“You still owe us for those turkeys,” Dreadlocks said, gesturing at the pile of feathers and charred meat. “The forests are almost picked clean of game, and we can’t afford to lose them.”
Iggy crouched down and ran his hands over their meager supplies. “We don’t reall
y have anything to barter. Maybe we can pitch in?”
The leader regarded them coolly. “And what makes you think we need any help?”
“You know, with guy stuff.” Gazzy broadened his nine-year-old chest. “I know it can be hard without a man around. Any basic repairs you need done? Heavy lifting?”
Dreadlocks scowled, and her finger hovered over the trigger again, threatening to release the arrow.
“Jackie, don’t we have that thing we need done at the bottom level?” the dark-haired girl interrupted. “You know.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Gazzy and flashed a white, sharklike smile. “Men’s work.”
The leader frowned in confusion at first, but the other girls around the circle started to laugh. Iggy and the Gasman were definitely not in on it, but Gazzy grinned anyway, happy to have the attention of so many giggling girls at once.
Iggy’s expression was more uncertain. Without the benefit of sight, he was more attuned to the subtleties of sound, and he was pretty sure the laughter was at their expense.
Dreadlocked Jackie relaxed as she, too, understood what the dark-haired girl was implying. “Actually, come to think of it,” she answered, “there are some things we could use some muscle on. Thank God you showed up!”
50
“NICE GOING, DOOFUS,” Iggy grumbled.
“I was just trying to be neighborly,” Gazzy said, his voice echoing around the small room. “What if they had really needed our help?”
The boys were on their hands and knees, scrubbing crusty cement walls with hard-bristled brushes and heavy-duty chemicals. Iggy sat back on his heels and nodded at the armed guard he heard pacing the scaffolding above them.
“Pro tip, macho man: When someone has a crossbow pointed at your head, they’re probably not all that vulnerable.”
“I said I was sorry!”
The room was at least a hundred feet underground, at the very bottom of the silo. The dim light made it hard to see—and though that didn’t make much difference to Iggy, Gazzy was grateful. He didn’t want to know what the walls looked like, or what they were scrubbing.
They could both smell it well enough.
“ ‘Men’s work,’ ” Iggy scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh, would Max get a kick out of this. I can almost hear her laughing from across the ocean.”
“At least Max never made us clean toilets,” Gazzy said, dunking his brush into a rusty metal pail of cleaner.
“We call it the dump tank,” the guard called from above them. “We figured since most guys are crap, you two would feel right at home.”
“I’m pretty sure that girl with the black hair has a thing for me,” Gazzy said wistfully as they worked.
Iggy shook his head. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now? Man, you sure have a one-track mind.”
“Hey, she totally wiggled her eyebrows in my direction. I think she was checking out my wings.” Gazzy spread his wings proudly in the darkness, as if the girl were watching right now.
But Iggy was skeptical. “She was, like, probably almost twice your age.”
“Women dig a younger man. When we get out of here, I’m gonna make some fireworks—you know, romance her the old-fashioned way.”
“I’m glad someone has motivation.”
Iggy’s mind was on something else, though. He was remembering what the leader, Jackie, had said—that the woods were almost picked clean of food. The guys had thought they’d finally found an untouched paradise among all the wreckage, but it sounded like they wouldn’t be able to survive here for long. And neither would these girls.
“Gasman? I’ve been thinking,” Iggy said in a more serious tone. He heard Gazzy stop scrubbing for a second, waiting for him to continue. “Maybe we should join up with the flock again. Somebody needs to stand up to this Remedy dude, and there are obviously some tough survivors left in the world.”
As nervous as Iggy had been when they were first surrounded, when he’d learned that this troupe of street-smart survivors was against the Remedy, his spirit had been buoyed with hope.