Gods Under The Dome

14.2

《Fight》

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The corpse, because that is what I've made this boy, falls to the ground. Blood dribbles down his chin, and if it'd been drool and his eyes hadn't been frozen open with that persistent gaze of terror, he could have passed for sleeping. A boy his age should have been sleeping. In this day and age though, there's no time to think what could have been. It's only what is and what needs doing.

With that in mind, I start to strip the body. Marava's hand constricts around my arm. "What are you doing?"

I yank free. Lift the boy's shirt over his head, careful not to touch the fabric to his lips and smear the uniform with blood. Believability would be key.

Even though it wouldn't appear on the black uniform, guards stationed at the chip ports might be able to smell it and the scans would surely pick up on it. Now more than ever, we needed to be careful.

My fingers undo the boy's belt buckle. Marava asks her question again, this time though she's blushing and it reminds me of a blistering copper kettle, kept over the fire until the bottom gleamed red-hot.

I toss the pants and shirt over my shoulder. Marava fumbles to catch them in her arms. Uncaring of the speculation in her eyes - that I've become more of a mad person than she'd already taken me for - I move to the next El Accosta and begin undressing him.

"Put that on," I say, as I tug one of the man's beefy arms free of the sleeve. "We don't have much time."

Quint's hand lands on my shoulder. "Ten, are you--"

"If you're recovered enough to provide unwanted commentary, then you can start on that one." I point at the third body. "We'll all need uniforms."

Marava pushes her head back as the shirt slips over her nose. It sags at the collar and the sleeves hang below her knuckles. Still, if she sat up straight enough, owned this look like she had the grey Liar uniform, we might be able to squeeze past the check points and get out of this sect.

"Tuck the shirt in," I say, and then, tugging at the Accosta's pant leg, I add, "I need you to bring all that Marava-brand confidence to the forefront. Own that outfit."

Quint struggles to sit. "What are going on about?"

"We're El Accosta from this point on. We'll pick up Tujo and Rima. Pretend they're our hostages," I throw the black longsleeve on over my tee. Standing, I shove my legs into pants three sizes too big. I motion toward Marava. "Get the shoes, too." There's no grimace on her face from being told, by me, what to do. Instead, she's uncharacteristically conformist and quiet. Somewhere in that crazy psyche of hers, it must have clicked how truly screwed we all are.

"And then what?"

"Then?" I buckle the belt on its last hole, hoping it'll be tight enough to hold the pants up. God knew my lack of hips wasn't going to help. "We drive through the chip port, hope Izzer is truly as great with fakes as he thinks he is and get back to HQ."

Both Marava and Quint's eyes go wide. "You think it'll work?"

I shrug and the chip at the back of my neck shifts. I reach up, graze the corner. "Don't know. But for all Izzer's bravado and self-assuredness," I frown. "And all those hours spent in that chair listening to him hum while he dissected me, it better not be for nothing." I move my fingers from my neck, to behind my ear. Press down on the dot, hold it for three seconds. The comm crackles to life.

While the others get changed, I grab the van keys from the El Accosta and make for the driver's seat. I'd seen it done - the act of driving. It didn't seem hard - one foot on the gas, one ready to press on the brake, steering wheel for direction. If anything, the archival vids made driving seem fun, exhilarating. The only time I'd ridden in one had been out of a need to escape or to be smuggled in. And there would be nothing fun or exhilarating about what I was going to do next which was, almost certainly, driving to my death.

"Te-ten?" a voice cuts through the static. "Ten? Is that you?"

"Rima?" I say, opening the car door and sliding behind the wheel. The sensation of worn leather, calloused and hard, graced my fingertips as I ran them over the wheel. The vehicle's bucket seat, with its non-existing padding, made me feel like I was sitting on a cement block. Tapping my toe against the two pedals nestled on the floor, I tried to recall which was which. Driving had never been a part of Facility Curriculum. For a place that prided its own thoroughness and ability to enlighten, they'd sure made us blind to a lot of things. "Rima, is Tujo with you? Are you two safe?"

There's a huff on the other end of the comm, and a pause, but eventually I get a response. "Yeah, we're fine. I think they stopped chasing us."

I slump back into the seat. The door opposite me creaks open. Marava, shoulder around Quint, helps him into the seat. He's the only one of us who looks suited for the El Accosta all-black fatigues.

"That's great," I grab Quint's arm, help pull him in. He winces at my touch, but smiles wearily anyway. "Where are you?"

Silence. "Rima?" More silence. I claw the steering wheel, run my nails along the covering, gouging the leather.

Finally, the comm crackles. "Near Atrius Apartments - Block 2."

I nod and stick the key into the car's ignition. Quint clicks his seatbelt into place. He blinks a few times, and shakes his head.

"You okay?"

"I will be. Isn't that the popular saying these days?" He nods at me, bringing attention to the fact I'm more bruises than human being.

Gripping the steering wheel, I flash Quint a quick grin. "Tujo? Lilly? We're on our way. Stay put." I hold the dot down, turn off the comm.

Quint looks at me, at the key in my fingers and grimaces. "You know how to drive?"

I turn the key and the van roars to life. Marava hops in the back and leans forward, her head peeking through the gap between the driver and passenger seats. "I was about to ask the same thing."

I put the car in drive. "While I appreciate your skepticism most of the time," Taking my foot off the brake, the car shoots forward. I slam my foot back down and we jerk to a stop. Quint's head almost bounces off the dash. Marava glares. I smile, and this time, slowly release the gas pedal. "What I could use most at this critical juncture is a vote of confidence."

Marava snorts. "There's no way that's happening."

The car pulls forward and I steady my hands on the wheel, positioning the car straight. We inch forward along the single road.

"You did help save Quint," she says. My mouth hangs open and Marava's frowns. "You don't always need to look about to drool whenever I say something that isn't condemning."

I lean into Quint. "Is this really Marava?"

"Eyes on the road, Ten," he responds, teeth clenched, back stiff, hands clenching the dashboard, knuckles bone-white.

"I still think you're more liable to get us killed," Marava continues. "But, let's chalk it up to luck, and say you have your moments."

My mouth snaps shut. The corners of my lips peel upward, a tiny, tiny bit. I'll never admit Marava's words had anything to do with it though. Her compliment, true to her nature, was pretty unflattering and backhanded. Still, it was nice to hear.

"Well," I say, daring to press on the gas. "Let's hope I still have some luck left, collect Tujo and Lilly and get the hell out of here. Quint?"

His neck turns toward me, in slow, abbreviated movements. "What?"

"Jump on the Network. Find Atrius Apartments - Block 2."

Black particles begin to form a thick line over his eyes at once as his finger touches the dot. Before he disappears into the viral world, he manages to say, "Try not to kill us, in the interim."

I chuckle. "Who are you kidding? If anything, all I do is save your asses." Marava clicks her tongue. "Correction, save all your asses sometimes with the assistance of Swaddler Supreme over there."

She snarls.

"Turn right," Quint calls, his voice distant.

I do as I'm instructed, heading toward Lilly and Tujo, hoping beyond everything that I've still got enough luck in reserve to call upon. We'd need it.