Boneyards & Badlands: The Complete FTW Series Read online

  “I’m not sure what your system is, but I’m sure I’ve never been in it. I’d never even entered your world. Up until a few hours ago I’d lived my entire life inside the boneyard.”

  I take a small amount of satisfaction from the shocked expression on his face. He tries to say something a few times, but it looks like I’ve left him speechless.

  Not bad for a girl from the boneyard.

  Jameson stays silent for the rest of the trip. From his expression he looks deeply troubled, no doubt thinking about how I escaped.

  The aircar we’re in slows and circles the top of a building. Through my window I can see the top of the building is a massive, gleaming glass dome.

  As we complete a circle around the building, part of one outside wall tilts forward.

  The entire surface of the wall is covered with a single ‘FTW’ logo, and as the aircar descends we land in the middle of the ‘T’.

  “Welcome to the world headquarters of FoxTech Worldwide,” Jameson says as we land.

  The second the aircar comes to a halt a man rushes over and opens the door. Jameson gets out first then reaches his hand back to me.

  I take it and he helps me step out of the aircar, and I’m glad I’m holding onto his hand because the wind smashes into me.

  “Don’t worry, you’re quite safe,” Jameson says over the wind.

  He leads me by my hand towards a set of glass doors, which slide open as we near them. We enter a corridor which sends my brain for a loop.

  The walls either side of me are covered in plants. Actual, real live plants!

  People have always told me that after what FTW did to the planet there wasn’t any plant life left. Standing here I can’t even count how many little plants there are, there must be thousands.

  I stand there staring at them, my mouth hanging open. Jameson stops a few steps ahead of me and looks back.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  “No, I can’t imagine you would have. Here,” he said reaching out and picking a plump-looking red thing from one of the plants, “try this. It’s a strawberry. They’re delicious.”

  I look at him, unsure if I should trust him. He smiles at me as if he knows why I’m hesitant and then takes a bite from the strawberry.

  He picks another from the plant and hands it to me. I sniff it and it smells pleasant enough, so I take a bite and the flavor explodes in my mouth.

  As he leads me further, inside my mind drifts back to our conversation in the car. Jameson said he has a way of knowing where anyone is at any given moment.

  I file that piece of information away for later on.

  When we reach the end of the corridor Jameson ushers me towards a small set of stairs leading up.

  The view from up here is incredible. We’re now standing at the very top of the building inside the massive glass dome.

  From up here I can see all the way to the horizon. The only interruption in the glass are gleaming stainless steel pillars that arc over our heads and join at the top of the dome.

  Set a few feet back from the glass is a small wall which circles the room. It follows the curve of the dome, only broken at the stairs where we entered.

  When I ask Jameson its purpose, he laughs and says it’s for stopping people getting too close to the glass.

  The glass is spotless to the point of being almost invisible, so I guess I can see how that’d happen.

  Jameson leads me towards the center of the room and tells me to sit down.

  “My son will be along in a minute,” he says.

  I nod, unsure of what to say.

  “That’d make him your brother,” Jameson pauses for a second like he’s thinking. “Well, half-brother.”

  I probably look like a complete idiot, sitting here in silence. My mind is still blank. The shock of all this is overwhelming.

  “You needn’t be afraid of me, if that’s what’s bothering you,” Jameson says. “In fact now you’re here I doubt there’s anything to be afraid of again. Being a Fox has its advantages.”

  I’m about to say something to Jameson when he stands up and gestures towards someone behind me.

  “Ah, Reed, glad you could join us. Have I got a surprise for you!”

  The man walking across to meet us is a few years older than me. He’s tall and has the strong, confident swagger I’ve seen too often from hounds in the boneyard.

  “Echo, I’d like you to meet your brother, Reed.”

  Reed pulls me in and hugs me tight and my body and mind freeze, unable to shake the thought of hounds.

  “Great to meet you, sis,” Reed says as he lets me go.

  “S-same,” I reply, my mind loosening as his grip does.

  “I bet this is all a bit of a surprise for you, hey? From the boneyards to a scion of the most powerful family on the planet in one day... that’s impressive.”

  I smile and nod, still unsure of what to say.

  “Dad,” he says turning towards Jameson, “how about we call it a day? We should have a proper dinner, welcome Echo here into the family.”

  Jameson agrees, and a short while later we’re back in the aircar and flying over the city. From up here all the buildings look identical, except for the one with Jameson’s glass-domed office.

  Jameson points out a building we’re headed towards and tells me the top five floors are where I’ll be living from now on.

  After the aircar lands we’re met by a half-dozen people waiting to help us. Jameson beckons someone over and introduces me.

  “Echo, this is Rosalie,” Jameson says. “She’ll be your personal maid from now and she’ll help you get settled and show you around. If you need anything, just ask her.”

  By my reckoning Rosalie is a little older than me, maybe around same age as Kara is.

  Was.

  As much as it pains me I push the thought of Kara from my mind. I don’t want to break down here in front of everyone.

  Rosalie doesn’t look directly at Jameson, or any of us for that matter. Her gaze is fixed towards the ground as if examining our shoes.

  “So go get settled in and later Rosalie will bring you down for dinner,” he says, snapping his fingers.

  Rosalie looks towards me, not quite meeting my eyes.

  “This way, ma’am. I’ll show you to your room.”

  10 - Clothes

  I follow Rosalie through the enormous rooms of Jameson’s house. For most of my life I’ve lived inside small, cramped metal shelters made from old aircars and other scrap.

  They’ve always been enough for me though. I can’t imagine ever needing this much space to live in.

  Rosalie leads me to a room that’s at least as big as our entire camp site. As we walk to the far side Rosalie points out a few things and tells me how to summon her if ever I should need her.

  “Also,” she continues, “I have taken the liberty of ordering new clothes for you if you would like to change out of the police attire, ma’am.”

  “Um, okay. Sure, and Rosalie you can call me ‘Echo’ you know.”

  “No, ma’am, I really cannot,” Rosalie says, still not looking me in the eyes.

  She pushes a button set into the wall and with a soft hum it slides away to reveal a cavernous room full of clothing.

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s a lot of stuff. Which one should I put on?”

  Rosalie directs me behind a large timber screen set up in the middle of the room.

  “I have selected underwear for you already if you would like to start with those. I will return in a few moments with something suitable for you to wear for dinner.”

  Rosalie leaves me behind the screen and I look at the two pieces of clothing she’s selected. They’re awfully small and don’t look at all practical.

  She had called them ‘underwear’, so perhaps they’re supposed to go under other things I’m wearing.

  I undress and pull on the tiny pants, and as I suspected they don’t cover much of me at a
ll. On one panel of the screen is a mirror taller than me, and I look at myself standing around in these silly little pants and hope whatever Rosalie comes back with is bigger than these.

  The other piece of clothing is completely baffling.

  It’s mostly made of straps apart from two cup-shaped pieces in the middle. I find on one end there a series of little loops which look like they clip into the other side.

  I join the ends together and I get an inkling of how I’m supposed to wear it.

  I unclip the ends and put my arms through the straps. The cup-parts fit snugly over my breasts but I can’t see how I’m supposed to join the ends together behind my back.

  After trying for a little while I give up and pull my arms back through the straps. I spin the whole thing around so the cups are resting against my back and I do up the clips.

  Satisfied I’ve got this worked out now I spin the whole thing around again and pull it up, sliding my arms through the straps again.

  Success!

  It feels a little restrictive but I guess I’ll get used to it. While I wait for Rosalie to return, I bounce on my toes and move around to get a feel for the clothing.

  I can see the advantages of this top piece already. It keeps everything from moving around too much, which I imagine would be useful if I was running or climbing through stacks of garbage.

  When Rosalie returns, she hands me a white shirt with lots of buttons. She offers to help me, which I accept. Given what I went through with the last piece of clothing I don’t want to make a fool of myself.

  Rosalie helps me into the shirt and buttons it up. She hands me the next piece which looks like a mess of dark-red material.

  “That’s a weird set of pants,” I say. “Where do my legs go?”

  “It’s a skirt, ma’am,” Rosalie answers, still not looking directly at me.

  She holds it low to the ground and I step into it. When she pulls it up to my waist, the bottom of the skirt comes to just below my knees.

  I look at myself in the mirror again. This wouldn’t be practical in the boneyard, it’d snag on everything.

  When Rosalie hands me a pair of shoes to put on I form the opinion that almost everything in this world is built to be as impractical as possible.

  The heel of the shoe is raised a few inches from the ground. When I try to walk in them I wobble and it’s only Rosalie’s quick reflexes that stop me from crashing to the ground.

  “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, ma’am. Perhaps we should practice walking before we go down.”

  I consider taking them off and pulling on the trusty boots I’m familiar with, but when Rosalie sees me looking towards them she shakes her head no.

  “Let’s get this over with then,” I say, feeling like a complete idiot at not being able to walk.

  With Rosalie’s help I learn within a few minutes how to walk in these ridiculous things she calls ‘pumps’.

  When I’m confident of not falling on my ass, Rosalie shows me to the dining room where Jameson and Reed are already waiting.

  They stand as I approach and don’t sit again until I take my seat. The table before me is enormous and covered in all kinds of things that smell fantastic.

  “I had the cooks put on a bit of a display,” Jameson says. “From what I understand you’ve probably spent your life living on protein bars. This,” he says waving a hand across the table, “is what real food looks like. There aren’t many people in the world who can afford this, but for those of us fortunate enough, it’s an indulgence well worth the expense.”

  As I look over the spread of food my mouth waters. There are so many things of different colors I’m unsure where to start.

  Jameson suggests a few items so I start with those. I pick off only the smallest of portions which makes both Jameson and Reed laugh.

  Reed tells me not to be shy and dig in, and he scoops a large spoonful of something onto his plate.

  We eat in silence for a few minutes, my taste buds exploding at the different flavors. Eventually Jameson looks at me like he’s ready to ask me something.

  “How did you find life in the boneyards? I imagine it’d be pretty tough,” he asks.

  “Yes, very,” I reply. “There’s not much food or water. It can be a very dangerous place.”

  “Reed here spends a lot of his time down in the boneyards. Isn’t that right, son?”

  I’m so overwhelmed by the taste of what I’m eating it takes me a few seconds to register what Jameson just said.

  “Too true,” Reed replies. “I volunteer time delivering protein bars and medical supplies to the needy. They might choose to live outside our world but that doesn’t mean we should ignore them. We’ve got a responsibility to help where we can.”

  Reed doesn’t take his eyes off me as he talks. My mind focuses away from the food and towards the conversation. The realization that Reed is a hound hits home and I’m once again light-headed.

  Jameson is talking but I can no longer hear him. I just keep staring at Reed, unblinking as he stares back at me. My mind is blank and a high-pitched whine in my ears is all I can hear.

  Reed turns to face Jameson. When his eyes break contact with mine reality snaps back. Jameson asks me a question.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” I say trying to think quickly. “All of this food, it’s just so overwhelming.”

  “No matter, I had merely wondered if you had come across Reed during your time in the boneyard. I believe he’s visited the one you’re from a few times.”

  “Um,” I say while scratching my head to stall for time. “Um, he doesn’t look familiar. I haven’t seen many upper-worlders though. I try to keep to myself.”

  My breathing is getting heavy. The thought of being so close to a hound is making me panic. The only thing keeping me from going full-blown is knowing that surely he wouldn’t do anything to someone he knew is his sister.

  Jameson is about to say something when a device on his wrist beeps urgently.

  “Damn it. I need to deal with this,” he says, standing from the table and looking at his wrist. “Echo, please feel welcome to eat as much as you want, and when you’re done Rosalie will help you back to your room.”

  Jameson strides from the room while talking into the device. Once the door is closed Reed stands up, walks around and grabs my shoulder. His grip holds me tight. I couldn’t run even if I could get my legs to obey.

  “Don’t say a damn word about the boneyards. Dad’s too stupid to know what I do. He thinks I’m some kind of bleeding-heart aid worker. But you know. I saw it on your face. So if you know what’s good for you you’ll keep your mouth shut. I can easily send you back there, and I’d drop you straight into the rats nest.”

  I nod my acceptance, unable to speak or look at him. He jabs a finger into my shoulder then walks out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

  Rosalie comes and gets me a few minutes later. I’m too numb to move, so she helps me to my feet, then places my arm over her shoulders and helps me back to my room.

  Later, I’m sitting on my bed lost in my own thoughts when a soft knock comes from the other side of my bedroom door. It opens without a sound and Jameson is standing there.

  “Mind if I come in?” he asks.

  “Of course not,” I reply, and Jameson walks over and stands by my bed.

  “I was wondering if you had any questions for me,” he says.

  My mind burns with the ones I most want to ask. Who was he to my mother? How had they known each other? Who was she to him?

  In the end I say, “Nothing, right now,” because I’m worried I might offend him with that line of questioning.

  Jameson stands there silently for a while with the look of deep concentration.

  “I have a question for you, if you don’t mind,” he says at last.

  “Of course not,” I reply, “you can ask me anything.”

  “It’s a bit of a delicate subject I guess, but... can you tell me about your moth
er?”

  I sit there, blinking in astonishment.

  “You... you don’t know who she was?”

  “As embarrassing as it is to admit, no I’m afraid I don’t,” he replies.

  “That’s something we have in common then,” I say, looking down at my own feet. “She died when I was very young. I never knew her.”

  Jameson sits next to me on the bed and the mattress sinks a little under his weight. I’m pulled towards him.

  “Well, she must have been very beautiful. I’d say you got mostly her genes. I don’t see a lot of me in you, so you must have got your beauty from your mother.”

  I blush, the heat in my cheeks feeling like fire.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  Jameson smiles at me and pulls me close for a hug.

  “Get some rest, Echo. Tomorrow I’ll organize access to the network so you can get an education. No child of mine will go without, and you’re quite a bit behind. No matter though,” he says and stands up from the bed, “I’m sure you’ll catch up quickly. You strike me as a sharp one and I’m willing to bet you’ve got incredible surprises for us in your future.”

  “Goodnight, Mister Fox,” I say, not used to getting so many compliments in one day.

  Jameson laughs good-naturedly at me.

  “You can call me dad. I am your father after all,” he says, and with that he turns and leaves my room, closing the door softly behind him.

  I lay down and stay awake on the comfortable bed for hours until fatigue wins out and I fall asleep.

  My dreams are disjointed. Memories of the boneyard and finding Kara are mixed with visions of Jameson and Reed sitting and laughing at me as I shrink into my chair at the huge dining table.

  The next morning when I wake, Rosalie tells me Jameson instructed her to bring me through to the pool.

  I’m not sure what that is, but when Rosalie shows me through the doors, I discover it’s an enormous room where the entire floor is made of water.