Read Online The Flux Engine by Dan Willis - Free Book Online Page A

chickens on parade.
    “Step where I step,” she said.
    “I am.”
    At least the sheriff and his men seemed to be out on other business.
    As Robi reached the door, she dropped onto her belly, and peered beneath the door. The outer office was empty.
    “Where is everyone?” John asked.
    Robi shrugged as she picked open the lock on the cell block door.
    “Out on patrol,” she said. “Who cares? We’re free.”
    She eased the door open and John followed her out into the empty front room. A shadow moved across the wall as someone walked by outside and John held his breath until they were out of sight.
    “Relax,” Robi said, locking the cell block door behind him.
    “How do we get out?” John said, his voice cracking. “The only door leads right out into the street.”
    Robi rolled her eyes. It was good to feel like she was in charge again. She took John’s face in her hands and looked him right in the eye.
    “Nobody out there knows we’ve escaped, John,” she said. “Once we walk out that door, we’re just two people going about their business among thousands. If we look like we belong, no one will notice us, and, more importantly, no one will remember us.”
    “I’m wearing a shirt that’s too big for me and you don’t have any shoes,” John pointed out. She shrugged.
    “They’re still stuck to Pemberton’s rug. Don’t worry, you’d be surprised how nobody actually notices your feet.”
    She moved silently to the door and looked out. It was about mid-day and dozens of people of all descriptions were hurrying about their business.
    “Okay,” she said, turning back to John. “Just follow my lead and everything will be fine. Just breathe deep, take my arm, and we’ll walk out nice and easy.”
    John nodded, but his skin had gone pasty. He took a deep breath and seemed to calm down a bit. He took Robi’s arm and escorted her through the door. She sensed him start to panic as he realized he didn’t know which way to turn. Robi tugged his arm to the left and he turned, following her lead. Walking steadily, they moved away from the jail, turning at the nearest cross street.
    John’s arm trembled under her fingers. He was shaking. She remembered the feeling, the first time she’d hid in a bush while armed men searched for her mere feet away. She’d been sure there was a glowstone placard over her head proclaiming her hiding place.
    “Calm down,” she said in her most soothing voice.
    John took a deep breath and his arm stopped shaking.
    “Where are we going?” he asked after a moment.
    “Wardrobe.”
    “What?” John asked. Robi sighed.
    “You really have led a sheltered life, haven’t you? Wardrobe is a theater term, it’s where the costumes are stored.”
    John shot her a confused look but didn’t question her further. Robi felt a little twinge of guilt for lording her skill over him, but then he had blackmailed her into helping him. She deserved a little payback.
    After a few minutes, Robi led them away from the saloons and shops that occupied the center of Sprocketville. Gradually the streets became narrower and dirtier. They passed dozens of people going about their business. Each time John’s arm tensed up, but she just led him on as if nothing was wrong. A team of laborers from the pipeworks was repairing a steam line outside a smithy and the air was heavy with mist that swirled into little eddies as they passed.
    Eventually, Robi turned along an unpaved alley that separated a line of ramshackle row houses from warehouse lane on the edge of town. Between the alley and the backs of the houses were small yards, no more than fifteen foot square. Like the dirty, unrepaired houses, the yards were magnets for clutter, broken things, and trash. A few appeared in good repair, as if their owners actually cared, but most were overgrown and shoddy.
    Perfect.
    The great thing about overgrown frontier towns like Sprocketville was that with this many people all crammed in together, someone was