First (16 page)

Read First Online

Authors: Chanda Stafford

BOOK: First
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As we turn the corner to my room, I see Bullfrog speaking rapidly into his wrist band. When he hears our footsteps, he whirls around, weapon drawn.

“Where the hell have you been?” he shouts, glaring at us before holstering his Artos.

“Mira wants to go to lunch. When we left, you were not at your post.” Will leaves the accusation that Bullfrog was neglecting his duty unspoken.

He gets it, though. His face turns red, and he clenches his fists. “I had to go the bathroom.” He turns his attention to me. “Can’t you stay put for one goddamn minute?”

I start to shrink until I feel Will’s fingers thread with mine. He squeezes my hand. Stiffening my shoulders, I look straight into my guard’s eyes. “It’s not my job to protect me, is it? Seems to me you should have been here.”

His hand tightens on his weapon once again. “Get the hell back in your room. I can’t protect you if you go wandering all over kingdom come.”

I shake my head. “No. I want to go with Will for lunch.”

“I said”—his voice lowers into a bear-like grumble—“get. Back. In. Your. Room.”

I take a deep breath. “No.” I turn and walk away, pulling a shocked Will behind me.

“You get me fired, girl, and I’ll kill you myself!” Bullfrog shouts from behind us, and his words chill me, but I can’t stop moving. Can’t stop walking or I might collapse. I might stop going and never get up again.

Will and I stop at one of the service elevators. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nod. “What did he mean when he said he’d kill me first?”

Will blinks, his long lashes covering his eyes before opening them again after a heavy minute. “Nothing.” He pauses. “I think he was just being a jerk.” He’s hiding something. I know it. “Would you like to file a report?”

The thought of actually getting Bullfrog in trouble almost makes it worth it. “No, it’s not that important.” Will looks like he’s going to say something more, but then shakes his head, minutely, and decides against it. “Let’s just go.” He raises his eyebrows. “If that’s all right with you, I mean.”

Will scans his wrist tattoo, and we wait for the door to slide open. “Of course.” His normally blank expression softens, and he smiles, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

I flush and look away.

“But just so you know, it may get a little strained down here.”

“How so?” I glance up at him in alarm.

“The people down there aren’t like you. Or rather, you’re not like them. They’re not the family you lost. Your friends. Your Tanner. You’re Absolved now, not a servant like us.” His words are cruel, even though he says them as kindly as possible, and they cut me. But he’s right.

“Maybe we should go back.”

“Is that what you want? I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Is he trying to get me to change my mind?

I shake my head, thinking of the walls in my room, the loneliness.
Anything has to be better than that.
“No. Let’s go.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” The door slides open, and we enter. “The cafeteria is down two floors. The service elevator will get us there faster.”

“They have an elevator just for the servants?”

“Of course.” He looks surprised. “You expect the President to ride in the same car as the person who cleans his toilet?”

“No, I guess not.”

We get into the elevator, which is smaller than the other one, and with a couple of shakes, it starts down. It stops on a floor where the bright white lights glow harshly, making everything look dingy and old.

We pass several doors and come to a large double set propped open to reveal an enormous open area with rows of tables. The place is filled with people.
Just like home.

He stops abruptly, and I run into him. “Sorry,” I mumble.

He turns to me, gently taking my elbow. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you change your mind.”

“I’m okay.” I take a deep breath and look around. “It kind of reminds me of home.”

“But it’s not.” I shake my head, recognizing that fact. “Look, before we go in, I want to warn—”

“Will?” A shapely brunette who looks about six months pregnant walks up to us. “What are you doing down here? Who is this?” She touches his arm with a familiarity that makes jealousy course through me. Then shame. Who is she to him? His wife, judging by the baby bump? His girlfriend? Maybe they don’t have strict rules here regarding abstinence and boy-girl relations the way we do at the farm.

He jerks out from under her touch and looks at me, then back at her. “Evie, this is Mira.”

The people at the nearest table stop talking and stare at us. Like a wave it spreads, until I’m sure just about everyone is watching.

“The Second?”

“Yes.”

She curls her lip a little, as if smelling a dead animal rotted and bloated in the sun. “Why’d you bring
her
down here?”

My face grows hot, and I feel my shoulders stiffen.

“She wants to eat with us.”

“Why? She’s not one of us. She’s one of
them
. She needs to stay up there with her own kind.” She looks me up and down, taking in my choppy mouse-brown hair and wrinkled clothes. I can almost imagine she sees inside my head.
Why did I think this was a good idea again?

Will shrugs. “She’s different.”

“So what?” She gets close to him, jabbing her finger in his chest. “You’re just going to bring her down here?
Flaunt
her in front of everyone?”

What is she talking about? I’m not a prize or anything.

Will pushes her finger away. A guilty look flashes across his face. “Stop it, Evie. Don’t make a scene. You know this is my job.”

“Yes, and you’re
so
good at it, too,” she sneers.

I push myself in front of him. “What’s your problem? We just came down here to eat.”

“Stay out of it, dead girl,” Evie snarls, leaning toward me.

I clench my fists. “Get out of my face.”

She shoots a sharp glance from Will to me. Her face is red, and her muscles tense as if she’s going to hit me.
Bring it.
Then, she seems to remember where she is and tosses her thick shiny hair over her shoulder and rests one hand on her protruding belly.

“You know what? You’re not worth it.” She smirks. “You’re just a job to him. At night, he comes home to—”

“Evie, please,” Will interrupts, his face going pale. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She huffs. “Fine. But I can’t believe you brought her down here.” She stalks out of the cafeteria.

After taking a deep breath, Will turns to me and touches my arm in apology. “I’m sorry. I should have known she’d be down here.”

“Is she your wife?” He shakes his head. “Girlfriend?”

“No, just… a friend.”
Like Tanner was
just
my friend?
“Look, just ignore her. It’s nothing personal, honest. After she found out she was pregnant and left her husband, she’s been looking for someone to help raise her kid.” Will guides me toward the long line that stretches up to the people serving food.

“So she picked you?”

He lifts his shoulders and drops them, casually, as if it doesn’t bother him. “I suppose that’s one way to put it. It doesn’t matter, though. None of it affects you.”

As we reach the end of the line, talk resumes around us.

“I’m nothing like those people, the Firsts, or anyone else for that matter.”

Will holds up his hands. “Don’t get mad at me. I agree with you. It’s just that
I
might be the only one who sees you that way.”

I nibble on my bottom lip and look down. “Maybe you were right. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I think it’s amazing you wanted to eat with us. I’ve never seen anything like it. The last time someone from up there came down here was to buy a few extra servants for the vice president’s mansion. It was awful, kind of like your lineup. They checked our teeth, asked us questions, had us do jumping jacks and pushups, and even looked at our grades in school.” He grimaces.

“That’s terrible.”

“No Second has ever come down to eat with us. Of course, they’re going to be shocked.”

“Well, what should we do?”

Will smiles, a quick, bold flash of white teeth. “I say we eat.” The line starts moving, and in a few minutes, we’re at the front.

Will hands me a tray with a chipped white bowl, some silverware, a cup, and a napkin. The cook slops a brownish-gray scoop of something into the bowl without even looking at me. Little multicolored chunks slowly rise to the surface.

“Is that supposed to be soup?” I ask, sloshing the brownish liquid around its bowl. My stomach rumbles, but I don’t know if I could even take a bite. We had better food at the farms. This stuff looks just awful.

He grins. “I warned you, remember? Only the finest cuisine here at the Smith.”

We find an empty table near the back, and Will smiles at a few people as we pass. I pick through my food.
Maybe
this
was
a mistake. I should never have come down here.
In my mind, I keep seeing Evie’s hand on Will’s arm, her possessiveness, her obvious familiarity.
What did she mean when she said that at night he comes home… to her? If he hadn’t interrupted her, what would she have said?
Should I trust him? Maybe he’s telling the truth, that they’re nothing, and she’s only trying to get him to help look after her baby when it’s born. Will’s been straight with me so far, right?
I look up at him and catch him watching me.

He takes my trembling hand in his across the table. “It’s okay, Mira. It’s all right.”

I chew on my bottom lip.

At the table next to us, conversation picks up as a plump man with sweat-slicked black hair sits down. “Finally finished the expansion to the President’s library,” he says as he spoons a bite of soup into his mouth. “Though I don’t see why they didn’t just add another level to the top. He didn’t have to take away our quarters.”

An older, thin white-haired man pats him on the back. “You know how it is. Why add to the top when they can take room away from us? Not like we need it, right?”

The other three men at the table grumble in agreement, then start gossiping about who’s working hard and what they’re doing, who’s pulled one over on his supervisor, and who’s getting a little extra on the side. Honestly, they’re worse than the older women at the farm, complaining like a bunch of chickens.

As we finish eating, a burly man, clearly agitated, stomps over to us. “Evie told me you brought her down here.” He growls at Will, pointing at me.

A hush falls over the cafeteria.

Will leans back and looks up at the man. “Nice to see you, too, Gregory.”

“I didn’t believe her. I said even
you
wouldn’t be that stupid.” His feet are spread wide apart, and his hands are in rock-hard fists at his sides.

“It’s not against the law. She can go wherever she wants.”

“I don’t care. She don’t belong here. What if
he
sent her? Ever think of that?” He points at the ceiling.

“Who?”

“The Firsts, the President. I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“Stop being an idiot. No one sent her. She wanted to come down here herself.” Once again, the voices around us quiet.

“Don’t we have any place that’s free of
them
?” He leans menacingly forward.

Will jumps to his feet. “Back off. Mira’s not one of them. She was ripped out of her home, away from her family and everything she knows, just to be some old windbag’s next attempt at immortality.”
What’s he talking about?
“Cut her some slack.”

“Just how close are you two?” Gregory’s beady eyes scrutinize me, taking me apart inch by inch. “She’s kind of scrawny, but some guys like them like that.” My eyes widen, and I take a sharp breath. Did he really just say that?

“Leave her alone,” Will growls, his eyes narrowing.

“So that’s how it is.” He looks around at the audience the conversation has drawn. “Providing for her
every
need, eh?” He wiggles his bushy eyebrows.

Anger smolders to life, but I squash it down. This is no place to get into an argument. I jump to my feet. If Will and the others think I’m just going to sit back for this, they’re the idiots.

“Mira,” Will says in a warning tone as I step forward. “He’s not worth it.”

Thanks, Will. Thanks for your help. You’re a champ.

He touches my arm, stopping me. He’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. I can’t do this here. For some reason I think my punishment for misbehaving here would be far worse than a metal box with only three holes in the bottom for air and weak shafts of light. I take a deep breath and look Gregory up and down. “No, you’re right.” I shake my head. “He’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it? You spoiled brat! I’ll show you…” Gregory reaches out to grab my shoulder, but Will whirls between us, blocks Gregory’s arm, snakes out his leg, and hooks Gregory’s, kicking his foot out from under him. The larger man crashes to the floor.

“Don’t touch her,” he snarls. Then Will piles his tray on top of mine, picks up both of them, takes me firmly by the elbow, and leads me to a large window where people collect them. “We should go back to your room.” Will flashes me a sardonic smile after depositing our trays.

I nod, feeling kind of numb. In my mind, I keep seeing Will drop Gregory to the ground. That’s not how a part-time gardener should act. Who would he need to use those moves on, the plants?

At the elevator, Will turns to me. “Mira, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know any of that would happen. Gregory, he’s just… he’s got a short fuse, that’s all.” He runs his hand over his short-cropped hair.

“It’s not your fault. Why do they hate me? I didn’t do anything to them.” My anger rapidly fades away to sadness and exhaustion.

“They don’t hate
you
, as a person. It’s because you’re Absolved. You’re above us all, and they’re afraid that they might slip up, say something, and get reported. You’re about as close to free as any of us could ever get.” His gaze flits away, and I get the feeling there’s something he’s not telling me.

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