by Ryan Michele
Reaching over to the side table in the grass I used to hold my weapons, I grabbed three more blades, throwing them in quick secession, one after another, the breeze sweeping my hair around my face. Each one cut through the wood like butter, only millimeters from the original knife. Alternating, I used both my arms and hands equally. Too many people relied solely on their dominant hand to lead with. Never put all your cards in one deck.
“You just keep getting better and better at that,” Ms. M said from her back-porch patio. Our yards, while fenced in, connected with a gate in the middle. She sat at a round glass table, with these rockers that were the most comfortable things to sit in. I’d known because I sat in them many times over the years. Once I fell asleep in one only to wake up with Ms. M screaming at the top of her lungs, making me jump a mile. Her sense of humor wasn’t lacking.
I turned with a smile on my lips. “Lots and lots of practice.”
“Now you ain’t goin’ off to cut some man’s balls off. Are ya?”
That had me bursting out laughing. Ms. M was eighty-eight-years-old and didn’t give two-shits if you liked what she said or not. She told it like it was, and to hell with everyone around her. You didn’t like it, leave her be. It was why I liked her so damn much. It was refreshing to have someone be straight and to the point, not sugarcoating shit to soften the blow. The blow would always be there. Being up front was the best way to go. Ms. M was that.
Luna, my yellow lab, barked as Ms. M turned to her. “Now, shush.” Luna listened but whined, looking over and wanting to bound over to me. My dog stayed with Ms. M while I practiced. No need for my pup to get hurt, and with the way she always had to be into everything I was, it wasn’t a good combination. Plus, Ms. M loved her like her own, and Luna loved her too—when she gave her doggie treats which was all the time.
“I’m done,” I replied after catching my breath. Ms. M pointed her finger to me and Luna bounded off, through her yard, the gate and right up to me. “Down,” I ordered as she tried to jump up on me. She had a knack for that and sometimes knocked me off balance right to my ass. She was a free spirit and very energetic, but that went along with the breed of dog.
“And no, Ms. M. No balls will be cut off unless they deserve it.”
Making my way over to Ms. M, I climbed up the three short stairs and took a seat next to her. The Alabama sun shone down through the canopy, making us melt.
She patted my hand. “That’s right, child. You don’t let no man give you shit. Don’t care how good he is in bed. Vibrators can do the same thing a man can do.”
Her humor was uncanny, and I loved coming over and talking to her. We'd built this special bond over the last six years since I moved next door to her. She’d lived here for forty-five.
“Sorry, but you’ve been with the wrong men.”
She reached out and grabbed her sweet tea, put it to her wrinkly lips and took a swallow. “Back in my day, some could get it goin’ while others were flounders. You got yourself a good man?”
I did, but it was casual. No promises. No expectations. Easy. Simple. Controlled. Just the way I liked things.
“Nothing solid.”
Her head shook. “A woman that looks like you. Acts like you. No way you don’t have men bustin’ down your door.”
A chuckle escaped as I nodded to my house. “See. Nobody’s bustin’ down anything. Anyway, men aren’t my thing.”
Ms. M’s eyes widened. “You mean to tell me you’re a lesbian?”
Luna took that moment to come under my feet and handed me an old tennis ball. I knelt, mostly from laughter, but also to pick up the ball. I tossed it out into the grass, and Luna took off chasing it.
“Not that I know of, but I’ve never tried it.” I shrugged because I wasn’t the kind of woman to knock it until I tried it, but I wasn’t seeking that out either.
“That’s a shame,” she responded, making me pause a second and tilt my head.
“You have?”
Her smile widened, and her long red-tipped nails ticked on the table. “When I was young. Experimentation, they called it. But I loved her for many years. Then I fell in love with my husband and back then, that was what women did. They married men and had families.” She reached for her glass and took another swallow. “Don’t get me wrong. I loved my Jack until his dying breath, but there was always a special place for her.”
“You gonna tell me who it was?”
Truth be told, I could find out with the click of a few buttons on my keyboard, but having her tell me meant more.
Her head shook. “Nope. And don’t you go lookin’ on one of them computer things. Swear those things should’ve never been invented. People trackin’ your every movement… Back in my day, you wanted to steal somethin’, you went and did it. If the owner didn’t catch ya, there weren’t no cameras to tattle on ya.”
“True, Ms. M. So very true.”
People these days had digital footprints everywhere. Nothing was hidden. There was always a way to find out what you needed. Each step led you to somewhere else until what you were looking for was in the palm of your hand.
“Now, you gonna throw those things some more?”
“Nope. I’m done. I have work to do.”
She twisted in her seat. “Then I’m gonna go in and get out of this heat.” I rose then helped her as she batted my hands away from her. “Stop that! I don’t need no help!”
Lifting my hands in surrender, I said, “I know, I know. You’re perfectly fine doing everything. But your driving is a bit rough, Ms. M. Saw the new dents. Kenny’s gonna be fit to be tied when he sees them.” Kenny was her grandson and also the sheriff of Rebellion.
She turned to me. “I did no such thing. Those were there before. And Kenny knows better than to get on his grams case about a few scratches on a car. My boys know to hold onto things that matter and otherwise not sweat the small stuff. Them scratches have been there, and we’re just gonna say that my old Caddy has character, child.”
Arguing with her was futile. She loved getting into battles of the mind, saying it kept her young. Me, I just thought she liked arguing, period. She had a steady social life full of her two grandsons and their friends. The whole town of Rebellion loved Ms. M, me and Luna included.
“On that note, I’m out.”
Instead of holding the door open for her as she walked in, I took off down the steps and into my yard, going to my wooden ass.
5
Hayden
Pulling out the knives, I talked to Luna. “How ya doin’, girl?”
She let out a little whine. Luna loved to run. Full out. Full throttle. It was why I took her to the local park often. It was wide and open for her to run and play, but today we couldn’t go.
One yank of the last knife, I responded, “I know. Not today. I have work to do, and if my client doesn’t get her shit, she’ll be on my ass about it.”
Luna whined once more as we walked into the house. I slid the sliding glass door behind me, then pushed the code for the alarm. Then reset it and locked the doors. One could never be too careful these days.
Home. It had always been a foreign word to me. Something coveted. So close, yet so far away. There, but never close enough to grasp on to. Almost a figment of my imagination.
Most would think the word meant having a roof over your head. Somewhere that would keep you dry from the elements.
That just wasn’t true.
Home to me was safety and security. A place where I could close my eyes and be given a small reprieve from the uncertainty of life and know not one person would come at me. It could be under a bridge or in an actual structure with doors and windows that locked. It didn’t have to be a house.
Safety was the ultimate goal. Always the goal. It was something I never had as a child, and something I would always have for the rest of my life—no matter the cost.
I made this place a home, and it was perfect for me. A ranch-style house built in the nineteen-fifties made of solid brick,
sturdy and strong. Replacing the windows was a must and the first improvement made to the place.
Over time, plants and shrubbery were added along with a sidewalk that went from the front door all the way to connect with the one by the street. The neighborhood around me was safe.
Growing up how I did and learning what areas of Rebellion, Alabama to stay away from, I made sure not to be in any of those places.
The three bedroom, two bath home was the perfect size.
The house needed serious updating when I bought it which was why I got it for a steal. Flooring, paint, trim refinishing, new bathroom and kitchen fixtures, including a sink, was all completed by me. YouTube was the best teacher. Old episodes of This Old House helped tremendously. I was able to put in the new kitchen sink and not have one plumbing leak. The tube wasn’t just for disguising one’s face.
I owned this home outright, and for a girl who grew up on the streets that in and of itself was a luxury. It was all I wanted growing up. Somewhere to sleep that was safe and secure. This little piece of life that no one could take from me. A place where I didn’t have to watch my back every second of the day because someone wanted to hurt me or take something that I had. Every day a battle. I just needed peace.
For the first few months, I didn’t have any furniture. No bed and the appliances were so out of date only the fridge worked, sometimes. It was just a shell of a place that I knew could be made into a home.
When I went to buy everything needed for the home, I was sure the salesman thought I was gawking like a felon just released from prison and given a winning lottery ticket.
Everything was new and clean. After crawling up from the filth of my life, everything was officially clean like the dirt was all left behind in another life.
Nothing was flashy, but everything was comfortable.
If I wanted to curl up on the fluffy L-shaped couch with a blanket and watch television or a movie, it was there for the taking. The life I’d built was for me and me only. Well, and Luna too.
Everyone deserved their piece of happy.
This was mine.
Luna raced over to her water bowl, lapping up some much-needed refreshments. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, making my way down the hallway and shuffling through my keys once again.
Unlocking the door’s two deadbolts, the smell of Pin Sol hit me. Loved that smell. This room held everything inside that earned me money to live the life I had now. Nothing was going to fuck that up. It took me years to get here, and every damn day I’d fight to keep it.
Giving out a whistle, Luna came down the hallway and into the room. Closing the door, I locked it up and set the keys on the desk.
There were two banks of three computers each across the wall and one on the left side that sat on the desk itself. Each screen had something different on them. To the normal eye, anyone coming in would have no clue what was on each of them, but to me, I knew it all. Knew its purpose and the power it put in my hands. After so many years of not having any power, inside these walls, I had it tenfold.
My haven. I was the master pulling the strings of life, plain and simple.
I remembered the first computer I got my hands on.
* * *
“How does it work?” I asked Rocco as he set the large boxed computer down on the ground. It appeared heavy by the strain in his arms. His wide smile was contagious.
No matter how down we’d been over the years, his smile made things better, even if they were horrible.
“The wave of the future.”
“Huh?” I asked as he started plugging wires into one another. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Nope!”
That made me chuckle as I watched him try to match the different cords with their sockets. We’d found this place a couple of months ago and had lived here since. It used to be an old train car, but now it was empty besides our meager belongings.
It was one of the best places we’d found so far. Safe, at least as safe as it could be while living on the streets. There was always a threat, and that was why Rocco had a bat by the opening. Another reason the place worked was because we were able to get power. That was something so very hard to get, but Rocco managed to tap into a line.
It wasn’t much, but it was our home. He was the only person I trusted. The only person I could count on. Here, we were safe, but now he was bringing us treasures.
“I’m not sure if it works, but let’s give it a shot.”
* * *
We worked on that thing for hours trying to get it to work. When it finally did, it made me curious to know more about them. That was when I learned them from the inside out. We had no internet connection, but I knew the mechanicals, and it grew from there.
Luna took to her dog bed and laid her head down. Today wore her out.
Sitting, the chair started to roll, but I was able to stop it by putting my feet down. On the left screen on the desk, a message chimed.
Hand on the mouse, I clicked and pulled up the bottom middle screen with a private message. The name was Wonder Woman. Alias much? My client was always paranoid even though time after time, I told her that no one could break through my privacy walls. Fuck, the FBI or The Pentagon couldn’t. That was the dark web, but still, that kind of screen name was complete bullshit because Wonder Woman wouldn’t need to hire me. Whatever though, every message was a billable hour.
She never believed me about my set up, but that was just costing her more money, not me. Never knew how she ran her own company with being such a worrier all the damn time. She probably had regular ulcers.
Update. Was scrawled out in the box. She wasn’t one for minced words either. That was something I respected about her.
I began to type, Status quo. Bird flies next week. It was one thing I hated, the damn vague code words she wanted me to use. It was stupid as fuck. If we were on a public server and had no control over who saw what, I would understand. But this shit was just bringing paranoia to another level.
I coded everything myself step by step, not skimping on anything. But she paid good, and that was the bottom line of everything.
Money. It was the root of all evil in this world. Too little, you starve. Too much, you think you’re invincible. Lucky for me I was the latter, but had a good head on my shoulders where the money didn’t run me. For me, it was keeping it for a rainy day. One never knew when the rug would be pulled out from under your feet and send you spiraling down. I wasn’t going down. Ever. Therefore, I had a few nest eggs, just in case.
Earlier? she replied. Her patience was that of a gnat as well.
The program she wanted me to make had all kinds of stupid shit in it for her to track her employees. A lot of it was completely illegal, at least the stuff when the people were not at work, and their family lives, but whatever. She would pay and get it sent to her in a cryptic file that had zero digital footprint of me on it.
Win-win.
Nope. Bird needs to learn, I responded feeling like a fucking moron. She had a thing for birds. Me, I hated them. Living under an interstate with pigeons everywhere turns a woman off to the feathered beasts.
Later, she responded, and the chat window closed.
“Goodbye to you too,” I muttered, swinging to the top left computer and checking out the scan. Numbers, letters, and symbols flashed before me. This job, for another client, would take a few days to complete. Even with high speed, the system the information was being pulled from was massive. There were so many hoops to jump through and conquer.
It was time to get down to creating the code for Ms. Wonder Woman, one symbol at a time.
6
Wrong Way
Bottle up, I took a slug of beer, feeling the coldness down my throat. Overindulgence wasn’t my thing, but a few beers here and there I could do, and with the last couple of weeks, I needed them.
It was a personal choice, one that my grams helped with. Being an out of control teenager, booze and drugs were all I could think
about. It became a problem for me.
The booze.
Grams got me sorted out, but I never forgot being out of control, a feeling I never wanted again. It was hard to call myself a recovering alcoholic because I was so young. But in a way I was.
Therefore, a few beers, but I stayed away from the hard shit. Now, it was for pleasure, not a way to check out.
The club was abuzz tonight, everyone in the mood to let loose a little from the chaos. The music was loud, booze aplenty, and women everywhere.
A hard hand slapped on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Nice of ya to join us,” Crow said, sitting in the chair next to me. We were in the bar area of the clubhouse that had circle tables and chairs. It was where we had most of the parties, but they normally spilled throughout the clubhouse by the end of the night.
“Yeah,” I replied, taking another pull and blinking a few times. All the screen time was kicking my ass.
Everyone in the club knew the long hours I was putting in to get our shit secure once more. Everything had to be restructured and aligned. It wasn’t a small job by any stretch of the imagination. Not only time consuming, but it was a mindfuck. When doing many different things at once, all the letters, numbers, and symbols seemed to melt together.
Fuck, I was seeing it in my sleep.
But I did it because I loved this club and would protect it until my dying breath. Painful eyes, fatigue, lack of pretty much everything didn’t bother me because it was for my brothers, my club.
“Know shit’s hard right now, brother. I’m gonna call for church and get Ethan and Jimmy patched in.” Jimmy was another prospect. He wasn’t as knowledgeable about computers as Ethan. Still though, the man had integrity, commitment, and was fearless.
I was Ethan’s handler, meaning I kept him in line and made sure he was doing the shit he needed to. In playing that role, I was one hundred percent sure he was ready to become a Ravage member.