Where There's Fire (Panopolis Book 2) (9 page)

I understood that, at least from a strategic standpoint, but . . . “I don’t— I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be obtuse, but I don’t see how I can help with that. My power, it only works when I’m touching someone, and nobody can touch Freight Train. His force field is impermeable to everything but air.”

“But you know that’s not true,” Maggot said. “He manages his biological processes somehow. And you have that information.”

I was mystified. “How do you know that?”

“I have eyes and ears all over this city, Mr. Dinges. Did you think that Impulse was the only person tailing you when you went to visit Ms. Clark the other day?” He tutted. “Poor Impulse, you did quite a number on him. I don’t think he’s yet recovered.” Maggot smiled. “Well, certainly not after what I did to him when I found out he’d failed.”

I shouldn’t ask, but I had to know. “What did you do?”

“I . . . demoted him, let’s say. Took away his little helper and gave it to a more worthy follower. Everyone who sides with me has to prove themselves against the competition, Mr. Dinges. I don’t make maggots fast enough to hand them off to just anyone who wants to join my crew, and if you lose one, well . . . you’re fair game. He’s probably still alive, though.”

Maggot seemed to think about it for a moment. “Somewhere. In the end, you led me to Ms. Clark. She was eager to share all sorts of information with me after my representative threatened to break her daughter’s hands. Don’t worry,” he reassured me as I started. “My representative only had to break one of them. Ms. Clark has connections in the drug trade that make it worthwhile for me to keep her alive for now, and among her juicy tidbits was the news that you not only know how the estimable Freight Train takes care of himself, you know what the devices look like.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as I pictured Lettie and Kami’s careful sanctuary breached, and my spine crawled—Kami had been hurt because of me. I wanted to put my head between my knees to help me catch my breath. Even if I lived through this, Lettie would probably never speak to me again for bringing so much trouble to her door.

Focus. I opened my eyes and spread my hands helplessly. Corvid’s dark eyes followed the golden gleam of my stolen watch. He was a Villain who’d made his name as a mugger, ripping the bright and shiny things off his victims’ hands and necks and often killing them in the process. I forced myself to look away from him.

“The devices aren’t that special.” Freight Train’s feeding tubes were like thick cardboard straws. They were pretty plain if you didn’t take into account the tingle that came from the energy suffusing them.

“Special enough that they can reach right through his force field. I need something that will let me do that so I can get a little helper onto Freight Train. Mr. Dinges, I want you to go to GenCorp’s main research facility and retrieve one of these things for me, along with any information they’re hoarding on Freight Train’s powers. You’re going to become my expert on handling that particular Hero.” Maggot folded his hands together over his heavy stomach and smiled benignly, like a zombified St. Nick.

“Let me be clear: I don’t need you to do this. You and Freight Train have history, but that’s a very small mark in your favor. I could send someone else into GenCorp, but this is your chance to prove your worth to me. It’s the only chance you’ll be getting. I don’t bring people into the cause based solely on their reputations, and while you’ve managed to make a name for yourself lately, I’m not at all sure you’re deserving of it. I know that your boyfriend isn’t, but if you succeed, I’ll bring both you and the Mad Bombardier into the fold with no hard feelings.”

Oh, there would be hard feelings. I could see Raul fantasizing about his revenge now. However, there was no choice. I’d do it so that Raul would be alive and able to fantasize about revenge. “When do you want me to do it?”

“There’s no time like the present, I think.”

Wait . . . what? No time to plan, no time to research and surveil and do the dozen other things that went into pulling off a job successfully? Not that I had yet, since my first-and-last job had gone to hell rather spectacularly—god, was it just this morning? “That’s a tall order.”

“Consider it a trial by fire,” Maggot suggested. “If you pull it off, great. If not, then I won’t waste any more time on you. This revolution is happening, Mr. Dinges, whether you’re a part of it or not. The only way you will be part of it is if you get me what I want. There’s really no answer but yes, I think. However, in case you’re in need of more motivation, let’s tack an addendum onto this.” He steepled his sausage-like fingers. “I’m going to send a few people along to keep an eye on you, discreetly of course. If you try to go to the police, or a Hero, or warn anyone about what I’ve got planned, I’ll find out, and your Bombardier will pay for it.”

I tried not to envision blood spurting from Raul’s hand as a finger was slowly severed, or think of the sound of his teeth grinding as he tried to keep from screaming until he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Like usual, my vivid imagination refused to protect me. It didn’t help that Raul was nearly prostrated on the ground a few feet from me, his breathing pained and expression furious. If I looked straight at him I’d lose my very tenuous composure, so I forced my gaze to stay on Maggot. “I’m persona non grata with the authorities,” I said, trying to keep my nausea at bay. “I wouldn’t go to them.”

“It’s always best to be sure. And let’s add a time limit on there too, shall we? Say, you return by midnight tonight or you won’t be returning at all, because I’ll take care of you myself. You’ll be taking along one of my little helpers.” His yellow eyes seemed to bore right through my skull. “Do you understand?”

I had to wear a maggot? I had to have one of those things creeping onto me, nestling behind my ear, and threatening me with an awful death while I tried to pull off a rush job on a secure building in less than half a day? The thought made my skin crawl, which seemed entirely too appropriate. But there was nothing I could say except, “I understand.”

“Good.” Maggot dug a finger beneath the collar of his shirt. He grimaced as he pressed in deeper, then grunted as he pulled out a fresh, wriggling maggot a bit smaller than Vibro’s. I hoped for one second that he might pass it to me himself, but he set it on the ground instead, and waved away Vibro when she moved to pick it up.

“Go on, then,” he murmured, and the tiny creature wriggled across the floor to me. I wanted to smash it but knew that would get me in even deeper trouble, so I held myself as still as I could while it climbed over the end of my shoe and up my body—outside my clothes, thank God. The feel of it on the bare skin of my neck was way worse, and I shuddered and gagged as it inched up my scalp, burying itself in my hair. It settled somewhere right on top of my head.

“I can feel it,” Maggot murmured. “Good, good. Welcome to the fold, Mr. Dinges. Daya, give him a care package and send him on his way.”

“Sure, boss.” She grabbed my arm and hoisted me to my feet. I jerked from her before she could drag me away, though.

“No, wait—Raul,” because I had to tell him, just in case. “I’ll be back, all right? I can do this, I’ll be back soon, and we’ll be fine.”

“Edward, it’s too late for me, you can’t—” Raul broke off with a grunt as Maggot hit him across the face again.

“No time for heartfelt speeches,” he said calmly. “Time’s running out, Mr. Dinges. Good luck. For both your sakes.”

And fuck him sideways, but I had the feeling I’d need it.

Say you’ve run a red light and hit another car. What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you find out someone’s hurt? Do you apologize? Do you acknowledge your mistake and call an ambulance? Do you fill out a police report like a responsible citizen and take your punishment, knowing it was deserved? That’s what society expects out of you, and ostensibly of all of us. If you hurt someone, you pay for it, monetarily and possibly judicially. It’s only fair, right?

Well, that’s how it works for you and me. Not for GenCorp. When they hurt someone, they go on a charm offensive, parading their past successes in front of you like a shield while they spread money around behind the scenes. Lawsuit? No, no, there’s no need for that sort of thing, and the affected families have already agreed to settle in the case of this terrible accident. Investigation? Our methods are the best; we test everything a bazillion times; here, admire all our awards! Faking our results? It’s an aberration, a bad apple, we would never, hey look over here at everything else that we’re working on!

Does anyone really think that this dog and pony show is a good corporate policy? Ask the families of the seven people who died last week.

Vibro took me to the apartment she shared with her brother, which was within spitting distance of #5 and surprisingly secure and well equipped. My care package took the form of a brief shower where I washed the worst of my day away—the soot and smoke and last few remnants of makeup. That was followed by a nondescript pair of jeans with enough pockets for my Chap stick tube and gemstones, a long-sleeved shirt that would cover the worst of the burns on my arms, a gauzy hipster-esque scarf, and an umbrella, since it seemed like it was going to rain. There was also a secondhand smartphone that could at least access the internet, and a thumb drive that Vibro handled like gold.

“Plug this into a computer in GenCorp’s main branch and it will automatically log in and download all the information on its hard drive. It cost an arm and a fucking leg, so be careful with it.”

I gazed blankly at the innocuous little blue drive. “Are you sure it’ll work?”

“It’s guaranteed. My contact has ways of breaking into the computer systems of every major corporation and government facility in Panopolis,” Vibro bragged. “Each one requires a different program, hence the price . . . And shit, you’re about to fall over, aren’t you.”

“I skipped breakfast,” I said numbly. “Lunch too.”

“You have to keep your blood sugar up,” Vibro told me as she left and rummaged through her fridge. She came back with a glass filled to the brim with pinkish sludge, handed it over, and crossed her arms. “Go on. It’s strawberry banana, it’s not going to kill you.”

I sipped unenthusiastically. The last time I’d had anything smoothie-like, it had been Freight Train’s Nutrigro sludge, which fell somewhere between vomit and mushroom tea in flavor. “Thanks.”

Vibro shook her head. “Don’t thank me. I’m just doing what I’m told.”

“Why?” I asked. She stared at me like I was stupid. “I mean, no, obviously you don’t want to die, but how has Maggot even gotten this far? Why isn’t anyone challenging him?”

“Oh, he’s been challenged,” Vibro replied. “You wonder why Mother Monster’s been out of the news lately? Maggot’s doing. He poisoned every one of her children and then he got her, all in a single night. His little helpers can move fast when they’re mature. He’s on the ropes right now because he spent the last six months breaking off enough of himself to create an army of us. That’s tiring work. And why not get him while he’s down?” She shrugged. “Fear, mostly. A lot of us carry his maggots. Even if someone kills him, what happens to the parasites when he dies? Death throes? Biting their hosts as they go? It’s not worth finding out, not when he’s trying to make things better.”

She couldn’t be serious. “You think that’s what he’s doing? By enslaving you guys, by threatening you every second, by kidnapping people?” I couldn’t keep my mind off Raul, left at the mercy of people who had none, vulnerable and relying on me, me, to save him. It was a bitter thought, and the bitterness seeped into my expression as I glared at Vibro.

She met my gaze. “He’s the best of a bad deal, Edward. No one else is going to help me or my brother, I know that much. I can’t even get a normal job, much less go back to school or get a loan for a car. I definitely think Maggot’s going to do more for us than the fuck-heads in the Abattoir ever did. And you’ve already wasted an hour, so you better get going.”

“Will you be watching me?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I’d rather you were watching Raul.”

“It’s not about what you want,” Vibro said, but she sounded less businesslike and more sympathetic now. “Not for any of us. You do what you need to survive, okay?”