“Where are the stars?” I asked.
“Light pollution. You can’t see them as well in the city. I hadn’t known what star-gazing was until the lights went out in D.C.”
“Can you believe people used to travel to space?” I said.
“The hubris of man,” Cipher remarked. “Always wanting to discover new frontiers.”
“We’re doing the same, in a way. Do you think Promised Land is real?”
“I hope so. I’d like to find a place where we can put down roots.”
“But I thought you were a lone wanderer, Mr. Mysterious.”
“I like my alone time, but I wouldn’t mind having a little help taking care of you knuckleheads. Being able to sleep at night knowing you’re safe.”
“Are you tired now?” I asked. He didn’t sleep nearly enough. The bags under his eyes were always there, at times more prominent than others. “You can rest too, you know. You don’t always have to keep watch.”
“That’s when they get you, Kitten, as soon as you let down your guard.”
Maybe it was true, but the stress couldn’t be good for him. I circled one arm around his waist, and he rested his cheek on my head.
“This is our escape plan.” He gestured to the series of metal ladders below us, and it reminded me of the obstacle courses my brother and I used to build. Our mother had hated it, always terrified we’d break a bone, then die from our injuries.
“In case there’s a fire?” I asked.
“Yeah or any other situation where we’d need to get the fuck out of here fast.”
I waited for him to tell me about the fire at The Admiral that caused him, Artemis, and Gizmo to leave D.C. and travel here, but he didn’t, so instead I asked, “What will you do for a job?”
The desk lady had said we had a month to find employment and the video said the same. Otherwise, our ration cards wouldn’t renew. There were several rules, including daily med checks in the building’s front lobby, along with many more restrictions that I didn’t understand, but it was made clear to us that “living off the government” wasn’t an option.
“I don’t plan for us to be here that long,” Cipher said.
“You think you’ll find bullets by then?”
“All I need is gunpowder and shells, and I can make my own.”
“And my brother?” I asked hopefully.
“I’ll start looking for him tomorrow.”
“I can help you.”
“I’d rather you stay here with the crew, help them along.”
The idea of finding Santiago filled me with hope, but going back to Greenville without Cipher and the gang didn’t feel right.
“What do you think of Atlanta so far?” I asked Cipher.
“It’s like any other city. Too many cops and too many rules. Those ration cards they gave us have GPS trackers embedded in them, according to Gizmo, something they didn’t tell us, and God knows what other ways they’re watching us.” He glanced back toward our room. “They probably have cameras in every corner of this building.”
“What happens if they catch us doing something bad?”
“They might ship us off to a factory farm to slaughter animals or an oil rig or a canning factory, wherever there’s a need for cheap labor. That’s why I don’t want to stay here for too long. It’s all a trap. Even those shots they gave you. How do we know for sure what it was? They could be shooting you up with some experimental vaccine, then waiting to see if you get sick.” He paused there and took a drag from his cigarette. “You can’t trust the government, Kitten. You can’t trust anyone.”
“I trust you,” I said, my voice sounding a bit wobbly. There were so many things I didn’t know or understand. It made me feel vulnerable and a little bit scared.
He turned to me and nodded. “I’m glad. I don’t mean to worry you. These are just my sleep-deprived thoughts.” He dragged one hand down his face, looking haggard and worn. “The thing is, I can’t tell if my concerns are rational or if it’s just my paranoia that’s making me crazy. In Rabid Country, I knew what the threats were, and I could protect you. In here, I’m not so sure that I can.”
