The Drowned Cities (Ship Breaker #2)(82)

She tried to pull him with her, but Mouse wasn’t coming along as quickly as she wanted. She saw that his face was nicked and bruised, and the bandage over his ear was bloody. He’d been in battle. He was in shock, she decided. He was still staring at Mahlia, looking surprised and confused, like he was looking at a stranger.

Tool surfaced from the canal. Suddenly the buildings around them opened up. Gunfire chattered all around. Bullets peppered the concrete and stone, whizzing and ricocheting. Debris showered them.

Mouse ducked under cover. Tool leaped from the water, running for the building’s entryway, but his back was a carpet of red. For a second Mahlia thought that he was bleeding, but the blood was waving about, bristlelike.

Needles, she realized. Dozens, maybe hundreds of needles, all peppering his back. Tool shoved them both in through the window and stumbled. Kept shoving them forward, and then he toppled. Boots echoed down the boardwalks. It was an ambush, Mahlia realized. She’d thought they were hunters, but they were prey.

Mahlia grabbed Mouse. “Come on!”

She dragged him down a corridor. They weren’t far from her mother’s secret vault. If they could just get inside, the soldiers might not find it. But Mouse wasn’t running, he was dragging.

“Come on!” Mahlia shouted. “Come on!”

Boots echoed behind them. More and more. They were pouring in from all sides. Mahlia slammed up against the warehouse’s secret door, feeling for its catches, scrabbling at them, jamming them, pounding them in frustration.

The door swung open. She dove through, pulling Mouse. She heard shouts behind her. She tried to slam the door closed but a rifle jammed its way through, blocking her. Outside, the soldiers were all yelling. They slammed against the door and knocked her back. Soldier boys swarmed through, surrounding her. They grabbed her and dragged her out.

Mahlia caught a glimpse of Mouse, standing still, astonished, and then she was out in the hall, dragged kicking and screaming back the way she’d come. Before her, Tool lay on the floor, animal eye wide with tranquilizers as troops swarmed over him.

Lieutenant Sayle stepped in through the building’s huge bay window, and a fresh wave of his troops boiled in with him. He smiled coldly as his boys slapped her and shoved her forward.

Mahlia caught another glimpse of Mouse being pulled away, a look of shame and confusion on his face. Soldiers were slapping him on the back, cheering and calling him Ghost, and more warboys were coming around to point at her and laugh, and spit in her face.

Sayle stepped close, smiling.

“The girl who summons coywolv,” he said. “I have been dreaming about you.”

37

MAHLIA STARED AT MOUSE, shocked. “You set me up?”

Mouse’s eyes went from her to the soldiers, confused. “I didn’t know.” He finally seemed to be getting what was happening. He tried to push through the soldiers. “I didn’t know!”

“Get him out of here!” Sayle ordered.

A couple of soldiers grabbed Mouse and pulled him away while he struggled and tried to get back to her. Mahlia looked to Tool, hoping for help, but he was down and gone. She was on her own.

The lieutenant raised his fist and swung hard. Pain exploded in her face. She tried not to flinch and not to cry. He hit her again. She felt her nose break.

The lieutenant stood before her, gray eyes coldly alight. Mahlia tried to tear away, but the soldiers tripped her and she landed on the floor. She scrabbled to get up, but they jumped on her and held her down. Someone slammed her face into the cracked tile floor.

Lieutenant Sayle knelt down beside her. He grabbed her by the hair, twisting her head up so he could look into her face.

“You got some payback coming to you, castoff.”

Mahlia knew what was coming. It was going to be like it had been for her mother. They’d rape her and break her, make her scream until they got sick of her. Then they’d kill her. Mahlia started to pray. Knowing it was stupid, but praying anyway. Kali-Mary Mercy, Rust Saint, Fates. All the martyrs of the Deepwater Church. Anyone.

Sayle put a knee on her back, pressing her down, and then Mahlia felt something else, too, metal pricking cold against the skin of her spine. A knife.

“Maybe we’ll take your kidneys out, before we’re done with you,” Sayle said. “Harvesters give a good price for pieces and parts. Take your eyes, take your heart, take your kidneys, drain you out.” He paused.

“But they don’t need fingers, do they?”

Mahlia started to shake. Her fingers. Her hand.

She started bucking and twisting, trying to break free. Knowing it was pointless to fight, but doing it anyway.

The lieutenant put his knife against her pinky knuckle. She felt it slice through.

Mahlia screamed. She screamed and screamed and they didn’t try to muffle her. They just laughed as she bucked and writhed under their hands.

“That’s one!” Sayle crowed.

He dangled her pinky in front of her while she sobbed and tried to squirm away.

Sayle leaned close, his breath hot on her cheek. “How ’bout we go for two?”

“LT!” The shout came from across the room, interrupting.

Sayle turned, annoyed. “What do you want, soldier?”

“Need your help, sir.”

With a curse, Sayle climbed off. Mahlia lay gasping, panting. One of the other soldier boys gave her a shove with his foot.