Chapter 10

A chime of broken glass sprang from my foot as I entered the building through a side door, making my path. Fluorescent lights dangled from the corroded metal rods in the ceiling, and every room was filled with big light brown desks. Long chalkboards on the wall. So worn, you could see the bricks behind it. Rusted pipes about a foot from the ground, most of them busted open. Cottonmouth attacked my lips, but I called out anyway.

"Weston? This is a school, man. Are there any kids here?"

My response came back to me with my voice, echoed off the walls down the hallway. I crept best I could. Tiptoeing over the debris covering the floor, windows nonexistent. A decrepit staircase appeared before me, and I descended towards the basement. A concert of low sniffles, muffled cries, and coughs erupted further into the darkness. Out my peripheral, I swore I saw shadows moving, but couldn't tell if it was real or the Yellowstone. I threw my voice into the darkness, and this time no echo came back.

"This is a direct order of the Enforcers, passed down from the Citadel! Remove your weapon and walk forward. If my judgment marks you as a threat, I am permitted to end your life, right here and now."

"Help!" the squeak came from a child, albeit older, but not past puberty.

"You...you're a child? Are you alone?"

"No, there's a lot of us. Quick, open the cages. A few have already gotten too sick to move." "Cages?"

I drew my service weapon. I never intended on shooting anyone, but the Yellowstone started inducing paranoia into my head. Swirling thoughts like: What if it's a trap? Children are criminals too. Don't die on day one. I let the safety go, and glided into the black abyss, trying to avoid more shattered glass on the ground. After three attempts I located the flashlight on the side of my gun and turned it on. That's when I saw it. Stacks of metal cages, a least ten altogether, stuffed with children inside. A range of ages from nine to infants. Odors of sweat and piss reverberating off the brick walls.

"Get the girl out first, she ain't breathing!" exclaimed the squeaky kid, waving his hand through the bars on a cage close to the ground.

I kneeled and examined the cheap bronze locks on the outside. From my holster, I whipped out a spray can, and squirted a pearl white fluid on the bolts. It melted within seconds, resembling liquid gold. A multitude of kids poured out, leaving blood trails from their knees and elbows. Each one was more upsetting than the next. Ribs were showing, peeling cracked lips, a few missing strands of hair. The squeaky child emerged last, holding a tiny one-year-old girl. He offered her frail, naked body to me.

"Make her breath. It's been nearly an hour!"

I hesitated, and immediately rejected the idea of CPR. Something about it didn't rub me the right way. She felt about ten pounds heavy, and I swapped her with the spray can. Ordering the squeaky kid to open the rest of the cages. Double-vision reoccurred at the worst time, and out of panic, I smacked the one year on the back harden than intended. She released a hard cough, and a ball of fabric flew out from inside her mouth. The infant tried to eat someone's shirt, and it got caught in her throat.

Palpitations hit my heart watching the infant girl cry. She was alive because of me. Her tiny hand gripped my thumb, and a tear escaped my eye. Nearly every kid we freed got placed into an orphanage, even though the Citadel report was littered with lies.

Weston located a safe in the school, overloaded with ruvens and Yellowstone. Though he claimed it was empty and split the ruvens with me. Hush money on day one. Dirt stains on the badge. Regardless, at the orphanage, the infant gained healthy weight. Acclimatized to life beyond the past trauma.

A quiet, decent place in District 3 called Archimedes. Keeping tabs was easy on an unwanted child. One year later, when we legally could, my wife and I adopted her. Our only child, I named her Halo.

My stroll down memory lane was cut short by the abrupt screeching of Grey Mason into the speakers. Only the command towers had them, but they were so powerful everyone on Titan could hear him crystal.

"WAKE UP BALL BAGS! Drop off in ten minutes! I repeat, drop off in ten minutes! When the Meskle is released, we will return to our Command Towers. Previous to that, the Umbrage on the floor will provide a Citadel- approved amount of water. Plus small rations of today's special: Mashed potatoes. If anyone attempts to jack with any part of that operation, you will be killed on sight. The rations and Meskle will be pulled back, along with the water. One of you does something wrong, and all of you pay for it. Understand that. What hurts my inmate hurts me!

Drop off in nine minutes."

A mixture of phlegm and blood came out of me in the form of a cough. Reconstructing the man I was yesterday, crouching in the shrubs near the crawlspace. I imagined it was my body going through withdrawal from the Blue Diamonds. Worsened by the fact that I hadn't slept the rest of the night. Mildly paranoid, I kept my hands in my pocket, gripping the box cutter. I won't lose it like I did the chains.

Guilt trips don't come naturally to me, but I felt responsible for Leif's death. Under the giant pearl eye of the stalking moon when I relocated his corpse. I stuffed Leif's body in the hole head first. Wasn't a long-term plan, but I couldn't leave him on the tree. Plus, if I waited long enough, the killer would return to the scene of the crime and see Leif gone. Maybe I can get the drop on him, bring him to the Vipers. Get in their good graces. My eyes were bloodshot red from exhaustion, and Puck's voice cut through me like a drill.

"Whose turn is it?" he hollered from inside the bottom cave.

Details of his muscular physique bathed in the rose-pink light of dawn, as he stretched and yawned, emerging from the cave. He was flawless. Eerily clean of battle wounds to be in a place like this. I wanted to tell him about Leif, but I figured Tomorrow would understand me better. Soon as he comes out, I'll grab his ear.

"How about funnyman? You still alive? If you can hear me, answer me," he ordered, as more Vipers exited the caves and gathered on the flatland.

I stooped deeper inside the shrubs. I admit, given the state of lunacy I was in, I was afraid to speak.

"Drop off in five minutes!" Grey reminded us, as everyone held their ears from the feedback that followed.

I stared into the now crimson sky, looking for a sign, watching the sun slowly wake up with me. Splashing an apricot color, peeking over the clouds. Inmates from all over began appearing thirty feet in front of me, preparing for the drop, dragging empty nets. Amongst the horde was Tomorrow, easily a foot taller than everyone else. From my point of view, he was the only Viper there.

"It's rude not to speak when spoken too, funnyman," Puck chimed in, walking in my direction.

I saw him fidgeting with something in his pocket, and sweat leaked from my hand, clutching the box cutter. I feared if I pulled it out now, it'd probably slip from my grasp. Puck stretched his neck to the side when he got a clear image of me. Squatting by the crawlspace, perspiring like I was passing a stubborn bowel movement. Leif's boots were sticking out. The words 'I can explain' screamed in my head, but wouldn't leave my mouth.

When Puck took his hand out his pocket, inside it was a vial of Blue Diamonds, and he took two droplets in front of me. After a smack of his lips, he edged the vial in my direction.

"Early morning Blue, funnyman? For your troubles," Puck sang, the words dancing out his mouth melodically.

"No...no thanks. I... water. I need water."

"Hmm, suit yourself, killer. Seems Tomorrow took your spot, he's gonna wrangle our food in. Least you could do is get the very thing you need. I'd be thirsty too if I killed a man last night. Don't forget to bring back some of them mashed potatoes. Though, between you and me, I'm sure it's mostly runaways. Round here they call that recycling. Sure you don't want no Blue? Makes the sky look nice."

"I...didn't kill anyone," my response shook out, voice cracking with the words, unsure of myself. Puck's intimidation made me question everything.

"Course you did, you calling me a liar?"