Ship Breaker (Ship Breaker #1)(37)

Pima distributed metal tins to the adults, rice and red beans and ground sausage spiced. Nailer watched the food as it was passed around, entranced. It was astonishingly good eating. He didn’t remember the last time he’d seen so much meat passed around so casually. As the food was handed to Moby and Tool, Nailer found himself salivating. Moby started to eat even as Blue Eyes watched him. “You tell Lopez his kid is alive?” she asked.

Moby shook his head between mouthfuls of rice and beans that he shoveled in with his hand.

“What the hell does he pay you for?” Blue Eyes asked.

“He just woke up,” Moby protested. “Two minutes back in the world of the living, if that.” He elbowed Tool. “Back me up. The little rat just woke up.”

Tool shrugged, scooped up a handful of rice and meat chunks. “Moby isn’t lying this time,” he rumbled. “As he says, the little rat just woke up.” He smiled, showing sharp canine teeth. “Just woke up in time for dinner.” He popped the mass of food into his mouth.

Blue Eyes made a face. She took Moby’s tin away and handed it to Nailer. “Go get your own feed, then. Boss man’s kid eats first. And tell the boss he’s awake.”

Moby scowled at her, but he didn’t protest. Just got up and headed out. Pima crouched beside Nailer, spoke in a low voice. “How you doing?”

Nailer made himself smile even though he was already feeling tired again. “Not dead yet.”

“Must be a good day, then.”

“Yeah.” He dug into the food.

Pima jerked her head at Nita. “We need to talk. Lucky Girl’s people haven’t showed up yet.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Your dad’s starting to get jittery.”

Nailer glanced at the guards. “Jittery how?”

“He’s got his eye on her. Maybe like he wants to hand her over to Blue Eyes and the Life Cult. Keeps talking about how much copper he could make off her pretty eyes.”

“She know what he’s planning?”

“She’s not stupid. Even a swank like her can figure it out.”

Blue Eyes interrupted their conversation, squatting down beside them. “Having a nice chat?”

Nailer shook his head. “She’s just checking on me.”

“Good.” Blue Eyes smiled, hard and cold. “Then shut up and finish your food.”

Tool showed his teeth from where he sat on his stump. “Good advice,” he rumbled.

Pima nodded and slipped away without protest.

That was more telling than anything else. She was afraid. Nailer glanced at her hand, saw that her broken fingers were splinted on a bit of driftwood. Nailer wondered if it was their breaking or something else that had happened in the last three days that made Pima so wary.

Nita finished her food, said to no one in particular, “I’m getting pretty good at eating with my hands.”

Nailer glanced over. “What else would you eat with?”

“Knife, fork, spoon?” She almost smiled and then shook her head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Nailer pressed. “You making fun of us, Lucky Girl?”

Nita’s face turned careful, almost fearful, and he was glad about that. He scowled at her. “Don’t go looking down on us ’cause we don’t have your swank ways. We could have cut your fingers off and your damn knife and fork and spoon wouldn’t have been much good then, would they?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry after you already said it.”

“Shut up, Nailer,” Pima said. “She’s sorry.”

Tool stared at Nita with his dead yellow eyes. “Maybe not as sorry as she could be. Right, boy?” He leaned forward. “Do you want me to teach your swank a lesson in manners?”

Nita suddenly looked very frightened indeed. Nailer shook his head. “No. Never mind. She gets it now.”

Tool nodded. “Everyone does eventually.”

Nailer shivered at the half-man’s flat words, the disinterest in his voice. This was the first time he’d been this close to the creature. There were plenty of stories about him, though. About where he got the vast webwork of scars that decorated his face and torso. About how he waded through the swamps, hunting for alligators and pythons. People said he wasn’t afraid of anything. That he’d been engineered so he couldn’t feel pain or fear. He was the only thing Nailer had ever seen his father talk about with careful respect rather than abusive authority. The half-man was damn scary, and watching the way Tool looked at the girl, he thought he knew why.

“Never mind,” Nailer said again. “She’s fine.”

Tool shrugged and went back to his food. They all sat in silence. Beyond the ring of their firelight, there was nothing except animal sounds and insects, the black wildness of the jungles and swamps, the swelter of the interior. From the distant sound of the surf, Nailer guessed they were at least a mile from shore. He lay back on the ground watching the flames flicker. The food had been good, but he was tired again. He let his mind drift, wondering what his father was planning, and why Pima looked so worried, and what was going on behind Lucky Girl’s swank eyes. He drifted off.

“Damn, boy, you’re awake, I hear.”

Nailer opened his eyes. His father crouched over him, smiling, his tattooed dragons and bright crystal slide amphetamine eyes on him.