Afterburn, page 12
“I’m just helping him with his homework. We’re not best friends or anything.”
“Still, you need to be careful who represents you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
At this, one of the bigger kids, muscular and tattooed, stood up in a threatening manner. He was barely out of his seat when a blue light began strobing silently inside the pod. If the AI detected a crime, or even suspected a threat, it would alert station security to meet the pod when it arrived.
The older kid backed off, and Tiny just smiled and shook his head as if to indicate how lucky Alton had been. “Not much can stop Bouncer here when he’s feeling feral,” Tiny said.
They arrived at the station. As the passengers unloaded, Alton was relieved to find security waiting. He hurried past them and sprinted up the stairs and out of the station into the suffocatingly hot day, pinging Alex as he did. He wove his way through the afternoon crowds and hustled down an alley, checking behind him to make sure no one was following.
The second he stopped to catch his breath, “There he is!” came bellowing down the alley, and he turned to see the gang tear after him.
He squeezed through a rusted gate at the end of the alley, cursing as he burned his arm on the hot aluminum, and fled down a sloping path. The underpass that led to his building was within sight, but he would have to make his way through a dense shantytown of tents and shelters to get there.
He typically avoided the encampments like the plague, but seeing no other choice, he bent low and began snaking through. Going too fast, he stumbled, skinning his knees and forearms on the hot, gritty asphalt. The pain was intense, but adrenaline and the sounds of their shouts at the edge of the encampment kept him moving.
He lurched ahead, stinging sweat forcing his eyes shut. Half blind, he ran into a large appliance box wedged between two tents. He didn’t have time to find another way around, so he held his nose and plunged into the humid carton.
Inside, a shirtless, emaciated man lay on his back wearing VR goggles. At first, the man didn’t speak or even move, but as Alton clambered around him, he made a sound, some reaction to whatever he was immersed in. Alton felt relieved, not so much that the man was alive but that he had some means of escape from his miserable existence.
Outside, he could see the heads of his pursuers looming like scarecrows not ten yards away, and again his impulse was to duck into an open tent.
This one sheltered two women and a baby, their faces streaked with grime and sweat. The tent overflowed with junk and old clothes and stank of spoiled milk. The woman holding the baby moved into the corner. The other edged in front of them, her eyes wide with fear.
Alton crouched near the entrance and tried to control his breath. He tilted his head toward the voices outside and held up one finger to indicate he would be gone in a moment.
The moment lasted a long time. The scrapes on his arms and legs burned like crazy. The heat amplified the stench, and it was all he could do not to gag. But he decided that would be the ultimate insult, and he was already invading their home.
When the voices subsided again, he crawled out and dashed toward the concealing shadows of the underpass. He was almost home free when he stumbled against another tent and set a dog inside to yapping.
There was no place else to hide, so he leapt up and bolted.
He turned to see one of his pursuers catch a leg on something and take a tumble, but the other four closed fast. His building was just a few streets over, but they would catch him before he got there, so he pulled up short and turned to face them.
“Caught the snitch,” Tiny said.
“I didn’t call security!” Alton gasped.
“It’s still your fault for mouthing off in the first place,” Tiny said, grabbing his lapels. Alton tried to wrest free, but Bouncer went behind him and wrenched his arms back, causing him to cry out.
“Now listen, Bolillo,” said Tiny, showering Alton with sweat and spit. “Final warning. Your boy is dangerous. His kind is a serious problem.”
Alton didn’t have a chance to ask what that problem was, or what distinction they were making between Alex and Alton when it came to kind because Alex was charging them with a steel pipe.
“Get the fuck off him!” he yelled, swinging the pipe in a wide arc. Their antagonists leapt backward but held their ground.
“Five of us and one of you,” Tiny said.
“Been skipping math, field rat? There are four of you.” Alex smirked, but as he did, the kid who had taken a spill appeared behind him and wrenched the pipe from Alex. As it went clattering away, Alex kicked the kid hard in his bloody knee. He dropped, but the other four were on Alex in an instant.
“Go!” Alex yelled.
Alton started to backpedal. “Do you want me to call the cops?”
“Fuck no!”
Alton ran, looking back just once to see a jumble of flailing legs and fists.
He waited for what seemed like forever outside his building, panting, his gut gurgling with dread. What if his new friend was a pile of broken bones? Wouldn’t that be Alton’s fault? But just as he began to talk himself into going back, Alex appeared. His nose was a faucet of blood, one eye was swelling, and he clutched his side. But he was grinning.
In the lobby, the elevator took an infuriatingly long time. Alton expected the gang to burst in at any moment, but finally they were headed up to his floor.
“Thanks,” he said. “You saved my ass.”
“Of course,” Alex said, tilting his head back to slow the blood. “We have to stick together.”
We do?
“Also, neber call da cops.”
“I thought your dad used to be a cop.”
“That’s why I know not to do it.”
In his apartment, Alton gave Alex an ice pack and an old hand towel for his nose, then went into the bathroom to wash the dirt and blood out of his own wounds. When he returned, Alex was sitting upright, the nosebleed stanched. Alton disposed of the bloody towel, then pulled out half the contents of the fridge and started slapping sandwiches together.
Sitting in the quiet air-conditioning, as they stuffed their faces and guzzled energy drinks, Alton thought of the man in the box and the little family in the rancid tent. Despite all his resentment and complaining, maybe he didn’t have it so bad after all, especially compared to Alex, who was a mass of purpling welts. “Do you think anything is broken?” he asked.
“Naw, but something might be if my old man finds out I got my ass whooped by a pack of cholos.”
After they ate, they slumped onto the couch in front of a projection. Alton awoke to the sound of his mother coming in.
“Is your friend okay?” she asked as she put her stuff down. “His nose is bleeding.” She spoke in a tone of sympathetic urgency Alton had never heard from her before.
Alex woke up. “Shit,” he said, jumping off the couch. “I’m sorry.”
“Mom, this is Alex. Alex, this is my mom, Lena.”
She smiled. Alton had never seen this smile before either, but he knew what it meant. He finally had a friend. A white friend. An older white friend. Probably also didn’t hurt that he was good-looking.
“You look like you’re in rough shape, Alex,” she said. “Let me patch you up a little bit.”
Were his own wounds invisible?
She took him into the kitchen, and when she was done, he had new bandages and his nose had stopped bleeding again.
“It’s getting late. Where do you live?” she asked him.
“Reseda.”
“Your parents must be worried.”
“My dad is at work. He doesn’t know I’m not home.”
“What about your mom?”
He hesitated. It was the first time Alton had ever seen Alex look anything but confident and carefree. “She left when I was young,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been really hard.”
Alton glared at his mother. In fourteen years, she hadn’t once said anything like that to comfort him about his father. But she wouldn’t return his gaze.
Since no one was home at Alex’s, Lena offered to let him spend the night. While Alton spread out a sleeping bag on the floor next to his bed, Alex poked around his room.
“I’ve never seen so many real books,” he said. “These must be old as shit.”
“I get them at the Stalls,” he said. “This one guy sells to me all the time. There’s no way he makes any money. I think he just likes to talk about them.”
“Why not just read on a device or holo-proj?” Alex asked.
Alton came over and gazed with Alex at the collection of creased spines and tattered covers. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I just like to hold them. There’s something about the fact that they were made.”
“That’s dumb,” Alex said.
The remark hurt, but Alton ignored it and left the room to grab a couple of pillows. When he returned, Alex was staring at a poster of a rocket launch, an arc of streaking light against the midnight sky.
“I went to space,” Alton said proudly. “Not a full orbit or anything, but I was up there for a few minutes.”
Alton was again stung when Alex seemed unimpressed, but finally he said, “Could be cool. You want to be an astronaut or something?”
“Maybe.”
“Good luck. They don’t take too many of our kind anymore. It’s all chinks and ragheads now. But who knows, maybe by the time you’re old enough, things will be like they used to again.”
Alton cringed at the language but stayed silent. He tried to avoid responding whenever Alex mentioned “us” or “our kind.” He wasn’t sure how his friend would feel if he knew what kind Alton really was. Or how Tiny and his friends would feel, for that matter. One thing was certain: everybody seemed obsessed with kind. “We should probably go to bed,” he said.
Alton lay awake in the dark for a while. He wasn’t sure if Alex was asleep until he heard, “Dude, your mom is pretty hot.”
Alton groaned.
“She must’ve had you young.”
“Very.”
“What happened to your dad?”
“He left before I was born.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No. And my mom has no interest in helping me find him. What about your mom?”
“My dad kept me when they split. I was like eight or something. I don’t know what happened to her after that. He wouldn’t let her see me.”
“He wouldn’t let her?”
“Yeah. She wasn’t down for the cause. And in my dad’s world, if you’re not with him, you’re with the enemy.”
CHAPTER 22
While Alton went to school the next day, Alex stayed at Alton’s house to convalesce and eat most of what was left in the fridge. He spent the next night there as well and then disappeared. At first, Alton thought he might be recovering from his wounds.
But after more than a week of silence, Alton wondered if maybe Alex’s dad did kick his ass or maybe pulled him from school. Maybe this sort of incident was why he had transferred to North in the first place.
Alton felt disappointed but decided it was probably for the best. Tiny and his friends had stopped harassing him, and he figured shit was squashed. He felt lonely and HoloTimed Bernardo. They made tentative plans to hang out at some point, but Bernardo seemed distant. He was taller and skinnier and looked and sounded like another person.
Alton was reluctant to tell him about Alex or the fight, and they didn’t have much else to say to each other. When they timed out, he felt lonelier than ever.
Just as Alton was getting used to invisibility again, Alex showed up at lunch, just like he had that first day, though dressed differently this time, in baggy clothes, despite the heat. Alton thought maybe he had decided to ditch the Hov’skate threads and the unwanted attention.
Alex waved and smiled when he saw Alton, then slid in across the table from him as though nothing had ever happened. The only difference from the first time he had invited himself to Alton’s table was that he had two chocolate milks with him rather than one.
Alton didn’t return his smile. “I thought you transferred schools again,” he said.
“Naw, just had some things to take care of.” He opened one of the milks and downed it.
“You couldn’t have kept in contact?”
“Are you my mother now?”
“Maybe if you had one, you’d know how to treat your friends.”
Alex gave him a stony stare, then broke into a rueful grin. “Good one,” he said. “You’re right, though. I’m sorry. I went somewhere that was kind of . . . secret. I couldn’t tell you about it.”
“Can you tell me about it now?”
“Better. I’ll show you. After school. Meet me at the ’loop.” He grinned again, grabbed the unopened milk carton, and went straight for the table where Tiny and his friends sat.
Alton was too far away to see exactly what happened, but suddenly the milk exploded with incredible force like a water balloon dropped from the roof, showering everyone in the vicinity.
Tiny’s crew leapt from their seats, initially too shocked to react. When they finally did lunge after Alex, the security lights in the cafeteria began whirring. Alex gave a bow and slipped out. His milk-sodden victims stared after him with lethal intent.
This guy is going to get me killed, Alton thought.
Against his better judgment, Alton met Alex after school. “You put a bomb in that milk?” Alton asked as Alex walked up.
“Something like that,” Alex chuckled.
The pod arrived, but Alex said, “Wait for the next one,” and nodded toward Tiny and his posse as they came through into the hub.
“No thanks,” Alton said. He stepped toward the pod, but Alex restrained him with one hand. The strength of his grip was startling. “Why are you trying to stir shit up again?”
“Trust me.”
There were seven in Tiny’s gang now. They came onto the platform and stared at Alex in disbelief. “You loco, white boy?” Bouncer asked.
The next pod slid into the station, and the doors hissed open. “After you,” Alex said and stepped back to give them room.
Tiny shook his head. “It’s your life, ese,” he said.
Alton turned to go. “I don’t want to be part of this.”
Alex clutched his shoulders more gently this time. Alton was surprised to see a weak pink light glowing from beneath his long sleeves. But before he could ask, the doors sealed behind them and they were off. Tiny and company had occupied the rear so their backs weren’t exposed.
Alex and Alton sat opposite them. No one was between them on the pod. Alton was hardly breathing. This was reckless even for Alex.
“Everything was chill,” Tiny said. “Why come back?”
“Unfinished business,” Alex said.
“I guess we’ll finish it then, once we get out.”
“Why wait?”
“You know why.” Tiny looked up, indicating the security alarms.
“Oh, is that all?”
The car instantly went black, leaving only the incandescent pink light that illuminated Alex. The light allowed for a little visibility, but the disoriented gang didn’t have time to adjust.
There was a sizzle of electricity, and two of them were launched, as if by an invisible force, against the sides of the pod.
Alex punched another, and there was a sickening cracking sound. He hurled the next kid against the two behind him, and all three spilled on top of Tiny, who yelped. The thumping of bodies rumbled through the small space.
While Alex was preoccupied, Bouncer scrambled over the tops of the seats, his body skittering against the wall of the pod like a gecko. At first, Alton thought he was coming for him, but then he saw the terror in the pink glow of his face and knew he was trying to escape. The door opened, and Bouncer sprang out. Alex turned to see him flee.
“No!” Alton yelled, but Alex was after his prey in a flash.
As soon as he was gone, the pod lights flickered on again, and Alton got a full view of the sprawled and moaning teens. There was blood everywhere. Tiny quavered under his pile of friends, then looked up at Alton in abject fear.
“I’ll try to stop him,” Alton said.
He looked around frantically, but they were nowhere in the station, so he took the stairs two at a time up to street level and ran past people who had stopped in their tracks, heads turned.
Following their gaze, he sprinted out of the pavilion, scanning side streets and alleys until he saw the pink light shining in full bloom.
He ran down an alley to find Alex pinning Bouncer against a dumpster. He seemed to be holding him in place with just one hand around his neck. Bouncer clutched and pawed to no avail. His eyes bulged from his bloodied face.
Alton shook off his shock. “That’s enough!” he yelled, running over.
Alex held his victim a beat longer, his face twisted in hateful satisfaction. Then he smiled and relaxed. “Sure, boss,” he said. Bouncer went to his knees, drawing ragged breaths.
Alton helped Bouncer up. “Go on, get out of here,” he said.
As Bouncer staggered away, Alex gave Alton a disappointed look.
“Are you trying to start a war?” The words raked Alton’s throat. He was surprised by the depth of his fury.
“War’s already started,” Alex said. “See?”
Alton looked up to see the fleet of drones buzzing in their direction.
“Ditch your watch,” Alton said, starting to take his off.
“Don’t need to. The augmentation prevents tracking. They’re running blind.”
I knew it, Alton thought. But didn’t only soldiers get augmentation? And they had it removed when they were discharged. It was highly illegal for a civilian to be augmented. And as far as Alton knew, it was almost impossible for a civilian to even find someone to augment them.
“They’ll find us soon enough!” Alton said. “Let’s go!”
“We can’t go to your place,” Alex said. “They’ll look for us there.”
“Trust me,” Alton said.
