3rd World Products, Book 17 (42 page)

“Okay. I’ll keep you posted if you want.”

She nodded. “Sure, I’d like that. Thanks, Ed. Bye.”

Unlike most everybody else I’d spoken to by pad lately, she waited until I replied, “Bye,” before poking her ‘off’ icon. I liked that.

Chapter Twenty-nine

All I had to do was get comfy and relax a bit. Tea let me know of another 911 call almost immediately. A kid had gone missing from a trailer park in Brooksville. Calling up my board, I grabbed my pack and gathered more info on the way. Male, age nine, height, weight, hair, address. Last seen in jeans, no shirt, and might have fishing gear. No picture yet.

I found the place on the east side of US-41. Room for about thirty mobile homes had been gouged out of the forest decades ago. To the south and east were low forested hills, to the north was a combination of pasture and swamp spotted with clumps of trees. Across the highway were a convenience store and gas station and a number of other small roadside businesses.

The place was already swarming with town cops and deputies. A deputy lieutenant I knew in passing was talking to a city cop near the parking area when I landed. I sent a probe to the kid’s home to get a whiff of his scent and his DNA.

The deputy finished his chat, stepped away from the cop’s car, and turned to me to ask, “You here to help search?”

Looking up as I sent out fifty probes in all directions and had them begin spiraling outward, I nodded. “Yup.”

He told me to head for the shuffleboard court and find somebody named Lewinter to be assigned to a search team.

Nodding, I said, “Thanks,” and sipped coffee as I studied the area. Uphill or down? An adult might wander the easiest path, but there was no telling what a kid would do.

The LT was a dozen paces away when he looked back and saw I was still standing at the edge of the parking area. He turned around and marched back to me, pointing at a building and saying, “The shuffleboard court is over there.”

One of the probes bingoed on the kid’s scent and I put up a screen, startling the hell out of the deputy. I added two probes to follow the bingo scent and let the others continue spiraling. Two more hits, both in a line generally northward.

A third hit occurred less than twenty feet from the edge of the swamp, then other probes began signaling along the shoreline. I had the two sniffers continue following his trail at their best speed, but the area was heavily laden with scents and it slowed them down.

The deputy muttered, “Oh, dear Lord, he’s down by the water,” and said, “Come with me,” as he trotted away.

Nope. Not my plan. Calling up my board again, I headed for the bingo points at the shore and lifted fifty feet for a look around. No kid, but more bingo blips appeared on the screen. I continued following the blips and moved ahead of them along the anticipated line of travel.

Now it made more sense to have the probes generally follow that line and criss-cross it while some of them followed it directly. When I looked back the buildings seemed tiny. Had to be almost four hundred yards so far. I saw several people hurrying after me. One of those four-wheel ATVs came roaring around some trees and barreled down the slope to get ahead of them.

Returning my attention to the screen, I saw that three of the probes had gone stationary some distance ahead. I spurred the board and studied the shore line. Oaks, Willows, and other overgrowth made it impossible to see anything, but a high pitched scream ahead made me think they’d prob’ly found the kid.

Switching the probes to view mode, I saw why the kid had screamed. He was standing in a waterlogged canoe that had been dragged half-ashore. He screamed again as he used a two-foot gator to pound at the face of one about eight feet long. The bigger gator was nosing along the side of the boat, and every time he shoved his face up for a look at his intended meal, the kid smacked him with the little gator. As I was about to stun the big gator, it managed to chomp on the small gator and yanked it out of the kid’s hands.

By that time I was there. The kid had backed as far away as he could, fetching up against the other side of the soggy canoe. The gator moved away into the water, chomping again twice and then letting the smaller gator drop before it turned around. Apparently realizing it would be easier to get to the kid from the submerged end of the canoe, it moved toward him.

To avoid drowning the gator, I let it clamber over the end of the canoe and scoot forward until water no longer covered its head, then stunned it as the kid screamed again.

Standing on my board above the muck surrounding the canoe, I said, “Hey, kid…” and the urchin screamed yet again as he spun around. I finished, “Don’t worry, I stunned him.”

The kid screeched, “
What?!
”

“I knocked him out. He can’t get you now, so climb out of there. Where’s your fishing gear?”

Clambering over the side of the canoe, he slogged up the bank to solid ground and said, “I ain’t got no fishing gear.”

Mimicking him, I said, “You ain’t got no shoes, neither.”

Still shaking, he nonetheless gave me a sour look.

“I lost ‘em in th’ mud.”

Sending probes around the canoe, I found them, then turned the probes to tendrils and shook the sneakers in the water to get the mud off before dropping them farther up the shore on solid ground.

The kid yelped, “Why didn’t you just give ‘em to me?”

“Would you have put them on right there in the mud?”

He started toward them grousing, “It wouldn’t a-hurt ‘em none.”

Well up the shore from us, the noisy ATV slid to a stop and backed up, then turned toward us and gunned it down the slope. It again slid to a stop, this time sliding halfway into the water in the slick mud. Backing up, it stopped beside us.

The kid seemed to know him and began yammering about what had happened in the canoe as a bunch of very winded searchers arrived on the trail. Seeing the kid seemed okay, the deputy in the lead slowed to a quick march and stopped near me.

Though I figured he’d seen everything well enough on his way down, I pointed at the canoe and said, “There’s a big-assed gator in that canoe.”

“Yeah, I saw it coming down here. You the one who killed it?”

I chuckled, “If it was dead, I wouldn’t be warning you about it.”

He said, “Oh, shit!” and ordered the ATV guy to get the kid up to the trail, then began yelling at the others arriving to stay up there.

Lifting carefully up through the dense branches, I headed west as soon as I cleared them. Clumps and strings of people all along the shoreline were heading toward the ATV. I waved and some waved back, then I was over US-41. I followed it south to Sandy’s Place.

Sandy wasn’t there, but Brenda was; she tapped me a beer and I fed the pool table. Three regulars sat at the bar. They watched, but didn’t seem inclined to play pool. The beer and the balls ran out at about the same time. I thought about another of each and decided not to bother. Waving at Brenda, I headed for the door.

My implant pinged as I stood under the awning letting my eyes adjust to bright sunlight. It was Myra. Calling to cancel, now that they had the info? Nah, maybe not. They’d still have questions.

Putting up a screen, I answered, “Hi, Myra. I’m trying to suffer gracefully, as ordered.”

Reading the letters on the window behind me, Myra laughed, “So I see. Well, you won’t have to suffer as long as I thought. Mr. Maxwell’s sending me down there today.”

“Great! How soon can you be ready to go?”

“Six this evening. Pick me up out front and we’ll stop by my place for some things. We have a meeting at the Cape at ten tomorrow morning.”

I saluted. “Aye, aye, ma’am. Don’t forget your summer pants.”

She chuckled, “My shorts, you mean?”

“Yeah, them. Maybe a bathing suit, too. It’s in the high eighties down here.”

“In November?!”

“Yeah! Check it out, we’re sweltering and stuff. I’m having to hang out in bars to keep cool.”

Lifting a piece of paper, she said, “This says you were hanging around a swamp a little while ago.”

“Wow, you NSA types are really on top of things! It’s almost like you were watching me or something!”

Looking up as if for relief from heaven, Myra said, “Good guess, Sherlock. Look, I’m going to wrap some things up here so I can hand things off and clock out clean. I’ll see you at six. Bye!”

“Bye, Miz Myra.”

She poked her pad off. I let my screen vanish and called up my board. I had time to clean the house a bit and spiff up before I headed for Maryland.

*

- End 3rd World Products, Inc. Book 17 -

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Abintra Press titles:

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SCIENCE FICTION

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 1”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 2”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 3”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 4”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 5”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 6”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 7”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 8”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 9”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 10”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 11”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 12”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 13”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 14”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 15”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 16”

“3rd World Products, Inc., Book 17”

“An Encounter in Atlanta”

“ANSEN”

“Assignment: ATLANTA”

(A Sandy Shield Novel!)

“Bitten and Smitten” (Vampires!)

“HUNT CLUB” (Vampires!)

“In Service to a Goddess, Book 1”

“In Service to a Goddess, Book 2”

“In Service to a Goddess, Book 3”

“In Service to a Goddess, Book 4”

“In Service to a Goddess, Book 5”

“STARDANCER”

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“Anne”

“Cade’s Quest-The Beginning”

“Crystal River Witch”

“Dragonfly Run”

“Field Decision”

“Kim”

“Mindy”

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