The Travels of Scout Shannon Books 1-3

Chapter 10

10

Scout had intended to excuse herself at the first possible opportunity, but halfway through the second burger Tucker had talked her into, her eyelids started to droop. It had been an epically long day, and the combination of a full tummy and the warmth of the nearby fire were wooing her to sleep. If she had been in a chair she could have slouched against the back of it, but being on a bench as she was she just sort of slumped down like she was melting in place.

She was technically still awake but sort of fading in and out of awareness as the others moved around her. They worked together to gather up the dishes and remaining food. It was hypnotic watching them. No one was giving any orders, they just each knew what needed to be done, picking up and handing things off like pieces of an elaborate clockwork.

Ken was prattling on again. Scout thought he was talking about the repairs that needed to be done on the rover, but she couldn’t focus on the words.

She snapped to full alertness when Joelle shrieked. It wasn’t a sustained scream, more a yelp of startled surprise, but Scout was instantly on her feet, her right hand on the handle of her gun.

Then she saw what was in front of Joelle. Gert had dropped an impressively fat rat at her feet and was sitting gazing up at Joelle, waiting for praise. She looked a little confused about the shrieking, her tail wagging a little hesitantly, but she still seemed sure that she would be thanked for her contribution at any moment.

Scout took her hand off her gun and ran it over her tired eyes.

“Where did you find that?” Joelle asked Gert. Gert just wagged her tail even harder.

“I’m sure there are plenty more where that came from,” Tucker said. “I told you they’ve been pouring up from below.” He picked up the rat by the tail and carried it to the composter. “They aren’t so much attracted to our food as fleeing—”

“Yes, of course,” Joelle said, cutting him off with a significant look. More secrets.

Scout yawned. “Where’s Bente?” she asked, belatedly noting their party was short a member.

“She went to get your rover jacked up,” Ken said. “I was about to go help her. Join me?”

“Sure,” Scout said, looking around for Shadow.

“If you don’t mind, can we let your dogs run about for a bit?” Tucker asked. “They seem like good hunters, and our rodent population could stand a culling.”

As if to prove his point, there was a sudden scuttle of dog nails over baked earth floor and Shadow came charging out of the room where they stored the food. He looked around in confusion, having lost whatever he was chasing. Gert went over to investigate and the two sniffed their way back into the room.

“I can keep an eye on them for a little bit,” Reggie offered. “I’d like to watch them hunt.”

“All right then,” Scout agreed.

“I’ll join you in a minute,” Tucker said to Scout and Ken. Ken took Scout’s elbow to guide her back down that short hallway and, more importantly, to propel her through the equipment room as quickly as possible.

Scout looked back over her shoulder. She had one brief glimpse of Reggie squatting on his heels, watching Shadow try to crawl under a shelving unit he couldn’t possibly squeeze under, and of Tucker speaking earnestly to a stern-faced Joelle, then she was back out in the chill air of the outer part of the compound.

“You just loosened some bolts, right? It should be a quick fix?” Scout said as Ken turned the floodlights back on and they walked out to where the rover was parked. Now she could see why the two of them had guided her in so carefully when she had driven through the gate. She had thought it odd at the time, as there was plenty of space to avoid hitting either their bikes or the lights.

But they hadn’t been worried she would hit something; rather they had been navigating her over something that had been covered with the ubiquitous red dust, some sort of jack. The rover was now hoisted a couple of meters off the ground, leaving enough room for Bente to work beneath, although tall as she was she still had to stoop.

“You rode it pretty hard,” Ken said. “You might have done some damage. But no worries; we’ll take a look. No one yet has made a machine that Bente can’t fix. I’m more of a software guy, but since Bente strong-armed me into being her assistant I’ve been picking up some things. Getting pretty handy.”

Bente looked up from where she was crouched over an open box of tools and gave Scout a little smile. Then she found what she needed and retreated once more to the shadows between the rover treads. Ken was running his hands along the rover exterior, inspecting for damage beyond what they had done themselves to the treads.

“You broke some cameras,” Scout said.

“Yeah, sorry. We don’t have spares of those,” Ken said. He looked back at her. “We did think you were the enemy.”

“I know,” Scout said and let the matter drop. She’d be gone soon anyway, and the cameras she needed to drive were all still operational.

Bente went back into the shadows under the rover. Ken peered into the toolbox, selected a tool, and started tightening something still attached to the tread mechanism. Bente slid over a box of extra bolts and Ken gave her a nod of thanks without stopping his motion.

“So this place is the hidden rebel hideout?” Scout asked as she watched. She had figured out at least two things in the time she had spent here: that Bente never spoke and that Ken said too much. If she kept her tone casual, conversational, he might just tell her everything.

“One of them,” Ken said. “This place was a mining concern back in the day, but I guess they ran out of whatever they were digging for. I don’t know, it was abandoned for decades until Joelle’s father and Bente’s uncle moved in when they were, like, our age.”

“How many of you are there?”

Ken looked up, his arm still working the ratchet that tightened the bolt, and gave her an apologetic grin. So he did have limits to what he would say. She grinned back, not wanting to seem like she was probing him for information, even though that was exactly what she was doing.

“I get it,” she said. “You can’t tell me. But aren’t you looking for more recruits?”

“Are you looking to be recruited?” Ken countered, looking her over as if to size up her potential.

“No,” Scout said almost wistfully. A week ago that had been her fondest wish. But so much had changed in just a few days. “This just seems like a small operation for a group hoping to overthrow two different governments, and one of those out of reach up in space.”

Ken stopped ratcheting and looked around as if seeing the compound with new eyes. “We do okay,” he said, resuming his work.

“I’m asking too many questions,” Scout said.

Ken shrugged, then moved on to the next bolt. “Perfectly understandable. I had a lot of questions too when I first got here.”

“Tucker and I are both orphans. Is that the same for the rest of you too? I mean, I guess not for Joelle and Reggie.”

“Right, Joelle and Reggie still have their dad. He runs things here,” Ken said. “Their mom was a rebel too. She was in one of the cities the day the sky fell.”

“Doing rebel work?” Scout asked.

“Actually, just visiting her family. Bad timing.” He gave her an exaggerated grimace, then went back to the box of bolts and grabbed several more before returning to the tread. “Now Bente doesn’t talk about her family outside of her uncle,” Ken said. “He’s out with Joelle’s dad right now. You’ll meet them both when they get here, I suppose. Bente came here around the same time I did. Her mother was Arvid’s sister, but that’s all I know about it. Something must have happened to her mother, but she doesn’t like to talk about it. I don’t even know if she has a dad or siblings or anything else.”

Scout nodded in understanding. It seemed an odd distinction to make, that Bente didn’t like to talk about her childhood or family. Bente didn’t seem to talk about anything. But Scout kept her attention on Ken. “And you?”

“Runaway,” Ken said. “I left home . . . four years ago?” He stopped working again and his eyes rolled up and to the side as he counted back. “Yeah, four years. Wow. Seems like longer. Or else just yesterday.”

“Yeah,” said Scout, who had similar feelings about the time since her family had died.

“I was living in the alleys of the capital city.”

“That’s tough,” Scout said.

He looked up at her and arched one eyebrow.

“I deliver messages and packages by bike,” she explained. “I avoided the capital, but when I had to go, I always made sure to have a place to stay. How did you avoid the nightly street sweeps?”

“At first, I didn’t,” Ken said. “I was put in juvenile detention about a dozen times. The city patrols are vigilant about catching homeless kids and locking them up, as it seems you know, but the guards at the lockups are far laxer. It’s super easy to escape, especially for a kid with skills like me.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone escaping before,” Scout said. “Although I guess the kids I talked to about what it was like inside, they must have gotten out somehow.”

“Most get sent back to their families and run away again,” Ken said. “Some that escape use that story for cover.”

“That makes sense,” Scout said. “Is it as bad as they say? Inside?”

Ken stopped working again, raising and lowering the hand that held the ratchet tool as if testing its weight. “It can be,” he said. “The worst is that it’s so random. There is no way to follow the rules and avoid punishment. It’s impossible. The rules keep changing, and some of the guards just like breaking kids.”

This time when he turned back to his work, Scout noticed a silver line meandering across the back of his head, visible through the close-cut black hair. A scar. From what? Those days in lockup?

He would probably talk about it if she asked, but some stories she’d rather not know. “Did you ever think about going back and busting the others out?” Scout asked instead. “Fresh recruits for the rebellion?”

“We don’t really have the sort of operation that requires lots of manpower,” Ken said, but he flushed when Bente shot him a furious glance. Apparently, he had just said too much again. Scout moved closer as if to inspect Ken’s work. She wanted to know what sort of operation they did have. What exactly did they do besides steal and fight bandits? She was about to speak again when they were interrupted.

“How’s it going?” Tucker asked as he sauntered into view. He directed his question at Ken but his eyes were on Scout. She stepped back from Ken. With those bright lights it was impossible to know how long Tucker had lingered in the dark, watching her firing questions at Ken.

“Should be done pretty quickly here,” Ken said, glancing at Bente, who nodded her agreement. “This has got to be the oldest rover I’ve ever seen—I can’t believe it’s still rolling and not in a museum—but it’s been lovingly maintained.”

“Nearly done, good. I really should get going,” Scout said.

“At this hour?” Ken asked, looking from her to Tucker.

“I have someplace to be,” Scout said. She too looked at Tucker. “You promised. Dinner, repairs, then I was free to go.”

“I did, but—”

“It’s not happening,” Joelle said, her voice echoing through the canyon before she even appeared from between the floodlights. “No one is leaving. Not tonight.”