Light Shaper (39 page)

“Shut up!” Barrow said loudly over the sound of more gunfire. Somebody groaned, probably hit. In the confusion Barrow could not tell who it had been. He tried to assess the situation, but he couldn’t make out where anyone was anymore. The snipers had switched positions, and the barricade where Matthew and Jared had been was now engulfed in flames.

“What do we do?” Zoe asked him, her wide eyes reflecting the bright orange light of the fire that kept on growing, devouring everything in its path. Barrow tried not to look at it, tried to ignore the way the air was getting hotter in the enclosed environment. He stood up too far and inhaled a lungful of smoke. He dropped back to his knees, coughing.

“We need to get out of here,” Barrow said. “If we stay any longer, we’re all going to be dead.”

“But how?” Zoe said. “There’s only one exit!”

“There’s fuel here, man,” Streaker added, terrified. “A couple of big tanks. If the fire gets to them…. Oh God. Take me out of here. Take me out of here, please!”

The smoke was getting thicker, the flames belching it out in expanding black clouds. Some of it was escaping through the windows, but they were set too high up for Barrow to reach. They would not be getting out that way. That left only one option.

“Streaker,” Barrow demanded. “Where is the open switch? The thing that opened the gate?”

“In… inside the office, but—but it’s on fire!”

He was right. Barrow looked the way he had come, and everything had gone up in flames. Somewhere somebody was still shooting. And Rigel was nowhere to be seen.

Barrow tried to ignore the pang of pain he felt when he realized Rigel could have been trapped in the fire, but he couldn’t.

Not again
was all he could think, forcing himself to approach the wall of flames, the memories of another fire crowding his mind.
Please, not again.

Barrow led the way down a different pathway, eyes darting everywhere, but not really paying attention because he was having a hard time moving forward into the approaching fire.

His distraction nearly cost him his life.

Matthew Young jumped out of a pile of debris, clutching his gun wildly.

“You damned fucker!” he yelled at Barrow. There was blood running freely down his forehead. “Called your killer friends, didn’t you? But you’re dead!”

There was a sudden jolt as the metal gates began to open with a horrible creaking and grinding sound. The rush of fresh air was like dumping fuel into the fire: it bloomed upward ferociously and forced everybody to take cover. Matthew didn’t give up, though. He stood up immediately afterward and fired. The shot barely missed Barrow, and Matthew was aiming again—

The off-roader came out of nowhere. It plowed into Matthew, knocking him aside. Part of its roof was on fire.

“Steve! Get in!” Rigel shouted from inside.

Barrow didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Zoe’s hand and sprinted for the vehicle. He made it to the front seat, Zoe got in the back, and Streaker barely managed to grab on to the doorframe before Rigel floored the accelerator and shot forward into the fire.

“Look out!” Barrow yelled, crossing both his arms over his head and leaning forward as the off-roader reached the half-open gate. The metal bent outward, and the off-roader shuddered. Something was torn apart with a loud screech, and there was the sudden unbearable heat of the flames. Barrow flashed back to the cramped tunnel of his nightmares, to digging desperately trying to reach the screams of his family even as he knew he was too late.

Then the heat was gone, the furious light turned to darkness, and the vehicle made several sharp turns at full speed, twice nearly flipping over under its own inertia.

Barrow looked up. Rigel was driving like a madman through one of the wider alleys that led out of the slums. Barrow looked behind, confirming that Zoe was there along with a haggard but alive Streaker.

“Fence!” Rigel shouted, and Barrow whipped his head around just in time to see the off-roader leaving the dirt road and crashing at full speed against a flimsy metal fence that separated somebody’s property from the open desert. Rigel hit the brakes a second before the impact, but the car went clear through the fence as if it were nothing and then skidded for several meters.

Then it stopped.

In the silence that followed, the only sounds were the heavy breathing of four people in the off-roader. Slowly, as if not believing their luck, all four of them got out of the car and gathered around the pool of brightness cast by the headlights. Barrow looked at Rigel, who was covered in blood and smudged by ash. Barrow’s concern must have shown in his face.

“The blood isn’t mine,” Rigel explained, his voice slightly shaky. “It’s Jared’s. And… sorry it took so long. I had to open the gate, and then that awful Herrera woman came out of nowhere and—”

Barrow walked right up to him, pulled Rigel in close with both hands, and kissed him.

Rigel stiffened in surprise, but then melted in his arms. Barrow felt Rigel’s breath on his face, the way he was suddenly returning his embrace with surprising strength. Barrow lifted him off his feet for a few seconds, then put him back down gently. They broke the kiss and looked into each other’s eyes, and Barrow tried to put a lot of things into that look. The fear he’d felt at almost losing him. The sudden realization that he felt something for Rigel, something that had been growing throughout all these days. His admiration at Rigel’s resourcefulness and bravery. He wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Rigel seemed to understand, though. He smiled, and Barrow’s heart skipped a beat at the warmth in that look.

“You saved us,” Zoe said, approaching with a smile on her face. “Thank you, Rigel.”

Barrow let Rigel go and finally found his voice. “She’s right. That’s twice now you’ve saved my life.”

Rigel looked like he was blushing, although it was hard to tell under the grime that covered his face. “It was nothing.”

“It was not nothing,” Zoe protested. “If it hadn’t been for you…. God, I don’t know what would have happened. Who were those people?”

“They’re with CradleCorp,” Rigel explained. “They were after me because of what they say I did.”

“But you didn’t,” Zoe said. “They’re setting you up.”

“It’s complicated,” Rigel said, “but essentially, yeah. I didn’t make Atlas explode. I didn’t even want for Otherlife to go offline like it has.”

“Those bastards!” Zoe exclaimed.

“You believe me?”

“Of course I do! And this off-roader you wanted….”

“There’s somewhere we have to go,” Barrow intervened, keeping an eye on Streaker, who was standing nearby looking at the ground. At least he wasn’t trying to escape. “There’s a place out in the desert. It has something to do with what’s happening at CradleCorp, but we can’t tell you any more than that.”

Zoe nodded slowly, obviously thinking. “I think I can help you cover up your tracks.”

“What do you mean?” Rigel asked her.

“Nobody knows whether you came out of that alive,” she said, gesturing back at the faintly visible flames coming from the repair shop. “If somebody comes and asks, and I’m sure they will, I will just tell them that you died inside. It will throw them off your trail until they can sort through whatever’s left in there, and it will give you some time. I even have Streaker here as a second witness. Right, Streaker?”

Streaker jumped, looked at everybody quickly, and then back at the ground. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll say that they died.”

Barrow wasn’t convinced. “Can we trust you, Streaker?”

Streaker looked at him, then at Zoe, and finally at Rigel. He seemed to be trying to come to a decision, and Barrow was about to suggest they tie Streaker up someplace where he couldn’t possibly cause trouble, when Streaker did something unexpected.

He took something off that had been hanging from a chain around his neck, hidden underneath his shirt. It was black and glossy.

“Here,” he said gruffly, holding the data card with the inheritance money out to Rigel. “And… thanks. For not leaving me back there even though it was me who called those CradleCorp people on you. Me and Oswald. We tried to double-cross Jared and Matthew, and you see how
that
went. Sorry. If anyone asks, you’re dead.”

Rigel took the data card, nodding. “Thank you, Streaker. I appreciate that.”

“Not as much as I appreciate being alive,” Streaker said, which made them all grin.

“We should get going,” Barrow said, looking at the time. “We can use the darkness to get out of the security perimeter and closer to the Haven III site before the sun comes up.”

“Right. Let’s go,” Rigel agreed.

“Is it dangerous, where you’re going?” Zoe asked, concerned.

Rigel shrugged. “Probably.”

“And this thing you’re doing… is it worth it?”

Rigel and Barrow exchanged a look.

“I sincerely hope so,” Rigel said, getting in the car.

STEVE DROVE
in silence at first, with the headlights turned off and going slowly through the outskirts of the desert perimeter. Rigel did not speak, although he wanted to. He stayed quiet partly because it was obvious that Steve was dedicating his entire attention to staying on the road, but mostly because he did not really know what to say. The last few hours had been crazy, even more so than usual, and Rigel still couldn’t believe they had made it out of the fire in one piece. All the others had thanked Rigel for saving them as if it had been his plan all along, but the truth was he had been lucky and nothing more. Lucky that none of the bullets in the shootout had reached him. That he had stumbled onto the control mechanism for the door release, that he had found a discarded gun just lying there, barely out of the reach of the flames.

Lucky that Jared had been looking the other way, never even seeing Rigel until it was too late….

Rigel shut his eyes to block out the memory, then opened them again and tried to look at the rocky desert instead. The off-roader jumped and buckled slightly in the uneven terrain, but Barrow kept it on the right track and headed northwest, where the Haven III site was located. Rigel looked up at the starry sky, so much brighter out here than in the city, and forced himself to think about something else. There were plenty of things to choose from.

At least Steve and he were now physically clean. Streaker had known a guy that ran an illegal sweatshop nearby, and there they had washed off most of the grime and changed into new clothes. Zoe had raided the supply cabinets and found some food and water for them to take on the trip. They had done everything as quickly as possible, and then they had to say good-bye, with Streaker looking glad to be rid of them and Zoe genuinely sad to see them go. Funnily enough, Rigel had gotten the distinct impression she had become his friend as well. Maybe she always had been, given the fact that she had never sold him out to the highest bidder during the days when they had stayed at the hotel. Maybe Rigel had been jealous about nothing, imagining things that had never happened because he had been too busy feeling resentful of the old friendship between Zoe and Steve to see anything else.

And then, of course, there was the kiss. The one good thing to come out of all of this, something Rigel still couldn’t believe had actually happened. He looked over at Steve, all but invisible in the dark gloom of the starlit night, his features illuminated faintly from below by the luminous displays of the car console. He was frowning, serious and concentrating, no doubt worrying about what would happen if one of the perimeter patrols found them before they were out of reach in the desert wastelands. To Rigel he looked strong, confident, with a rugged determination about him that Rigel couldn’t help but admire. His hands gripped the wheel with an easy strength Rigel found incredible to look at, the muscles of his forearms clearly shaded in the electric glow, his wide shoulders straining at the seams of the shirt Streaker had given him and which was at least a couple of sizes too small for his frame. Looking at him, Rigel wondered what it must be like to have strong hands that could lift whatever he wanted, instruments of power that allowed you not only to shape the world around you but also your own body. He did not feel jealousy, though. Only wonder and happiness. He was certain now—there was something between them, a connection he had never experienced with another person before.

Unless he was reading too much into that one kiss. What if it had not meant anything to Steve? What if it had just been a thank-you kiss or something different altogether? What if the attraction Rigel felt for him was not reciprocated at all?

He was doing it again, overthinking everything, feeling the insidious touch of insecurity.

Steve kept on driving carefully, ignoring Rigel, and eventually the silence was not companionable anymore but awkward, tense. Rigel watched as they skirted around the northern quarter of the city, dodging the main paths that the military vehicles would use from time to time. Once they stopped entirely to let a small mechanized scout go past, and Steve only started the car when the noise of the scout had died off in the distance. He kept on driving slowly, carefully, his eyes flicking to the displays on the console every few seconds to look at numbers and graphs that the onboard computer displayed, which Rigel could make no sense of. The drive was getting more uncomfortable. It was cold out in the open, and the off-roader had no proper roof. Rigel shivered involuntarily, wondering how it could be this cold when the city was always hot and often unbearably so.

They eventually reached a path that was far narrower than any of the others they had been using and which led away from the city, as opposed to around it. Steve took it unhesitatingly, and at once his posture relaxed.

He then put his right hand on Rigel’s leg and left it there, still gripping the wheel with the other. He kept his eyes on the road, his face impassive when Rigel looked at him in surprise.

Rigel tried to say something, but again he didn’t know what. He was thrilled. The warmth of Steve’s hand was real and reassuring, but aside from that one move, Steve had not said anything or acknowledged Rigel in any way. They went on like that for a few seconds, until Rigel shifted slightly in his seat, and Steve looked at him probably out of reflex more than anything. Their eyes met, and Steve made as if to take his hand away. In his eyes, Rigel saw he was….