Elise screamed, and at first Jimmy thought he’d stepped on her. But there at his feet was a large brown rat with a fearsome tail, crying and turning circles.
Jimmy’s heart stopped. Elise screamed and screamed, but then he realized it was his voice he was hearing. Elise’s arms were latched around his leg, making it difficult to turn and flee. And meanwhile, Courtnee bent over with laughter. Jimmy nearly fainted as Courtnee scooped the giant rat off the ground. When the thing licked at her chin, he realized it wasn’t a rat at all but a dog. A juvenile. He’d seen grown dogs in the mids of his silo when he was a boy, but had never seen a pup. Elise loosened her grip when she saw that the animal meant no harm.
“It’s a cat!” Elise cried.
“That’s no cat,” Jimmy said. He knew cats.
Courtnee was still laughing at him when a young man careened around the corner, panting, summoned no doubt by Jimmy’s startled screeches.
“There you are,” he said, taking the animal from Courtnee. The pup clawed at the man’s shoulder and tried to bite his earlobe. “Damn thing.” The mechanic swatted the pup’s face away. He gripped it by the scruff of its neck, its legs pawing at the air.
“Is that more of them?” Courtnee asked.
“Same litter,” the man said.
“Conner was to put them down weeks ago.”
The man shrugged. “Conner’s been digging that damn tunnel. But I’ll get on him about it.” He nodded to Courtnee and marched back the way he’d come, the animal dangling from its scruff.
“Gave you a fright,” Courtnee said, smiling at Jimmy.
“Thought he was a rat,” Jimmy said, remembering the hordes of them that’d taken over the lower farms.
“We got overrun with dogs when some people from Supply hunkered down here,” Courtnee said. She led them down the hall in the direction the man had gone. Elise, for once, was scampering out in front. “They’ve been busy ever since making more dogs. Found a litter of them myself in the pump room, beneath the heat exchangers. A few weeks ago, another was discovered in the tool lock-up. We’ll be finding them in our beds soon enough, damn things. All they do is eat and make mess all over the place.”
Jimmy thought of his youth in the server room, eating raw beans out of a can and shitting on the floor grates. You couldn’t hate a living thing for … living, could you?
The hall ahead came to a dead end. Elise was already exploring to the left as if she were looking for something.
“Walker’s workshop is this way,” Courtnee said.
Elise glanced back. There was a yip from somewhere, and she turned and carried on.
“Elise,” Jimmy called.
She peeked into an open door before disappearing inside. Courtnee and Jimmy hurried after.
When they turned the corner, they found her standing over a parts crate, the man from the hallway placing something back inside. Elise gripped the edge of the crate and bent forward. Yipping and scratching leaked out of the plastic bin.
“Careful, child.” Courtnee hurried her way. “They bite.”
Elise turned to Jimmy. One of the squirming animals was in her arms, a pink tongue flashing out.
“Put it back,” Jimmy said.
Courtnee reached for the animal, but the man corralling the pups already had it by its neck. He dropped the puppy back in with the others and kicked the lid shut with a bang.
“I’m sorry, boss.” He slid the crate aside with his foot while Elise made plaintive noises.
“Are you feeding them?” Courtnee asked. She pointed to a pile of scraps on an old plate.
“Conner is. Swear. They’re from that dog he took in. You know how he is about the thing. I told him what you said, but he’s been putting it off.”
“We’ll discuss it later,” Courtnee said, her eyes darting at young Elise. Jimmy could tell she didn’t want to discuss what needed doing in front of the child. “C’mon.” She guided Jimmy to the door and back into the hall. He in turn pulled a complaining child after him.
23
A familiar and unpleasant odor awaited them at their destination. It was the smell of hot electrics like the humming servers and the stench of unwashed men. For Jimmy, it was a noseful of his old self and his old home. An earful of it too. There was a hiss of static – a familiar, ghostly whisper like his radios made. He followed Courtnee into a room of workbenches and the wreck of countless projects underway or abandoned, it was difficult to tell which.
There was a scattering of computer parts on a counter by the door, and Jimmy thought how his father would have lectured to see them so poorly arranged. A man in a leather smock turned from one of the far benches, a smoking metal wand in his hand, tools studding his chest and poking out of a hundred pockets, a grizzled beard and a wild look in his eyes. Jimmy had never seen such a man in all his life.
“Courtnee,” the man said. He pulled a bright length of silver wire from his lips, set the wand down, and waved the smoke from his face. “Is it dinner?”