“No,” Ezekiel said. “Your bosses want my friend dead.”
“Lil’ Red. She’s the deviate, ain’t she?”
Ezekiel pressed his lips thin, refusing to confirm the suspicion.
“Yeah,” Preacher nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
“You told me you had a code,” Zeke said. “That you’re loyal to Daedalus because they saved your life. Well, in case you missed it, I just saved it, too.”
“Wouldn’a needed savin’ if not for you, Snowflake,” Preacher said.
Ezekiel pressed the shotgun hard into the bounty hunter’s throat.
“My name,” he said softly, “is Ezekiel.”
Preacher glanced down at the weapon. Up into the lifelike’s eyes.
“Well, well,” he smiled. “Finally found your man parts, Zekey? I was startin’ to wonder if the folks who made you had forgot to bolt ’em on.”
“You did tell me to grow up.”
“I surely did.”
“Do you remember when you asked me what I saw in Eve?”
“Vaguely.” A shrug. “I confess I might’ve been a touch drunk at the time.”
Ezekiel sucked his lip. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that question. It feels like years, but truth is, I’ve only known Eve for a week or so. I honestly have no idea what she’s capable of. I’m thinking maybe I saw in Eve what I wanted to see. I saw the girl I thought she was. And now, I’m wondering if she isn’t someone else entirely.” Zeke shook his head, narrowed his eyes. “But whoever she is, she and Gabriel and the others are trying to hurt someone I loved. And I can’t let that happen.”
“But you can’t stop them all on your lonesome,” Preacher smirked.
“We need Lemon,” Ezekiel said, looking the cyborg hard in the eye. “If I’m right, she’s the weapon that’ll even the scales. She’s the key to this whole thing. It’s going to take my brothers and sisters a day or so to recover from those bullet wounds. But once they’re up and moving again, they’ll be on Ana’s trail, and there aren’t many places left to look. We have to find Lemon. Now.”
Preacher spat a stream of sticky brown at Ezekiel’s feet, saying nothing.
“Listen, you owe me,” Zeke said. “And you said you lived by a code. So the deal’s real simple. You help me find Lem. Then you walk away, and we call it even. A life for a life. Go back and tell your masters whatever you need to, I don’t care. But help me find her. Help yourself. Because if Eve and the others get their way, there’ll be no helping anyone.”
Preacher sucked hard on the wad of tobacco in his cheek.
“The smart play here would be to ghost me. You know that, right?”
“Call me an optimist.”
The bounty hunter thought long and hard, finally heaved a sigh.
“I got a repairman in Armada,” he said. “Cyberdoc who’s lookin’ after my blitzhund, Jojo. Talking true now? If there’s a chance we’re gonna run into these snowflakes again, I’m gonna need repairs. New legs. Replacement augs. I’m sick and goddamn tired of being carried around on your shoulder like my gramma’s handbag. And frankly, Zekey? You’re startin’ to stink.”
“Then we get your blitzhund. Find Lemon. After that, you walk. Debt repaid.”
Ezekiel lowered the shotgun, held out his hand.
“What do you say? Partners? For real?”
“A life for a life?” the bounty hunter asked.
“A life for a life,” the lifelike nodded.
The Preacher stared at the lifelike’s eyes.
Spat onto the bloodstained road and shook his hand.
“All right, Zekey. Partners.”
Lemon sat bolt upright as the alarm started to scream.
It shrieked over the PA system like an off-key chainsaw, high-pitched and all the way too loud. Her heart was badumping against her ribs, eyes wide, hair in a pillow-tangle. The digital readout on the wall read 18:00. Peering about in the gloom, she wondered what the hells was happening.
She swung her legs off the bunk, dropped to the floor, hauled on her uniform and boots. It took her three fumbles to get the door open, and she found herself stumbling out into the hall just as the alarm finally died. Diesel shuffled past in the deafening quiet, her hair mussed from sleep, grunting something between a greeting and a warning. Grimm followed, running his hand over his stubble and looking half-awake.
“Evenin’,” he said.
“What was that alarm?” Lemon demanded. “Is it an emergency? Are we under attack or on fire or out of that freeze-dried ice cream stuff?”
“It’s breakfast,” he smiled.
“You have an alarm for breakfast?”
“We have an alarm for everythin’. I think the Major was just taking it easy on you while you were new.” He nodded downstairs. “Come on. While it’s hot.”
After three days, Lemon was still adjusting to the timetable in Miss O’s. The freaks ran like a military unit, and the inner workings of the facility moved like clockwork. There was a time to wake, a time to eat, a time to train. The deviates operated at night and slept during the day—it was safer to move around aboveground during the darker hours, less chance of being seen. Lemon wondered exactly who was supposed to see them this far out in the desert, but she didn’t want to ask too many questions. Still, for a girl who used to do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, it took some getting used to.
She shuffled downstairs, where she saw Fix and his perfect hair carrying a pot of fresh caff into the room. He was wearing a black apron over his uniform that read WITH GREAT LOOKS COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY, and had laid out their breakfast on the coffee table. The feast was made up of freeze-dried eggs and vacuum-sealed bacon, and some kind of juice with a vaguely radioactive orange hue. The smells were delicious, though, dizzying almost, and Lemon found herself forgiving the rude awakening at the thought of stuffing her face.
The Major entered through the hatchway from Section B, leaning on his walking stick. He was already shaved, showered and dressed, his uniform crisp, his creases perfect in contrast to the ragged scars on his face. Grimm, Diesel and Fix all stood to attention as he entered the room, offered him a brisk salute.
“Good evening, soldiers,” he nodded, returning the gesture.
“Evening, sir!” the trio responded in unison.
Lemon didn’t know whether to salute the old man or give him a hug. She was still wrapping her head around the whole grandfather thing, talking true. But he gave her an easy, warm smile as he sat down, seemingly just happy that she was there. He had that way about him, she’d noticed. Despite the scars. The iron. The calluses. When he smiled at you, it felt like the sun had come out from behind a cloud. When he talked, it was impossible not to listen. She liked him; he made her feel strong and sure, and the more she was around him, the more she wanted to be.