Scarlet Read Free Page A

waved the cable at the incensed crowd. “You all should have some respect! That girl’s going to be executed!”
    “That girl’s a Lunar!” a woman yelled. “She should be executed!”
    The sentiment was enforced with nods and someone lobbing a crust of bread at Scarlet’s shoulder. She planted both hands on her hips. “She’s only sixteen.”
    A brash of arguments roared up, men and women alike clambering to their feet and screaming about Lunars and evil and that girl tried to kill a Union leader !
    “Hey, hey, everyone calm down! Give Scarlet a break!” Roland yelled, his confidence bolstered by the whiskey on his breath. He held his hands out toward the jostling crowd. “We all know crazy runs in her family. First that old goose runs off, and now Scar’s defending Lunar rights!”
    A parade of laughter and jeers marched past Scarlet’s ears, but were muddled by the sound of her own rushing blood. Without knowing how she’d gotten off the counter, she was suddenly halfway over the bar, bottles and glasses scattering, her fist connecting with Roland’s ear.
    He yelped and spun back to face her. “What—”
    “My grandma’s not crazy!” She grabbed the front of his shirt. “Is that what you told the detective? When he questioned you? Did you tell him she was crazy?”
    “Of course I told him she was crazy!” he yelled back, the stench of alcohol flooding over her. She squeezed the fabric until her fists ached. “And I bet I wasn’t the only one. With the way she keeps herself holed up in that old house, talks to animals and androids like they’re people, chases folk away with a rifle—”
    “ One time, and he was an escort salesman!”
    “I’m not one tinge surprised that Granny Benoit split her last rocket. Seems to me it’s been coming a long while.”
    Scarlet shoved Roland hard with both hands. He stumbled back into Émilie, who’d been trying to get in between them. Émilie screamed and fell back onto a table in her effort to keep Roland from crushing her.
    Roland regained his balance, looking like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to smirk or snarl. “Better be careful, Scar, or you’re going to end up just like the old—”
    Table legs screeched against tile and then the fighter had one hand wrapped around Roland’s neck, lifting him clear off the floor.
    The tavern fell silent. The fighter, unconcerned, held Roland aloft like he was nothing more than a doll, ignoring Roland’s gagging.
    Scarlet gaped, the edge of the bar digging into her stomach.
    “I believe you owe her an apology,” the fighter said in his quiet, even tone.
    A gurgle slipped out of Roland’s mouth. His feet flailed in search of the ground.
    “Hey, let him go!” a man yelled, leaping off his stool. “You’re going to kill him!” He grasped the fighter’s wrist, but he might have grabbed an iron bar for as much as the limb budged. Flushing, the man let go and pulled back for a punch, but as soon as he swung, the fighter’s free hand came up and blocked it.
    Scarlet staggered back from the bar, dully noting a tattoo of nonsensical letters and numbers stamped across the fighter’s forearm. LSOP962.
    The fighter still seemed angry, but now there was also the tiniest bit of amusement in his expression, like he’d just remembered the rules to a game. He eased Roland’s feet back to the ground, simultaneously releasing him and the other man’s fist.
    Roland caught his balance on a stool. “What’s wrong with you?” he choked out, rubbing his neck. “Are you some lunatic city transplant or something?”
    “You were being disrespectful.”
    “ Disrespectful? ” barked Roland. “You just tried to kill me!”
    Gilles erupted from the kitchen, shoving through the swinging doors. “What’s going on out here?”
    “This guy’s trying to start a fight,” someone said from the crowd.
    “And Scarlet broke the screens!”
    “I didn’t break them, you idiot!” Scarlet yelled, though she wasn’t sure