Children of Zaun
Finally, the physicals for the day had petered out. Katya's neck ached from hunching over charts and her head thrummed from the constant influx of patient information. All too gladly, she slammed the filing cabinet door shut. She wouldn't need to concern herself with those files again until tomorrow. She would be relieved when the miner's physicals would be done. At this rate, it was looking like the end of this week, perhaps early next.
Katya's mind was quick to shift gears in the wake of the medical supplies due to be delivered within the hour. Her heart thundered against her ribs as she reviewed the order sheet. She wished she hadn't forgotten that it was set to arrive today, she would've packed and prepared her person better. She shook her head, plait swishing against her back, and ran her tongue over her teeth.
It didn't matter.
The small, secret pockets she had sewn into her father's coat would suffice in getting a small portion of the supplies home and organized for orders.
It was a plot she and her father had schemed up shortly before his death. She couldn't let her brother's place at the preparatory school be compromised. Not after all the work it took to get him there, keep him there. Not when he would certainly die in the Sump, choked by pollution and ravaged by illness.
No. Viktor would stay Topside. As much as possible. Katya promised her father as she had held his cracked head in her hands, blood and brains spilling out from a wound she couldn't fix. She had then taken his small pistol and shot the Enforcer her father had managed to hobble in their skirmish. It had been late and dark, and the Undercity's soundscape was rife with the sound of violence so there had been no witnesses. No one cared. Just another dead Trencher and dead Enforcer.
Katya mindlessly organized the clinic until the small speaker on the front desk fizzled to life.
"Front gate to medical."
The young medic threw herself over the edge of the desk and pressed the response button. "It's me, Marzi," Katya wheezed, the desk pressing into her diaphragm. "I'm here."
"There's a medical supplier here. Says there's to be a delivery."
"Yes. Yes. Send them down."
The other end of the call hissed away as Marzi cut the line. Katya waited for the tell-tale rumble of delivery carts to approach the clinic door. When it did, she politely opened it for a lanky deliveryman. A prosthetic hand presented her with the delivery receipt and she signed it in a flourish, thanking him. He grunted an acknowledgment and slunk out of the clinic.
Katya carefully unstacked and opened the boxes. Her stomach fluttered at the contents inside. Packages upon packages of gauze, tape, needle and thread, plaster, syringes, antiseptic, burn gel, scalpels, ice packs . . .
Katya's lips tightened as she opened the next, smaller boxes labelled 'fragile'. Vials of medicine: various kinds of antibiotics, pain killers, morphine, high-strength decongestants . . . these were the big-ticket items. Such things never showed up in the Undercity's marketplace. If someone wanted actual medicine like this, they would have to go Topside. And even if they managed that hurdle – and a tall hurdle it was – the cost of medication would be prohibitive.
That's what made Katya such a necessary commodity in the Undercity. She was the only supplier. But she was meticulous about her clientele. Only engaging with people who were consistent, trustworthy and kept their damn mouths shut. She only needed enough to make sure she and Viktor survived. No more, no less.
Katya took out the original order list and began cross referencing it against the packing slip and the goods in the boxes. Once done, she restocked the examination room and supply closet. Sliding the final box of gauze pads in place, she peeked to her pocket watch. The mine would be entering its next shift shortly. Will would be coming back to relieve her. Haggard miners would slowly shuffle home, to a pub, or to a brothel. Others, mostly children and youths without homes, would return to the cramped barracks offered by the mine.
Katya slid the watch back into her vest and strode to the clinic's door. She lowered the shade and locked it before grabbing her coat. She returned to the examination room and reached deep into the sleeve of the coat, pulling out a syringe.
'Just the morphine,' she thought, amber eyes gliding over the tantalizing vials in front of her. She had a client she could swing by to that night and collect a decent chunk of change for the drug. Enough to get another bag of oats for the cupboard.
Gently, she retrieved another treasure from deep in the coat: a small empty vial. She wrote in her work notes that she disposed of empty medicine containers.
She didn't.
She kept them.
With great practice, Katya used her empty syringe to puncture the membrane of a morphine vial, drawing the medicine up into the vessel. Not enough to rouse suspicion. Not too much. Enough to give her client a high and rest bit from his chronic pain. Enough to make some coin.
She transferred the nip into the empty vial and safely tucked it into her coat.
The mine's bell sounded, announcing the change in shifts, and Katya placed the morphine vial back in the cabinet. No one would be none the wiser.
By the time Silco and Sevika trudged into The Last Drop, the bar was already pleasantly packed and boisterous. Despite the sickly undertones that colored the Fissures, the interior of the establishment was warm, yellow light glowing through the various stained-glass lamps peppered across the ceiling. Mismatched wooden chairs and tables were scattered through the large main room, crackling vinyl booths lined most of the wall space. An old jukebox was in the corner, wheezing out a jangly tune over the heads of patrons. The far wall was the bar, and Vander was behind it.
Despite being so young, The Last Drop was his establishment. He had inherited it from the last proprietor the year before, a man that had took Vander under his wing when the boy decided (with much pressure from Silco) to leave the mines when it became clear the Topsiders were ready to work him to death. Seeing the value of his size and surprising people skills, the old Drop owner brought the lad on. Vander was given room and board and a small weekly paycheck. He had stayed ever since, responsibilities and pay steadily increasing until, finally, the old barman wrote Vander into his will, leaving his long-time employee the business.
Silco and Sevika made their way up to the bar, Silco's eyes scanning the room as they wove in-between tables. The pub was mostly filled with older regulars, people they hadn't yet tried to wrangle into their revolutionary plans. People their age were easier. Less stories. Less tired. Less hopeless.
"Oi! There you two are! We've been waiting!"
Benzo sat at the bar, his large body slightly canted as he swiveled in his seat to face the two miners, a frothy tankard in hand. He waved them over as Vander looked up from the cups he was washing. A smile lifted his gray-blue eyes.
Sevika hopped onto the stool next to Benzo, Silco took up the one next to her. Vander plunked a fresh tankard in front of Silco and a glass of water in front of Sevika.
"Come ooooon, Van," Sevika whined, rolling her eyes and head back dramatically.
"No," was the simple reply. When Vander turned back to the sink, the teen quickly dipped her mouth to the frothy head of Silco's mug and took a quick slurp. She pulled away before Vander turned back, a satisfied smirk and a bubbly mustache on her full lips. Vander frowned at the teen, and flicked his eyes over to his lanky compatriot. Silco really didn't care. He was busying himself with rolling a cigarette. A boney shoulder lifted and fell.
"It's not like you'll get in trouble for serving someone underage," Silco droned, running his tongue down the seam of the paper. "Enforcers won't come in here. Besides, we were drinking before Sev's age. Do you have a light?"
Vander pouted and reached into his pocket, producing a book of matches. He slid them across the bar. Silco's long fingers caught it.
"There's a good barkeep."
"Is it just us?" Sevika asked, glancing around.
Vander set his large hands on the bar top and shifted his hip. "Aye. Beckett and Annie are scouting the docks tonight – "
"Was that a good idea?" Silco asked incredulously, lighting the end of his cigarette. "Beckett's head has spent more time between Annie's thighs than in the game recently."
Before Vander could answer, Benzo chuckled into his drink, "You're just jealous, Sil. When was the last time that beak of yours pressed into anything that wasn't a pile of mine soot?"
Silco's eyes flashed, and as quick as a snake lurched past Sevika, pressing the cherry end of his cigarette against Benzo's meaty forearm. The larger man yelped, sloshing his beer as he pulled away.
"Silco!" Vander hissed, batting Silco's arm back to his side of the bar.
"Pissy little thing, aren't'cha?" Benzo grit, clamping thick fingers over the burn. "Didn' realize it was such a sore – "
"Enough, 'Zo," Vander spat. He wrapped some ice cubes in a rag and handed it to him, before bringing his attention back to Sevika.
"Beckett and Annie are at the docks," he repeated. "I didn't gather anyone else since . . . this isn't a done deal yet. I figured it would be best to meet with her, just the five of us. So we wouldn't spook or overwhelm her."
Sevika's eyes dropped to her glass and she swiveled it against the table nervously. "Probably the right idea."
Katya rapped her knuckles against the flimsy, wet wood and waited. When nothing happened after a couple minutes, she knocked again.
"Pfeffer? It's Katya."
Finally, she heard movement beyond the door. It stopped after a moment and was replaced by a high, gruff, angry voice.
"Key. Top o' the frame."
Katya lifted up onto the toes of her boots, and ran her fingers along the top of the rotting wood. She felt the cool metal of the key and grasped it firmly between her fingers. The lock took a couple twists and tugs before its inner-workings scraped into place. Katya adjusted her scarf against her mouth and nose before opening the door.
The smell. Gods, the smell.
Rot. Stale urine. Ripe body odor. An unemptied chamber pot.
Pfeffer's home (an entirely too generous term) was small and windowless. It was simply a bricked-up alleyway with a door. Katya kept it open ajar to filter some of the stink out, and to leave the unspoken message that she would not be staying. She gently shifted garbage and dirty clothes out of her path with the tips of her shoes, as she cut to the back of the hovel where the Vastaya lay on his couch.
Katya twisted the knob of a nearby lamp, and yellow light washed over the back of the room. Pfeffer's eyes squinted against the light and slid up to Katya's face. His cheeks slackened and he took a great, rattling breath. One that made his bones creak and his muscles spasm. He winced and groaned on his exhale. Carefully, Katya knelt down at his side.
"What took you so long?" he growled.
Katya ignored his rudeness as she took one of his too-thin arms and rolled up his dirty sleeve. She knew his agitation wasn't about her. It was about his pain. Some disease that cramped and warped his muscles excruciatingly against his bones, leaving him relatively immobile and infirmed. She rotated his forearm in her hands, inspecting. He grit his sharp teeth and hissed under her feather-light touches. She sweetly shushed him in the same way she would Viktor when he was upset. She ran her fingers down his paper-thin skin, eying the threads of blue and purple veins peeking out between patches of brittle fur.
"I only have one dose right now," she said. "Do you want the whole thing? Or just half, and you can give yourself the other half later?"
Pfeffer fixed her with a veiny eyed stare and chewed his dry lips. A long moment passed before he whispered, "Half."
Katya nodded and let go of his arm, fishing out the small vial and syringe from deep within her coat. She prepared the needle and set the remaining half-dose on the table next to the couch.
"Small pinch," she said out of habit as she carefully pierced the needle just under the inside of his elbow. Pfeffer's eyelids fluttered and a warbling sigh escaped his mouth as the morphine was pressed into his body. Katya felt him sag underneath her gentle hold.
Carefully, she pulled the tip of the needle out from his arm and set it next to the vial. "Try to give it at least six hours before you take the rest of it. I can be back day after next with more."
Pfeffer's head bobbled drunkenly up and down against the arm of his couch. A clawed hand lazily floated up and gestured toward a hutch across the room. Katya got up and went over to where he had pointed. A cracked jar was perched on one of the hutch's shelves and she ducked her hand inside, pulling out a mis-matched handful of coins. She sifted through them, before pocketing their agreed upon price and tossing the left-overs back into the ceramic.
"I'll be back with the rest of your order day after next," Katya repeated as she made for the door. She spared one final glance at Pfeffer – whose breathing had shifted to something long and steady, glazed eyes stared up at the ceiling – before shutting the door and locking it.
Katya hopped up and placed the key back in its shitty hiding spot, before sauntering down the alley. Her steps made lighter by the slight weight of Hexes in her pocket.
Katya would much rather just go home after picking up the small sack of oats from the marketplace. But she had promised Sevika. And so, with a few less coins in her pocket and a few days' worth of breakfast in her hand, she made her way through the Undercity's business district.
The Lanes took their deepest breaths at night. Fanning flames of activity and life between the winding streets. Colorful neon lights pulsed above, washing the uneven streets in technicolor. The sounds of music, machines, and men thrummed through the air, jockeying for the top-notes of the soundscape they made together. Bodies jostled every which way. Occasionally, the imposing silhouette of an Enforcer creeped at the edges of the crowds. It was chaotic. Katya kept her head down as she wove through the packed streets.
The Last Drop came into view, the focal point of an open square, one of the few in the Lanes. Katya knew that the bar was a long-time establishment of the Undercity, though she had never been. She was pretty sure her father had been a few times. Before Viktor was born. Katya's gaze lifted automatically to the open space above. It was rare to have such an unobstructed view towards the sky. The tangles of buildings and Conveyor tracks crisscrossed so thickly that it was almost impossible to see anything at the bottom of the Fissures.
Although, technically speaking, Katya couldn't really see the sky. She could see the blanket of Grey with whisps of stars peeking through the occasional break in the smog. But it was still an open view, and that was novel.
She bumped into a large body as her eyes were lifted. Bashfully muttering an apology, she committed her eyes to her feet as she strode toward The Last Drop. She gripped the brass handle and pulled the heavy door open.
It was . . . cozy inside. Not quiet, but the sounds were warmer and the lights not so abrasive. The space smelled of tobacco, ale, and a little bit of sweat. It all felt very familiar. Katya squared her shoulders and reminded herself that she was not here to be lulled and comforted by some kind of by-proxy nostalgia. She was here to fulfill a foolish favor. And then get out.
She scanned the packed room for Sevika. After a couple cursory glances, a large brown arm flailing toward the back caught Katya's eyes. Sevika smiled once their gazes locked onto each other and gestured her back. Katya took a deep breath and strode toward the bar.
As she wove through the other patrons, Katya's eyes traveled between the three young men that surrounded the teen. The thin one to Sevika's left she recognized from earlier that day. Silco the miner with the icy eyes, smart mouth, and Rynweaver's nose. The other two men were large, and she tried to remember if their faces were familiar to her from the mines.
The one to Sevika's right was a tad shorter than the man behind the bar. Wider, too, with a smaller head that sloped seamlessly onto his shoulders thanks to a thick neck. His sideburns bordered on muttonchops and his long light brown hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck in a ponytail.
The young man behind the bar was very tall, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His large hands were spread confidently over the bar top as he rested his weight on his thick wrists. Blue-grey eyes shown beneath bushy brows and a shaggy head of dark brown hair. As Katya closed in, she saw patchy stubble smattered across his prominent jaw and chin.
"You came!" Sevika cried, as she leapt from her stool and pulled Katya tightly to her chest.
The girl was nervous, Katya could tell. Her eyes too wide, voice too high and tight.
'Good,' Katya thought. 'She should be nervous.'
Sevika unwrapped her friend and turned to her three compatriots. "Kat, this is Benzo, Vander, and you already met Silco," she presented gesturing to each man.
Careful to keep her expression neutral, Katya's eyes flicked between the three in front of her as they were introduced. Benzo had nodded and lifted his mug of ale. Katya's eyes quickly appraised what looked like a fresh, circular burn on his meaty forearm. Vander had smiled warmly and lifted a hand. Silco stared at her, cigarette smoldering between his lips. Her eyes glanced back at the burn on Benzo's forearm, her upper lip briefly lifted.
"It's nice to meet you Kat – "
"Katya," came the terse correction.
"Er – of course. Katya," Vander amended. "It's good to finally meet you. Sev's talked about you a lot."
It was kind, meant to make her feel at ease and welcomed. But Katya continued to keep her face schooled and body militant. She was pleased to see Vander's eyes quiver with doubt.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
"You sure?" Benzo chimed in. "Vander's got the best ale this side of Piltover."
Katya shifted from one foot to the other, thinking on the few coins left in her pocket. She wasn't going to give them up. A small tickle of nervousness scratched at the base of her spine and she unconsciously chewed the inside of her lip.
"On the house," Vander added, smiling warmly at her.
"Perhaps she prefers something stronger," Silco suddenly added, releasing a steady stream of smoke from his lips.
There was a pause before Vander asked, "Well, Lass, that true?"
"Ale is fine," Katya heard herself say. Sevika's hand gripped her shoulder firmly and grinned. "Thank you."
"Coming right up," Vander announced as he moved around the bar.
"Maybe we can move this talk to somewhere more private?" Sevika offered as a fresh pint was placed on the bar top.
Vander nodded, wiping his hands with the towel draped over his shoulder.
"Oi, Cairn!" he called over his shoulder. Somewhere, from a back room, a young darkly-complected teen appeared, a large bus tray in his shapely arms. Big hazel eyes looked to Vander before flitting between the crew behind the barman, and then once again landed on his summoner.
"I'm gonna step away for a bit. Watch the bar, wouldj'ya?"
Cairn nodded, his curly white hair bouncing with the movement. Vander tossed the towel under the bar and came around, gesturing for the others to follow him. Benzo was first, followed by Silco, who stubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray. An icy glance glinted Katya's way before the thin miner ambled behind the two larger men.
Sevika adjusted her stance to better look at her friend. Silver eyes big and pleading.
"Just . . . listen. Hear them – us – out."
Kayta's finger tightened around the handle of her mug and was led away from The Last Drop's main room.
Katya was led back to what appeared to be living quarters. Vander's, she supposed. She sat down at the round table where the three men had gathered, Sevika sitting next to her. The teen's eyes kept flitting between Katya and the others nervously.
"How long have you worked at the mines?" Benzo asked, breaking the silence.
"Since I was six," Katya answered, taking a small sip of her drink. She licked the foam off her lips as the bitterness of the hops settled against the back of her tongue. It wasn't bad. For the Undercity. "You?"
Benzo shook his head, ponytail swishing against his back. "Work at my ol' man's pawn and scrap shop. Took it over a few years ago when he up n' died."
"I'm sorry."
Benzo waved a fleshy hand, "Iss'fine. He was sorta a cunt anyhow."
Katya stiltedly nodded and took another nip of her ale. Her attention was caught by Silco handing Sevika a freshly rolled cigarette and another to Vander. He caught her staring as he swiped his tongue down the seam of a third. There was the briefest of pauses before he pressed the edges together and gestured it towards her, dark eyebrow lifting.
Katya's nose scrunched and she shook her head, letting her eyes drop back to her glass. Silco shrugged and placed the cigarette between his own lips.
"What? Not gonna offer me one?"
"Mmm," Silco non-answered, striking a match. He passed the matchbook to Sevika and Vander.
Benzo mumbled into his mug, "You rat-faced, little – "
"I think we should just cut to the chase," Vander broke in. He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. His eyes traced back and forth between Silco and Benzo, a friendly warning glinting behind them, before settling on Katya. "How much has Sev told you?"
Katya shifted in her seat, the wood creaking under her. Her amber eyes drifted between the three of them – Vander watching her patiently, Benzo with a tomcat grin on his face, Silco was unreadable. Sevika was the last to fall under Katya's gaze. She was trying to seem unbothered, but when Katya's disproving eyes looked to the cigarette between her lips, the tips of Sevika's ears blushed. Katya looked back to Vander.
"That you're trying to rally the Underground to fight Piltover."
"To fight for our independence," Silco added. His low, convicted voice cut across the table in a smooth blade. It sent shivers over Katya's skin, as did the hard look he fixed her with.
"We have a dream of a free nation," Vander said, his eyes looking over to Silco. Something like adoration filled them before they switched back to Katya. "To throw Piltover's bootheel off of the Undercity. To give our people a chance."
Katya's fingers tightened against her mug. "How do you plan to do such a thing?"
"We've already rallied a hundred or so people. People committed to this cause, to change. Right now, a decent chunk of them are miners – "
Katya looked to Sevika and Silco, eyes widening.
" – so when we decide to make our move, not only will it rattle the Pilties, it'll hurt their pocket books as well."
"There's Bone, too," Benzo chipped in, looking excited.
"Bone is in on this?" Katya breathed, disbelieving.
"Well, n-no," Benzo conceded, bravado faltering. "But it can only help us to have a fellow Trencher on the Council, right? We can pull him in once we build up a head of steam – "
"Your heads are full of something," Katya muttered, taking a swig of ale.
Vander's eyebrows creased. "We are making decent headway. We have Brothers and Sisters stretching all throughout the Undercity. The mines, the docks, Entresol, Sump, Promenade. People are tired. The Undercity – Zaun – is ready to lead itself. We just need to show them."
"You will get people killed."
"Hopefully not as many if you join us," Vander said, his tone reverent.
"Why would I matter?"
Vander shared a look with Sevika before returning to Katya. "Sevika has told us you're a good medic. We need that. Because people will get hurt. They already are. Enforcers beat us without the threat of a revolution, it will only get worse when the Children of Zaun step out of the shadows."
Katya snorted. Silco's eyes narrowed. Vander continued.
"We need someone with medical training – "
"I'm not trained."
"Know-how, then," Vander countered without batting an eye. "The Children of Zaun need someone with medical know-how to keep as many of us alive as possible. You're good at keeping people alive. Sev has told us about your brother. A lad like him in the Sump should've died ages ago, and yet you have kept him alive."
Vander smiled warmly at Katya. She knew he was trying to praise her, connect with her, make her feel like she could trust him with bringing up Viktor. But all it did was make her feel cornered, invaded. She bristled and felt her shoulders hike up.
"My brother is alive because he spends most of his time in Piltover," she shot back. "And this . . . foolishness you're talking about would greatly endanger his ability to stay at the Academy."
Katya felt warm. Anger rising beneath her collar. Her skin crawled as she sensed something unsaid that hung in the air.
"We're not looking to war with Piltover," Vander clarified. "We don't want to decimate them. We just want Zaun's independence, for our nations to be equals – "
"What aren't you telling me?" Katya snapped. "Why me? Why do I matter to you?"
Vander clamped his jaw shut and let out a weary sigh through his nose, clearly displeased with being interrupted. He took a long final drag from his cigarette and tossed it in a tin can that sat in the middle of the table.
"Sev says you do the orderin' at the mine's clinic," Benzo jumped in, giving Vander a chance to gather his thoughts.
Katya glared at him, nostrils flaring. "So what?"
Benzo's eyes went wide with confusion. He looked to Sevika, then Vander, then back to Katya. "So, she said that you . . . cook the books sometimes. Over order and distribute wears in the Lanes."
Katya went cold, mouth dropping in horror. Her stomach tumbled to her feet and her heart leapt into her throat. She looked at Sevika. The teen, realizing her mistake in Katya's reaction, timorously looked away. She plucked her cigarette from her lips and tipped the ash into the tin can.
"I – I can't believe you," Katya hissed once her mouth and tongue began working again.
Sevika set her jaw, mustering the courage to face her friend. "Kat, they won't – "
"We won't say anything," Vander finished. He fixed her with a steady, reassuring gaze. "We need your expertise and the supplies at your disposal. Katya – "
Katya was trembling as she pushed away from the table and got to her feet. She couldn't believe this. She had told Sevika in strict confidence about embezzling the mine's medical supplies; she had had the teen help her transport some of the larger orders out of the clinic, believing she could trust her. Who else had she blabbed to? Didn't Sevika understand that spreading this information jeopardized both Katya and Viktor? If Katya was found out and sent to Stillwater (or killed), Viktor's space at school would be forfeit. He'd die in the Sump. Alone. Abandoned. Forgotten.
Katya's breathing became ragged, panicked, as she pawed at her coat. She had to get out of there. Finally, her fingers pinched around one of the Cogs she had gotten in change from the oats. She flung it onto the table where it bounced with a resounding PING!
"For the drink," she spat. She didn't want any of the bartender's favors. "Fuck you," she added to no one, thereby implicating the whole table.
On shaky legs, Katya spun around and hurried out of the apartment. She heard Sevika calling her name. Katya ignored it. She burst through the door that led to the pub, causing the busboy Cairn to jump and spill the drink he was pouring. Before he could ask what the matter was, Katya was cutting across the floor, bumping into a few patrons as she went.
She stumbled out of The Last Drop into the chilly, humid night and paused to take a great, shuttering breath. She hadn't realized she was holding it. Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen and anxiety. She tripped to a stop, eyes wide and dry, breathing resuming in short pants. Her brain was short-circuiting.
Who else knew?
What did she need to do?
Was there anything to do?
Go home?
Run across the Bridge, get Viktor, and leave the Undercity before her crimes were found out?
How would she even do that? They didn't have enough money to leave.
As Katya froze to her spot on the cobblestone square, she started getting several questioning looks from people milling around, going about their evening. She was jolted back to life when a hand fell onto her shoulder. She gasped and spun around, her legs tangling together.
"Whoa, whoa!" chuckled a gruff voice. The stranger grabbed Katya's other shoulder to steady her. "Easy there, darlin'."
He leered at her with his four yellowing teeth. The smell of expired chewing tobacco heavy on his breath. His grip went from being supportive to controlling. "Ye need some help? Ye look outta sorts. Lemme help ya."
Before Katya could work up a wad a spit to shoot into the stranger's face, he was ripped off of her and thrown to the ground. Sevika's large boot stomped firmly into his chest, pinning him down.
"Don't touch her," the teen snarled. She pressed her foot down and the man beneath her sputtered and gasped, hands clawing at Sevika's leg.
"Hey! What's going on there?" a hollow, monotoned voice called through the crowd. Katya, Sevika, and the man's eyes snapped up and over to the voice.
Enforcers.
Two of them. Making their way through the crowds toward the small scuffle.
Faculties coming back online, Katya swept away into the masses. Sevika released the man out of under her boot and kicked him in the ribs before running as well.
"Stop!" the other Enforcer called as he tried to shoulder his way through the throngs of Undercity denizens.
By the time they made it to the spot of the altercation, the near-toothless man was picking himself back up, grumbling, before skulking away. The two girls were gone.
Katya slipped into an alley once she was a few streets away from The Last Drop. She had lost the Enforcers. But not Sevika.
"Kat! Kat, wait!"
Sevika reached a hand out for Katya's shoulder, wincing when she wrenched it away. Shocked when Katya turned around and pushed her into the brick wall.
"I can't believe you told them!" she grated, amber eyes wide with disbelief and hurt. Betrayal. "I can't believe you told them. Who else have you told?"
"No one – "
"Who have they told?"
"No one," answered a third voice.
Both Katya and Sevika's heads turned to the mouth of the alleyway to see Silco standing there. He watched the two women, eyes lingering on Katya's flushed face.
"We haven't told anyone else," he repeated, taking a step forward.
Katya stared at him, assessing. His face gave nothing away, nor did his tone of voice; the mocking lilt he had to her in earlier that day gone. He held her gaze easily.
"Come with me," Silco said. "I want to show you something."
Anger flared under Katya's skin again. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm going home."
She made to turn, but Silco's long arm shot out and grabbed her elbow. Adrenaline coursed through Katya's veins as she hurled back, ripping her arm out of his grasp. She pushed him, as she had Sevika, and took a couple steps back, right hand fumbling inside her coat. Silco, who seemed unphased, was quick to close the distance between them. Until he was stopped in his tracks, the barrel of a small snub-nosed pistol aimed up at his face.
Katya bared her teeth and her hands trembled. She hadn't used her father's pistol since the night he died, but she always kept it tucked in his coat. Sloppily, her thumb drew back the pistol's hammer. It clicked into place. Silco watched her with steady eyes.
"Katya," Sevika whispered. "C'mon. Don't do this."
In the brief moment Katya's attention was snagged by Sevika, Silco sprang forward. He moved so swiftly that Katya couldn't even process what he did. All she knew was that she was suddenly on the ground, pistol gone. Her arm heatedly thrummed from being twisted. Bewildered, she looked up, the gun now being aimed at her. Silco's expression remained neutral, but Katya caught the annoying glimmer of mirth in his teal eyes.
An actual grin cut his mouth as he lowered the weapon, resetting the hammer. He slid the cylinder out of the gun's frame and let out an amused huff seeing that it was actually loaded. He seemed pleased that she hadn't been bluffing. He took a moment more to inspect the small piece, before handing it back to her. Katya's brow crumpled and she tentatively stretched her finger tips for the handle.
When her hand wrapped fully around the pistol, Silco let go and repeated, "Come with me. I want to show you something."
He held out a large calloused hand. Katya stared at it before looking back up into his face. Silco seemed peeved, but something entreating and genuine sparkled in his intense blue eyes. Cautiously, Katya slipped her hand into his offered one. It was rough and warm. And strong as he lifted her onto her feet.
"Head back to The Drop, Sev," Silco ordered over his shoulder. "Tell Vander I'll be back later."
Sevika pouted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, fingers fidgeting at her sides. Making it clear she wanted to stay. Silco didn't offer, and after a moment Sevika turned and trudged out of the alleyway. Silco turned back to Katya and let go of her hand.
"Come on," he commanded, leaping up for the lowest wrung of a fire escape and pulling himself up.
Reluctantly, Katya followed.
"What do you want to show me?" she asked, as they climbed up the rickety iron steps.
Silco looked down at her from the landing above, eyes glittering.
"Zaun."