Lie to Me (15 page)

That got James’s full attention. His buddy narrowed his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Besides threatening to take everything she had, I might’ve already gotten a little dirty with her earlier.”

“When are you going to learn to keep the snake in your pants?” James’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Stone snorted. James chastising him on this was nothing short of the pot and the kettle idiom. “When you learn the same lesson.”

“She’s on the outskirts of town.” His friend tapped a finger against the computer. “Near the gate. Want me to go and get her?”

“We’ll both go.” Stone re-secured his .38 in the holster on his ankle, and strapped a knife to his other ankle and one on each thigh.

A loud scraping sound emerged, and he looked over his shoulder to see James ripping off a strip of tape. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Kyle, remain with them,” Stone instructed one of the four remaining soldiers. “No one in or out. They make a noise, slit their throats. You three are with us.”

––––––––

T
hunder rumbled and lightning lit up the sky as Kella parked her buggy at the wall of the Quad. She’d planned to grab the last of her belongings from her home and make a run for it, but the storm threatened her intentions. She might have to hole up somewhere quiet, snag an hour or two of sleep, and shove off at the first sign of clear skies. Driving through the badlands at night was almost suicidal, thanks to sinkholes that showed without any warning, but she knew her way around the territory better than most. If she took it slow, she would be safe enough.

The more time she’d spent pondering her altercation with Stone, the more certain she was that she was in danger. She didn’t think he knew her identity, but getting lost was her only option, and she had more than enough money to start over. It just chapped her ass she had to leave behind the biggest dig she’d ever found.

At least she’d find safety amid her friends in the missile silo, and she already shared a residence with Reaper there too. Dutch could alter her V-chip settings, and she’d be a new person overnight.

My dig will still be lost
.

Thunder boomed, and the horizon lit up with purple and red as lightning sliced toward the terrain. Looked to be a doozy of a thunderstorm approaching. She hoped this wasn’t a crimson rainstorm, but the bright red streaks implied that was likely a futile hope. That stuff hurt and in large quantities had the same effect as acid.

Scooping Retro out of the buggy, she set the kippy on her feet, and strode to the door in the wall. Certain individuals had been given limited admittance to come and go through the access panel whenever they chose. All others had to enter or exit Quad2 through the main gates. She only possessed the specific privilege because of her archeologist status, and none of her workers were granted the same freedom, which was why they bunked down at the site.

One last peek over her shoulder at the clouds showed them billowing thick and ominous on the horizon, with her buggy a minor anomaly in what was otherwise a stunning view. She didn’t worry about leaving her vehicle unattended because it was coded to her fingerprint, and the acidic rain was dangerous only to living flesh.

Retro whined as Kella slapped her palm on the panel next to the door, a bright-blue light glided downward beneath the pane, reading her handprint. “I know, baby girl. I’ll get you safe before the rain falls.”

Identity verified, the pocket door slid open. The hiss of the door closing behind her came just seconds after she stepped through the opening. She adjusted her backpack and headed in the direction of town.

“Mack!”

She glanced to her left and spied Reaper. Altering her direction, she walked toward him. “What’s up?”

“There’s buzz flying about some shit that went down at Ritzzy tonight involving your man.” A noise to the left and behind Reaper caused him to glance over his shoulder.

“Probably a dog.” She said after spying nothing. “What happened?”

“Some type of confrontation between him, Satan, and Kris Stoddard. There are other rumors that Mark Evans was dragged into their bedroom, but I’m calling bullshit on that one.” He frowned down at her. “He’s the Director of Regency, Mack, only a crazy motherfucker would pull him into it.”

“Satan
is
a crazy motherfucker.” Kella groaned. For as long as she’d known James, he’d taken his position seriously to guard Stone.

James was five years older than Stone. Born into the Regency of Assassins and trained from the time he could walk, he was a stone-cold killer. The rumor went that at sixteen he’d passed all his assassin exams, the youngest ever to accomplish that feat. Some said it should’ve been impossible, but the outrageous rumors weren’t vocally denied.

One of his final tests had been to kill someone he loved. Gossip alleged he offed his mother, but she knew his mom, so that rumor was untrue. She figured most of the stories were mere legends, but picking and choosing which ones to believe was the hard part when she could picture him doing all of them.

After his impressive pass, he’d been assigned to watch the Regent’s son. Stone had been eleven, Kella ten, and James sixteen. From that moment forward, Stone and James had been thick as thieves. Not once had she ever encountered Stone alone again. Judging by the scandal sheets, they were tighter now than ever before.

“I saw him kill a pit bull with his bare hands.” He had been saving her and Stone at the time, but it’d left a lasting impression. “I was headed to get my stuff and hide out at the silos. I don’t know when this Stone-complication is going to blow over, but if I stay here the X-Diplomats will be compromised. I don’t think Stone knows my real identity, but he’s interested in me for some reason. Want to walk with me?”

Reaper nodded, his dreads seeming darker in the thunderclouds. No sooner had they hit the covered walk a few minutes later and headed up main street, the sky opened up and let loose pink rain. The water would sting, but wouldn’t blister the way crimson rain would. Only one problem, pink usually turned into crimson.

Retro whined louder, and Kella paused to scoop her into her arms. Reaper scratched the animal’s ear as Kella unzipped her backpack. She snuggled the three-pound kippy into her rucksack where she knew her pet would feel safest.

“You talk to Dutch?” she asked as she re-zipped the pack.

“Yeah. She’s almost finished with the computer virus, and then we’ll be able to upload the video.” He stopped walking and turned so he could stare down the way they’d come.

“Something wrong?” she asked after realizing a few steps later he’d halted.

“Thought I heard something. Most folks aren’t out in this shit.” Reaper indicated the weather with a wave of his hand, but his gaze remained fixated in the direction they’d come from.

Anytime Mother Nature gave them crimson rain, folks closed up shop and went home. It could last for hours, and no one wanted to get caught in it. As it was, they were the only two out and about in what looked like a ghost town.

Kella retraced her footsteps to join him, treading quietly. A good minute passed before she said, “I don’t hear anything.”

“I don’t like this.” It wasn’t often Reaper got spooked, so she trusted his gut.

“We’ll take cover at my office.” They turned to head up the boardwalk, but three men blocked their path. “Stone’s,” she explained to Reaper who the men answered to.

“Let’s go.” He grasped her arm, and they turned to head back the way they’d come, but Stone and James blocked their path.

The gleam in Stone’s eyes caused a chill to scurry through her. “Thought you said you didn’t know Mackella Starke Emmerson?”

“Run,” Reaper whispered. “I’ll hold them off.”

Leaving her friend to the wolves felt wrong. She didn’t know Stone any longer and couldn’t guess what he’d do to Reaper in retaliation for aiding her second escape. “But—”

“
Run
!” he shoved her toward the rain.

A second warning wasn’t required. Kella took off at a flat out run, jumping off the side of the boardwalk onto compact earth. Thankfully it’d just begun to rain so it hadn’t gotten muddy yet, but the land would be nothing but slippery sludge soon.

Across the street, she glanced over her shoulder in time to spy Stone leaping off the walkway headed in her direction and Reaper engaging Satan. Under a normal scenario she’d enjoy watching that fight since they were evenly matched.

Kella sprinted down the alley between two buildings and slung her arm in the remaining hole of her backpack. While taking a left, then right, and another immediate left, she tugged on the extra length of string dangling from either shoulder and yanked to secure the pack to her back. Good thing Retro was snug as a bug in the backpack and used to being jogged about.

She jumped up on a low shack and hauled herself over the makeshift fence.

A male grunt and the groan of wood told her Stone was hot on her heels. She zigzagged through the city, going up and over debris, the way she’d been taught to evade angry spooners she pickpocketed. Digging in muck and climbing through dig sites helped keep her nimble.

Eight years of running would be wasted if he caught her. If she could just get to the door in the wall, she’d have a big head start on him since he couldn’t access the panel.

She dashed left and dove beneath the saloon, while hoping he was far enough behind her he would miss her plunge. The noise of the revelers inside the honkytonk covered any sound she made and the kippy’s growl. Pausing long enough to spare a quick glance behind her, she didn’t see Stone. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t be breathing down her neck any moment though.

Crawling out from underneath the tavern on the backside of the establishment, she wasted no time knocking dirt off. The stinging rain would do that in time. Instead, Kella used all her energy to sprint along the row. A few minutes later she came to the wall, smacking her palm on the panel as rain pummeled her.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she muttered glancing over her shoulder. Spying no one, she prayed for a miracle and the safety of her buggy. Just as the door hissed open, Stone ran into view.

“Kella!” he yelled. “You can’t outrun me!”

Watch me, pretty boy.

Why hadn’t she noticed how slow the door moved before? Turning sideways, she squeezed between the door and jamb. Free to the other side, she raced to her buggy, jabbed her thumb over the sensor, and the engine revved to life. A glimpse in the direction of the door showed no sign of Stone.

Kella threw the buggy in gear, yanked her wheel to the right, and punched the pedal. Mud spewed from her back tires, but the wheels gained traction a second later and the buggy jerked forward. Without lights she would be driving blind come dark. As it was, the deluge pelted her exposed skin, tingling like crimson rain, but not blistering. After jerking her backpack off, she held one of her hands up, blocking the rain the best she could.

She passed the skeletal remains of the United States Navy plane wreckage on her left and gave a sigh of relief. Most folks wouldn’t follow her sixty wheels out into the badlands. Only the suicidal would trail her.

A loud bang erupted, and she screamed as her buggy careened sideways before going into a three-sixty spin after spin after spin. Both hands gripping the steering wheel she rode out the wreck until her vehicle came to an abrupt halt. Thankful the buggy didn’t flip she pondered how she managed to remain within the contraption during the spin.

Shaking all over, she looked up the way she’d come to see if the spins had left tracks in the mud. Instead she saw Stone. Jaw set, and his long-legged stride eating up the space between them, he marched toward her.

No
!

Kella hurled herself from the buggy and ran. A good fifty yards away something heavy hit her in the back, knocking the breath from her lungs. The earth came into view and she braced herself for impact, while mentally cataloging the scrapes and cuts she’d receive. Then she was face up, water pelting her front when they hit the ground.

She took a moment to get her bearings. Beneath her was the buff body of Stone. From the corner of her eye, his bicep bulged where his arm looped around her collarbone. The second hand of an antique, military style black watch counted off the seconds with minute ticks.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“No.” Stone had captured her.
No
she was not okay. She’d become his slave like he’d wanted, and all her freedom would disappear. Pretty sure she cried from frustration, she was thankful the rain would hide her weakness. Only a coward would give up. She still had a chance.

“Are you bleeding? Where are you hurt?” He gave her a mechanical pat down.

Kella lifted her arm, only to drive her elbow into his gut. His grunt verified she’d hit her target...his liver. Springing to her feet, she took a step, but his grip caught her ankle, and he yanked. She hit the mud face-first. A moment later he was on her, straddling her hips and flipping her to her back. Using his thigh muscles, he imprisoned her legs together. They fought for control of her arms. Another jab to his liver showed no effect to his superior strength. She throat-punched him, but he jerked back at the last second, escaping the blow. Somehow he managed to nab both her arms in his hold. His fingers curled around her wrists, and he wrestled both of her arms above her head, pressing them into the mud.

For precious minutes she wasted energy struggling against his clutch beneath him, but he just held tight, waiting her out. It was a smart move, and she resented him for that wise decision.

“Finally tired?” Stone asked when she went limp.

The tears were back, and again she was thankful of the rain. “You shot my tire out.”

“Yes.” Securing his hold on her wrists with one hand, he used the other to shove the wet skeins of her hair out of her face.

“You could’ve killed me.”

“I weighed the odds. Death by flipping or death by Feeders.”

Pfft
...like all spooners, he failed to understand Feeders offered no threat to a Xeno. And usually not to dregs either. Only spooners should fear them.