60. Vesper
VESPER
Though Stryker only got a few sips from me, the moment we leave the Boiler King warehouse and the creepy crawling automatons behind, I become aware of just how tired I am.
I shouldn’t be this fatigued from just a little fight, not at a Tier Two.
When I check my new HP bar though, it’s down by half and slowly regenerating, but I could really use a moment to rest.
“You good?” Locke asks as I stumble over a pile of garbage.
“Yeah,” I reply, repressing a yawn. “I’m fine.”
He studies me closely, and though he fought the Boiler King and defeated the boss, he doesn’t look like he’s too tired. Which means the Leech definitely has some serious power at his disposal. If I’m this tired from the tiniest of sips . . .
“We’ll go to the Coney Island safehouse again,” Locke says. “It seems closer than the Disorderly Hotel.”
“I said I’m fine,” I grumble.
He bumps his shoulder against mine. “I know you’re fine. It’s just to regroup. Figure out what we’re doing next. The Harrow Gates are opening soon, right?”
“Cipher?” I breathe, my steps starting to slow.
“One day, fifteen hours, forty-one minutes, and fifteen seconds,” he supplies helpfully.
“Exactly. So, we’re going to plan for that,” Locke nods.
His eyes trail over to where Stryker moves along with us, a permanent snarky smile on his face as he watches our interaction. Mostly, his eyes don’t leave me. It should creep me out. I’d be wise to think it creeps me out.
But I’m an idiot, so some part of me is enjoying the attention.
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” Locke says after we walk in silence for a few more minutes. When I wince, he leans closer. “I knew it!” he hisses. “You have no fucking idea!”
“We’re all winging it,” I whisper back. “He could be useful.”
“How? By sucking us dry?” he argues, his voice still low. “We should just kill him now. Leeches aren’t friends.”
“Not any more than Bone Breakers are,” Stryker interjects, clearly enjoying himself listening to us whisper about him. When I turn to look at him, his smile widens, as if I’ve graced him with some great gift.
Locke shoots him a scowl. “Why the fuck have you been tracking us anyways?”
“Us?” Stryker repeats. His eyes trace down my body. “Not us. Just her.”
“Why?” I ask. “It can’t be just because I taste good. There are thousands of players in the Harrow. You could chase down any one of them.”
He shrugs. “Curiosity. Eagerness.” He meets my eyes. “The intense urge to suck you dry while I fuck you. What more reason do I need than that?”
It’s my turn to scowl at the Leech now. “You know, I’m starting to really dislike you.”
“Lie,” Stryker purrs, leaning closer. He touches my chin with his sharp finger and tilts my head up. “You’re intrigued by me, Beastie. And you’re not immune to my charm.” He chuckles. “Even with this collar around my neck.”
I jerk my chin away. “Keep lying to yourself.”
His low chuckle makes my stomach flip. “I have no need to lie, Beastie. Everyone else does enough of that for the both of us.”
I step away, my eyes narrowed on him, before I turn and start walking again.
I’m incredibly aware of his eyes on my back as I walk.
As his eyes peruse me, I swear I can feel his fingers touch me in the same path.
A few times, I glance behind me to doublecheck that he really isn’t touching me.
Every time, he’s not close enough for the feelings I feel, and it’s starting to drive me mad.
After a few hours, the choking smog of Smokestack Row starts to thin and the Gilded District begins to appear, shining and glittering like a diamond in the grime.
When we step foot outside of Smokestack Row entirely, I take the biggest, deepest breath possible simply because I can.
My lungs immediately feel fuller and I have to stop for a moment, just to take in the feeling.
I did the same when we first came into the Harrow.
I can’t wait for Dox to feel it when she gets in. She’s going to lose her mind.
The Coney Island safehouse is one of the bigger ones we’ve been to.
The entire boardwalk is considered the safehouse, the strange moving contraptions and all.
As it appears in the distance, I can hear the thrilled screams of people on the speed tracks as it goes around and around.
The sounds of New Babel are loud in general, but Coney Island, there’s an extra sound that filters out of it.
Happiness.
It’s so strange to hear, especially since we haven’t really heard it as loud before, that I have to stop for a second and take a few extra deep breaths.
When we finally reach the entrance, I realize it’s because there are more players here than before.
All around us, players play the games, wait to get on the speed track and the giant wheel, grab some of the hotdogs.
Why are there so many now? Why weren’t they here before?
“Some people come to wait for people at the Harrow Gates,” Havoc answers the question in my eyes. “The day before the gates open, the nearby safehouses are usually busy.”
I look at him. “So . . . we’re all just hoping for someone we know to step through those Gates?”
Havoc nods. “I’ve known women who waited for their partner to come through for a decade, only for them to never show up.
I’ve known children who wait for their parents, friends waiting for friends, families hoping more get out.
” He shrugs. “It’s a sad reality that most people will not be brave enough to enter, and those who do, most will not survive. ”
Locke looks at me. “Well, before we sink too far into that depressing statement, you wanna ride the speed track thing with me?”
I eye the wooden track skeptically. “Are we sure it’s . . . safe?”
Locke snorts. “We’re in the Harrow. But this is a safehouse.”
“Good point,” I sigh. “I’m pretty tired—”
“Just once,” he begs. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
I wouldn’t have been able to deny him had I wanted to.
His eyes are bright. We’ve just beaten all the Minor Bosses in the three regions we can reach.
We’re going places. And Dox will hopefully walk through that gate tomorrow.
All happy things. All great things. We’ve survived despite the odds. We’re doing it.
“You know what?” I say, threading my fingers with his. “You’re right. Let’s go try it.” I glance at Havoc. “You coming?”
“No,” he replies. “I’ll stick with Stevie.”
“Oh my god!” Stevie gushes. “I totally like you, too, Havoc Wavoc!”
Havoc scowls. “On second thought, maybe I will go on the Cyclone with you.”
Stevie flashes brightly, offended. “Wow. You’re like literally a prick.”
“I’ll get you some of that cotton candy again when we get off,” I promise Stevie. “I know you liked wrapping yourself in it.”
He flickers again. “See. That’s totally why I like you, Vesper. You get me.”
And then he floats off into the crowd, apparently going to wait for us.
Locke, Havoc, and I get in line and for a second Stryker hesitates. He looks up at the speed tracks and scowls, but then looks back down at me and realizes we’re actually going on it. He stands there, indecisive, as if he can’t bring himself to move.
“You can come,” I tell him. “If you want.”
His eyes clash with mine at my words, and something new flickers there. Something . . . vulnerable.
I can tell he doesn’t know how to handle my kindness, so as an olive branch, I give him exactly what he’s expecting.
I pat my thigh, whistle, and say, “Here, boy!”
The vulnerability disappears and the smooth Leech returns, the slow smile spreading on his face as he gets in line with us. Interesting. I file the bit of information away for later.
It takes us about five minutes of waiting before we reach the front. When we do, an NPC gestures for us to get into the small cars waiting for us.
“Two to a car,” he says. “Hurry it up. I don’t got all day.”
Locke and I scramble into the front car while Havoc climbs into the second. Stryker hesitates again.
“Get in, Leech,” Havoc growls. “We’re waiting on you.”
He climbs in and tries to put distance between him and Havoc. Havoc just sits in the car, his face pinched in displeasure, his arms crossed over his chest, as the NPC pushes bars down across our laps.
“Arms in the air,” the NPC says and then slams his fist on a button.
The cars lurch forward, and I grab at the bar in fear at the sudden movement.
Immediately, we start moving up, the click, click, clicking of the car on the tracks loud in my ears.
I glance behind me to see Havoc still sitting with his arms crossed.
Stryker looks nonplussed, but when he sees me, he blows me a kiss and tries to wrap his arm around Havoc.
Havoc, not having any of it, shoves him roughly back to his side.
“Don’t touch me,” he growls.
Stryker rolls his eyes, but stays on his side.
We reach the top of the large hump and we go over, hanging in limbo while the rest of the chain comes over the hill.
“Arms up!” Locke says, grabbing my arm and raising it.
“This is a dissatisfying rollercoaster,” Svetlana says, holding onto my shoulder tightly with her legs. “In Russia, we had the Serpent Dragon, a monstrous beast of a coaster that would make you think you’re dying.” She raises her tibial spines in the air. “But this will have to do.”
I follow her lead and hold my breath, my heart beating frantically in my chest as we look down the metal and wood track.
It all stills for a second, frozen, and then we rush down the hill at a speed I’ve never traveled before.
I scream, at first in fear and then in excitement when we round the corner and start twisting around.
Locke shouts with me, our laughter and screams melding with everyone else’s in the car behind us.
Even Svetlana screams as she clings to my shoulder for dear life, holding on so she doesn’t fly off.
It’s over so quickly as we roll to a stop at the start again, it’s almost disappointing.
“Wanna go again?” Locke asks excitedly.
I grin. “Yeah. Let’s go again.”
I lose count of how many times we ride the Cyclone. But by the time we get off and go find some food, I feel lighter than I have since I came in this place.
“Dox is going to love this safehouse,” I tell Locke. “I can’t wait to bring her here.”
For the first time, I see something flicker in his eyes. Worry. Pity. I don’t know which. But I choose to ignore it. She’ll be coming in. I know she will.