Luna on the Run (The Carmsborough Vigilantes #1)

Chapter 6

Following an uneventful evening, I fall asleep with no hesitation. Staying asleep, however, proves difficult. I'm repeatedly woken by random noises, the foot of another person kicking me, or the newly repeating memory-dream of the day I met Freckles, as if my brain is trying to make me feel guilty for losing my best friend.

And, of course, it's working. I wake at nearly six in the morning, upset and a wreck from the memory that once again haunted me. A single tear rolls down my cheek, the last remnant of a long night of restlessness. It's only the beginning of day two, but the pain of his absence is becoming unbearable.

Things are about to kick into action shortly, so I sit up, preventing myself from having the chance to fall back asleep or wallow any longer. I glance around the room, searching for my elderly companion, and spot her rubbing the crust from her sleepy eyes. When she notices me staring, she gives a little wave.

We both quietly sneak out of the room, careful to avoid the sleeping lumps strewn across the floor. A few others stir awake, but for the most part, everyone's looking to get their last few minutes of beauty rest.

"I'm not gonna lie, Mary, I'm feeling awful hungry already."

"One of the greatest troubles on the island," she replies. "Breakfast will end by the time we make it to the mess hall, though. They close shop at exactly six to prepare for lunch, and we have to get right to business when the bell sounds off."

"I wouldn't say 'no breakfast' is the greatest trouble here. I'd probably say the whole 'slave labor' thing is."

"Ah, well, I said 'one of,' did I not?"

"Alright, but there's a sizeable gap between the two concepts."

"Are we going to argue semantics all morning?"

"If I can get away with it, sure."

We switch into fresh pairs of our respective clothing types, and not a moment later, the six o'clock bell rings, signaling that work time has begun. Like yesterday, I follow Mary to the shipyard, where she heads directly to the little shed for her equipment.

"I recommend busying yourself a little more today than you did yesterday, Luna," she says, wringing a sponge out into her bent-up metal bucket. "There are many things to get accustomed to here, especially for an Overseer like yourself."

"Yeah, I guess I better. Any idea where to start?"

"If it would make you feel more comfortable, the men here at the shipyard are more easygoing than the rest of the island."

Taking her word, I begin my patrol of the dockyard. The large ships, which are still magnificent, sit idly by as people clean them, load things onto them, and congregate on their decks, planning their days.

I'm almost thankful I have this job. No worrying over black lung, or breaking my spine lifting things onto an airship, or standing in one spot, doing the same thing for ten hours a day.

"Well, if it ain't the pipsqueak from yesterday," I hear off to my side. I turn to see the larger-built Overseer walking my way, a humored face masking his tough-guy persona. "I didn't think you'd survive the night surrounded by all of those ruffians."

"I'd say. It was tough getting to sleep. And staying asleep."

"It's tough every night. You'll get used to it."

"Thanks for the glimmer of hope."

"Yeah, no problem. Tell you what, I don't know what you've done, but the other two aren't that fond of ya. Lana's a bit tweaked this morning, and Renet seems to be stewing, too. The name's Arnold. I'm about the last person you haven't pissed off, from the sounds of it."