And, she thought, stalking over to the rough circle of stinky Marauders, it's not even like I can stage a coup. Nesia wouldn't let me be her leader for two seconds before slaughtering me.

  2Face joined Violet and Cocker just outside the ring of Marauders gathered for sleep.

  "Why is Grost sleeping outside the circle by herself?" Violet asked Cocker.

  "Newton don't want Grost around him no more," Cocker said evenly.

  Cocker walked away and 2Face turned furiously to Violet. "We're going to pay for this," 2Face snapped. "I told him we're all going to pay for his Dudley Do-Right act."

  "Mo'Steel did the only thing he could do," Violet said. She sounded weary.

  2Face grunted, walked off, and threw herself down just behind Curia.

  "J'ou go away," Curia hissed, turning to 2Face. "This place for us."

  "What!" 2Face demanded. "We all sleep close together. It's for protection. Since when —"

  "Go!"

  2Face knew defeat when she met it. Angrily she got up and walked back to Violet.

  "You see what's happening? They're snubbing us. They're saying. Hey, you Remnants are a bunch of weenies and —"

  "It's a clash of cultures," Violet said. "It's not about courage."

  "Whatever," 2Face snapped. "The point is Mo'Steel insulted them by not taking Grost."

  "We'll handle the consequences," Violet said. "What's done is done."

  Violet knelt and began to spread out her sleeping things. "Let's just lie down here, okay?"

  2Face laughed. "You won't be so calm when someone's stuck a knife in your back."

  Violet looked up at 2Face with something odd in her eyes. 2Face felt wiggly inside. "What?" she said.

  "Nothing," Violet replied, settling down on her makeshift bed. "Just that I don't think I'll be the one with the knife in my back."

  It was no use. He couldn't sleep. Not with worrying about his mom and Grost and ...

  Mo'Steel struggled to his feet and winced. The throbbing in his bad leg was always most violent when he stood after being horizontal for a while. Can I really do this? he asked himself. No, I can't.

  The answer came swiftly and despair flooded Mo'Steel's brain. He wasn't a guy used to feeling despair. It shocked and frightened him.

  It's just the leg, he told himself. Walk around a bit, get the blood flowing normally. Once the pain dies down you'll feel fine.

  Mo'Steel limped around the sleeping bodies close to him and headed for more open turf where he was less likely to step on anyone. Where it was less likely that anyone would hear him suck in his breath in agony.

  Mo'Steel pulled his tunic closer around him and tried to calm his brain. He reached for his usual easygoing nature, for his native confidence and found — "J'ou don't go too far."

  Mo'Steel whirled around on his good leg. His heart was beating madly. His nerve endings screamed. It was Badger.

  "J'ou in pain, so j'ou don't go too far," Badger said, pointing to Mo'Steel's bad leg.

  "I'm okay," Mo'Steel said, hoping his voice sounded strong. "I'm fine."

  Badger looked steadily at him. He's about my age, Mo'Steel thought. Ash-coated hair, wildly matted. Ratty clothes. But something about his face... Mo'Steel tried to read the guy's intent in following him — and found something interesting. "You're not here to kill me, are you?"

  Badger looked surprised for about half a second, then grinned. "I don't kill anybody," he said. "But sometimes, I think somebody going to kill me."

  Mo'Steel shifted to keep the blood flowing in his leg and said, "Why?"

  Badger shrugged. "J'ou see what I see. Some Marauders ... they different from others."

  "So," Mo'Steel said, grinning now, "are you here to protect me?"

  "J'ou need protection?" Badger challenged.

  Mo'Steel considered before answering. "I don't know," he said finally.

  Badger nodded. "J'ou let me know when you decide."

  Mo'Steel watched as Badger walked back toward the sleeping camp. Huh, he thought. I think I just found me an ally.

  Violet had slept well but not long. She couldn't get 2Face's words out of her mind. In spite of the calm exterior she'd shown 2Face, she was worried that Mo'Steel's rejection of Grost would backfire on them. She didn't really think there was anything she could do to prevent something bad from happening, but...

  Violet looked for Sanchez and found him sitting quietly on the outskirts of camp. For a second she hesitated to disturb him but a growing sense of worry compelled her. "Sanchez?"

  He looked up at Violet and fixed her with those dark, knowing eyes. Again Violet realized that in another time and place she would be crazy about this guy.

  "Yes?" he said.

  "Can you tell me more about the Beasts?"

  "Yes, I can," Sanchez said. "But no, I won't."

  Violet fought down a mix of annoyance and frustration. Sanchez might be intelligent and relatively good-looking but he was a pain in the butt.

  "Do you mean you won't tell me now?" she said, crouching at his side. "Will you tell me later?"

  Sanchez's face was carefully without expression. It made Violet more frustrated.

  "I think you want us all to die," she snapped. "You want Mo'Steel to be killed by the Beasts. You want that jerk Newton to be leader!"

  Sanchez waited a beat before speaking. Finally, he said, "I want what is best for all."

  Violet fought back surprising tears. "And you think you know what's best?" she said, voice breaking. "You don't know anything about me. About us."

  "-Sanchez looked carefully at Violet and she saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "No. I don't know anything."

  CHAPTER 11

  "WE DON'T NEED ANY MDRE TROUBLE THAN WE ALREADY HAVE."

  They'd eaten and 2Face was still roaringly hungry. Which, of course, was Billy's fault.

  As was the fact that there were no books, no television, no stereo, no portable sound systems, nothing to do for recreation. Except watch the Marauder pigs go about their disgusting business. Like the big pig Snipe. 2Face watched as Snipe dug into the skin pouch and came out with about a dozen grayish pellets. She watched as Claw grabbed the pouch and did the same, then passed the pouch to Balder.

  "What is that stuff?" she whispered. "It looks like droppings of some sort."

  "Droppings?" D-Caf repeated. "You're a regular rocket scientist, aren't you?"

  2Face spat. "Droppings. Excrement. Poop."

  D-Caf giggled. "Poop."

  "Why didn't the Alphas tell us about this?" Noyze said.

  "I don't know. Maybe they were overwhelmed by our sudden appearance." Jobs paused and ran his hand over his eyes. "I mean, I would have been. Maybe they're scared of the Marauders."

  "Definitely scared," Olga agreed.

  2Face frowned. "Well, bully for the Alphas. But I say we don't eat any of these — poops. Even if they're harmless to Newton and his gang, who knows what they might do to us? The Marauders might have built up a resistance to any bad side effects. Our bodies might just — explode."

  And I bet that's exactly what they want, 2Face thought grimly. To poison us all and watch our guts come screaming out through our skin.

  "Right. Didn't your mother ever warn you not to take candy from strangers?" Olga said.

  "Frankly, no," Violet said. "My mother was too busy building a corporate empire to worry about her daughter's well-being. But I figured it out on my own."

  2Face scanned their small group, all there but for Mo'Steel. "Everybody gets it, right? Edward, Roger Dodger? You, D-Caf? Nobody touches the stuff. We don't need any more trouble than we already have."

  Edward nodded solemnly. Roger Dodger checked Edward's reaction and then nodded, too. D-Caf looked grumpy with resentment at being lumped with the two younger kids but shrugged his agreement. At least, 2Face thought the shrug meant agreement. She didn't really care so much if the twitch got himself exploded.

  Olga felt the pain descending again. Before it hit full force there was something she had to do. 2Face's talk of the Marauders retaliating for Mo'Steel's refusal of Newton's loathsome offer had made her think.

  Olga made her way through the quieting camp to where Aga was repairing a tear in a tunic. She sat hunched over the work, squinting, using a small blunt instrument to puncture the material.

  "Here," Olga said, bending down, "let me give you the needle the Alphas gave me. It's for all of us."

  She reached under her tunic and felt for her shirt pocket. Aga tossed the torn tunic behind her and stood.

  "I don't need no help from j'ou," she said, eyes darting to right and left. Olga held out the needle.

  "Oh, but..."

  "No," Aga repeated. "Marauders do things our own way."

  In spite of her strong words, Olga saw Aga's eyes flick with envy to the sharp needle. The needle would make her work easier. Aga knew that. Of course she wanted the needle. But...

  "Can you tell me why what my son did was wrong?" Olga blurted. "Don't you see by refusing to be Grost's — master — he was showing his respect for her? It doesn't mean he won't protect her." Aga opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Olga wondered. Either she really didn't know what to say or didn't want to say what was really on her mind. "I thought we were — friends," Olga said.

  Again, Aga said nothing but her face spoke volumes. On it Olga read a struggle between extremes. Fearful hate of a stranger warred with sympathy for, another woman. Olga took one more chance.

  "My son is a good person," she said. "The more he learns of the Marauders' ways the better he can fight. The better he can lead. I wish you would trust me."

  Aga laughed a small, bitter laugh. "It's not j'ou I don't trust," she said.

  Olga wanted to know more but Aga turned abruptly and walked away. Olga sighed, then spotted Aga's pack. Carefully she threaded the needle through the flap and went off to sleep.

  "Olga! Wake up!"

  Olga sat up fast and felt the world of her dreams spin away. And her head pound. "What?" she gasped.

  2Face grabbed her arm and helped her rise. "It's that idiot D-Caf. I think he took some of those pellets. He's having a fit or something."

  Olga stumbled over to where several people were crouched. She could barely make out a pair of shoeless feet, twitching on the ground.

  "Why did he do it?" Violet cried. "We told him not to take any of the pellets!"

  "Oh, jeez, he's a mess!" Roger Dodger said fretfully.

  "Is he going to die?" Edward asked fearfully.

  "He'll be okay," Jobs answered weakly.

  Olga pushed through the sick headache. She had to help the kid. The stupid kid.

  "Let me through," she said. "Jobs, you keep the Marauders away. Take Edward and Roger Dodger with you." Jobs looked afraid but moved off with the two younger boys.

  Olga knelt next to Violet. Suddenly, D-Caf's body convulsed like a huge wave, then slammed straight to the ground, then his limbs began to twitch madly and Olga couldn't help but remember what Yago used to call D-Caf: the little twitch.

  "Violet, you're going to have to grab hold of his tongue." Olga fumbled in her pockets and came up with a twig left over from their last meal and thrust it at Violet. "We can't let him swallow it." Violet did as she was told, wordlessly. A good assistant, Olga thought. Which makes me the doctor. And I have no idea what to do now.

  "Romeo!" she called. Mo'Steel appeared with a skid on the ash. "What can I do. Mom?" he said. "God —"

  D-Caf's body thrashed wildly again. Violet lost her grip on his tongue, cursed, grabbed for it again.

  "Help me hold him down," Olga panted, crawling to reach D-Caf's arms, now behind his head. "He's going to hurt himself."

  Mo'Steel grabbed D-Caf's legs and held them firmly. Vaguely, Olga was aware of voices, questioning, laughing, curious.

  "2Face!" she called. "2Face!"

  The girl had kept away but now she approached. "I knew he'd do something stupid," she said angrily.

  "Look," Olga instructed, "go talk to Aga. Tell her what we think happened. Tell her what's happening! See if she has anything that might help. Go!"

  D-Caf began to moan and 2Face turned away with a look of disgust. "I'm going," she said.

  Olga's headache was growing, fed by the horror of the situation. Please, she prayed, God, let him be okay and let me be okay and...

  2Face was back, with Aga. The Marauder woman said nothing but nodded at Olga. Olga sighed with relief; she'd been afraid Aga would deny help.

  Aga pushed Violet aside, lifted D-Caf's head, and managed to spill a tiny amount of a liquid down his throat. Olga watched as Aga turned D-Caf's head to face the ground — Olga let go of D-Caf's hands — and almost immediately, the kid vomited.

  Olga fought the gorge rising in her own throat and fell back. Violet stood abruptly but Mo'Steel still held D-Caf's feet.

  The vomiting was over just as suddenly as it had come and Aga laid D-Caf back down on the ground. "He'll be good now," she said, rising.

  "Thank you, thank you," Olga gasped.

  Aga nodded and walked off.

  2Face leaned in close to D-Caf's face. "Hey, Freak Show, you okay?"

  "I don't think he'll be able to hear you for a while," Olga said, lying back on the ground.

  "It was Balder that did it."

  Olga sat up again. It was Badger. Noyze stood next to him.

  "What?" 2Face said.

  "Balder forced it on him, made him swallow. I saw it."

  "Why didn't you try to stop him?" 2Face demanded, getting to her feet.

  "Easy," Olga murmured.

  Badger laughed uneasily. "Balder? He'd kill me."

  "It's okay, Badger," Olga said as forcefully as she could manage with the nausea rising again. "It's okay. Someone ... cover him up, I'll... I'll stay with him, right here...."

  Olga closed her eyes. As she lay back on the ground, fighting not to vomit, she thought, Aga. Balder. One good. One bad. What claim do we have on the Marauders, anyway? Why should a hardened, experienced band of nomads be responsible for the lives of us troublesome newbies?

  Before her brain could answer those questions, Olga passed out.

  The camp was astir. There was a huge uneasiness in the air. And there was laughter. The mean, nasty kind, and it was coming from Newton and his buddies. Mo'Steel's jaw tightened as he packed up to move on.

  He was not about to let the incident go. A Marauder had made a direct attack on a Remnant — and it was his fault. 2Face was right. By refusing to make Grost his personal slave, Mo'Steel had further alienated the Marauders. Maybe that had been a mistake. But he wouldn't make another one. He'd show everyone who was boss.

  Question was — how? Mo'Steel glanced around camp. He knew he couldn't pit his friends against the Marauders in a flat-out fight. No way would Jobs and all the rest come out alive. And he wasn't sure of how many Marauders he could count on to pledge him their allegiance. Maybe none. And, Mo'Steel thought, don't want to endanger what might be the one chance we have of making a decent life in this godforsaken place by getting myself killed before we reach the Beasts. 'Cause if for some reason I do manage to kill a Beast, then I'm officially in as leader and maybe, just maybe, Mom and Noyze and everyone else can live with the Alphas in their sort-of-decent bunker.

  Mo'Steel flexed his bad leg. He knew he'd better come up with something soon, before Newton decided Mo'Steel was afraid of him. Which I am, he added silently, but that's another story.

  Controlling the limp as best he could, Mo'Steel made his way over to Newton and his cronies. As he approached, the men fell silent. Mo'Steel realized that except for the wail of one of the children, everyone in the camp had gone silent.

  Balder, Claw, and Snipe shoved one another, nodded at Mo'Steel, and grinned wildly.

  Mo'Steel stopped about ten feet from Newton, who had moved in front of his posse. For a moment they stared at each other without speaking. Mo'Steel was acutely aware of his physical disadvantage. The words came out without plan.

  "I want you to let Grost sleep within the circle."

  "That's not how —" Newton began.

  "I don't care," Mo'Steel shot back. "We do this my way. She's in the circle." Newton shrugged elaborately.

  Mo'Steel half turned away, then turned back, as if a thought had just occurred to him.

  "Oh, and Newton," he said, laying his hand on his knife. "If there's another attack on my people ..."

  Newton grinned. "No attack. An accident."

  "If there's one more attack," Mo'Steel repeated, "you'll pay."

  "Me? I didn't do nothing," Newton said, a grin breaking across his cruddy face. Mo'Steel urged his eyes to bore a hole in the jerk's skull.

  "Yeah," he said, "maybe not. Maybe you're all Mr. Innocent. But I seriously doubt it. So if anything else happens, you — and only you — are going to pay. You get me?"

 

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