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The NEL working with the Fae chase after me the moment I get to the other side of the burning wreckage that used to be Blanc’s bike, but once they get within fifty feet of me, the jammer messes with their augments and they shy back, shaking their noses and pawing at their ears as if trying to get some horrible sound out of their heads.
Though the black wolf had been out of range when my jammer first went off, he tries to leap at me now. But the moment his paws get into whatever field the jammer emits, they fall apart, dissolving like dust in a windstorm.
The other NEL fall back.
I keep running, my head pounding and my breathing erratic as I put as much distance between me and the Fae as possible. I probably look ridiculous running around in huntress boots, a motorcycle helmet, and a fancy dress, but there’s no time to worry about that... or the fact that I’ve lost one of my huntress uniforms and the slippers the birds gave me. The sooner I get back to the Snow estate, the better.
Only after the wreckage disappears from sight, hinted at by a single, distant plume of orange sky around a pillar of black smoke—do I finally slow down to take a breath. My sides ache and I can barely breathe.
I need to keep going, but I want little more than to sink to my knees and sit for as long as I can. If this was a normal mission, I’d have called one of the other huntresses for backup. Goldfinch, probably, since she’s always reliable.
But I have no way to talk to anybody, not even Agnes, so long as this jammer is at full strength.
I groan and force myself to continue walking, keeping to the edge of the iron bars surrounding this estate. Obviously this place belongs to some rich fellow from the SNP—the Fae have some unstated thing against iron, probably because it’s often used to hide anti-tech devices.
I pause, and then glance over the bars.
Is it possible this place is protected? If so, I need to sneak inside to rest and wait until the jammer runs out of power. Maybe I could even test adjusting the jammer until I can hear Agnes again—assuming this estate only uses a low anti-tech field, if anything.
I’d be better off trying to get to the Snow estate. In the meantime, I can see about popping out the vials myself. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before. Sure, I can’t remove them while the jammer’s not working. But as long as they can’t connect with the Network, I should be safe... assuming Dr. Johnson didn’t upload a special code to them that would work regardless.
She probably did.
I sigh and keep limping along. The scrapes on my knees and elbows blossom into a painful, burning ache. The helmet settles too heavily on my head. I finally remove it so I can actually hear. With so many of my other senses cut off, I need to have at least one reliable one. Hearing is one of the things I didn’t fully augment—the most I had done was the ability to increase and decrease volume, and that wasn’t even through the Network—so it shouldn’t sound quite so odd.
Sirens wail in the distance. The police have already arrived at the scene of the crime. I never saw them pass, but they probably took a different route. Or maybe they sent over a drone and decided that, since the Fae were involved, they didn’t want to come anywhere near it. Maybe the sirens are for some other incident.
Organized crime, corporations, the Fae... it’s like Maria said, the police avoid anything to do with them. They used to step in, but without the government to back them, what’s the point?
A pair of headlights crests the distant hill. I pause. Should I keep walking? Try to hide against the fence? If they’re Fae, I can’t risk being seen. If they’re Progressionist...
They might have a working phone.
I have to take the risk. I wait until they get closer, and then I wave my arms frantically in the air, grimacing as I stretch a muscle I didn’t know I’d pulled.
At first, the car doesn’t show any sign of stopping. I wouldn’t blame them if they flew on by. But then the car slows a few yards past me. I hurry up the sidewalk, not moving too close to the car but wanting to be in shouting range if they open the window.
Sure enough, the tinted passenger window rolls down on the sleek, black sedan. The driver leans down to see out. He has gray hair and distinguished, thick eyebrows, and wrinkles on his face you don’t see very often on the augmented. Unless he’s using an illusion, I don’t think he’s with the Fae. Even if he was, I doubt they’d let their vanity ignore the marks of age.
“Everything okay?” he asks, looking me over. His eyes linger on my helmet.
“There was an accident,” I say, which is sort of true. “I’m fine, but I don’t have any way to call for someone to pick me up.”
He looks over me a minute longer, eyes resting on open skin flaps on my arm. I’m guessing he didn’t even notice the c-shaped augment behind my ear. The hairclip that was holding my hair in place has since been knocked loose. “You’re not on the Network?”
I take a deep breath. I wonder if he’ll leave me in the dust since I’m augmented. But surely Maria and Mr. Jacob aren’t the only Progressionists who care about the rest of us.
“Normally I am. But I’m carrying a jammer on me. I can’t connect.”
“A jammer?” He blinks, surprised. “Got yourself into trouble?”
I glance back toward the orange sky and plume of smoke. I hope I don’t scare him off. “I had a run-in with the Fae. So yes, there was trouble. I wouldn’t suggest going up this street unless this is your house. I don’t know what it looks like up there.”
His eyes widen, and I can tell he’s debating leaving now and getting the heck out of here instead of staying. Why should he bother himself and potentially make the Fae mad at him, too?
Instead he reaches to the cup holders beside him and pulls out a cell phone. “Know how to use one of these?”
I bite my lip, heat flooding to my cheeks. “Everything I’ve done is on the Network.”
He swipes the screen and clicks something I can’t see. “Who do you need to call?”
I open my mouth to speak, then stop. I can’t call President Saito, because it’s possible Dr. Johnson is somehow monitoring him. I can’t call Ebs, because he’s a contact I always had Agnes call. The only person this kind man might be able to look up is Maria, and then he might think I’m crazy.
Tears spring unbidden to my eyes.
Without the Network, I have no one to contact. The enhanced don’t have phone numbers. And I have the same issue contacting Goldfinch as I have with contacting Saito.
The only person remaining I can think of that this man might be able to find without me knowing the number of is Mr. Jacob.
Maria trusts him. Is that enough?
I swallow hard, shaking. “I... can you look up the number for Mr. Karl Jacob?” I ask. “He’s a lawyer.”
The man looks back down at his phone, his car idling while he swipes through his options. A moment later, he passes the phone through the window. “Just hit the green button to call him, and the red button to end the call.”
I take the phone, staring at the screen and the numbers. It looks like the weird, behind-the-scenes sort of script the Network has. Stuff I normally don’t pay attention to because I don’t have to.
I click the green button and hold the phone to my ear like I saw the other SNP members doing last night. There’s a strange rumbling, ringing noise that persists so long that I think Mr. Jacob isn’t going to answer.
Then a click. My breath catches in my throat.
“Hello?” It’s his voice.
“This is Verdi,” I say, letting out a thankful breath. “I’m sorry for running out on you and Maria earlier tonight.”
“Verdi... what’s going on?”
My voice must be more panicked that I thought, but I’m glad he’s not questioning me. I take a deep breath. “I ran into the Fae. The jammer... I have a jammer and I managed to use it to get away, but now I don’t know what setting it was on before, and I’m afraid messing with it might shut it off entirely. I need you to tell Maria. I need help. I need—”
The sound of a motorcycle revving in the distance freezes every pore in my body. I look up, my eyes wide. I can’t use my eye enhancements to see who it is, but there’s too much of a chance that at least one of the Fae have recovered—maybe the one I failed to inject with my toxins.
“I’ve got to go.” I hastily jam my thumb against the red button and push the phone back into the car. “You need to get out of here,” I say, my cheeks icy from fear. “Turn around before anyone sees you with me.” I step back hurriedly, and already the man is shifting his car into drive. I hope he’s not planning on continuing forward. “And thank you!” I shout.
He gives me a subtle nod before flooring it out of there, executing a surprisingly sharp u-turn before speeding out of sight.
I let out a breath of relief. At least he should be safe, unless the Fae try to track his phone. Can they? Anti-Network software is as common as anti-malware.
As for me...
I glance to the coming motorcycle and put my helmet back on.
