The Tenth Tier: A Novella

By Ria Hill

In a society where death is orchestrated by the government, the Tiered system keeps people honest. It keeps people from running. It keeps people scared. Lawrence Nero will never forget the day six years ago when the mysterious Captain Black appeared at his home to “retrieve” him. Lawrence didn’t go. Now his little sister, Amy, is volunteering to die for the same government agency that has been after him since he ran. The same organization that wants him dead at Tier Ten—a Tier no one understands and everyone fears. David Frome, Amy’s neighbor, is a Bureau employee who believes in his work. He's also desperate to win Amy’s heart—until the Bureau assigns him to be her retrieving Agent. Dezzie Newton is a student in the aftermath of a personal tragedy that completely upended the future she imagined for herself. Now, her life is careening inexorably toward a government career that offers security found nowhere else. As Amy’s termination nears, each one searches for answers. Where will their loyalties lie? How much is one life worth? And what is the Tenth Tier?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ria Hill
• Release date: Jul 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9780998714417

Book preview

The Tenth Tier

A Novella

by Ria Hill

The Tenth Tier: A Novella

Copyright © 2021 [Ria Shevchuk-Hill / Ria Hill]

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-9987144-1-7

Contents

DEZZIE

LAWRENCE

AMY

DAVID

DEZZIE

LAWRENCE

AMY

DAVID

DEZZIE

LAWRENCE

AMY

DAVID

DEZZIE

LAWRENCE

AMY

DAVID

DEZZIE

LAWRENCE

AMY

DAVID

DEZZIE

LAWRENCE

AMY

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

DEZZIE

Junior year at university had been long and difficult, and Dezzie was about to hit submit on her final paper of the semester when she heard a voice behind her. You there, lady?

Her head snapped around. She saw her partner, Teddy, standing in the doorway of her apartment with a paper bag dangling from his fist and a bottle of wine pressed to his chest. He smiled at her as he worked the key out of her lock. I thought I might have lost you to the gods of the online classroom portal.

I’m about to be out of their clutches, see? Dezzie clicked submit and the file disappeared with a shrinking animation and a soft swooshing sound. All free.

Teddy planted a small kiss on the top of her head and she smiled. They’d been together almost all their college careers and that somehow still sent butterflies ricocheting around her stomach. She got to her feet and put her arms around his shoulders, meeting his brown eyes. His brow, pale as paper next to her dark skin, was overcast by a shock of brown hair. Though he was tall, he only had a few inches on her so her hands hooked easily behind his neck.

The hand not clutching the wine between them wrapped around her waist, digging his key into her lower back. She kissed him quickly, as if afraid to lose nerve. Your keys— she started.

The wine— his words overlapped with hers. They laughed and separated their bodies, though Dezzie’s cried out at the parting. She never liked being away from Teddy for long. He pocketed the keys and set out the wine and the bag. I brought Thai, he said.

Perfect, she said. As he set out the few paper containers and reached into the cabinet for plates, Dezzie stepped up behind him and put her hands around his waist. Teddy let out a breath of laughter as she rose slightly on her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. What? she asked. She voiced it as a challenge, but there was laughter in that too. Teddy was never the sort to be bothered by her doing conventionally masculine things.

I love you, he said. Dezzie grinned behind his ear.

I love you too, she said. She let her hands slip over his shoulders and down his back as he dug in the drawer for cutlery.

Desirae, he said.

Yes, dear?

Why is your hand on my ass?

Dezzie laughed. It had gone there almost, not quite, without her bidding it to. You have such a nice ass, she said.

Teddy sighed, but she could hear the smile behind it, and the ache building underneath. The food’ll get cold, he said.

They give us microwaves in student housing now, she countered.

Aren’t you hungry?

It can wait.

God I was hoping you’d say that. There was a clatter of silverware against granite and Teddy’s mouth was on Dezzie’s almost before she’d felt him turn around. Hands found hands and bodies and feet shuffled across tile to wood to rug. The backs of Dezzie’s knees met couch and she sat down. Teddy’s shirt was half undone, and hers was pulled up over her bust.

As they uncovered themselves, Dezzie caught her breath. She moved as slowly as she could, meeting his eyes. By the time she had her shirt over her head Teddy’s had long since hit the floor.

Dezzie… he said.

I’m taking it slow, she said, setting her shirt on the coffee table. We have all summer.

I was afraid you were going to fold it, he said.

Oh, do you think I should? Dezzie asked. I could take a second…wouldn’t want it to get wrinkled.

Christ, you’re beautiful, Teddy said.

Dezzie opened her arms and he got on the couch beside her. These were the moments that Dezzie liked best, and she knew that Teddy did too. Not the sex, the time before. The anticipatory magic of preparation for the act itself. The purposeful unwrapping of both lovers as they prepared to make love.

As Teddy dug through his pants in search of protection, Dezzie slipped her underpants over her hips and stared.

Teddy, she said.

What’s wrong? Everything okay? He stopped his search and was immediately at her side again. Dezzie was still staring at the spattering of red that was slowly soaking across the cotton of her underwear. Your period? You know it’s okay if—

No, she said. It’s . . . no, it’s not supposed to be here yet. They both stared at the splotches, Teddy in puzzlement and Dezzie in mounting horror. Her cycle had always been perfectly regular. She hadn’t been out of sync since her first ever period when she was twelve. Her mother had joked that she could almost set a clock by it. This . . . this wasn’t right.

Dezzie, are you okay? Teddy asked.

I don’t know, she said. I don’t know.

Sometimes that happens, he said. The stress of finals, and—

Really, Teddy? she snapped. When was the last time you menstruated?

Teddy sat back on the couch, looking like he’d been struck, and Dezzie knew why. She had never raised her voice to him. She had rarely even raised her voice around him, and this had always been a sore spot of his as it was. Before Teddy, Dezzie had almost exclusively dated women.

I’m sorry, she said. I’m just . . . .

Dezzie, Teddy sighed. I love you, but I don’t think a few drops of blood are enough to call an ambulance over. Dezzie nodded. He was right, she knew that, but something still felt urgent here. If you’re still worried in the morning I’ll drive you to urgent care?

Yes, Dezzie said. That’s good. Thank you. They sat in silence for a long moment, both naked, Dezzie with her stained underpants around her knees.

Finally, Teddy reached out and touched her shoulder. Hey, he said.

Yeah, she said.

Are you still hungry? he asked.

Dezzie smiled. You always know just what to say, she said. She got to her feet and slipped her underwear back up, then started toward the bathroom.

Where are you going? Teddy asked.

To get a pad, Dezzie said. No one likes free bleeding on the furniture.

Oh right, he said. But what would I know about that?

Teddy . . . . she turned toward him, defenses at the ready, but his smile was wicked and bright.

Gonna leave me for one of your ex-girlfriends now? he asked.

Dezzie rolled her eyes. Yes, Theodore, they really understand me.

Ouch. He was still smiling, and now had her shirt in his hand.

What are you doing with that? she asked.

Wouldn’t want you to get too crazy with the clothes.

Dezzie laughed, blew him a kiss, and walked to the bathroom nearly naked.

LAWRENCE

Lawrence hadn't seen his sister in about six years. Back then, she was twelve. A kid. She was still a kid. None of this shit was fair, but here it was. This time tomorrow, PRPB thugs would be on their way to bang down her door. It was barely midnight the day before her birthday, and he was sitting in a cramped motel room just a few hours outside of town. The kind where no one asks your name. He couldn't be the only runner in the ranks.

He could be damned sure he was the one closest to where they'd lost him.

Amy, fucking hell. Why didn't you write six months ago?

Really, he knew why. She didn't write because if she had he would have had time to find a payphone and talk her down, wheedle at her for weeks and weeks until finally her grim, childish determination to set his wrongs right cracked. She could marry that needle-nose from down the street. They could have a kid, maybe, if her papers hadn't been too