by Anne Tenino
“Oh. I suppose that would be us.” Matt had half been expecting this. Really, they’d had more time here than he’d hoped.
James packed quickly for them while Pearl fixed Matt up for hard travel. He’d have to have the dressing opened up once he was out of Idaho, but for the time being his shoulder was all but bomb-proof.
“Can you make me a ballistics suit out of that?”
Carmella hooted, but Pearl seemed to find his humor out of place.
“C’mon, Pearl!” Carmella cried, slapping Pearl on the back so hard Matt had to catch her shoulder to keep her from pitching over the side of the bed. “If you can’t find humor in life-or-death situations, when can you find it?”
James was done long before Pearl was, and Matt thought he actually looked… antsy. Probably tired of shifting his weight by the door, he slipped out to see what was going on.
Pearl started readying injections. “I’m giving you an extra dose of time-release NSAIDs. Then James should again tomorrow evening when you head out. No more nano-menders, though.” She also gave him anti-bionanos, and a nutritive energy boost.
Matt sighed when it was all over. By then he could feel the blood pumping the adrenaline through his veins. He was in a state of hyperawareness. Not the kind he got in the middle of a fight, but the expectant, waiting kind.
This was when he felt the most like a secret agent, half-assed or not. When he was leaving unexpectedly, in the middle (fine—beginning, whatever) of the night, staying one step ahead of enemies, trying to reach that goal line where friends waited to grab him as he raced by, hell for leather.
It made him itchy inside. Made his body hum, excitement soaking into his tissue. Restless, ready to move. “Let’s go.” He got up off the bed before Pearl could finish looking over her handiwork. “It’s fine, Pearl, thank you.” Some impulse made him kiss her on the cheek. He turned to Carmella.
“Don’t touch me.” She was clearly serious about it.
Hands up in front of him, Matt denied he’d even been thinking about it. As they walked out the door, he felt like whooping with his freedom. Finally out of that fucking room—although the fucking had been nice—and headed home.
The trip to the kitchens was sedate as hell. James seemed to vibrate with energy, and Matt thought it was almost killing him to fake the pleasant nighttime stroll. Matt kept one hand wrapped around his forearm to keep him steady. And wondered if it worked.
Before they got there, they had a clear view of the entry courtyard, and some decrepit old nun pulling the faux-aged wood door back, wide open. Three militia members rode in on personal skimmers. Matt felt more than saw James’s attention strung taut. No one paused in their sedate walk.
“Ha!” Carmella exclaimed quietly. “Could go try and distract those boys a bit, but Sister Mary Dementia is the best stall we could hope for.”
“Who’s Sister Mary Dementia?”
“The crazy old bat who answers the door,” James answered him. Matt looked at him in surprise. “Met her earlier.” James rolled his eyes.
Matt was sure there was a story there. He made a mental note to ask about it later.
Carmella led them in to the kitchen, and then into a huge pantry area, which had moveable shelves for food storage. The last shelf was immobile, flush against the wall, until Carmella tripped a lock up high on the unit, hidden above the top. It swung open, revealing a bolt-hole.
Benigna was waiting inside. Her habit and wimple were missing, replaced by all-weathers and boots. “Hi!” She smiled brightly at Matt and James.
Matt just barely kept himself from groaning. Shit. He’d forgotten all about her. Suddenly he wasn’t anticipating the trip so much.
“MACHO, high-handed prick,” Matt muttered as James slipped out of the bolt-hole and left him in there.
“Why’s he going?” Benigna whispered. Loudly.
Left him in there with Benigna. Fuck, who cared about their physical safety? His mental health was at stake here. “Benigna, what did I say—”
“Call me Beni. I’m Beni, now,” she insisted for the nth time that night.
“Whispers carry!” Matt whispered vehemently.
“Then why are you whispering?” she asked him in a very low voice. She almost had the subvocalizing figured out.
He was gonna fucking kill her. “Just shut up,” he muttered. She leaned sulkily against the wall. But she shut up.
Fucking James had left. To protect them. Did he think Matt was incapable of protecting himself? If the guys searching the kitchen with chip-radiation sensors did find them hiding behind this wall, he’d kick ass if he had to. His martial arts instructor was a fucking ninja. Or whatever the Chinese equivalent was.
Benigna might be a liability, granted. Maybe she could just talk them into a stupor. She’d nearly done it to them before they’d convinced her to shut the hell up.
Matt turned his mind back to James. James leaving them because it was the best way to protect them. Okay, he may be right, but that was beside the point. Yes, the militia was hoping to pick up the trace radiation signal from James’s Red chip. Yes, James couldn’t—they both thought—affect the radiation signature with his mind. But James had argued that he might be able to affect how their sensors functioned. And if he couldn’t, he could jump the soldiers first if he wasn’t trapped behind this wall.
“Fucking macho, high-handed prick.”
“I think he’s being manly and protective.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Matt thought over the “protective” comment. “Protective of what?” Him?
“The fairer sex. The damsel in distress.”
It took Matt a second to realize she probably didn’t think he was the damsel. Or the fairer sex. “You?”
“Well, he’s not being protective of you.” Benigna stuck out a pouty lip.
“If he’s being protective of you, then what am I doing here?”
She looked at him like he was simple-minded. “You’re protecting me if they find me. You’re the last line of defense. My God, do I have to tell you how to fight them too?”
Her voice was getting louder as she got her rant on. As Matt stared at her, she took a deep breath, as if in preparation to go on at length. He slapped a hand over her mouth. “I think they’re searching the shelves now.” He looked out the peephole. She’d never know they’d moved into the dining hall; she couldn’t see anything. Matt removed his hand, blocking the peephole to keep her from checking.
Jesus, James was right. She did have a twisted little mind. Someone had read her one too many fairy tales.
He heard one of their sensors beeping, suddenly. “Sarge, I think I—” The shout was cut off with the smack of something hitting flesh. Shit, he was so outta here. Matt hit the latch that opened the bolt-hole and stepped out.
“What?” shrieked Benigna. He rolled his eyes. A shriek wasn’t helping anything. He glared at her. It had no visible effect.
“Stay here, and be quiet. I’ll be back,” he ordered in his best imitation of Lance’s command voice. Then he took a step outside the door. She stayed put, hands on hips, but quiet.
Huh. It worked. Matt left his pack and grabbed his pistol, shutting Benigna inside.
JAMES was getting his ass kicked. This guy must have some serious martial arts training. He fought like he’d been professional MMA. Extensive SF hand-to-hand training?
The first guy had gone down without a sound, but this guy’s chip sensor had warned him. And there was a third person, hiding out. Why they didn’t join the fight was beyond him. Probably because he was having his ass handed to him.
He’d been doing all right, holding his own, but then he’d heard Benigna shriek, and his distraction had cost him. He could feel his left eye swelling shut, and he was mostly focused on the fight, but an alarmingly large part of his mind was worried about what might be happening with Matt and the nun.
In spite of being on the short side of average, James had a few centimeters and a dozen kilos or so on this g
uy. His opponent was whip thin, flexible as hell, and had reflexes that didn’t quite seem within the range of human. James wracked his brain, but nope, he was still sure genetic engineering of humans was illegal in Red states.
He took three shots in quick succession, two to the face and a kick in the kidneys, and it was all over for him. Except the guy took a head shot. From a laser DEW, judging by the way his head sorta just… cauterized his brain.
Blinking and swaying on his feet, James looked over toward where the laser must have come from. Matt stood up from beside an old gas cooktop and walked over to James, a little unsteady.
“Thought that was gonna end a little differently,” James slurred slightly, leaning on Matt. Heavily.
“Me too.” Matt rested his forehead against James’s and looked in his eyes. “Glad you aren’t dead.” Matt tilted just a little to kiss him.
God he felt good, warm lips careful with James’s swollen one. He could feel a slight tremble in Matt’s lips, in his whole body. James kissed him back, slipping his arms around Matt’s waist. Matt snuggled into James a little, like he needed some comfort.
Why would Matt need comfort? From killing that guy? He must have killed in battle before. But maybe not so close up. And he had to have taken care of the third person.
Wait, what had happened with the third guy? James leaned back a little, trying to bring his brain back on line to ask Matt. But his mind was already niggling at him—someone else was in the room, watching them.
That someone gasped, and James had Matt behind him in a split second, pistol in hand. He had to close one eye to focus, admittedly, but he was protecting Matt just like Matt had him.
It was Benigna. “You… you kissed him!” She pointed a shaking finger at them, mouth open in affronted horror.
“Does she practice this shit in a mirror?” Matt muttered behind him. “Come off it, Benigna. You already knew we were fags.”
Her mouth snapped shut, her hands flew to her hips, and her eyes blazed. “I’m the damsel! Me! I’m the damsel, dammit! Not you! Or you! And I told you enough times already—call me Beni!”
Matt’s view was partially blocked by James, and James was dazed and distracted by Benig—Beni. That’s how the third soldier was able to grab her so easily and press that DEW against her head.
“Now she’s the damsel,” Matt said quietly in his ear.
Chapter 18
THIS was when Carmella walked in, ready to pitch a fit over how long the soldiers had been in her kitchen.
The third soldier didn’t seem particularly experienced. She whipped her head around when Carmella walked in, giving Beni a chance to turn her head and bite the hand that held the pistol. Which led to lots of shrieking—Beni’s and the soldier’s.
“Th’fuck?” Carmella barked. “Shut the hell up, Maligna!”
James was already on the move toward the woman holding Beni hostage (well, that was arguable at this point), and had her down and out cold in seconds. “You got cuffs?” he asked Matt. He had a knee in the woman’s back and her arms twisted up behind her.
Matt handed over the flexies. James cuffed her and then opened a walk-in cooling unit and dragged out the first soldier he’d taken down, also flexi-cuffed and out cold (ha!).
Carmella flipped over the woman James had taken down. James snorted. “It’s Kandy Melore. My ‘caseworker’ in Boise.”
“Oh. Then that means….” Shit.
“No,” James said quickly. “They didn’t know we were here. She was as surprised as I was. I could feel it the whole time. It was dumb luck.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Carmella muttered.
Beni gasped in shock. Then she looked thoughtful. “Yeah,” she said wonderingly. “Jesus fucking Christ!” She started jumping up and down and clapping her hands.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Matt muttered, staring at her.
Carmella just rolled her eyes. “Can it, Maligna,” she barked. The jumping and clapping stopped immediately.
“What the hell was she doing out of her office? Is she militia?”
James thought about it a minute. Then he bent down and removed her vest, searching Kandy for ID. “Nope,” he answered when he came up with her card. “Says here she’s RIA admin. I got the impression she forced her way in on this. I bet they sent her here because they never thought we’d be here. That would explain the gleeful feeling she was projecting.”
“I thought you said she was surprised.”
“Yeah. Surprised, shocked, terrified, and gleeful. Think that about covers it.”
Everyone was silent for a few seconds. Until James pointed out they needed to get moving.
“You’re going to have to cuff me, too, and leave me here,” Carmella pointed out. “Otherwise they’ll think I’m a collaborator. Pearl’s on her way, I won’t be stuck long. It’ll give her a kick to ‘rescue’ me.”
Clearly, it was necessary. But James looked like he’d rather eat a laser pistol. Matt shrugged. “I’ll do it. I can just pretend you’re Anais.” Carmella chuckled.
“Maybe since I’m a weak old nun, you could cuff me to a chair. No, not that one, the one with the cushion,” she snapped when Matt grabbed a counter stool. “James, take the NSAIDs in the medi-kit before you can’t see out of that eye. Not so tight!” she complained to Matt as he brought her arms around behind the chair.
Yep, just like Anais. He cuffed her to the chair while James went and grabbed their packs. Beni obviously hadn’t packed for herself, judging by how light her pack looked.
“All right, get going. I’ll update Pearl. She’s going to have to pretend you tricked her, somehow. I don’t think that woman’s down for long, so get a move on.” Matt looked back at Carmella, and got a goodbye wink from her. He smiled. He had to admit he liked her quite a bit.
So, that left James, Matt, and Beni crouched by the side gate when they heard Pearl shriek. James had the distracted gate guard out cold in seconds, and they were outta there.
James had to help Beni with the NV lenses. Matt could see the sense in giving her some, too, and was thankful Pearl and Carmella thought to include some. He was just too disgusted with her earlier histrionics to care if she had them in.
She was quiet, though. At least, she didn’t speak. She still sounded like a bull moose coming through the brush. Apparently they didn’t give woodcraft badges out in the convent.
When they got to the gas station, Matt could tell something was off. James scoped it out for a minute too long from the brushy ditch. Then suddenly he stood up, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and whistled.
Th’fuck?
From the small copse of trees a little west of the station, a large shadow detached itself and started trotting toward them.
It was Miz.
It was appalling how happy Matt was to see her. And not just so she could carry their stuff. James was actually hugging her around her neck while she bobbed her head enthusiastically. James got hit a couple of times, but he didn’t seem to mind.
He turned to Matt and gave a huge smile, one hand on her withers. James reached out and pulled Matt to him, and they stood there in a little circle. It felt disconcertingly like… a family reunion. Matt turned away from James’s bright smile and looked at Miz in something akin to horror. Was she their… child?
Miz nipped him. Hard. While snorting horse mucus all over him. Damn thing couldn’t even blow her own damn nose. Would she ever grow up?
James squeezed him, and even though he was covered in horse mucus and thought the situation was ridiculously—surreal?—he squeezed back. Because Matt didn’t think many things had the power to make James this happy right now. Just happy, no other crap messing it up. Matt would do a lot to give him more of that.
“What in the hell is that?” Beni’s voice was thin and shaky.
Oh, Jesus.
“’S’a horse,” James said, mystified.
“But what’s it doing here?”
“She’s meeting us.” Subtle emphasis on �
�she.”
Beni was a city girl, it appeared. She knew nothing about horses. “You’ve lived in a convent in the middle of nowhere for almost ten years. How can you know nothing about living in the country?” Matt couldn’t believe her.
“I didn’t go outside. Not unless someone made me.”
“What the hell did you do?”
Beni blushed, or at least her face got darker. It was hard to tell with the NV lenses what actual color she was. She mumbled something.
“What?”
Hands on hips. “I said, ‘I tried to get around the netminder and download erotica.’ And I snooped around, I guess.”
Even Miz was staring at her. She made a pretty strange nun.
“Guess we’d better call in,” James said after a short silence. Beni flounced to the wall of the abandoned gas station and leaned against it, doing her best “disaffected youth.”
They were a bit late on call-in; it was almost 0000. Lance answered on the first ring. “About fucking time,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, we had to bug out unexpectedly. We’re heading for the dam tonight.”
“I don’t think I can up the rendezvous.”
“Don’t; we can’t promise we’ll make it any earlier.” Matt gave him a rundown on the situation. Once Lance was done being his boss, he became Grampa, and started telling him to be careful and yadda, yadda. Matt passed off the handset to James with relief.
It was short-lived. Lance was updating James on his military status. They were talking about the conditions of discharge, Matt finally figured out.
“Yeah, I can handle the medical. I can make myself available.”
Available for what? “James, tell me.” James ignored him. He grabbed the phone from him. James stood there a second, gaping at his empty hand, then tried to grab it back, but Matt was prepared for that.
“—they’ll expect you to be available to be poked at by their R&D guys for God knows how long,” Lance was saying.
“Tell them no deal.” There was no fucking way Matt was putting up with that.