Cress

Chapter 29

      Stepping  back  from the   Rampion's   hulking   side,  Cinder shaded  her  eyes 
        with one arm and peered  up  at  their slipshod  work. Jacin  was   still   up   on
        of the squeaky metal ladders the townspeople   had    brought   them, 
          painting over all the  remained  of   the  ship's  signature decoration—the
        lounging   naked   lady,  the mascot that Thorne had painted   himself before 
          Cinder had  ever  met    him.   Cinder  had   hated  the  painting from  the
         moment she laid eyes on   it, but  now  she  was   sad  to see it covered up.
       Like she was erasing a part of Thorne, part of his memory.
        But  word  had  gotten  out  through  the  media  that  the wanted  ship   had  
        this very specific marking, and that was unacceptable.
        Swiping  a  bead  of   sweat   from   her   brow,  Cinder   surveyed the  rest  of
      their   work.  They  didn't  have enough  paint   to   cover  the entire   ship, so 
        they'd   opted to focus on the main ramp's  enormous  side   panel,  so  that  it
      would  at  least  look like that exterior   piece had been fully replaced,  which
       wasn't  uncommon, rather than looking like they  had   tried  to  cover   something
   up,  which  would  defeat  the purpose.
          Unfortunately, it seemed that as  much  black paint had   ended  up on
        the  dusty ground and the townspeople, who   had   come out in droves   to  
            help  them, than had actually ended up on the ship.   Cinder herself had
           paint  died   on   her   collarbone, her temple, clumped in her hair, and   stuck
          in  the  joints  of her   metal   hand, but she  was  relatively  unscathed compared
      with  some  of   their   assistants. The children in particular, eager to be helpful
     at   first, had  soon   made a  game of seeing   who  could  paint   up   their
     bodies to look the most cyborg.
      It   was   a  strange of    honor.  Since  Cinder  had  arrived,  she'd  been 
seeing this  mimicry   more and   more. The   backs   of   T-shirts illustrated
            with bionic spines. Shoes decorated with bits of  assorted  metal.   Necklaces
       hung   with   washers   and vintage lug nuts.
        One girl had even been proud  to  show Cinder her new real  tattoo—wires 
               and robotic joints   overtaking   the skin of her left   foot.   Cinder   had  
              smiled   awkwardly and resisted the urge to tell   her   that   the   tattoo   wasn't
            cybernetic ally accurate.
        The   attention made Cinder   uncomfortable. Not because   she   wasn't  
flattered, but because she wasn't used to it. She wasn't used to being accepted
     by  strangers, even appreciated. She wasn't used to being admired.
      "Hey, mongrels, try to stay in the lines!"
       Cinder  looked  up,  just  as  Jacin  flicked  his  paintbrush, sending  a  splatter 
        of   back paint  at the three    children beneath him. They    all  shrieked  
            with  laughter and ran for cover beneath the ship's underside.
     Wiping her hands on her cargo  pants, Cinder  went to  look  at  the  finger 
            painting the kids had been doodling  on  the  other  side  of   the   ramp's   plating.
Simple stick figures depicted a  family  holding hands. Two  adults. Three
              children    of    various heights.   And   at the  end—Cinder.   She   knew     it
      was  her by  the ponytail  jutting out from the side of   her head and how
       one of the  stick  figure's  legs was  twice  asnwide as the other.
She shook her head, baffled.
       The ladder shook beside her as Jacin clambered down. "You   should
wipe  it  off," he said, unhooking a damp rag from his belt.
       "It's not hurting anything."
         Scoffing, Jacin draped the rag over her shoulder. "The  whole  point  of
  this  is  to get rid of obvious markings."
"But it's so small..."
"Since when are you so sentimental?"