Down and Out: A Young Adult Dystopian Adventure (The Undercity Series Book 1) (12 page)

“No, no, He’s fine. It’s another problem.”

“The kid?” she asked, thrusting a finger Teddy’s way, and he backed up. “I told you to hide ‘im, charming thing that he is.”

He had an urge to bathe as she scrutinized him.

“No, Georges, it’s not Teddy either.” His father leaned forward and caught her gaze. “You heard about the cave-in, yes?”

The Upperlord groaned and collapsed back in a listless heap. “Uhgh, Peterson, of course.” She guzzled more wine. “It rumbled through Uppercity the instant it happened. You know as well as I do, no one up here is going to help. You must petition the council like every other Underling.”

“Georges, you’re not listening.”

“No, Peterson, I’m not.” She drank again and burped.

“We’ve had this conversation before. You seem to think I’m more concerned than I am and you seem to think you can hold that against me. Well, you can’t. I’m as rotten as the rest of those rotten buggers, including my sister, who tell you what you can and can’t do, and don’t give a damn what happens to anyone else as long as they get their little piece of this pathetic society you call a world. So, you are whining to the wrong person. I’m scum and so is everyone else. You are talking to the wrong person.” She hiccupped and lay back down, burying her head in a pillow.

Henri yanked the cushion away, pulling Georges back up to a sitting position. She stared at him, stunned.

“You converted my puffy bear,” she protested. “You made a brute out of him. How dare you? I gave him to you ‘cause you were supposed to save him from such a fate.”

“Don’t dismay, Georges, he’s still a puffy bear he’s just done watching people die.” Pa sat back with his usual grin back on his face. “You are a fake, Georges; you might hide in cynicism, but you are soft inside and you know it.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Georges objected with a pout.

“We don’t need much from you at the moment; we just need some food.”

The Upperlord narrowed her eyes as he studied Pa. “That’s all? You’re hungry? Well, no problem. The larder’s over in the corner. Go snack on a cookie or something.” She flopped back down again. “I think you might even find a few potatoes too. I’m not too fond of edibles, so there isn’t much, but indulge in something.”

“We don’t need a snack; we need food, Georges, as much food as we can get.  I have a family to feed.”

Georges opened an eye, wide and buggy, and stared at him.  “Oh, hell, you’re serious.”

“Yes, Georges, I am.”

“What can you give me?”

His father brought out a hand-sized drawstring sack from his jacket. “How about these?” He poured out an assortment of jewellery across the table.

“Oh, double hell with pickles,” she muttered under her breath. “Where did you get those?” She tugged a necklace from the pile and the gold chain shimmered in the candlelight. “I haven’t seen anything this good in years. There hasn’t been anything this good in ages. Even Madame Belle has run out of pieces of such worth. Where?”

“We scrounged it.”

“You scrounged it.” Georges nodded. “This kind of thing is not something you dig out of this pit of a world. I know. Anything worthwhile was collected years ago. Where are you getting this? Is there more? This is quality, Peterson, this... this... this is why you wanted a brute, isn’t it? You found a trove, and you need a brute to protect it, and I gave you the puppy brute. Damn.” She thrust her boney body up from the couch and paced, running her fingers through her hair and tugging at her arms.

“Damn, damn. This is dangerous. Don’t you understand? People here will take this from you without giving anything in return. They don’t want you up here, Peterson. I told you before; they don’t want anyone else up here, not even each other. They’re greedy and bored. They will take you and your family apart if they even suspect you found something extraordinary.”

“Calm yourself, Georges. I understand.” Pa got up and put a hand on Georges’ arm. “This is why I came to you. I need your assistance. This is a down payment. Between you and me we can manoeuvre this so nobody will realize anything until it is too late, but for now, I need food.”

“Oh, hell, Tru, you’re trusting me.” She threw a hand above her head. “That is such a bad idea. Why, how can you even think confiding in me is a good idea?”

“Because I know you, Georges. I know you better than you want me to, and you know that. You don’t like this world any more than I do. The only difference is you gave up searching for a solution whereas I still believe in the possibility of a new life. So, I trust you. I have to. This is the truth. My allies are rare, and you have always been good to me. You possess a heart. You hide in a bottle and pretend you’re terrible. Well, this is your chance to be what you are, a good person.”

“Bite your tongue,” Georges shouted, horrified. “That is a lie, a horrible lie... oh, hell....” Her words petered off as she slumped in defeat. “Fine. I don’t believe you, but I’ll humour you for now.”

“Thank you.”

“Wait here. I’ll... I’ll see what I can do.”

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W
hat a dump. That was the best compliment Teddy could come up with for Georges’ place. In the past hour, while they waited, he searched through bags of bottles, stacks of illegible notes, and too many piles of soiled clothing.

“Pa? Is this what Upperlords do? Drink and make a mess?”

His father twirled a decanter in his hand. “I’m afraid so. Well, at least, that’s what Georges does. I don’t know too much about the others except for rumours from cleaning staff and such.”

“Where do they get all the alcohol? I thought the original stash of booze ran out several years ago.”

“This is filth brewed by Upperlords, themselves.” He peered closer at the words scrawled across the label. “In fact, I think this might be Georges own stock. It is most often made by potatoes.”

“I’m sick of potatoes,” Teddy sighed and stared out the window at the wall of dirt.

“Me too,” agreed Henri, his chin resting on his hands.

“I get they are the staple of our lives because they are simple to grow in this underground prison, and they make flour...”

“Alcohol,” his father added.

“Soup,” Henri said.

Teddy put his head on his hands. “Okay, yes, you can use them for almost anything, but don’t you ever imagine what an apple pie would be like?”

Their brute blinked and stroked his chin. “What’s an apple?”

“It’s a round, crisp... thing... fruit.” He struggled to answer what he had only read about. “They’re good, or so I read.”

“You depend on too many books, my boy,” Pa said, patting him on the leg. “What is the point of craving something you only read about? All that does is make one pine for what they don’t own and hate what they need.”

“I could devour potato raw now,” Henri sighed, rubbing his stomach.

“Or fried. Tisha makes wonderful fried potatoes with a spiced portion of dried chicken mixed in. Not always easy to find spices, so she saves it for special occasions.”

“I like it when she shreds carrots in them too,” Teddy admitted as he gave in and realized he would inhale almost anything edible to stop his stomach from complaining.

“How we get chickens?” Henri asked. “They pets at first, like dogs and cats, or what?”

“My old teacher said when they planned out the domed city designed to save everyone and everything, they had different sections devoted to other animals, but they all collapsed aside from three greenhouses and the chicken farm,” Teddy explained, trying to ignore the knots convulsing his stomach. Fatigue and hunger made him a little punchy. “Some people eat them.”

“Chickens, yes we know, Ted,” Pa said.  “You eat them yourself.”

“No, cats and dogs.”  He yawned until his jaw cracked.

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Fish trapped a couple of mutts the other day and is going to try to breed them. She’s hoping to get into the meat market and make pelts out of the fur. She thought about trying to breed Critter and Stub, but apparently they’re getting too old.”

Somehow the idea nauseated Teddy. The dogs were not his favourite friends, but they loved the family. Plus, he read too many stories about people and their faithful pets, and always thought it wasn’t a good plan to eat the one you love.

Henri exhaled, his barrel chest deflating. “I want one when young. Wanted one to play with and be with. Didn’t have anyone else after Keme left and they... petable, kittens too, petable.” He made a motion as though he was stroking an animal.

“I think we’re all getting sleepy,” his father said, yawning too. “I’m going to raid her stores and see if I can’t come up with something to give us a little energy.”

“Henri, what happened to your family?” Teddy asked after his father went into another room.

The brute stared with bleary eyes before hugging himself. “Don’t think ever had any. I get I had beginning, baby me, but I shift from person to person. Then no one. Just me. Others died or disappeared, or stopped finding me useful.”

Teddy understood. “Yeah, never liked being shuffled about much.”

“You too, huh? They not parents?”

“Not my original parents,” Teddy admitted. “They’re the first people to stay, though, and they don’t ask anything of me. I help out of want, not their need.”

“Good people,” he said, staring after Pa. “Sensed that; good people.” He turned toward Teddy with hope lurking in his eyes. “They keep me?”

He whacked the brute in the shoulder. “I told you, we don’t own you; we hired you.”

Henri frowned at this.

“Yes, Henri, they will keep you for as long as you want.”

A grin blossomed on his face. “K.”

“How about some beets and eggs?” his father asked as he rejoined them with two plates piled high with food.

The aroma almost put Teddy on the floor as he salivated. “Beets? Oh, yes. I haven’t had beets in ages.” He got up and took the plates from his father and distributed them. Pa handed each one of them a fork, grinning.

“Let’s not concern ourselves with manners, boys. Dig in.”

Henri chuckled, and Teddy grinned, taking in a giant mouth full. The flavour was fantastic, sweet and juicy, and they devoured the lot in moments. Full, they sat back, rubbing their bellies.

“Is there some we can bring everyone else, some beets or something?” he asked, feeling a trace guilty knowing they were hungry back at Undercity.

His father was about to answer when a commotion at the door cut him off, and Georges burst in pushing a cart filled with sacks.

“All right, you thieves and scroungers. Here’s the deal.” She parked her load and flopped in a chair, whipping her hair out of her way. “I give you this food, and you take me to where you got this treasure.”

Teddy turned to his father. They needed the supplies, but taking an Upper to the mall was a risk.

His father sat back and pondered Georges.

“Come now, Tru, you don’t have much choice. I promise I will keep everything a secret. I want to understand what I’m getting myself into. You’re asking a lot of me.” She flourished a hand toward the cart.

“This is a risk. Purchases such as this get noticed, and people ask questions. I don’t own brutes. Never wanted ‘em; never needed ‘em. My sister deals with those issues. Now you ask me to take risks, and I believe I deserve to know what I’m letting myself in for.”

After a moment, Pa nodded. “Fine.”

“Pa.”

His father put up a hand. “I know, Teddy, but change doesn’t come without risk, and she’s right, we have no choice.”

“Good,” Georges clapped her hands together and rubbed them. “Now, let’s go before I rethink this or Duras comes back and squeals to my sister.”

She shoved the cart. “Henri, if you wouldn’t mind. My old back has had enough of experiencing hard labour.”

As Teddy held the door open, the brute passed with the mound of food—at least enough for a week if not two.

“Ma will love this.”

Pa shook hands with Georges. “Let’s hope so.”

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“C
arrots, carrots, carrots,” a happy Deb shouted as she danced about the cart when they got back. “And eggs, oh eggs. Ma? Scrambled? I adore them scrambled.” She ran over to Georges and attached herself to the Upper lord’s bony knees.

“Thank you, thank you. My tummy says thank you.”

Georges managed a crooked smile and detached her. “Yes, well, your tummy’s welcome. Um, erg, child.”

“Deb, her name is Deb,” their mother said, her voice testy. She was not pleased to see an Upperlord in their home, but the load of food made her more receptive despite herself.

“Yes, love, I’ll scramble the eggs.” She gave her a gentle, but firm shove toward the back rooms. “Now, wake your brother and sister. I’ll get this all going and we’ll feast.”

“Yah,” she cheered and dashed from the room.

“I thought Jolon was getting the stashes ready,” Teddy said to his father.

“He was,” Ma said. She put her hands on her hips and frowned at each one of them in turn. “I don’t know what you four are planning, but I sent him back to bed. What? Were you going to drop off the food and leave me a note? It’s a good thing Deb only sleeps for ten minutes at a time, or I would have woken up to an empty house.”

Pa swept her up in his arms despite her protests. “Tisha, my love, all will be well; you’ll see.” He wiped her cheek and gave her a kiss.

“Oh, yes, you brought an Upperlord into my house. Sorry, Georges, but I don’t have much use for your kind at the moment.”

She bowed. “Don’t fear, my dear, I don’t have much use for my kind at any time, so we both agree.”

Her words did not quite remove the disapproval from their mother’s countenance, but Georges did manage to elicit the hint of a grin. “Fine. You get ready, and I’ll make you some food.”

“We’ve eaten,” Teddy admitted though he regretted speaking as her attention went to him.

“Oh, you have?  Eating with the posh Upperlords now?  Well, I shall feed the others a humbler fare, shall I?”

“The meal was humble, Ma. Don’t be mad. Pa cooked, and we were so hungry.”

“Yes, and they didn’t even offer me any,” Georges said, sighing with a most sorrowful pout.