“But no one is given a choice. You can’t take that from people like you own them.”
“Marlow does own them,” he replies coldly. “Or he did. Whoever takes his place will own them now and they like it that way. You know what comes with being given choices? You make bad ones. You make ones that get you killed. A lot of people can’t handle that pressure anymore. The stakes are too high. It used to be you made a bad choice and you ended up driving a Honda for six years wondering why you didn’t grow a pair and go for the Camaro. Screw the gas mileage, it made you feel alive! But now making bad choices gets you killed or worse—it could get your kid killed right in front of your eyes. People can’t handle that. They gladly hand over their rights and their choices so nothing is ever their fault.” He laughs harshly before it turns into a cough. “I wish you could be in the room when those babies are taken from their mothers.”
“I’d rather not,” I mumble, feeling sick.
“No, if you’re going to judge it you need to see it. Those women, they cry and they moan for a day or two but then they never talk about it again.”
“Maybe it’s too painful. Maybe they know it wouldn’t do any good.”
Vin nods grimly in agreement. “Because they know how to survive. Hold the torch. I’m going up to see if I can open this thing and get us out of here.”
I take the torch silently. Vin climbs the metal ladder to the top before pressing his neck and shoulder up into it. I hear him grunt, curse, then grunt again.
“Are any of them yours?” I blurt out.
I expect him to ignore me. Maybe even yell at me. He surprises me when he laughs.
“No,” he replies, taking a step down to look at me. “I can guarantee you that none of them are mine.”
“How can you know for sure?”
“Because I don’t dip my pen in the company ink.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not dumb. Look, can we talk about my sex life another time? I need help with this.”
“How am I supposed to help you?”
“Climb up here with me and help push.”
I look around for a dry spot on the ground. Of course, there is none. “What about the torch?”
“Drop it. We don’t need it.”
I don’t like the idea of going into the dark again, but he’s right—if we can get out through this hole, we don’t need the torch anymore. I take hold of the ladder before dropping our only light source. We’re instantly plunged into darkness and even the light from the holes in the cover seems faint for a minute. When I climb up the ladder I’m careful not to take hold of anything but steel. I don’t want to go grabbing anything and give Vin the wrong idea.
“You ready?” he asks when my face is level with his.
“Ready.”
“Push!”
We both grunt, curse, then grunt again, but this time we get results. The cover screeches loudly as we push it up out of its home to slide it over the pavement above. This has got to be one of the holes the cannibals use on a fairly regular basis. Otherwise it probably would have been rusted shut. The thought that they use it gives me hope that we’re close to home, though where exactly ‘home’ is for either of us at this point is pretty open to debate. For Vin I imagine it’s wherever his people from the Pod are. For me, I know who my home is. Now I just need to know where he is.
We both squint into the bright light of the afternoon sun. It’s painful compared to the darkness we’ve been living in for the last couple hours.
I stare back at the hole. I feel like a traitor leaving it.
“He’d want you to keep going,” Vin tells me quietly.
I nod my head numbly, knowing he’s right but unwilling to move from this spot. It feels like leaving Ryan. It feels like I’m giving up.
“Where are we?” I ask hoarsely before clearing my throat. I will not cry, not over nothing. I don’t know anything for sure yet so what’s the use in crying about it?
“We’re near the Elevens,” Vin whispers.
It surprises me that he bothers with the hushed tones. He’s the Stable Boy of The Hive. He’s a big deal in any territory.
“Why are you whispering?” I ask him at full volume.
He pulls me into an alley before clamping a hand down firmly over my mouth. I try to twist my head to get free but he holds me tightly.
“First of all,” he breathes harshly, “if I whisper, you do the same. If you have to question me, do it quietly. You got it?”
I glare at him, but I nod my head.
He releases my mouth. “Second, the reason I’m whispering is because some of these guys owe me money.”
“They owe you money,” I whisper obediently, “and you’re hiding from them?”
“I’m not exactly in the enforcing mood at the moment. If they see me, they’ll expect me to collect. I don’t have time for that right now.”
“What do they owe you for?”
“Gambling.”
“The Arena?”
“No. Poker.”
“I’m terrible at poker,” I mutter, glancing up and down the street.
“It’s because you’re a bad liar.”
My shoulders slump. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true. Lie to me right now.”
“No, that’s stupid. Whatever I say you’ll know I’m lying.”
“Doesn’t matter. I want to see you do it. Lie about something. Anything. Your age, color of the sky, whatever.”
I stare at him, my mind going blank. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
He smiles with satisfaction. “Told you. You’re a terrible liar.”
“Some people might think that’s a good thing.”
“People like your Hyperion? Yeah, I’m sure that Boy Scout likes it.”
“Do you have a problem with Ryan?”
“Nope, but he has a problem with me.”
“It’s because you suck.”
Vin turns his smile to me, his eyes bright with amusement. “Story of my life.”
I don’t want to talk about Ryan with him anymore. I don’t want to keep saying his name. It feels like it gets weaker every time I use it.
“Shouldn’t we get out of here?”
“Yeah. Where would Trent have taken my people? The Hyperion?”
I shake my head firmly. “No, no way.”
“Your place?”
“No. He knows better.”
“Where then, Kitten? Where are we going?”
It’s a bad idea. I’m not even sure it’s where Trent would have taken them, but I know it’s where I want to go. It’s where he told me to go to find him.
“The woods,” I whisper. “We’re going to see the wizard.”
Chapter Fifteen
Who knew Vin the violent, usurping pimp was a Wizard of Oz fan?
I do. Now.
Ever since I whispered the word “wizard” twenty minutes ago the guy has been singing We’re Off to See the Wizard nonstop, over and over again. The real pain? He’s actually really talented.
“Are you done yet?” I ask irritably.
He grins. “Is it stuck in your head yet?”
“On repeat. Full volume.”
“Then yes, I’m done.”
“You’re the worst.”
“So I hear. Z at two o’clock.”
He’s right—there’s a shambling, moaning zombie heading our way just off to my right. I slip out my ASP, knowing it’s my turn. This has been constant since we came up out of that hole. I was surprised at first that we didn’t hear or see a sign of the Elevens this deep in their territory, but now that I see how many zombies are in this area it makes sense. Marlow killed the barriers holding in a swarm of easily a hundred zombies. Now they’re everywhere. Every gang is probably on lockdown waiting to find out how bad things get. I remember Bray telling Ryan they were doing this exact thing when the northern Colony fell for the first time. “This is just as bad as that day—if not worse. Those of us in the wild haven’t had time to clean house completely from that accident. Now there’s a new swarm on top of everything else. The world is slipping back into chaos. It’s reverting back to the first days.