H124 knew there was no way they’d blend in. If anyone really looked at them, even for a second, it was over.
“Hey,” said the woman. “You’re not from here.” She pulled on her companion’s shoulder. “Look at them! They’ve been eating well, wherever they’re from!”
The man sized up Rowan. “Looks like a Badlander.”
The couple moved forward, blocking their way. “You a Badlander?” the man asked.
Rowan shook his head. H124 pulled away from him, tensing for a confrontation. “I’m just like you, trying to survive,” he said.
The woman plucked at her own filthy sweater, nudging her friend with hunger in her eyes. “We can get a lot of food for them.”
“Yeah,” the man said, licking his lips. He lunged for Rowan’s arm.
Rowan dodged to the side, slamming his elbow down on the back of the man’s head. “I don’t want to fight you!” he hissed through his teeth. “Just let us leave.”
The woman watched her companion collapse to the floor, rage sweeping over her face. “I’ll kill you!” she screamed, charging forward. She plowed Rowan in the chest, sending him backward. H124 wheeled on her, swinging her around. Then she brought her fist into the woman’s throat. The latter gasped, falling to her knees, clutching at her neck.
Rowan grabbed H124’s hand. “C’mon!”
They burst from the alley into the street, then slowed, once more trying to blend in. A throng of people shambled around the center of the road, and Rowan kept to the edges, not so far where they’d stand out, yet not close enough to get dragged down.
They moved toward the edge of the dome. She could see the atmospheric shield stretching straight into the sky.
“Hey!” a man shouted to their left. “Hey, you!”
She glanced in his direction, spotting a tall man with gray skin pulled taut over his bony, shrewd features. “I know you! You came in earlier! With a group of Badlanders!” The people around him stopped moving. They saw their prize. Ravenous, they darted forward, desperate hands grasping.
“Run!” Rowan yelled to H124.
And she did.
Chapter 22
Hands snatched at her hair, and she heard her shirt rip. Someone grabbed the waistline of her pants and jerked her back. She went down hard on her back, kicking out violently. As a woman held onto her pants, H124 twisted around and punched her in the face as hard as she could. The woman screamed out a spray of blood as H124 leaped to her feet and ran toward the CO2 vent. She saw a tangle of people ahead and Rowan’s boot sticking out. He was down. She sped up, driving her shoulder into the gathering of skeletons. Two of them went sprawling, allowing Rowan to slug two more of them and get back on his feet. The vent wasn’t far off now, but they had more pursuers, bare feet slapping on the asphalt.
“You get in front!” Rowan yelled. “I’ll hold them off while you activate the TWR on the lock.”
She dashed ahead of him, slipping past a phalanx of desperate people running to their left. She shrugged off frantic hands as they snaked out to grab her. People tripped over one another in their desperation and were trampled.
Two hundred feet.
An alley opened up to their right, and a stream of dirty faces poured out. The horde would cut them off and reach the vent first. Hundreds of jeering faces blocked their way.
Then a gentle hand clasped her arm, and a voice said in her ear, “Come with us.” She saw that an elderly man and woman had fallen in beside her, struggling to keep up. They were gaunt and wrinkled, but their eyes were kind. “You won’t make it to the vent. We can help you.”
The throng ahead blocked their view of the vent. They couldn’t fight all of them, weak and thin as the people were.
“We’ll get enough food for four days!” someone in the crowd shrieked.
The old man tugged H124 off to the left as she flung off yet another, who grabbed her opposite arm. Suddenly Rowan was next to her.
“Please,” the woman said to them. “Come this way! You can escape through the tunnels.” She opened a hatch in the ground. “Hurry!”
Rowan pushed H124 toward it. “Do it!”
She ran for the hatch, finding a ladder leading down. She grabbed the sides and slid down, Rowan trailing behind. The old couple descended just as the crushing mass grabbed the hatch door, trying to follow. The old man was the last in, slamming down the hatch before they could enter. He drew a bolt across, leaving them in darkness.
H124 switched on her headlamp, revealing round tunnels leading off in three directions. The old woman climbed to the bottom and gripped her arm. “We saw your broadcast on our display and had to come find you. I think you’ll want to see this.” She smiled weakly, her long white hair hanging in greasy strands around a pale, sunken face. Her sad blue eyes stared out, wide and watery. “I’m Tessa.”
The elderly man reached the bottom of the ladder and held out his hand. “And I’m Rory.” H124 shook it, feeling a hand so thin that it seemed as if a page from one of her books was all that blanketed his bones. His eyes were a milky brown, and his ivory hair stood in stark contrast to his brown face. Both of them were so gaunt she didn’t see how they were alive.
The couple turned to Rowan. He introduced himself.
“We have something you should see,” Tessa told them. “You must see.” She tottered away in the dark.
Rory gestured for them to follow.
Rowan leaned over and whispered in H124’s ear. “I hope they’re not luring us to a cannibal cookout. We do have a lot of meat on our bones.”
H124 widened her eyes.
“I’m kidding. Kind of. They seem nice.”
“Seem nice?”
“Yeah. Just in case they really are planning to eat us.”
They followed the old couple in the pitch, and she watched as they held hands. She wondered
