“But which one of these three names are you gonna be?”
“Don’t worry about that either,” was Ben’s definitive response, ending any further discussion about his “name” or the list of names in general.
Danny shrugged and let it go.
Ben glanced at his watch before removing the ten bags of cocaine from his backpack. He placed them on the kitchen table in a neat row.
“Shit, that’s a lot of coke. Where did you get this stuff?” Danny asked.
“They’re each 100 grams. You’ll get another kilo on Thursday when I pick up the IDs.”
“Fair enough.”
Ben threw his backpack over his shoulder, signaling that it was time to leave. First, however, he nodded toward the cocaine on the table. “Promise me you’ll use that stuff to buy food and not to string out prostitutes.”
Danny crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus, Ben, who do you think I am? You know I ain’t like Sean or his guys.”
Realizing he’d gone too far, Ben held up his hands remorsefully. “Yeah, sorry. I know that.”
Satisfied by this apology, Danny relaxed his stance and mumbled, “It’s okay.”
Ben turned toward the door to leave, but Dez caught him first. “Whoa, hold up. You’re not leaving here without telling us where you’ve been all this time, or why you’re back.”
“Not tonight,” he said. “See you Thursday.”
He exited the apartment with Andy following closely behind. They went back to the alley to retrieve their bikes. They paused a few minutes for some food and water.
“So who were those guys?”
“Just some hackers who helped Jim and me last year. Sean keeps records about everyone and everything in this city on a server uptown. These guys have access to the server, so they can add or change pretty much anything on record, including names of people living in the city.”
“So they’re Fixers?”
“Just Danny. Li and Dez could both be Fixers if they wanted to, but they’d rather fly under the radar. They just work with Danny on the side for jobs like this one. It’s risky, especially for Danny. If Sean found out what he was doing, he’d kill him. So Danny’s pretty picky about what jobs they take. They can’t mess with the data too much, but this one‘s easy to hide. Adding a couple of names to a list of about a million won’t be noticed.”
Andy nodded and ate another dried apricot. “So everyone registered has an ID? Like a driver’s license?”
“Yeah, except it’s a bracelet with a barcode on it. And if you want to live anywhere in or near the city and have access to food, water, and electricity, you have to register yourself and wear the bracelet.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad. The government used to have birth records on all of us, so how is this any different?”
“It’s not, really, and I never had an issue with Sean making everyone register themselves. It’s everything else that he does that I have a problem with. Once you’re in the system, then you have to work. Food and clean water and power don’t just magically appear—I get that. The problem is that Sean uses the Dregs like slave labor.”
“Slave labor,” Andy repeated. She frowned and thought of Maria.
“They’re treated like dogs by the Directors and the Infantry, and everyone over the age of seven has to work.”
“So why do people stay here…people like Danny? He seems smart. Why don’t they try to go out and survive on their own like we’ve done?”
“Some do. A few stay because they doubt anything outside New York would be any better, but most stay because they’re scared and helpless. Most people aren’t like us; you know that. And when you’re so hungry that you feel like you’re digesting your own stomach, you’ll do whatever it takes if someone is giving you food, even if it’s someone like Sean.”
Ben took a bite of beef jerky and offered the remainder to Andy. Starved, she finished the rest of it. Together, they chewed away in silence. He edged closer to the end of the alley and glanced around. The streets were as bustling as earlier.
“You don’t trust these guys?” she asked suddenly after she finished eating.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you told me not to tell them my real name, and then you didn’t tell them which name on that list was supposed to be yours. I assume that means you don’t trust them.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust them. It’s just safer for everyone if they know as little as possible about who we are and what we’re doing here. Sean has tortured people for information, and he’s got spies all over this city just waiting to find people like us. The fact that I’m already at the top of his list of enemies means that I have to be ten times more careful. And so do the people who are close to me.”
“People like me.”
“Exactly. Believe me, you don’t want Sean knowing your real name.”
“All right, so besides getting through checkpoints, what else do we need IDs for if we don’t need food or water or power?”
“To get into nightclubs.”
“Nightclubs?”
“Uh-huh. Sean kept a few of them open, and now they’re wild and crazier than ever. They’re every teenage boy’s dream.”
“Sounds terrific,” she said sarcastically.
“Well, it’s also our ticket to getting the information we need about the virus. The Directors and the Infantry love the nightclubs, and if anyone knows whether Sean’s hidden the virus somewhere, it’s them.”
Ben finished his water and put the empty bottle back in his bag. Andy was still thinking about the nightclubs as she unlocked their bikes.
“So did you randomly pick ‘Katrina’ or did you know someone with that name?” he asked.
“It was my mother’s name. Katrina Wilson. That was her maiden name.”
“Really? How did I not know that already?” He sounded almost disappointed, as if this were something that he should have known about by now.
“Well, I don’t know
your
mother’s name. What was it?”
“Ingrid. Ingrid Andersen.”
“Andersen…that Danish? My dad’s family was Danish.”
He nodded. “Her family was from Denmark. She was the first one born in the States.”
“And Irish on your father’s side?”
“Yep. You can’t get more Irish than ‘Kelly.’ I think that’s the only reason Danny even bothers to help me,” he said with a grin.
Chuckling, she moved closer to him in order to put the bike locks back inside his bag. She looked up at him and smiled faintly. “I like that name. Ingrid, I mean.”
“Yeah, my mom was cool.” He returned the smile. “You would’ve liked her.”
Even in the darkness of the alley, Andy could still make out his translucent blue eyes. “How did you know everyone’s eye color?” she said, suddenly frowning. “I’ve known Morgan and Charlie for six years, and I couldn’t tell you what color their eyes are.”
Ben shrugged. “I knew we were going to need IDs so I made a mental note of everyone’s eye color and approximate height over the past few days.”
“But your ID will say that you have brown eyes, not blue.”
“Well, that’s what colored contacts are for. I can’t go through checkpoints looking like Ben Kelly. Any guy who’s about my age with my description always gets a second look.”
“You have colored contacts?”
“Yeah, some disposable ones I’ve got stashed away, just in case.”
She shook her head and turned away. “That’s too bad. Your eyes are gorgeous. Be a shame to cover them up.”
Ben was momentarily thrown by this comment. Andy had never acknowledged his looks, not to him at least.
Chapter XXI
G
reen Haven Correctional Facility was one of the larger prisons in New York. But despite sitting some seventy-five miles north of Manhattan, Sean hadn’t chosen the prison because it was close to the city, but because it sat in a quiet, rural area of the state. It provided the space and secrecy he needed.
There were eight cellblocks in the prison, lettered A through H. A through D were closed cells, while blocks E through H were open cells facing each other in an aviary-like configuration. Each block had two hundred and fifty-two individual cells, of which all were vacant except for the few that were used by the Fixers to sleep in after a long day of work. Cellblock D, however, had undergone extensive renovations.
It was early afternoon by the time Sean reached the prison. He made the drive alone, only informing his closest advisor, Luke, where he was going. He walked by several guards at the entrance, each greeting him a little too eagerly, and headed directly to Cellblock F. When he reached the only occupied cell, he peered inside.
“Wake up,” he barked between the bars to the girl crumpled on the tiny bed in the corner.
The sound of Sean’s voice startled her, and she quickly stirred from her slumber. Wordlessly, she got up and walked to the bars. Having barely eaten for nearly a week, it was a struggle for her to stand, and the fatigue showed on her face. Though more pale than normal with a hint of circles under her eyes, Lily Haines was still a sight to behold. Her stunning beauty had suffered no ill-effects from the difficulties of a post-viral world. She was thin, as most women now were, but Lily still had all the curves that could excite every male from pre-pubescent boys to full-grown men. And yet Sean’s first remark to her was, “You look like crap.”
Lily hugged her arms tightly around her chest to guard against the drafty air. Her long dark hair draped over her folded arms, and her hazel eyes averted Sean’s own piercing blue stare. She remained silent not out of fear but out of defiance.
“Fun being in here, isn’t it?” Sean went on, finally taking his eyes off Lily to look around at the vast and empty space that surrounded them. “All alone and without any Directors to sleep with.”
“I only did it because you’ve been ignoring me for weeks now. How else was I supposed to get your attention?” She stepped within inches of the bars. Anger colored her cheeks as her almond-shaped eyes narrowed on Sean. “I’m sick of you screwing the other girls and then getting jealous if I even
talk
to another guy. It’s not fair!”
“Life’s not fair. Get used to it,” Sean responded coolly as he stood perfectly erect. “And just for that, I’m leaving you here another day. Someone will drive your skanky-ass back tomorrow.”
Looking as though she was either about to cry or scream, Lily did neither and instead hardened her jaw. Defeated, she turned away and retreated back to her tiny bed. Sean smugly watched her lie back down before leaving. There was one more thing to do.
***
“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Dez said to Ben on Thursday not a minute after he entered the tiny apartment in Chinatown with Andy, Morgan, and Maria. “Where do you find these gorgeous women, and can you tell me so I can go there too?”
The three women laughed lightly. Andy had warned them about Dez’ flirtatiousness.
“It won’t do you any good if I told you. All the pretty ones left with me,” Ben quipped.
“Well, it sure seems that way.” Dez ogled each of the girls shamelessly.
“Yo, Dez, leave ’em alone,” Danny called out from the kitchen. “They didn’t come here to be harassed.”
“I’m not harassing you, am I?” he asked the girls while wearing a mischievous grin.
“Dez, get outta here,” Danny ordered. “We got work to do.”
With his hands held up in a mocking surrender, Dez inched toward the door. “Fine, Mister Grouchy Pants. I was going to the food bank anyway.” Turning back to the girls, he bowed dramatically before grabbing each girl’s hand to kiss. “Good night, ladies,” he said with exaggerated gallantry before leaving the apartment.
Danny came into the living room where everyone else was seated. “My apologies. There’s just no explaining him.”
“Don’t apologize. He’s funny,” said Morgan smiling.
“I’m glad
you
think so,” Danny replied.
“What did he mean about a ‘food bank’?” Maria asked.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like…just a place for people to buy food. I think there’s, like, fifteen in Manhattan and about another thirty in the other boroughs. Of course, the lines are a nightmare. Today I waited two goddamned hours, and by the time I got to the front of the line, the only things left to buy were apples and eggs. I eat so many eggs that I feel like I’m gonna sprout feathers or something.”
“What do you buy the food with?” Andy asked as she silently wished they had brought along some extra food for him and his friends.
“Credit. It’s like money. Each person has to work to get credit, and every job has a certain value. Most Fixers, like me, get a thousand credits a month, which is a lot. I usually have extra at the end of each month. Other jobs, like working in the water treatment plants, get less…maybe three or four hundred credits a month.”
“The dirtier the job, the worse the pay?” Morgan commented aloud. “Well that’s nothing new.”
“And let me guess, Sean decided what each job was worth?” asked Andy, her voice tinged with disdain.
“He and the Directors,” Danny replied, nodding toward Ben.
“Wait,
you
decided what each job was worth?” asked Andy, turning toward him, but he quickly shook his head.