Lightning (9 page)

Bodhi followed the gesture of her hand, but just past her head, a bush pulled to the side. He motioned to Taraji and Glade. They ducked behind a tall rocrete wind barrier and drew their weapons.

The bush sprang back into place, and several seconds later four men turned the far corner and approached using the pathway directly in front of the bushes. They continued to walk past the transport in the opposite direction. Bodhi's chest started to unclench.

A sound caught his attention.

Bodhi and Taraji spun at the same instant. With the sun momentarily in his eyes, a laser zipped past Bodhi's head. He jerked and spun around in a lower position, firing several heated exchanges with two additional men. Bodhi dropped
one of them with a shot that exploded into several starbursts, indicating the man had been carrying explosives. He dodged and fired at the other man, who ducked behind a tree along the walkway as Taraji shot one man hiding on the left. Another man shot at her but missed. Glade swung around the other side of the barrier, aimed, and shot the one firing at Taraji. A laser shot deflected from the wind barrier and blasted Glade's weapon from his hand.

“We need to make a run for the building,” Taraji yelled to Bodhi over the laser fire. She wrapped a quick pouch bandage on Glade's bleeding, burnt hand.

“Glade needs to go between us, and we can tag-team, running and firing,” Bodhi said. Taraji nodded.

They stayed low behind the wind barrier and snaked their way among the trees and across the landing pad to the edge of the first building. A minute passed with no laser fire. Bodhi breathed easier.

Two more shots blazed from a man to their right, one deflecting off the edge of the building, the other striking a tree, leaving a smoldering fist-sized mark. Streaking along the side of the building, Bodhi followed the traces from the other weapon and got a direct sight on the assailant. He charged to a stop, took aim, and downed the enemy with a laser to the knee. The man rolled a couple of times and came to rest against a tree, his leg smoldering.

Taraji followed the one who had wounded Glade as he ducked around the second building. She slipped around the side, with Glade and Bodhi bringing up the rear. Taraji dropped the man with two shots. They turned in time to
hear the other one running away across the landing pad. Bodhi, Glade, and Taraji stormed into the security building and sealed the door.

Bodhi leaned against the wall after the door closed. The right side of his face, still warm from the close laser miss, reminded him of his mortality.

Was this level of danger going to be a regular part of his life from now on?

His insides felt odd, like a clock was ticking . . .

S
elah rode in silence for the first hour, still trying to understand the earthquake. It had felt and tasted real, from the glass embedded in her hands to the grit in her throat. But she kept silent, fearful Treva or Cleon would think she was ill and not allow her to continue. She'd have to talk about it sooner or later, but how would she explain something with no evidence? Maybe she was going crazy. After all, she thought she'd moved an equipment rack by yelling at it. And then there was that weird throbbing in her hands. Did all this strangeness have something to do with the lightning flashes?

She looked up from fiddling with her fingers. Treva stared at her from the front seat. “Are you all right? You seem a little too deep in thought. There's all this beautiful scenery going by and you're missing it.”

“I'm fine, just tired. I got up too early this morning.” Selah feigned a yawn.

She glanced at her surroundings, mostly forest on both sides with a few grassy clearings scattered about. They followed a worn hard-pack road. The AirWagon traveled on an energy current about three feet above the surface, which turned out to be a good thing because they'd recently passed a few spots with trees fallen across the road or boulders obstructing their passage. If this were an ordinary horse-drawn wagon, they'd surely have had to stop and clear the obstacles.

A ways back, off in the distance, she'd seen the scarred, overgrown remnants of high-rise buildings, places old folks once called concrete jungles. This haggard road probably served as the main artery between those dead cities. She peered over Cleon's shoulder at the navigational compass. With its bio-computer map overlays, she thought it might tell what cities they had once been.

Cleon glanced back at her and smiled. He had a natural ability with this kind of machine since he used slightly smaller Mountain AirStreams on his farm outside TicCity. “This kind of high-tech equipment could increase the production on my farm,” he said.

Selah snickered. “And it doesn't hurt that it has comfortable seats and a magnetic force field that keeps the wind from whipping our hair around, which is a decidedly good thing since you're traveling close to forty miles an hour.”

Jaenen leaned over to tap Cleon's shoulder. “Folks, I think we have a problem.” He turned in his seat to look behind them.

“What's wrong?” Cleon glanced about in quick succession.

“Those two tree blockages we just passed weren't natu
ral. I saw fresh chop marks on one, and the other wasn't rotted or hit by lightning. No reason it fell without help.” Jaenen swiveled his seat to face the side panel that stowed their weapons. “And the boulder—there wasn't any spot on that hillside where it could have come from. It was rolled here from elsewhere.”

“What do you think we should do?” Treva's glance skittered over every tree and bush.

“We're probably going to have a fight. We should arm ourselves.” Jaenen reached for the panel.

Cleon cycled down the thruster, and the AirWagon slowed and drifted to the ground.

“No! Don't stop!” Jaenen lunged to push the controls forward.

From trees on both sides of the road, multiple bodies swung out in front of them on ropes and twisted vines. Selah yelped and grabbed onto her seat, assessing the number of attackers.

“It's an ambush. Punch it!” Treva yelled as Cleon scrambled to get the thruster reengaged. Doing an instant stop-start had created a magnetic mislock. The thrusters revved but refused to engage.

A grubby male with unkempt hair and horridly dirty fingernails, his smell preceding him, clawed his way over the side of the AirWagon next to Selah and raised an old-fashioned wood-handled grip rifle, pointing it at Cleon. “I would raise my hands in the air if I were you, boy.”

Cleon hunched his shoulders and slowly raised his hands from the controls.

The man spoke in a heavy Southern drawl Selah didn't
recognize, but her immediate concern was moving away from the rancid smell before she lost the lunch they had eaten awhile back. She edged closer to Jaenen on the other side.

Another bandit with a patch on his right eye reached over the side and grabbed her, his fingers entwining her hair. “Where you goin', pretty lady?”

Selah screamed and clawed at his hand. Her training kicked in and her mind blocked the sensation of pain. She planted her feet and turned her body, preparing to give him a sharp blow to the throat.

Jaenen shot from his seat and punched the guy in the face. Spittle and blood flew from the man's mouth and nose as his head jerked back. He released Selah and fell to the ground, clutching his nose.

Adrenaline coursed through her body. Selah dropped to the floor of the AirWagon and scrambled away from the partition, knowing she could easily be caught again.

Jaenen reached down, pulled her to her feet, and enveloped her in his arms, glaring at the bandits. “Leave the girl alone. Take our supplies.”

The others, all men and equally as dirty, laughed at Eye Patch writhing on the ground, clutching his face. He jumped to his feet, cursing, and scrambled back over the side. Jaenen pushed Selah away from the danger and assumed a fighting stance.

Her lip trembled, but she refused to show these men that she feared them. She lowered herself to the floor behind Jaenen and moved just her eyes to search for the leather bag of kapos. They weren't her first thought for self-defense, but
she would feel more secure knowing exactly where they lay if she needed them.

Treva and Cleon were circled on three sides with rifles pointed at their faces. Cleon kept his hands high. “What do you want? We don't have anything worth stealing.”

“I think we'll take this here fancy wagon of yours.” Dirty Nails had been chewing something, and now he spit, leaving a trail of brown slime on the floor of the AirWagon near the seat Selah had just vacated.

Another man with a dark green rag tied around his head climbed up on the side wall and leaned in. “This ain't gonna rightly do us any good. I told you we shoulda let them pass by. This machine needs to be charged. How you think we're gonna do that after it runs out?”

Selah took mental notes. They didn't come from a town or community with fusion power sources.

A raggedy man with leather ties holding his pants to his worn boots climbed over the side near Dirty Nails and pointed at the console in front of Cleon. “And that's got one of those bio-print controls. Only his hand will run the thing.”

Selah perked up. She didn't know that. How did these guys? They looked like they didn't know what water was, let alone technology.

“Then we take his hand,” Eye Patch sneered.

Selah's chest clutched at the thought of losing her brother in such a vicious way for a meaningless theft. Her breathing shallowed. She would fight to the end to save Cleon.

“That won't work, you dumb knot. It's a bio-computer.
The hand needs to be alive. And we ain't even takin' another mouth with us to feed,” Leather Ties said.

“Ain't you just mister smart britches,” Dirty Nails said. “Then what do you propose we do? We gotta get something out of this.” He ogled Treva and Selah.

Selah raised her chin in defiance.
Try it and I'll
detach your body parts
, she thought. Treva's head snapped in her direction. A hint of a nervous smile crossed her lips. She must have heard Selah's thought.

“Take our supplies.” Jaenen gestured to the neatly stacked packages. “We have a lot of food.”

Selah noted he didn't offer up their hidden weapons. Her heart pounded. She hadn't prepared for a battle. She needed focus, not fear. She pulled in a few long breaths to calm her quivering extremities. A flash popped before her eyes. She squeezed them tight.
Not now!

Dirty Nails and Eye Patch herded Selah and the group out of the AirWagon and onto the side of the road. Leather Ties held them at gunpoint while the AirWagon was stripped of belongings, and several of the bandits moved off into the woods with the majority of the booty.

Selah cringed watching the supplies disappear. One of the bandits noticed her leather bag. He poured the kapos out on the ground and picked one up by the blade using two fingers.

“What would anybody want with this baby pig sticker?” He threw his head back and laughed.

“You could probably give them to Lys to clean his nails,” another answered.

Dirty Nails growled his displeasure at being the butt of
their jokes and fired off a round, just missing the ear of the one who'd last spoken. Everyone scrambled from the vicinity, leaving the man standing there motionless as a tree, still holding Selah's knife.

“You don't have to get so ornery about it. I was just joking.” The man threw the knife to the ground with the others, walked over the bunch, and ground them into the soft forest floor at the edge of the road.

Selah tried to make eye contact with Treva to keep her friend calm. She thought any show of emotion might give the bandits further provocation, and Treva appeared on the verge of tears. Cleon and Jaenen took up positions in front of the girls as a shield.

Dirty Nails grabbed Selah's backpack from the remaining pile and dumped it out. He kicked through her clothing and other items, then felt over the bag and ripped open the side pocket, exposing the wrapped cloth. She tensed.

He dropped the bag and unfolded the cloth, discarded the data glass pack, and turned the reader over in his hand. “Does everything you people use take some kind of power? You're all slaves to the order.” He tossed the reader on the bag.

Selah squeezed her lips tight, hoping the reader and data glass hadn't broken.

“We need something more to give you passage through our land. How much money you people got to go with this bounty?” Dirty Nails walked the line of them, stopping near Selah. Her stomach lurched. She forced down her gag reflex at the rancid smell emanating from him. How could one person possess such a vile odor?

“We've got very little, but I don't think it will work for you.” Cleon held out his ComLink and opened the bio-coin interface.

Dirty Nails slapped his arm away. “I mean real money! Gold, silver, stones?”

Selah jerked her head around. She hadn't heard anyone talk of stones since she was little. He meant diamonds, the stones of barter in the wild lands. Very few people she knew dealt in any physical currencies—too bulky, and easily lost or stolen.

Cleon shook his head. “No. We don't use metals or stones, only virtual coin.”

Selah knew just what he was thinking. If they spent virtual coin it could be traced.

Dirty Nails grabbed Treva by the arm. Cleon reached to stop him. Two rifles drew down on him. He raised his arms in surrender as he backed away.

“I think we may need to take these here women with us as the rest of the payment.” Dirty Nails sneered at Cleon and turned to face Jaenen. “You had something to say about my friend touching your woman before. What you got to say now?”

Jaenen opened his mouth.

“I'm not his woman.” Selah put fists to hips. “You talk to
me
if you have something to say
about
me.” Suddenly she realized how stupid that sounded, but there was no taking it back. She stuck out her chin and glared at Dirty Nails.

The bandits howled, making snide comments about Dirty Nails' lack of ability to control one little woman. His hand shot out and he slapped Selah across the face.

She saw it coming as if in slow motion. She flinched, turning with the slap to lessen the blow. Fear dissolved. She licked her lip, looking for blood, then cracked her neck from side to side. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands. Pain heightened her sense of fear.

Jaenen lurched to her defense. A rifle barrel intercepted him. He retreated, hands raised, forehead bloody.

Selah's eyes narrowed. What manner of craziness was this? Everything was moving in singular frames of time. She glared at Dirty Nails again, wishing she could shoot flames from her eyes.

The smile left his face. He threw his rifle to the side and grabbed the front of her shirt with both hands, drawing her into his putrid smell. She gagged and recoiled. He yanked her forward again to stand nose to nose, snapping her head back.

A guttural roar burst from her chest. “Nooo!” Selah thrust out both palms to push him away. Dirty Nails lifted from the ground and slammed into the top side of the AirWagon. He dropped to the ground with legs and arms splayed.

The remaining bandits turned and ran, leaving Dirty Nails to flop around on the ground. The sound of horses galloping away into the forest punctuated his curses as he gained his footing and snatched up his discarded rifle. He spit and scrambled after his men. At the end of the forest he turned back. “What kind of freak are you, lady?”

Selah stumbled back, extending her arms to steady herself. Cleon and Jaenen stood rooted.

Treva rushed to her side. “What was that?”