Dry Run Read online

  Devin bristled but didn’t say anything.

  To Boggs, Joe said, “I don’t train. There’s no money in it.”

  Boggs eyed Joe’s face. Joe worked to keep his breathing steady and his posture relaxed.

  “I’ll pay you the equivalent of two runs a day for the next two weeks. C’mon Joe. It’ll be like a vacation.” Boggs smiled like he was giving Joe a present.

  “Three runs a day, and when training’s done, he’s mine.”

  Devin jerked the hand that was fidgeting with his pants and tore the slit open from the top of his thigh around as far as Joe could see. Devin winced, and Joe understood why. Devin had obviously covered himself on the walk down — a hood and gloves sat in his lap — so he’d had enough sense to wrap himself in sil-fab so he didn’t blister under the sun’s rays. Now, though, his thigh would burn. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not a fag, dude, and I don’t belong to anyone.”

  Joe glanced sideways at Devin’s face and caught the brunt of his glare. He ignored him and turned back to Boggs, whose eyes were narrowed.

  “He means he wants you for his running partner, Devin,” Boggs said, but he didn’t take his eyes off Joe. “What about Bea?”

  “Reassign her.”

  “I could keep you with her and have two A+ teams.”

  “Who would you partner him with? Bring someone up from B? I don’t think so. I know your stable, Mr. Boggs. He doesn’t fit with any A runners, and anyone from B would drag down his value. Put him with me and think about how much money we’ll make you.”

  Boggs put his elbow on his desk and his chin on his hand. His attention flitted between Joe and Devin. Joe knew he was considering how he’d market them. Who would pay. How much they’d pay.

  “Two point five runs a day, and he’s yours when you’re done training him, assuming you’ve trained him well.”

  Joe grinned and reached out his hand for Boggs to shake.

  Devin jumped to his feet. “Hey, wait a minute. You said I’d be with a girl. You said no fag stuff. We had a deal.”

  “I said I would find you a good placement. You are always free to leave.” Boggs’s voice would freeze rain. The kid must be desperate if Boggs was willing to take a chance on him walking.

  Devin growled and stomped to the bulletproof mirrored glass that made up the office’s lone window. The street outside was deserted except for a few scavengers lured out during the daytime by the temperate late fall air.

  Joe wasn’t feeling particularly generous toward Devin for taking jabs at his sexuality and his ethnicity, but that blond hair would rake in the cash. “I’m the best there is, Devin. I’m Mr. Boggs’s premier player. I’ll train you better than anyone, and together, we’ll make so much money.”

  He almost added, “and I’ll keep you safe,” but he could tell how well that would be received, no matter how true it was or how much Devin clearly needed protection. Even in the heat of the day, when the streets were all but deserted, pretty blond boys would be eaten alive. It was a wonder he’d made it down from the hills and into this office.

  Devin turned away from the window. He shoved his hands in his back pockets, but his stance was defensive. “How much?”

  “More than you can imagine. Now, we’ve got” — Joe checked his timepiece — “roughly two hours of daylight left. It’ll take us a while to walk back to where we stay, and trust me, you don’t want to be out on the streets near dark. If you want to walk back to the hills, I can promise you, you’ll never make it.”

  “Bastard.”

  Without reacting, Joe watched Devin. This kid was going to test his patience, and he couldn’t let loose on him the very first day.

  “Mr. Boggs, I’m heading back to the Flats now.” Joe shook Boggs’s hand again. Professional. Disinterested.

  “Always a pleasure to see you, Joe. Candy sends her warmest regards.” Boggs flashed a quick smile and bent his head to his tablet.

  Joe knew what would happen. Only one outcome made sense. He opened the door and waited five beats of his heart before Devin was moving past him, grumbling the whole way. Joe glanced at Boggs, who was watching again, and winked.

  Devin toed at a scuff in the carpet. “Are we going or not?”

  Joe smiled. “Right this way.”

  ***

  “This is a fucking dump, you douche.”

  Joe sighed and kept his voice even. “You’ll have three healthy meals a day and a mattress to sleep on. Water for showers, too.”

  “I’m not going in there,” Devin said.

  The Flats was housed in an old brick warehouse. It didn’t look like much, with its peeling gray paint and broken windows on some of the upper floors. The place was solid, though, and the security was top-notch.

  “You really have no choice, big guy.” Joe had been walking a step ahead of Devin, but he turned around now to make eye contact. His new charge was scowling, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Clean sheets,” Joe added. He bit his lip at Devin’s snort. “Sex.”

  “I don’t want sex with you, you fucking gayboy.”

  “I didn’t mean with me, Devin,” Joe said through gritted teeth. “With girls. Clean, disease-free girls. As long as you stick to the ones I tell you to.”

  Devin hesitated. “I don’t care about sex.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  Joe had to stifle a snort of his own. “You care about sex. Now, let’s go inside and get started.”

  Without giving Devin time to object, Joe rapped on the heavy metal access door. A camera perched overhead scanned the area from one side of the building to the other before the door swung open to reveal Oliver, the back-door security guard.

  Oliver saluted Joe and shared a nod with Devin.

  “He’s a Trans-Mexican War vet,” Joe whispered as they walked away, nodding over his shoulder at Oliver. “Almost never talks.” He led Devin to a hallway off to the left and through the first door they reached.

  Inside the small room, Joe made a quick introduction of their tech specialist, Marlette, who stood and made her way around a cluttered desk. She reached out to shake hands with Devin. Given Devin’s earlier reaction about skin color, Joe braced for a bit of ugliness, but Devin grinned and gently shook Marlette’s hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing? Joesy, you could learn a thing or two about manners from this boy.” Marlette ruffled Joe’s hair as she passed, her long, polished nails scraping his scalp, then began to dig through a file drawer.

  “Ha.” Devin’s voice was quiet in Joe’s ear, and Joe rolled his eyes and let Devin have his triumph.

  “Marlette’s in charge of all the security and ID measures, so she’s going to get you IDed and into our system. When she’s done, you’ll have clearances for various areas of the Flats.”

  “Over here, honey.” Marlette gestured to a chair in the corner.

  Devin nudged his way past Joe and sat down.

  “Wipe your hands with this cloth, sugar. Now, this here machine’s gonna take an iris scan and fingerprints. After that, I’ll get you logged into the system while you head over to Doc’s for a physical. Put your chin on the little cup there and stick your fingers on the pad in front of you.”

  Devin did as instructed, and the light from the iris scanner dragged across his blue-lightning eyes. It slipped back in the other direction, and the machine beeped.

  “All done, young man.” Marlette smiled at Devin, who got up from the chair.

  “Is there anything else you need from me, ma’am?”

  Marlette shook her head. “We’ll get your photo once you’re cleaned up a bit. Go on with Joesy now, and I’ll get you set up in the system. Until it kicks in, you can use Joe’s security clearance, assuming you’ll be…”

  “He’s with me,” Joe said.

  Devin growled in the background but didn’t contradict him.

  “Well, welcome aboa
rd.” Marlette gave a cheery wave and sat behind her desk. She was typing on her monitor, nails clicking and clacking, before Joe and Devin left the room.

  Out in the hallway, Joe paused. “The next stop is for your physical, then we’ll take you to Req and get some supplies for you before heading upstairs.”

  “What’s upstairs?”

  “Living quarters, but listen, before we do that…” Joe dropped his voice and moved as close to Devin as he thought he could without Devin taking a step back and starting in on the no homo stuff again. “Wherever we are, stay within arms’ reach of me. Don’t move away. Trust no one but me. Unless I tell you otherwise, assume everyone here, everything here, intends to cause you harm.”

  “Jesus, paranoid much? Or is this more bullshit about you owning me?” Devin shoved his hands in his pockets and drew his brows. He could almost pass for tough, standing that way.

  “It’s called keeping your baby butt safe. If you weren’t going to make me a load of money, I wouldn’t care what happened to your surly jerk self.”

  Devin opened his mouth, no doubt to bite off some rude reply, when the door behind him opened and Doc Vail slithered into the hallway.

  “Joesy.” Vail’s eyes popped with delight. “I thought I heard your charming voice out here. Is this the new little worker Mr. Boggs has found us?”

  “Yes.” Joe tried to pack both menace and nonchalance into the word. The result was pathetic. He sounded like a snotty teenager on one of those telenovelas his stepmother had loved. “Devin, Dr. Vail’s going to make sure you’re healthy.”

  Vail’s creepy watery eyes moved over Devin from head to toe, and Joe’s skin crawled. “Well, aren’t you a lovely specimen, Mr. Devin. Do come in.”

  Devin went inside, but when Joe tried to follow, Vail blocked the door. “He doesn’t need you in here, Joesy. People appreciate their privacy.”

  “I’m coming in, Vail, and you’re either going to move aside to let me or I’m going to move you.”

  Joe planned to give Vail until the count of ten before he made good on the threat, but Vail relented much faster than expected. Maybe their last encounter had left a strong enough reminder.

  “Here.” Vail withdrew an exam gown from a drawer and tossed it on a chair. “Change into this.”

  “Wait in the hall,” Joe said.

  “Of course.” The door slammed as Vail left.

  “Creep show.” Joe rested his back against the door and folded his arms over his chest.

  “What’s the deal?” Devin stripped off his shirt and snaked his way out of his pants. The skin on his thigh had blistered where he’d torn the hole in his pants, but it didn’t look too bad. He threw the gown over his chest while Joe gathered his thoughts.

  “He’ll have to touch your balls, just cup them with his hand, but he’s not supposed to touch you anywhere else sensitive, okay? Hold your dick out of his reach when he’s down there.”

  “Did he…” Devin didn’t seem to know how to finish the sentence, and Joe was grateful. That made the implication easier to ignore.

  “Take off your shorts and sit down so I can let him back in and we can get this over with.”

  Devin nodded and did what he was told.

  The exam went fine, and Joe was convinced it was because he stood half a foot away, carefully watching Vail through the entire thing. Devin, with his height and muscles that were obvious in the hospital gown, was probably an intimidating figure to wimpy Vail, too — a much bigger threat than the battered and skinny brown fourteen-year-old Joe had been the first time he’d stepped in this room, at least.

  Afterward, Joe took Devin by Ángel in Req and got him a pair of running shoes, a couple changes of clothes, a bag of toiletries, and a pillow, all housed in a trash bag. They paid a visit to Aesthetics, where the worker gave Devin a shave, haircut, and a TI injection that would leave him hairless save for his head and eyebrows. She also felt up his chest for an uncomfortably long time before Joe leaned down and whispered “PRD” in Devin’s ear. It was almost comical, the way Devin shot out of the chair, but no one wanted dick-withering disease. Joe smirked and led Devin to the elevator.

  Time spent in Aesthetics was a pain in the ass — Joe hated getting his curly, unruly hair cut — but this visit confirmed his bet that Devin would bring in more and higher-paying clients. True, Devin was white, and that was most important, but he was also tall and muscular, and now that Joe could see his face properly, the kid was a knockout. High cheekbones, large, wide-set eyes, full lips, a strong, angular jaw — Devin had it all.

  Joe caught himself staring and hurried on with business. “Now, the floors are coded based on team assignments. There are four assignment levels — A, B, C, and D — and each letter gets a floor. D teams are housed on the second floor, C on the third, and so on. We’re A, so we get the fifth floor. We have access to the floors below us, but none of the lower-level runners are allowed in our quarters. You’ll see. The iris scans and mass of occupants have to match up to known A-floor residents in order for the elevator doors to open. Marlette should have you in the system now, so just—”

  Joe grasped Devin’s arm to move him in front of the iris scanner, but Devin jerked his arm away.

  Joe sighed. “You’re going to have to let me touch you. I don’t care if you don’t let anyone else here lay a hand on you, but you and I, we’re going to be partners, and that means touching once in a while.”

  “’S weird,” Devin mumbled, his face pointed toward the floor. “I’m not used to it.”

  “I’ll try to warn you first. How’s that?”

  “Fine.”

  That was the best compromise Joe figured he’d get, so he didn’t press it. He took a deep, fortifying breath before continuing. “Stand in front of this display panel. It’ll scan your iris, easier than when you got the original done. Nothing scary.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Got it, big guy.”

  Devin did as he was told, then skirted the edge of the elevator until he was on the side opposite Joe. “In that boss’s office, you said something about us being an A+ team. What does that mean?”

  Joe couldn’t help his smirk. He wasn’t usually interested in boasting, but it wouldn’t hurt with this kid. “It means I’m the best. You, too, now.”

  “But what does that mean, ‘the best’?”

  “Prettiest. Smartest. Fastest. Palest.” It also meant he was great at sex and always got an erection without resorting to drugs, no matter how gross the job, but he wasn’t about to tell Devin that.

  “Biggest asshole.”

  Joe shrugged. The words hadn’t felt as good as he’d thought they would. “That stuff is why the clients are willing to pay more money for a run with me than with any of the other teams. A+.”

  “Right.” Devin shuffled around a bit. He watched his feet for a moment, then glanced at Joe. His cheeks were pink. “How’d they decide you were prettiest? You win a beauty contest?”

  “Boggs took your picture before I came in his office, right? He has a program that analyzes face shape and attributes and compares them to a database of what New Americans find attractive. I’m the closest match.”

  “He didn’t tell me any of that shit.”

  “You’re blond with blue eyes. You don’t need the rest.”

  Devin opened his mouth, and Joe cut him off.

  “Before you start on the José stuff again, know that just because our clients place a premium on skin color doesn’t mean you matter more or are better than anyone else.”

  “I wasn’t…” Devin spluttered. He finished with a mumbled, “Fucker.”

  Once they exited the elevator and entered the A dorm, Devin resumed his complaints.

  “This is a fucking flophouse, dude.”

  “Keep your voice down and come with me.”

  Devin stood two feet away from the door and pronounced his judgments. “No, man. Your shitass boss didn’t say shit about living in a room full of
other people and mattresses on the floor.”

  “Move. Now,” Joe gritted out through clenched teeth. “Or the people in this room will decide they don’t like you very much.”

  In truth, only about half the A runners were around right now and none of them would cross Joe, but angering everyone by insulting the way they lived wouldn’t make fitting in any easier. Devin scowled at him, but as Joe walked toward his room, Devin’s footsteps followed.

  Joe pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and locked it again behind them. He surveyed the brick-walled room, trying to see it from Devin’s eyes. A double mattress, with real sheets and everything, lay on the gray vinyl floor. He had two windows. Under the window by the head of his mattress, a small shelf housed a few books and a lamp. Under that sat a crate containing toiletries and spare clothes. A blue suitcase rested on the floor at the foot of the mattress.

  Devin took up a massive amount of space in the small room. For the first time, Joe found himself wishing his new partner would talk.

  “There are only two private rooms in the whole flat. Ebony gets the other because she’s pregnant and the kid is about to pop.”

  “Why do you get a room? You pregnant, too?”

  “Ha. Ha. I told you. I’m the best we’ve got. That achievement has its perks.”

  Joe waited while Devin, hung in suspended animation in the middle of the floor, rolled that around in his head. To kill time, Joe fantasized about getting a crowbar to pry open Devin’s skull and see if there was a brain in there at all.

  Someone knocked. Joe scooted around Devin and answered the door.

  Bea stood there, fist raised and poised to knock again, half a smile frozen on her lips. Her eyes had already begun to narrow.

  Oh, this was going to hurt.

  “Whoa,” Devin muttered.

  Bea gave Devin a quick once-over and glared at him. “Who’s the dipshit, Joe?”

  Not a great beginning.

  “He’s, um, Devin. Look, Bea, Boggs wanted to talk to me because he found this guy… Well, obviously you can see what he is, and—”

  “White bread. Yeah, I see. Why’s he in here with you?”