At least I won’t have to spend all night filling out paperwork when the fool dies.
He looped the tension ropes in his hand and pulled his knife, standing ready to cut them if a meat-eater leaped from the water and snagged the lines. By cutting the lines, Logan could save the windcatcher, but the idiot would go down for a final dunk.
***
Alisha watched with growing anger as the man gathered up the tension ropes and pulled them tight. She could see he had looped the ropes so he could cut them away with a second’s notice. She waited for the anticipated yank that would send her harness flying into the river. She was certain he hadn’t seen her step out of it. He’d been too far away.
She couldn’t hear him over the river’s roar, but she saw him pointing to the footbridge. Was it possible he wanted to help? Hesitantly, she walked toward the bridge, keeping a firm grip on the harness, holding it tight against her chest so he wouldn’t know she wasn’t wearing it. She needed to know if he were friend or foe before she got within knife’s reach of him.
***
When the flyer crossed the walking bridge, Logan realized he’d made two mistakes: first, the flyer only hugged the harness to his chest; and second, the flyer wasn’t a “he”. The flyer was most definitely a young woman, with long, dark hair falling from her ponytail. While she was small enough to be mistaken for a kid, his reaction to her said she was a woman. Just her approach made Logan’s body feel stirrings that he hadn’t experienced in years.
Great. First woman I’ve been attracted to in a decade, and more than likely I’ll have to arrest her.
“That was a near dunk,” Logan said as he handed her the uncut tether lines. Replacing his knife in his pocket, he stepped to one side of the windcatcher and helped her fold it. “I hadn’t seen you take off the harness, and from the way you were carrying it, I feared you remained in it. I’d planned to give you one hell of a lecture about river safety, but I see that’s unnecessary. May I ask why you made it appear you still wore the harness?”
“I couldn’t see your uniform. I thought it best to discover if you intended me harm before I crossed over.”
Logan nodded. “Unfortunately, such caution is prudent these days. Scavengers are multiplying like rats.”
The young woman thanked Logan for his assistance and packed her windcatcher. Her attention to the gear impressed him. She had to be hurting from the crash, but she still took the time to properly fold the thirty-five square feet of strong nylon mesh and neatly place it into her backpack.
Pain crossed her face as she leaned over to pick up her gear.
“I’ll get that for you,” he said, securing it with one arm and slipping it onto his back. “We’ve got a storm coming in from the east, so you’ll be down for at least ten hours. I can offer you a shower, a hot meal, and a place to sleep for the night.”
***
As good as a shower and hot meal sounded, Alisha wanted to decline. She would’ve turned him down, except she knew if she did, the request would be restated as an order. And if she continued to resist, then she’d be arrested. Cursing her bad luck, she followed him across the footbridge.
“My name is Logan, by the way,” he said.
Alisha didn’t reply. She didn’t think his comment required one. He was clearly a colonel of the SkyRyders. That made him the most powerful man in Broadtown. There wasn’t a thing he couldn’t do to her. He could beat, rape, or kill her in front of a thousand witnesses, and no one would blink an eye.
Rather than declaring his power, he evidently preferred to cover his threats with a polite veneer. While Alisha appreciated his subtlety, it in no way made her less afraid of him. In fact, its effect was just the opposite.
“And your name?” the colonel asked as they left the grassy field that bordered the river and headed through the main street of Broadtown. “Alisha Kane,” she said, fearing he would next ask to see her special license.
“Where are you from, Alisha?” His voice remained casual and friendly.
“Until recently, Flatland.”
“Really? That’s a place I’ve never wanted to visit. Is it as windless as they say?”
“Not even a faint breeze.”
The colonel shook his head in disgust at such a thought. “So where do you live now?”
“I’ve got a place in Doakstown.”
“Doakstown?” the colonel repeated in surprise. “Why would you live there?”
“It’s cheap.”
“As long as you don’t include the value of your life in the equation.”
Alisha couldn’t argue with his assessment of Doakstown. She suspected she was the only citizen who hadn’t murdered someone. The only reason no one bothered her was because they never saw her arrive at night and she was always gone before dawn. Nor did she leave anything in the hole in the wall she rented, knowing all too well someone would take it.
Chapter 3
When they reached the Ryders’ compound, the colonel placed his palm on the security panel, and the gate automatically opened. He stepped back so she could walk through first.
Alisha hesitated, knowing this was her last chance to escape. Once she entered the compound, she’d be at his mercy. She would’ve tried to run, except for the windcatcher securely resting on the colonel’s shoulder. She couldn’t leave without it. Flying was her only means of making money, and she desperately needed serious money.
Feeling far more trepidation than she’d experienced when flying the Cully, she stepped inside the compound.
***
Logan sensed the girl wanted to bolt from the way she eyed the street before entering the fort. He wasn’t concerned, he’d have caught her within twenty feet. Still, he appreciated her compliance. Had she run, he would have had to set aside the niceties and arrest her on the spot.
Given her nervousness, he placed his hand on her arm and led her across the courtyard to the entrance of his private quarters. While he could have led her through the station, he preferred to interrogate her without his crew’s interference.
Upon placing his palm on the security panel, the door opened. This time her hesitation to enter wasn’t so obvious, but given the fear in her eyes, she expected death or worse. Based on the tension in her body when she eyed the bed, he figured out what she considered worse than death.
That she thought he planned to rape her pissed him off.
“The shower’s in there.” He pointed to the bathroom door. “Feel free to use the soap and shampoo. If you’ll toss out your garments, I’ll put them in the washer. I’ll be out with my crew in the commons for about a half-hour. You’ll find a robe behind the door. We can talk after your shower.”
The look of surprise on her face gave him some sense of satisfaction. She entered the bathroom, and a few moments later, the door opened a crack and she handed out her flysuit. Logan took the mud-coated suit, gathered one of his own flysuits to disguise the bundle, and left his room, making certain the door locked behind him.
As he placed the clothes in the washer, his second-in-command, DC, called out to him. “Colonel, you gotta see this video that Philly’s taken.”
“That depends…what’s on it?” Logan asked as he poured soap over the clothes. If it was another video of DC’s sexual prowess, he could go a lifetime without seeing it.
“It’s Philly’s Flying Fairy, the one he’s been telling us about. For the last week, he’s sworn a flyer runs the Cully Canyon every night, doing these incredible maneuvers.”
“And no one believed me,” Philly said.
“And no one believed him,” DC admitted.
“ButI’ve got video now—high-grade infrared. You can see her as clear as day.”
Logan wanted to see the film very much. He stood behind Philly and nodded for the young man to activate the video. “Where did you shoot this from?”
“Right before Cully’s Knee.”
Logan frowned, having trouble accepting what he was seeing. He’d presumed the girl had flown over th
e canyon, which was dangerous but doable, but what he saw on this video was impossible. The girl traveled low between the narrow walls of the canyon, almost touching the water.
“Watch her make this bend,” Philly said with excitement.
If Logan didn’t know for a fact she was alive and in his shower, he would have bet a hundred bucks she would splatter against the rocks within the next few frames of the video. The canyon walls were too narrow. Instead, she popped up a hundred feet, where the canyon walls were wider, and turned her windcatcher on a dime, placing her safely in the middle of the rock walls.
Impossible! “Play that again,” Logan ordered.
“I will, but watch this first,” Philly insisted.
Logan blinked as he watched her catcher shoot upward again, this time lifting her over two thousand feet within a few seconds.
Philly laughed. “Mindblowing, right?”
“How can she do that, Colonel?” Ginnie, the newest addition to the crew, asked.
DC smacked her on the back of her head. “I think Philly’s digitally enhanced his video. What do you think, Colonel?”
Logan didn’t reply. He was too busy watching her amazing dive toward the bank when the wind unexpectedly disappeared. Given her initial location, she should have dunked. Collapsing her catcher and diving had saved her life, but how the hell had she known the exact second she needed to open the catcher? And how could she be certain it would open on command? Most flyers would have played it safe and floated to their death in the Cully.
“I can’t believe she survived that fall,” DC said.
“I swear she did,” Philly replied.
“Then why don’t we see her walking away?” asked Jersey, the other female in his crew.
“Because I stopped videotaping so I could run down to help her. Her legs were half over the river.”
“So where is she?” DC challenged.
“She was gone by the time I got down there.”
“Then she’s probably dead,” DC said. “She’s right over Patches’ favorite spot. One wiggle of her toes and he’d have pulled her under. Damn shame. I would have liked a chance to see how she’d modified her catcher. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Oh, it can’t be that a woman can fly,” Jersey challenged.
“You got that right. Given the same equipment, I’d out-fly her, just like I kick your whiny butt every day.”
Logan ignored their bickering and had Philly rerun the video several more times. “Send a copy to my PC,” he ordered, and walked to the kitchen area. “Any dinner left over?”
Ginnie spoke up. “There’s some sauce in the pot, but I’ll have to cook some more pasta. DC and Jersey were doing things you don’t even want to know about with the leftover pasta.”
Logan held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it because if I became aware of crew members wasting government rations, I would have to put the entire team on report.”
Logan heard something that sounded very much like a slap followed by a low and ominous warning from DC. He debated whether he should ignore the incident. He didn’t like his captain running roughshod over the crew, but frankly he didn’t have time to write up a disciplinary report just now. He had more important matters to handle.
“How long does this pasta take to cook?” he asked as he picked up the box and squinted at the tiny print. It had been over twenty years since he’d actually prepared a meal.
“I’ll do that for you, Colonel,” Ginnie offered, taking the box from his hand.
“Thanks,” he said, noticing her red cheek. Tomorrow, he’d have a serious discussion with DC about abuse of power. Right now, he needed to keep his mind focused on Alisha Kane. In all his years, he’d never seen a flyer with half her skill. The talent documented by Philly’s video would save him from the unpalatable task of arresting her. He had a more important task at hand now—to recruit her into the SkyRyders.
“You don’t have to stand here, sir. I’ll bring it to you when it’s done,” Ginnie said.
Logan lowered his voice so only Ginnie could hear. “Make me two heaping bowls. I feel extra hungry tonight.” Then he added in a normal voice, “Just bring it to my room when it’s done. Philly, have you forwarded the video yet?”
“Yes, sir,” Philly replied. “Colonel, do you think she died?”
“No, Philly, I imagine she’s in some shower washing off all that mud and slime.”
“Yeah, right,” DC scoffed. “And there’s a Santa Claus too.”
Chapter 4
When Alisha stepped into the steaming-hot shower, she felt as if she’d died in the Cully and gone straight to Heaven. Nothing, except for flying, gave her more pleasure than a hot shower. As the water pulsated against her sore, battered body, she tried to remember when she’d last bathed with something other than a washcloth and a bowl of cold water. Had to be the night before she’d crept out of her parents’ house and headed off to Capital.
Enjoying the hot water, she lost track of time. She’d planned to be out of the shower and dressed in whatever she could find before the colonel returned. The knock on the bathroom door alerted her to the impossibility of that plan now.
“You okay?” he asked, opening the door slightly.
“Yes… I’m sorry… I’ll be out in just a second.”
“Don’t rush. Take another ten minutes or so.”
Alisha thought the offer extraordinary, given the strict water rations. Ten minutes in a shower would be most people’s entire month’s allocation. But he’s a colonel of the SkyRyders, she reminded herself. Whatever he wants, he takes.
Despite the hot water, a chill ran down her spine. Maybe he ignored me before because I was covered in foul-smelling mud. He might still have a price for the shower.
Alisha turned off the water. She didn’t want to be beholden when the payment came due. If he planned to rape her, then it should clearly be such, and not an informal payment of services rendered.
She dried off and wrapped the large bath towel around her, caressing the thick, plush pile. It reminded her of home.
Voices spoke on the other side of the door, the colonel’s and a woman’s. So that was why he had told her to take her time. This other woman didn’t know he had company. Was the woman his wife, lover, or a casual encounter? SkyRyders had a reputation for living large. Her friend Denny had told her that just about the only place you wouldn’t find a SkyRyder “doing the dirty” was in the sky, and that was simply because you couldn’t get two windcatchers close enough to do it. Denny seemed to know everything about sex, despite his youthful age of fourteen.
***
After encouraging Alisha to remain longer in the shower, Logan sat down at his computer and reviewed Philly’s video in detail. Damn, but this girl could fly! In all his years, he had never seen such talent. The only time she looked as if she were about to lose control was when she used those slats to perform a nearly vertical two-thousand-foot climb. Since he would have sworn such a maneuver was impossible, “a little shaky” seemed most impressive.
Curious about the slats, he walked over to her pack and pulled one from its external sleeve. A simple construction, really: four feet long, six inches wide, with leather thongs to secure her boots. Yet this simple piece of equipment enabled her to push the limits on how close to the water she dared to go. Standard procedure recommended never getting within ten feet of water surfaces because the uncertainties of wind dynamics could drop you unexpectedly, and if a foot caught in the sand, rocks, or water… say goodbye. No one survived a hundred-miles-an-hour tumble.
Yet, this simple device solved the problem. Where had she bought it? He hadn’t seen any scavengers with them. God knew it would make his job harder if they had them. He studied the slats, wondering how hard they were to use.
A knock on the door brought him back from his musings. He replaced the slat in its sleeve and let Ginnie inside.
Noticing the two bowls of pasta in her hands, he nodded to his table. “Just set t
hem there.”
“You want any wine with it?” Ginnie asked as she looked around the room.
“No, that’ll be all.”
“Cheese? I could bring you some.”
“It looks great as is, Ginnie. Thanks for your timely intervention.”
“Want any company while you eat?”
“Thanks, but no. I’ll call you if I need anything else,” he said, and walked to the door, opening it so she could leave.
She left, albeit reluctantly. Surely she had heard the shower running.
Suddenly he realized the shower wasn’t running, nor had it been for some time. He opened the door, remembering the girl had taken one hell of a fall. She could be hurt.
She sat on the closed toilet seat, wrapped in his robe.
“You okay?”
“I heard voices and was waiting for the other person to leave.”
Logan was glad she had waited, but he still thought it odd behavior. Why would she try to hide?
“That was Ginnie, the youngest of my crew. She brought us dinner.”
Alisha’s stomach growled loudly in response to the enticing smell of spaghetti.
***
Alisha hoped the act of eating might enable her to avoid answering questions. Unfortunately, the colonel was not nearly as famished as she.
“One of my crew caught you on videotape this evening,” he said. “That was some impressive flying.”
“A video in the dark?” Alisha asked, careful not to admit anything.
“Infrared. The clarity is quite good. Would you like to see it after dinner?” His voice betrayed no threat or danger.
Alisha looked over at the computer. “I would. I think seeing a video of my flying would help me improve.” She stopped talking. She could tell by his expression that she had betrayed more than she’d meant with her comment.
“So exactly how long have you been living in Doakstown?”
“About a month.”
“Can you be a bit more precise?”
“No…” She concentrated on her food.
Scavenger's Mission (The SkyRyders Book 1) Page 2