The Wastelands (Part II of the Runner Series)

Chapter 36

The pitcher of ale slips from her fingers, bouncing off the lap of the burly Enforcer and shattering violently as it collides with the ground.

"What the hell?" The Enforcer leaps clumsily to his feet, knocking the table and sloshing more ale over the rims of our mugs. I duck my eyes and make a grab for my stein, holding it low to hide the sudden shaking in my hands.

"I-" Lara's breathy voice is as familiar as my own heartbeat. "I'm so sorry. Here, let me...." There is the sound of a stinging slap as he bats her hand away. I flinch involuntarily with the old instinct to protect her.

"Relax, Tomas. It was an accident." Sam has reached a hand down to help Lara to her feet. She stumbles momentarily on the train of her skirt, revealing a distinct tremor in her knees.

"Lara, this our new friend, Frye."

Nothing for it. I tear my eyes away from the ground and up to her, extending my hand as I force every last ounce of concentration I have into keeping my face blank and my shoulders from quaking.

"Frye." She exhales my brother's name, barely audible as she timidly inserts her hand into mine. I suppress a shudder of revulsion at the feeling of her cool palm and limp grip. Her blue eyes are wide with astonishment as she searches my face. I fight the urge to look away, withdrawing my hand quickly.

"Nice to meet you." I mumble. Shit. I can't think. Everything about her; her voice, her hair, godsdamn it, even her scent is exactly the same. It's as though not a second has passed between now and our days spent laughing together in my attic apartment.

Except so much has changed.

Everything has changed.

The murderous rage born of betrayal and confusion burns through me, clouding my thoughts and distorting my judgement. Clearly, she recognizes me. Any doubt she felt would have been extinguished the moment she heard Frye's name. Now what?

Do not trust her.

Never. Never again.

A single word from Lara about my true identity and these fickle new friends of mine will have the alarm raised instantly. In their drunken state I would have no trouble taking on the lot of them, but where would that leave me? The bar is teeming with more off-duty Enforcers. My time in Babel would be over before it has even begun.

My hands curl into fists at my sides and I swallow the lump of bile that has risen in my throat. As much as it disgusts me to admit it, she has me over a barrel. I need to get us both out of here, immediately.

"That's a bit rude, innit? Frye, where are your manners?" Sam's heavy hand pats me hard on the back, startling me back into the present. "What's the matter with you? Don't you think she's pretty?"

All colour has drained from Lara's face but she still manages a weak laugh.

"I-" I cough. "Of course I do."

"Or maybe blonde and beautiful isn't your type, eh?" The ale-soaked Enforcer to my right digs his elbow painfully into my ribs. "Don't tell me you ain't never been with a woman, soldier."

I push him off of me. "I've been with plenty."

"Oh ho, is that right? Tender little lad like you probably has them lined up 'round the block." He tugs on my head scarf and I grab for it desperately, dodging out of his way and hurriedly tucking my hair back inside.

"Look at 'im blush! Told you this one was still an innocent." The Enforcer grabs for my scarf again and I shove my chair back, nearly colliding with Lara who lowers herself gracefully into my lap, firmly inserting herself between us.