9. TWO-FOR-ONE
I’ve forgotten all about the guard at the Boundary, until we’re right up on the financial district and Lawson points at my feet—the soles of my new sneakers are dragging—and holds a finger to his lips. He repositions his pack, switching it to the front, and continues walking. We come up beside a little car with the GeeGee logo, two Gs in a circle, on the side. No guard in sight.
“Shh,” Lawson whispers. “Hear that?”
Snores rumble from the vehicle.
“Napping,” he breathes. “Let’s go.”
He runs crouched over, pack in his arms, and I follow, making myself as small, quiet, and quick as possible as we take to the open street and cross the tracks. I duck around to the D-town side of the inner wall and lean against it, breathing hard.
“We made it,” I whisper, forgetting for a second that everything is different, worse, and smiling at Lawson.
“Yeah.” The pack slides off his shoulders and he hefts its weight with one hand before letting it fall to the ground. “I hope it was worth it.”
“Our turn,” a guy’s voice intrudes, from the shadows.
I jump, heart slamming against my sternum, my body recognizing danger before my mind does. Lawson whirls, putting himself between the voice and me, and hoisting his pack onto his back at the same time. He stands there for a moment before stepping aside. Glancing over at me, he shoves his hair back. The rising sun illuminates the muscle jumping in his jaw.
“We need to go a few blocks in,” he snaps. “There’s a guard here.”
I’ve forgotten all about my scheduled beating.
“Where are the others?” The A steps into the light. His tightly coiled black hair sticks up in all directions.
Not the round-faced, blond guy this time, and for that I’m glad. Kylie and Sam are supposed to be here, but it’s just me—another thing to be grateful for. Lawson is angry with me; hopefully that will make this easier on him. I rack up the blessings in my mind, try to focus on them instead of what’s to come.
Lawson strides ahead, vibrating with tension, and I jog to keep up, but slow my pace when an A shouts after me.
“Run, and we’ll chase you.”
Lawson turns and waits, arms crossed. “What?”
“Listen,” I say, panting a little. “I deserve this, right? For what I did back there.”
“This has nothing to do with that.”
“I know, but can’t you let it balance the scales?” I’ve faced so many beatings in my life, but enduring one now, with Lawson standing just feet away, hating me? I think I might break. “Lawson, please.”
“No.” The word seems thick, too big to fit in his mouth. “No, I won’t have anything to do with this disgusting display.”
Defeated, I stay where I am and let him put some distance between us. The patch of cement under my feet is relatively flat and unbroken, with no glass. A good place for a beating, as far as these things go. But Lawson turns back and catches my injured arm. He lets go when I wince.
“Please fight back. Please, Aidan.”
“I can’t, I can’t. If I fight back, they win.”
He groans and scrubs his hands across his face. “Your pride is going to be the death of you. Why can’t you see that?”
It’s so close to what I wanted to say to him about the weapons.
“It’s not my pride,” I say, stepping back. He doesn’t understand. Never will.
Lawson’s face washes of expression. That’s the only warning before the first blow hits my lower back, just off the kidney. My teeth slam down on my tongue, blood fills my mouth, and I grunt. I squeeze my fists, determined not to make another sound.
“Sorry,” The A taunts, stepping around beside me and grinning at Lawson. “The date is over.”
Lawson spits on the ground at the A’s feet. “Does it make you feel like a real guy, hitting someone who won’t fight you?” Then he stalks across the street and turns his back.
I squeeze my eyes shut in gratitude. This will be easier if he doesn’t watch.
Gravel crunches, more As stepping out of the shadows. Someone’s boot stomps on my foot, and I swallow the blood in my mouth, keeping it to myself, refusing to break the First Consensus by spitting it at my attackers.
Meditation requires a point of focus, and Lawson becomes my anchor as I open my eyes. The ends of his sandy hair do a half swirl in the dip behind his neck. I imagine running my fingers—
Someone hits me in the sternum, and I double over trying to breathe, then trying not to try as pain burns through my middle. I keep my chin up, gaze focused on that swirl of hair. The strands have begun to shiver. So I imagine Lawson is shaking because I’m kissing him, just there, on the soft swirl of hair at the back of his neck.
A fist hits my temple; I go down, hear my skull connect with the cement. The pain of impact comes like an echo. The world has begun to tremble and roar like a train rushing past my head. I push, and with a whoosh, I’m out of my body. It’s the coward’s way out, but I watch from above.
Somehow, my scrawny body is back on its feet. It stumbles from side to side, like trying to stand through an earthquake as three A guys and one A in-between shove me back and forth between them. The news shirts have fallen from my waist and lie scattered underfoot. My head, covered in black stubble, bobs on my spindly neck, tipping forward to display my tattoo of the Om symbol, then back to show dark brown eyes, open and glazed. Bruises, scrapes, and dirt layer my tan skin. The hem of my faded jeans catches under the heel of my sneaker, and one of the As grabs my injured arm to keep me upright, but I feel nothing.
The As barely look at me; instead they watch Lawson. Two for the price of one. His hands clench and unclench. They’re torturing him by hurting me. Using me as a weapon. Sickness rolls over me, finding no place to settle. There’s no way to purge the ill feeling up here, where I have no stomach to empty.
My attackers take turns. One pummels me, while two others hold me up. Knucklebones try to break through skin and muscle to pulverize my guts. The laughter of the As bounces off abandoned buildings. The scene dims as I float higher.
Lawson whirls. “Stop it!” he roars. “You’ll kill that one!”
No, no, no.
I claw at the air, trying to get back. I can’t let Lawson break the Second Consensus. Pain should have forced me back to my body by now, but instead I float up and up and up, while the three D-town consensuses fade from my thoughts.
Keep your blood to yourself.
Agreements between tribes are binding.
The Dance is safe space.
Lawson comes at the As like one of the Cross Bearers’s avenging angels, shoving them back, punching, kicking. His skillful strikes flow into each other. There are only four As, the others no doubt too busy sleeping or banging to be bothered. Opportunities to beat Bees come their way everyday, after all. They had no way to know Lawson would get involved. No way to know that he loves me. I float higher.
He actually loves me.
Whoosh. I open my eyes.
“Aidan? Aidan! Oh, thank God.” Time has passed because Lawson is on his knees.
My head is in his lap. The As are…I don’t know where the As are. Not here.
“I thought—” Lawson looks away, swallows hard. “—thought I waited too long.”
I shake my head and smile. Or try to. My head barely turns, and I grimace instead.
“No,” I croak. “Almost. You shou—” Coughs jerk my body, sending stabbing pain through my middle.
“Shh,” he whispers.
Oh my brave, brave guy you shouldn’t have done that. We’ll both pay.