Kristi Helvig - Burn Out

Kale shook his head impatiently. “No, she stays. What is it you’re suggesting, James?”

James looked steadily at Kale. “I’m suggesting she come with us.”

Hell, no. But I bit my tongue and hoped he’d elaborate.

“Are you kidding me?” Britta wailed.

“James never kids,” said Kale, still tapping his fingers.

Markus shot me a hopeful look, like he suddenly cared what happened to me. I ignored him.

Kale acted as if a sudden revelation dawned on him. “Ah yes, the safety in numbers thing. If something happened to us, you’d be here alone. You against the Consulate.”

I wanted to laugh. Being alone meant I could lock their lame asses out of the bunker and be done with them. Their attempt at pretending to care about my well-being was insulting. I knew exactly what they were thinking. That since I was the one with the super-guns, and the only one who could fire them, their odds of getting their water were much better with me than without me. No way was I getting those guns out of the safe.

However, as much as I wanted this fun little group out of my house, the thought of them dying out there and leaving me to fend off the government myself was not the smartest option. I’d have no way off the planet. Maybe Britta dying would be okay, but the thought of Markus dying didn’t sit right with me—though it probably should have. None of that mattered now anyway, because what I really, really wanted was to get my hands on some water.

The signs of early dehydration were already kicking in and I could almost taste the water on his ship.

I glanced at James, whose gaze had returned to me. “I’m in.”

Markus’ eyebrows raised in surprise. No doubt he’d been expecting a sarcastic tirade from me, telling them all to burn in hell.

“But I expect to get a cut of your water. And any other supplies you bring back.”

Markus smirked. “There’s the girl I know. You had me worried there for a minute.”

I had to stop myself from smiling—doing things just for my own personal gain was very Markus-like. No wonder he approved.

Britta stomped her foot on the floor, like a three-year-old who had just been told she couldn’t have a second glass of water. “No way in hell is she getting a drop of my H 2O!” She turned to Kale, the angular side of her nose looking somehow more beaklike. “Tell her, Kale!”

Kale exhaled deeply. “Calm down, Brit.”

Oh, a new one. Brit the twit.

“But it’s not fair—”

“Oh, for Caesar’s sake, I do believe that’s her water you drank there,” Kale said, tilting his head toward the empty cup in front of Britta. “She helps us get there, she gets water. Simple as that.”

Britta crossed her arms in front of her, glaring down at the table.

Oh, no, not the silent treatment. Anything but that. Maybe if I played my cards right, she’d be quiet forever.

Kale stretched. “We should probably try to get a little rest before nightfall.”

I thought of the small labyrinth of rooms surrounding us. My door had a lock, so I wasn’t worried about someone breaking in, and there was no way anyone was sharing my room with me. My room. It was actually my parents’ room, but after my father died, I moved in. I couldn’t stand the reminder of my sister’s death every night—her empty sleep pad taunting me from across our shared room. Plus, my parents’ room was the one closest to this front room. And closest to the exit. The sleep-chamber-for-two size was a bonus.

“Everyone walk that way. I’ll be right behind you.” No way was I going to walk in front of four people who just tried to kill me. Or incapacitate me. Whatever. “Oh, and all your guns stay with me.”

I swear I saw James’ mouth twitch. Did he find this amusing?

“No way in hell is she taking my gun. Who does she think she is?” Britta’s silent treatment didn’t last nearly as long as I would have liked.

“It’ll be fine. I know her. She’s not going to hurt us.” Markus went to his gun and tossed it across the floor to me, like it was no big deal. His eyes met mine and I gave him a short nod of gratitude. That’s all I was giving him.

“We’ll need these back tonight, you understand?” Kale asked.

“No problem. But there’s no reason to have them in here.” I flashed a smile at Britta as I scooped up the three other guns that Kale slid over. “Since when is it considered polite for houseguests to be armed?”

Britta looked like she was going to implode. “Then you need to get rid of yours too.”

I raised my laser and pointed it right between Britta’s eyes. Her startled gasp made me want to laugh. “Get this straight, little girl. I don’t need to do anything. I could take you all out right now.” I waved my finger over the pulsing blue square. “But I’m not going to do that because I have a semblance of a moral code.” My gaze fell on Markus. “Unlike you all.”

I gestured around me with Trigger, still holding their guns in my other arm. “This obviously is the kitchen and energy packets are locked in the cabinet there.” I wiggled my thumb at them. “And I’m the only one that can open it. Same with the button that operates the W.A.R., so you can forget about sneaking water.” Not that there was any to sneak. The container was dry as dirt.

I gestured for them to move down the hallway ahead of me. My room was the first on the right. I stopped and placed my thumb on the red square in the door. An audible click preceded my door swinging open, and I tossed their guns inside before locking it again.

“I couldn’t help noticing the double-sized chamber in there, Tora. I’m willing to share with you, if it’ll help.”

“In your dreams, Markus. Keep moving.”

Across from my room was the sole lavatory. Aside from the small unit that evacuated waste, there was a small cabinet filled with waterless soap for washing clothes—and bodies. Thinking of how much sweating I’d done in the last few hours and how fantastic I must smell, I couldn’t wait to steal a few moments in there. An energetic wand, called eTeeth, used high-frequency vibrations to eradicate plaque and bacteria from your mouth. I’d have to hide that in my room. I didn’t want my wand in anyone else’s mouth.

“The bathroom lock is the only generic one in this place. It’s triggered by any thumbprint. All the others were keyed to our individual thumbprints, so you can’t lock—or unlock—anything else in here.”

Next to the lavatory, farther down the hall, was a small study. It was intended as a place for my father to continue his work. Not his weaponry work, but his work in the antigovernment movement. It was a small space containing his writing station, a stack of thermoplastic-fiber notebooks, and a padded bench. The furniture had been brought in from the pod city. It wasn’t much, but it was my favorite room in this godforsaken place. After his death, I would lie on the bench either watching old videos or reading archived books on the Infinity, escaping to different worlds for hours at a time. I could make the three-dimensional screen as large as I wanted, so, at times, I literally surrounded myself in words. It was the closest I felt to happy.

I looked back at the room. “Someone could have the bench in here, I guess.” I hated that someone else might have my favorite space. “But the couch up front is probably more comfortable than this.”

We turned the corner and continued down the narrow corridor. My old room, the one I’d shared with my sister, came next, about halfway down the hall. It contained two twin sleep pads. Mine had been the one closest to the door, like I could better protect my sister that way. I had no idea what I might be protecting her from, but I’d foolishly thought she was safer with me as the first line of defense. There’s no defense against Mother Nature—she’s one fatal bitch.