Z 2134 Read Free Page B

the orphanage. Sure, he’d be
miserable, but at least he’d be safe, something she couldn’t guarantee in the
Dark Quarter.
    A day never passed when Ana didn’t wish
she’d tested well for any other aptitude back when she was 15 and chose to test
for sewing, only because her friend Ginny Thompson thought it would be fun
working together. Ironically, Ginny failed the test and wound up working the
fields instead. How farming — being out in the open all day long — was what you
got when you failed, and being trapped inside a hot factory through nearly
every hour of sunlight was what you got when you passed, well, it seemed a
cruel joke to Ana.
    Ana still remembered her mom
congratulating her when she was first awarded her placement at the textile
factory — as if she’d made a tremendous achievement and would thus be rewarded
with meaningful work. It was easy enough for her mom, who had been gifted at
planning and therefore landed a comfortable desk job with the City, as did her
father, who had worked all the way to Major at City Watch before the events
that changed all their lives.
    The chants of “Jo-nah!” finally died
away, save for one lone screamer, a drunken, long-haired 18-year-old she’d
known all too well. Liam Harrow was tipping back his glass and going on long
past everyone else. He turned to Ana mid-swig, then turned his eyes back to the
screen. A second later he turned to Ana.
    “What?” he said, a slur of hostility
thick in his voice. “Think you’d be happy your daddy made it to the Final
Battle.”
    “Do I look happy?” Ana shot back.
“Don’t worry,” she added, “he won’t last five seconds against Bear.”
    “Some way to talk about your father,”
Liam said, finishing his beer. He climbed from his stool, breaking rank with
his trio of drinking buddies, each of them ranging between 10 and 15 years
older than him, and each looking every bit as rough around the edges. Probably
Underground scum.
    One of them, a red-haired, green-eyed man
with a thick beard, slapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder and said, “Leave her be,
Liam. Let’s watch the recaps.”
    Liam shook his buddy’s hand away, then
glanced back as if to say, “Don’t fuck with me.”
    Though Liam was younger than the others,
he was also in significantly better shape. Fighting shape, though Ana had
little doubt he’d be wearing a permanent ale gut by the time he was 25 — if he
lived that long, or didn’t wind up in prison. Or, even more likely, outside The
Wall. Liam had always been in trouble, and his father was a known troublemaker
before he killed himself, back when Liam was nine.
    Michael started to stand as Liam
approached their table.
    Ana put her hand over his, then shook her
head and said, “No. I’ll handle this.” She held his stare and made him silently
agree.
    It wouldn’t do to have Michael playing
hero.
    He was a gentleman — sweet, good looking
in a nice guy sorta way, and in excellent shape, but not a fighter. Liam,
especially drunk, could hurt him badly. If Ana were to lose Michael, she would
be friendless as well as motherless.
    “Someone oughta teach you to respect your
elders,” Liam said, sauntering to their table, wearing a wide grin, as though
he had just finished a hysterical joke, with a punch line only he got.
    “You’re only a year older than me, hardly
an elder,” Ana said, half-laughing, and only on the outside.
    “I’m talking about Jonah,” Liam said,
looking down at Ana, while ignoring Michael entirely, which Ana was sure must
be digging under Michael’s skin. “You ought not to talk that way of your
father. He’s a good man.”
    “Yeah, I suppose if you like murderers,”
Ana said. She glanced at her hands and forced herself to sip her sugar water
rather than give in to her mind’s usual tangent, which would start with the
many reasons she hated her father and end only after the exhaustive list was
finished and a new one, maybe the reasons he deserved to die, began.
    Ana