The q, p.2
The Q, page 2
“Did you call Declan?” she asked.
Joe blanched at the mention of the name. That was how people looked when they were terrified of you.
“Not yet,” he said. “We thought maybe it was just late.”
Maisie sighed. It wasn’t late. The shipment hadn’t come for weeks. Someone up north kept stopping them. Declan said he was working on tracking them down, so she’d hoped that this one would make it, but no such luck.
“I’ll tell him.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Declan.
“Thanks, Maisie.” Nathan grinned at her. Several of his teeth were still missing.
“I thought you were getting new teeth,” she said, sliding her phone back into her pocket.
“I’m saving up for a new kidney first.”
“He’s ugly as sin with or without teeth.” Joe laughed heartily at his own joke.
“Why do you need a new kidney?” she asked. “Lopez fixes them for free.”
“I still have my original kidney.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “No shit! How’d you manage that?”
He looked proud. “Got tough kidneys, I guess.”
“I guess so.” She pulled a small tablet from her pocket and held it out to Joe. “What do you have for me?”
“Ah, come on, Maisie.” Joe gestured dramatically with his arms. “No shipment! No shipment means no booze, which means no money.”
“You still have local stuff. I saw people in the bar last night.” She tapped her fingers impatiently against the tablet.
He took it, grumbling. He pressed his finger to the screen and then swiped a few times as he transferred credits. “I’ve only got five hundred right now.”
“You owe us a thousand.”
“I’ll get you the last five hundred next week. Assuming Lopez can actually get the shipment through this time.”
She cocked an eyebrow. Joe shrugged.
Most days, she would press harder. Declan would threaten to replace her again if she didn’t collect. Tell her to go work at the garbage plant if she couldn’t get the business owners to respect (he meant fear) her.
But not today. Joe had a point about the shipment. Lopez needed to fix it, fast.
She tucked the tablet back into her pocket. “You better hope they get us the medical shipment first, not liquor, or Nathan’s shit out of luck for that new kidney.”
Both men looked startled. She turned and walked away from the loading dock.
“It’s that bad?” Nathan asked.
“Yes!” she called over her shoulder.
* * *
—
The streets of the Q were crowded, as usual. Maisie slipped into the crowd, keeping a hand on the tablet in her pocket. Most people would never be dumb enough to rob her, but if there was one thing you could count on in life, it was that there was always a stupid asshole around every corner.
A bicycle sped past, nearly clipping her arm.
“Watch it!” she yelled.
The rider flipped her off without turning around, like him almost hitting her had been her fault. There was one of the stupid assholes right there.
She looked left for more bikes, and then right, but there were only people on foot crowding the sidewalks and street. Out beyond the wall, people spent most of their time in cars, but not in the Q. No gasoline inside the walls. There were a few solar-electric cars and buses around, but they were mostly for Lopez business. Everyone else traveled by foot or bike and stuck to their own neighborhoods.
Maisie slipped into the tall building on River Street. It was cool inside, thanks to the low temperatures today. She took the elevator to the tenth floor. It smelled like popcorn as she stepped into the hallway, and beer as she approached the door.
The studio was an even bigger disaster than it had been yesterday. A long desk took up one whole wall, covered in laptops and radio equipment. A trash can in the corner was overflowing with beer bottles and chip bags. A song that was released before her parents were born played softly from the speakers.
Hadley Lopez sat in a chair in the middle of the mess, black boots propped up on the desk. Her long dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore a pair of ripped jeans and a neon-green shirt. A bowl of popcorn sat in her lap.
She tilted her head back, her upside-down face breaking into a grin. “Hey, Maisie. Welcome back.”
Maisie flopped down in the chair in the corner.
Hadley spun around in her seat and held out the popcorn. “Want some?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Lopez liked your broadcast, by the way.”
Maisie lifted a skeptical eyebrow.
“He did!” Hadley exclaimed. “He said you were relatable.”
Maisie leaned her head back and made an annoyed noise.
“Only you would think that being relatable is a bad thing,” Hadley said with a laugh. “It’s why he picked you to do it.”
“I should have been…” Serious. Slightly scary. Like her dad, basically. Instead, she got nervous and just blurted everything out as it came to her.
“We sent them the recording anyway,” Hadley said. “But Lopez won’t blame you if they don’t use any of it. You know how they are over there.”
“Yeah.”
“Did the medical shipment come?”
Maisie shook her head.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“What’d Declan say?”
Maisie pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked. “He hasn’t replied yet.”
“He’s probably pounding someone’s face in.”
“That does sound like him.”
“Are you guys broken up for real this time?” Hadley looked hopeful.
“Yes.”
“For real, for real?”
“Yes!”
“Thank god. Don’t tell him I said that.”
“I try not to talk about anything but work with Declan these days.” Maisie preferred not to dwell on her relationship with Declan. Mistakes were made.
“You know that the Reapers are getting restless,” Hadley said. “Talking about how it might be time for a leadership change.”
Maisie sighed. “I know.” The Reapers—the only gang in the south that Lopez hadn’t managed to quash—had been threatening to seize control for years. They didn’t have the numbers, but if Lopez couldn’t deliver the shipments soon, they might have better luck recruiting.
“Hey, did you know Nathan Fredrick still has his original kidney?” Maisie asked.
“What!”
“I was impressed too. He should keep it. Put it in a box and show it off.”
“Only you would think that’s a good idea.” Hadley spun around in her chair again to face her desk. “Hold on.” She slipped her headphones over her ears and leaned into the mic in front of her. The music faded out.
“I’ve got a few news updates for you this morning—first, we’ve got a garbage pileup happening at the plant right now, so everyone’s going to have to keep their garbage to themselves for the next week. Regular schedule resumes next week, supposedly.”
She looked at the laptop screen to her left. “Some news from beyond the wall today—Lennon Pierce, the son of Senator Camden Pierce, has been kidnapped. Camden Pierce is the Democratic nominee for president of the United States and has suspended all campaign activities since his son’s kidnapping a few days ago. The election is tomorrow.
“And in news you actually give a shit about, Rosa’s Bakery has started making those blueberry scones again. Run, don’t walk.” She clicked off the mic, music filling the room once more.
Maisie leaned forward. “Who sent you that news about the senator?”
“The State Department. They’re always sending me election updates. They’re relentless this time, insisting I update the Q on everything. They think we’re actually going to care about this Pierce dude because he’s campaigning on a platform about finding a cure and tearing down the walls.”
“They always say that.”
“They sure do. Apparently, they think he actually means it.” She put her feet up on the table, crossing one boot over the other.
“Does it even matter? Hasn’t the same family won every year since before the Q?”
“Yeah, always the Howards, just a different one every time they run into term limits. I think they like to pretend it’s a fair election, though. Makes them feel better, I guess.” Hadley shrugged. “Never voted, couldn’t say.”
“Eh, doesn’t sound that great anyway.”
Elise appeared at the door, dragging her oxygen tank with her. Her curly blond hair was tied in a messy bun, and she pulled her mask down to her neck and smiled at them. Her pale skin was almost translucent these days, and the skin beneath her eyes was a deep purple. She held up a white paper bag.
“Blueberry scones,” she said.
“Yesss,” Hadley said.
Elise offered Maisie one, and she shook her head as she stood. “I’m good.”
“Any word on the shipment?” Elise asked.
“It’s…in progress.” Maisie tried to sound more confident than she felt. “We’re working on it.”
Elise didn’t seem convinced as she pulled her mask back up to cover her mouth and took a breath. Her one remaining lung wasn’t really up to the task of breathing anymore, and if they didn’t get the medical parts shipment in, there was no way for her to get a new set. Without the medical supplies in that shipment, most of the people in the Q couldn’t get the surgeries they needed.
Elise was getting a new set of lungs, even if Maisie had to go get the shipment herself. Elise, Maisie, and Hadley were First Five—babies born in the first five years after the Q was established. Most of the First Five died as infants. Many more as children.
Only eight First Five babies remained in Lopez territory. Maisie wasn’t about to see it become seven.
“What the—” Hadley sat up in her chair, dropping her boots off the table. Her eyes were on the window. “Is that a plane?”
Maisie moved forward to look. It couldn’t be. Airspace over the Q was restricted. She’d only ever seen a plane in pictures.
But there it was, flying north over the Q.
Something—a large object, maybe—fell out of the plane, and Maisie squinted as she moved closer to the window.
“Is that…?”
An orange parachute opened.
“Holy shit, that’s a person,” Hadley breathed.
Maisie turned around and bolted out of the studio and across the hall, to the security room. Elise was already there, sitting down in front of the computers. The rest were blinking to life, showing camera footage from around the Q.
“Lopez is going to want to know exactly where they land,” Maisie said.
Elise didn’t look up. “I know. Give me a minute.”
Hadley rushed in, leaning down behind Elise to peer at her screen.
“Do you see them?” Maisie asked.
“Camera eight,” Elise said. The image on the computers all changed to the view from camera eight.
The skydiver was still in the air but getting closer to the ground. Elise zoomed in.
“It’s a man,” Hadley said.
“You know you have dead air right now,” Elise said.
“Shit.” Hadley darted out of the room. Her voice filtered through the speakers a moment later.
“Well, folks, don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve got some weird shit happening right now. A dude just jumped out of a plane over the Q. It is literally raining men out there this morning. Hallelujah.”
LENNON
LENNON FELL FOR several seconds before his brain clicked into place.
He opened his chute. He had no idea if it was the right time—he didn’t know how far up they’d been—but earlier seemed better than too late.
He grabbed his toggles. Maybe, if he steered east or west, he could land outside the quarantine zone. It was fifty miles north to south, but only about fifteen east to west.
Which way was west? Fuck.
The sun. Right. It was rising in the east.
Problem was, the wind was pushing him south.
And he was pretty sure the kidnappers dropped him directly in the middle of the quarantine zone, which meant that his odds of moving several miles east or west were very slim.
He looked down at the ground below him.
It was coming at him too quickly. He needed a plan. He needed time to think. He was desperately trying to remember what those CDC people had said to him about vaccines and a cure for the virus. Vaccines had been impossible so far because of how the virus kept mutating, but they had said some hopeful shit about possible cures and progress with short-term vaccines.
He should have listened closer to that hopeful shit.
If he was being honest, he hadn’t really bought into his dad’s whole “I’m going to save the quarantine zone!” shtick. A lot of people thought it was only a matter of time before the whole zone revolted and tore down the walls. It was a miracle it hadn’t happened already. They’d been in here for over twenty years.
President Howard had made it clear that he would destroy everyone inside the walls before he let the people inside infect them all.
So. Lennon was going to get sick or he was going to get blown up. Or both!
The ground was approaching faster now. The quarantine zone didn’t care that he hadn’t made a plan or made peace with his terrible options.
There was grass, at least. This would be his first solo landing, and he had a feeling it was not going to go great. At least he wasn’t landing on concrete.
He put his feet together and prayed. He wasn’t religious, but it couldn’t hurt.
His feet touched the ground, and for a hot second he thought he might nail the landing. Then he was rolling and grunting and there was grass in his mouth. He was tangled in his parachute. He had not nailed anything, and for a moment, he was glad that his friends weren’t there to capture it on video.
He finally stopped. He couldn’t see anything but the orange parachute. His body felt numb, panicked, and he didn’t want to move for fear of discovering he’d broken several limbs. It took him a moment to realize that his mouth was still wide-open from screaming. He snapped it shut.
He shifted his arms. They felt fine. He moved his legs. One knee ached, but it was probably just bruised.
Slowly, he crawled out of the parachute.
He stopped with just his head peeking out, bracing both hands on the ground.
Grass and rolling hills. In the distance, he could see an old boarded-up gas station and a two-lane road.
He shrugged off the parachute and stood, turning in a circle. There was no one.
He had no idea if he was in the north or the south. The quarantine zone didn’t have a formal government, just rival gangs that controlled the two halves—the Spencer family in the north and the Lopez family in the south.
He had no idea which to hope for.
It occurred to him suddenly that if there was no one nearby, there was no way for him to catch whatever form of the virus was floating around this place. Maybe if he just stood right here and waited, the military would send a helicopter. There was plenty of space for it to land.
His heart lifted. It wasn’t totally unreasonable. Surely people had seen the plane over the quarantine zone. And the people in here had ways of communicating with the US government. They just chose not to, for the most part.
But they’d loosened up a bit lately. They’d even agreed to some audio recordings, which Lennon had lobbied hard for.
The airspace above the quarantine zone had been restricted for years, but they could make an exception. It was an emergency.
Of course, he would need to talk to someone in here about this plan, which was a problem. But he could try to maintain enough distance not to catch anything and just yell for help.
It was a solid plan. It could work.
“RUNNER!”
Lennon whirled around at the sound of the voice.
“RUNNER FROM THE NORTH!”
He spotted the source of the voice—a man stood on the roof of the gas station, holding a megaphone.
A rumbling noise sounded from behind him, and he turned to see three people on motorcycles zooming his way.
He stumbled backward, holding his hands up in the air. He wasn’t sure why. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
The motorcycles all stopped about twenty yards away. Lennon slowly lowered his hands. None of the riders wore helmets, but they all had on black masks that covered the bottom half of their faces.
He tried to think of what his dad would do in this situation. His unflappable father, who could cheerfully converse with people who were screaming at him. He’d once waved at a person who’d thrown an egg in his face at a campaign stop and quipped, “I prefer them scrambled!”
His father would say to be polite and friendly. No one ever regretted being too nice, son.
Lennon doubted that was true, but he begrudgingly had to admit that it was good advice. He took a deep breath to steady himself.
“Uh…hi?” he yelled. “I—”
He cut himself off at the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned.
Four men were charging straight toward him.
“No, no, no!” he yelled, putting his hands out in front of him. “Stop! Please! Just stay there!”
The men did not stop.
They came at him faster.
He turned and ran.
MAISIE
“WHERE DID HE go?” Maisie asked. Camera eight showed nothing but blue sky.
“Hold on,” Elise said. “He veered north, and he was already pretty close to the neutral zone. If he crossed into Spencer territory, we’ve lost him.”
