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Ezekiel Wilkes climbed out from the interior of the lean-to.

He struggled over a stack of crates and stepped into the open with a wrench in his hand. There was a gas mask covering most of his face, just like everybody else, but Rector would’ve known him anywhere. Still skinnier than he ought to be, and still wearing a shock of ratty brown hair that would never lie down, Zeke might’ve been a smidge taller than the last time Rector had seen him, but maybe not. His eyes were the same, crinkled around the corners from too much defensive laughter. The Outskirts hadn’t been kind to this kid, the son of the man who’d destroyed the city. Rector hoped the Underground liked him better.

Zeke’s eyes lit up at the sight of a familiar face. “Rector! Hot damn, I never thought I’d see you inside here. ”

He scrambled the rest of the way out of the lean-to, a structure which was deeper and more cluttered than it appeared at first glance. Zeke jabbed the wrench into his belt and hesitated. Finally he thrust out a hand and seized Rector’s, pumping it up and down like he’d found a long-lost brother.

Much to Rector’s surprise, his supernatural unease about this meeting evaporated, only to be replaced with something equally bad: a deep-seated sense of embarrassment that he would’ve been hard-pressed to explain. He didn’t deserve this welcome, not from a kid he’d sent off to die. Not from a kid he’d never treated well, even if others had treated him worse. Not from a kid he’d never even liked that much, and had mostly tolerated out of a dull sense of pity.

“Zeke,” he responded awkwardly, trying to infuse the greeting with a fraction of the other boy’s enthusiasm. “It’s been a while. Between you and me, I can’t believe you’re still alive. ” It was all he could think of to say, and he had no intention of ever telling Zeke how profoundly true it was. As it was, the words stumbled over one another, and came out with a stutter.

Zeke didn’t notice Rector’s discomfort. He laughed. “You and me both. So I guess Houjin’s been showing you the ropes, huh? He knows this place better than I do. Probably better than anybody. ”

“Yeah, he’s showed me … uh … everything between here and the Vaults. ”

“Did he get you something to eat?”

“Yep. Met that Angeline woman, too. ”

“The princess? She’s a real character, ain’t she?” Then someone called out Zeke’s name and he responded. “Yes, Captain?”

From further back through the blurry banks of clotted air, someone hollered. “You got that wrench for me yet, or do I have to come get it myself?”

“No sir, I’ve got it. I’m coming. ” To Rector, he said, “You can meet Captain Cly, and Fang, and Troost—”

“Already met that one. ”

“Then you can meet the other two. Huey, thanks for bringing him up! I’m real glad to see him. ”

Houjin said, “I thought you might be!” brightly, though he was looking off behind Zeke’s shoulder. “How’s it holding up?”

Zeke followed his gaze, and understood. “So far, so good. ” Then he explained, “The Chinatown entrance is a little weak right now. The day before yesterday, we had a cave-

in. It didn’t do much damage, except that it let in some Blight. I don’t think anybody got sick from it, though. Anyways, come on, Rector. Huey, you coming, too?”

“Might as well!”

Together the three of them—led by Houjin, who was fastest on his feet—went plowing through the thick air, back toward the docked dirigibles and behind them. There, hidden by the ships and the miasma of Blight, Rector spied Kirby Troost with another man. This other man was lying on his back on top of a wooden bench, reaching under one of the dirigible’s back engines.

“Is this the one you wanted?” Zeke asked as he handed over the wrench.

The prone man reached up with one astoundingly long arm and accepted the wrench. He didn’t look at it, but he grasped it with his hand and felt its contours. “This is it, thanks. ”

“Fourth try’s what did it,” Troost said under his breath.

Zeke overheard, and objected. “It’s not like they’re marked or anything. ”

From under the dirigible the big man said, “Let him alone, Troost. ”

“Captain Cly, if you’ve got a minute, you should come out and meet my friend Rector. I knew him in the Outskirts, and he’s all right. ”

The captain slid down off the brace, which turned out to be the back half of a church pew.

And to think, in Zeke’s hand that wrench had looked big.

Even seated on the ground, Captain Cly was nearly as tall as those who surrounded him. He was long-waisted and nearly bald, with buzzed-short hair that was a darkish shade of blond. He didn’t require any further description. Rector would never have mistaken a man that size for anybody else. No wonder he’d been Houjin and Angeline’s first point of reference when Rector had told them about the monster at the chuckhole—but no. Not a chance it was him.

“So you’re Rector, huh?” the captain asked, looking him up and down the same as Troost had, minutes before. “Quite a head of hair you’ve got. ”

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