Slip (The Slip Trilogy Book 1) (23 page)

BOOK: Slip (The Slip Trilogy Book 1)
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He leans forward and speeds up, closing fast. A red beam of light issues from a glass strip along the top of the holo-screen. “Ooh,” his mother says.

He grabs her and zips past the ad, the red laser shooting past them.

Circling, he gives the holo-ad a wide berth and steers the hoverboard straight through Wire’s door which, thankfully, is still open. “Thanks, Wire,” he whispers in the dark.

The door closes automatically and bright lights hit him in the eyes.

“Ahh,” his mother says.

 

~~~

 

Article from the Saint Louis Times:

Tucson Pop Con Hunters terminate family of Slips

In a shocking story that’s casting doubt over the effectiveness of the Department of Population Control, an entire family of Slips has been terminated by Pop Con Hunters in Tucson, Arizona. Four Slips between the ages of six and twelve were terminated on Tuesday, along with their unauthorized parents.

 

“There is no cause for concern,” said Tucson Head of Pop Con, Charles Bennett. “This is no indication as to a greater problem, and is more likely a one-off breakdown in the system. The more important thing to remember is that our well-trained Hunters tracked these criminals down and eliminated the threat. Our city can sleep easy knowing that the illegals are no longer stealing our food and resources.”

 

Charles Bennett had no comment when asked to discuss the current Sliphunt underway in Saint Louis, except to say that “Michael Kelly is an exceptionally capable Pop Con Chief.”

 

Have a comment on this article? Speak them into your holo-screen now.
NOTE: All comments are subject to government screening. Those comments deemed to be inappropriate or treasonous in nature will be removed immediately and appropriate punishment issued.

 

Comments:

CorriganMars: Congrats to Charles Bennett and his team for a job well done. I’m confident that the Saint Louis Slip will be terminated shortly, one way or another.

 

JamesOrtiz8: Corrigan Mars is on the message board?! What happened? Why did Pop Con let you go?

 

CorriganMars: It’s all a mix up that should be resolved shortly. In the meantime, know that the city is as safe as always and the Slip will be brought to justice.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

W
hat seems like hours later, Benson awakes with a start. Beside him, Luce groans. “What time is it?” she asks.

“The middle of the night, I suspect,” Benson says, mildly embarrassed and highly excited to find her nestled against his side. When she notices, she shrinks away.

“I—I’m sorry,” she says.

“You never have to be sorry again,” Benson says.

She bites her lip, looking as vulnerable as he’s ever seen her. It doesn’t last long, however, as the sharpness returns to the set of her jaw. The wall she’s built around her emotions seems as thick and impenetrable as the border walls. “Do you think it’s safe to go?” she asks.

“Luce, I—I’m sorry.”

“You already said that,” she says. “Stop saying that. If I don’t have to be sorry then neither do you.”

“You don’t have to forgive me, you know,” Benson says, wishing he was able to shut his stupid mouth. “I don’t know if I can forgive myself for putting all of you in danger.”

Luce whacks him in the chest. “Ow!” Benson exclaims. “What was that for?”

“For being exceptionally slow sometimes. This isn’t about you putting us in danger. I mean, you didn’t even know you were a Slip, right? Or if you did, you were in denial.”

Rubbing his chest, Benson says, “Wellll…”

Her glare seems to burn through him. “You knew?”

“I suspected,” Benson admits. “But I locked it away, tried to pretend the fake story my father made up was the real one. Who’s the damaged freak now?”

The intensity of her stare softens, which hopefully means he finally said the right thing. “At least we can be freaks together,” she says.

A joke. Benson will take a joke over another accusation. He smiles but can’t bring himself to laugh.

“I’m not even angry at you,” Luce says.

The skin on his chest stings from her slap. “You could’ve fooled me,” he says wryly.

“You haven’t seen angry yet,” she says.

He doesn’t doubt it. He remains silent, hoping to avoid seeing Luce really angry.

“I’m just…” She sighs. There’s defeat in her tone. “I tend to hide my feelings behind anger.”

“And violence,” Benson chimes in, immediately biting his tongue to try to stop it from forming words.

Luckily, she laughs. “And sometimes violence,” she admits. “The truth is I’m scared.”

“Um, I’ll protect you?” Like before, he hates how it sounds like a question.

She pinches him on the arm. Hard.
Owowow!
This time, however, he manages to hold the pain inside. “That’s not what I mean, you damn fool. I don’t need protecting. I’m scared because everyone I’ve ever cared about has been taken away from me. Like I’m cursed. I’m scared that Geoffrey will be next. Then you. Then Check and Rod and Gonzo. Then where will I be? Then what will I have? Nothing.”

Benson says nothing. He’s not used to having anyone care what happens to him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped all this on you when you’re the one being hunted by your father and his goons,” she says.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Benson says, still hung up on the fact that she stayed behind to protect him, rather than the other way around. It’s comforting—even if he knows he has to run from her the first chance he gets.

“Something I don’t understand,” Luce says, “is why your father would help you survive but then go after you the moment you were identified.”

Benson chews his lips, considering how much to tell her. Secrets have only made things worse so far. “I don’t think it’s my father hunting me,” he says.

“What? Of course it is.”

“Hear me out. That guy doesn’t work for my father anymore.”

“The cyborg?”

“Yeah. He was sacked, remember? They showed it on the holo-screen, along with Corrigan Mars. I think they’ve gone rogue.” Benson’s wheels are spinning faster and faster. “Yeah, my father is probably trying to protect me. That’s why he sacked them. Only it didn’t take. They aren’t backing off. They’re hunting me anyway.”

Luce squeezes his hand, which feels considerably better than a pinch to the arm. “You’re just guessing,” she says. “It’s your father’s job to find you.”
To kill you
, she doesn’t say.

“It was his job before, too, when I was a kid. He protected me. He saved me.”
He abandoned me.
Benson wonders whether the more important things are what they’re not saying, what seems to be passing between them like telepathic messages.

“I have to get back to Geoffrey,” Luce says. “I can’t believe I left him. I wasn’t thinking. All I knew is that I couldn’t leave you alone while we were all together.”

“No,” Benson says. “If we try to find them we’ll just end up leading Pop Con to them. They’re better off away from us. Pop Con will lose interest in them as they close the net on us.”

“How comforting,” Luce says.

Stupid, stupid, stupid
, Benson thinks. “I’m just trying to tell it like I see it. Honestly, Geoffrey will be safer away from me. Check, Rod, and Gonzo will keep him safe. They’re smart and they’ve been running from the authorities longer than both of us.”

Luce’s eyes catch his, lingering for a moment. “Thank you,” she says. “You’re right. Geoffrey will be safer with them.”

“And so will you,” Benson says. “That cyborg freak probably doesn’t know who you are yet. You could still get away—find the others. Find your brother.”

“Shut. Your. Mouth,” Luce says. “I’m not leaving you alone. You won’t survive one minute on your own.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Benson says.

“Sometimes the truth hurts. Look, we have to get back to my brother and the others, but only when it’s safe. Only when we won’t lead the bad guys right to them.”

Benson doesn’t respond, mulling it over.

“I just mean you need someone to watch your back,” Luce adds.

If not for the seriousness of their situation, Benson would’ve loved to hear those words on Luce’s lips. Instead, they just remind him that whatever happens to her is on him. “I can’t let you do that,” he says, trying to infuse steel into his tone.

Luce laughs. “Let me? I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

Benson shakes his head. Compared to the shattered, flinching girl who only last night told him the heartbreaking story of her almost-rape, this Luce is like the warrior princess from one of his favorite episodes of The Adventures of Zoran. “How do you do it?” he asks.

“Do what?” Luce says, knitting her brows together.

“Act so tough when…” As Benson tries to find the words, he wishes he hadn’t decided to ask the question at all.

“I’m really so weak?” Luce finishes for him.

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. I
am
weak. We all are. Only through our positive thinking and actions do we become strong. Even the weakest person in the world can become the strongest in their own mind.”

“Oh.” It’s not what Benson expected her to say. Not even close.

Luce runs a finger across Benson’s skin, sending lightning bolts up his arm. He relishes every touch—every time she doesn’t flinch away from him because of her past. “What are we going to do?” she asks.

Benson tries to focus, but realizes it’s not just the incredible sensation of Luce’s touch that’s confounding him. It’s everything—the whole situation. The fact that she said
we
. The fact that there’s nothing they
can
do. Except get as far away from his friends as possible and keep on running like a stray dog from the dog catcher bots.

But there’s one thing he does know: If he’s going to die, he at least wants to know the truth from his father before he does. Where he came from, why he didn’t have a birth authorization, and why his father pushed him in the river that day.

“I’m going to confront my father,” he says.

 

~~~

 

There’s a reason why very few UnBees escape detection long enough to become a full-fledged Slip. The entire city is set up to track its citizens. Although holo-ads are designed to sell products, the Department of Population Control has a direct feed to the information they provide. Any anomaly or aberration pops up as an alert, and Crows and Hawks converge on the location like flies on fresh feces.

Sticking close to each other’s sides, Benson and Luce make their way down the lighted city streets, hugging the shadows near the buildings. As each floating holo-ad passes by, Benson covers his eyes with a hand while Luce takes the retinal scan. “Lucy Harris, would you like the chance to win a trip to the northern border? Speak ‘I want to win!’ now.”

“Go to hell,” she says.

“Next time you might want to go with ‘no, thank you,’” Benson whispers.

“That would raise an even bigger red flag,” Luce says. “I’m never that polite to the holo-ads.”

It’s a good point. “What if they’re looking for you, too?” Benson asks.

Luce lowers her voice as a holo-ad whizzes by, ignoring them, likely heading back to the company for reprogramming or repair. “I doubt they’ve linked us together yet,” she says.

Linked us together.
Benson likes the sound of that. If only. As they turn a corner, he searches for an opportunity to slip away.
Slip
away. Ha.

Laughing internally at his bad joke, Benson notices a flash of yellow above him, dangling from a street light. A kite, complete with a long tail decorated with red wings. Not unlike the kites he used to see flying overhead from his fenced-in backyard. He’s never seen a kite in the city. Never. It’s like every aspect of his past is finally catching up with him, forcing itself to be heard—to be remembered.

“Where is this guy you know that can remove your fake retinas?” Luce asks, drawing his attention away from the stuck kite.

Benson cringes. “Well, I don’t exactly know him,” he says.

“What? You said you know a guy.”

“I said I know
of
a guy,” Benson says.

Luce stops and turns on him. Uh oh. He can practically feel her wrath pulsing through her skin, coming off in hot waves. Is this her being scared again? Sometimes he wishes her version of scared was a little more timid and less I-want-to-rip-your-head-from-your-shoulders. “What if we find this guy and he turns us in for the reward money? Surely he won’t take a risk on aiding a Slip.”

Benson has already thought of that. “He has a reputation to maintain. In his line of business, client anonymity is everything.”

“No,” Luce says. “Money is everything. And staying alive. This is a bad idea.” Benson watches in morbid fascination as her hands go to her hips.

“I can’t keep running around the city hoping my eyes don’t get scanned,” Benson says.

Her stance remains rigid for three more beats and then her body relaxes. “I know. You’re right. It’s just, there has to be a safer way.”

“Check would know what to do,” Benson says, feeling a pang of fear in his chest. What if the deranged cyborg and his rogue Hunters find his friends instead of him? What lengths will they go to in order to find him? Would they hurt his friends? Would they kill them?

“We have to keep moving,” Luce says, blocking a holo-ad that floats too close.

“Lucy Harris…female…sixteen years old…do you have a boyfriend?”

“None of your damn business,” Luce says to the screen. “Leave me alone.”

The holo-screen attempts to get around her and Benson shields his eyes, seeing the red scanner beams squirming between his fingers.

“I said leave me alone,” Luce growls, trying to push between the hover-screen and him.

The floating ad bumps his shoulder. What the heck? As annoying as the ads can be, they’ve never touched him before.

“Pushy bugger,” Luce says, and Benson hears a crash. He peers through his fingers to find Luce standing over a shattered holo-screen.

An electronic static-filled voice says, “Destruction of public property is a criminal offense.”

“Add it to the list,” Luce growls.

“Lucy Harris, do you have a boyfriend? If so, the perfect gift is our new fragrance for him, ‘Thunder.’ Add the perfect storm to your relationship today.”

With a heavy stomp, she crushes the screen under her foot and it finally goes silent. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she says, turning to Benson.

“That was weird,” Benson says. “Something’s not right.”

“You think? We’re being chased by Hunters who, oh yeah, don’t actually work for the Department of Pop Con.”

“Crap,” Benson says, spotting movement.

“Yeah, this sucks.”

“No, I mean, look.”

Luce follows Benson’s finger to where it’s aimed at another holo-ad, which is heading lazily in their direction. “Let’s go,” Luce says.

She grabs Benson’s hand and they pick up their pace, moving down the street, which ends in a T-intersection. Benson pulls her to the right, his brain automatically analyzing the map of the city he’s memorized and determining the quickest route to their destination.

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