The Burn Zone (42 page)

“
Biology.
”

“
Whatever.
”

I shrugged him away and stomped down the hallway. The apartment doors were crowded together almost like lockers and as we passed by each, I could hear activity in some of them, TVs, radios, snoring, and talking. Number
9112 was down near the end of the hall on the right, a TV blaring behind it.

I knocked on the door. No one answered. I knocked again, harder this time. When still no one answered, I tried the knob, but it was locked.

Nix stepped closer to the door, moving me gently to one side, and put one hand on its surface beneath the spy hole. He moved his face close to it.

“
Someone is inside,
”
he said.

His chest
expanded,
his suit ruffling as he drew air in and then vented it with his quiet rattle. The mites delivered an anxious tingle.

“
Someone has died,
”
he said.

“
Move, I
’
ll kick it in,
”
Vamp said.

“
You
’
re not going to be able to kick it in, Vamp,
”
I said.
“
We
’
ll get the super, just—
”

The door unlatched, and then opened. Standing in the doorway was a little girl, the same girl from the wet drive recording. She was wearing slightly oversized pajamas, like they had belonged to someone else once. She looked up at us, her eyes wide, as she held the door open.

“
Hey,
”
I said. I tried to sound soothing, but she was looking at the scrapes on my face and shoulders with unease.
“
Hi there.
”

She didn
’
t say anything. Over the TV I heard the buzzing of flies. I looked past her and saw a small cloud of them swarming around a sofa that faced a
small TV set, perched on a wooden crate in front of a small window. It was showing some news program, the announcer yakking on about the festival while cameras showed different floats being built. There was a door inside on the left, and two on the right, one closed and the other an open doorway.

“
Can we come in?
”
I asked the girl. She looked to Nix, then back at me and nodded.

I moved past her and stepped into the living room. Inside, a faint stink lingered in the air and I waved the air in
front of my face as I looked over the back of the sofa. Blankets were piled over it as if someone had been sleeping there, and what looked like dried blood had spotted the edge of one. I tapped the TV
’
s contact and switched it off.

“
Are you alone here?
”
I asked her. She glanced toward the closed door on the right and I heard a low, raspy moan come from behind it. She shook her head.

Just then a signal trickled in through the surrogate cluster. It was strained, like its source was trying to pinch it off, but it was haan for sure.

“
There
’
s a haan nearby,
”
I said.

Vamp tensed, looking back toward the front door.
“
Sillith?
”

“
No.
”
I felt pulses of apprehension, fear, and hunger. It wasn
’
t Sillith, or Nix.
“
Nix, are you picking that up?
”

“
Yes,
”
he said.
“
A surrogate maybe?
”

I found it hard to believe anyone who lived in a place like this would be part of the program, but if there was one here, it could be in big trouble.

“
Was a haan here?
”
I asked the girl. She didn
’
t seem to understand, so I pointed at Nix.
“
A haan, like him?
”

She shook her head. It was strange. There was a current of fear in the signal, but there was a weird vibe to it. A surrogate who
’
d been left alone would want to be found, but this was the opposite. The haan was hiding. It was scared that it might be found.

“
Vamp, Nix, look around for—
”
The signal winked out and was gone. Had it moved out of range? Nix moved closer and spoke in a low voice.

“
The boy,
”
he prompted.

“
Over here,
”
Vamp said, leaning to look through the doorway to the right.

I headed over and flipped on the light. It was a bedroom, with a single twin bed jammed into one corner. A squat dresser took up a chunk of the precious free space near the head of the bed.

“
Nix, keep an eye on the girl,
”
I called.

Lying on the bed under a sheet was an old man with white, wispy hair and deep hollows in his cheeks and eyes. His papery skin was ashen and sheened with sweat. When I approached, he opened his eyes a little.

“
Dragan?
”
he whispered.

The walls were covered in pictures, almost every inch of them. Each one had been printed and put in a plastic frame. Most of them were close-ups of men and women in uniform; some were groups of uniformed soldiers or photographs of ships or planes. One of the pictures was of a man I recognized, a young Dragan.

It was weird to see him so young. He
’
d been handsome, and rugged-looking, with a cocksure expression on his face. I spotted him in some of the other photos, with men I
’
d never met. It bothered me a little, that familiarity. These were old friends, comrades. I didn
’
t know who any of them were.

“
Dragan?
”
the old man wheezed again.

I knelt next to the bed and felt his forehead.

“
He
’
s burning up,
”
I said.

Vamp had followed me in while Nix stood in the doorway, holding the girl
’
s hand.

“
How long has he been like this?
”
I asked her. She just shook her head, holding up both hands.

“
She doesn
’
t understand you,
”
Vamp said.

The girl pointed at the man.
“
On
bolen
.
”

I brought up the 3i translator as she kept going.

“
On
ochen
’
bolen
.
On
budet
normal
’
no
?
”

He
’
s very sick. He will be okay?

“
Where is the boy? The one you came here with?
”
I asked. I pantomimed, indicating a tall person and two little ones.
“
Do you know where Alexei is?
”

She perked up at the name a little, but the old man waved his hand.

“
Ne
govorite
im
”
he croaked.

Don
’
t tell them.
The girl looked at him, then back at me. She didn
’
t say anything else.

“
He is severely dehydrated,
”
Nix said, gesturing at the old man.
“
I
’
ll get him some water.
”

Nix patted the girl on the head as he moved back into the apartment. She looked up at me, tears brimming in her eyes, and I knelt in front of her.

“
It
’
s okay.
”
I smoothed her hair behind her ears and smiled as best I could.
“
Don
’
t
worry,
we
’
re going to get you all out of here.
”

“N
e
govorite
im
,
”
the man whispered.

I glanced back at him.
“
Help is coming, just hold on.
”

Nix came back carrying a wet facecloth. He handed it to me.

“
Careful,
”
I said to the old man, holding the cloth over his mouth. I squeezed until just a trickle went in. He let out a weak cough, but managed to swallow it. He took me by the wrist, and his hand was so frail that it broke my heart. He pulled for more water, and I squeezed again before letting him suck on the corner.

“
Did Dragan come here?
”
I asked him.
“
Dragan Shao?
”

He nodded.

“
It
’
s okay,
”
I said, stroking the old man
’
s hair.
“
We
’
ll get you help. You
’
ll be okay. Was there a boy with him too? Did he bring a boy here?
”

The man shook his head.

“
I know he
’
s here,
”
I said.
“
Why won
’
t you tell me?
”

He just shook his head again, and fear flashed in his eyes as he glanced at the top of his dresser. I looked back, but couldn
’
t tell what he
’
d been looking for.
“
What? What is it?
”

He turned away. I squeezed some more water for him from the rag, but it just dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

“
Please,
”
I said.
“
Where is he?
”
His eyes rolled.

“
He needs help,
”
Vamp said.
“
Call the hospital.
”

I fumbled out my phone and made the call.

“
First Response Medical,
”
a voice on the phone said. I had opened my mouth to speak when she continued in the same breath.
“
Please hold.
”

“
Damn it,
”
I muttered.

The old man choked, a subtle, almost inaudible sound, and then his eyelids drooped.

“
Mister?
”
I said, giving him a little shake.

“
I think he gave it up,
”
Vamp said.

The old man lay limp in the bed, the rag still hanging from his mouth, which had curled into a faint smile. His eyes were unfocused, and his chest wasn
’
t rising and falling anymore.

“
Hey,
”
I said. I gave him a gentle shake, but he didn
’
t move. When I checked his pulse, I didn
’
t feel anything.