He gave her a leg up, and she scrambled into the duct without a look back. “Stay on this side.” Nerves gnawed at his bones. He didn’t like the thought of her making her way near the edge.
Her small hand darted out from another hole in the duct, two frayed wires tight in her grip. “Found some more torn-up ones.”
Nate handed her the pliers, and she twisted them together and crimped the edges without checking with him first.
Reed walked up, bumping his side gently. “She’s really learning.”
“I didn’t teach her that. It comes naturally to her.” He tracked her progress by the fall of dust from the ceiling, occasionally calling up to check on her. She was quick and sure, only answering when she needed a bit of wire or sticky rubber remnants. “She’ll replace me in no time,” he said with a soft laugh.
He glanced aside and caught Reed giving him a strange look.
Just after nightfall, the room’s solitary light fixture flickered to life, bathing them in a pale glow. It wasn’t much brighter than moonlight, but even Brick burst into quiet applause. Pixel climbed out of the ductwork, jumping down into Sparks’s arms. She shook dust of out her hair and grinned like she could power a thousand lights.
As the others celebrated, telling quiet stories in the light, Nate curled up in his bunk. Sleep refused to come. The alarm system wasn’t enough. He needed more trip wires and a better lock once they scavenged or traded for a decent door.
It wasn’t like Alden would know where he was or send someone after him, but Nate couldn’t stop thinking about the promise he’d made. Alden would surely expect to be fed by now—or soon. Even if there was a problem with the Remedy supply.
Nate couldn’t bring himself to find an excuse to go. Not until he had to.
He couldn’t bear the thought of Reed questioning him.
For now, there was no reason for him to leave the bank. The neighborhood was crammed full of crowded residences. They wouldn’t find anything to scavenge without breaking their rule: never lift from people’s homes.
Once Reed declared himself well enough for a night out scavenging, Nate sketched crude pictures of the tech he’d need to put together a battery to keep their basic trip-wire security running.
“We have to hoard power for the night,” he said, tracing the edges with a charcoal twig.
“Is that a cat?” Brick asked.
Sparks shook her head. “It’s a star driving a ship. Right?”
Nate frowned and traced the lines again. “No. Look. The circuits go this way. I can’t do the colors right, but they’re—”
Reed covered his hand, pinning it to the ground. A silent laugh shook his shoulders. “They’re playing with you, Nate. It’s clear enough.”
Nate jerked his hand away and flung the twig against the wall. It splintered and fell in pieces. “It’s serious! You need to find this. You need to find it soon!”
Reed stared at him. “All right. We’ll find it tonight.”
The girls looked at each other, stifling laughter. He couldn’t blame them. Here he was, acting like a prickly batch of explosives.
When they left, Nate went to his bunk and rubbed his forehead with his rough fingers.
“Teach me how a double switch works,” Pixel said, crouching in front of him. She held a new rag doll—a scrap of blanket with hair made of wire.
“Not right now.”
“Why? You’re not resting.” Her lips pulled into a scowl, and when he realized she was mimicking him, a tired laugh escaped his chest.
“All right. Get Sparks’s tweezers and help me get these stitches out of my head.”
Pixel’s fingers were gentle and sure, and she babbled softly while she worked. Each thread tugged eerily in his flesh, but it didn’t hurt.
He tuned her out, too unsettled to focus.
The stitches made him think about Alden. He should have pressed for answers.A problem with Remedy. What did that really mean?
He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.
