Chapter 19

Sevina

We’re wasting time.

Corrin’s been working for two weeks now and overall we’ve been living in this hideout for almost three months. And we’re still here while Will might be in trouble, while people might be dying. And I could stop it. I could help them. If I would get off my ass and do something that would bring us closer to finding Dan and Corrin’s father.

But all I’ve done was think about managing forty-lives a day. I practiced my focus in recent weeks whenever I looked someone in the eyes— concentrating on things I want to or expect to find. And, indeed, it is way easier when I’m readied and prepared, versus looking accidentally.

Thankfully, in those accidental cases Corrin unwittingly aided me too. At least, his memory did. Whenever I was forced to meet someone’s eyes without focus, whenever the load for my chest was too heavy I would think of his mother and the kite— by now I thought about it so much I learned the memory— the love and warmth of that evening in the mansion’s yard. It didn’t aid me as well as it did Corrin, but it was better than clinging to the painful experiences in my real life and pretending the memory of Rovy and Mrs. Brice was positive. Love, friendship— yes, it was, laced with indescribable regret and guilt, and shame at myself for being a coward. So Corrin’s mother it was.

Despite being able to focus the other problem I face is the quantity of the lives and accumulating toll they take on me. Sure as hell Corrin’s memory won’t be enough when deeds and sins of over forty men pile on top of each other in my head. And to even achieve that Corrin and I need to begin working together. We cannot afford the time for me to grow stronger as it takes longer than I anticipated. And these mobsters, men of different ages. I’m supposed to go and take the package. How to get that blasted look? And if I begin drawing guns at each one. What then?

Corrin’s not training me as much since he’s started working and been returning tired. Our progress is halting and it’s getting on my nerves.

But I have to do something. I could wing it. Finally do it because the toll of staying useless grows more painful to bear than the pain of my powers, even if I still look like a reject with a low hung head.

“Hi.” I catch Terrel in his server room—a four by four located behind the room he first interrogated us in. Besides occasionally making out with Aida he rarely lets people in here, but I know his routine well so I stumble in before he does all the arrangements. “When can I begin working?”

Terrel crosses his arms on his chest and leans on the table in front of me. “First tell me about the crack.”

I gape. I thought he let it go. “I found it in some container when I left. It wasn’t crack—”

“Left where?”

Fishing for excuses, I inspect a big server box behind him, cords and wires running from it into the socket in the wall— older models. The newest tech has wireless chargers. “I… poked around the corridors.” My chin dips but I force it higher. I can’t pin it on the kids, nor on Corrin, though I doubt the kids would be punished. “I did it because Corrin was feeling bad. He was barely holding and I—”

Terrel lifts his hand. “I get it.”

I raise my head enough to see Terrel’s shoulders. Corrin’s the one I’ve grown comfortable with to fully look at. I even lift my chin so to talk to him, but around other people my head still hangs and all I see are their torsos.

My eyes are my own… so are my actions as Corrin said.

“Terrel. I can work,” I state, throwing my eyes to his forehead for a short second. Huh, not that scary after all. “I got nothing to do with what’s happening.” I didn’t want to look at him… and I didn’t. Perhaps everything seemed more horrifying in my mind when I was a child.

How can I speed all this up? Terrel’s servers might be useful; order arrangements, information that might have Dan’s name in it.

I should practice anyway.

I catch Terrel’s eyes for a brief second before he takes a seat behind his desk. “I believe you, but no. Aida doesn’t trust you yet, and you’re far too weak, when not on crack. And with all those recent attacks…”

“Okay.” Some eyes are easy to capture, such as Quint’s, or Corrin’s. Some, like Terrel’s are near impossible unless he lingers on me first. Explicit stares are out of the question either, they make it awkward and usually imply a deeper prejudice— romantic or vile.

Terrel peeks at me beneath thick eyebrows, hoping for something else as I’ve been standing silent.

I totter in place, focusing on computers. Jobs. Codes. Names. Morning routine. I need that.

“Ow,” I cringe.

“What is it?” He drops his shoulders, worn, but concerned.

“There’s something in my eye. Crap, hurts.” Rubbing my eye I let my face twist in fake pain.

“Mind taking a quick look?”

“Sure.” He stands. It’s somewhat funny seeing this muscular man with an appalling scar on his neck and a dozen earrings come closer and lean above my face, inspecting. The information spills into my brain.

Got it. Keep it. Steady.

“There’s nothing,” he says.

“Must’ve fallen out.” I refrain from rubbing my temples. “You sure you can’t take me at least on one run?”

Terrel’s shoulders slump with a sigh. “No, Sevina. Not yet. You’re free to go.”

As soon as I step out I dash to my room. I pull out my pad, focusing on combinations and codes of the computers. It’s messy. Like trying to have a photographic memory. And even with my twenty minutes of clearly remembering most of the person’s life the micro details always evaporate first.

Terrel types them in every morning. Collections of numbers.

Half of them evaporate before I jot them down. I’ll need another, profoundly focused look. I have to cling to those imaginary expectations of certain things like a dog to a bone.

Looks like I’ll have to get on Terrel’s nerves one more time before he leaves, keep my head higher and speak of another topic. For starters I’ll ask him to wash the cars instead of doing laundry and cooking.

…

I’m loitering in the shadows between the kitchen and the bathrooms. To conserve the power lights in the corridors are dim. All the gangers, when they return back from work, pass through here.

Voices spill from around the corner and a shorthaired girl and a guy take a turn into my corridor; both tall, light-haired and with features akin. Must be Moira and her brother. They fall silent when they see me.

“Wait, it’s her, who Aida said might be a rat.” The guy halts.

My pulse quickens. “I’m not.”

“Should we drag her out and ask her?” His sister stops too. “Since Terrel’s a pussy.”

Shit.

“Guys, I’m not a rat.” I slouch against the wall. My muscles burn, ready to make a run for it. Both siblings flank me.

“What about the attacks? You know anything about that?” Moira leans in.

It won’t repeat itself. They won’t beat me… “I came here before the attacks.”

Multiple steps echo from the depths of the hall and Corrin and Terrel round the corner. Using the moment whilst siblings have their heads turned I slip out, hardly containing my relief.

“Leave her alone,” Terrel growls as he strides, giving me and the siblings a frown, clearly not in the mood. Moira and her brother follow him, disappearing into the darkness.

Corrin rests his hand on my shoulder. “You alright? Did they—”

I pull him into the girl’s bathroom and close the door. “No, I’m fine, you two came in time.” I take a moment to shed the sensation of possible beating, letting a wave of shivers pass my body. “Anything new?” I grasp my pad from under my shirt.

“Nah.” Corrin leans on the door with his shoulder and rubs half of his face. “Warehouses, again. I just want to sleep.”

I lift my pad, clutching in front of my chest, and whisper. “I got into the server room and linked to Terrel’s servers with my pad. He won’t discover it for a while. I messed with the servers a little. The jobs are arranged a couple days prior, thus I rearranged some meetings for us alongside the others.”

Corrin frowns, processing, then gapes. “Why did you do that?” He thrusts his head forward. “You’re not ready. And how are we going to do that anyway?”

“We’ll steal a car.”

“Steal… steal a car?” He opens his palms, a vexed expression on his face.

“I memorized as much as I could. We don’t have time to waste. I want to finish this as fast as I can. Will might be dead for all I know. So can other people.”

Corrin slumps against the wall with a dull thump of his back. “Oh, boy...”

Urging to explain my rash actions I step in front of him. “Terrel isn’t taking me out anytime soon. I almost just got beaten, no one trusts me here. I’m in the same place as I was when we got here three months ago. It’ll take me forever to begin working. And there’s nothing like real-life situations to teach you things, as Aida says. It took me four looks to gather all the info. Terrel basically thinks I have hots for him or that I’m a total wacko.”

“What if we don’t find anybody. If no one has any ties to my father?” Corrin flicks his eyes at me. “How are we going to return here without blowing our cover?”

“Perhaps… we don’t have to keep it,” I shrug. “They might be able to help us if we tell them the deal and who we really are. This gang is falling apart. Other gangs know it. They’re growing bold, intimidating us with their attacks. Terrel needs something to save it. I imagine Dan would be gracious to whoever helped his brother. To whoever helped him take his father’s chair.”

Corrin rubs the back of his neck, at a loss. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too bold?”

“Bold is better, sometimes.”

“Sounds weird coming from you.”

I squeeze my pad. I had to come up with a quicker solution and I did. “What else can we do? We made a deal. I’m using my powers, just like we agreed. I’m terrified, but I’m doing something. I can’t sit and wait.” He’s silent and I carefully imply. “It’s as if you don’t want to do this at all.”

“I do.” His face grows grim. “But I’m worried, Sev.”

“Over what?”

He looks at me for two long seconds, as if expecting me to understand. “I’m worried over you. I just began working. I’m still dealing with things, I can’t guarantee I’ll protect you all the time.”

“You don’t have to,” my words reek with fear, of all shapes and sizes. It’s even scary to admit that if it really came down to it, maybe, just maybe now I could protect myself. I touch Corrin’s upper arm to reassure him. “As you are now, it’s enough.”

He exhales. “All-right. I’m in.”

Perhaps, I’m too bold. There are thousands of people working. I arranged as many jobs as I could, but what are the chances we’ll stumble into the member of Corrin’s family on the first day? Worst case scenario someone will’ve heard of the Kaynes family. The name is not uncommon. Once I have it, I’ll find the face and the place. And we’ll go from there.

…

At night I secretly change my outfit into a black and tight one that I dig out from the closet not far from our rooms. I tuck the black handgun I was carrying since the beginning of my training into the back of my pants, shrug on my jacket and tie my hair into a short ponytail because a knot keeps slipping.

I meet Corrin by the bathrooms at four in the morning. We sneak past the med room to a bunch of stairs and to a narrow decrepit hangar. The larger half of the building above our hideout consists of gridded giant pipes and ventilation shafts; must’ve been a support and tech unit.

Corrin leads me over the catwalk and through the doors to yet another, smaller hangar with eight vehicles— five medium-sized rusty vans, three jeeps and one sedan—all older models.

“Do you think it’ll take them long to figure out we stole it?” Corrin stops by a dark cherry van.

“Probably not.” Near the door handle I swipe my cellphone over a little scanner. I downloaded the access codes to the car and all the other data from Terrel’s computer. Most vehicles need fingerprints or codes to open the doors, and a key to start the engine. Palm prints and retinal scans are prevalent too. But no matter the number of scanners, all it boils down to is how well encrypted your system is. This van doesn’t have any. Access codes and keys in the glove department— all the security there is.

I upload Terrel’s data to the car’s console and disable the tracking system, recalling programming basics. It’s not hard as it was one of the classes I actually liked. And whatever knowledge I might’ve lacked I made sure to jot down and remember from Terrel’s head either way. “I’m with you and all.” Corrin fastens his seatbelt and starts the engine. “But please, do tell me if you ever going to do something like this again.”

“Okay.” I press the button on the van’s console for the bay door to open. We pull into a shaded alley. I tell Corrin the address of the first contact who’s supposed to meet us at the corner of the shabby parkway of Clare’s island. Then on my digital pad I review my list of delivery jobs. “Uh, now that I look at it I didn’t arrange the meetings quite neatly.” Meaning time loss and power inefficiency.

“Don’t worry about it.” Despite his words Corrin’s knuckles whiten as he squeezes the wheel, a suppressed sign of panic. Then, his eyes on the road, he talks me through the meeting. “You never leave until he turns away first. And make certain when you stand they see me. Never ask for money, if he doesn’t give any, means there’s another transaction.”

“Got it,” I nod.

“The way we appear gives them the impression of the gang and whether we are worth hiring again. Oh, and if they don’t look at you, don’t push.”

“I won’t.”

“And—”

“I got it, Corrin. Mob families rule and provide for the gangs, keep the cops off of us. I’ll be careful. I remember how you guys act.”

Corrin shuffles in his seat dreadfully. “Aren’t you nervous?”

“I am. But you’re not helping.”

“Right, sorry.”

Thirty minutes after we reach the destination a brown sedan stops further away from our van, delaying our schedule by fifteen minutes. A dark-skinned man in his forties leans on his rusty car, turning his head to us.

“You can do this,” Corrin assures me. I control my eyes and my actions…

I clear my throat and stiffly slide out from the van, putting on my best appearance of an experienced badass. I have to do this.

As I trudge across the street the man’s eyebrows quirk. We’re on Clare’s island and sleepy people slog through fog-bathed streets. No one cares about us. This kind of exchange happens all the time.

Relatively calm, I hold my head level, but I think I should trudge with more confidence. I straighten and widen my steps. Being a woman has its advantage as the man’s narrow eyes are trained on me. Shouldn’t have widened my steps. My fingers curl and I fight off the upcoming fidget.

Kaynes family, Kaynes. Kaynes—I repeat in my mind as I go. He keeps looking. I look back.

One. Two. Three.

“Variety,” a rather friendly voice comes out of him as he extends me a small white envelope. I’d vomit from all his misdeeds if not for the dead concentration on Kaynes. “You better tell your man to deliver it.” He glances over my shoulder at Corrin.

“Yes.” He turns his back to me and I return to the van. “Nothing,” I sigh as I shut the door.

“At all?”

“No.”

“And the life? Is it bad?” Corrin prods.

“I won’t talk about it.”

“You sure—”

“Corrin.”

“All right, sorry.”

I examine the parcel. “What is this anyway?”

Corrin starts the van and carefully asks. “Didn’t you just see?”

“It was already packaged when he got it, I think. I wasn’t paying attention. But he’s from some other family that owns some dirty businesses. Some shops.” I rotate the package in my hands. “He might’ve delivered it himself.”

“Bosses don’t want the packages to be on record. Lots of things might go wrong—”

“One of the reasons why we’re here. To take the blame if something goes wrong. Just as homeless take the blame for us, I know.” I put the package into the back through a flickering dark holographic partition, shielding the insides of the van. For some reason this van has a holo. I guess, they install what they find.

By the midday, the car’s receiver counts fifteen messages from Terrel, ranging from questions to threats. All a multiplying load on our nerves, but all left ignored.

Most of the contacts are the least engrossed by seeing me so I have no problem snatching a look. So far only four —two of which were women— were uninterested, leaving me to hope they weren’t the ones needed.

After seeing the twentieth man I roll my seat backward and lie back. My head stings as if two needles were lodged into my temples, yet I try to keep myself on Kaynes.

But there are so many of them. So many things all these people did and can do… So many options, pictures, experiences… Things I could do or anyone else could. One thing I’m sure of. The name Kaynes or Dan wasn’t mentioned and no faces rang as familiar. Just how many families share this city? How many people work in one family for no one of them to ever hear the name Kaynes?

Corrin taps on the wheel. “We can skip a few guys, I’ll go instead. Maybe, I’ll just ask them.”

Rubbing my temples, I chuckle. We both know it’s not going to happen. “No. I arranged this, I have to finish this.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to exhaust yourself.”

“Don’t I?” I tilt my face at the blue sky and let the sun heat my shut eyelids. All colors of the neon kite glister at the edge of my mind. “That’s what I agreed to do.” It’s foreign to cling so Corrin’s happy memory. Something I’ve never experienced. A secret possession that is not mine. Not just that. Every bit of Corrin’s experience pushes me forward in ways no one ever has. His resilience, his cause, his belief… in me. There is a way to learn. If five months ago I couldn’t imagine myself looking at anyone else but Rovy, now it seems how I ever looked so little. But all that keeps me on my feet doesn’t belong to me. All of it— is stolen.

I straighten, but my back slumps again. “I’m forgetting how Dan looks like. I need you to look at me.” Corrin has described Dan a few times, the way he acts and talks, but to be sure I have to know his face. Corrin turns his torso to me, hesitant. “Come on, I’m tired, just do it.” His eyebrows arch at my harshness and I reel myself in. “Sorry.” I’m asking to surrender his identity to me. Being rude is not a proper way to do it.

“I’ll look.” He reaches for my shoulder. “Just take in some deep breaths.” Worry slithers into his face and his palm jumps to my forehead. “You’re hot.”

I take his cool hand off my head. “It happens when I look.”

Reluctantly, he leans closer to my face. In front of me his eyes blur into the sky and the sea and then millions and millions of moments, twisting and molding into endless torment and endless battle for survival. And the crudest war in existence— the war with oneself.

I pull away, flinching and drawing breaths through my nose. At least I got Dan’s face.

Corrin camouflages his pity under a poor attempt at poker-face. “When I’m back into my family and all is done, we can bring you to some lab and dispose of that,” he suggests, his eyebrows curling.

Disoriented, I linger on his nose and on the stubble on his cheeks. Could I even imagine my life without my…bane?

Corrin twists his head at a gray sedan, skidding into the sunlit alley. We’ve been waiting for half an hour. The door flies open and a woman gets out.

My world sharpens as we both suck in air, our eyes widening.

It’s Will.