“I can fill in the rest. Thanks.” Despite his cool tone, Guardsman Cruz didn’t look mad. He tipped his head up to the sky and let out a slow breath.
Wait — was he really considering not following orders?
“What’s your name?” I asked quickly. “Your first name.” I didn’t want to talk to a killer robot anymore. I wanted him to be a person.
His expression relaxed a fraction. “Everson.”
“Where’s that?”
“It was a town in Pennsylvania where my mother grew up.”
He had a mother? Wow. Guardsman Cruz was becoming more human by the second.
“Stay here,” he said, nudging me aside. “As in really stay this time.”
I blocked his path. “Where are you going?”
“To get you some clothes. No guard would be caught in that getup on Arsenal.” He nodded at my vest. “Not even if she’s off duty.”
“It isn’t mine. My friend —”
“Do something about your hair.” He pushed past me, clearly not interested in why I was dressed like the step-daughter of a stripper.
I slumped against the barracks wall. Everson, Pennsylvania. It sounded like a nice town, but was the boy nice?
Please. He was a line guard. Nice didn’t apply.
The killer robot returned with a pile of clothes, combat boots, and a gray cap. I tensed, waiting for more guards to appear. When no one marched around the corner, I relaxed a little. He hadn’t reported me. For now.
Everson held out the bundle. “I got them from the women’s barracks, so feel guilty. Some guard is going to —”
“From a clean pile?”
“Does it matter?”
It did to me. But based on the press of Everson’s lips, I dropped the issue. “Where can I change?”
“Here.”
“Uh, no. I — can’t.”
“And I’m not taking you anywhere dressed like that. So either change or cross back over the bridge.”
Another nonchoice. His eyebrows — straight and dark over his eyes — gave him a stern look, which made me reluctant to push my luck. I’d just have to change fast. “Are you going to turn around?”
He shifted his gaze to the basketball court — like that would be enough to put me at ease. What did he think I’d do? Clobber him when his back was to me?
Gritting my teeth, I kicked off my ankle boots and got the snaps on the vest undone, but that was as far as I could make myself go. As humiliating as the vest was, I didn’t want to change into someone else’s dirty laundry in front of a line guard while standing outside in an alley where anyone might waltz by.
“What’s taking so long?” Everson asked.
He looked over. Good thing I hadn’t flung off the vest. “Can you please turn around? I promise not to make a run for it.”
“So you say.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t want you doing something stupid.”
Nice. “Well, how about trusting that I’m smart enough to realize that you know your way around here and I don’t. So, if I were to run, I’m guessing you would catch me.”
“Good guess,” he agreed.
“And considering you’re as big as a cow, I’d probably end up dirty and hurt. Two things I hate. So, believe me, I’m not going to run.”
He eyed me like a pop quiz that he hadn’t studied for, but then gave me his back — ramrod straight, of course. I felt a little better. I still had to get undressed outdoors, but it was reassuring to know that logic worked over here.
“Cow?” he asked, sounding put out.
“Bull. Whatever. Big.” I gave the shirt a sniff. It wasn’t too bad, so I pulled the stretchy neoprene over my head. Between the shirt’s high neck and the three-quarter sleeves, it would keep me a lot warmer than Anna’s vest had.
“Ready,” I said, once I’d gotten everything on, including the boots. I transferred the bottle of hand sanitizer and guard badge from my jeans to a side pocket on the camo pants.
Everson tugged my cap low over my eyes. “You’re lucky I’m the one who found you. Any other guard would have hauled you off to Captain Hyrax.”
I tensed. “Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t drink the Kool-Aid. Come on, let’s go.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant and I didn’t care. Just so long as he didn’t turn me in. “One minute.” I tried to roll up Anna’s vest but the vinyl was too stiff. It didn’t fold well either and was not fitting easily into the messenger bag.
“You’re not planning on following in your father’s footsteps, are you?”
I wasn’t, but that didn’t mean I wanted some line guard pointing out my shortcomings as an amateur fetch. I shot him a dirty look.
“Just asking,” he said.
Was that amusement in his voice? He tugged the vest out of my hands and snatched up my white boots. “Hey,” I hissed as he stalked off. “I have to give those back.”
Stepping from between the barracks, he tossed the things into the first trash can he passed. I frowned but didn’t try to fish them back out. As grateful as I was for his help, Guardsman Cruz was starting to rub me the wrong way. Were all line guards so bossy? I tucked my ponytail under the cap and joined him.
“You’ll pass.”
Darn right, I’d pass. I could do the whole ramrod posture, perfectly-made-bed robot thing. Okay, maybe not the marching and the push-ups …
“Good job on the boot size,” I said, but he just waved me forward. Whatever. I wasn’t here to make friends. Still, I was pleased that everything fit. I even felt a little tougher dressed in military pants and a carbon-gray top. Now I could slip through the shadows like a real fetch instead of shining like a beacon of westerness in white vinyl.
We didn’t take the trail the guards with Bangor had hurried down. Instead, Everson guided me alongside the fence that enclosed the island. A high-pitched yammering echoed from the far bank of the river. Everson didn’t seem to hear it. I paused to peer through the chain link into the darkness beyond, but could see nothing.
“Don’t touch the fence,” he warned.
“Is it electrified?”
“Yeah. It’s set to stun-lethal. Meaning, touch it once, the shock will knock you flat. Touch it again, your heart stops.”
When the yammering started up again, he jerked his chin toward the sound. “Feral.”
I looked, but I couldn’t even make out the river, let alone the east bank. “You mean an infected animal?”
Everson cocked his head, listening. “Human, I think. One that’s too mutated to talk.”
My gut twisted. Mutated. So the rumors were true. “Is Bangor going to mutate?” Everson nodded. “Okay,” I said, though it absolutely wasn’t. “But why was he acting crazy?”
“Right now he’s just fevered. Bangor’s body is trying to kill the virus with heat, but it’s not working, so his body keeps upping his temperature.”
“Why were his eyes yellow?”
“Because even if he lives through the fever, Bangor is still grupped.” Everson glanced back at me. “Genetically corrupted.”
Ahead of us, a pool of light illuminated a massive gate made of chain link and corrugated steel, topped with cantilevered spikes wrapped in razor wire. As if that wasn’t intimidation enough, a guard booth was stationed beside it. Everson pointed past the gate. “We’re at the bridge.”
“The last bridge?” I peered through the fence and could make out its skeletal silhouette against the river.
“The one and only.”
Despite all the spotlights aimed at the gate, the bridge itself was disappointingly dark. Probably another security measure. Still, when Everson wasn’t looking, I pushed record and aimed my dial toward it. It was a famous landmark, after all.