories to you, maybe. I lived through it.”
“What are you doing up here then?”
Katia pointed to her brother, who had already strapped all his gear on and started stretching. “That idiot. At the risk of sounding about a hundred and twenty, you young guys, born after we were driven under? You really don’t know anything. You’re all bravado and hot air.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”
“Nah.” He gave her shoulder a brief squeeze and pushed himself to his feet, rebalancing before offering her a hand up. “Good luck, Katia. See you at the finish line.”
“You too.” She nodded to him and skated away to join her brother and Jian.
Skye looked after her for a moment then decided to copy Zephyr’s example and stretch, working out a kink in his shoulder and warming up the big muscles in his legs. He double-checked the bindings on his skates and settled his pack more comfortably on his shoulders, waiting impatiently for the Commission to call them together to start the race.
A jolt of excited fear went through his belly when they finally did, and he concentrated on breathing naturally as he skated up to join the rest of the racers behind the line of tape stretched across the dusty tarmac. There was some jostling as they all got into line, then an expectant silence that stretched out in ticking seconds until the starting gun went off with a bang that made Skye jump. He stumbled slightly then caught himself and pushed out over the starting line in smooth strides.
After the first rush, the group began to spread apart and settle into a longer, steadier rhythm. Skye found himself a place on the outside, out of the way of Six and Evita, who had shot right to the front of the pack, and dug through his pack until he found the equipment one of the Commission members had given him. He inspected it between quick glances to make sure he wasn’t about to run into anything, and grinned when he realized the tiny video camera came equipped with a built-in map. Reminding himself that he could inspect it—and try to figure out where it was getting its signals from—when he stopped for the night, he turned his attention back to the road.
For a while it was less like a race and more like a practice run, especially after Six and Evita disappeared into the distance ahead of them. Taz told a dirty joke about a nun and a barstool, bringing laughter from most of the group, and for the next few hours Skye just enjoyed being out in the warmth of the sunlight, breathing in the fresh air.
The sky began to cloud over shortly after they paused to eat lunch, still mostly grouped together. Skye nibbled on the carrots he’d brought with him and watched the clouds move, waiting for the rain to start. It was cold when it did, and hard enough to soak him within seconds. He flipped his hood up and got to his feet, setting off again to keep warm in the driving rain. Fog formed rapidly and began to creep across the ground, forcing him to slow as his visibility reduced nearly to zero. He swallowed hard against the thick lump of fear in his throat and tried to keep moving, until he suddenly realized he was skating through the fog completely alone.
He dragged his toe to stop and looked around, his breathing loud and harsh in the muffled silence of the fog. Cold droplets slid down cheeks and under the collar of his jacket, until he rubbed them away. For a moment he thought he heard voices but when he moved towards them, he only found more fog. It didn’t take long for him to become completely disoriented and he had to dig the GPS out of his pocket to figure out where he was.
The rain eased as he started moving again but the fog only seemed to get thicker, wrapping around him and sinking through his damp clothes until he shivered despite the warmth generated by his movement. He almost called out, then hesitated, thinking of the grey thing that had flashed past the camera in the Commission’s meeting room; and Katia’s comment about stories. He bit his lower lip then just kept going, hoping he would come out through the fog into clear air.
A low hooting noise cut through the silence suddenly, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He looked around quickly, breathing through his nose to avoid panting, and slid his pocketknife out of his shorts. Something ran through the fog behind him with rapid thudding footsteps, but when he whirled—nearly unbalancing himself—he could see nothing but a shifting, rolling curtain of grey.
He took a breath, then checked the GPS and started skating in what he hoped was the right direction, putting on speed in an effort to outrun the fog around him. Unable to see any landmarks or anything else he was passing, he soon began to feel as though he were just skating in place without getting anywhere, and had to shake his head hard to get rid of the sudden dizziness. He slowed for a few minutes to catch his breath, and shuddered at another hooting cry close behind him.
“Go away!” he yelled at it, and suddenly took off as fast as he could, sprinting into the thick fog ahead of him. He pushed himself until his chest burned and he felt wobbly on his skates, and only slowed when he thought he heard someone calling his name.
“Hello?” he called back. “Anyone out there?”
His name drifted back through the fog and he turned to follow it, straying from the path the GPS had set. Gradually, finally, the fog began to clear, until he skated out into clear air underneath the reddish light of the setting sun. He turned his face up to it, then looked around for whoever had been calling his name, his burgeoning smile fading as he saw nothing but empty road. He glanced back behind him, startled by how much the fog looked like a shifting wall, then slowly started to follow the road, keeping an eye out for any human movement.
Dark descended swiftly and he gave up on finding people, instead turning his attention to finding shelter for the night. The moon had risen high in the dark sky by the time he stumbled upon what must have once been someone’s farmhouse, though half of it had collapsed into ruin now. He inspected it carefully, expecting something to leap out at him, then settled into the corner of what was left of the living room, grateful to ease his skates off his sore feet and change into dry clothes.
He spent some time playing with the video equipment, padding around what was left of the house in his socked feet to film the destruction and chatting about it just to hear his own voice break the silence. When he grew tired of that he went back to his pack and fiddled with the GPS, resisting the urge to take out the little case of tools he always brought with him so he could take things apart. After a while his eyes grew too heavy to keep open and he curled up with his pack as a pillow, huddled into his coat. He slept lightly and restlessly, starting awake at every tiny noise, and stayed awake after he heard multiple somethings snarling and fighting outside in the dusty garden an hour before dawn.
He waited until the sun had risen completely before leaving the farmhouse, cautiously looking around to make sure whatever had been out there had left. He saw blood and bits of grey-brown fur in the dirt by the living room window and made a face, skirting wide around it as he skated back to the road. A quick glance at the GPS oriented him and he started skating, trying not to think about the fact that he was still completely alone.
Nearly two hours passed before he became aware that he was being followed, though when he looked back quickly over his shoulder, he saw nothing. He tried to ignore it but the crawling sensation between his shoulderblades only grew stronger, causing him to hunch his shoulders and skate stiffly. He faked having to stop and kneel down to fix his skate, holding his breath to listen carefully. Sweat ran down his nose and he wiped it off on his shoulder before pushing himself back to his feet, beginning to feel frustrated.
“Whoever’s out there, it’s not funny.” He turned around in a circle. “Just come out.”
He heard footsteps from the wooded area beside and behind him, and turned towards them, ready to tell off whoever had been scaring him. His voice died in his throat when it appeared through the trees, thick and heavyset and not human, though it walked on two muscular legs. A distant part of him thought it looked a little like a lizard, if lizards had only vestigial flaps of skin where their eyes should be and a mouth too small for all their teeth. It had a metal collar around its thick neck and he had a moment to think how strange that was before it turned its heavy snout towards him and breathed in deeply, oversized nostrils flaring.
Instinct took over and he was already moving when it lunged at him, mouth gaping wide. It just barely missed snagging a claw in his pack, coming close enough that he felt the sickly heat of its body. He didn’t look back to see how quickly it picked itself up out of the dirt; he just took off down the road as fast as he could. Its thudding footsteps soon sounded behind him and he swore he could feel its humid breath on the back of his neck as he fled.
He caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and risked a quick look over, feeling his heart drop as he saw another creature loping along through the woods. This one looked more human, though it was impossibly tall and thin, its huge hands ending in claws longer than his own fingers. It carried a length of chain wrapped loosely around one arm and wore a rudimentary scrap of cloth around its narrow hips, though its clawed feet were bare. Its skin was an unpleasant grey-brown and thick like leather, except where it thinned over its angular face. Just looking at it made Skye feel sick, and he hurriedly tore his eyes away, already panting for breath.
His calf gave a warning twinge and he hissed a curse, willing it not to develop into a cramp. Beside him the creature began to lag, then dropped back, uttering a harsh barking noise. The monster behind Skye slowed and reluctantly turned away after a last snarl. Skye didn’t wait to see what they would do next, not even slowing until a stitch in his side forced him to stop, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. He looked around, wild-eyed, but the road remained empty and silent around him.
He spent a few minutes just trying to even out his breathing before moving again, slowly to let himself rest, until the sudden crack of a breaking branch sent him bolting forward like a frightened rabbit. He cast a frightened look back over his shoulder as he skated up a rise in the road, and just barely realized there was something on the other side before he crashed right into it, sending them both down in a tangle of limbs.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sidewinder - Chapter Seven
Zephyr rubbed at the goosebumps rising on his bare arms, leaning against the elevator’s back wall as it rose slowly up to the Commission’s waiting room. Excitement puddled low in his belly and he pushed himself away from the wall again, pacing through what little room he had to move in. After a moment Jian reached out and shoved him back.
“Knock it off, Zeph. You’re making me dizzy.” She patted his head. “Good boy. Sit, stay.”
“That stopped being funny when I was ten.”
“I strongly disagree. It will never stop being funny.” Jian glanced at Katia, who was staring moodily into space. “Right, Kat?”
“Mmm.” Katia blinked when Zephyr waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry, what?”
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“How much I want to strangle you.”
“I love you too, Kat.” He blew her a kiss and straightened up as the elevator gave a low ding and finally stopped. He was the first one out of the car and down the hall to the meeting room, though he waited outside, bouncing from one foot to the other, until Jian and Katia had caught up. They walked into the room together, joining the half-dozen racers already waiting.
Six was the last to come in, taking a seat at the far end of the room from the rest of the group, which now numbered an even dozen; down from the twenty-odd who had originally agreed. Anais McCall and the rest of the Commission entered shortly after and arranged themselves at the table at the front of the room. Zephyr expected another talk but instead they were just handed a booklet full of forms to sign and told to bring it up to the table when they were done. He paused before he started writing, looking around to see exactly who his competition would be, and caught Six looking at him with a funny expression. He offered a smile, but Six only rolled his eyes and went back to his forms, absently tucking his hair behind one ear. Zephyr stuck his tongue out at him and began filling out his own forms.
After completing the forms they were split by gender, then separated into pairs to be sent for physicals. Zephyr found himself paired up with Six, to Six’s obvious disgust, but before they could even leave the room, Taz balked.
“I don’t see why I need to go for any tests,” he snapped. “I’m a racer.” He gestured to the room. “We all are. Obviously we’re in shape.”
“That’s not the point, Mr. Anaru,” Anais said, leaning forward over her crossed arms. “This is not a normal race, and I must insist that you have the tests before I allow you to participate. If you refuse, then you will be disqualified.”
“What are they testing for? I want to know that at least.” Taz crossed his own arms, chin jutted out stubbornly.
Zephyr saw the displeasure on the chairwoman’s face before she quickly hid it. “Diseases and defects that don’t affect performance here, but certainly would topside. We don’t wish to spend all this money only to have to bring a racer home five minutes into the race. It’s for your own safety.”
Taz gave her a long, steady look. “I’ll bet. All right, I’ll let your doctors poke at me. Come on, Vik.” He led the way out, followed by the boy he’d been paired up with, a quiet racer named Viktor.
Half the group had gone through by the time Zephyr and Six were called out and directed down to the testing rooms. Zephyr fought the urge to make a joke about going to their doom as they walked in silence down the hall, guessing from Six’s stormy expression that he wouldn’t appreciate it. They were shown into a room that looked like a larger version of a doctor’s office and told to strip down to their shorts, then left to wait for a while.
“So,” Zephyr said, just to break the silence, “feeling any better?”
“Shut up, Zeph.” Six didn’t even look at him, green eyes fixed on the door.
“I’m just asking a question. What crawled up your ass and died today?”
“If I wanted to listen to yapping all the time, I’d buy a puppy.”
“You’d probably turn it rabid,” Zephyr muttered, lapsing back into silence until the doctor came in.
He kept an eye on Six during the exam, watching to see if he would show any sign of the same muscle spasms as after the race. Six remained perfectly steady even through the balance tests, but the fierce look of concentration in his eyes made Zephyr wonder if he was doing it all on sheer willpower. The doctor didn’t appear to notice, making marks on his clipboard and telling Six to wait until Zephyr had gone through the same tests. Zephyr barely paid attention to what he was being asked to do, going through the motions automatically until the doctor finished and told them to get dressed before leaving the room.
“Six,” Zephyr said as soon as the door had shut again.
“What?” Six stepped into his jeans and pulled them up, and this time Zephyr saw him fumble slightly with the button.
“I don’t think you should go up.”
“Remind me why I give a shit what you think.” Six did up his jeans on the second attempt and pulled his shirt over his head.
“I think you’re sick and should be seeing a doctor, not going topside to race. You’re pretty good at faking that you’re fine, but if the Commission found out—”
“Zephyr, I will kill you if you do anything to sabotage me.” Six didn’t raise his voice or even look at him. “Keep your mouth shut.”
He walked out of the room before Zephyr could reply, letting the door slam shut behind him. Zephyr glared at it for a moment, then finished getting dressed and followed, meaning to stop Six and make him listen. Instead he found the hallway empty, and when he returned to the meeting room to join the rest of the group, Six was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Zephyr dropped down on the couch next to Katia and Jian.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jian asked. “Didn’t enjoy your flea bath?”
“Just thinking about your favourite person.”
“Zeph, I say this because I love you. Just go watch porn like a normal guy. It’s probably more fulfilling.”
Zephyr rolled his eyes. “Who said anything about fulfilling?”
“So it’s a wham, bam, thank you ma’am type of thing? I can get behind that. That’s what they make ball-gags for.”
“Ugh, stop.” Katia punched Jian in the shoulder. “It’s like sitting with a pair of twelve-year-old boys.”
“I didn’t even say anything.” Zephyr sat up again as Six came back into the room but before he could even think about going over, Anais clapped her hands together, calling their attention like they were schoolchildren. Zephyr tuned her out as she went over the rules again, then told them that unless something came up on the tests, they would be picked up a week later and taken topside for the race’s start.
A crowd of reporters were already waiting for them when they left the building, crowded around in the plaza outside and preventing anyone from ducking away without a microphone shoved in their face. One man, his hair greased back with so much gel that it nearly sparkled, cornered Six as he tried to push his way through the mass of people and cameras to demand his opinion on his competition.
The look Six gave the reporter should have fried him on the spot. “What do I think of my competition? I’m up against a cripple, an idiot, a slut, a bitch, and some cannon fodder.”
“And a giant asshole completes the set,” Jian called sweetly, at the same time that Evita said, “At least this slut won her last race, and didn’t fall on her face doing it.” They exchanged a mutually appreciative look as laughter rippled through the crowd.
Six shrugged. “I’m not worried. It’ll practically be a vacation.” He elbowed the reporter out of the way, grabbing the lens of the camera with one hand and forcing its operator to step back so he could get through. “Piss off.”
“What an ass,” Katia muttered.
“Yeah, what did you ever see in him?” Jian linked their arms. “I’m starving, let’s go eat. Zeph, lead the way. You’re bigger than us.”
“Yeah, okay.” Zephyr pushed through the reporters, trying not to wince as a series of flashbulbs went off practically in his face, and breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the relative safety of the public street.
They went into the first restaurant they found, taking a table along the back wall and gradually expanding it as other racers came in and were invited to sit. By dark almost everyone who had signed up for the topside race was gathered in the restaurant, drinking and laughing as they talked about everything except the race. The party split up around two in the morning to let them all stumble drunkenly home, to sleep and prepare for the race in a week’s time.
Zephyr spent most of the week lounging around the house and going out around town, when he wasn’t chattering away in interviews scheduled by his manager. When asked about his thoughts on the race and his competition, he only grinned and said he expected to win, no matter who he was up against. The week passed rapidly and he was startled to wake up the morning of the race’s start and realize he would be going topside for the first time in his life in only a few hours.
A car picked him and Katia up around ten and drove them to the Commission’s building, where they were grouped together with the other racers to wait for the special bus that would take them above ground. Zephyr whiled away the time watching for Six, wondering if he would even show; if the tests had shown something despite Six’s efforts. The bus pulled up with no sign of him, but just as Zephyr was stepping on—having delayed until he was the last to board—Six sauntered in, skate bag slung over one shoulder and sunglasses on. Zephyr raised a hand in half a wave, grinning despite himself even though Six ignored him completely.
Zephyr took the empty seat next to Skye, bumping his knuckles against Skye’s in greeting, and settled back for the trip. The level of chatter on the bus was low; now that the time was actually here, Zephyr saw more apprehension than excitement. He could feel a strange quivering in his own stomach, and his breath came a little too fast. He told himself to relax, taking deep breaths as the bus left the city and entered a tunnel that sloped steadily upwards, passing through checkpoints every few minutes. Eventually it came to a stop in a high, cavernous warehouse and they were all ushered off.
“Perfect place to execute us all and dump the bodies,” Jian muttered behind him.
He heard Katia laugh softly, but they were only met by Anais and the Racing Commission members for a last debriefing. When it was done, they were handed video equipment and led to a large, heavily padlocked door at one end of the warehouse. A man dressed in the plain green uniform of the military unlocked it and swung it open, letting in a shaft of bright light. Taking a deep breath, Zephyr exchanged a look with Katia, and stepped out into direct sunlight for the first time.
“Knock it off, Zeph. You’re making me dizzy.” She patted his head. “Good boy. Sit, stay.”
“That stopped being funny when I was ten.”
“I strongly disagree. It will never stop being funny.” Jian glanced at Katia, who was staring moodily into space. “Right, Kat?”
“Mmm.” Katia blinked when Zephyr waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry, what?”
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“How much I want to strangle you.”
“I love you too, Kat.” He blew her a kiss and straightened up as the elevator gave a low ding and finally stopped. He was the first one out of the car and down the hall to the meeting room, though he waited outside, bouncing from one foot to the other, until Jian and Katia had caught up. They walked into the room together, joining the half-dozen racers already waiting.
Six was the last to come in, taking a seat at the far end of the room from the rest of the group, which now numbered an even dozen; down from the twenty-odd who had originally agreed. Anais McCall and the rest of the Commission entered shortly after and arranged themselves at the table at the front of the room. Zephyr expected another talk but instead they were just handed a booklet full of forms to sign and told to bring it up to the table when they were done. He paused before he started writing, looking around to see exactly who his competition would be, and caught Six looking at him with a funny expression. He offered a smile, but Six only rolled his eyes and went back to his forms, absently tucking his hair behind one ear. Zephyr stuck his tongue out at him and began filling out his own forms.
After completing the forms they were split by gender, then separated into pairs to be sent for physicals. Zephyr found himself paired up with Six, to Six’s obvious disgust, but before they could even leave the room, Taz balked.
“I don’t see why I need to go for any tests,” he snapped. “I’m a racer.” He gestured to the room. “We all are. Obviously we’re in shape.”
“That’s not the point, Mr. Anaru,” Anais said, leaning forward over her crossed arms. “This is not a normal race, and I must insist that you have the tests before I allow you to participate. If you refuse, then you will be disqualified.”
“What are they testing for? I want to know that at least.” Taz crossed his own arms, chin jutted out stubbornly.
Zephyr saw the displeasure on the chairwoman’s face before she quickly hid it. “Diseases and defects that don’t affect performance here, but certainly would topside. We don’t wish to spend all this money only to have to bring a racer home five minutes into the race. It’s for your own safety.”
Taz gave her a long, steady look. “I’ll bet. All right, I’ll let your doctors poke at me. Come on, Vik.” He led the way out, followed by the boy he’d been paired up with, a quiet racer named Viktor.
Half the group had gone through by the time Zephyr and Six were called out and directed down to the testing rooms. Zephyr fought the urge to make a joke about going to their doom as they walked in silence down the hall, guessing from Six’s stormy expression that he wouldn’t appreciate it. They were shown into a room that looked like a larger version of a doctor’s office and told to strip down to their shorts, then left to wait for a while.
“So,” Zephyr said, just to break the silence, “feeling any better?”
“Shut up, Zeph.” Six didn’t even look at him, green eyes fixed on the door.
“I’m just asking a question. What crawled up your ass and died today?”
“If I wanted to listen to yapping all the time, I’d buy a puppy.”
“You’d probably turn it rabid,” Zephyr muttered, lapsing back into silence until the doctor came in.
He kept an eye on Six during the exam, watching to see if he would show any sign of the same muscle spasms as after the race. Six remained perfectly steady even through the balance tests, but the fierce look of concentration in his eyes made Zephyr wonder if he was doing it all on sheer willpower. The doctor didn’t appear to notice, making marks on his clipboard and telling Six to wait until Zephyr had gone through the same tests. Zephyr barely paid attention to what he was being asked to do, going through the motions automatically until the doctor finished and told them to get dressed before leaving the room.
“Six,” Zephyr said as soon as the door had shut again.
“What?” Six stepped into his jeans and pulled them up, and this time Zephyr saw him fumble slightly with the button.
“I don’t think you should go up.”
“Remind me why I give a shit what you think.” Six did up his jeans on the second attempt and pulled his shirt over his head.
“I think you’re sick and should be seeing a doctor, not going topside to race. You’re pretty good at faking that you’re fine, but if the Commission found out—”
“Zephyr, I will kill you if you do anything to sabotage me.” Six didn’t raise his voice or even look at him. “Keep your mouth shut.”
He walked out of the room before Zephyr could reply, letting the door slam shut behind him. Zephyr glared at it for a moment, then finished getting dressed and followed, meaning to stop Six and make him listen. Instead he found the hallway empty, and when he returned to the meeting room to join the rest of the group, Six was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Zephyr dropped down on the couch next to Katia and Jian.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jian asked. “Didn’t enjoy your flea bath?”
“Just thinking about your favourite person.”
“Zeph, I say this because I love you. Just go watch porn like a normal guy. It’s probably more fulfilling.”
Zephyr rolled his eyes. “Who said anything about fulfilling?”
“So it’s a wham, bam, thank you ma’am type of thing? I can get behind that. That’s what they make ball-gags for.”
“Ugh, stop.” Katia punched Jian in the shoulder. “It’s like sitting with a pair of twelve-year-old boys.”
“I didn’t even say anything.” Zephyr sat up again as Six came back into the room but before he could even think about going over, Anais clapped her hands together, calling their attention like they were schoolchildren. Zephyr tuned her out as she went over the rules again, then told them that unless something came up on the tests, they would be picked up a week later and taken topside for the race’s start.
A crowd of reporters were already waiting for them when they left the building, crowded around in the plaza outside and preventing anyone from ducking away without a microphone shoved in their face. One man, his hair greased back with so much gel that it nearly sparkled, cornered Six as he tried to push his way through the mass of people and cameras to demand his opinion on his competition.
The look Six gave the reporter should have fried him on the spot. “What do I think of my competition? I’m up against a cripple, an idiot, a slut, a bitch, and some cannon fodder.”
“And a giant asshole completes the set,” Jian called sweetly, at the same time that Evita said, “At least this slut won her last race, and didn’t fall on her face doing it.” They exchanged a mutually appreciative look as laughter rippled through the crowd.
Six shrugged. “I’m not worried. It’ll practically be a vacation.” He elbowed the reporter out of the way, grabbing the lens of the camera with one hand and forcing its operator to step back so he could get through. “Piss off.”
“What an ass,” Katia muttered.
“Yeah, what did you ever see in him?” Jian linked their arms. “I’m starving, let’s go eat. Zeph, lead the way. You’re bigger than us.”
“Yeah, okay.” Zephyr pushed through the reporters, trying not to wince as a series of flashbulbs went off practically in his face, and breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the relative safety of the public street.
They went into the first restaurant they found, taking a table along the back wall and gradually expanding it as other racers came in and were invited to sit. By dark almost everyone who had signed up for the topside race was gathered in the restaurant, drinking and laughing as they talked about everything except the race. The party split up around two in the morning to let them all stumble drunkenly home, to sleep and prepare for the race in a week’s time.
Zephyr spent most of the week lounging around the house and going out around town, when he wasn’t chattering away in interviews scheduled by his manager. When asked about his thoughts on the race and his competition, he only grinned and said he expected to win, no matter who he was up against. The week passed rapidly and he was startled to wake up the morning of the race’s start and realize he would be going topside for the first time in his life in only a few hours.
A car picked him and Katia up around ten and drove them to the Commission’s building, where they were grouped together with the other racers to wait for the special bus that would take them above ground. Zephyr whiled away the time watching for Six, wondering if he would even show; if the tests had shown something despite Six’s efforts. The bus pulled up with no sign of him, but just as Zephyr was stepping on—having delayed until he was the last to board—Six sauntered in, skate bag slung over one shoulder and sunglasses on. Zephyr raised a hand in half a wave, grinning despite himself even though Six ignored him completely.
Zephyr took the empty seat next to Skye, bumping his knuckles against Skye’s in greeting, and settled back for the trip. The level of chatter on the bus was low; now that the time was actually here, Zephyr saw more apprehension than excitement. He could feel a strange quivering in his own stomach, and his breath came a little too fast. He told himself to relax, taking deep breaths as the bus left the city and entered a tunnel that sloped steadily upwards, passing through checkpoints every few minutes. Eventually it came to a stop in a high, cavernous warehouse and they were all ushered off.
“Perfect place to execute us all and dump the bodies,” Jian muttered behind him.
He heard Katia laugh softly, but they were only met by Anais and the Racing Commission members for a last debriefing. When it was done, they were handed video equipment and led to a large, heavily padlocked door at one end of the warehouse. A man dressed in the plain green uniform of the military unlocked it and swung it open, letting in a shaft of bright light. Taking a deep breath, Zephyr exchanged a look with Katia, and stepped out into direct sunlight for the first time.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Sidewinder - Chapter Six
He woke with another headache, pounding and twisting behind his eye, twisting his stomach up in knots. He tried to get out of bed and immediately fell to his knees, swallowing hard against the urge to throw up. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself back up and staggered into the bathroom to down his pills, chasing them with a handful of water from the sink. For long moments he just braced himself with a hand on either side of the counter, his head hanging and his dark hair in his eyes, until the drugs began to kick in and took the edge off. He glanced at his face in the mirror and grimaced at his pale, drawn look, the deep shadows under his eyes, and the stubble darkening his jaw.
He splashed water on his face and gingerly turned on the water into the bath, afraid the pressure of having a shower might cause his head to explode. He washed without making sudden movements then hauled himself out of the tub and dried off, beginning to relax as the headache eased to a dull throb in the back of his skull. A quick glance at the clock showed him that he didn’t have a lot of time left to make it to the arena before his last race of the season. Muttering curses under his breath, he threw on some clothes, dumped a handful of food in the cat’s bowl, grabbed his bag, and jogged outside to hail a cab.
The noise of the huge crowds outside the arena made him wince and he shoved through them with a growl to escape into the quieter back hallways. He was late enough that the dressing room was empty but he still took his time putting on his skates and pads, taking deep breaths to try and keep his heartbeat from pounding in his head. The announcer was making last call by the time he made it out to the starting line, and one of the refs frowned in disapproval, tapping her watch. He forced a smile and gave her the finger in return, then settled into his spot on the track.
The track wavered in front of him and he blinked rapidly, forcing himself to ignore the noise all around him and the sweat trickling down his back. The mingled scents of dust, sweat, and fried foods made his stomach turn over and he coughed to cover up a gag. The racer beside him glanced over then looked back at the track when he glared, muttering something about arrogant assholes. Six resisted the urge to start a fight right at the starting line and instead waited for the sound of the starting gun.
He started off strong at the sound of the gun, taking the opportunity to throw his elbow into the racer beside him, knocking the man off his skates and leaving him in the dust. The crowd roared in approval and he grinned a little, until he felt the first tremor go through his leg. He made himself ignore it, lengthening his stride to keep ahead of the pack, but the tremor grew to a tremble and he stumbled, nearly pitching face-first onto the track. A murmur of shock ran through the crowd and he saw Evita flash by on his right as he fought to keep his balance. He snarled a curse and took off after her, using the incredible speed he was so famous for.
He almost caught her just before the finish line; would have passed her with bare seconds to spare, but for another sudden tremor through his leg. The muscles went abruptly loose and he fell to one knee just over the line, tearing up that knee and both of his palms. All around him the crowd was going wild, their shrieks and excited babble only ramping up the returning pain in his head. Aware that photographers were taking pictures, he shoved himself back to his feet and headed for the exit, straight-arming a reporter out of his way. He ducked into the cool, quieter air of the dressing room and dropped down onto the bench, holding his hands out in front of him. Blood ran down his knee and a few drops fell from an especially deep gouge in the heel of his palm. He ignored it and watched his hands intently, until he saw the faint tremble go through his fingers.
“Six?” The voice made him start, and then flinch at a jolt of pain through his head.
“Fuck off, Zeph.” He blotted his hands on his shorts. “Go out and celebrate, someone beat me.”
“Uh, bitter, party of Six.” He just grinned at the look Six gave him. “Celebrating comes later. You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, when I see someone dripping blood everywhere, my first thought isn’t, ‘oh hey, they must be just fine’.” Zephyr headed across the room and grabbed the first-aid kit from the medicine closet. “So we can do this one of two ways. You can let me patch you up, or I can alert the medics. I hear they have a new backboard they’re dying to try out. I bet the media would have a fuckin’ field day with it.”
“What is it with your family and the aggressive need to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong?” Six asked.
“We like taking in strays.” Zephyr held up the first-aid kit and shook it, making it rattle. “So which is it? Me or the backboard?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Six sat back to let Zephyr see to the scrapes on his knee, hissing through his teeth at the sting of disinfectant. He could still dimly hear the crowd outside, a dull roar of humanity. Shaking his head, he glanced at Zephyr, who had moved on to disinfecting his hand and was looking up at him expectantly. “What? Want a treat?”
“You’re shaking.” Zephyr studied his face, frowning slightly. “Are you sick?” He tightened his grip on Six’s wrist as Six tried to pull away. “There’s something wrong. The headaches getting worse?”
Six just looked at him, aware that a muscle was jumping in his jaw but unable to stop it. After a moment Zephyr sighed and looked away, rummaging through the first-aid kit until he found a large band-aid to slap over the gouge in Six’s palm. They both heard the excited chatter of the other racers coming down towards the dressing rooms and Six pulled his hand from Zephyr’s grip, waving him away. He leaned over to take off his skates as Zephyr got up to put the first-aid kit away, and was halfway to the exit with his packed bag slung over one shoulder before anyone came in. Zephyr said his name but he ignored it, shoving his way out into the street.
He walked home, trying to clear his head, and opened the door just in time to hear the phone ring. Dropping his bag on the floor, he went to answer it, expecting it to be his manager demanding to know what had happened. Instead an unfamiliar female voice told him she was calling regarding Navid Khataee, and asked if he had a few moments to spare.
“Yeah,” he said, swallowing against a sudden dryness in his throat. “One sec.” He reached out to hook one of the kitchen chairs with his foot and pulled it up to the counter so he could sit down. “Okay, go ahead.”
The conversation lasted only five minutes and he spent most of it leaning on his elbow with his forehead resting on his palm and his eyes closed, muttering, ‘uh-huh’ into the phone. After hanging up, he stayed there for another few minutes, until the cat jumped up into his lap and demanded attention. He stroked it with one hand then got up and dumped more food into its bowl before going to wash and change out of his bloody, dusty clothing. In the shower he paid special attention to his hands, watching the way they moved and flexed, and shook slightly when he reached out for something. He curled his hands into fists and turned his face into the spray, forcing his mind to go blank.
He called his manager after his shower and just said, “I’m not coming tonight.” before hanging up. The phone rang again immediately but he ignored it to go get dressed, choosing his clothes with some care. By the time he left again the pinpoints of light coming through the ceiling were golden-red with the dying of the sun, speckling the sidewalk. He called a cab and gave directions to the hospice on the edge of the city, watching out the window without really seeing. When they arrived he gave the driver a handful of bills without bothering to count them and went into the building, squaring his shoulders as he approached the front desk and gave his full name.
The nurse on duty signed him in and told him he had an hour before visiting hours were over. He nodded, barely listening to her, and took the stairs up to the third floor, lifting one hand to the nurse behind the desk—Joy, he thought distantly, her name is Joy— before going into the first room on the right. The overhead lights had been turned down low, though someone had pulled the curtains back to allow outside light in. It only made the man in the bed look worse, tingeing his skin yellow and revealing how painfully thin he was, little more than skin and bone. His green eyes were the brightest thing about him, but the way they glittered spoke of fever or madness.
“Hey Nav.” Six pulled a chair up to the bed and carefully took the man’s hand, holding it still as the wasted muscles spasmed. “You look like shit.”
“Speak for yourself.” Navid’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t wipe out on the track.”
“Something wrong with my skate,” Six said dismissively. “I got a call from someone named Melanie earlier. New assistant?”
“Probably, they come and go so fast I don’t pay attention to them anymore.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t lie to me, Six.”
“I did get a call.”
“Don’t bullshit me, asshole. There was nothing wrong with your skate.”
“Shut up, Nav. What are they feeding you here anyway?”
Navid sighed and closed his eyes. “They’re treating me all right.”
“I’m paying them enough fucking money, they better be. Listen, I didn’t actually come here to shoot the shit with you. It’ll be announced soon, but I signed up for this exclusive race. It’s topside.”
Navid’s eyes opened wide again. “Tell me you’re shitting me.”
“I’m not. It’s a huge prize for winning. Anything I want that’s not illegal. And it’s the Racing Commission, they’ve got a shaky enough definition of legal as it is. When I win, I can—”
“No.” The word was like a slap in the face and Six felt his temper fraying.
“I’ve already signed up,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even. “I’m doing it whether you like it or not.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed and for what? Me? I’m dead already, I just don’t know it yet. Even if you’re doing it for yourself, it’s fucking pointless if you get torn apart by Hunters.”
“I’m not debating this with you, I’m telling you.” Six shoved himself to his feet. “I’ll come see you again before I leave. Time’s up anyway.”
“Six.” Navid caught at his hand again, just that much effort obviously exhausting him. “Please don’t.”
“See you later, Nav.” He gently squeezed Navid’s thin fingers and left the room, pausing halfway down the stairs with one hand braced against the wall to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He signed out again at the front desk and said good night to the nurse, then caught another cab home. His phone was ringing again when he went in, and he quickly picked it up, hung up on whoever was on the other end, and left it off the hook. Grabbing a six-pack of beer from the fridge, he went into the living room and turned on the TV, flipping through until he stumbled on a mindless sitcom to watch while he drank himself into a stupor.
He splashed water on his face and gingerly turned on the water into the bath, afraid the pressure of having a shower might cause his head to explode. He washed without making sudden movements then hauled himself out of the tub and dried off, beginning to relax as the headache eased to a dull throb in the back of his skull. A quick glance at the clock showed him that he didn’t have a lot of time left to make it to the arena before his last race of the season. Muttering curses under his breath, he threw on some clothes, dumped a handful of food in the cat’s bowl, grabbed his bag, and jogged outside to hail a cab.
The noise of the huge crowds outside the arena made him wince and he shoved through them with a growl to escape into the quieter back hallways. He was late enough that the dressing room was empty but he still took his time putting on his skates and pads, taking deep breaths to try and keep his heartbeat from pounding in his head. The announcer was making last call by the time he made it out to the starting line, and one of the refs frowned in disapproval, tapping her watch. He forced a smile and gave her the finger in return, then settled into his spot on the track.
The track wavered in front of him and he blinked rapidly, forcing himself to ignore the noise all around him and the sweat trickling down his back. The mingled scents of dust, sweat, and fried foods made his stomach turn over and he coughed to cover up a gag. The racer beside him glanced over then looked back at the track when he glared, muttering something about arrogant assholes. Six resisted the urge to start a fight right at the starting line and instead waited for the sound of the starting gun.
He started off strong at the sound of the gun, taking the opportunity to throw his elbow into the racer beside him, knocking the man off his skates and leaving him in the dust. The crowd roared in approval and he grinned a little, until he felt the first tremor go through his leg. He made himself ignore it, lengthening his stride to keep ahead of the pack, but the tremor grew to a tremble and he stumbled, nearly pitching face-first onto the track. A murmur of shock ran through the crowd and he saw Evita flash by on his right as he fought to keep his balance. He snarled a curse and took off after her, using the incredible speed he was so famous for.
He almost caught her just before the finish line; would have passed her with bare seconds to spare, but for another sudden tremor through his leg. The muscles went abruptly loose and he fell to one knee just over the line, tearing up that knee and both of his palms. All around him the crowd was going wild, their shrieks and excited babble only ramping up the returning pain in his head. Aware that photographers were taking pictures, he shoved himself back to his feet and headed for the exit, straight-arming a reporter out of his way. He ducked into the cool, quieter air of the dressing room and dropped down onto the bench, holding his hands out in front of him. Blood ran down his knee and a few drops fell from an especially deep gouge in the heel of his palm. He ignored it and watched his hands intently, until he saw the faint tremble go through his fingers.
“Six?” The voice made him start, and then flinch at a jolt of pain through his head.
“Fuck off, Zeph.” He blotted his hands on his shorts. “Go out and celebrate, someone beat me.”
“Uh, bitter, party of Six.” He just grinned at the look Six gave him. “Celebrating comes later. You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, when I see someone dripping blood everywhere, my first thought isn’t, ‘oh hey, they must be just fine’.” Zephyr headed across the room and grabbed the first-aid kit from the medicine closet. “So we can do this one of two ways. You can let me patch you up, or I can alert the medics. I hear they have a new backboard they’re dying to try out. I bet the media would have a fuckin’ field day with it.”
“What is it with your family and the aggressive need to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong?” Six asked.
“We like taking in strays.” Zephyr held up the first-aid kit and shook it, making it rattle. “So which is it? Me or the backboard?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Six sat back to let Zephyr see to the scrapes on his knee, hissing through his teeth at the sting of disinfectant. He could still dimly hear the crowd outside, a dull roar of humanity. Shaking his head, he glanced at Zephyr, who had moved on to disinfecting his hand and was looking up at him expectantly. “What? Want a treat?”
“You’re shaking.” Zephyr studied his face, frowning slightly. “Are you sick?” He tightened his grip on Six’s wrist as Six tried to pull away. “There’s something wrong. The headaches getting worse?”
Six just looked at him, aware that a muscle was jumping in his jaw but unable to stop it. After a moment Zephyr sighed and looked away, rummaging through the first-aid kit until he found a large band-aid to slap over the gouge in Six’s palm. They both heard the excited chatter of the other racers coming down towards the dressing rooms and Six pulled his hand from Zephyr’s grip, waving him away. He leaned over to take off his skates as Zephyr got up to put the first-aid kit away, and was halfway to the exit with his packed bag slung over one shoulder before anyone came in. Zephyr said his name but he ignored it, shoving his way out into the street.
He walked home, trying to clear his head, and opened the door just in time to hear the phone ring. Dropping his bag on the floor, he went to answer it, expecting it to be his manager demanding to know what had happened. Instead an unfamiliar female voice told him she was calling regarding Navid Khataee, and asked if he had a few moments to spare.
“Yeah,” he said, swallowing against a sudden dryness in his throat. “One sec.” He reached out to hook one of the kitchen chairs with his foot and pulled it up to the counter so he could sit down. “Okay, go ahead.”
The conversation lasted only five minutes and he spent most of it leaning on his elbow with his forehead resting on his palm and his eyes closed, muttering, ‘uh-huh’ into the phone. After hanging up, he stayed there for another few minutes, until the cat jumped up into his lap and demanded attention. He stroked it with one hand then got up and dumped more food into its bowl before going to wash and change out of his bloody, dusty clothing. In the shower he paid special attention to his hands, watching the way they moved and flexed, and shook slightly when he reached out for something. He curled his hands into fists and turned his face into the spray, forcing his mind to go blank.
He called his manager after his shower and just said, “I’m not coming tonight.” before hanging up. The phone rang again immediately but he ignored it to go get dressed, choosing his clothes with some care. By the time he left again the pinpoints of light coming through the ceiling were golden-red with the dying of the sun, speckling the sidewalk. He called a cab and gave directions to the hospice on the edge of the city, watching out the window without really seeing. When they arrived he gave the driver a handful of bills without bothering to count them and went into the building, squaring his shoulders as he approached the front desk and gave his full name.
The nurse on duty signed him in and told him he had an hour before visiting hours were over. He nodded, barely listening to her, and took the stairs up to the third floor, lifting one hand to the nurse behind the desk—Joy, he thought distantly, her name is Joy— before going into the first room on the right. The overhead lights had been turned down low, though someone had pulled the curtains back to allow outside light in. It only made the man in the bed look worse, tingeing his skin yellow and revealing how painfully thin he was, little more than skin and bone. His green eyes were the brightest thing about him, but the way they glittered spoke of fever or madness.
“Hey Nav.” Six pulled a chair up to the bed and carefully took the man’s hand, holding it still as the wasted muscles spasmed. “You look like shit.”
“Speak for yourself.” Navid’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t wipe out on the track.”
“Something wrong with my skate,” Six said dismissively. “I got a call from someone named Melanie earlier. New assistant?”
“Probably, they come and go so fast I don’t pay attention to them anymore.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t lie to me, Six.”
“I did get a call.”
“Don’t bullshit me, asshole. There was nothing wrong with your skate.”
“Shut up, Nav. What are they feeding you here anyway?”
Navid sighed and closed his eyes. “They’re treating me all right.”
“I’m paying them enough fucking money, they better be. Listen, I didn’t actually come here to shoot the shit with you. It’ll be announced soon, but I signed up for this exclusive race. It’s topside.”
Navid’s eyes opened wide again. “Tell me you’re shitting me.”
“I’m not. It’s a huge prize for winning. Anything I want that’s not illegal. And it’s the Racing Commission, they’ve got a shaky enough definition of legal as it is. When I win, I can—”
“No.” The word was like a slap in the face and Six felt his temper fraying.
“I’ve already signed up,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even. “I’m doing it whether you like it or not.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed and for what? Me? I’m dead already, I just don’t know it yet. Even if you’re doing it for yourself, it’s fucking pointless if you get torn apart by Hunters.”
“I’m not debating this with you, I’m telling you.” Six shoved himself to his feet. “I’ll come see you again before I leave. Time’s up anyway.”
“Six.” Navid caught at his hand again, just that much effort obviously exhausting him. “Please don’t.”
“See you later, Nav.” He gently squeezed Navid’s thin fingers and left the room, pausing halfway down the stairs with one hand braced against the wall to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He signed out again at the front desk and said good night to the nurse, then caught another cab home. His phone was ringing again when he went in, and he quickly picked it up, hung up on whoever was on the other end, and left it off the hook. Grabbing a six-pack of beer from the fridge, he went into the living room and turned on the TV, flipping through until he stumbled on a mindless sitcom to watch while he drank himself into a stupor.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Sidewinder - Chapter Five
A babble of rising voices drowned out anything the chairwoman might have wanted to say next. Katia, watching her, saw her sit back with a satisfied expression and exchange almost smug glances with the other members of the Committee. Something about the way they looked, self-assured and confident, made the hair on the back of Katia’s neck stand on end. She shook her head in response to Jian’s questioning look, but before she could speak, Zephyr pushed himself up from his seat next to her.
“I’ll do it.” His voice cut through the chatter, fading it into silence again. “It’s cross-country, right? I want to do it.”
“No.” Katia caught his wrist and gave him a pleading look. “You have no idea what it’s like up there.”
“Can’t be that bad, right? Besides, I’m not going to just sit back and let Six win.” He looked back at the Committee. “Sign me up.”
“Same.” That was Taz; another one, Katia thought, who hadn’t even been born when they’d been forced underground. She reached down absently to rub at her right leg, even though she knew the pain she was feeling was only phantom; fake legs didn’t feel real pain.
The younger racers agreed first, followed by a number of the older ones, though more than one refused and left the room. Evita shrugged when asked then said she might as well, leaving only Katia and Jian undecided. They exchanged a look then Jian sighed and nodded, mouthing ‘sorry’ in response to Katia’s glare. Katia looked away from her and up at the Commission, then at Zephyr, who offered her a grin.
“Fine,” she said into the waiting silence. “Tell me the rules.”
A Committee member got up and passed out neatly typewritten booklets, which Anais began to go through with them. Katia listened to her talk with half an ear, scanning through the booklet quickly on her own. A lot of it was legal jargon, disclaiming any responsibility on the part of the Racing Commission for any injuries, dismemberment, or death. The rules seemed simple enough: get from the starting point to the ending point nearly 2000 kilometres away in the shortest possible time on skates. She saw that they were allowed to bring one small pack containing supplies but otherwise they would be forced to rely on what they could scavenge around them. They would only be carrying a small camera and a recorder that they had to keep on at all times, in order to broadcast their progress back to the Commission. Other cameras, placed topside by the government to keep an eye on what was happening above them, would also send any footage back.
“What happens if someone does get injured up there?” Katia called. “Or dies?”
“Injured participants will be immediately brought home, of course,” Anais said smoothly. “We will also have armed guards stationed around the route to help protect you. The entire area has been scouted intensively and there is very little... activity left there. Just don’t go too far off the track and you should be fine.”
“And we can have anything we want?” Evita asked. “Anything at all?”
“Within reason. You can’t ask to have someone murdered, for instance.” Anais gave a little laugh that made Katia unconsciously curl her upper lip, until she caught herself doing it and made herself stop. “Nothing illegal.”
“Isn’t just going topside illegal?” Evita arched an eyebrow slightly, her tone innocence itself.
“We have special permission, of course. Any other questions? No? Then please read over the booklets. If you still wish to participate, there will be another meeting here on the Wednesday after the season end banquet, where you can officially sign up.” She got up and left the room, the other Commission members following after her like obedient ducklings.
“You are a special brand of idiot,” Katia snapped at Zephyr once they were gone. “Do you have any idea what you’ve agreed to?”
“It’s been twenty-three years. It can’t all be the same up there.” He pulled her to her feet. “Besides, you heard her. Armed guards to protect us.”
“I still don’t like it.” She looked at Jian. “You should know better too.”
“In my defense, I was only about two when everything up there crashed. Zeph’s got a point, it’s been a pretty long time.”
“You saw what ran past that camera just as well as I did.” Katia looked between them as they went quiet, then sighed. “Well, we have a few weeks. Hopefully you’ll both regain your common sense by then.”
Jian snorted. “Zeph doesn’t have any common sense.”
“I do too,” Zephyr protested as they headed out of the building. “And if Six can—” He cut off with a yelp as Jian punched him hard in the meaty part of his upper arm. “Ow.”
“Remember what I said about super-glue?” Jian smacked her fist into her other palm.
“Six, Six, Six,” Zephyr said, then stuck out his tongue and ducked behind Katia.
“Children,” Katia said absently. “Save it for when I’m not around.” She held up her hand as they exited the building and flagged down a cab, giving the driver the address of a local bar. “I need a drink.”
She ordered only a half-pint when they reached the bar, nursing it at a table while Jian and Zephyr alternately bickered and talked about the race. After a while she told them both to change the subject and relaxed a little when they did. By the time she’d finished her drink she felt more than ready to go home and relax for the evening, in preparation for her race in the morning. She said goodbye to Jian and Zephyr, who wanted to stay longer, and caught a cab home for a long hot shower and a funny movie she watched in her PJs while eating popcorn.
She went to bed early and slipped quickly into sleep, despite her spiralling thoughts. Her sleep was restless and after a while she began to dream, though it was more like a memory. In it she was five years old again, holding her father’s hand as they stepped onto the train to visit her grandparents halfway across the country. Her mother was sick with a nasty upper respiratory infection and had decided not to come. Katia wasn’t sure if she was more scared or excited, torn between looking around at the crowds of people and the enormous train, or clinging to her father’s hand. As they passed into the car, he scooped her up and held her on his hip until they reached their seats, where she knelt to press her face to the window.
The train pulled out of the station and she watched the scenery pass by for the first few hours, occasionally pointing things out to her father, who sat reading his newspaper beside her. She was just beginning to get bored with watching endless fields when she saw something bounding through the high grass towards them. Her breath misted over the window and she scrubbed at it impatiently with her sleeve, her eyes widening as the creature came out of the grass. For a moment its eyes seemed to meet hers, red and crazy, then it stood up on its hind legs and snarled at her, foam flying from its long jaws.
Katia screamed and scrambled back, almost spilling herself to the floor. Her father caught hold of her and asked her what was wrong, while other passengers craned their necks to see what the problem was. She tried to explain but it all came out garbled and after a few moments he dismissed it as a bad dream, telling her to go back to her seat. She did, but she pulled the blind down on the window and sat clutching her teddy bear.
The explosion came only minutes later, tearing the train in half and spinning its pieces across the fields. Katia was thrown into the aisle, striking her head on one of the opposite seats. Dizziness swept over her and then darkness dragged her in, the sound of screams following her down.
She opened her eyes again to warm rain on her face, running from the crumpled wreckage of the train above her. She tried to get up and found she couldn’t; something had fallen on her, pinning and crushing her leg. Her leg looked so twisted that she was confused, thinking for a moment that it couldn’t belong to her. She looked around again, trying to find her daddy, and saw only broken metal, smoke, and things she at first took to be strange life-sized dolls, like the ones in stores.
She tried again to free herself and burst into tears at a sudden sharp pain that shot up her thigh. Her screams went unanswered and eventually she slipped into unconsciousness again, while the rain puddled around her. She had jumbled memories after this, of people moving around her and bright lights shining right in her face, then the sensation of movement. Somebody placed something over her mouth and she heard garbled voices shouting to each other, then nothing until she groggily opened her eyes in a hospital room.
She didn’t understand what her mother tried to explain to her at first, asking over and over again about her father and being told over and over again that he had died in the accident. Doctors in white coats came in and out, talking over her head with words she didn’t understand, though she gradually came to realize that the word ‘amputation’ referred to her right leg, missing below the knee. It frightened her and she cried, refusing to look at it for a long time, even when they began rehabilitation to fit her with a prosthetic and teach her to walk again.
The monsters began to appear shortly after, while she was still struggling to coordinate herself. She saw them on the news and read the fear on her mother’s white, pinched face, especially when she said that she’d seen one before, on the train. She had almost learned to walk again when they evacuated the hospital, bundling her and her mother into a long army truck and taking them to an underground bunker. She heard more words she didn’t really understand, words like ‘radiation’ and ‘mutant’. She didn’t want to go down into the dark tunnel leading under the earth but they ignored her tearful pleadings and took her anyway, away from sunlight and the open blue sky forever.
Katia woke with a jerk from the memory-dream, feeling nauseated and overheated. She ran both hands back through her hair and swung her legs out of bed, sitting up and looking down at what was left of her flesh right leg. She ran a hand down her bare thigh and across onto the smooth plastic covering the prosthetic, then shook her head hard and got up, making her way into the bathroom to wash off the nightmare-induced sweat. It was nearly dawn and she had a race in a few hours, one she was determined to win in order to maintain her standing. After that she would convince Jian and Zephyr that going topside was the last thing they should ever do.
“I’ll do it.” His voice cut through the chatter, fading it into silence again. “It’s cross-country, right? I want to do it.”
“No.” Katia caught his wrist and gave him a pleading look. “You have no idea what it’s like up there.”
“Can’t be that bad, right? Besides, I’m not going to just sit back and let Six win.” He looked back at the Committee. “Sign me up.”
“Same.” That was Taz; another one, Katia thought, who hadn’t even been born when they’d been forced underground. She reached down absently to rub at her right leg, even though she knew the pain she was feeling was only phantom; fake legs didn’t feel real pain.
The younger racers agreed first, followed by a number of the older ones, though more than one refused and left the room. Evita shrugged when asked then said she might as well, leaving only Katia and Jian undecided. They exchanged a look then Jian sighed and nodded, mouthing ‘sorry’ in response to Katia’s glare. Katia looked away from her and up at the Commission, then at Zephyr, who offered her a grin.
“Fine,” she said into the waiting silence. “Tell me the rules.”
A Committee member got up and passed out neatly typewritten booklets, which Anais began to go through with them. Katia listened to her talk with half an ear, scanning through the booklet quickly on her own. A lot of it was legal jargon, disclaiming any responsibility on the part of the Racing Commission for any injuries, dismemberment, or death. The rules seemed simple enough: get from the starting point to the ending point nearly 2000 kilometres away in the shortest possible time on skates. She saw that they were allowed to bring one small pack containing supplies but otherwise they would be forced to rely on what they could scavenge around them. They would only be carrying a small camera and a recorder that they had to keep on at all times, in order to broadcast their progress back to the Commission. Other cameras, placed topside by the government to keep an eye on what was happening above them, would also send any footage back.
“What happens if someone does get injured up there?” Katia called. “Or dies?”
“Injured participants will be immediately brought home, of course,” Anais said smoothly. “We will also have armed guards stationed around the route to help protect you. The entire area has been scouted intensively and there is very little... activity left there. Just don’t go too far off the track and you should be fine.”
“And we can have anything we want?” Evita asked. “Anything at all?”
“Within reason. You can’t ask to have someone murdered, for instance.” Anais gave a little laugh that made Katia unconsciously curl her upper lip, until she caught herself doing it and made herself stop. “Nothing illegal.”
“Isn’t just going topside illegal?” Evita arched an eyebrow slightly, her tone innocence itself.
“We have special permission, of course. Any other questions? No? Then please read over the booklets. If you still wish to participate, there will be another meeting here on the Wednesday after the season end banquet, where you can officially sign up.” She got up and left the room, the other Commission members following after her like obedient ducklings.
“You are a special brand of idiot,” Katia snapped at Zephyr once they were gone. “Do you have any idea what you’ve agreed to?”
“It’s been twenty-three years. It can’t all be the same up there.” He pulled her to her feet. “Besides, you heard her. Armed guards to protect us.”
“I still don’t like it.” She looked at Jian. “You should know better too.”
“In my defense, I was only about two when everything up there crashed. Zeph’s got a point, it’s been a pretty long time.”
“You saw what ran past that camera just as well as I did.” Katia looked between them as they went quiet, then sighed. “Well, we have a few weeks. Hopefully you’ll both regain your common sense by then.”
Jian snorted. “Zeph doesn’t have any common sense.”
“I do too,” Zephyr protested as they headed out of the building. “And if Six can—” He cut off with a yelp as Jian punched him hard in the meaty part of his upper arm. “Ow.”
“Remember what I said about super-glue?” Jian smacked her fist into her other palm.
“Six, Six, Six,” Zephyr said, then stuck out his tongue and ducked behind Katia.
“Children,” Katia said absently. “Save it for when I’m not around.” She held up her hand as they exited the building and flagged down a cab, giving the driver the address of a local bar. “I need a drink.”
She ordered only a half-pint when they reached the bar, nursing it at a table while Jian and Zephyr alternately bickered and talked about the race. After a while she told them both to change the subject and relaxed a little when they did. By the time she’d finished her drink she felt more than ready to go home and relax for the evening, in preparation for her race in the morning. She said goodbye to Jian and Zephyr, who wanted to stay longer, and caught a cab home for a long hot shower and a funny movie she watched in her PJs while eating popcorn.
She went to bed early and slipped quickly into sleep, despite her spiralling thoughts. Her sleep was restless and after a while she began to dream, though it was more like a memory. In it she was five years old again, holding her father’s hand as they stepped onto the train to visit her grandparents halfway across the country. Her mother was sick with a nasty upper respiratory infection and had decided not to come. Katia wasn’t sure if she was more scared or excited, torn between looking around at the crowds of people and the enormous train, or clinging to her father’s hand. As they passed into the car, he scooped her up and held her on his hip until they reached their seats, where she knelt to press her face to the window.
The train pulled out of the station and she watched the scenery pass by for the first few hours, occasionally pointing things out to her father, who sat reading his newspaper beside her. She was just beginning to get bored with watching endless fields when she saw something bounding through the high grass towards them. Her breath misted over the window and she scrubbed at it impatiently with her sleeve, her eyes widening as the creature came out of the grass. For a moment its eyes seemed to meet hers, red and crazy, then it stood up on its hind legs and snarled at her, foam flying from its long jaws.
Katia screamed and scrambled back, almost spilling herself to the floor. Her father caught hold of her and asked her what was wrong, while other passengers craned their necks to see what the problem was. She tried to explain but it all came out garbled and after a few moments he dismissed it as a bad dream, telling her to go back to her seat. She did, but she pulled the blind down on the window and sat clutching her teddy bear.
The explosion came only minutes later, tearing the train in half and spinning its pieces across the fields. Katia was thrown into the aisle, striking her head on one of the opposite seats. Dizziness swept over her and then darkness dragged her in, the sound of screams following her down.
She opened her eyes again to warm rain on her face, running from the crumpled wreckage of the train above her. She tried to get up and found she couldn’t; something had fallen on her, pinning and crushing her leg. Her leg looked so twisted that she was confused, thinking for a moment that it couldn’t belong to her. She looked around again, trying to find her daddy, and saw only broken metal, smoke, and things she at first took to be strange life-sized dolls, like the ones in stores.
She tried again to free herself and burst into tears at a sudden sharp pain that shot up her thigh. Her screams went unanswered and eventually she slipped into unconsciousness again, while the rain puddled around her. She had jumbled memories after this, of people moving around her and bright lights shining right in her face, then the sensation of movement. Somebody placed something over her mouth and she heard garbled voices shouting to each other, then nothing until she groggily opened her eyes in a hospital room.
She didn’t understand what her mother tried to explain to her at first, asking over and over again about her father and being told over and over again that he had died in the accident. Doctors in white coats came in and out, talking over her head with words she didn’t understand, though she gradually came to realize that the word ‘amputation’ referred to her right leg, missing below the knee. It frightened her and she cried, refusing to look at it for a long time, even when they began rehabilitation to fit her with a prosthetic and teach her to walk again.
The monsters began to appear shortly after, while she was still struggling to coordinate herself. She saw them on the news and read the fear on her mother’s white, pinched face, especially when she said that she’d seen one before, on the train. She had almost learned to walk again when they evacuated the hospital, bundling her and her mother into a long army truck and taking them to an underground bunker. She heard more words she didn’t really understand, words like ‘radiation’ and ‘mutant’. She didn’t want to go down into the dark tunnel leading under the earth but they ignored her tearful pleadings and took her anyway, away from sunlight and the open blue sky forever.
Katia woke with a jerk from the memory-dream, feeling nauseated and overheated. She ran both hands back through her hair and swung her legs out of bed, sitting up and looking down at what was left of her flesh right leg. She ran a hand down her bare thigh and across onto the smooth plastic covering the prosthetic, then shook her head hard and got up, making her way into the bathroom to wash off the nightmare-induced sweat. It was nearly dawn and she had a race in a few hours, one she was determined to win in order to maintain her standing. After that she would convince Jian and Zephyr that going topside was the last thing they should ever do.
Sidewinder - Chapter Four
“So what do you think of Six’s announcement that he’ll be retiring after this mysterious last race?”
Jian stared at the microphone shoved in her face then back up at the reporter holding it, feeling the muscle beneath her eye twitch slightly. “Um, I don’t give a shit? I’ll be glad to see him gone? I’m trying to shop, fuck off?”
She pushed through the mob of reporters who had descended on her shortly after she’d arrived downtown, resisting the urge to clobber one particularly stubborn newswoman with her backpack. She ducked into the nearest store when they moved to follow her, still shouting questions, and headed straight for the back, where she pretended to browse racks of outrageously priced scraps of cloth masquerading as clothing until the reporters trailed away to yell at someone else.
“You’re Jian Sun, right?” The salesgirl gave her a shy smile. “I saw your last race, you were really cool. Um, we have a back entrance if you want to use it. There’s still a couple reporters lurking outside.”
“I’d really appreciate that.” Jian followed her out through the employee area to the back door and paused to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before going out the door. It opened into an alley and she glanced both ways before jogging across to the building on the opposite side and using its fire escape to climb up onto the roof. From there she could watch the street below and after a few moments she spotted the reporters waiting for her to come out. She stuck her tongue out at them and headed across the roof, jumping to the next building and then the one after it before climbing back down to the ground.
Her phone rang as she was going through some CDs in another store and she answered automatically, thinking it was Katia. Instead it was her manager, Paul, stumbling all over his words as he ordered her to meet him at his office as soon as she could get there. Curiosity piqued, she agreed to head right over and hung up, pausing just long enough to go up to the counter and pay for a CD she particularly wanted before she caught a cab over to the office.
The secretary ushered her right in and she took a seat in front of Paul’s big oak desk, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. Paul was rifling through a pile of papers and silently handed her a sheet of paper with the Racing Commission’s logo emblazoned across the top. She read it without speaking, her eyebrows steadily rising with each sentence.
Dear Ms. Sun, it read. Your performance in this season’s races has been outstanding and an example to all competitors. In view of this, we have decided to extend you an invitation to an elite race that will begin after the season’s end. If you are interested, please have your manager contact us for further details.
It had been signed by the Commission’s chairwoman and seemed legitimate as far as Jian could tell. She looked up at Paul and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know what this is about?”
“Who cares, Jian? Think of the prestige. Tell me you’ll do it.”
“Do I have to agree to this without even knowing what the hell they want me to do?” Jian scanned the letter again. “I guess it does say to ask for further details. All right, stop drooling. Ask them for further details and then I’ll decide if I want to participate. And while I’m here.” She grinned when his smile faded. “Get these reporters off my junk. They’re even worse than usual thanks to Six, and the next one to ask me what I think about him is going to get their camera shoved up their ass.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Paul sighed.
“Thanks. Call me when you find out what’s happening.” She blew him a kiss and got up, tipping the secretary a wink as she went out the door.
Outside on the street, she debated going back to shopping then hailed another cab and gave the driver Katia’s address. No one answered her knock at the door but when she tried the doorknob, it turned under her hand. Shrugging, she let herself in, calling for Katia and Zephyr as she went through the house. When she didn’t find anyone, she just grabbed a snack from the kitchen and flopped down on the couch in the living room to read magazines until they came back home.
Zephyr startled her out of her quiet reading almost two hours later, bursting into the house while chattering away to Katia, who came in behind him much more sedately. Jian got up to greet them and found herself swept up into a big bear hug by Zephyr, enough to lift her slightly off her feet. She squirmed free and watched him run into the kitchen, then looked at Katia and raised her eyebrows.
“Did he get a treat from the vet?” she asked.
Katia snorted. “We were actually talking to our managers. The Racing Commission sent us letters—”
“To some sort of elite special race? I got it too. I’m waiting on Paul to get me the details.”
“Same. It’s kind of exciting though, right? We were going to go out to dinner to celebrate. Want to come?”
“You know I do.”
“This must be what Six was talking about,” Zephyr said, coming back into the hall with a glass of water in one hand. He gestured with it as he added, “It must be a big deal if he’s retiring afterwards.”
“Zeph. I love you, I do.” Jian took him by the upper arms, smiling up at him. “But if you mention that name to me one more time today, I’m going to superglue your lips together.”
“All right, all right. Peace, Jian. You coming to dinner with us?” He grinned. “Stupid question. Pizza okay with you?”
“Pizza’s fine.” Jian let him go and linked an arm with Katia’s as they followed him out the door again.
They went to the usual pizza place, a little corner shop run by a husband and wife team, with occasional help from their teenage daughter. The conversation centred mostly on what an elite race could entail, and the ideas got increasingly silly the further they got through the pitcher of beer they’d ordered along with their pizza. By the time they left it was nearing midnight and Jian was feeling pleasantly buzzed, her cheeks warm with alcohol. She slung an arm around Katia’s waist as they walked, humming to herself.
She accepted Katia’s offer to spend the night and all three of them curled up in the living room to watch a movie, passing a bowl of popcorn back and forth. Katia fell asleep halfway through, her head on Jian’s shoulder, and roused only grudgingly once the movie was over. They said goodnight to Zephyr and went upstairs to change for bed and brush their teeth before crawling under the covers together.
“You still excited?” Jian asked once they’d made themselves comfortable. “I just want to find out what it’s all about.”
“Tomorrow,” Katia said through a yawn. “Right now I’m more interested in sleep. Night, Jian.”
“Night, Kat.” Jian closed her eyes but sleep was a long time in coming as her mind ran through all the ideas they’d come up with during dinner, and then added a few more. Eventually she drifted off, and dreamed of racing through dark stone tunnels as something huge and panting chased after her.
Her phone woke her the next morning, blaring from the pocket of her jeans, which she’d left crumpled up on Katia’s carpet the night before. She hung half out of the bed and groped around until she found it, opened it, and held it to her ear, muttering a hello. Paul sounded disgustingly cheerful as he told her he had a meeting for her to attend later that afternoon with the Racing Commission, where they would explain everything. She grunted acknowledgement and hung up on him, pulling herself back under the covers and curling up against Katia’s back. She dozed for a while longer, drifting in a state somewhere between consciousness and sleep, and woke again fully when Katia woke and sat up, stretching.
Zephyr had taken the phone calls from their managers and let Katia know over breakfast, nearly bouncing out of his seat with excitement. Jian flicked a bit of cereal at him and told him to settle down, but he was still bouncy as they left for that afternoon’s meeting, held at the Racing Commission’s downtown highrise. He only settled somewhat in the elevator up to the meeting room, going quiet as they were shown into a large suite tastefully decorated with antique furniture and minimal decoration. They weren’t the first ones there; Skye Smith was already seated on one of the couches, looking around with interest. He greeted them with a smile but shook his head when asked if he knew anything yet.
Other racers trickled in over the next hour, all of them S-class racers with high standings. Jian placed most of them as racers she’d competed with but didn’t really know, and wasn’t sure whether to be glad or not when Evita came in, still wearing sunglasses despite the pleasant dimness of the interior lights. Evita nodded to them in greeting but still found herself a seat in one of the single armchairs scattered around the room, crossing her long legs and glancing around coolly. Taz was the last to come in and Jian breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t going to have to deal with Six in person after far too much time spent hearing about him.
The group spent some time talking to each other in low voices about the race, comparing ideas and thinking aloud. Jian watched the door and sat up when it opened to admit the Racing Commission, a governing body made up of five members and the chairwoman. The level of chatter in the room gradually died away as the racers turned their attention to the Commission.
The chairwoman greeted them with a smile and introduced herself as Anais McCall, then named each of the other Commission members. Jian barely paid them any attention, silently urging them to get on with it. Beside her she could feel how tense Katia was, and Zephyr had his arms crossed over his chest so tightly he was almost hugging himself, his eyes wide as he listened to Anais speak.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why you were called here,” Anais said finally. “You’ve been chosen as the best of the best to participate in a very special race, one which will reward the winner with any one thing of their choice, as well as bragging rights for life. This race will be like nothing you’ve ever done before, and it will not be held here, in the arena.”
“Where then?” someone asked cautiously, after a moment of silence.
With a smile, Anais turned on the big-screen TV mounted on the wall nearby. It stayed fuzzy for a moment, then the picture gradually cleared into a view of a dusty, abandoned street. The buildings to either side leaned crazily, and in some cases had collapsed completely into rubble. For long moments nothing moved, then something tall and skinny flashed in front of the camera, giving them a brief glimpse of leathery grey skin and impossibly long, triple-jointed legs. Jian heard someone gasp quietly but couldn’t take her eyes away from the screen.
“Yes,” Anais said in response to a murmured question. “If you participate, you will be racing topside."
Jian stared at the microphone shoved in her face then back up at the reporter holding it, feeling the muscle beneath her eye twitch slightly. “Um, I don’t give a shit? I’ll be glad to see him gone? I’m trying to shop, fuck off?”
She pushed through the mob of reporters who had descended on her shortly after she’d arrived downtown, resisting the urge to clobber one particularly stubborn newswoman with her backpack. She ducked into the nearest store when they moved to follow her, still shouting questions, and headed straight for the back, where she pretended to browse racks of outrageously priced scraps of cloth masquerading as clothing until the reporters trailed away to yell at someone else.
“You’re Jian Sun, right?” The salesgirl gave her a shy smile. “I saw your last race, you were really cool. Um, we have a back entrance if you want to use it. There’s still a couple reporters lurking outside.”
“I’d really appreciate that.” Jian followed her out through the employee area to the back door and paused to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before going out the door. It opened into an alley and she glanced both ways before jogging across to the building on the opposite side and using its fire escape to climb up onto the roof. From there she could watch the street below and after a few moments she spotted the reporters waiting for her to come out. She stuck her tongue out at them and headed across the roof, jumping to the next building and then the one after it before climbing back down to the ground.
Her phone rang as she was going through some CDs in another store and she answered automatically, thinking it was Katia. Instead it was her manager, Paul, stumbling all over his words as he ordered her to meet him at his office as soon as she could get there. Curiosity piqued, she agreed to head right over and hung up, pausing just long enough to go up to the counter and pay for a CD she particularly wanted before she caught a cab over to the office.
The secretary ushered her right in and she took a seat in front of Paul’s big oak desk, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. Paul was rifling through a pile of papers and silently handed her a sheet of paper with the Racing Commission’s logo emblazoned across the top. She read it without speaking, her eyebrows steadily rising with each sentence.
Dear Ms. Sun, it read. Your performance in this season’s races has been outstanding and an example to all competitors. In view of this, we have decided to extend you an invitation to an elite race that will begin after the season’s end. If you are interested, please have your manager contact us for further details.
It had been signed by the Commission’s chairwoman and seemed legitimate as far as Jian could tell. She looked up at Paul and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know what this is about?”
“Who cares, Jian? Think of the prestige. Tell me you’ll do it.”
“Do I have to agree to this without even knowing what the hell they want me to do?” Jian scanned the letter again. “I guess it does say to ask for further details. All right, stop drooling. Ask them for further details and then I’ll decide if I want to participate. And while I’m here.” She grinned when his smile faded. “Get these reporters off my junk. They’re even worse than usual thanks to Six, and the next one to ask me what I think about him is going to get their camera shoved up their ass.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Paul sighed.
“Thanks. Call me when you find out what’s happening.” She blew him a kiss and got up, tipping the secretary a wink as she went out the door.
Outside on the street, she debated going back to shopping then hailed another cab and gave the driver Katia’s address. No one answered her knock at the door but when she tried the doorknob, it turned under her hand. Shrugging, she let herself in, calling for Katia and Zephyr as she went through the house. When she didn’t find anyone, she just grabbed a snack from the kitchen and flopped down on the couch in the living room to read magazines until they came back home.
Zephyr startled her out of her quiet reading almost two hours later, bursting into the house while chattering away to Katia, who came in behind him much more sedately. Jian got up to greet them and found herself swept up into a big bear hug by Zephyr, enough to lift her slightly off her feet. She squirmed free and watched him run into the kitchen, then looked at Katia and raised her eyebrows.
“Did he get a treat from the vet?” she asked.
Katia snorted. “We were actually talking to our managers. The Racing Commission sent us letters—”
“To some sort of elite special race? I got it too. I’m waiting on Paul to get me the details.”
“Same. It’s kind of exciting though, right? We were going to go out to dinner to celebrate. Want to come?”
“You know I do.”
“This must be what Six was talking about,” Zephyr said, coming back into the hall with a glass of water in one hand. He gestured with it as he added, “It must be a big deal if he’s retiring afterwards.”
“Zeph. I love you, I do.” Jian took him by the upper arms, smiling up at him. “But if you mention that name to me one more time today, I’m going to superglue your lips together.”
“All right, all right. Peace, Jian. You coming to dinner with us?” He grinned. “Stupid question. Pizza okay with you?”
“Pizza’s fine.” Jian let him go and linked an arm with Katia’s as they followed him out the door again.
They went to the usual pizza place, a little corner shop run by a husband and wife team, with occasional help from their teenage daughter. The conversation centred mostly on what an elite race could entail, and the ideas got increasingly silly the further they got through the pitcher of beer they’d ordered along with their pizza. By the time they left it was nearing midnight and Jian was feeling pleasantly buzzed, her cheeks warm with alcohol. She slung an arm around Katia’s waist as they walked, humming to herself.
She accepted Katia’s offer to spend the night and all three of them curled up in the living room to watch a movie, passing a bowl of popcorn back and forth. Katia fell asleep halfway through, her head on Jian’s shoulder, and roused only grudgingly once the movie was over. They said goodnight to Zephyr and went upstairs to change for bed and brush their teeth before crawling under the covers together.
“You still excited?” Jian asked once they’d made themselves comfortable. “I just want to find out what it’s all about.”
“Tomorrow,” Katia said through a yawn. “Right now I’m more interested in sleep. Night, Jian.”
“Night, Kat.” Jian closed her eyes but sleep was a long time in coming as her mind ran through all the ideas they’d come up with during dinner, and then added a few more. Eventually she drifted off, and dreamed of racing through dark stone tunnels as something huge and panting chased after her.
Her phone woke her the next morning, blaring from the pocket of her jeans, which she’d left crumpled up on Katia’s carpet the night before. She hung half out of the bed and groped around until she found it, opened it, and held it to her ear, muttering a hello. Paul sounded disgustingly cheerful as he told her he had a meeting for her to attend later that afternoon with the Racing Commission, where they would explain everything. She grunted acknowledgement and hung up on him, pulling herself back under the covers and curling up against Katia’s back. She dozed for a while longer, drifting in a state somewhere between consciousness and sleep, and woke again fully when Katia woke and sat up, stretching.
Zephyr had taken the phone calls from their managers and let Katia know over breakfast, nearly bouncing out of his seat with excitement. Jian flicked a bit of cereal at him and told him to settle down, but he was still bouncy as they left for that afternoon’s meeting, held at the Racing Commission’s downtown highrise. He only settled somewhat in the elevator up to the meeting room, going quiet as they were shown into a large suite tastefully decorated with antique furniture and minimal decoration. They weren’t the first ones there; Skye Smith was already seated on one of the couches, looking around with interest. He greeted them with a smile but shook his head when asked if he knew anything yet.
Other racers trickled in over the next hour, all of them S-class racers with high standings. Jian placed most of them as racers she’d competed with but didn’t really know, and wasn’t sure whether to be glad or not when Evita came in, still wearing sunglasses despite the pleasant dimness of the interior lights. Evita nodded to them in greeting but still found herself a seat in one of the single armchairs scattered around the room, crossing her long legs and glancing around coolly. Taz was the last to come in and Jian breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t going to have to deal with Six in person after far too much time spent hearing about him.
The group spent some time talking to each other in low voices about the race, comparing ideas and thinking aloud. Jian watched the door and sat up when it opened to admit the Racing Commission, a governing body made up of five members and the chairwoman. The level of chatter in the room gradually died away as the racers turned their attention to the Commission.
The chairwoman greeted them with a smile and introduced herself as Anais McCall, then named each of the other Commission members. Jian barely paid them any attention, silently urging them to get on with it. Beside her she could feel how tense Katia was, and Zephyr had his arms crossed over his chest so tightly he was almost hugging himself, his eyes wide as he listened to Anais speak.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why you were called here,” Anais said finally. “You’ve been chosen as the best of the best to participate in a very special race, one which will reward the winner with any one thing of their choice, as well as bragging rights for life. This race will be like nothing you’ve ever done before, and it will not be held here, in the arena.”
“Where then?” someone asked cautiously, after a moment of silence.
With a smile, Anais turned on the big-screen TV mounted on the wall nearby. It stayed fuzzy for a moment, then the picture gradually cleared into a view of a dusty, abandoned street. The buildings to either side leaned crazily, and in some cases had collapsed completely into rubble. For long moments nothing moved, then something tall and skinny flashed in front of the camera, giving them a brief glimpse of leathery grey skin and impossibly long, triple-jointed legs. Jian heard someone gasp quietly but couldn’t take her eyes away from the screen.
“Yes,” Anais said in response to a murmured question. “If you participate, you will be racing topside."
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Sidewinder - Chapter Three
Zephyr waited an hour to make sure Six was sleeping deeply and easily before he got up and started to wander around the apartment, studying the bits and pieces of Six’s life. The cat followed him as he went into the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer from the fridge, meowing and running back and forth to its food dish. He found a box of cat food in the cupboard and dumped a liberal amount into the cat’s dish, then put the box back and browsed the cereal boxes beside it.
“You’d think someone worth millions would have more than cereal and crackers in his cupboards,” Zephyr muttered to himself. “What the hell does he do with all that money?” He glanced at the cat, who just lashed its tail and went back to eating. “Well, you’re no help.”
He left the cat to eat and checked out the living room, poking at the armchair in front of the TV with his toe before he sat down in it. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to read his sister’s text message demanding to know where he’d disappeared to. Instead of answering it he turned the phone off and shoved it back into his pocket, stretching and wriggling his shoulders into the back of the armchair. The cat jumped into his lap and he stroked it for a minute before letting his eyes slide shut so he could slip into a light doze.
He woke again just before the morning lights would come on and groggily pushed himself out of the armchair to go check on Six. Six still slept, curled up on his side with his knees drawn up into his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. Zephyr still held two fingers to his throat to check his pulse, only leaving the room again when he was satisfied that Six was in no danger. He went to the bathroom to empty his bladder and decided to check the medicine cabinet after he’d washed his hands, thinking of the bottle of pills in Six’s kitchen. His eyebrows went up as he saw the row of bottles taking up the entire top shelf, and he was just reaching up to take one down and read its label when a hand appeared over his shoulder and slammed the medicine cabinet shut almost on his fingers.
“Morning, Six,” he managed around the shock that had catapulted his heart into his throat, watching Six in the mirror. Six glared at him, mouth set in an angry line, though the effect was somewhat spoiled by his sleep-mussed dark hair.
“Out.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Now.”
“I was just—” Zephyr started, before Six pushed him bodily out of the bathroom and slammed the door. “Okay then,” he called through the door. “Want me to make you some breakfast?”
He waited for an answer then shrugged when he heard the shower start and went back into the kitchen to see what he could find to cook. By the time Six came back out, freshly washed and wearing clean jeans, Zephyr had managed to whip up a plate of scrambled eggs and pre-cooked bacon, accompanied by a mug of black coffee.
“Eat,” he said, pointing at the plate. “Where’s all your food? What, are you living on cereal?”
“Why are you still here? Take a hint and go home.” Six sat down at the table and curled his lip at the plate of eggs and bacon, though he downed half the mug of coffee despite its heat. “You’re like the one-night stand from hell, and we didn’t even fuck.”
“You dated my sister. I’m allowed to worry about you.”
“I don’t like you,” Six said with exaggerated slowness, as though he were talking to a small, dumb child. “I don’t want you here. You’re annoying, obnoxious, and more than a little pathetic. Get out.”
“All right, all right.” Zephyr held up both hands. “I’m out. At least try to take care of yourself, or pretty soon you’re going to be useless on the track.” He saw Six’s expression change from annoyance to real anger mixed with something that looked a lot like fear. “Hey, you okay?”
“Get your fucking ass out of my apartment.” Six didn’t raise his voice or even put down the mug of coffee, but Zephyr still felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.
He got hurriedly to his feet and headed for the door, glancing self-consciously back over his shoulder to see if Six was following him. He saw nothing but the cat, which followed him to the door. He bent down briefly to scratch its head, then let himself out, quietly shutting the door behind him and jogging down the steps to the street. The lights around him began to steadily brighten as he walked towards home, hands stuffed in the pockets of his board shorts, and after a few minutes he began to whistle to himself.
The house was quiet when he got home, curtains and shades still drawn against the lights. He let himself in by the back door, going straight down the stairs to his basement room so he could strip down and crawl into bed. He fell asleep almost immediately and didn’t wake until Katia banged on his door and yelled for him to help her tidy up the living room before their parents came over.
“So what happened to you last night?” she asked when he finally managed to drag himself out to help her.
“I told you I was going to make sure Six got home okay.”
“It took you all night?” She handed him the broom, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, he had to yell at me, then I made sure he wasn’t going to die in his sleep and cooked him breakfast, then he yelled at me some more and I came home.” Zephyr swept half-heartedly at the wooden floor. “I think there’s something wrong.”
“With you? Yes.” Katia stuck her tongue out at him, laughing and ducking away when he reached over to swat her.
“No, with Six. He had all these pill bottles in his cabinet and I thought he was going to kill me when I told him he’d end up useless on the track if he didn’t start eating something other than cereal.”
“He’s always taken racing seriously. Think he’s taking steroids or something? He is pissed off all the time.”
Zephyr shrugged. “No idea. I’d ask but I kind of like my head where it is. Speaking of, you coming out to the track with me tonight?”
“Sure. I’ll see if Jian wants to come.”
“One day you should just super-glue yourselves to each other. It would probably amount to the same thing.” He grinned and handed her back the broom. “Good enough. I’m going for a shower.”
“Put on something other than shorts,” she called after him.
He gave her a wave and went into the bathroom to turn the shower on, cranking it up hot enough to send billows of steam floating through the air. His skin turned red almost as soon as he stepped in, continuing to tingle with the heat as he washed. He basked in it until it was time to get out and went into his bedroom to change into jeans per Katia’s request.
They spent a slightly strained couple of hours with their parents over a long lunch, keeping the conversation mostly to Katia’s mother’s burgeoning gardening business— and the troubles of growing plants underground—and Zephyr’s father’s construction company. The topic of racing wasn’t brought up other than a brief congratulations to Zephyr for passing the qualifiers. After they finally left, Zephyr sprawled across the couch and heaved out a big sigh.
“I love them but they’re tiring.” He waved a hand at Katia, who had begun clearing dishes from the table. “I bet they’re glad Six dumped you.”
“You’ve got Six on the brain, Zeph.”
“I do not.”
“Do too. Come help me clear the table.”
“No,” he said, but got up anyway and began taking plates into the kitchen.
They left for the track in the late afternoon, catching the shuttle bus directly to the entrance. A crowd had already gathered, waiting impatiently to be let in for the night’s race. Bookies did a brisk business in bets on who would place second and third; Six was racing tonight and that just meant everyone knew who would win first place already.
They went in through a side door open to all racers, regardless of whether they were racing that day or not, and made their way up to the VIP seats. Zephyr left Katia to save their seats and ran back down to the concession stand to buy drinks and snacks. He paused a moment by the racers’ holding area, nodding to the people he knew, but he didn’t see Six anywhere. Telling himself that wasn’t why he’d stopped, Zephyr made his way back up to the VIP area and presented Katia with her drink before flopping into the chair beside her.
The doors opened soon after they were settled and the crowds flooded in, filling the rest of the arena with a colourful moving carpet. Shouts and wolf whistles rang through the air as the racers began to warm up and Zephyr saw Evita pause to blow the crowd a kiss. He shook his head and glanced up as Jian joined them, sliding into the empty seat beside Katia with a breathless, “Sorry I’m late.”
“Did you see Six on your way in?” Zephyr asked.
“I thank the gods every time I don’t see Six.” Jian gave Katia a pointed look. “I see what you mean.” She tapped her temple, making Katia snort a laugh.
“Ha ha, you two are funny.” Zephyr slumped down in his seat. “I just like watching him race.”
“Yeah, I bet. All that sweat and muscle.” Jian ducked the handful of peanuts he tossed at her. “I guess if we could just find a way to permanently duct-tape his mouth, I’d agree with you.”
“Kinky.” Zephyr sat up again as the announcer called the racers into position. He spotted Six at the end, tightening one of his elbow pads, his gaze fixed on the track. Six dropped into position along with all the other racers until the gun went off, and then immediately shot to the front of the pack in a few powerful strokes.
“Six wins again, boring,” Jian muttered. “Evita needs to hurry up and kick his ass.”
Zephyr glanced across to where Evita was racing head to head against a big bruiser named Taz, who’d already gained something of a reputation as a hothead. Even as Zephyr watched, he attempted to trip Evita up, only to have her neatly avoid it and trip him instead, sending him to the track in a cloud of dust. The crowd reacted with both delight and boos, drowning out the announcer’s play-by-play.
Evita put on a burst of speed halfway through the race, flashing past the second-place racer and coming up hard on Six’s heels. Six glanced back then slowed slightly, allowing her to come up beside him. Zephyr heard Katia mutter, “Don’t let him do it to you, Evita,” but Evita didn’t seem to notice the trap set for her, her eyes focused on the upcoming finish line. For a moment they raced side by side and Evita seemed on the verge of passing Six, then Six casually shot out an arm and clotheslined her, sending her sprawling in the dirt of the track.
Six passed the finish line first and was followed a few moments later by a pair of racers Zephyr didn’t know very well. Evita came in fourth, after scrambling back to her feet and putting in a massive effort to pass the remaining racers just inches away from the finish line. Her body language said she was furious but she only brushed dirt off her shorts and lifted a hand to a group of teenagers screaming her name. Zephyr saw her twitch slightly as Six moved past her and could practically feel her wanting to trip him up, but she only crossed her arms and turned her back to him.
“Now where’s he going?” Zephyr pushed himself up to watch Six leave the track.
“Zeph, darling, you have a problem. Who cares where he’s going?” Jian punched him in the shoulder. “Good riddance.”
“Up there.” Katia pointed to one of the big-screen TVs hanging from the ceiling. Six had just joined his manager in what was obviously a pre-arranged broadcast, and stood facing a number of reporters.
“I’ve been approached by the Racing Commission about a one-of-a-kind race that will be announced shortly,” Six said into the cameras, his voice echoing through the arena. “I agreed to this race and I plan to win it.” He looked down for a moment then his eyes flicked back up, steady and calm. “It will be my last race. After I win, I will be retiring from the sport.” He nodded to the reporters and walked away, ignoring their shouted questions and his manager’s own shocked look.
“You’d think someone worth millions would have more than cereal and crackers in his cupboards,” Zephyr muttered to himself. “What the hell does he do with all that money?” He glanced at the cat, who just lashed its tail and went back to eating. “Well, you’re no help.”
He left the cat to eat and checked out the living room, poking at the armchair in front of the TV with his toe before he sat down in it. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to read his sister’s text message demanding to know where he’d disappeared to. Instead of answering it he turned the phone off and shoved it back into his pocket, stretching and wriggling his shoulders into the back of the armchair. The cat jumped into his lap and he stroked it for a minute before letting his eyes slide shut so he could slip into a light doze.
He woke again just before the morning lights would come on and groggily pushed himself out of the armchair to go check on Six. Six still slept, curled up on his side with his knees drawn up into his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. Zephyr still held two fingers to his throat to check his pulse, only leaving the room again when he was satisfied that Six was in no danger. He went to the bathroom to empty his bladder and decided to check the medicine cabinet after he’d washed his hands, thinking of the bottle of pills in Six’s kitchen. His eyebrows went up as he saw the row of bottles taking up the entire top shelf, and he was just reaching up to take one down and read its label when a hand appeared over his shoulder and slammed the medicine cabinet shut almost on his fingers.
“Morning, Six,” he managed around the shock that had catapulted his heart into his throat, watching Six in the mirror. Six glared at him, mouth set in an angry line, though the effect was somewhat spoiled by his sleep-mussed dark hair.
“Out.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Now.”
“I was just—” Zephyr started, before Six pushed him bodily out of the bathroom and slammed the door. “Okay then,” he called through the door. “Want me to make you some breakfast?”
He waited for an answer then shrugged when he heard the shower start and went back into the kitchen to see what he could find to cook. By the time Six came back out, freshly washed and wearing clean jeans, Zephyr had managed to whip up a plate of scrambled eggs and pre-cooked bacon, accompanied by a mug of black coffee.
“Eat,” he said, pointing at the plate. “Where’s all your food? What, are you living on cereal?”
“Why are you still here? Take a hint and go home.” Six sat down at the table and curled his lip at the plate of eggs and bacon, though he downed half the mug of coffee despite its heat. “You’re like the one-night stand from hell, and we didn’t even fuck.”
“You dated my sister. I’m allowed to worry about you.”
“I don’t like you,” Six said with exaggerated slowness, as though he were talking to a small, dumb child. “I don’t want you here. You’re annoying, obnoxious, and more than a little pathetic. Get out.”
“All right, all right.” Zephyr held up both hands. “I’m out. At least try to take care of yourself, or pretty soon you’re going to be useless on the track.” He saw Six’s expression change from annoyance to real anger mixed with something that looked a lot like fear. “Hey, you okay?”
“Get your fucking ass out of my apartment.” Six didn’t raise his voice or even put down the mug of coffee, but Zephyr still felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.
He got hurriedly to his feet and headed for the door, glancing self-consciously back over his shoulder to see if Six was following him. He saw nothing but the cat, which followed him to the door. He bent down briefly to scratch its head, then let himself out, quietly shutting the door behind him and jogging down the steps to the street. The lights around him began to steadily brighten as he walked towards home, hands stuffed in the pockets of his board shorts, and after a few minutes he began to whistle to himself.
The house was quiet when he got home, curtains and shades still drawn against the lights. He let himself in by the back door, going straight down the stairs to his basement room so he could strip down and crawl into bed. He fell asleep almost immediately and didn’t wake until Katia banged on his door and yelled for him to help her tidy up the living room before their parents came over.
“So what happened to you last night?” she asked when he finally managed to drag himself out to help her.
“I told you I was going to make sure Six got home okay.”
“It took you all night?” She handed him the broom, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, he had to yell at me, then I made sure he wasn’t going to die in his sleep and cooked him breakfast, then he yelled at me some more and I came home.” Zephyr swept half-heartedly at the wooden floor. “I think there’s something wrong.”
“With you? Yes.” Katia stuck her tongue out at him, laughing and ducking away when he reached over to swat her.
“No, with Six. He had all these pill bottles in his cabinet and I thought he was going to kill me when I told him he’d end up useless on the track if he didn’t start eating something other than cereal.”
“He’s always taken racing seriously. Think he’s taking steroids or something? He is pissed off all the time.”
Zephyr shrugged. “No idea. I’d ask but I kind of like my head where it is. Speaking of, you coming out to the track with me tonight?”
“Sure. I’ll see if Jian wants to come.”
“One day you should just super-glue yourselves to each other. It would probably amount to the same thing.” He grinned and handed her back the broom. “Good enough. I’m going for a shower.”
“Put on something other than shorts,” she called after him.
He gave her a wave and went into the bathroom to turn the shower on, cranking it up hot enough to send billows of steam floating through the air. His skin turned red almost as soon as he stepped in, continuing to tingle with the heat as he washed. He basked in it until it was time to get out and went into his bedroom to change into jeans per Katia’s request.
They spent a slightly strained couple of hours with their parents over a long lunch, keeping the conversation mostly to Katia’s mother’s burgeoning gardening business— and the troubles of growing plants underground—and Zephyr’s father’s construction company. The topic of racing wasn’t brought up other than a brief congratulations to Zephyr for passing the qualifiers. After they finally left, Zephyr sprawled across the couch and heaved out a big sigh.
“I love them but they’re tiring.” He waved a hand at Katia, who had begun clearing dishes from the table. “I bet they’re glad Six dumped you.”
“You’ve got Six on the brain, Zeph.”
“I do not.”
“Do too. Come help me clear the table.”
“No,” he said, but got up anyway and began taking plates into the kitchen.
They left for the track in the late afternoon, catching the shuttle bus directly to the entrance. A crowd had already gathered, waiting impatiently to be let in for the night’s race. Bookies did a brisk business in bets on who would place second and third; Six was racing tonight and that just meant everyone knew who would win first place already.
They went in through a side door open to all racers, regardless of whether they were racing that day or not, and made their way up to the VIP seats. Zephyr left Katia to save their seats and ran back down to the concession stand to buy drinks and snacks. He paused a moment by the racers’ holding area, nodding to the people he knew, but he didn’t see Six anywhere. Telling himself that wasn’t why he’d stopped, Zephyr made his way back up to the VIP area and presented Katia with her drink before flopping into the chair beside her.
The doors opened soon after they were settled and the crowds flooded in, filling the rest of the arena with a colourful moving carpet. Shouts and wolf whistles rang through the air as the racers began to warm up and Zephyr saw Evita pause to blow the crowd a kiss. He shook his head and glanced up as Jian joined them, sliding into the empty seat beside Katia with a breathless, “Sorry I’m late.”
“Did you see Six on your way in?” Zephyr asked.
“I thank the gods every time I don’t see Six.” Jian gave Katia a pointed look. “I see what you mean.” She tapped her temple, making Katia snort a laugh.
“Ha ha, you two are funny.” Zephyr slumped down in his seat. “I just like watching him race.”
“Yeah, I bet. All that sweat and muscle.” Jian ducked the handful of peanuts he tossed at her. “I guess if we could just find a way to permanently duct-tape his mouth, I’d agree with you.”
“Kinky.” Zephyr sat up again as the announcer called the racers into position. He spotted Six at the end, tightening one of his elbow pads, his gaze fixed on the track. Six dropped into position along with all the other racers until the gun went off, and then immediately shot to the front of the pack in a few powerful strokes.
“Six wins again, boring,” Jian muttered. “Evita needs to hurry up and kick his ass.”
Zephyr glanced across to where Evita was racing head to head against a big bruiser named Taz, who’d already gained something of a reputation as a hothead. Even as Zephyr watched, he attempted to trip Evita up, only to have her neatly avoid it and trip him instead, sending him to the track in a cloud of dust. The crowd reacted with both delight and boos, drowning out the announcer’s play-by-play.
Evita put on a burst of speed halfway through the race, flashing past the second-place racer and coming up hard on Six’s heels. Six glanced back then slowed slightly, allowing her to come up beside him. Zephyr heard Katia mutter, “Don’t let him do it to you, Evita,” but Evita didn’t seem to notice the trap set for her, her eyes focused on the upcoming finish line. For a moment they raced side by side and Evita seemed on the verge of passing Six, then Six casually shot out an arm and clotheslined her, sending her sprawling in the dirt of the track.
Six passed the finish line first and was followed a few moments later by a pair of racers Zephyr didn’t know very well. Evita came in fourth, after scrambling back to her feet and putting in a massive effort to pass the remaining racers just inches away from the finish line. Her body language said she was furious but she only brushed dirt off her shorts and lifted a hand to a group of teenagers screaming her name. Zephyr saw her twitch slightly as Six moved past her and could practically feel her wanting to trip him up, but she only crossed her arms and turned her back to him.
“Now where’s he going?” Zephyr pushed himself up to watch Six leave the track.
“Zeph, darling, you have a problem. Who cares where he’s going?” Jian punched him in the shoulder. “Good riddance.”
“Up there.” Katia pointed to one of the big-screen TVs hanging from the ceiling. Six had just joined his manager in what was obviously a pre-arranged broadcast, and stood facing a number of reporters.
“I’ve been approached by the Racing Commission about a one-of-a-kind race that will be announced shortly,” Six said into the cameras, his voice echoing through the arena. “I agreed to this race and I plan to win it.” He looked down for a moment then his eyes flicked back up, steady and calm. “It will be my last race. After I win, I will be retiring from the sport.” He nodded to the reporters and walked away, ignoring their shouted questions and his manager’s own shocked look.
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