long way towards repaying what I owe you. I only regret there is nothing I can do to make this bounty disappear. Some things are beyond even me.”
Nothing worried me more than a black market operator admitting a bounty was beyond even him. All I could do was accept what neither of us could change with a nod. “Thank you, Noah.”
I meant it, too. Knowing what I was up against would help me defy the bounty right to the bitter end—and if the bounty hunters won, Noah wouldn’t have to worry about his life debt any more. I regarded the man with a slight frown. “Look for more information on this bounty, where it came from, and those hunting for me. Then we can call us even. My freedom is worth as much to me as my life.”
“You have a deal, Jade. I’ll see what I can find out, and then I’ll call us even.”
In some ways, I’d miss my ventures into Asylum to see the bastard, but I figured we’d both be better off freed from debt and obligation. “Take care of yourself, Noah. Send a runner if you find anything out. But you won’t, will you? You’ve already found out as much as you can. Am I right?”
Noah smiled. “I have, but because you asked it of me, I’ll look anyway. Watch your back.”
“I will.”
Friday, May 1, 2043.
Tulsa, Oklahoma.
The Alley.
* * *
In a few weeks, I wouldn’t even notice how drastically Tulsa’s outskirts had changed, but after a winter of few storms, the destruction served as a harsh reminder of how we’d live for the next six to nine months. Those in Asylum would barely notice—until harvest time came and there was no one left brave enough to gather the crops.
Assuming, of course, anyone braved the fields to plant the crops.
My first year in Tulsa, the nearby farmlands had been tended. The following years had seen a steady decline as the foolish and brave alike died to the strengthening storms. I gave it two to three years before nobody bothered to plant crops at all and relied on the East or West for food.
The Alley had already learned the hard way that the South had too many problems of its own to offer any help at all.
I considered planting my own crops in one of the storm cellars I’d claimed as my own. I’d have to skip into the East or the West to buy the right lights and supplies to make it happen, but I could. It might serve me best to convert one of the cellars into a proper home.
However much I hated it, Benedict Mansfield had the right idea with Asylum. Soon enough, nothing on the surface would be safe.
Once I considered the increasing risk of food shortages, I realized I needed to come up with a better solution soon. Neither the East nor the West would be able to supply the entirety of the Alley with food. Then again, maybe they would be able to if the storms got any worse.
It was only a matter of time before only ghosts resided in Tulsa.
I wondered if Asylum would become an underground garden in time, fully self-sufficient so it could survive without requiring assistance from the other quadrants within the United States. It might not even need Tulsa or its residents if Mansfield planned appropriately.
Then again, it wouldn’t surprise me if that was his real goal. Why else dictate who got to live and who got to die?
I walked along the border of the outskirts and Inner Tulsa, debating what to do. The bounty hunters after me would make returning to my usual flops risky at best.
As always, the storm claimed lives, and I stepped around them, muttering prayers to the uncaring gods—or god, if there was only one. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure I cared. It became harder and harder to believe in any greater powers when they showed such a disregard for life. The brave and foolish put their faith in those uncaring beings, and they all rested in shallow graves—if they were lucky enough to have graves at all.
Before I worried about planting crops, I needed to focus on dodging the collection of bounty hunters after me. My first step would be securing a new flop. I gave it even odds if my current place still stood, and I didn’t look forward to sneaking around to get the few possessions I had stashed there. I could replace my clothes—if I did