“Welcome back to the land of the living.”
I looked up, mouth full of sandwich, to find Mr. Grey seated nearby, every bit as bland as the moment we’d met. We were back out in the front room of the testing facility.
“Whaddafugg habbnd?” I swallowed my food and tried again. “What happened?”
“An unfortunate blend of aging technology and poorly trained public servant.” Copper eyes glittered in the dim light. “What matters is that you survived.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what matters.”
“True enough.” The Finder gave me a respectful nod. “Eat your sandwich. It is a long trip still to the Academy.”
I felt the tension drain out of me in a rush. “You mean…?”
“Yes. Despite nearly killing you with his incompetence, Jeremy managed to complete your testing. Low-range Category Three. It appears this morning was not a waste of time after all.”
I barely even heard his words through the rush of relief. Cat Three was the bare minimum for the Academy, and Low-Three meant I was about as weak as a Three could get, but it was enough. Admission meant training and training meant my descent into madness might not be so inevitable after all.
With apologies to dead Alicia, that moment of realization was better than anything I’d felt since Mom’s murder.
•—•—•
I polished off my meal. “Where’s Jeremy?”
Mr. Grey nodded to the back room. “Filing the results of your testing. Having served his purpose, it is unlikely that the two of you will meet again.”
The words were innocuous, the tone even more so, but twelve years in an orphanage had left me a suspicious little shit, and Academy-bound or not, I wasn’t ready to take the Finder’s words at face value. I leveraged myself up onto still-wobbly legs. “I’m going to say goodbye.”
This is the part where I tell you that the back room was a horror show, right? That pieces of Jeremy were strewn from wall to wall, leaving nothing but carnage across grey tiles?
Sounds like we’ve seen the same sort of vids. That or you’ve got a seriously fucked up imagination. Wonder if that’s what got you killed?
The only sign of trouble I found was the small plume of smoke drifting lazily from the testing machine. In the chair next to it, Jeremy was bent over a net terminal, typing away, face downcast and pale except for two spots of color in his cheeks.
“You taking off?” All of the enthusiasm had drained from his voice, leaving it almost as flat as Mr. Grey’s.
“Looks like it.”
“Cool.” He kept typing away, eyes down. “Sorry about the testing.”
Maybe I should have held a grudge. Guy almost kills you, you don’t forgive that shit, right? But Jeremy had played his part in potentially saving my sanity. Magnanimous near-adult that I was, I decided to let it go. “It’s okay. Might want to get that thing fixed before the next kid comes through though.”
“Still trying to figure out what went wrong,” he mumbled, nodding in agreement.
“Well… thanks, I guess.”
“Later.” He still hadn’t looked at me.
Asshole was even less social than I was. I turned to leave, but paused, that same little voice of suspicion whispering in my ear.
“What did I test out as, anyway?”
This time, Jeremy did look up, his expression odd. “Low-Three. Didn’t the Finder tell you?”
“Right. Electrocution must be making me loopy.” I gave a shrug, like I was just a forgetful idiot instead of a suspicious bastard, and made my exit.
Out front, Mr. Grey was waiting for me.
And this time, he had company.
CHAPTER 7
She had a body made for vids—legs a mile long, tits high and proud—every inch of her displayed to perfection by tight black leather, from low-heeled boots to painted-on-pants to a jacket of slightly heavier construction. But from the neck up…
I blinked, frowned, and blinked again. Her face was round and bright yellow, with two large black dots for eyes and a curved black line forming a smile.
“What the hell…?” The words slipped out, barely audible even to myself, but the woman glanced over anyway, and the glint of interior lights off her head was enough to correct my initial assumption. She was wearing a motorcycle helmet. The smiley face I’d seen was a decal wrapped across the helmet’s visor.
“Meet your escort,” said the Finder. “She will be taking you the rest of the way to the Academy.”
My frown deepened. “You’re not coming?”
“You are not the only individual on my list.” His bland smile flickered into view then faded just as swiftly. He turned to look up at the woman at his side. “Deliver him to the Academy of Heroes no later than tomorrow evening. I leave the details to your discretion.”
And just like that, Mr. Grey walked out of my life forever.
Well… not quite forever.
Life couldn’t be that easy.
•—•—•
The wheeze of Mr. Grey’s death trap had faded away before Smiley finally spoke.
“Let’s go, kid.” The voice didn’t fit her body. It would barely have fit Mama Rawlins’ body. It was deep, rough, and weirdly discordant, like razor blades scraping against one another on every syllable.
She was smoking hot—from the neck down, at least—but I wasn’t a total fool. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who you are. Are you a Finder too?”
Her laughter was short and sharp, but it had actual humor in it in a way Mr. Grey hadn’t managed even once since I’d met him. “You think I’m a Finder? Where the hell did he dig you up?”
“Bakersfield.”
“My condolences.” Again, that flicker of humor. I couldn’t see a face beneath the decaled visor, but I could feel her studying me. “I’m a specialist, kid. Well-paid and well-armed, and that’s all you need to know.”
“Like hell it is.”
She regarded me for a moment, then shrugged. “Come with me or don’t.” Those mile-long legs took her out into the brightly lit lot. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving me in near-darkness once again.
If the day was
