drag us into the Chosens and make us pay that pretty little tax of theirs. Chuck us out and reel us in… that’s how they do it.”
“Do we look like City Salesmen?”
He frowns. “Guess not.”
“Who were those guys?” I motion down the street.
“Wannabe gang lords.” He lifts his goggles, revealing a pair of inquisitive blue eyes. “Don’t know how they keep winding up around here. They’re from down south, trying to make a name for themselves. Not tough enough to do it back in YakTown so they mosey up here, I guess.”
Avery crosses her arms. “How did you know about the train crash?”
“Big news,” he says. “Good thing you left when you did. Twenty miles north of YakTown ain’t nothing. Gangs’ll be on it like ants on a carcass-druggies looking to cash in on whatever’s left.”
My mind flashes back to the exploded Chute. I wonder if the government will send help if it means risking a standoff with Fringers.
“Name’s Bobby.” The boy removes his cap, rustling his hair. “You guys looking for a Pearl? That it?”
“No,” Avery starts. “Actually, we’re looking for food. We haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods, repositioning the cap on his head. “Never seen Shippers ’round these parts before. Ain’t there laws against that?”
I glance over at him. “We aren’t exactly legal.”
He shrugs. “An enemy of the Unified Party is a friend to me. I guess I don’t have to kill you or nothing.”
“We’re just passing through,” Avery says. “All we need is food. We can pay you.”
Bobby chuckles, crouching down to inspect the busted crossbow. “With what? Skyship credit ain’t good down here. Unless you got a packet of Serenity to trade with Horatio and his goons, I’m not interested.”
“Rations,” she replies. “We can get you rations after all this is over.”
“ All this is over? ” He stands. “Where you two think you’re going?”
“Seattle,” I answer.
He shakes his head, grinning. “Seattle? Sunken City Seattle? You really think the Cascade Colony’s gonna let you through?”
I hold my hand up to block the blinding sun. “The Cascade what?”
“The Colony.” He motions for us to follow him, cutting through a vacant parking lot in front of the gutted shell of a supermarket. “The Cascadians. Old George Barkley’s been heading over there twice a month ever since the smog lifted. Gotta pay the toll, though. They trust him.” He pauses. “Don’t trust nobody else.”
Avery speeds up to walk by his side. “There are people living in the mountains?”
“Of course there are people living in the mountains,” he replies. “It’s cooler up there. Not by much, but there’s shade. Trees.” He jumps a curb, leading us through a patch of scratchy grass until we’re back on another road.
I step over a large crack fracturing the center of the street. “How does this Barkley guy get over there?”
“Moving van,” Bobby answers. “Fills it up with trinkets from the city. Stuff to trade. Stuff to tinker with. What’s got you folks so interested?”
Avery glances at me, but keeps quiet.
“We’re looking for something,” I mutter.
“Good luck finding it. Barkley’s about picked the place clean.”
We cross the street and head into what was once a residential neighborhood. I stare at the vacant, country- style houses on either side of us, trying to picture them as they once were, with mass green lawns and bright new paint jobs. “Has he ever seen anything weird?”
Bobby laughs. “Weird? The whole city’s a graveyard, buddy. Ain’t nothing to see, weird or otherwise.”
Avery tugs at the front of her damp shirt. “Any chance we could catch a ride with this guy?”
“George Barkley? He takes off this afternoon. I can introduce you, but good luck.” He heads for an alleyway between two particularly scummy houses. “Never did catch your names.”
“Oh.” She grabs my shoulder as we follow him out onto the next street. “I’m Avery. And this is Jesse.”
“And you came all the way down from Skyship to Lenbrg so you could hitch a ride to Seattle?”
“It’s a long story,” I reply.
He stops suddenly, pointing at a group of well-maintained brick buildings stretching up a few streets in front of us. “That’s Uni. Main part of town. I’ll take you there, see what we can do.”
Avery smiles. “Fantastic.”
He turns around to look at us before covering his eyes with the goggles again. “Don’t get too excited. Lots of folks around here aren’t too crazy about Shippers. Sure, you ain’t government, but you ain’t Fringe either. Maybe you’re better off with that lame wanderer story after all.”
Avery and I exchange glances. The last thing we need is another fight.
“C’mon.” He takes off down the road. “I’ll keep an eye out for you. Don’t worry.”
I sigh. Says the kid with the broken crossbow.
35
Cassius dragged his weakening body through the barren desert landscape, trying to pretend that the sun wasn’t slowly killing him.
He cursed himself for following the Chute’s tracks northeast. Madame had said Fisher would head to Seattle, not Spokane. In all the confusion and horror of the night before, the details of their brief conversation had slipped his mind. Now he’d wasted precious time. He was lost.
With the morning light, the hazy outlines of the mountains came into view far off in the distance. He knew little about Washington’s geography, except that Seattle was on the other side, away from the desert. But at the rate he was traveling now, it would take him days-weeks, even-to get there.
Squat brown bushes surrounded him on all sides, the only type of vegetation that could thrive in an environment crying out for rain. He’d wandered into a hilly area, though each hill was identically brown and covered with the same ugly bushes-pockmarks on an already unsightly planet.
His plan was to find a Fringe Town. He knew the locals wouldn’t be kind to him, but he’d sneak in, grab what he could, and be out before they could do anything. If he didn’t find civilization in the next day or so, he’d be out of luck. Not only could he die of dehydration, but Fisher would escape him. After the incident on the Chute, he wasn’t sure which was worse.
He kicked the dirt, swearing to himself. Part of him wondered if this was punishment for striking out on his own, for trying to show Madame that he wasn’t going to play her game anymore. No com-pad, no weapons. He’d gotten his wish. He was completely on his own.
The sun pummeled him with each step-a constant enemy, impossible to outrun. He longed for shade, for the shadow of a tree or an old telephone pole. The sky was a pool of blue, so clear that he could see the Northwestern Skyships, tiny dots in the vast abyss.
The land was flat and lifeless, except for the snakes. He’d already run across two, and though they mostly ignored him, he remained cautious. Cassius didn’t like snakes, especially ones that weren’t part of a Chosen City zoo.
Another twenty minutes passed before he stumbled upon an old roadway, cutting through the desert and disappearing into a dumpy bunch of hills in the east.
He stepped onto the cracked pavement, eager for a sign of movement. His borrowed shoes were too big for him, and worn at the heel. Running his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair, he decided to sit for a few minutes, even though he knew it would make getting back up again infinitely more difficult. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the harsh sunlight. A warm breeze tugged at his tattered shirt.
He opened his eyes to expansive nothingness. Everything was quiet-no people rushing around like in the city. No bells or advertisements or announcements. He couldn’t stand it.
Then, a noise.
At first he thought he had imagined it, that he was going crazy from exhaustion. But the more he paid
