Free Repossession (The Keepers Trilogy) by Rachael Wade

shirt. He flinched. “And you need to admit when you need help.”
    Pushing himself up, he rolled off me and sat back on his heels, wincing and gripping his side, his lips pulling back and teeth visibly grinding with the motion. I sat up and scooted forward, mindful of the gaping railcar door. I reached up and slid it shut, slamming it with a loud grunt until I felt it lock into place. The loud rumble of the wheels hitting the track was muted now, but the rattling hum still thumped away from outside, filling the dimly lit car with a shaky buzz.
    “I’m fine,” he said.
    “Fine. Play it your way. I’m going to see if I can find you some medicine.”
    I helped push him backward to prop him against the wall, peeling his backpack from his shoulders first. “Try and rest, I’ll see what I can find out.”
    “I’m not letting you wander around these cars alone. Not fuckin’ happening.”
    “If you don’t rest and get medicine for that wound soon, I’ll be stuck wandering everywhere alone. That ointment won’t cut it. You’re going to need antibiotics. It’s starting to get infected.”
    His gaze snapped up to mine and held my stare. “Finger on the trigger.”
    “Fire on your mark.” I smirked.
    “I mean it, Skylla. No fuckin’ around. If someone so much as looks at you the wrong way, you get the hell out of there and get back here right away, got it?”
    I wasn’t about to deliver anymore snarky comments to the man. The fact that he was actually cooperating with my suggestion that he stay put was a feat in itself, and I wasn’t about to lose the ground I was gaining with him. “Got it,” I said, giving him a lazy salute. I handed him the water canteen from the backpack and adjusted my gun.
    I didn’t need to travel far to find anyone. Just as I’d moved to search for a way into the next car, four men appeared to block my path, weapons in each hand, all of them aimed directly at us.
    “Hitchin’ a ride, are ya?” one of them asked, sneering over my shoulder at Jet, who was now standing to join me.
    Jet raised his gun at my side. “No need for that,” he gestured to the colorful array of weapons in the men’s hands. One held an axe, another a meat cleaver of some sort, while the other two were armed with shotguns and rifles.
    “We might need some convincing,” the man shot back, his black, beady eyes igniting into hot pools of fire at the sound of Jet’s assertive tone. “Who told you about us? Let us see your hips. Now.”
    I glanced at Jet.
    “I said, now!”
    Jet slid me a look and nodded, using his free hand to lift the hem of his shirt to reveal the bloody bandage where his chip used to be. I did the same, showing the men my untainted skin.
    “Changed your mind, did you, traitor?”
    I bristled at the man’s words. “He’s not traceable anymore. Isn’t that good enough for you?”
    “You wanna get fresh with us, sweetie? I dare you to come over here and say that again.”
    “Skylla,” Jet murmured, “don’t.”
    “We’re here to trade, and to catch a ride west.”
    “Skylla,” he insisted, his voice more persistent.
    “We have what you’re looking for,” I said, “so drop the traitor shit or we’ll jump right back out that door and you’ll be worse off because of it.”
    “I doubt that, honey. Go ahead, try and jump. You’ll be dead before you’re airborne.” The man raised his gun higher and leveled it with my forehead. Tension crackled around us, the air stuffy and suffocating. I swallowed and did something Jet was vehemently against.
    I took my finger off the trigger.
    Raising my hands in open surrender, I glanced at Jet, begging him to do the same, but he wasn’t onboard. “We were sent here with a map,” he said. “From a Black Hole near precinct 74. We have information and some goods to trade, in exchange for antibiotics and a ride. We don’t want any trouble, so take it or leave it.”
    “What kind of map is it?”
    “I traded for it, fair and square.