Twisted Metal Heart - Eve Langlais Page 0,8
thought more than once of settling elsewhere, but she’d yet to muster the courage to live among people all the time. She preferred her short trips to towns and cities for business than living amidst them full time. Mostly because she feared discovery.
“Made even tougher because Enclave patrols hunt my kind down. They’ve made it their mission to eradicate us.”
“I think you over state your importance. The Enclave mostly concerns itself with immediate threats.”
“We are a threat. We will overthrow the Emerald queen.”
“Rebels.” Her turn to mock.
“Our number is growing.”
“Even if you have an army, you can’t fight against the Enclave soldiers. They will always be better equipped.”
“Not if they turn.”
“You’re assuming they want to.”
“Not all of them are as brainwashed as you.”
She arched a brow. “It’s not brainwashed. It’s called two sides to the situation. To you, the Enclave seems unfair, but to others, they see their decisions as being made for the benefit of the greater good.”
“At the expense of those who don’t fit into their narrow world view.”
“Nothing is perfect.” She shrugged. “But if you’re analytical about it, the Enclave did put in place a system that has benefitted and continues to allow thousands of citizens to thrive.”
“And how many thousands does it take living in shit conditions to maintain those cities and the ones benefitting?”
Her lips pressed into a line. He wasn’t entirely wrong. “As I said, not a perfect system. In every society, someone must work. Some harder than others.”
“It doesn’t have to be at the cost of freedom or at the mercy of power-hungry leaders.”
“Do you have a plan to replace those leaders and rules? Do you know how to manage a city of thousands?” It was odd to her to realize she enjoyed this verbal repartee. She didn’t agree with him, or him with her, yet it invigorated to discuss.
“How about starting with letting people be responsible for each other?”
“So you’re going to tell me you’re not part of a Wasteland tribe?”
His lips flattened.
“As I thought,” she stated. “Now, since neither of us will convince the other, perhaps we return to the topic at hand. You aren’t ready to leave yet.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He went to push himself off the bed.
“Let me help you.”
She reached for him, but he shied away with a barked, “No!” almost unbalancing himself on the one leg. He trembled with the effort of remaining upright.
“Difficult man,” she grumbled. She grabbed a chair and spun it for him so it sat within reach. “Don’t fall down. I don’t know if we have any spare teeth to replace those you might knock out.”
“I’m not falling,” he grumbled, leaning forward to grab the back of the chair and then swinging himself so he landed in it. He gave her a glare of triumph.
“You made it from the bed to the chair. Congrats. How many hundreds of miles is it to get home?” she dryly riposted.
“What makes you think I don’t live nearby?”
She snorted. “We’re on the edge of nothing. No one comes here.”
“You’re here,” he countered.
“Because no one comes close.”
He glanced around. “Seem pretty lavish for someone living nowhere.”
“Is that a threat?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Because I should mention I’m equipped to handle dangers.”
“Then why did you hesitate to bring me inside?” he argued. “You can’t tell me you didn’t see me coming. You could have had the citadel emerge sooner.”
“I could have,” she admitted.
“But didn’t.”
Her shoulders rolled. “Because we don’t like strangers.”
“We? There are other people here?”
She ignored his query for one of her own. “Where do you come from?”
“Where do you come from?”
Since he already guessed, she didn’t bother lying. “I used to live in the Emerald City.”
“You escaped?”
“Yes.” Just not in the way he expected. “Are you Wasteland born?”
He nodded. “Originally part of the Junkyard Tribe. They scattered when the Enclave confiscated their lands.”
“They didn’t fight to keep them?”
He shrugged. “Can’t fight something that’s a hundred times bigger than you. My family had a motto. Live to see another day.”
“Said by the man who thinks I should have let him die.”
“Never said I believed in it. And ask me how it worked for my parents in the end.”
Her lips pressed into a line. “Not everything ends badly.” Now if only she believed it.
“How else can it end? Look at me.” He gestured. “I can no longer protect. No longer scout. Or hunt.”
“Yet,” she reiterated, “I told you I can replace your limbs.”
“And I’m calling shit on your claim.”
She leaned in, smiled. “Do you