by wade coleman
Getting in front of Kim, I push my bike up the ramp and past the men. Since my face is different than the one he has seen, the store owner doesn’t give me a second look, and I pass.
“Mommy, Mommy, I’m hungry,” Vike cries, while Kim fumbles for a protein bar.
The man from the shop looks at Kim, then turns away. After taking a few steps, the store owner says, “Wait, you-”
Kim pulls out her disposable plastic pistol and shoots the store owner in the face. Before the other men can react, she kills two more, and the third drops before taking three steps.
I pull up the spider-silk hood, get on my bike and put it in gear. Kim gets on her bike with Vike on the back and follows me down the ramp. The bar is down at the gate. Kim points the gun at the man in the booth, and he frantically scrambles to raise the bar across the bridge exit. We head southwest along the west side of the estuary.
I text Daniel with my military satellite phone. “Need a ride home, heading into the delta.”
After the thirty-year drought, the rains returned and broke all records and dams. The floods erased the old river course and made new ones.
The silt washed downstream was a boon to farming.
A lot of silt piled up on the east side of Frisco. The narrow straight that leads to San Pablo Bay backed up the rushing waters, and the dirt settled out. Now it’s a series of small silt islands with bamboo bridges.
I thought we might have a tough time getting out of Sludge City, which is why I had Natasha memorize the area when we flew overhead yesterday.
Taking the lead, I speak into the headset, “We’re going into a peach orchard. Just in case there is an eye in the sky.” Heading into a single lane dirt trail, I wish for my immersion helmet so that Natasha could check for drones.
We make for the cover of some trees up ahead and slow down.
“Darling, I think there is a drone coming.”
I stop and raise my arm, signaling Kim to stop. “How is that possible?”
“Our new nerves are made to conduct light, not electricity. However, they are slightly conductive, just enough to let me know that a broadcast is nearby. A drone is flying in a grid pattern, looking for us.”
Natasha appears in front of my bike, points to the east and displays a black triangle.
“Natasha, you never cease to amaze me.”
Kim gets off her bike. “What’s going on?”
I watch the black triangle get closer, “A drone.”
“How do you know?”
“A bird told him,” Vike replies.
I smile. “Her name is Natasha. Dad’s gonna send a sub. It will take us home. They’ll use my sat phone to home in on us. What we have to do is move into the delta where the water is deeper and wait.”
Soon, Daniel texts me back. “Hide in the willows by the channel, pick up at dark.”
We wait in the orchard until the drone moves away. Then we get on our bikes and ride east to the main channel. While driving through a rolling field of soybeans, Natasha says, “You need to find cover soon.”
Driving into tall reeds, we turn off our bikes. The whine of the drone’s motor passes overhead. After ditching the bikes in reeds, we walk towards the channel in ankle deep water. Vike leaves her shoes with the bikes, short-lived footwear for the girl.
Progressing closer to the channel, the water is now up to our knees. The three of us move through a thicket of genetically modified willows with roots that penetrate twenty feet into the silt and sand of the delta. Finding a weeping willow on a mound, we stop and let Vike catch her breath.
“Time for breakfast.”
Kim and I take off our packs and get out some protein bars. We casually chew on them while leaning against the willow, our feet just barely out of the water.
“I feel naked with my Mac-10,” Kim says.
“I miss my spider-silk vest. If I had half a brain, I would have stashed supplies.”
“There was no time.”
“Don’t worry,” Vike says and gives a thumbs up. “I have you covered.”
Kim turns to Vike, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What are you trying to say?”
“If I want, people don’t notice me. If you stand close to me, they won’t notice you.”
I smile, “I knew you were special when I saw you filling the bucket with water, your eyes being such a pretty shade of purple.”
Vike hides behind Kim and then peeks out at me.
Kim raises her hand. “Someone is coming.”
“Just sit down, they won’t bother to look here,” Vike says.
Kim and I look at each other, and I shrug. Kim sits first, then me.
Footsteps splashing in the water approach. With Vike in the center, we hold hands. Two men stop near us and have a smoke, standing on long legs, their knees bent backward. The smoke drifting our way is the smell of cigars laced with pot.
“So, why are we hunting down a family?” asks the mutant with olive green skin.
“Because we’re getting paid to,” the mutant with the sunglasses replies.
“Since they ditched their bikes, they’re probably heading for open water, waiting for a boat.” Both mutants put out their cigars in the palm of their hands, then put the butts in their vest pockets. They move away, splashing through the water, heading north.
“They didn’t even bother to look under the willow branches,” I say, surprised.
“They didn’t see the tree, just a small little bush on a mound,” Vike says.
Feeling a little more relaxed, I ask Kim, “What did you learn from Frog-face?”
“A Mathew Clark hired Frog-face to kill anyone who asks about the virus. He works for a law firm.”
“What about the virus?”
Kim swats a bug on her arm. “It left two days ago.”
“Damn, they’re being smart and moving it around.” Since my military satellite phone is encrypted, I text Dad, “Virus left Sludge City two days ago. We’re safe for now.”
“Darling, turn off the phone now.”
After turning off the phone, I take out the battery. “What’s going on?”
“The drone overhead is sending a signal that mimics the satellite signal.”
“What’s up?” Kim asks.
“The drone is trying to track our phone. We will stay here until dark, then head to the channel where we get a ride home. When the moon rises and the willows cast their shadows, I can take us anywhere along its boundaries.”
“Two hell rides in two days. I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I’m open to suggestions if you have any.”
Kim’s worried about me,” Vike says. “She thinks that shadow walking is going to change me like it’s changing her.”
“Kim, what’s going on?”
She picks a willow leaf and inspects it closely. “I wanted those two mutants to go away. I was thinking about the river…and a few minutes later…they left and headed in that direction.”
“Speaking from experience, the first dozen shadow walks are hard. I know it’s scary, but it gets easier.”
I take off my shoes and socks and hang them on a branch to dry. “The good news is, you can’t leave anything behind that belongs to you. The only thing you leave in the darkness is other peoples’ fears of who you are. It’s their limitations, not yours. You’re better off without them.”
I look up. Kim and Vike are staring at me.
“You know,” Kim says, “it would be easier to take you seriously if you stopped smelling your toes.”
I throw my head back to laugh, then stifle it, remembering where we are.
Soon, I nap under the tree while the girls take turns standing watch. The shadows are growing longer, I wake up hungry, craving fat and caffeine. Right now, I’d trade a gold coin for a coffee and a stick of real cow butter. Instead, I get a caffeine pill out of my vest and eat a protein bar.
After the three of us eat dinner, the sun sets, and I put on my dry shoes. Standing up, Natasha says the sky
is clear of drones, so I put the battery back in the phone and send a text to Dad, “On the move.”
“It feels clear,” Kim says. “It’s so quiet here, no telepathic noise like the thousands of minds in the city. My ability stretches farther; I don’t think there’s anyone around for a half mile.” Kim smiles. “Let’s skip the shadow walking and use our feet.”
“Are you sure?” I look down at my dry shoes. “In one second or less, I could find us a cottonwood tree overlooking the channel. Our feet will stay dry.”
Kim and Vike slip out from under the tree, and I follow. Kim is right, no one is around, not even a drone. The bounty hunters must have gone off searching somewhere else.
When the water gets deeper, Kim puts Vike on her shoulders.
“I can do that.”
“You need to move fast just in case I’m wrong, and someone is out here,” Kim says. “Besides, my shoulders are wider than yours.”
“Just barely,” I answer in mock defiance.
We make it to the open channel, the moon just above the water. We spot a river oak and move towards it. Standing in its shadow overlooking the open water, I can finally relax. I get a text from Daniel. “10 min.”
Soon, a mini-sub shows up. Kim and I pull it to the shore. The sub raises up, and Creepy Eyes opens the hatch, the mutant who gave us a ride home when we were running Mr. Fukui’s telepath.
He smiles. “So, it’s you two.” He looks at us, metal eyes with horizontal slits. The blue-green light reflects off the water. He lowers his head back through the hatch, and we follow him into the sub. It a good thing, too, because I’m tired of getting bit and swatting at mosquitoes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Back at Rick’s restaurant, I’m standing at the bar. The bartender pours me bourbon, the sound of cannon fire in the distance.
Bogart stands behind the bar with his drink. “Your people are creating all manner of mischief in my city.”
The sounds of the cannons grow louder.
Bogart downs his drink and pours another.
“You mean the mutants dying in LA are causing this?” I ask.
“What happened, kid?” Bogart asks.
“Some people want to kill mutants and replace them with their own creation.”
“Why?” he asks.
“To make more money.”
“Your people baffle me,” Bogart says.
“Yeah, some days, I wonder if the Purebloods are right. We are a separate species.”
I hear a shell whistle in, and I jump behind the bar. Bogart and I hunker down when an explosion goes off by the front door. Wood splinters and glass comes flying in.
While the dust settles around us, he says, “So, kid, you may want to wake up now.”
* * *
I get up at 3 PM with that uneasy feeling like I forgot something. Last night, Kim and I found out the virus left Sludge City. We got pinned down in the delta, but with the help of Vike, we got away without Kim killing any more mutants. Dad also helped. Colonel James and his band of merry men triangulated where we were pinned down. They arranged for three people on bikes dressed like us to be seen heading towards Frisco. The good news is we have a lead, a Mathew Clark, an attorney working for Kelly Law, arranged for the virus to be shipped out of Sludge City.
I head to the kitchen and Mom is there putting away the dishes. She points to the kitchen barstool. “Sit,” she commands, as though I’m a pet dog.
I comply, knowing better than to argue.
“I don’t like you buzzing around me like a hummingbird while I’m in the kitchen, Hermes.”
She pours me tea and puts a bowl of hard-boiled eggs and another empty bowl between us. “What’s this about you buying your Dad a present?”
“You mean the pickup,” I reply, peeling my first egg and eating it.
“You, Hermes Conrad, bought your father, Daniel Conrad, a gift.”
Dad and I don’t see eye to eye on most things. He didn’t like that I didn’t go to fight in the Colombia War, that I don’t like guns. I especially don’t like him barking orders at me. Our relationship for the last few years has been a bit strained. When we do interact, it’s mostly business.
“I stole eight million credits from Dr. Anderson. He got me a drone, so I bought him a pickup.”
“Hm…” and we continue to peel eggs. My mom knows my story is off, like fish left out in the sun too long. But the lie sounds convincing and Mom wants to, believe me, so she lets it go.
I change the subject. “Is Vike staying with Kim and Maggie?”
Mom smiles. “Yes.” Then she pats my cheek. “You brought home a child, so you and Kim can play house?”
I blush. “No, it wasn’t like that. Kim was going to kill her father. My way…there was no bloodshed.”
Mom messes my hair. “Sometimes…you can be very sweet.”
Mom and I get a text just seconds apart from Kim, saying to turn on the news. Ceres set up a makeshift wireless internet, so I turn on my tablet and pull up the LA Times. A reporter with a camera built into his glasses is in a downtown LA hospital.
The halls and rooms are filled with dying mutants coughing and drenched in sweat.
We listen to her report. “…thousands of people are sick. And yes, all of them are mutants,” the reporter says. She pans to a male elf’s face, his breath labored and filled with fluid. Right there on camera, he takes his last breath. “Do not take your sick to the hospital…there is simply no room…”
Mom turns off the tablet, goes outside and lights a cigarette while I wash the eggs. Later, I join her on the front porch with a pitcher of tea and two glasses. Pouring our drinks, I say, “With the no-fly zone over the city, they won’t be able to spread the virus by plane.”
She takes a puff, then letting it out slowly. “They’ll find another way.”
We sip our tea, and Mom finishes her cigarette. “Let’s think about something else. Tell me about Pam.”
“She’s a nurse at the Navy hospital. Her father is a navy captain.”
“That I know. How are you two getting along?”
I scratch my chin. “I like her,” I shrug. “One minute she’ll pour on the charm and the next she’s ice.”
Mom pours more tea. “Her world has lots of rules.”
“Yeah, and I was never much for rules.”
She takes a sip of tea. “Maybe that’s what she finds attractive about you.”
“I wonder what dating a normal girl would be like.” I ponder.
Bev gets up, walks behind me and pushes her thumb between my shoulder blades. She always knows when I’m tense and need a massage. “How many times did you cheat death this week, Hermes?”
“Mom, it’s not like that. I promise. I’m not in any real danger…honest.”
Beverly finds the other shoulder blade and pushes into a knot of muscles, which feels like a small rock in my back. The air goes out of me and my eyes refuse to focus.
Mom lets up on the pressure. “Son, you came home last night with a child you rescued from Sludge City, an extraordinary young girl you just happened to meet while on a mission to find a mutant-killing virus. Does that sound like what normal people do?”
“Not if you say it that way.”
She moves her fingers to another spot and digs in. “Does Pam know about your shadow walking?”
“No, I’m trying to introduce myself to her in small does and give her a chance to acclimate.”
“More like, build up an immunity.”
“Mom,” I whine, “you’re supposed to be on my side.”
Daniel opens the front door to his shop and motions for me to follow him. Once in the garage, I sit in my swivel chair with the wheels while Dad paces.
“We have a lead on Mathew Clark; he’s an attorney at the Kelly Law Firm. They’re an information laundering company. Companies route all communications to the law firm server. The police can’t get a search warrant because the information is protected by attorney-client privileges. It’s a
loophole the rich passed into the law – like they’re so fond of doing.”
“Is one of those clients Baron Enterprises?”
Daniel nods once. “Maybe you should pay Mr. Clark a visit.”
“Do you have a way in?”
* * *
I spend the rest of the day in a hammock out back. Dad wakes me an hour before sunset, and I head to the fridge.
“We gotta go now,” he says, his voice authoritative. Trying not to bristle, I get out a glass jar of Ghee kept for such emergencies, grab a spoon, fill my water bottle, and make for the door. He’s waiting for me in the truck.
Dad drives slow to give me time to eat. I take a teaspoon of Ghee and drink some water. “So, what am I doing now?”
“We have a way into South Frisco that puts you on the roof of Mathew Clark’s apartment.”
“Can’t I at least have some dinner first?”
He hands me a protein bar while driving. I chew and notice that we both have our elbows out the window. The air is cooling down from a hot summer day.
“Thanks for covering for me,” Daniel says.
I can’t remember the last time Dad said ‘thanks,’ so I shrug, “You did get me a drone, even if it was to case your jobs. Besides, now you owe me one.” I hold out my fist. We bump knuckles to seal the deal; it’s the closest to bonding we can manage.
Driving up, I spot a twin-engine Cessna parked on the paved section of road. Dad stops, and I get out and shut the door. “See you on the other side.”
“See you on the flip,” I say and he drives off.
Getting inside the Cessna, I notice the cabin is set up for parachute jumps. There’s a large door in the back, one long bench on each side of the plane. In the back, two dwarfs are sitting on the seats, talking to each other.
The lieutenant with azure blue eyes and hair greets me. We met the day I was shot into the air like a missile. “Hermes, so nice to see you.” She points to some clothes on the bench. “Why don’t you change while I brief you?”