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“How’s your hand?” Dayo yawned as they exited the bunker into the bright morning sunlight.
Gered zipped up his jacket, somehow feeling safer for the action. Flexing his fingers, he held up his hand for Dayo to see. Bruising and some swelling scattered over the knuckles, but: “It’s fine.”
“You need anything for it?” Dayo peered at it.
“Put something cold on it last night,” he reassured.
“I didn’t think Zelig was really stupid enough to challenge.” Dayo scrubbed a hand over his head, bringing it down to rub his eyes.
“Are you okay this morning?” Gered raised an eyebrow.
Mid-morning more like, and Dayo had come in after he’d already gone to bed.
Dayo shrugged. “Found a card game after the fights.”
And probably something stronger than a cigarette. Gered tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. What Dayo did on his own time was his business, and he never let it interfere with unit business.
“Save anything from the fights?”
Dayo scoffed. “Have some faith in me, why don’t you?”
Gered lifted a shoulder with a doubtful expression. Dayo shoved him and Gered stumbled a few steps with a smirk.
“I don’t remember what I did with your share then.”
Gered huffed a laugh. Even if that were true, there was nothing around worth spending money on.
They reached the tower and jogged up the steps inside. Breakfast had long been cleared. The kitchen didn’t care about units oversleeping. They grabbed nutrient bars and water instead.
“Your brake pads are changed out, by the way.” Gered pushed the bar into his pocket.
“How late did you stay in the garage?” Dayo asked before drinking half his water in a long gulp, not quite disguising his returning concern.
Dayo had his ways of keeping busy, and Gered had his.
Gered shifted a little as he slowly undid the cap. “The drifter did it actually. She came down to check her bike and ended up helping.”
“Really?” Dayo lowered the bottle and looked at him in surprise. Everyone knew the garage was Gered’s territory. Even Dayo rarely bothered him down there. “I guess she is Itan. Probably has the knack for it.” Dayo finished off his water, tossed the bottle, and grabbed a new one.
Like me. “Yeah. She might even be able to keep up with all your maintenance requests.”
Dayo rolled his eyes as they headed out of the mess hall.
“Gered.” A voice halted them in the atrium.
Tension rushed through Gered and his hand twitched down toward the pistol on his left leg. He eased it into a fist instead as Rosche stepped down from the stairs.
“I was going to come looking for you.”
“Sir.” Gered nodded.
Dayo had gone still beside him.
“Dayo.” Rosche flicked a glance over to him.
“Sir.” Dayo added a salute.
“Both of you, walk with me.” Rosche headed out the main doors and Gered and Dayo hurried to catch up. Gered slid on his sunglasses, another bit of armor in place, like maybe they could make Rosche forget the skills displayed openly in the blue in his eyes.
“I saw your challenge last night, Gered.”
The words caught him off guard. Rosche had been there? But maybe it wasn’t surprising. Rosche always knew everything, and there were nooks and crannies in every building where someone could lurk unnoticed.
He glanced over to the posts in the main courtyard. Empty. The rider had served the sentence set and was probably in the tower’s med center getting taken care of.
“Efficient as always.”
“Thank you, sir.” The words dug their way from his mouth.
“Do you think Zelig will challenge you again?” Rosche asked, a bit of concerned curiosity in his eyes.
“He seemed to accept the defeat yesterday.”
Zelig had still looked pissed as Gered left the fights, but within the rules of the arena, Gered was the clear winner. And Zelig would have to be extra stupid to keep challenging him if that rider was the strongest he could send after Gered.
Rosche hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve no doubt you can take care of it if he does. But come to me if something else happens.”
Gered hated the almost paternal concern in Rosche’s voice. Like he really cared. Severi would do the same thing, and then drag his knife through Gered’s skin when he felt Gered hadn’t done something good or fast enough. Or sometimes just because he felt like it.
“Yes, sir.”
“Dayo, I heard you cleaned up last night, too.” A bit of amusement came through Rosche’s words.
“Always, sir.” The cheer in Dayo’s voice seemed painfully forced to Gered. But Rosche didn’t appear to notice.
“Have you tried the new brew down at the Roadhouse?”
“Yes, sir. Last time we headed into town. I prefer the amber though.”
“That is one of their better ones.”
Gered had to allow the fact that Rosche did know something about every rider under his command. In most riders, it instilled a bit of pride and loyalty that Rosche could talk to them about something personal. Like he really cared. That way it was easier to forgive and forget when he killed or punished on a whim.
They passed around the rear of the tower, stopping at the garage door which housed Rosche’s personal bikes. Rosche tapped in the code and the door raised.
“You run a good crew, Gered. Gioia continues to impress me.” This time Rosche turned a sharper look at him.
Gered kept his features schooled in the mask he’d perfected a long time ago. His sunglasses hid his traitorous eyes. He hated the way Rosche said her name, caressing the syllables as if he still owned her.
“She might be able to beat Gered at the short range someday.” Dayo kept a careless note in his voice.
Rosche smiled. “That I would pay to see.”
Gered forced motion into his limbs, making some gesture indicating he wasn’t concerned about his uncontested rule as the best shot in the garrison.
Rosche ducked into the garage and wheeled out his bike. It had an extra bulk the rest of the gang bikes didn’t—a larger engine, heavier horsepower. It fit the man perfectly.
“How’s the drifter settling in?” he asked.
“Seems to be doing just fine, sir,” Gered said.
“Good. She seems like she has...potential.” A slight smile quirked Rosche’s mouth. “She bring anything interesting in?”
Gered’s mind flitted back to a canister filled with harnessed lightning, shouting danger in its design and function.
“No, sir. But she does have the knack for machines.”
Rosche wanted an answer and he might as well hear about the knack instead of something else.
“Good. Even more potential, then.” Rosche gave a pleased smile. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen someone with blue eyes, hasn’t it?” A probing edge filled the question.
Gered approximated a shrug. It had been a long time. The Tlengin had made sure of that. He had no idea how she’d survived, and he really didn’t care to know. Those things were better left buried. But he knew all too well Laramie’s anger at the Tlengin for wiping out their people. Though he seemed to have had more opportunity to bury it deep.
Rosche smiled, a warning in the sight. “Just make sure she keeps performing, Gered. And I’m sure we can find a use for that knack of hers.”
“Yes, sir.” Gered took the underlying warning for himself as well. Rosche didn’t tolerate mediocrity in a useful asset for very long.
“Good.” Lightness filled Rosche’s tone, the friendliness back. “I’m going to check the recruits myself today. You boys watch each other’s backs.”
“Yes, sir.” They both saluted, stepping back to avoid the cloud of exhaust and dust as Rosche started his engine and drove off.
Dayo hissed something under his breath in the traveler language. “I need to go hit something.”
He didn’t have as many reasons to come face to face with Rosche as Gered did. But at least he’d gotten better at hiding the hate at Rosche’s heavy tax on his traveler family when he did.
Gered’s water bottle eased a crackle of relief as he loosened his grip. “Want company?”
Dayo flashed a bitter smile. “Let’s go.”
~
Gered’s back hit the mat with a thump, Dayo pinning him with triumph beginning to light his eyes. Gered allowed a quick smile, kicking his legs up around Dayo’s shoulders and twisting, redirecting Dayo off him and to the mat.
“Not fair!” Dayo growled, tugging his arm still in Gered’s hold.
“You fall for it every time.” Gered released him.
They lay on the mats, staring at the ceiling. An hour after the conversation with Rosche, Dayo seemed to have punched out his anger.
“Need to go again?” Gered asked.
“No. Think I’m good, kamé.” Dayo tapped his fist against Gered’s arm. He sat up with a groan, wiping a sleeve across his sweaty face. “You good?”
Gered held a breath for a moment. The anger and frustration swirling inside him had abated for a few moments.
“I’m good.”
Dayo stood and leaned over, extending a hand to haul him to his feet.
“Sure?” He raised an eyebrow.
Gered began to pull the wraps from his hands. “I thought this was for you.”
Dayo snorted and tugged his own wraps free. “Right. Because you didn’t pull some of your punches.”
Gered worked his hand against the swelling and bruising. He shouldn’t have sparred so soon after a bare-knuckle fight. “Did I hurt you?”
A huff came from the traveler. “You think I can’t take a punch after being here for three years?”
Gered stared at his hand. That wasn’t the point. A nudge to his shoulder brought his focus up to Dayo.
“I know you won’t hurt any of us.”
Us. Unit Four.
Though some days the anger from being trapped for so long threatened to spill over, and only Dayo’s laugh, Gioia’s smiles, or the calm of the garage helped soothe it and the fear at the violence he could do if he let it unleash.
“Hey!” A voice from the doorway turned their attention.
And the rest of the anger vanished at the sight of Gioia standing there, hands laden with water bottles and paper-wrapped objects making a determined push to scent the room with something other than sweat.
“Heard you both came this way. Dec and I got food.” She glanced at both of them. He noticed the way she stared longer at him, the way her cheeks darkened a little at the way his sweaty shirt clung to him. It made his fingers fumble at the wraps he still held.
“Gee, you are a treasure. A diamond in a barren wasteland. Has anyone ever told you this?” Dayo scooped up his boots.
Gioia’s smile flashed, and Gered’s heart thudded oddly.
“No. You can keep talking though.”
“A rainstorm in a drought. Brighter than the Lion’s Mane in the northern sky.” Dayo shoved his feet in boots and tossed the wraps into the dirty pile. “Out of curiosity, what did you get?”
“Beef wraps from that little hole-in-the-wall on Timber.”
Dayo clutched a hand to his chest. “A queen among women.”
Gered allowed a smile as he retrieved his own boots, listening to Dayo and his increasingly ridiculous platitudes. Gioia stuck her nose in the air, gesturing for Dayo to continue.
His feet settled a little firmer on the ground as he watched Dayo sling an arm around Gioia’s shoulders and relieve her of the bottles, watching how she didn’t flinch, just turned a smile to him as they waited for him to finish.
They all wore their masks well. Him, a stone void of emotion. Dayo, a little too loud and boisterous. And Gioia, a careful carelessness. And only like this were they okay with letting them slip.
Unlike Dayo who’d left his boots undone, he carefully tightened his laces. Holsters next, a routine check to his pistols before sliding them home.
Once done, Gioia ducked out from under Dayo’s arm and led the way outside to a bench on the shaded side of the training building. They took a seat, and Gered eased down into the empty space beside her.
He took his wrap, the brush of her fingers against his grounding him again. The sweet and spicy scent of the meal grew stronger as he undid the waxy brown paper. A thin round of bread filled with shredded beef, spicy cabbage, and topped with cheese and roughly chopped cactus fruit barely held itself together in the confines of the paper.
They ate in silence. Gered leaned against the wall, the heat drying out his shirt. Somewhere voices raised in argument, escalating until they cut off as fists likely started flying. Keeping fights clean was a laughable rule. In the hour since they’d been in the training room, someone new had been put into the posts. Off duty riders wandered around in groups of at least two. Always safety in numbers, especially the lower one ranked in the pecking order of the Barracks.
“Find anything good at the library?” Dayo crumpled the paper up.
Gioia folded hers more neatly around her wrap as she took another bite. “Who said I went to the library?”
Gered allowed a small smile. “It is conveniently close to a certain hole-in-the-wall on Timber.”
A gentle elbow into his side drew a huff of a laugh.
It had taken months after her choosing into the unit before she’d let slip that she missed reading. He’d seen the tiny library before in town and found a way to direct her to it. Then it took a few more months before she’d been comfortable enough to go without him or Dayo. He’d never gone in. And when Dec came along and confessed to being a reader, Gioia had started taking him along.
Gioia’s mouth quirked. “Fine. The other smart one in the unit and I went to the library. And yes, I did find something good.”
“‘Other smart one’? But I didn’t go with you,” Dayo said.
She rolled her eyes.
“Just don’t stay up too late reading again. We’re leaving early.” The paper, spotted with grease stains, folded into neat creases under Gered’s fingers.
“You could change the time we leave, you know.” Gioia grinned.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Dayo chimed in.
Gered shook his head against another smile. “Maybe I’ll change it to earlier.”
“You’re gonna be missing half the unit if you do,” Gioia warned. “Your lieutenant included.”
“I’ve been thinking about replacing him anyway,” Gered said offhandedly.
Dayo mock-laughed, reaching over Gioia’s head as she ducked and shoving at Gered.
“You don’t have to worry anyway. I’m sure Laramie isn’t going to want lights to stay on.” Gioia crumpled her paper and tossed it at Dayo. He caught it and placed it by his side.
“Gered let her into the garage,” he informed Gioia.
She turned, eyes wide. “Really?”
Gered winced a little internally, feeling a small stab of guilt for consistently keeping them out of his small refuge but then opening up slightly to the drifter instead.
“She’s got the knack.”
Gioia nodded in understanding, the bit of betrayal disappearing. The law of the Barracks was to take advantage of anything that might be useful.
“Makes sense. Hey, maybe she can help you keep up with maintenance on Dayo’s bike.”
“Hey!” Dayo lightly tapped her thigh with a fist.
A quick laugh burst from her. Gered dared lean a little closer.
“That’s what I said.”
“Okay, I’m officially putting in for a transfer to another unit who will better appreciate me.” Dayo tipped his head back in an aggrieved manner.
“I heard Branson was looking to add to his unit.” Gioia couldn’t make it through without snickering.
Dayo mimed a gag. “On second thought...”
“Well, well, having fun over here?” a sneering voice cut in.
Gioia stiffened beside him as Zelig shrugged into his red jacket, another of his riders pushing from the training building to come up behind him.
Dayo reclined a bit more against the wall. “Here looking for a rematch?”
Zelig glared the rider’s way. “No one asked you, kamé.” He intentionally butchered the traveler word.
Gered watched Dayo from the corner of his eye, ready to step in if Dayo acted on the tenseness taking over his limbs.
“Need anything, Zelig?” Gered asked, drawing the leader’s attention back to him.
“Maybe some company tonight.” He flicked a gaze to Gioia.
Rage began to coil again in his gut.
She curled a lip. “Shift off.”
Gered pushed to his feet, hands hanging loose by his sides, ready to pull the comfortable weight of one of his twin guns into his hand.
“I’ll ask one more time. Need something?”
Zelig’s lip curled up. “Maybe I’m tired of seeing you flaunt the rules and step all over me and mine.”
The anger simmered. A breeze wafted by, brushing his skin. No jacket. He could move easier without it.
“Then grow some stones and challenge me yourself.” Gered allowed his scorn to come through. “Or keep sending men, and after I break their arms, I’ll come for you.”
Zelig crossed his arms. “Sure about that?”
Gered took a second glance, making sure he hadn’t missed anything the last time he’d sized Zelig up. Still just full of himself.
“Maybe not. I don’t see anything of value worth taking your unit for.”
Red suffused Zelig’s face. “I’d watch your back, Gered boy. Or maybe I’ll pick your unit off one by one.” He flicked a glance at Dayo and Gioia who’d risen to their feet, watchful and ready.
Gered allowed a small smile. The kind that didn’t move anywhere but his mouth. He leaned closer to Zelig.
“Try.”
Zelig tried to hold his stare. Narrowed his eyes as if that would continue to threaten Gered. He backed off, slowly turned away, and strode off followed by his rider.
A light touch on Gered’s hand dissipated the storm. He eased his fingers out of the fists he’d formed. One short breath and a look at Gioia settled him back.
Dayo muttered a few words that held the cadence of Aclar. “Idiot.” He sniffed and tilted a wry look to Gered. “Need to head back inside to the mats?”
Gered dared reach out and brush Gioia’s hand where she still lingered close by his side. Her brown eyes asked the question.
“No. I’m good.” His fingers twitched a little. The only other way to get rid of the urge to fight was to work.
“Think I’ll head to the garage for a bit.”
“Okay.” Gioia stepped back. The offer was in both their faces, but he turned away.
“See you later.” He grabbed his jacket from the bench and strode off alone.
