The Blood Racer (The Blood Racer Trilogy Book 1) (10 page)

              “I have orders,” Zanna said, turning away from me. “People are expecting me to make stuff for them. Like Rigel and his tomato soup.”
              “He buys that from you twice a week!” I said, my voice growing louder. “He’ll be fine. Zan, all the money you could make from that stuff…you could make now, in a single day! What’s the problem? Come on, I’ll help you carry them out-”
              “No!” Zanna shouted, rounding on me angrily. “I’m not taking anything to the docks, okay!?”
              Beside us, Echo calmly set down his chalk and stood up. Without a word, he walked into the room he shared with Zanna and closed the door. It wasn’t odd to see Zanna and me arguing, and he had learned to simply leave the room and pretend it wasn’t happening.
              “We need that money!” I shouted at my sister. “That’s why you sell that stuff, remember? To earn money!”
              “Says the girl that went out and bought a fancy pair of goggles!” Her face was so angry that I had to immediately defend myself.
              “Hey, these were a gift from Mr. Nichols. I did not buy them, all right?” I stared down at her, noting the slight trembling in her jaw, the whiteness of her clenched knuckles. There was something really bothering her. “What aren’t you telling me?” I demanded.
              With a growl that surprised me in its ferocity, she turned away and strode toward the sink. “Nothing! Just go. Go out and go flying. That’s what you want to do anyway, so you can get away from us.”
              I was floored. How could such a pleasant moment between us have turned so ugly so fast? “I don’t…that is
not
why I-” I couldn’t even articulate my thoughts. I was so bad at this. She didn’t really feel that way, did she? How could she? With all the work I did to keep us alive, how could she think that I enjoyed abandoning them? I was angered and insulted.
              “Do you understand what I do?” I said to her. “Do you understand that I go to work every day so that we can survive? So that you and Echo have a place to live and food to eat! Do you not like those things? Because I do! I fly so that I can take care of you!”
              “And you never let me forget it, do you!?” she cried, still keeping her back to me. “How do you think that makes me feel!? To know that I’m such a…such a burden on you. Tell me, Elana…how
should
I feel?”
              My anger was threatening to boil over. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was wrong…or because she was partially right. Either way, she was trying to turn the argument around on me, and I wanted to know why. There was still something she wasn’t telling me.
              “Zanna,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady, “what’s really going on here? It would be easy to sell your vegetables. We could really use that money. You said you wanted to open your own restaurant, right? Those tokens could go toward-”
              “I just can’t…” she muttered. She had turned to me once again, her eyes flooded with tears.
              I took a tentative step toward her. “Why not?”
              “Because it’s dying!” she screamed, her voice shrill and piercing. I was sure everyone this side of the plant could hear us now. “The cucumbers, the corn, the onions and peppers, even the soybeans…they’re all failing! It’s the only thing I have left of her, and it’s dying!”
              A sob made its way past her lips and she buried her face in her hands. I knew who she was talking about, of course. Our mother. She had been the one to start the garden, and Zanna had been tending it ever since. I stayed away from it, to be honest. I hated the sting I felt every time I looked inside and didn’t see my mother. Zanna was brave, in that way. She took over, tilling and seeding, pruning and picking. I had no idea it had been slowly dying, though. How demoralizing it was that I had developed a habit of keeping things from my sister so that she wouldn’t worry…only to have her pick up the exact same habit. She had been hiding it from me, so that I would have one less thing on my mind.
              I sighed, feeling pangs of guilt rippling through me. I couldn’t think of any words that seemed right, so I just walked toward her, intent on wrapping my arms around her. It was the closest thing to comfort that I could bring her. Before I reached her, though, she suddenly sprinted for her bedroom and slammed the door behind her, leaving me alone to stare after her. Through the thin walls, I could hear Echo muttering things, probably trying to stop her tears. If I wasn’t so emotionally clumsy, I might try to walk in there and make things right. As it was, I had no idea how to do that.
              I pulled off my helmet and scratched my head, dropping it on the ground. My jacket was next. I just wanted to lie down in my bed and pretend my sister wasn’t furious with me. Even with my own door closed, I could still hear the faint sounds of Zanna sobbing. They stopped after a short while, though. And just a bit after that, I heard her laughing with Echo. I was glad that she had him. Or that they had each other, actually. It seemed I wasn’t much good to either of them.
              For the rest of the day, I was practically comatose. I curled up on my mattress and waited for sleep to take me. It seemed to refuse, though. It took hours. At some point in the late evening, I heard Zanna and Echo tooling around the main room. I heard her busy at the sink and the fireplace, cooking up something for them to eat. I wasn’t particularly hungry, and I wasn’t ready for another fight, so I stayed put.
            Later, after the two of them had gone to bed, I crept out to the now darkened main room for a drink of water. There, on the edge of the sink, was a small plate of potatoes and broccoli that Zanna had left for me. The butter sauce had congealed, as it had sat there so long, but I took it anyway, wiping away tears as I ate.
              Finally, with a full belly and a heavy heart, I fell into a restless sleep.

                            “Elana, wake up!”
              My eyes shot open at the sensation of someone slapping the side of my head. I yelled in surprise more than pain - but it did hurt - and I rose to a sitting position with a scowl on my face. My cropped hair felt stiff on top of my head, and I ran my fingers through it as I searched for my attacker.
              Zanna was the culprit…of course. She was standing at the side of my bed, holding my jacket, helmet, and my new goggles. Echo was beside her, giggling at my reaction. Both of them had messy hair and cloth creases on their cheeks. The looked like they had just rolled out of bed a minute before waking me.
              “Get up!” Zanna urged, thrusting my gear at me. “The race is gonna start soon! You’re gonna be late!”
              At once, I threw back my ratty blanket and scooted off the bed, trying to blink away my bleariness. I had already pulled my pants and shirt on, and was in the process of sliding my feet into socks and boots when I froze, looking up at my sister.
              “Wait a minute,” I grumbled. “I don’t want to join the race. Why did you wake me up like that?”
              Zanna shoved my jacket and helmet at me again. “You need to go! Quick, put these on!”
              Still not sure what I was doing, or what had possessed my sister, I pulled on the cracked leather jacket and the worn helmet. “Did you hear what I said? I’m not joining that stupid-”
              “Hurry! They’re waiting for you!” She was pushing me now, shoving me toward the door. Her blue eyes, so similar to my own, were fiery, something I rarely saw from her. That alone was enough to disintegrate whatever resolve I had, and I stopped resisting her. With a confused look still smeared on my face, I let her push me into the door.
              “What are you doing?” I asked her, putting extra emphasis into my words. “Why are you being-”
              “Stop talking and go!” she hissed. “You can still make it if you hurry!”
              “Go, Sissy! Go, go!” Echo chanted, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.
              Zanna reached past me and flung the door open, letting the cool morning light stream into our home. “You have to, Elana,” she said. Her voice was deeper, more sincere, and she sounded so much older than thirteen. “You
need
to go.
We
need you to go.”
              She wasn’t pushing me anymore. She wasn’t demanding that I leave. She was asking me, practically pleading with me. I wondered if it had something to do with our argument the night before. Did she want me gone? She knew as well as I did what kind of terrible things could happen in the race. Why was she insisting that I enter? There was a tear in her eye as she slowly closed the door on me.
              “Copy,” was all I could say to her. “I…I love you.”
              “Good luck,” she replied, managing a small smile.
              The door closed with a loose click and I turned away from it, bolting toward Nichols’ shop. If I was going to enter the race, I needed to let him know. Of course, from the way he’d talked to me the day before, he probably already knew.
              I sprinted past the plant, dodging the workers that were changing shifts, and hit the causeway, pumping my arms and legs as hard as they would go. As I went, I drew several shouts from citizens, sounding almost like encouragement. It seemed like everyone had expected me to enter all along. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
           
What
am
I doing
? I asked myself as I bolted across the causeway.
              I powered through town, slipping through the alleyways and narrow cubby holes to save time. I had grown up running around these ducts and alleys, sliding down drainage tunnels and sneaking across rooftops. I knew them like the back of my hand. Rigel and I would play games of hide and seek for hours, navigating every nook and cranny of our city. Even Zanna used to join in. Now, as I dashed across the tin roof of Joe Pipkin’s sweet shop and leaped over a snoozing Mr. Dormeur, I was glad that I had spent so much time learning those shortcuts. I made it to Nichols’ in fantastic time, and burst through the door, panting and huffing.
              He was already there to greet me. “Child, I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
              “I…was…” I stammered. I didn’t have any words to explain myself. None at all.
              He stepped forward, holding an old metal box in his hands. As I stared at it, he held it out for me and opened the lid. “Here.”
              My eyes went wide at the sight of the gun inside, as it was definitely a wonder to behold. It was a revolver, matte grey finish, leather wrapped grips, and a brass-fluted cylinder that looked to hold nine shots. Aside from the cylinder, several other small rivet points were made of brass, all of which nicely accented the grey finish. It wasn’t just a gun, it was almost like a piece of art.
              “Holy foxtrot,” I whispered. “Did you make this?”
              Nichols gave me a nod. “Yes. I want you to take it with you.”
              I looked up at him in confusion. Everyone knew that weapons were outlawed in the Dominion. Only official guards could carry them. They were
especially
forbidden in the race. Any kind of tactical advantage was supposed to be eliminated. If you were caught with a weapon, you’d be disqualified and jailed immediately. I had never even known anybody that had one. How long had Nichols been working on this? Surely it wasn’t the kind of thing one slapped together overnight. He was must been planning it for some time.
            “I’d much rather you not need it, but if you do, I want you to have it,” he said, putting my mind at ease.
              “Thank you,” I breathed, gingerly taking the gun in my hands. Did I really want to take this with me?
              From behind him, he produced a dark brown leather belt and holster. “This goes with it,” he said. “And this.”
              Without giving me time to fasten the holster around me, he dropped a large, heavy tin of ammunition into my arms. I groaned and huffed a breath. It was heavier than I thought it would be. It must have had two hundred bullets in it.
              “I’m not going to war!” I protested. It was bad enough that he wanted to give me a gun, especially after he had tried so hard to convince me that I didn’t need to be a killer to join the race.
              Nichols only smiled, helping me to get the holster on. He cinched the belt around my waist and dropped the pistol into its rightful place. “Quickly now. No time to waste. Get to the docks, and get to Rainier. And be careful!”
              I took a step back toward the door and then stopped, looking up at his bearded face. “What am I doing?” I asked.
              He smiled sympathetically, closing the gap between us. With his hands on both my shoulders, his grey eyes locked onto mine. “What you were born to do, my dear. It’s in your blood. Now go.”
              He stared into me with a paralyzing conviction, forcing his words into my mind, and I couldn’t help but absorb them. For a moment, I thought I could see the passionate young man that he had once been. In that moment, I wished that I had known him back then, before age and wisdom slid over him like an unseen shell. For this brief second, he wasn’t my boss, he wasn’t a surrogate father, he was speaking to me like an equal.
              I opened my mouth to reply, but for some reason, it felt like words would only diminish the moment. Instead, I blinked twice and turned toward the door, shouldering my way through it and back onto the street. The docks were only a minute from here, and I needed to get there to see Rigel. I needed to tell him where I was going…assuming he didn’t already know like everyone else.
              I emerged into the docks, which were much quieter today, and made a turn for cradle number eleven, where the
Cloud Kicker
sat waiting for me.
              “Toby!” I called breathlessly as I ran up to the cradle.
              Rigel’s friend and coworker, and also a boy I knew reasonably well, Toby spun around at the sound of his name. His brown eyes fell upon me and his lips turned to a frown. “He knew you’d be here,” Toby said, reaching into his back pocket. “He wanted me to give you this.”
              From behind him, he pulled a thin white envelope, folded from a single piece of parchment. It had my name scrawled on the front of it in Rigel’s unmistakably jagged handwriting. I shifted the ammunition around in my arms and took the envelope from Toby.
              I looked up at him. “Where is he? And what is this?”
              He shrugged his hunched shoulders. “Probably trying to convince you to not join the race. He seemed pretty serious about it.”
              “Where is he? I really need to talk to him!” I asked, feeling a nervous sweat on my forehead.
              Toby slipped on his thick leather work gloves as he thought. “He said he had to go take care of               something. But he did know that you would show up here looking for him, and he wanted me to make sure you read that.” He pointed to the envelope in my hands.
              I glared at him skeptically. “So you have no idea where he went?”
              Toby held up his hands as if it would prove him innocent of Rigel’s transgression. “Hey, he just said there was something he needed to do. He said in case he doesn’t get back, to make sure you read that letter.”
              I sighed and spun around in a circle, searching for a sign of dirty blonde hair amongst the citizens. Where could he have gone? To the bathroom? Maybe. Not sure why he would need to leave a ‘don’t-enter-the-race’ letter for that, though. Had he gone to watch the race himself? No, he wouldn’t take off work just to do that. He was at least
that
responsible. Besides, he didn’t have a ship with which to get to Rainier. I had no idea. It didn’t really matter what he was doing. When I returned, I would be sure to punch him for not being here to see me off.
              I sighed, relenting to the circumstances. “Fine. Can you prep my ship for takeoff, please?”
              Toby shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well…he was pretty clear that you shouldn’t go. If you’d just read the-”
              “Toby,” I said firmly. “I’m in a hurry. Prep my ship. Please.”
              He pursed his lips and his eyes flitted down to the handle of the gun that was hanging off my hip. He swallowed and let out a slow sigh. I could tell there was a lot he wanted to say back to me, but he just cracked his knuckles and settled for, “Copy that. Wilco.”
              I followed him onto the cradle and popped open the hatch on the side of my ship. The metal gave a shrill squeal, as it always did, and I stepped inside. Underneath my center console, there was a hidden compartment that I kept personal things in. The edges of it lined up perfectly with the grooves in the metal, and it was underneath the maintenance space, so it was completely undetectable. There was nothing in there at the moment, so I figured it for a perfect place to store the gun and ammunition. The only other people who knew about it were Rigel, Nichols, and Zanna, so I knew it would be safe.
            After stowing the gun, I powered up the engine, sliding on my helmet and shiny new goggles. After jacking in the radio cord, I clicked the microphone in my chinstrap.
              “Jack, do you read?”
              There was a slight pause. “Five by five, Elana,” he said with a chuckle. “Wondering when I’d be clearing you.”
              I gave an exasperated chuckle. “You and everyone else, I guess.”
              From beneath me, I could hear Toby removing the cables that held my ship in place. I gave him a few seconds to get clear before I fired up my turbines.
              “You’d better get movin’, girl,” Jack urged.
              I absentmindedly held up my thumb, hoping he could see it before I lifted off. In front of me, I saw Toby making a hasty retreat back to the docks, shielding his eyes from the downdraft of my turbines. Without even a wave, I spun my ship around and powered up my main engine, launching myself forward as I switched off the turbines. Immediately, I maxed out the throttle and hit my top speed, powering away from Adams as fast as I could. I didn’t want to use my hydro thrusters, though. Not yet. I knew I would surely need them later.
              The trip to Rainier seemed to take twice as long as usual. I flew high to catch a tailwind, but my nerves still made it seem like an eternity. I kept imagining that I’d see the race beginning, a mass of ships pushing out from Rainier, but I didn’t. Even as I approached, I could see them all massing at the docks, along with a crowd of onlookers that rivaled the entire population of Adams.
              I clicked my microphone as I approached. “Rainier control, this is the
Cloud Kicker
. I am on final approach. I’m…here to join the race.”
              It was a long, tense minute before anyone came back to me. When a man finally answered, his voice came across as intensely stressed, and I could hear a lot of other traffic controllers speaking hurriedly in the background. “We copy you,
Cloud Kicker
. You’re cleared for cradle fifty four.”
              Fifty four? I knew Rainier always had a lot of empty spaces, but even on the busiest days, I never had to dock any further than cradle eighteen or twenty. This was no ordinary day, though. This was Race Day. And I was late. In addition to all the contestants, there were plenty of shuttles and personal craft loaded with people who had come to watch the event kick off.