Chasing Shadow (Shadow Puppeteer) (3 page)

“I hope you didn’t inject anything,” I said.

She didn’t respond.

I supported her weight, which made maneuvering difficult. The fact that she still stood on her feet helped tremendously. Her skin was clammy, but not like that thing in the bathroom. She looked like she was riding something stronger than liquor.

Despite my preoccupied situation with Starr, I felt the tension in the warehouse, like someone or something was slowly withdrawing the oxygen. At least she didn’t faint. I wouldn’t be able to carry her out on a good day and this was definitely not a good day.

The Junkyard had two entrances, one for the island habitants and one leading in from the ocean where proper World Congress citizens could sneak in for a bit of unmonitored fun. We were heading towards the back entrance and drawing a lot of attention. Costumes or not, these people were intimidating.

The electric current in the air was a small warning that the music was changing. On some level, the partygoers sensed it too. They moved towards the dance floor and we were caught in the rush. I held tighter to Starr as we were pushed farther from the door. The energy grew overwhelming, stripping my shields. I clung to them and Starr, with little luck. Desperation was setting in.

“Look, everyone’s on the dance floor. I want to dance too,” Starr said. Her head bobbed.

“No, we need to go.”

The first twinkling notes of music stopped me. The door was so far and Starr was so heavy. If I returned to the group, I’d be part of something greater. I wouldn’t be so alone. And I was so lonely. For a best friend, Starr was private.

I let her go and started towards the dance floor, when hands caught me. I knew the bare shoulder I was thrown over. There was only one guy here I’d seen with suspenders on. The Raver really was lingering around, watching me. It crossed my mind to be mad, but the music stole even that from me.

His strides were long. Within seconds, we were moving out the door and into the chilly night. When he placed me on my feet, I felt empty. My emotions were inside that building, along with my shields, yet nothing about the Raver imprinted on me.

“How—” My mouth was so dry. I tried again. “How could you walk away from that?”

“Get on that boat and get out of here,” he said.

“Give me my bracelet back.”

Starr grabbed my arm and her strength was surprising. For such a small chick, she managed to get me to step back. He stared hard at me and his jaw was so tense, I expected him to say something, but he turned and went back inside.

“There’s something about him that I don’t like,” Starr said.

She had
no
idea.

I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation about the bracelet with Ms. Sable. If she was a Berserker, there was no reason she’d keep me. Hopefully her anger didn’t include wanting to kill me.

Starr petted my arm, which was her way of saying cheer up. Anxiety rolled so heavily in my stomach that part of me wanted to curl up next to the junked cars and make this my new home. Now that we were out of the rave, my mind was clear and I was very aware of my pain. I was also aware that even with my shields down; Starr didn’t leave an emotional residue on me.

The cut fence was fairly close to the building, hidden by a stacked group of gutted cars. A wielder made the doorway more accessible. The first time we came here, the only way into the junkyard was by crawling under the fence and over littered items.

“Do you wonder how they cut the electricity off on this side of the fence? Doesn’t World Congress check the fences every day?” Starr asked.

She was too drunk to realize she asked these questions every time we were leaving.

I slid through the opening first, and helped Starr through. The small gravel path gave way to jutting rock. On good nights, the rock was tricky to climb up and down, and tonight, the both of us were somewhat incapacitated. I could already judge how bad the bruising and soreness was going to be in the morning. I held tightly to Starr’s arm, helping her down the rocks while taking a few sharp slides myself. What were a few more bruises?

“What did you do to piss someone off this time?”

Her question caught me off guard. I didn’t feel like mentioning what I went up against in the bathroom. I wasn’t even sure how to explain it. Having her in front of me didn’t ease the nightmare.

“I don’t feel like talking about it,” I said.

A small crowd gathered waiting for the boat that would take us back to our secure lives on the sister island, Ardent. Since there was no schedule for the boat, it was hard to say when there’d be another one. Among our peers was a woman in her early forties, two teenage lovers that were probably no older than we were and an older man with gray peppering his dark hair.

There was still a great amount of rumble with the rave at our backs and the surf right in front of us, but another noise stood out. It was high pitched and urgent. Sirens.

Starr leaned closer. “What do you hear?”

“Sirens.”

If the boat was busted for traveling between the islands, we’d be stuck here. Starr hugged her legs to her body and laid her chin against the top of her knees. She needed a bed and I needed a shower and gauze to wrap my wounds. I wasn’t sure if it was the battle that made my muscle throb or if the puncture wounds injured something vital.

Hopefully, the patrols were too far away to spot a small boat in this rising fog. Darkness was on our side. I braced myself against the cold that made the aches and pains sharper.

The older woman pulled to her feet. “A boat’s coming.”

Now that she mentioned it, I heard an engine puttering closer to shore, nearly lost to the shrill sirens. I stood and nudged Starr to do the same. If it was a patrol ship, we’d be the first back through the fence. I’d rather be stuck on the island than caught by World Congress. I didn’t want to go from foster care to a penitentiary. This bird would gain freedom any way she could.

The shabby boat that burst through the fog was the best thing I’d seen all night. Relief flooded me, but failed to ease my anxiety. I dug in the little pouch I sewn inside my shirt and pulled out soggy money.

The boat docked and the small group gave us room to board first. I must look terrible to instill such a need for distance among these people. We found our seats at the front, and the cold immediately enveloped us as we sat, adding more pain to my cramping muscles. The boat was meant for a lake, not the ocean with its lapping waves.

The last person barely got settled before the captain kicked away from shore and started the motor. I could feel the vibrations through the thin hull. It didn’t impart a great deal of trust in the dilapidated boat.

The stronger waves pushed us back towards shore, but the little motor was persistent. The island became smaller as a great deal of fog drew in around us. I hugged myself for warmth, but my wrists ached at the slightest movement.

I should be thinking about what I was going to tell Ms. Sable regarding her bracelet, but my attention was on the siren. It was growing louder.

“That’s coming from the asylum,” the man said.

“Why are we so close to the asylum?” the older woman panicked.

The boat bobbed erratically from the waves of an approaching ship.

“Make the boat move faster,” the older man demanded.

Despite how cold it was on the water, he took a white hanky to dab his sweaty face.

The teen stood. “I can make this piece of junk move faster.”

The older woman reached to stop the teen and the boat tilted dangerously. I caught the edge as water surged over the side, soaking Starr and me. The teen’s girlfriend grabbed the woman by the hair and yanked her back.

“Get her off me!” The woman screamed.

I stood, compelled to stop at least one of the two fights that broke out. Emotions surged and I didn’t have my razor to quiet their invading tides.

“Belen, don’t!” Starr warned.

In that split second, the captain went overboard.

“I’ve got it,” the young man said.

He messed with the motor and it puttered out. We were now sitting ducks.

Starr clutched my clothes as if that would keep me from moving. I jerked from her, ripping my shirt further as I leaned over the side of the boat. There was nothing but thick fog and black rolling water. I could barely see the captain’s head bobbing and tapped the side of the boat to get his attention.

I reached for him. “Over here.”

His movements were slow, weighed down with the possible onset of hypothermia. I reached as far as I could and a wave sent frigid water down the front of my shirt. I swallowed salt water and it burned the back of my throat.

Starr kept me from going overboard as I stretched as far as I could to reach him. His fingers were so close to mine. If the waves pushed the boat a few inches further, our fingers would touch.

The motor rattled and we were back in motion. I shoved forward, desperate to grab him. Our fingertips brushed. The ice was already slowing his thoughts, making him sluggish, but his empathy passed to me.

I shuddered with the intensity of it. Death. It crawled through my veins icier than the water.

Fear urged him too, for our fingers caught and I held as tightly as I could.

“I got you. I got you,” I couldn’t stop repeating that as I fought for a better hold. I was digging into his arm, trying to keep my grasp.

The waves grew choppy and the boat jerked at an angle. The hull whacked him so hard in the head that I could feel the vibrations of that hit. His fingers started to slip from my grasp and the pull of the boat didn’t help.

No. This couldn’t be happening. If I let go, he’d sink.

I reached down to grab his shirt, but Starr jerked me back as another wave sent us reeling. This little boat couldn’t handle the heavy currents. I had no feeling in my fingers so I couldn’t grip the sides.

“I got you,” Starr said.

There was a great deal of irony in hearing my words thrown back at me. I leaned against her, exhausted and shocked. We just killed a man.

“You’re heading the wrong way,” someone yelled.

The boat jerked and someone screamed. It felt so distant. I was grateful that Starr had a detached personality. I couldn’t afford someone else’s imprint. If I had my razor, I could end the captain’s sluggish emotion that currently resided in me.

“We just killed a man,” I said.

My voice was raw from the salt water I swallowed.

Starr squeezed my hand. “You tried to save him.”

Trying was not good enough. This wasn’t a game. Losing one’s life was a heavy toll and I was the last person he touched. No one in the boat looked bothered, not even Starr.

The light that pressed against the fog was getting brighter and the sirens louder. We were, in fact, heading towards the patrollers. I sat a little straighter.

The boat jerked to the side, barely missing a looming patrol ship. The spotlight landed right on us and I raised a hand to hide my face. Starr buried her face against my shoulder. The boat zoomed right back into the fog, but the patroller’s light trailed us.

This was it. We were caught. Hello penitentiary.

“They’re gaining on us. Faster. Drive faster.” The shouts were wild, merging together, and frothing like the water we left in our wake.

The fog horn blew and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. The horn sounded for incoming inmates at the Ardent Asylum and for it to be this loud, we were terribly close to the small manmade island. A moment later, we were caught in the tower light when we broke free from the fog.

There were five men standing in a row with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Each wore white Berserker face paint, with black streaks down their cheeks. It felt like their attention was on us and though the fence was high and no doubt their electricity actually worked, I felt the stirring of fear.

Fear and pain were good sensations. It generally pulled me from the weight of the emotions that imprinted on me.

I sank further into the boat as I played with that logic. There was no way they saw me at this distance with all the lights blazing on them. Even if they did, they were stuck on the island. It was my guilt riddled conscious haunting me for the captain’s death.

Berserkers were one group you just didn’t mess with. Their violence was feral in nature. They attacked in frenzied packs. With their weapons drawn, they cut anyone down who worked for or supported World Congress.

“Berserkers, hurry, get us away from the island,” the teen girl ordered.

Her voice was wild with fear.

More sirens blared, not quite rolling into one slicing sound. The little boat followed the circular island to the back where the flood lights hadn’t been triggered. Standing on Ardent’s shore, the asylum didn’t look as astoundingly high as it actually was.

A small dot of white was scaling the wall and I had a feeling he didn’t belong there. The Daily Dark said Diablo wore white. He was another figure I didn’t want to know firsthand, much like the Berserkers, though the Daily Dark never said he was responsible for anything violent.

My throat tightened. I felt vulnerable out here, witnessing all this chaos.

“Your boat is unlicensed. Stop the engine immediately,” an amplified voice boomed through the fog.

“What are we going to do?” Starr looked genuinely confused.

“Stop immediately or excessive force will be used,” the patroller warned.

“How can they even see us in this fog?” the older lady asked.

“It’s World Congress, they see everything,” the older man answered, stoically.

The sirens were right in our wake. At any minute, the patrol ship was going to overpower us and there was no clue if we were still heading towards Ardent. The search light on us went from gray to white as it got close enough to cut through the fog.

“This is your last warning. Stop or force will be used.”

“Don’t stop!” A myriad of voices ordered our new captain.

Starr squeezed my hand. It wasn’t enough to push everything from my head. The captain was still here inside me, though his real form had sunk. The thing I fought in the bathroom was here within me too, but only because my body ached and the image wasn’t quick to leave my thoughts.