Chapter 19
Finn
I ride fast throughout the following day, focusing on not getting lost since I hate the thought of sleeping outdoors alone at night.
When I get close to Denver’s main gate, the sun is already setting.
I’m surprised to see so many drones flying above.
The guards also seem more organized and well-armed than I remembered, and even their green uniforms are clean.
With Denver being so large, they never bothered putting up a massive wall around it, but they do have patrols around the clock and other defenses, some easier to spot than others.
I remember hearing about a mile-long minefield to the west.
I climb down from my horse and walk toward the checkpoint. My clothes are plain and a bit dirty to make it look like I’ve been on the road for days. I nod at one of the guards. “Evening.”
“Where you heading, kid?”
“Westwood. Going home.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Work.”
He gives me a once-over. “Which gang?”
“All gangs. I’m a messenger. You pay, I work.”
“Oh yeah? Which gangs have you been working with?”
Shit. I think of saying that’s classified, but why would it be? “The Lopez cousins for a bit, and also the Midnight Crows.”
“The Crows are still around? Haven’t heard about them in a while. Didn’t the Defenders get them a few months back?” He shrugs. “Might have been someone else. Show me your tat.”
I turn around and lift my shirt.
“You should think of getting it worked on a bit, especially the skulls. Look for Larry on West Third.”
I lower my shirt and turn around. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And remember to put your horse in one of the stables. You’ll get a fine if he shits on the street.”
Last time I was here, horse shit was more common than people. “Thanks for the warning.”
I climb back on my horse and ride into town, allowing myself to exhale only once I can no longer hear the guards behind me.
Up ahead are the city’s impressive skyscrapers, though most of Denver is made up of small neighborhoods and simple private houses.
A few miles to my right, I notice high antennas.
They’re easy to miss with all the trees surrounding the compound, and I don’t recall seeing them before.
I wonder if they are what is stopping Helena from spying on Denver.
“Are you okay?” I ask once I’m sure there’s nobody close by.
“Are you talking to me or the horse?” the woman’s voice in my necklace replies.
“I’m talking to you.”
“I’m fine. Please allow me to conserve my energy.”
I want to ask her to let the others know I’ve made it through the gate, but I choose to wait until I reach my house.
It’s almost night, but not all streetlights are working.
People are drinking and smoking in front of their single-story houses; some are waving their weapons like toys.
I have my own weapons, but I’m not going to wave them around like an idiot.
I don’t make eye contact with anyone, my grip tight on the reins until I come across a stable.
I pay for a week in advance and leave my horse behind, hoping I can trust them to keep him alive.
The house Zac set up for me should be a few blocks from the stable, but the way feels longer with the bags I have to carry.
When I finally reach the small house, it’s fully dark outside, and the streetlights don’t seem to work.
I fumble for the lock with my key, relieved when the door opens.
I turn on the light in the living room. There isn’t much in the way of furniture, but the place seems relatively clean.
I feel more at ease seeing iron bars on each of the windows, and there are more locks on the door from the inside.
I drop the bags on the floor and call, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
I hear nothing back, but I still check the rest of the house carefully.
There’s only a single bedroom and a small bathroom.
Once I’m positive I’m truly alone, I sit on the couch, causing the old springs to creak.
The floor is covered with a dusty carpet decorated with stains, but I’ve stayed in worse places. At least the roof seems intact.
I remove my necklace and hold the vial pendant in front of my face. “Can you please send a message to the others?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell them that I made it to the house safely. I’ll explore tomorrow and try to find out about Caden. And… tell them that I miss them.”
“I conveyed your message.”
“Thank you.” I place the necklace around my neck, then reach for my bag to take out some food.
I eat while watching the stains on the carpet, listening to gunshots in the distance, though they’re likely coming from idiots with nothing better to do.
I just hope a bullet won’t fly through my window by mistake.
When I’m about to finish eating, the woman in the vial pendant says, “Your friends are relieved that you are safe. Timothy the spider misses you too, and River says you are brave and handsome.”
I’m glad that the connection is working from this distance, or this whole plan would have gotten a lot riskier.
I walk to the bathroom and wait for the water in the shower to turn from brown to clear, then I step under the stream and wash the long day from my skin.
I wonder if Caden is far from here and whether he’s kept in a dark cell or somewhere nicer.
I take comfort from knowing he’s closer to me than he has been since they kidnapped him, but it won’t matter unless I find him. As I fall asleep in the lumpy bed, I can still hear gunshots in the distance.
*
I wish they’d turn down the music so I can eavesdrop on nearby conversations.
I sit close to the bar, holding a glass of beer I have no intention of drinking.
All around me, people drink and take drugs while shouting and cursing.
I hate every second I spend here, but I can’t think of a better way to pick up local gossip.
It’s been three days since I got to Denver, and I’ve spent most of that time trying to blend in and absorb information.
Yesterday morning, I rode my horse to where I had seen the high antennas.
As I expected, the area was heavily guarded like a military base, making me more convinced of the strategic importance of the compound.
After more than an hour of trying to eavesdrop, I order something to eat. The bearded bartender starts making small talk, and I play along and answer his questions, even when he’s asking whether I was born here or chose to become a Raider.
“So it was your parents who got you in with the Raiders? No shit. Where are they now?”
“Dead and buried.” Although maybe not buried since the Defenders who rescued me left them and the rest of my old gang for wild animals to feast on.
“Is there anything interesting to do tonight?” I ask.
“You might still manage to buy a ticket to the game if you hurry.”
“In the arena?”
“Yeah, where else?”
I don’t like the thought of sharing space with so many people, and it’s not like I can learn anything valuable from watching people fight while others shout and cheer. “I’ll pass.”
We continue making small talk, and I casually mention having a missing friend who got into trouble with the local authorities recently. “Do you have any idea where I might find him?”
The bartender crosses his arms. “Well, depends on the crime. If it’s serious, he might be hanging from a streetlight close to Civic Center Park.”
I shake my head, feeling nauseous. “It wasn’t that serious.”
“Then he might be in jail near Union Station, or maybe they made him meat for the games.”
“Meat for the games?”
He frowns. “You’re acting like you haven’t been at the arena before.”
I shift in my stool. “I don’t like crowded places, and my work mostly keeps me out of town.”
“Well, they make criminals fight in the arena in all sorts of wild ways. If you do end up going to watch, remember to keep your weapons at home.”
Since Hector was the one who brought Caden here, I can’t imagine he would make him fight in the arena with criminals. I leave novas on the counter and decide to call it a night. As I make my way to the entrance, I hear someone say, “We better get going if we want to make it in time.”
“Damn right we should,” an older woman with spiky hair says. “Ain’t no way I’m missing that hot Defender in action.”
“Mom, don’t be gross!”
I freeze, wondering if I heard them right. I ask, “Is there a Defender fighting tonight?”
The woman smirks. “He’s an ex-Defender now, and yeah, he’s fighting.”
I hurry outside, where the night air is chilly against my warm skin.
I take a deep breath, trying not to get my hopes up, but who else can it be?
I know where the arena is, but I first hurry home to store my gun and knife like the bartender said I should.
It’s a couple of hours’ walk to the arena, but I don’t have time to spare, so I hail one of the buggies that drive people around for nova.
I instruct the driver to take me to the arena, and he spends the next twenty minutes yapping about how much better the games have become with Hector in charge.
I barely listen, my brain clogged with too many thoughts. I’m worried there might not be any more tickets left, but in that case, I’ll have to convince someone to sell me theirs. There is no way in hell I’m not getting inside that arena.
“Stop!”
The driver hits the brakes, and I smash against the front seat.
“What the hell?”
“Wait for me a minute.” With a shaky hand, I fumble for the handle and exit the buggy.
We’re downtown, where everything is noisier and smells worse.
On one of the buildings, there’s a massive billboard with a real photograph and text that says, “Don’t miss out on our CHAMPION in action! Only in the arena!”
The photograph is of a New-Human standing on a sandy arena floor, the dead bodies of men and wild animals spread around him. He’s raising his fist in a shout, his pale chest covered in others’ blood.