43 – Venting Frustrations

  Tony sat in the back of the cab, paying twenty-five bits every ten minutes to have it cruise in a wide circle around the NGT tower. He didn’t know what else to do. Of course, he was grateful to have Beef’s help, but his reliance on the banger was maddening. Tony was used to operating solo, using info he’d gotten from his sources—usually brokers and informants Eric managed. He was a nobody in District Seventeen, and he was feeling it.

  He watched the cab charges accumulating on his AUI and began to scan out the window, looking for a spot to be dumped off. He wasn’t exactly scared to walk around the neighborhood in the dark, but he also didn’t want to get caught up in some kind of scuffle if the local bangers saw him strolling around with a shotgun. It wasn’t just the gangs, either—Boxer corpo-sec would love to bust him for unlicensed firepower. He wished he had a sling and a proper overcoat. “In due time,” he muttered, his mind running through all the gear he needed to buy to get back into running.

  His bit-vault was saved from further suffering when Beef called. Tony accepted, and the banger immediately started talking, “Okay, corpo, we’re up. My boys shook a few locals down and got a lead. A guy at the bodega near that garage saw three heavy hitters dragging a hooded prisoner into Merciful Arms Hospital. Thing is, that place has been vacant for most of my life. Dropping you a pin. Hurry.”

  Tony watched the yellow exclamation mark appear on his mini-map and grinned; it was only a mile away. The cab picked up speed as Nora forwarded the new destination, and Tony looked at the readout for his shotgun. It was set for a ten-pellet payload, the canister was full with two hundred pellets, and the battery was at eighty-two percent. He cycled to the .40 cal’s status— fifteen armor-piercing polymer rounds, ready to go. He wished he’d had time to get some extra mags, but it was what it was.

  The cab came to a stop, and Tony slipped out. He stood between two large apartment stacks near a refuse-strewn alley. The streetlights were out, but the faux-neon, yellow-orange signage near the top of the stack behind him, declaring “Boxer Housing 7,” illuminated the street enough for his optics to pierce the shadows. He clocked Beef right away, a hulking figure in the alley, leaning against the concrete wall of the next building—probably Boxer Housing 6 or 8. He motioned Tony over.

  Before he moved, Tony looked left and right down the street. He didn’t see any abandoned hospitals—just more housing stacks. Glowering, he walked over to the big man, only limping slightly. “What’s the story?”

  Beef sucked on a chemstick, its tip igniting with a sizzle and a red glow as he inhaled. Tony recognized the acrid tang—it was a heavy stim some of the real headcases he’d done ops with smoked before a job. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Beef piped out of his mind, but he supposed he should focus on the bright side, that being the fact that the big man was on his side.

  Beef held the stick, half burned, toward him but pulled it back when Tony shook his head. “The place is at the other end of this alley, across the street. I got my boys checking it out, but they won’t move in with us. Can’t risk people saying this was a Helldog move.”

  “I guess war with the Dead Boys isn’t something the Helldogs want, huh?”

  “Fuck no. They’ve got a thousand heavy hitters they can call up.” He shifted, turning to look down the alley, and Tony noticed his usual jacket with Helldog colors was absent. He wore a frayed denim vest adorned with chains but no patches. His arms, usually covered with leather, hung bare by his side, and Tony gawped at the width and hardness of the enormous appendages. Beef might be overweight, but he had the muscle to back up his girth. His giant cleaver was hooked to his belt via a short length of chain, and Tony thought he saw the lump of a pistol under his vest.

  “So, how are we doing this? Going in hard or what?”

  Beef turned to glower at him, taking in the shotgun and Tony’s angry expression. “Don’t worry, corpo, we’ll get dirty, but we better see what we’re dealing with before things get loud.” He started down the alley, his steps quicker than usual but still lumbering the way only a big guy could pull off. Tony ground his teeth, following him. He knew they had to scope things out; he wasn’t an idiot. His worry for Addie and his need to rely on Beef’s network were making him sound stupid, though.

  He swallowed down his pride, focusing on the job. They had an asset to retrieve from hostile actors. They were probably outgunned and definitely didn’t have the home-field advantage, so any intel Beef’s “boys” might give them was invaluable. Tony followed the big man to the end of the alley where another Helldog stood, this one still wearing his colors. He was the taller, skinny one with chrome eyes that Tony had met on his first day in the Blast. He couldn’t recall his name, but it didn’t matter. Beef grunted, “What ya got, Reject?”

  “They’re downstairs somewhere. Snatch and C-Ball climbed up a scaffold and went in through a busted window. They scoped the top three stories and didn’t see shit other than the usual dredges, scabs, and chem-zonks. I mean, ’til they got to the stairwell on the, um—” He narrowed his eyes and peered at something on his AUI. “—northeast corner. Two bangers, Dead Boys, are watching the ground-floor entrance.” He hawked a loogie and spat on the side of the building. “You want ’em to merc those shits?”

  “Nah. Don’t risk it. Any guards outside?”

  “Nothing we could find. Snatch is above us, scoping with his magnetahertzie thingy. Says there’s nothing near the doors or on the street to worry about.”

  Tony frowned, trying to make sense of the guy’s words. Did he mean terahertz? So he was scanning through cover? Before he could ask for clarity, Beef slapped the guy on the shoulder and said, “Get out of here. Tell the boys to pack it up. This is on me and corpo-rat, now.”

  Reject nodded and started to walk past them, but Tony stopped him. “What about security cams?”

  “Only live signals are coming from an array in that stairwell.”

  “We got it,” Beef reiterated. “Get outta here.” He motioned for Tony to follow, then lumbered out of the alley, jogging on heavy feet toward the enormous concrete building across the street. Tony saw what they meant by it being abandoned. Only dim, amber security lights shone near the street-level entrances. Plastic sheeting hung over more than half the exterior walls, and, sure enough, tall, abandoned scaffolds were attached haphazardly to the exterior walls. Were they left over from people stealing windows or equipment? Tony didn’t care; they’d make excellent entry points.

  Beef seemed to have a different idea. He was bulldozing straight for the metal and glass doors at the center of the structure, beyond a fenced-off pull-through meant for emergency drop-offs. “Yo,” Tony grunted, picking up the pace to match Beef’s. “What are you doing?”

  Beef looked at him sideways. “Getting inside. The hell do you think?”

  “Through the doors? Why not do like your boys and climb…”

  “I ain’t climbing shit if I don’t need to. You heard ’im—no signals near the doors. Place is probably crawling with street trash. We ain’t gonna set off any alarms going through those busted-ass old doors.”

  “I’m cool with being direct; I just don’t want to get Addie killed.”

  “We’ll be cool. They don’t know us, right? Someone spots us; for all they know, we’re running from corpo pigs. Just stick with me, rat—”

  Tony grabbed his shoulder, gripping it hard and pulling, slowing the bigger man. They’d just finished crossing the street, and Beef whirled on him, scowling, but Tony spoke before the banger could cuss him out. “Hey, you know my name by now. We’re doing this job together, so, like you said, let’s be cool, yeah? We both want the same thing.”

  Beef scowled, but he slowly nodded as something Tony thought might be respect entered his expression. “All right, Tony. Let’s fuckin’ get our girl.”

  ###

  “You!” Addie yelled the second it clicked in her brain that Zane was standing before her.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  He smiled, shaking his head ruefully, holding up his palms. “Hey, put those fists away, Addie. Let’s talk for a minute.”

  His placating tone only infuriated Addie further. She glanced at her clenched fists, saw the red, swollen imprints around her wrists from the shrink cords, and, if possible, her scowl deepened. “Screw you! You kidnapped me? What kind of psycho are you?”

  “Hmm. Psycho? Not exactly, but maybe, admittedly, something of a sociopath…” He paused, turning to push the door closed behind him. Addie almost leaped at him, but she wasn’t much of a fist fighter, and he wasn’t a small guy. It seemed like it would be a pointless gesture. Still, she backed away, keeping her fists up. When he turned back to her, his expression was resigned, and he shook his head, tsking. “Listen, nothing you do right now will change what’s happening. Those operators who grabbed you? They don’t get paid until you get delivered. I, uh, already signed the dotted line, so to speak. I can’t call ’em off now unless I put up the money, and I, frankly, don’t have it.”

  Addie felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “What the hell are you talking about? Delivered? Where?”

  Zane shrugged. “I’m not really sure. That’s on Leticia; she’s the boss of the crew who picked you up. She’s the headhunter I told you about and, well, let’s just say she’s excited to find you a new employer. We all are because there’s good money to be had for someone with your talents.”

  Addie’s mind was whirling with questions, and her tongue was ready to start firing them off, “What are you talking about? I didn’t agree to work for anyone! You’re going to have to give me a lobotomy if you think I’ll go along with this. Deliver me wherever you want—I’ll be on the next bus back home.”

  “Ah-ah, Addie.” Zane grinned and leaned his shoulder against the paper-covered commercial drywall near the door, clicking his tongue again. “A lobotomy would ruin that pretty little brain and all those delightful, latent Dust talents. No, what they’ll do is load an oversight program into your PAI. They’ll manage you with incentives and disincentives for a while. That’s what they did with me until I started to play ball. You’ll come around, don’t worry. After a while, you’ll come to thank me. You’ll be living a life a lot like mine—wealthy and valued by your corporation, far beyond the average ‘suit.’ You get me?”

  “Do I get you?” Addie felt heat and frustration rising in her chest that nearly made her vibrate with anger. He was so damn smug! He was smiling at her, chuckling like he’d played a funny prank. Like he wasn’t stealing her life from her. “Fuck you, Zane!” She pushed the Dust still lingering in her reactor toward her hand and charged at him, intent on slapping his face and shocking his damn brain. She only made it two steps before red and orange motes streamed from Zane’s palm, swirling into the air. Before she could blink, Addie was floating upward, spinning into a stationary somersault, utterly helpless as Zane manipulated gravity.

  He chuckled. “Whoever buys your contract will have their hands full, that’s for sure. HR departments are used to it, though.” He flicked his fingers, and the sparkling Dust in the air swirled, twisting Addie so her face turned toward his. “They’ve got all sorts of reprogramming techniques. You won’t feel so angry for long. Take heart in that.”

  While Addie cussed and spat, struggling to contort her body to keep him in her sight, he walked around her, chuckling as he stroked his chin. “I wish you would’ve worked with me. I wasn’t lying about my attraction. There’s something in your eyes that calls to me. I hope they don’t snuff that out. Oh well, my job was to set up this little test so we could record proof of your burgeoning abilities. I’m done. Anything you want to know before I leave you in Leticia’s capable hands?”

  Addie scrambled for an angle. She hated him. She wanted him to disappear, but she felt like the moment he left, things would escalate badly for her. “This—” She licked her lips, trying to make her voice less hostile. “This happened to you? Someone took you?”

  “That’s right. I only fought for a while, though. It wasn’t like I was leaving much behind. Same for you, Addie. You’ll come to understand. You think you’ve got a lot to live for here, but come on; you live in the Blast! You know the average life expectancy in this district?”

  “Fifty-four, but there’s a wide range if you account for gender.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve done your research! Why the difference—based on gender, I mean—do you reckon? Bangers?”

  Addie didn’t want to chat with him about mortality rates, but it was keeping him talking, so she played along. “Of course. Most banger clubs have misogynistic cultures, and the men are expected to do the, um, violent activities, and they tend to target other men for retribution.”

  “Right, right. Makes sense. Well, you can look forward to getting out of that cycle. Anyone who can afford your contract will want you to be well looked after. Work hard for a few years, and you’ll earn more and more length to your leash. Look at me! I’m doing this little side job all on my own. Boxer hasn’t a clue about the extra payday coming my way. Anyway, hope there aren’t any hard feelings.”

  He turned and walked back to the door, and Addie couldn’t hold her tongue as she spat, “Hard feelings? You better believe there are, you piece of human garbage! I’ll find you, Zane!”

  He turned to regard her, and then the Dust in the air seemed to get thicker as she felt herself drifting toward the ceiling. “I wouldn’t make threats you can’t back up, Addie. It’s a bad habit. You’ll fetch the same price with or without a few bruises or broken bones. Should I let you get a taste of what a real Dust adept can do? You know I can increase gravity as easily as lessen it.”

  Suddenly, Addie’s lightness switched off, and she surged toward the floor at breakneck speed. She screamed, lifting her arms to shield her face from the oncoming concrete floor, only for her movement to suddenly halt. Her stomach lurched, and she gagged, and Zane laughed. “You have a long way to go before you should be trying to issue threats, runt. By the time you might be able to do something, you’ll feel different—”

  He was cut off by the door beeping and then slamming open. A tall man in black commando gear stood in the doorway. He had buzz-cut blonde hair and hard, dark eyes set above hatchet-sharp cheekbones. “Someone’s coming,” he announced.

  “What?” Zane whirled on him. “What does that mean? Someone’s coming? Who? A buyer?”

  “No. Someone violent. The cams at the stairwell went dark, and your banger muscle ain’t responding to our comm requests.”

  “Dammit,” Zane growled. “Goodbye, Addie.” He strode out of the room, slamming the door shut, and Addie fell the last few inches to the floor, gasping. She rolled onto her back, looking around the little bare room, trying to glimpse the Dust that Zane had been manipulating. It was gone. Did it trail after him? Did it lose its…vibrancy when he stopped concentrating? She had a lot to learn, but she didn’t want to do it as a slave to some nameless corp. Grimacing, she clambered to her feet and padded over to the door.

  She held her thumb against the lens of the little camera, taking small joy in knowing someone who was supposed to be watching her was probably irritated by the gesture. Then she pressed her ear to the cool metal of the door. Muffled shouting came to her, but she couldn’t make out the words. She stood like that for a couple of minutes, listening and thinking. Could this have something to do with her? Had Tony found her? She wanted to believe it, but it seemed too fantastical. How could he?

  If they were distracted, though, maybe she could make a run for it. Could she get the door to open by “sparking” it? She flattened her palm over the panel, still blocking the camera, and then gathered the Dust in her reactor, pushing it through the matrix into her hand. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered, then pushed the Dust out. A blue tendril of electricity arced out of her hand into the panel. Addie jerked her hand back as it sizzled, and something popped behind the plastic.

  She grabbed the door handle and rattled it up and down, jerking as hard as she could. It didn’t open. “Great.” She knew it had been too much to hope for. What kind of security system would open a door because of an electrical surge? She whirled, screaming her frustration into the little room, flopping against the smooth, dusty drywall. To her surprise, it bowed in the middle where her butt landed. “Hold on a minute.”

  With her knuckles, Addie rapped on the wall, listening to the thunks as she moved left to right, trying to find the most hollow-sounding spot. When she’d found what she thought was the right area, she turned, put her back to the wall, and then kicked backward as hard as she could with her heel. The material was springy and tough; some kind of plastic weave was layered through the chalky stuff under the paper, but it cracked under her heel, and Addie’s enthusiasm surged as she kicked again and again, crumbling it in a cloud of white dust.

  After she stopped, she was surprised to hear popping sounds continue, but as she knelt to examine the damage, her brain connected the dots—someone was shooting on the other side of the wall. She didn’t know how distant they were, but those were definitely gunshots. “Are they friends or more bad guys, though?”

  “To whom do you refer, Addie?” JJ asked, oblivious.

  “Hush.” She poked her fingers through the springy plastic weave—all that was left of a large section of the drywall. She heaved, pulling it away from the wall in a series of pops, and then the foam-like insulation was exposed. Encouraged, Addie stood and put her back to the wall again, kicking her heel into that hard, springy stuff with everything she had. The sounds of gunshots continued, and as the exterior layer of reinforced drywall began to crack, they grew much clearer.

  She heard people shouting and recognized the voice of “Q” from earlier—the heavy-handed but kind-voiced woman who’d locked her up. They didn’t sound happy, and that made Addie happy. She kicked harder, and the wall cracked and split, crumbling to dust and chunks. When she knelt to peer through the big hole she’d made, all that was left between her and the outside was the stretched, deformed web of tiny plastic lines that had been reinforcing the drywall.

  Addie stuck her fingers through it and jerked it up and down, loosening it, then she writhed through the hole, the rough edges of intact wall scraping her chest and back, her butt and hips, all the way through. When she slid out, she found herself on commercial-grade polymer tile flooring amid a small mound of white crumbles.

  She coughed, wiping the chalky stuff away from her face, and pushed herself to her hands and knees. More gunshots thundered in the distance, and a high-pitched scream sent a shudder down Addie’s spine. She’d just clambered to her feet, trying to dust some of the white stuff off her hands, when a voice she knew all too well thundered from around the corner, “You fancy, suit-wearing corpo cunt! I’ll rip yer spine out yer ass!”