Violet was at a loss for words again. Instead she made a small sound, inviting him to go on.

  "The weak are bad for us. Why is it that j'our leader favors the weak? This will not last. Some Marauders will not let this go on."

  "Are you threatening us?" Violet demanded, all soft feelings for Sanchez gone, anger and fear battling for control of her. Olga and her headache. Noyze and the hallucinations. All of us with mutations. Mo'Steel with his injured leg...

  Sanchez looked at her calmly, almost without expression, much as he'd spoken. "I am warning j'ou," he said.

  Violet stood trembling as Sanchez shuffled off into the dust.

  Newton rambled through the temporary camp, alert to the activities of everyone, watching for rebellion....

  "Why he always stopping? It was Claw. He was agitated, his facial tics worse than usual, his hand on his knife.

  "I think he no want to get to them Beasts, all right. Big leader be scared!"

  Newton didn't answer right away, which seemed to make Claw more excited. "He scared and he trying to protect that woman, Olga. She be sick, I see it!"

  "Calm down," Newton commanded, voice tight. Balder and Snipe were striding toward them, their faces dark. He had to keep control.

  "We should be moving on," Balder said as the two men reached Newton.

  "Why we not lead the kid in the wrong direction and just leave him?" Snipe growled.

  The idea had occurred to Newton, too. But Sanchez had warned him to follow tradition. And he'd said something else, something Newton didn't understand, about an "event coming to pass." Sanchez's words had scared Newton — a little. Sanchez knew things.

  "No," Newton said harshly now. "We will take them all to the Beasts."

  Balder shifted his protruding eyes to Snipe, and Newton's hands clenched.

  "J'ou hear me?" he demanded. "J'ou leave them all alone unless I say so."

  Newton waited for one of the men to argue and when none did, he moved on through the camp. The minor confrontation had been unsettling and Newton needed to be alone.

  He didn't like that the kid named Mo'Steel had managed to kill Hawk.

  Now Hawk was gone and Newton — who'd always thought he'd be next in line for leader, even if it meant he'd have to kill Hawk, who was, by the way, his older brother — Newton was supposed to follow this kid from the past, a coward who'd run off when things got tough. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Not if Newton had anything to do with it. Yes, Newton thought, striding showily now, wanting the weak to fear him, wanting to impress, I'm going to guide them to the Beasts because it's tradition, like Sanchez said.

  Newton stumbled and cursed. He knew people had seen him and humiliation quickly turned into rage. He wanted to hurt somebody for having witnessed his weakness. Grost was close by, and as he passed her, he gave her a shove. She cried out, spilling the bundle she'd been clutching.

  Newton grinned. It helped mask the uneasy knowledge that there was another reason he was holding off on killing Mo'Steel outright. If he did, then he, Newton, would have to fight the Beasts before being acknowledged the Marauders' leader.

  Newton could hardly acknowledge it to himself but he was afraid of the Beasts.

  Yeah, so he'd guide them all to the Dark Zone and wait for the Beasts to come. But he wouldn't make the trip too easy. No, he'd let Mo'Steel and his people survive but he'd make it hard.

  And when the Beasts had gotten rid of the kid, Newton would declare himself leader and just see who had the nerve to argue with him.

  Newton came to a stop and surveyed the camp's activities. Grost was still sprawled on the ground. Aga was bending over her The Olga woman was lying with her face hidden in her arms. Mo'Steel was replacing the dirty bandage on his leg. Claw, Snipe, and Balder had followed Newton and now came to his side.

  Suddenly, the girl called 2Face cried out and they saw her break away from Rattler, a big grin on his greasy face. "You guys are disgusting!" she shouted.

  Newton clenched his hands into fists at his side.

  "J'ou hear that?" Claw growled. "J'ou hear what that one say about Marauders?"

  Snipe reached for his knife but Newton stopped him with a glance. "The Marauders will have respect," Newton said. "J'ou with me? We will have respect."

  CHAPTER 8

  WHO WERE THESE PEOPLE, ANYWAY?

  Jobs coughed. He could feel the grit in his mouth, on his tongue, coating his throat. He blinked against the ash in his eyes. He imagined his hair was gray with it.

  Why hadn't the Marauders found more water? Jobs wondered irritably. Where was the water?

  The bleakness of the landscape had been bearable when Jobs had known he'd be returning to the ship after an hour or so. But since the start of this macabre journey with the Marauders, Earth's oddly threatening blandness was getting to Jobs deep down.

  The sun pushed through the haze of ash and provided a weak, uniform light. There was no such thing as morning, with the gradual dawning of a sunrise and its promise of a new day. There was no such thing as evening, with its slow softening of light into soothing blues and purples, and finally into the deep velvet of night.

  Jobs looked up at the sky. The almost-forgotten poet in him wanted to see the stars.

  A human needed variety. Mo'Steel thought he'd give anything for the sight of a ruined tree, something to vary the boring sameness of land and sky.

  A cliff would be good, Mo'Steel thought. He wanted something he could jump off. He wanted something he could climb up, using tooth and nail if necessary. He wanted something he could hang from by one hand while whooping with wild delight and waving to his friends with the other hand. He wanted something he could scale or ride or conquer, but all there was as far as his eye could see was — nothing.

  Mo'Steel looked at Balder, Claw, and Snipe, Newton's stupid strong-arms. Who were these people, anyway? And why did he have to play by their rules? He almost wished for a fight right then. Almost.

  Forget about my stupid leg, he vowed. If I come across a cliff, I'm scaling it.

  Violet wiped ash from her eyes and felt like she was cracking up. She recognized the bubble of incipient hysteria rising from her gut.

  It wasn't only the crude company that was driving Violet crazy. It was the lack of hope, the feeling of being at a dead end. Gray flat light, gray flat land, nothing punctuating the grayness but brief rest stops for a piece of horrid, stringy food.

  Violet sighed and realized, too late, how loudly she'd sighed. She could feel eyes on her.... She looked to her left and saw Sanchez, trudging along, head bowed, eyes on the ground. Was he looking at me? she wondered uneasily. I don't want him looking at me. She still wasn't sure if his warning had been a favor or —

  Violet came to a halt and let Sanchez walk on ahead. For some reason she couldn't name, she thought then of Billy, alone out there in the gray. Oh, Billy, she thought, where are you?

  The band stopped briefly to eat and for Newton to inventory the food supply, something he announced loudly that he would be doing. Noyze wondered if he really suspected someone had been pilfering or if he was doing the inventory to make Mo'Steel feel inadequate. Mo'Steel was supposed to be in charge but it didn't always play out that way.

  Noyze put Newton out of her mind and settled down beside Badger. He was maybe Mo'Steel's age. Something about him reminded Noyze of Mo'Steel, though she couldn't yet say exactly what it was.

  "Tell me about Yorka," she asked boldly.

  Badger answered promptly, "Yorka, she was born with the Alphas." "What's she doing with you guys?" Noyze asked.

  Badger shrugged. "What j'ou think? Look at her. She can't talk. She's defective, what Alphas call a mutant, like the rest of the Marauders. The Alphas didn't want her once they found out."

  Noyze was stunned. "Not even her mother?"

  "Alphas are different," Badger said enigmatically.

  "But maybe the reason Yorka can't talk is emotional," Noyze argued. "You know. Maybe she could have been taught to talk. She can hear, right?"

  Again, Badger shrugged. "I know nothing 'bout that, an emotional reason. I know Yorka hears okay. She listens. I see it on her face, in her eyes."

  Noyze wasn't about to let it go. "There are plenty of other ways to communicate without spoken words," she said. "Just because Yorka can't talk doesn't make her worthless to her community."

  Badger smiled, but not happily. "J'ou tell the Alphas," he said. "Far as they concerned, j'ou not perfect, j'ou dumped with Marauders."

  Noyze thought about this and shivered. So, if she had been born after the Rock to the Alpha survivors, she, too, would have been tossed away like so much trash. She, too, would have been stuck with a band of wild and dirty and violent Marauders. Still...

  Noyze wondered as she picked at her meager, tasteless meal. Was it really so great to spend all your time underground, cultivating depleted soil, performing endless boring experiments, doing soil toxicity calculations and making ugly clothing from tough plant fibers?

  Maybe in the long run Yorka was better off with the Marauders.

  Noyze turned to Badger and took a chance. After the hallucination of the handless man she was more hesitant than ever to reveal a weakness but...

  "I was born deaf," she said. "I could hear hardly anything until I had an operation." At Badger's puzzled look, Noyze added, "Um, when people fixed it so I could hear."

  "J'our people keep j'ou?" Badger asked, voice hushed with amazement.

  "Yup."

  "Like Marauders, then. Like us," Badger said, and Noyze thought she heard pride in his tone. Noyze never thought she'd say it but she said it now. "Yeah. Like you."

  Badger began to smile a broken-tooth smile — and then his eyes darted over her shoulder. "I have to go," he mumbled, and climbed to his feet.

  Puzzled, Noyze watched Badger go — and saw what had scared him away. Balder, Claw, and Snipe. Newton's posse.

  Newton's big-deal inventory was taking a long time. But Olga didn't mind. She'd slept and when she woke, the pain in her head had eased. A little.

  After a while, Noyze had joined her. She'd told Olga about Yorka.

  When Noyze had moved off to talk to Mo'Steel, Olga had eased herself to her feet and sought out Yorka. The girl had confirmed Noyze's story. Yes, Yorka nodded, she'd been born with the Alphas. Yes, when she was little she'd been given to the Marauders. No, she didn't remember much about life underground. No, she did not know her mother. Olga thought about her earlier conversation with Violet.

  If the Alphas refused to allow those with genetic "defects" to live as a part of their colony, what place would there ever be for Violet and Edward and D-Caf and 2Face and Roger Dodger?

  What place would there be for her own son, with his replacement body parts?

  Noyze's information about the Alphas' genetic policies had put a whole new spin on things. The Marauders aren't without glaring faults, Olga thought, but at least you're welcome to stay if you can keep up with the pack.

  But if you were sick... Olga winced against a jolt of pain. When her eyes refocused, she saw Aga watching her closely. Before Olga could react, Aga turned away.

  They were on the move again. Noyze wanted to walk next to Mo'Steel but he was hedged in by men. Big, hairy, smelly men. Noyze sighed and looked around for Badger

  She spotted him and made her way to his side. He acknowledged her with a nod. "Who gives you your names?" Noyze asked abruptly.

  Badger shrugged. "Our mothers. Sometimes we change our names when we grow up. Like Claw, he used to be Bender."

  "That's like us, mostly. Not like the Alphas, though. The guy named Mattock said they had a Namer to assign a name to a baby."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. He didn't say. Anyway, it can't be that tough a job. A baby's only born when someone dies."

  "Hawk, he killed Woody," Badger said.

  "Huh. Right. I wonder if that means another girl besides Echo has been chosen to give her DNA for a baby."

  Badger shook his head and shrugged.

  Noyze wondered. It didn't seem likely she'd ever have a baby of her own. Not that she wanted a baby! Not now, anyway. Suddenly, Noyze felt kind of embarrassed even thinking about babies. "Urn, I'm going to check with Olga," she said abruptly, and ran off before Badger could reply.

  CHAPTER 9

  "THIS IS POLITICS."

  Mo'Steel watched Newton order Yorka to fetch him something. He wondered, What if I just said, Hey, sorry, 'migo, but I don't want to be here. I am just not down with marching off to get myself killed by some big ole Beast Thanks and all, but nope.

  What then? I'd be sliced and diced before the last word had left my mouth, Mo'Steel told himself. And then Newton and his cronies would make toast of my mother and my best friend and Noyze. . . . Mo'Steel's power over the Marauders was minimal. It was a joke.

  Now Newton, dragging Grost by the arm, was stalking his way. Mo'Steel got to his feet, bounced up twice on his toes, felt the effort in his bad leg. It was healing, but not fast enough. "Here." Newton roughly shoved Grost toward Mo'Steel. The girl stumbled but regained her uncertain footing and looked up at Mo'Steel through a rough thatch of hair. Mo'Steel didn't understand. What was he supposed to do now?

  Newton grinned, obviously enjoying Mo'Steel's hesitation. Mo'Steel saw his buddies, Snipe, Claw, and Balder, nudge one another and snicker. Suddenly, he had an audience, both Marauder and Remnant.

  "J'ou and her are together like Old Berg and Aga," Newton said. And Mo'Steel suddenly knew exactly what Newton had in mind for him and Grost. A Marauder marriage.

  And that was so not happening.

  "Begging your pardon, but..."

  Pegging your pardon? Mo'Steel thought wildly. Where had that come from? He sounded like somebody's great-great-grandfather

  "But, er, no thanks," he added quickly, making what he hoped was a friendly gesture with his hands.

  Immediately, Mo'Steel sensed that his refusal of Grost had been taken as an insult. And as a sign of weakness.

  "J'ou say no to me?" Newton demanded.

  "Meaning no disrespect..." he said, once again trailing off. He could sense Jobs and the others gathered around him, watching. He could feel his mother's eyes on him. And then somebody moved. 2Face sidled up to him and whispered harshly in his ear. "Don't be an idiot," she said. "It's a challenge. If you say no, you're going to look like a wimp. Just say yes and get it over with."

  "No," Mo'Steel said.

  2Face grabbed his arm above the elbow and squeezed. "You're messing with us all, you moron. This is politics. This isn't about morals."

  Mo'Steel wrenched away from 2Face and gave her a look he hoped showed the depth of his revulsion. "Get away from me," he ordered. 2Face sneered and backed off.

  But what she'd said rang true in Mo'Steel's skull. For the sake of his own hide, as well as for the lives of his friends, should he reverse his decision?

  For a tiny flicker of a moment the possibility seemed within reach. Mo'Steel shoved his imagination into the future....

  No. There was just no way he could go through with it.

  For one, there was his mom, who totally wouldn't approve, and there was Mo'Steel's own respect for femmes in general. Newton's shoving Grost in his face was wrong, end of story.

  Besides, there was something — wrong — with Grost. it wasn't just the half a foot. Mo'Steel was no stranger to missing — or replaced — body parts. And it wasn't just that poor Grost wasn't for him, with her small, crossed eyes and gray, broken teeth. It was that she looked like — like maybe there was something wrong with her head, inside.

  Suddenly, Mo'Steel felt overwhelmed by pity for the girl. Maybe she can't take care of herself, he thought. I'm a nice guy. Maybe I should take care of her. And the best way to do that would be ... Not to make her his personal slave,

  "Uh," he said, "with all due respect, uh, no thanks. I mean, thanks and all but... No. Thanks." That was it.

  Mo'Steel saw plainly the look of disappointment on Aga's face, the looks of disrespect and even disgust on the faces of the other women. Even Grost showed a spark of feeling; she flicked one torn fingernail against her teeth as if tossing away a bad piece of seed.

  And on the faces of the men — Badger and Sanchez being the exceptions — Mo'Steel saw open mockery and derision.

  Great, he thought, just great. Another test I failed, but I just couldn't I just couldn't.

  CHAPTER 10

  "YOU'RE NOT HERE TO KILL ME, ARE YOU?"

  2Face didn't know why she bothered. She'd tried to help that idiot Mo'Steel handle the Grost situation but he was useless. And his stupidity was going to come back and bite them all in the butt. 2Face knew that for sure.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10