Warden: A Novel by Gregg Vann

Tana.
    “He was Sri’s dealer. I had to come here a few times to get drugs for her when she was sick and refused to get help.” Tana glared down at Yali with unmasked hate in her eyes and he tried to slide further away from her. “And a few other times when he poisoned her with bad junk. Those times, I kicked his ass.”
    “I only wanted to help Sri out,” Yali protested.
    Tana scowled at him and he threw both hands up defensively. “Please…don’t hit me anymore. Just tell me what Sri needs. I’ll even give it to you for free if you’ll just take it and leave.”
    “Sri doesn’t need anything, Yali. She’s dead.”
    The man’s eyes went wide with fear. “It wasn’t me, Tana. I didn’t give her anyth—”
    “Relax, Yali. If I thought you were responsible you’d already be dead. Like I said, we just need a place to hide.”
    “Do you really think you can trust him to keep his mouth shut?” Barent asked.
    “Not at all. In fact, if he thought he could get a halfway decent meal for selling us out, he would. Which is exactly why he won’t leave this shack until we do.”
    “Agreed.”
    “Who the hell is that?” Yali asked.
    “His name is mister none of your fucking business ,” Tana replied. Then she gave him a look that implied any other questions would be answered with her foot.
    Yali struggled to stand back up and then rubbed his chest. “Whatever. Just make yourselves at home…apparently.”
    “Keep an eye on him for a little while,” Barent said. “I want to go have a look around.”
    “Are you sure that’s wise?” Tana asked.
    “I’ll be fine.”
    Tana walked over to a small bed sitting in the corner and snatched the sheet off of it. Then she wadded it up into a ball and threw it to Barent. “Here, wrap that around you. You stick out like a sore thumb around here. And try to stoop down a little bit, too.”
    Barent shook the sheet out vigorously before spreading it across his shoulders. “God knows what’s still clinging to this thing.”
    “Hey!” Yali shouted.
    “Shut up,” Tana said, then she turned back to Barent. “Don’t get lost Ba—uh, baby.”
    Barent chuckled inwardly at the way she’d caught herself—refraining from saying his name in front of Yali to keep Barent’s identity a secret.
    “I won’t, dear ,” he replied.
    Barent left the shack and began retracing his steps, making his way back to what served as the main thoroughfare for the Outland. He stooped and slouched as Tana had recommended, and the effort not only made him appear smaller, but feeble as well. But when Barent looked around he realized he was the only one faking it. There were thousands of frail and sickly people milling about this part of the city—most of them buried under dirty and mismatched shreds of clothing, and all of them just trying to stay warm…and alive.
    There were very few proper buildings in the Outland, and Barent couldn’t believe the contrast between the gleaming skyscrapers at the center of the city, and the poorly constructed shacks he found here. Most of them were unfit for animals, much less human beings. But even more troubling was the disparity in the lives of the people—the overabundance of wealth in the interior, compared to the hardscrabble fight for existence he was witnessing now. Barent felt his anger rising again. The area where Tana lived was bad enough, but this…
    Everyone in Le’sant appeared thin to Barent, yet they still seemed healthy. But that wasn’t the case with the downtrodden. Their cheeks were sunken and their eyes hollow—physical manifestations reflecting the emptiness of their lives. And Barent could see the underlying bones in every piece of exposed flesh. Though most of the downtrodden wore gloves, he noticed that many of the fingers were empty—tied back out of the way so they didn’t flap around as the people went on with their daily lives. Barent suspected the missing digits had probably been lost to frostbite.
    And then there