The Rig 02: Crystal Force by Joe Ducie

Author:Joe Ducie [Ducie, Joe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult SciFi
ISBN: 9781471404542
Publisher: Hot Key Books
Published: 2015-03-16T16:03:08.224000+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Falling With Style

Dinner the first night in the apartment was New York City pizza from a place called Lombardi’s. Drake helped himself to a slice topped with sausage, bacon and chilli flakes and, after his first bite, decided then and there he was never going to leave New York. It was approaching ten o’clock when they finished dinner, the table a mess of pizza boxes and soda cans. Both Irene and Tristan shuffled off to bed. Irene, Takeo and Noemi each had a room to themselves, while Drake was sharing with Tristan – in much more opulent conditions than they had been sharing on the Rig. Unable to sleep, he watched ten minutes of an old Spider-Man movie and found himself zoning out. At eleven o’clock, Takeo disappeared to bed, while Noemi stayed up on watch. They were going to split the guard between them, sleeping alternate shifts. At midnight, still wide awake, Drake began to think it was going to be a long night.

He went out on the balcony and practised his breathing, shivering a touch in the early-morning air. New York still hustled and bustled far below. The city that never slept seemed fitting to Drake, given his inability to rest, but although he wanted to head out and explore, he knew the Alliance would be on him fast, if they weren’t already. The apartment was defensible against threats from below, but had the Alliance already tracked them here? Had the smart cameras patched together their roundabout trip from the library down on Fifth Avenue? If he was trapped here, then couldn’t the Alliance just keep an eye on him from afar? Neutral territory, Noemi had said.

Again, a prison didn’t always have to be cold concrete and steel bars. So long as he was hunted, he would never be free.

Drake practised his breathing and worried what tomorrow – given the hour, later that day – might bring.

The morning brought cornflakes for breakfast and the better part of five days awake, give or take an hour’s worth of napping. Drake sat at the dining table next to the kitchen with Tristan. Noemi was sleeping after her shift standing watch. Takeo sat in the lounge, one loaded weapon at his side, and another disassembled for cleaning on the coffee table.

Even after the long night, Drake felt not even close to tired. More weary, as if he’d put in a hard but satisfying day’s work – and then been told to do it all over again, and smile this time.

At what point do I have to worry this is killing me? he wondered. Cornflakes taste different in America. Or maybe it’s the milk.

If Drake concentrated a little harder on how he was feeling, he could sense his body working overtime – pulling double, triple, quadruple shifts to keep up with the crystal transformation and long days without proper rest. I’d bloody sleep if I could. Working Tubes, clearing out the water pipes and worse, on the Rig had run him ragged for months, but at least he’d slept well after the work.

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