“That’s right.”
Juniper returned from behind a curtain in the corner, dragging a basket across the floor. The handles sagged with the weight of the contents. Despite himself, Nate leaned forward, mouth watering.
“Told you they feed us. Didn’t know you were hungry. You have to say, is all,” she said, talking to Pixel. She crouched, her skirt pooling at the floor like dingy water, and began picking through the basket.
Pixel climbed out of the bed to perch beside Juniper. “All right. I’m hungry.”
“We’ve got. . .apples, bread. Dried something. . .green. Jar of preserves. No label, though, so don’t know if it’s any good or not.” Juniper lifted each item as she spoke in a quiet, singsong voice. “It’s healthy to eat. It keeps us strong.”
“I want an apple,” Pixel said, reaching for it cautiously. She scooted away from the basket and took small, quick bites.
“You don’t have to be scared.” Juniper huffed and grabbed the bread and a canteen. Without another word, she started wetting the bread and feeding Nate bites. His pride hurt, but he hadn’t eaten in days, and he slowly chewed and swallowed each bland bite.
Nate pictured a lifetime of this routine, and the bread in his stomach went sour and cold.
“I’m resting now. It’s healthy to rest,” Juniper said. “It keeps us strong.” She wandered away, taking a roundabout path across the room, as if lost. The curtain at her bed fluttered shut, and she didn’t make another sound.
Nate fought his way to sit and spent several minutes getting back into his clothes, with Pixel’s help. His ash-covered boots remained on the floor beside his bunk.
A rumble sounded, vibrating the cold concrete alongside the bunk. A small plume of plaster fell like ash from the ceiling. Nate had almost forgotten that the rest of Gathos still existed.
He didn’t want to forget.
Or resign himself to a lifetime of being hand-fed and hosed down and resting and resting and resting to stay fit for Agatha’s machine. His gaze lifted to the chimney—and the wide ventilation grating beside it.
Pixel put her hand against the wall. “Are Reed and Sparks and Brick gonna be okay?” she whispered.
He pulled her close to whisper back, “Maybe we should see for ourselves.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It wasn’t a plan, but it was better than nothing. Better than reconciling Pixel to a childhood spent waiting for her turn to be used up.
“She’ll trust you more than she trusts me, Pix,” Nate whispered. “You have a strong mind for tinkering. Ask her questions. Get her to talk.”
“What if she gets mad at me?” Pixel shivered.
He kissed her cheek. “No one could get mad at you.”
He should have warned her to be careful, but he couldn’t bear to scare her anymore.
Nate tried to stay awake, but the room was so quiet. Juniper snored in her bunk, and Pixel drifted off in his arms, each breath a rhythmic pull that dragged him off to sleep. When he woke up later, Val was gone.
He had no idea how much time had passed.
They settled into a routine. Meals on the floor around a basket of food. Agatha with them more often than not and never following a predictable routine. She worked on the machine, and Juniper hummed songs to herself in her bunk or followed a winding, repetitive path around the room.
Wary of Agatha’s warnings, Nate only explored as far as the waste trench behind a curtain. He didn’t go near the still.
But Pixel did. And he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have had to tell her to. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the working parts of the still. The tubes and wires and intricate glass pipes and nozzles.
Agatha wore a pair of shiny glasses while she worked. The two lenses were mismatched and fastened together at the middle. Distorted by the lens, one eye bulged garishly. She climbed up onto the still, nimble in soft shoes, twisting valves and adjusting gauges. Nate watched her as best he could without hovering over her shoulder like he wanted to. Whenever she glanced at him, he closed his eyes.
Pixel followed Agatha like a shadow.
“What does that part do?” she asked, walking her fingertips along a black tube hanging from a hook.
“These carry the blood. So they’re changed out between sessions. I boil them. Do you know why?”
