to resemble her melody. She improves the second time through, and only continues to get better. Neil ignores the PDA as his eyes lock on Inna. Her lips. The panpipes. He can almost feel the melody with the wind. Just then the PDA stops, as does Inna when she notices Neil staring.
“Sorry, it’s just some silly kid’s song,” she shamefully admits.
“Not when you do it.”
Inna smiles, unsure if Neil could really mean that. “She shared that with me. My grandma.” Inna points around the open clearing of the landfill. “This is what we did together.”
As she resumes playing, Neil takes in the surroundings, but this time everything is different. Picture frames. Vases. Art. The landfill is not full of trash – it’s pieces of humanity.
“Do you want to go for a ride?” Neil asks as the melody concludes.
“Last time I went near your truck we almost died.”
“And I got a new one out of it. Maybe this time I’ll get my next stripe,” Neil jokes.
Inna smiles. “You’re turning into quite the comedian, Neil Vaughn.” Neil extends his hand, but she shakes her head. “I can’t. I mean, I really shouldn’t. Damian expects me back before dinner.”
“Well at least let me give you a ride,” he offers. “Think of my truck as a giant wagon.”
Inna considers for a brief moment before she concedes. She nods her head in agreement.
Within the hour, Neil has Inna’s newly gathered items from the landfill unloaded on the porch of her antique shop. Little is said between them as neither of the two know how to conclude their outing together.
“Well okay…,” Neil musters.
It’s awkward, like a first date many years ago when dating was still allowed. Inna smiles and waves before heading inside, while Neil gives her a two-fingered salute, then immediately kicks himself as he turns back to his truck. He wonders why in the world he would salute her. He does that to other Collectors and Security Enforcement Officers, never an everyday citizen. But Inna isn’t just an everyday citizen. She’s different, though Neil can’t pinpoint how exactly.
As Neil hops in his truck, he glances to his PDA: three more missed calls from Slayter. He knows Slayter is going to be furious. He immediately begins to think of excuses to mitigate the situation. Perhaps he can say questioning the people in the slums took longer than expected, or that he received an emergency assignment from Adrianne he had to deal with. No matter, he’ll figure it out on the way. He fires up the engine and speeds off.
Little did both Neil and Inna know is that Damian has been watching from the upstairs window of the antique shop the entire time. The awkward interaction. The strange sight of a Collector going out of his way to transport a citizen home rather than to the transfer tunnels. Witnessing it all, Damian scowls from suspicion – and his overall bitterness at life.
Only a vase of artificial Eternity Flowers separates Wade’s apartment from being an exact replica of Neil’s. The Agency is strict in its standard issue housing, modern barracks for Collectors masked as apartments. Each detail is carefully selected for psychological reasons. The white sterile décor is intended to keep morale high, while the virtual fish tanks are aimed to provide the minimal amount of companionship required to properly function since Collectors are deterred from human relationships outside of their direct colleagues. Each apartment is stationed at least ten stories high, most of the time double that – such as Neil’s on the twenty-second floor – and the towering bird’s-eye view of the streets down below serve to reinforce the importance of the Collectors and their status in society. However, unlike all of the others, Wade’s apartment is in complete disarray. Couches shredded, drawers ripped open, trash dumped on the tables and counter. Neil looks to the crushed fake flowers scattered on the coffee table when Slayter appears from the
“Sorry, it’s just some silly kid’s song,” she shamefully admits.
“Not when you do it.”
Inna smiles, unsure if Neil could really mean that. “She shared that with me. My grandma.” Inna points around the open clearing of the landfill. “This is what we did together.”
As she resumes playing, Neil takes in the surroundings, but this time everything is different. Picture frames. Vases. Art. The landfill is not full of trash – it’s pieces of humanity.
“Do you want to go for a ride?” Neil asks as the melody concludes.
“Last time I went near your truck we almost died.”
“And I got a new one out of it. Maybe this time I’ll get my next stripe,” Neil jokes.
Inna smiles. “You’re turning into quite the comedian, Neil Vaughn.” Neil extends his hand, but she shakes her head. “I can’t. I mean, I really shouldn’t. Damian expects me back before dinner.”
“Well at least let me give you a ride,” he offers. “Think of my truck as a giant wagon.”
Inna considers for a brief moment before she concedes. She nods her head in agreement.
Within the hour, Neil has Inna’s newly gathered items from the landfill unloaded on the porch of her antique shop. Little is said between them as neither of the two know how to conclude their outing together.
“Well okay…,” Neil musters.
It’s awkward, like a first date many years ago when dating was still allowed. Inna smiles and waves before heading inside, while Neil gives her a two-fingered salute, then immediately kicks himself as he turns back to his truck. He wonders why in the world he would salute her. He does that to other Collectors and Security Enforcement Officers, never an everyday citizen. But Inna isn’t just an everyday citizen. She’s different, though Neil can’t pinpoint how exactly.
As Neil hops in his truck, he glances to his PDA: three more missed calls from Slayter. He knows Slayter is going to be furious. He immediately begins to think of excuses to mitigate the situation. Perhaps he can say questioning the people in the slums took longer than expected, or that he received an emergency assignment from Adrianne he had to deal with. No matter, he’ll figure it out on the way. He fires up the engine and speeds off.
Little did both Neil and Inna know is that Damian has been watching from the upstairs window of the antique shop the entire time. The awkward interaction. The strange sight of a Collector going out of his way to transport a citizen home rather than to the transfer tunnels. Witnessing it all, Damian scowls from suspicion – and his overall bitterness at life.
Only a vase of artificial Eternity Flowers separates Wade’s apartment from being an exact replica of Neil’s. The Agency is strict in its standard issue housing, modern barracks for Collectors masked as apartments. Each detail is carefully selected for psychological reasons. The white sterile décor is intended to keep morale high, while the virtual fish tanks are aimed to provide the minimal amount of companionship required to properly function since Collectors are deterred from human relationships outside of their direct colleagues. Each apartment is stationed at least ten stories high, most of the time double that – such as Neil’s on the twenty-second floor – and the towering bird’s-eye view of the streets down below serve to reinforce the importance of the Collectors and their status in society. However, unlike all of the others, Wade’s apartment is in complete disarray. Couches shredded, drawers ripped open, trash dumped on the tables and counter. Neil looks to the crushed fake flowers scattered on the coffee table when Slayter appears from the
Similar Books
