Afterburn, page 24
“And it’s not just the gringos who’ve shit on us. My grandparents and even my parents were persecuted for being too brown in South Texas. Their own people, light-skins, looked down on them, even though everybody had the same last names, the same ancestors.”
So, that’s why you hate me, he thought. I’m a half breed that looks white.
“Why did you join the military if you feel that way about the Constitution?” he said.
“Because I hated school, and it gave me a passport out of that dusty-ass pueblo pequeño. Once I realized I was good at it and got into special forces, there was no reason to leave.”
“But you still fight for the United States.”
“I fight for my unit, for the soldier beside me.” She crossed herself. “I fight for what I want this country to be, not for what it is.”
And yet you came back for me, he thought but kept this to himself. He didn’t want to push it.
They came to a stream and watered themselves and then continued on into the deep shadows of late afternoon. Alton had begun to tip all his weight onto his prosthetic leg, which easily bore it, but the subsequent painful misalignment of his hips and back forced him to quit for the day.
“We still have light,” she said.
“What’s the point? We don’t appear to have gotten any closer to civilization.”
“Sit on your worthless ass, then. I’ll build a fire.”
“You have a flame?”
“I graduated from SERE school. I could get a spark rubbing polar bear nuts together.”
She finally got a fire started after many failed attempts. He kept it going while she gathered some berries and a few wild mushrooms, but if anything, they just whetted his appetite. He understood the meaning of the word ravenous for the first time.
After she had exhausted her search, she slumped down across the fire from him, her eyes hollow as they stared into the flames. Her head wound was deep purple in the soft light. The stitches seemed to be unraveling.
“Are you doing okay with that?” he said.
“It’s just pain, Civvie. You learn to deal with it.”
“At SERE school?”
She looked up, surprised at the joke. “Among other places.” She smiled a little.
He had heard that torture was part of SERE training. He thought about mentioning his own experiences with torture, but he didn’t feel like comparing notes on suffering just then. She probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. Or care.
“What happened after you dove off the mountain?” he asked instead. “I saw them nail you with the web gun.”
“The web wrapped me up, but it only kills electrical signals. The packs run on fuel. I was trapped in the web, floating, but I could still manipulate the pack with my hand controls. So, I descended slowly, making sure I didn’t impale myself on a tree, and got to the ground.”
“How did you get out of the web?”
“They run out of juice after twelve hours.”
“You were tied up and bleeding in that thing for twelve hours?”
“At least I had my TALOS to keep me from freezing.” She rubbed her arms at the memory and inched closer to the fire.
“Then what?”
“I had to scale the cliff to get back to our camp. Took me about half a day. Gagné was waiting there.”
He stared at her.
“What?”
“You are a complete badass.”
She shook her head. “My team is dead, and I survived. It should be the opposite. I failed in every way possible.”
He considered saying something consoling, but he knew that would only make it worse, so he stared at the fire for a while. The crackling of orange and blue plasma made him think of rocket ignitions and Bernardo.
“You said I have no connection to the culture, but my best friend when I was a kid was Hispanic,” he mused. “I spent a lot of time with him and his family.”
“Remind me to put you up for a heritage award.”
“It’s ironic that the Nibelungs in camp would have killed me for being half Hispanic, while you refuse to accept me as anything but white. People see what they want to, I guess.”
“Tell me anything about your Mexican side. And food doesn’t count.”
“My dad was gone before I was born. I didn’t have a chance to pick up much.”
“You couldn’t have bothered to learn about your father’s family in all these years? I thought you were an educator!”
“Maybe I should have made more of an effort,” he said. “But I lost the desire to after I met him.”
They sat in silence. The breeze gusted through the trees, showering the forest floor with pine needles. Amethyst lightning forked across the distant sky.
“Do you think that’s headed toward us?” he asked.
“Maybe. It seems pretty far away, for now anyway.”
She stirred the fire a little more, which just sent the smoke billowing into her face. She tossed her stick into the flames and came over and sat next to him. “So, what happened with your dad?” she asked.
He looked at her. “You really want to know?”
“Not really, but anything is better than thinking about how hungry I am.”
PART IV
CHAPTER 45
To Alton’s surprise, the misery of his childhood lifted somewhat in his senior year of high school. He had become involved in a few activities and made some casual friends. Advisors had identified him as college material and begun helping him prepare.
But of course, most of his joy came from Kiara. Alex was long gone from the school, and she and Alton rode the ’loop to campus, ate lunch together, even formed a book club with a few of their classmates. The little group ran riot through the Stalls every Saturday morning, breathlessly unearthing fresh analog treasures.
Periodically, there was news of an attack that seemed like something Kurt’s group might be responsible for. Especially after what Alton had seen out in the desert, he wondered if they were ramping up their activity, but he didn’t want to know the details.
Besides, it didn’t matter. The fact that he had forged such a strong friendship with Kiara was worth everything he had endured because of Alex. He knew that Kiara saw Alex alone and that they were likely intimate, but his friendship with her was enough.
Then Alex ruined it, just like he always did.
Alton was taking the ’loop to meet her now, when a hand fell on his shoulder, making him whirl around in his seat. “Damn it, can you ever just ping me first?”
“Can’t be too careful anymore,” Alex said. “We need to talk.”
They went up to the street at the next stop, where Alex led them to an empty bench in a wide-open pavilion. “You’re looking good, man,” Alex said, as they sat down. “Have you gotten taller?”
If Alton hadn’t been shielding his eyes from the 4:00 p.m. sun, he would have rolled them.
“I’m glad you and K have become close,” Alex continued, nodding as though it was some plan he had set in motion. “Anyway, I’m guessing you know why I’m here.”
Alton’s annoyance was building. He was supposed to meet Kiara for pizza. He had been looking forward to it. “No. I don’t.”
“You promised my dad you would be available at some future time of his choosing.”
Alton’s stomach dropped. He must have looked funny because Alex raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“You remember, don’t you?”
“I remember not having much of a choice.”
“Do you think you do now?”
Alton almost laughed at the nerve. “What does he want me to do?”
Alex waited as a Hispanic couple with a black Lab glided past on hover skates. Alton could tell Alex was glaring at them behind his shades.
“This candidate for governor, Guerrero, is having a big fundraiser a few weeks from now,” Alex said.
“Yeah . . . and?”
“It’s being hosted by Fernando Torres.”
The name sent a jolt through Alton. He hadn’t heard it in a while.
“My dad wants security access to the Torreses’ compound that night.”
“No way,” Alton said. “I’m not going to help you hurt them. Anything but that.”
“It’s not that kind of mission. Guerrero’s security is too good to crack remotely, and we want to get our hands on some hardware so we can get dirt on his campaign.”
“How am I supposed to help?”
“We need you to be our inside man. You know the place well.”
“I used to. But I haven’t been over there in years,” he said. “It would seem suspicious if I suddenly showed up.” He thought for a moment. “Why not ask my mom? She still works for Torres. She helps out at every big event.”
“She’s not talking to my dad since they split.”
So, that’s why she’s been so down, Alton thought.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Someone will contact you within a week. You’ll work out the details with him.”
“I still don’t know how I’m going to get in there.”
“That’s where you need to get creative. Kiara’s always telling me how smart you are. Let’s see you put it in action for once.”
The for once stung. Alex always knew how to twist the knife.
“Is this really what you want?” Alton said. “To be drawn into your dad’s war? Hiding out all the time? What about your future?”
“There won’t be a future if we don’t act now, Alton. It’s disappointing that you can’t see that.”
He sat across from Kiara in the dingy pizza joint, untouched slices slapped onto greasy paper plates in front of them. Their VR table headsets projected a waterfront bistro in Venice, a profoundly realistic simulation, right down to the bird turds splattered on the wrought-iron railing.
Normally, with the faint harpsichord and the fake soft light on the fake canal, Alton would have enjoyed a romantic fantasy. But today the mood was bleak.
“I thought he was just trying to scare you that night,” she said. “Teach you a lesson or whatever. I never thought he would force you to actually do something.”
“It’s such bad timing. I’ll be back East at college in the fall.”
They watched a gondola float by, the burnished bow glinting in the virtual afternoon sun.
“Are you going to go through with it?” she asked.
“What choice do I have?”
“You could run away. Just leave. I doubt they’d come after you.”
“I’d miss you too much,” he said and met her eyes. She looked away, and he was disappointed.
“It wouldn’t have to be forever,” she said. “Maybe just for a little while? You know they’re going to arrest Kurt for something eventually.”
“Yeah, maybe . . . but where would I even go?”
He arrived home late a few nights later to find some creep loitering outside his building. He was shocked to see that it was the man from the music festival, with black hair and pasty skin—the one Alex had said did DNA tracking for his dad. The man tilted his head as Alton approached, indicating he should follow him around to the unlit side of the building. Alton paused, feeling the same chill he had in the tent that night, then plunged into darkness.
Up close, even in shadow, the man wasn’t just pasty but desiccated, with sunken cheeks and ancient acne scars. He looked to make sure that no one had followed and then spoke with an accent that Alton thought might be southern European. He dropped a small plastic nodule into Alton’s palm. “Earpiece on an encrypted channel. You can contact me if you need to, but try to keep the channel clear on the night of the event.”
Alton looked it over. It was as dry and creepy as a dead insect.
“Your mother won’t be issued an event security badge until after she arrives; is that right?” the man asked.
Fear gripped him, and he fought his instinct to escape back into the well-lit street. “Yeah, they . . . they give her a new one for every event.”
“Go in and get her security badge and bring it out to me. I’ll be waiting on the corner by a transformer, wearing a Century Utility uniform. There will be a van there as well.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” His fear was giving way to annoyance. “You think she’s just going to hand it over and I’m going to breeze out past security?”
The man shrugged. “Go when guests are starting to arrive so there will be more distraction and cover.”
“I’m sure that will solve everything.”
“Look kid, Kurt told me you could handle it.”
“You know her badge has her picture on it, right?” His annoyance was growing.
“Don’t worry about that. I just need the components, not the shell.”
“Then what?”
“Then you get out of there and don’t look back. Your debt will be paid.”
“You make it all sound so easy. What if I can’t manage it?”
“This is the most painless way to do this,” the man growled. “For you and for the people there. That includes your mother and your friend. If this fails, subsequent methods become more painful.”
Alton shook his head and resisted the urge to spit. These people were complete scum. But his disdain made it easier for him to say what he said next, the thing he had been fearing the most. “I’ll figure it out,” he said. “But I want something from you too.” He resisted the urge to call him “Crater Face.”
“That’s not the deal.”
“I don’t give a shit.” His trembling now was more from anger than fear. “You’re the guy who does DNA tracking, right?”
“I don’t know where you heard that,” he said and turned to go.
The words spilled out of him. “You’re going to find somebody for me. Otherwise, you can explain to Kurt why you fucked this up when I don’t show and the cops do.”
The man gave him a menacing look, his features gnarled in shadow. Alton’s blood ran cold, but he stood his ground.
“I could end you here, and nobody would have any idea.”
“But you won’t,” Alton said. “Because you only do what your supreme leader commands.”
The man seemed bemused by this. “If that’s true, what makes you think I would track someone without his permission?”
“Because he’ll never know about it. And I’ll feel a lot more motivated to do your dirty work.”
“Who would I be looking for?”
“My father.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
“I’ve never seen him. Not in person anyway.”
“I’ve got to have DNA to do DNA tracking, kid.”
Shit, he thought. That part never even occurred to me. But then he had an idea. “Just wait here,” he said.
He ran into the lobby, took the elevator to his darkened apartment, his heart pounding. In his room, he pulled the trumpet case down from the top of his closet and tore out of there again. Back in the alley, gasping for breath, his hands fumbling from adrenaline, he unlatched the case and removed the metal mouthpiece. “What about this?” He held it toward the dull light.
Crafter Face produced a handkerchief and took the mouthpiece by its tip. “How long since he played it?”
“Before I was born.”
“I doubt there will be usable genetic material here, but give me the case. I’ll see if my guy can lift anything. But you’re not getting it back.”
“That’s fine,” Alton said, re-latching it and handing it over. If this works, I won’t need it anymore. And if it doesn’t, I’m done trying to find the bastard.
CHAPTER 46
Alton tried to concentrate on normal life, but the possibility of locating his father—along with the dread of what he would have to do if he couldn’t—made that impossible. Then, a few mornings later, as he set the earpiece on the edge of the bathroom sink to get in the shower, it began flashing green. He grabbed at it, knocking it behind the toilet. He didn’t even bother to stand, just jammed it in his ear while leaning on the bowl.
The message played. “All right, kid, we couldn’t get anything off the mouthpiece, but lucky you, there was some residue inside the . . . what do you call it . . . spit valve. Your dad spent all of yesterday at the Golden Gate Trade Plaza in San Francisco. The address is . . .”
Alton yelped and leaped up, smacking his head on the edge of the sink. But he was too elated to feel pain. He stuffed a few things into his backpack and tore off to school to tell Kiara.
“He’s in San Francisco!”
“Oh my God,” she said as they stood in the white morning sun outside their first-period auditorium. “I’m so happy for you!”
“I know! He could have been dead! He could have moved to Peru! Who knows what . . .”
“So, are you going to try to call him?” She shivered a little in the crisp March air, and he wanted more than anything to pull her close.
“Nope.” He grinned. “I’m going to surprise him in person.”
Her muted response wasn’t what he was hoping for. “What is it?” he asked.
“What if . . . he doesn’t want to see you? Or he’s a giant asshole or something? Maybe don’t leap so far just yet?”
He felt almost angry at her. “I’m in trouble, and he has a chance to help me. What father wouldn’t want to do that? Besides—you said it yourself—I have to get out of here. I can’t wait around for him to call me back.”
She gave him a weak smile as the first hour bell rang. “Come on,” she said.
“I’m leaving right now,” he said, shouldering his backpack. “I’ve already booked the CHSR.”
“Now?”
“Yeah! This is it!”
“Just be careful, okay?”
“I will,” he said. “Shit, I don’t know when I’ll see you again.” Now, they did embrace, and she let it linger a moment. He wished more than anything in the world that she would come with him, that they could discover a new life together and never return. Let Alex wonder where they went. Let him feel the hurt of rejection for once.
“Message me when you get there,” she said. “Let me know you’re safe.”
