Chapter 5
What is happening, Cal? I am reading higher anxiety levels in you.
Instead of answering, I turned to Nolan. “Those are the guys from last night.”
He frowned. “Think they’re here for you?”
I shot him a cynical look.
I believe it is safe to assume they are here for us.
“Yeah, right, stupid question,” he said. “All right, Cal. You’d better get yourself out of here, and I’ll hold them off. I’ll come find you when it’s clear.”
I stood my ground. “Don’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble, you hear me?”
He shot me a crooked smile. “Who, me?”
Above, Franklin was leading the pair toward the stairs nearest to our section. With my boss currently blocking their view on the narrow walkway, I ducked behind the hundred or so drums waiting to be loaded on the trucks, staying low until I was at the edge of the open loading bay.
Before I ran, I took one last look behind me.
Nolan was capping drums like it was just another day.
I considered waiting, hiding until the enforcers left, but I’d clocked in, so they already knew I was here.
I hated leaving my buddy behind, but the enforcers were after me, not him. He’d be okay. He had to be.
I sprinted from the building and across the empty lot. My habits almost sent me running toward the market and back home, but my instincts told me that was a dumb idea. Instead, I ran along the wharf to my right.
The docks were busy, but I’d never seen an enforcer around there—it stunk too much.
Drones were another story. The river used to be thick with fish, but pollution killed off everything except the bottom-feeders.
Now, even those contained so much lead and plastic that most people would rather starve than risk the diseases the fish brought.
The waterfront stank like dead fish and raw sewage, but at least there’d be fewer security drones monitoring this area.
I sense you are running, Cal.
“Because those enforcers are going to be coming after me sooner rather than later,” I replied.
I suggest you hide, as you are not equipped to handle trained security professionals.
“Seriously? That’s all the help you can offer? I think I’ll change your name to Captain Obvious.”
I have noticed that you use sarcasm and irony as a self-protection tool.
“No shit.”
Fish Row began one block ahead, where fish were raised in massive tanks and shipped up to Aberdeen for dinner tables. Sure, Dreswick got some fresh fish, but only the rejects and leftover body bits and mushy pieces that could be made into fish sticks.
I glanced up to search the sky for surveillance drones.
I’d seen one not far from the factory, but it was positioned over the entrance and not the loading bays.
By now, the enforcers would’ve reached my section and found only Nolan.
Knowing my buddy, he’d keep them busy for a few minutes before sending them on some wild goose chase.
Did they want vengeance bad enough to chase me?
Who was I kidding? Enforcers harassed folks purely for the pleasure of it.
There was a second drone hovering above a three-car cargo train currently parked at the docks of the second building on fish row, so I ducked into the shadows of the nearest building.
Not having access to your senses is very inconvenient.
“And if I did, you’d be giving me a play-by-play summary of what I’m doing,” I quipped as I scanned the area.
I couldn’t continue forward without being caught on video.
Back at Powerworks, the gray enforcer AV was pulling away.
Its tinted windows meant I couldn’t see if one or both enforcers—or even more—were inside.
The drone was conducting a search in a circular pattern growing wider with each pass.
If it didn’t spot me soon, I could guarantee more drones would be on the way.
A side entrance to my right opened, and an employee wearing a white apron covered in fish guts stepped outside for a break.
He looked exhausted, so I gambled he wouldn’t raise the alarm—which could cut his break short—and I slipped through the doorway.
There’d be cameras inside, of course, but they were for management to watch their staff.
I’d seen one of Franklin’s camera feeds once—he’d had one camera zoomed in on a curvaceous young woman who worked a few sections up the line from me.
After seeing that, I was never overly worried about cameras inside the Powerworks factory.
I hoped this factory’s manager had his own favorites to watch.
This building reeked of dead fish. Lining the walls were tanks containing enormous tuna packed in so tightly, they couldn’t even swim.
The assembly line ran through the center of the long building, where fish were lifted from tanks with massive claws, and workers cut into them while they were still gasping.
It was merciless, giving the fish a front-row seat to their imminent demise, but then I supposed it wasn’t any different than how we low-towners had it.
The only way out of Dreswick was as composted dirt processed through the terraforming plant on the western edge of town that billowed smoke every time a new shipment arrived.
I began walking through the factory, acting like I worked there. No one seemed to notice—they were all busy working the line, and with how bad the factory stank, they wouldn’t have expected anyone to willingly walk through there, anyway.
The farther down the line I walked, the cleaner the factory got.
By midway, all the excess fish parts had been sent along another belt, leaving only prime cuts being packaged in neat little boxes.
We low-towners bought our fish by the pound in bags, and I’d never realized that fish could look actually appetizing. My stomach growled.
“Hey.”
I jerked around to find a worker wearing a relatively clean apron.
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
I might’ve asked someone the same question if they wandered into my section. I gave her the most helpless shrug I could muster. “I’m the new guy.”
Those four words were universally known across Dreswick.
And instantly, any concern she had turned into annoyance.
“Well, this ain’t your section.” She pointed to a door.
“That’ll get you to the main hallway. And be sure to grab a bib.
You get caught around here without one, and you’re fired. Got it?”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
I hustled to the door and entered the hallway.
I would’ve preferred the anonymity of the bustling factory line, but this was still a better option than out in the open.
I made my way toward the end of the factory.
The hallway was white and smelled better, with the heavy tang of ozone generators that were used to kill the stink.
There were a lot of places I could think of that could use a good ozone generator.
A soft ping chimed in my head, and I jumped. “What was that?”
I have prepared an update to my sensory protocols. Please be patient during the upgrade. I will require most of your body’s energy.
The announcement, made out of the blue, caught me off guard. “What are you talking about, Byte?” I asked, but it didn’t respond.
Then, it was as if all the energy was suddenly siphoned from my body, and my head felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton. I stumbled, catching myself against the wall. My limbs weighed a ton, and I trudged forward.
“Byte? Talk to me.” But my amp wasn’t talking.
I coughed and realized it was the first time all day that I’d done so. I sometimes could go a few hours without coughing, but I’d never be able to run without my throat and chest gunking up. “Was that you, Byte?” I asked, but of course I didn’t get an answer.
My vision blurred, and my ears rang, but I forced myself to keep going. This factory may be safer than the streets, but it wasn’t safe by any stretch. The enforcers would check out every place near the battery plant, and when they accessed this building’s cameras, I’d be done for.
When I reached the exit, I leaned against the door, struggling to catch my breath.
Then I cracked it open enough to scan the area.
I didn’t see any drones, but my vision was so fuzzy, there could’ve been one right above me and I wouldn’t have noticed.
More importantly, I saw the enforcers’ AV now parked at the factory across the alley. That meant they’d check this one next.
I stepped outside and nearly toppled over.
My arms and legs tingled. I’d never make it far in this condition—whatever this condition even was.
I noticed a set of dumpsters in an alley across the street.
After checking the area again, I crossed, stumbling forward.
Anyone seeing me would assume I was completely drunk or jacked up on something.
I reached the dumpsters and let myself practically fall between two, then squeezed into the dark space between a dumpster and the stone wall.
I focused completely on not coughing and was only semi-successful while sucking in enough air to keep from passing out.
Something was dripping from a rusted hole in the dumpster next to me.
The stench was bad, but it could’ve been worse, since my nose was muffled like I had a cold.
The ringing in my ears was growing louder to the point of being painful, and my vision darkened.
By the time everything went black, the ringing was agonizing.
Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, I was fine.
The ringing stopped, my vision cleared, and the stench almost made me vomit.
But most importantly, strength returned to my limbs.
I no longer had the urge to cough, but I resisted the urge to take a deep breath.
Hello, Cal. I sense stress. I assume that means the enforcers are still looking for us?