"Is it true?" he demands. Voice loud. Rough. "You have clean water? Hidden?"
Del stands slowly. Back against the wall. Can't run. Nowhere to go.
His heart pounds. Can feel it in his throat. In his ears. In his damaged knee.
Opens his mouth to speak.
Vence punches him.
Fast. No warning. Fist to Del's stomach. Hard. All his weight behind it.
Del doubles over. The air rushes out. Can't breathe. Gasping. His vision goes gray at the edges.
Vence grabs his hair. Fingers dig into his scalp. Nails scraping. Yanks his head up.
Del's neck cracks. Audible pop.
"I didn't ask you to talk yet," Vence says.
Del tries to breathe. Can't. His diaphragm is spasming. Won't work.
Vence hits him again. Same spot. Ribs.
Something breaks. Clean snap. Pain explodes.
Del goes down. Knees hitting stone. The cut on his knee reopens. Not just reopens—tears. The whole scab rips away. Blood pours out. Hot. Sticky.
He can feel it soaking through his pants. Running down his shin. Into his boot.
The crowd surges closer. Excited. Someone laughs. High-pitched. Nervous.
"You've been hoarding," Vence says. Still calm. Conversational. Like discussing weather. "While people die of thirst. While we drink poison. You've had clean water. Hidden."
Del coughs. Tastes copper. Blood. Bit his tongue when he went down. Or his cheek. Can't tell.
"How much?" Vence asks.
Del's mind races.
*Deflect. Blame someone else. Buy time.*
He looks up at Vence. Blood dripping from his mouth. Mixing with the rainwater on the stone. Pink puddle spreading.
"Ask him," Del says. Nodding toward Garrett.
Vence's eyebrows rise. "What?"
"He's the one who followed me. He's the one who knows where everything is. Ask him how much I have."
Vence turns. Looks at Garrett.
Garrett's smile falters. Just slightly. His fingers stop drumming. "I told you. He has water. Containers. Hidden."
"How many?" Vence asks.
"I don't know exactly—"
"How many?" Louder.
Garrett's jaw tightens. "Multiple. I saw him with at least four or five. Could be more."
"Could be." Vence's voice is flat. "You don't know."
"I didn't count them! I just saw—"
"Where are they?" Vence asks Del.
Del spits blood. "He knows. He followed me there. Watched me hide them. He knows exactly where."
Garrett's face is red now. "I know the area! The old collapsed section! But I didn't go all the way—"
"So you don't know where," Vence says.
"I know he has water!"
"But you don't know where it is. Or how much."
Garrett's hands clench. Knuckles white. "He's trying to—"
"Shut up." Vence looks at Del. "You. Where is it?"
This is it. The gamble.
"There's nothing," Del says. "He's lying. Trying to get you to do his work for him."
The crowd erupts. Shouting. Angry.
Vence's expression goes cold.
He kicks Del. Ribs. Where he punched. Where something already broke.
The broken rib shifts. Grates. Del curls up. Can't help it. The pain is white-hot. Blinding.
"Don't lie to me," Vence says.
Del coughs. Wet. Blood spatters the stone. "I'm not. I don't have—"
Vence grabs him. Hauls him up by his hair. Del's feet barely touch the ground.
"Strip his sleeping area," Vence says to the crowd. "Everything. Find it."
Four workers break off. Head toward Del's corner.
Del's chest tightens.
*The two containers. The bait.*
He watches them go. Can't stop them. Vence is holding him. Suspended. Hair tearing at the roots.
The workers reach his corner. Start pulling rubble aside. Throwing stones. Creating noise. Echoing in the junction.
Another worker joins. Then another.
They're methodical. Systematic. Tearing it apart piece by piece.
Takes maybe three minutes.
A shout: "FOUND SOMETHING!"
The worker holds up a sealed container. Old-world design. Metal and ceramic composite. Heavy. Water sloshes inside. Audible.
The crowd erupts. Shouting. Pressing forward. Hands reaching.
Another worker finds the second container. Holds it up.
Both brought to Vence.
He drops Del. Del collapses. Gasping.
Vence takes one container. Examines it. His fingers trace the seal. The symbols embossed on the side.
Opens it. Slow. Careful.
The seal breaks with a hiss. Pressure release.
He sniffs. Leans close. His nose almost touching the water.
Then dips his finger. Brings it to his mouth.
Tastes.
His eyes close. Just for a second.
Opens them.
Clean water. Real.
The crowd sees his reaction. Knows.
The noise increases. Angry. Desperate. Demanding.
Vence looks at Del. His face is different now. Not angry. Worse.
Disappointed.
Like Del is a child who lied about something obvious.
"You said you didn't have water," Vence says quietly.
Del's on the ground. Bleeding. Broken rib making it hard to breathe.
Tries to speak. Vence kicks him before sound comes out.
Stomach. Hard.
Del's breath explodes. Can't get it back. Gasping. Vision going dark.
"Two containers," Vence says. "Garrett said multiple. Where are the rest?"
Del can't speak. Can't breathe.
Vence crouches. Grabs Del's face. Squeezes. His fingers dig into Del's cheeks. Into his jaw. The old bruise from three days ago erupts under the pressure.
"Where?"
Del's mouth is forced open. Blood and spit drooling out.
"HE'S LYING!" Garrett's voice. High. Frantic. "I TOLD YOU! I SAW MORE! HE'S LYING TO YOU!"
Vence releases Del's face. Stands. Looks at Garrett.
"How many did you see?"
"FOUR OR FIVE! AT LEAST! MAYBE MORE!"
Vence looks at the two containers. Then at Del.
"So there's more."
Del nods. Barely. Just: trying to breathe.
"Where?"
"Sealed chambers," Del gasps. "Old section."
"How many?"
Del's mind races.
*The truth: eight more. Total of ten.*
*But if I say ten, they'll know later when I dilute.*
*Need to lowball. Say less. Make them think there's not much.*
"Three," Del says. "Maybe four. Couldn't reach them all. Too dangerous. These two were easiest. Rest are buried deeper."
Silence.
Then Garrett explodes.
"HE'S LYING!"
Screaming now. Actually screaming. Voice cracking.
"I SAW MORE THAN THAT! I SAW AT LEAST FOUR CONTAINERS WITH HIM! PLUS THESE TWO MAKES SIX! THERE'S MORE! HE'S LYING! HE'S FUCKING LYING TO YOUR FACES!"
His face is red. Spit flying from his mouth. Hands gesturing wildly.
"I TOLD YOU WHERE THEY WERE! I LED YOU TO HIM! AND HE'S STANDING THERE—" Garrett's voice breaks. "—MAKING YOU LOOK LIKE FOOLS! MAKING YOU DOUBT ME!"
Vence's jaw tightens.
Then kicks him. Knee. The injured one. Right on the torn scab.
Del's vision goes white. Pain shooting up his leg. Into his hip. His spine. He screams. Can't help it. Just: screams.
Vence kicks him again. Same spot.
The scab tears completely off. Not just the surface. Deep. Into muscle. Tissue.
Blood pours. Soaking his pants. Pooling on the stone. Dark red. Almost black.
Del's hands claw at the ground. Trying to pull away. Can't. Vence follows. Kicks again.
"YOU MADE ME LOOK STUPID!"
Vence roars it. Not calm anymore. ANGRY.
"IN FRONT OF EVERYONE! YOU STOOD THERE! LOOKED ME IN THE EYE! AND LIED!"
Kicks again. Ribs. The broken one.
It shifts. Grates against the others. Something tears inside. Deep. Wet sound.
Del tastes blood. Different taste. Copper and iron and something else. Internal bleeding probably.
"I BELIEVED YOU!"
Vence is still shouting. Face dark. Veins standing out on his neck.
"I ACTUALLY THOUGHT—"
Kicks.
"—MAYBE HE'S TELLING THE TRUTH—"
Kicks.
"—MAYBE GARRETT'S WRONG—"
Del curls up. Protecting his head. His core. Can't protect everything. Just: tries.
Garrett is screaming too. Both of them now.
"I TOLD YOU! I TRIED TO WARN YOU! AND HE MADE YOU DOUBT ME! MADE YOU THINK I WAS THE LIAR!"
Garrett's voice is hoarse. Raw. He's been shouting for minutes now.
Someone in the crowd grabs his arm. Tries to pull him back. Garrett shakes them off.
"I WAS RIGHT! I WAS FUCKING RIGHT! AND YOU BELIEVED HIM OVER ME!"
Vence stops kicking. Breathing hard. Staring down at Del.
Del is on the ground. Not moving. Just: breathing. Shallow. Wet. Each breath is agony.
Blood everywhere. From his mouth. His nose. His knee. Pooling on the stone. Spreading.
"How many?" Vence asks. Voice quiet again. Deadly quiet.
Del coughs. Blood comes up. Lots of it. Sprays on the stone.
"Eight," he gasps. "Total. These two plus six more. That's all there is. I swear it."
"You SWORE before too."
"This time—" Cough. More blood. "—true. Eight total. I miscounted before. Thought there were less. Didn't check carefully. But eight. That's all. I swear."
Vence crouches. Grabs Del's hair again. Pulls his head up.
Del's face is destroyed. Nose broken. Bleeding. Left eye swollen completely shut. Right eye barely open. Slit. Blood caked everywhere.
"If you're lying again," Vence says slowly, "I won't kill you."
He pauses. Lets that sink in.
"I'll break every bone in your hands. One at a time. Fingers first. Then knuckles. Then wrists. Make sure you never hold anything again. Never work. Never feed yourself. You'll starve slow. Begging someone to help you eat. Understand?"
Del nods. Barely. His neck doesn't want to move right. Something wrong with it.
Vence releases him. Stands.
Looks at the crowd. Points. "You. Tam. Get over here."
Tam—the young worker, maybe nineteen, thin, always coughing—steps forward. His face is pale. Terrified.
"You go with him," Vence says. "Down to the chambers. You bring back everything. All six containers. However many trips it takes. I don't care. But you bring back six. Not five. Not four. SIX. Understand?"
Tam's eyes are wide. "What if there aren't six—"
"Then you don't come back."
Tam swallows. His throat clicks. Audible in the quiet. He nods.
"And you," Vence says to Del. "Get up."
Del tries. Can't. His knee won't hold any weight at all now. His ribs won't let him breathe properly. Everything is broken or bleeding or both.
Vence grabs him. Hauls him up. Del's feet barely work. He's leaning completely on Vence.
"Move," Vence says. Shoves him toward the collapsed section entrance.
Del stumbles. Falls. His knee hits stone. Fresh pain. Fresh blood.
Gets up. Falls again.
Tam comes over. Helps him. The young man is shaking but he's stronger than he looks. Gets Del standing. Mostly.
They move toward the entrance.
The crowd watches. Silent now. Some satisfied. Some hungry. Some just: watching.
Garrett is still standing there. Breathing hard. His hands opening and closing. Face red. He watches Del go.
His lips move. No sound. But Del can read them.
Liar.