The Blood Racer (The Blood Racer Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

              “I’m headed back to the shop,” I told Rigel. “Coming?”
              He shook his head sadly. “I can’t. I need to finish my shift.”
              “Ah. All right. See you later.”
              The crowd was slightly thinner than it had been earlier, but it was still busy enough to make my return walk much slower than it should have been. I gave another look around at the faces, both familiar and strange, to see if I could spot Zanna, but if she was out and about, she wasn’t around cradle number eleven.
              Gradually, I fought my way back to Nichols’ shop and pushed my way in, closing the door behind me. I was very glad that Nichols didn’t run an actual store. Then, I’d have to deal with an endless stream of customers traipsing in and out of the place. Granted, it probably would have pulled in a lot of money, but I really didn’t think it was worth it. I slapped the delivery receipt down on the vacant work table and took my usual seat.
              “Did she tip you?” Nichols asked, looking up from filing a small ring of metal.
              I scoffed. “I don’t believe for a second you thought she would.”
              He grinned, something I didn’t see him do often. I kept forgetting the fact that he was missing several teeth on the left side of his mouth. “Just checking,” he said.
              “I did have an interesting rendezvous with Audra Carina,” I told him. As I predicted, he looked intrigued, so I continued. “She came up on my tail on the way there and started messing with me, challenging me, and stuff. So I had to.”
              He continued filing, but looked up at me from beneath his heavy brow. “Did you win?”
              I sighed. “Her…ship is very fast.”
              “Indeed,” he said with a nod. He ran his file over the metal ring once more before setting it down and getting to his feet. “I entered once. Did I ever tell you that?”
              I looked up at him, suddenly captivated. “What? No, you didn’t! When?”
              He laughed a little and wiped his forehead with an old, grimy cloth from his pocket. “Oh, my dear. It was a long time ago. I wasn’t that much older than you are now.”
              I tried to imagine Nichols as a young man, strong and healthy, full of life, but I couldn’t seem to mentally erase the weary years from his face. “Did you win?” I asked.
              He smiled and shook his head. “No. No, I didn’t. I came very close, but I didn’t win.”
              There was a definite feeling of pride in the back of my mind. Someone I knew had entered the race and, not only did he survive, he almost won. Though, if he lasted until the very end, like he was saying, that brought up another question.
              “How many people did you kill?”
              He looked up at me, his eyes full of what looked like pity. “Child, the race is not exclusively held for sadists and murderers. Surely, you know that.”
              “Oh, I know,” I said, folding my arms. “The rest are victims.”
              Nichols removed his multi-lensed spectacles and began wiping them. “Well, I managed to finish in second place without becoming a killer or a victim. And if I could do that, then there is no doubt in my mind that you could finish first the same way. You could win, dear.”
              I blinked my eyes, suddenly feeling like I had whiplash. The conversation had suddenly turned around on me. “Me? Where did that come from?”
              He grabbed his work stool and brought it over to where I sat.
Oh, boy,
I thought.
Here comes a lecture.
             
Nichols slipped his glasses back on and sighed. “Don’t think I don’t know what goes on in that pretty head of yours, Elana,” he said, his low voice soft. “I know what it is that you fear. And it’s not just the race. It’s tomorrow. And the day after that. And the many that come after that.” He paused. “It’s the same fear I have for you…the future.”
              I swallowed hard. I already didn’t like where this was going.
              “I wish I could be here for you forever,” he said morosely. “But this old body just won’t let me, dear. It won’t be long until I can’t even make a belt buckle or a bottlecap.”
              I rubbed the bridge of my nose, pressing hard on the spot between my eyes. This was indeed something I thought about often, but I always found a way to push the notion from my head. That wouldn’t be so easy this time. “Are you saying I should join the race?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
              Nichols drew in a slow breath through his nose. “I’m saying that options for prosperity are few and far between here, even for someone as talented as you. I know why you would refuse the race. The danger is obvious.” He shifted in his seat, scratching his trimmed white beard as he searched for the right words.
            “Darling, there are a thousand ways to perish in this world. There are countless avenues that lead to despair, and so few that lead to happiness. But this one path, this one avenue could lead you to the deliverance that you crave. I know you would win, Elana. I know it.”
              For some reason, my vision was blurred with tears, and they threatened to spill down my cheeks. I remained silent and blinked at my shoes, breathing slowly until they gradually went away. I didn’t like to think about my life after Nichols retired, or - heaven forbid - died, but I definitely didn’t want to think about entering the race. If something happened to me, there wouldn’t be anyone to care for my brother and sister, and I couldn’t let that happen.
              “Zanna is, um…talking about opening a restaurant,” I said, my voice thick with the latent tears. “She’s a really good cook, you know. It wouldn’t take long for us to save for it. And if it does well, we could even open one in Rainier.” This was all true. Zanna was an excellent cook, and she
had
expressed interest in opening a café of her own. At the time, she’d been talking about the distant future, but if I were to help her, we could do it much sooner.
              Nichols mashed his lips together and nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Well, that’s…something.” He lifted his cap, scratched his grey hair, and replaced it. “I’m sorry to have upset you, dear.”
              I shook my head and forced a reassuring smile. “No, you didn’t. It’s okay.”
              Patting both of his thighs, he got to his feet with a small groan and toted his stool back over to the workbench he had come from. I felt the urge to slip out the door, but there was something else I wanted to ask him, and the mood wouldn’t be so heavy if I changed the subject.
              “Hey,” I called, digging Alice Butterfield’s brooch out of my pocket. “Have you ever heard of something called ‘Helios’?”
              Nichols came to a sudden stop, almost frozen, and then his head slowly swiveled around to look at me. “Yes. Yes, I have.”
              “Really?” I asked, instantly curious. “Where? What is it?”
              “I read about it in a book,” he said, pointing to shelf above him. “You know, those things you would have seen a lot of if the city hadn’t closed down the school years ago.”
              I stared up at the wooden shelf that ran the length of the back wall. It was lined with all sorts of books of all sizes and colors, most of them appearing so old that a stiff breeze would probably turn them to dust. It was true. I had never been to a school. The older people in town remember there being one, but apparently, Adams doesn’t attract the kind of people that are educated enough to be teachers. Those types stay in the more wealthy cities, where they get paid handsomely to pass on their knowledge. Here in Adams, people learned skills to survive: horticulture, mechanics, even working in the plant. These were pretty much the only lessons we passed on through our generations.
             Even though I’d never been in a classroom, my parents had taught me to read and write. Zanna, too. Just about everyone in the Gap had the ability, but I had never really been fond of reading. Besides, books were kind of a rarity in the Dominion, due to the amount of paper needed to print them, and I had never had a real interest in owning them.
              “It was in a book?” I asked. “Which one?”
              “Several of them,” Nichols answered, gesturing to his shelf again. “My dear, each and every one of these books holds a secret just waiting to be discovered.”
              I scoffed and shook my head. “I get it. You like reading.”
              He chortled to himself. “You will too, one day. Also, I don’t have anything else for the day. You’re free to go.”
              I hopped out of my seat and headed for the door. I was aware that he hadn’t paid me, but it sometimes slipped his mind. He would eventually get it to me. He always did.
              “Hold on a moment,” he called from behind me.
              I stopped and turned, hoping for a few tokens, but he simply pulled a long, gnarled smoking pipe from his apron pocket and used it to point to the left side of the door. “That’s for you,” he said, stuffing a small wad of tobacco into the pipe.
              Glancing down, I spotted the small box that he had pointed to. It looked nearly identical to the one I had just delivered to Grace Buchannon. I glanced back up at Nichols as I bent down to retrieve it, but he only watched me with an amused expression on his wizened face. Now slightly wary, wondering just what could be inside, I slowly cracked the lid. When nothing exploded out at me, I tossed it back.
              “Oh,” I said. It was more of an involuntary noise, though. Inside the box, there was pair of goggles, crafted exactly like the ones I had just delivered. They were identical, right down to the finest detail. He had made a second pair just for me.
              “I thought you’d like them.” Suddenly, he was right in front of me. I smelled the robust sweet smoke as it curled around us. It was the same type he always smoked, the same scent that always lingered around him. It was like his own personal fragrance. “They’re yours.”
              I looked up at him, dumbfounded. My mouth was hanging open stupidly as I blinked. “Are you serious?”
              “Of course,” Nichols said, slipping the end of his pipe between his lips. “I made them for you before she radioed me with an order. I had to make a second, more rushed pair to give to her.”
              I took in his words. “So…these are better than Grace’s?”
              He gave me a wink. “Just a hair.”
              Laughter suddenly burst out of me, and I threw my arms around his neck before I had a chance to feel awkward about it. “Thank you so much!” This was most certainly better than the handful of tokens I was expecting for my run. I pulled my old, beat up goggles off of my helmet and slipped the new ones on, bringing them down over my eyes. They fit perfectly.
              Nichols laughed at me, undoubtedly thrilled that his gift was so well received. “They suit you just fine,” he said, patting me gently on the cheek.
              “I have to go show Rigel!” I exclaimed, bolting for the door. As I wrenched it open, I turned to Nichols once more.
              “You’re welcome,” he said, speaking before I had a chance to.
              I laughed and closed the door behind me, jogging merrily into the crowd toward the docks. I searched for a bit, but I couldn’t find Rigel anywhere. He must have been swamped. Rather than let the masses spoil my mood, I decided to head home to see Zanna. That was most likely where she was. I wanted to give her my old goggles, which had originally belonged to our father. Knowing that, I was positive she would love to have them.
              Still in relatively high spirits, I jogged through town and across the causeway, not even letting the banner or sight of the plant bring me down. In just a moment, I was barging through my front door and into the main room, where Zanna was sitting with Echo. From the looks of the chalk on the grimy walls, they had been drawing together. Quickly, she wiped away the picture as I burst in.
              “Hey, guess what!” I said excitedly.
              She and Echo both stared up at me, their faces frozen in surprise and confusion.
              “I got new goggles!” I pointed to the ones resting on top of my helmet. When there was still no reaction, I held up my old pair. “I wanted to give you these,” I said to my sister. “They were dad’s, remember?”
              With her eyes locked on them, Zanna stood up and gingerly took the goggles in her hands, cradling them like they were a frail baby bird. After staring at them for a moment, she hugged them tightly to her chest, and I felt a stab of pity for her. She missed our father so much. It hurt me to see it in her.
              “Thank you,” she whispered.
              I gingerly rubbed her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
              She immediately adjusted the strap and placed them over her head, using them to hold back her long dark hair.
              “They suit you just fine,” I said with a smile. “Hey, you should take them to the docks. There’s a ton of people from out of town there. Everybody is down there selling stuff. Whip up some of your veggies and we’ll go. I’ll help you.”
              Zanna’s smile faltered at my suggestion, and she looked away. “Um…I can’t. I don’t…have anything prepared.”
              I shrugged. “That’s okay. We’ll just take them raw. We can charge way less than Rainier, and we’ll still make a lot of money.”
              A sound of exasperation emerged from her. “No, I don’t…think that’ll work.”
              “Why not?” I asked, a little annoyed at her refusal to earn some tokens. “Those people will buy it, I’m telling you.”