Pipe Dreams Read Online Free Page B

exhausted and shivering, she limped to bed.
    In the morning, red-eyed and sore, she lingered at the window. Hercules had come and gone — his scrawny frame a sad reminder of her untenable life. Thinking of Isaac, her lips curled in a wan smile. What would she do without him? He had been her touchstone since her parents died and last night had been no exception. They had lit a candle, whispered an ancient prayer, and read aloud from one of the forbidden texts. His wavering voice had, again, returned a small measure of grace to her shattered soul. She shook her head, willing away the memory of her driver ’s violent lust, and vowed to be more careful.
    On the street, Vanessa tried not to dwell on the loss of her morning meditation in the park or the girl she had found under the bench. It was enough to be alive and walking. The day was overcast and cool. Devoid of cars, the wide street stretched like a calm, gray river. Outside the Zone, rollup doors or iron gates covered the storefronts. Once, they had dissuaded thieves and vandals. Now, pried open or hanging loosely, they were like broken teeth. When the wind picked up, their loud rattle got into her bones.  The body of an old woman lay against a gray building. Blue skinned, starved, and dirty, it looked more like a prop than a person. Vanessa shivered and quickened her pace. 
    At the small Brownstone, she sat on the cement steps and waited. Across the street, the heavy green of swaying leaves soothed her. Parks had always been among her favorite places. Time slowed and the world rested inside their orderly fences. As a girl, lying on the grass, with the city sounds muted by foliage, she had watched clouds and imagined her future. Those dreams contrasted sharply with her current reality.
    The People ’s Protest had shattered everything she knew. Bedraggled hippies had spawned violence unimaginable, rendering the once peaceful city a war zone. Had the Blue Flu not simultaneously affected the mainland, the rebellion wouldn’t have been so deadly and the administrators wouldn’t have been able to seize the opportunity it provided to implement the NSO. Even though she had lived through it, it was still hard to believe.
    She glanced at Isaac ’s door. He should have come out by now. Unable to wait any longer, she headed to the bus stop. He was not there and this worried her. Was he ill? He had seemed fine last night. She frowned, upset with herself. Why hadn’t she gone inside to check on him? On the bus, she missed his reassuring presence, a promise that all was not wrong with the world.
    Vanessa found a seat, drew her narrow shoulders together, and stared out the window. The bus lurched into motion and began its wide arc around the Zone, picking up workers unfortunate enough to live on the edge. On the street, the patrols circled. They were vultures and she was carrion. Like Prometheus, she mended by night only to be torn apart each day. Averting her eyes, she stared at her hands, fingering the small tattoo on her left ring finger where she had been marked as impure.
    At the sorting office, she wedged her body past the sharp knees of her fellow passengers.  Their eyes tracked her, but no one spoke. The older workers had retreated so far into themselves that nothing showed on their dull faces. In front of the building, a few of the Fallen drifted, vacant-eyed. Why they were allowed in the Zone during the day? Was it to remind workers that they, too, could share a similar fate?  Vanessa grimaced and hurried into the lobby.
    Her office was located on the second floor of an old accounting firm. Today, her aching legs couldn ’t handle the stairs so she took the elevator. When the door slid open, she entered quickly, keeping her eyes down. The teenaged workers tittered with excitement as they talked about the games they would play on Sunday and the people they hoped to see.
    She stole a glance at them, searching for evidence, but their faces looked ordinary. Her stomach