5. MADDY

5

MADDY

"Maddy! Have you seen the little rascal around?"

Callie's voice on the phone is, as always, cheerful. God, I love this girl.

"Little is with me," I report.

Sonny "Little" was how he introduced himself months ago, no last name. He often stops by my work here in the medical center. Everyone calls him Sonny. I prefer "Little."

I lean on the doorframe of the guest lounge and watch him lying on the couch, his feet dangling off the side arm as he watches videos on an iPad.

Archer did DNA testing and studied his biological markers, determining Little's age to be nine or ten. Little got an Ayana bracelet, and it's hooked up to Kai and Callie's phones so they can track him at any given moment. The kid is like a ping-pong ball, bouncing around Ayana every day.

"Yeah? What's he up to?" Callie asks. "I have an online class ready for him."

"I'll tell him."

"He tried to do karate. Now he is into yoga," she says. "Also, movies, music, cartoons, surfing, video games. He inspected every tattoo on Kai's body." She laughs happily. "Now he's into soccer and picture books. You name it, he tries it."

I smile. "He is into life."

"He is adjusting. He loves it. Except for eating an ungodly number of burgers."

"Burgers?"

"Yeah, that's his thing. I caught him stashing several in his room."

"Seriously?" But I can see how a kid who used to be homeless is afraid not to have enough food.

"I told him not to worry."

"I don't think he's worried about anything," I say. "It's a good thing. Some kids grow up neglected, some broken. He is the former, I hope."

Callie sighs into the phone. Some of us here in Ayana had perfect childhoods but were broken by the world war.

I motion for Little to move so I can scoot right next to him. I play with his long hair while chatting with Callie until she asks me to tell Little to get his butt to their house.

I'm glad that she takes Little's education seriously—or at least as seriously as it can be until we figure out how to integrate him properly into Ayana's life.

"Maddy, Maddy! Look!" Little plucks one earbud out of his ear and passes it to me. "Listen to this, Maddy!" I put it in my ear. "Listen-listen-listen!" He leans closer so that each of us have a bud and we can listen together.

Kai loaded his iPad with a bunch of music, and I know the song playing—"In The Air Tonight" by Phil Collins. I can tell it's Kai's playlist, and he's introducing the kid to rock music.

Little grins like he just discovered the most fascinating thing. "Listen, Maddy. 'S abou' to start."

His eyes glow like stars, and when the drums in the song kick in, his eyes widen, his little hands ball into fists, punching the air, and he bursts out in excited laughter as he starts kicking his feet in the air too. "Iz awesome! Innit?"

I can't help but laugh with him. The kid is contagious. His enthusiasm, laughter, curiosity, friendliness. He walks around Ayana all day long and talks to everyone. He lives with Kai and Callie, but it seems like he is everyone's kid.

There's just one problem. We don't know what to do with his education. Little can't read. And none of us are teachers or even experienced in dealing with children. So, we dug up a bunch of home-schooling courses. It's a start.

After the song, I send him home to Callie. "School time," I say.

"Yeah!" He is probably the only kid I know who is excited about learning.

And as soon as he leaves, Bo texts.

Bo: Busy?

I text back right away.

Me: Not for another forty minutes. Stop by!

Only two minutes later, he walks into the lounge, and I nod for him to follow me to one of the patient rooms. I don't necessarily want extra ears around when we talk.

"Lunch break?" I ask him.

When the world war started, Bo was a senior manager at Ayana. He was in his thirties, and he didn't like Archer's rules. So, he moved to the Eastside and soon became my closest friend.

Bo was a natural at organizing people and figuring out the logistics of any emergency situation. He was our leader. And when we reached an agreement with the Elites and returned to the Westside, he got his management position back.

Bo is in his element—creased pants, polo shirt. His dreads are neatly gathered at the back of his head. His skin is not cracked anymore, not covered with ocean salt, like a fine dusting of snow against his dark skin. I suppose we all cleaned up.

Bo rubs his face with both hands and exhales heavily as he takes a seat in one of the chairs in the patient room and slides halfway down.

"Long day?" I ask, hopping onto the exam table and dangling my feet.

"Yeah. You'd think things at Ayana should get easier. No, they only get worse."

"Why? What's up?"

He starts cracking his fingers. "The work personnel from Port Mrei. Their badges get glitches. More and more people try to get in daily under others' badges. Shift slots don't match up. There are fewer workers. Theft. Fights. On and on and on. This place is struggling, Maddy."

I shrug. "It is what it is, right?"

"Well, I suppose it's safer than the Eastside."

He means the hurricane seasons we barely survived camping on the other side of the island for two years. He means suicide. He means Olivia. He means Callie and Dani's kidnapping and attacks from the savages from the Ashlands.

Bo meets my eyes and gives me a long look that I know too well.

I frown. "What now?"

He is silent even when I cock my brows.

Finally, I lose patience. "Okay, spill, man. What's up?"

Bo's chuckle is low and guttural. "What's with that gentleman?"

"What gentleman?"

"Raven," he says, which makes me stiffen.

"What about him?"

"Look at you, didn't even flinch." A smile plays on his lips. "Not surprised at my question?"

No.

Bo licks his lips and smacks them loudly. "You know, part of my job is to know everyone at Ayana. Where they live. What they do. What their needs are. Their paychecks. Besides the top echelon, of course. But I pay special attention to those. And him , yes. He is almost like a ghost. I hardly ever hear about him or see him."

Bo goes quiet.

I keep the straight face. "Your point is?"

"When I see him, I pay attention. He is an interesting case."

"Is he?" I ask indifferently.

"Mathew Levi is a very powerful figure on this island. He is dangerous, Maddy. He is a dealer of all trades. But what he is best with is information. I've seen him around you and in your vicinity."

I chuckle but don't say anything. Bo has a lot on his plate. He doesn't need my problems.

"Mathew Levi lives like he is incognito. He barely communicates with anyone besides the upper echelon and security personnel. I know he reads, and that habit in a former street-runner is something to be wary of. In my book, that's admirable. But you know people talk. IT guys, maintenance supervisors, the management team under me—they all gossip. They can't help it, not in this sardine can that Ayana has been for two years."

I cock my head, listening and pretending I'm amused.

"When I saw him at Archer's birthday party, I paid special attention. He rarely goes to parties, as per others. And I watched him watch you at that party."

"Uh-huh." I nod, curling my lips inward to keep my smile from spreading.

"And at Bangkok restaurant last week," Bo adds.

"Oh yeah?"

"I heard the security guys talking about him. They gossip about everyone, ship their bosses with girls, that sort of stuff. They talked about some girl named Siena he is involved with."

I stiffen at the words.

Bo watches me more intensely, studies my reaction. "And then they talked about the fact that he requested your info multiple times lately. They joked about it, said His Gray Eminence is picking his bride. Literally, their words."

I nod, peeling my eyes off Bo's, because his are prying. "It's nothing."

The silence lasts for way too long. When I finally look up, Bo has his head propped with his fist, his eyes boring into me.

"The way he was looking at you at Archer's birthday, then at Bangkok… I know that look."

"What look is that?"

"The way that should be none of his business if he weren't involved with you. Is he?"

"It's not what you think."

A little snort escapes Bo.

I roll my eyes at him. "Stop, Bo. It's nothing."

Bo doesn't reply, only crosses his leg over the other and continues staring at me.

I shake my head, annoyed.

"You've never been a good liar, Maddy. Except for one thing."

Oh, I know where this is going, that "one thing."

When we lived on the Eastside, Bo and I had to navigate through a lot of shit to keep the Outcasts safe and sane. We went through many dramas. Traumas, too. When Archer sent guards to deliver the records of the deceased from the mainland—a shitty move, for sure—many Outcasts opened up, talked about their families, grieved.

One night, I had too much to drink. I was missing Dad. And I was so tired of holding my secret and was wondering if I would go insane. So, I told Bo my story.

He was the only one who knew back then. He never brought it up again, never spoke of it. Bo is that kind of guy.

But now when I meet his eyes, I know what's coming.

Bo is not smiling anymore when he says, "Does that guy know who you are?"