Sister Cities

Part 99: Ekko

I'm sorry.

You're welcome.

I look out the window again, teeth clenched. The sun's setting. People are probably already collecting at the drop-off point, even though I warned them not to come until nightfall and to try to stagger their arrivals. I tasked a handful of addicts with spreading the rumor and there's no telling how it's morphed. For all I know, the enforcers have gotten wind and a squadron is waiting to catch me out as soon as I show up.

"I'm going," I say. Scar droops. "But after tonight..."

He brightens, ears perking.

"I'll work on it," I say. "I'll stop trying to be involved in everything. I know what you mean."

He exhales and hugs me one-armed. I exhale too.

"Who's your backup?" he asks.

"Jinx."

The hug ends abruptly. "What? Why?"

"We used to sneak around all the time as kids," I say. "We never got caught. It wasn't luck, either— we were synced. Like clockwork."

"You can sync with anyone."

"She's different. We grew up together."

Scar goes back to scratching lines into his desk. "Fine. Who else?"

"Nobody else. We work best alone."

He stares me down. I tolerate it. He picks up his budgeting planner and a quill.

"Fine," he says, even more reluctant now. "Comm me if you get into trouble. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks."

I drag my feet to Vi and Jinx's treehouse. In reality, Jinx is the last person I want to bring on this operation— the reason I haven't asked her yet is because I've been praying some other option will come up. But what I told Scar is true: me and her have the best chance of succeeding without getting spotted, caught, or killed, so I knock on their door.

Jinx opens it with a bored expression that turns horrified as soon as she recognizes me, then smooths back into boredom. "Yeah?" she says.

"Can I come in?"

She's stuffed in the small open space, blocking my path. "Why?"

"Let him in," says Vi from somewhere out of view. Jinx huffs and steps out of the way. I follow her inside, closing the door and leaning on it while she backs away to stand in front of her worktable at the other end of the room.

"You guys fighting or something?" Vi asks. She's in the middle of her cot with an upside-down clipboard on her lap and a pen behind her ear.

"No," me and Jinx say in unison. Our eyes meet for a split second, her alarm mirroring mine, before I quickly flick mine to a green bar light attached to the wall. The two of them hauled in a bunch of equipment and decor from God-knows-where the other day and it's taken over the treehouse like a fungal growth of neon.

"Right," says Vi, unconvinced. Neither of us try to persuade her. Better that she thinks we're fighting than that she finds out what we really did. "What's up, then?"

"I need Jinx to come with me on the mission."

Jinx's lips part in surprise. I try not to perceive it. I don't want to have any thoughts about her lips, however objective.

Vi echoes Scar: "What? Why?"

"Best shot at success."

I don't have to argue my case beyond that for them. They remember where it comes from.