Carla scowled at him. “Of course, we can catch up later.”
She stuck her chin out with determination. I will not be one of those pathetic women in love, not for him, not for anyone!
“See you later.” He guided Bex out of the club with him.
“Don’t count on it,” she muttered under her breath.
Isabella stepped out of the motel room looking like a different person. She wore men’s straight-leg trousers and a man’s shirt, which was cinched at the waist by a brown leather belt. The top three buttons of the shirt were unfastened, showing off her delicate collarbone and some cleavage. The shirt was untucked and the shirttails covered her ass. The gun was hidden in the waistband of the trousers, beneath the shirttails.
Her blonde hair felt clean as it bounced in a tangle of silky waves around her shoulders. She felt determined and ready to take on the world, no matter what it threw at her next.
She slipped on a pair of sunglasses that she’d found in the side pocket of the suitcase and scanned the area outside her room. It was empty. She walked to the car with a grim smile on her face.
She’d strapped the dagger to her leg underneath the trousers, and the knuckledusters were in her pockets. Everything else was in the case, which she now threw into the boot of the car, along with one of the motel duvets and some pillows and towels. She refused to be caught out unprepared ever again. She wasn’t going to cower in her room and wait for the bad people to find her. She was going home, and anyone who got in her way would regret it.
She slid behind the wheel of the car and turned on the radio, fiddling with it until she found some music to suit her outlaw mood. She started the engine and hauled ass out of the motel parking lot at high speed, leaving a trail of smoke behind her.
She pulled onto the main highway toward Maklaw and tried to form a plan of action. The jungle trees began to thin out on the roadside as she zoomed past the plains on the edges of Kalamar. The roads were dusty, and cacti and tropical trees dotted the barren landscape. The sun shone on the tarmac, making it appear to ripple in the distance.
She flipped on the air conditioning in the car as she passed a small town on the outskirts of Kalamar.
In about a hundred miles, she’d arrive at the Maklaw borders, and finally be out of Kalamar. When she got there, she’d need to call for help. But Bob was a Kalamarian. Would the Derobmi government instigate a search for him?
She narrowed her eyes. She had to try. Even if it was just their friends, she was certain she could gather a search party to find his remains. She had resources outside Kalamar that she could use, and she would.
She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. Nothing was going to stop her finding him this time.
The road dimmed when she passed through a heavily-wooded area with thick lines of trees shadowing the road. She took off the sunglasses and dropped them on the dashboard to give herself a better view of the road.
A black car came out of nowhere and headed straight for her.
She swerved violently to avoid the oncoming vehicle. She struggled with the steering wheel and lost control. Her car careered off the side of the road and into the thick jungle. She slammed on the brakes, but hit a tree trunk head-on before she could stop the car.
Around her, glass shattered and metal crunched as the car twisted on impact. She jerked forward, but the seatbelt held her safely in her place. Her head hit the windshield before the car finally stopped.
She touched her forehead. It was wet. Her hand had blood on it. She knew the seatbelt had just saved her life, but her chest ached where the thick strap had dug into her skin.
She unfastened the belt with shaky fingers and tried to open the driver’s door. It was stuck, bent inwards, and the window in it had shattered into small pieces of broken safety glass.
She leaned back onto the passenger seat and tried the door. It was also jammed shut, so she lay on her back across both seats with her feet near the driver’s door. She kicked at the door with all her strength. The door didn’t budge. It was twisted so badly it was jammed shut. So she kicked at the glass instead, using her booted foot to remove all the glass around the edges and create an opening she could crawl through to get out of the car.
Where the hell did that car come from? She crawled through the hole she’d just made in the window, and then she stepped onto the soft earth of the jungle and examined the car. It was almost wrapped around the tree. It was amazing she had survived the crash at all.
She sighed. Now what am I going to do?
She heard a woman roar before she felt the impact. Something heavy knocked her to the ground. She knew it was a person because they grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.
Hunters, she thought. She shoved her hand in her pocket and slipped her fingers through the knuckleduster. Then she braced her hands on the ground and pushed herself on all fours with the attacker still on her back. With a roar of anger, she reared upwards against the weight of the woman and then flipped sideways, throwing the attacker off her back.
She saw a weathered-looking orange woman hit the ground. The woman had rotten teeth and a crazy glint in her eyes. Her hair was dirty blonde and deep lines of age scarred the skin on her face. Who the hell is she?
The woman sprang up and ran over to attack her again.
Isabella scrambled to her feet and punched wildly at the woman with the knuckleduster on her fist. She hit the woman’s chin, and she went down hard on her back.
Isabella decided now was the time to get away. She ran toward the road, leaving the woman unconscious on the ground. She’s probably another hunter.
As she neared the roadside, she looked around cautiously. She pulled the gun out of the back of her trousers, and prepared for more hunters to attack. The black car that had driven her off the road was parked in a lay-by near her. There was no one in it. The rest of the road was deserted.
She waited a second then walked over to the car. The door was open and the keys were in the ignition. It can’t be this easy.
Someone grabbed her gun hand and the back of her head. Her head was slammed against the roof of the car, and the gun was ripped out of her hand. She slid to the ground, fighting against the dizziness that threatened to cause her to pass out.
She rolled over and peered up at the same woman who’d attacked her earlier. The woman was now pointing the gun at her.
“Why are you attacking me?” Isabella asked.
“You stole my weapons,” the woman said coldly and pointed the gun at her face. “No one steals from me.”
The owner of the diamond - encrusted weapons! Isabella realized she was about to be shot. She kicked out at the gun in a fluid movement. I guess those ballet classes are paying off now.
She knocked the gun out of the woman’s hands and rolled over, crawling after it.
The other woman grabbed her leg and Isabella flipped over onto her back to dislodge her. Her heart raced when she saw the woman’s fist heading toward her face. There was an evil glint in the woman’s murky amber eyes.
Isabella struggled against her and reached for the gun. The woman had gripped her hair and was punching her on the top of her head, making her vision blur until it felt as if her brain was rattling around inside her skull.
Her fingertips reached the handle of the gun and she grabbed it. The woman was still punching her on her head. If she didn’t stop her soon, she knew the woman was going to kill her.
Isabella pointed the gun at her attacker’s head. The woman didn’t notice, too intent on smashing Isabella’s skull to a pulp with her bare fists. Isabella fought to remain conscious.
“Stop,” Isabella cried.
“Only when you’re dead!” the woman screamed back at her.
Isabella pulled the trigger on the gun, and the woman’s head exploded into a gooey mess.
Isabella pushed her off and stood up, shaking like a leaf. She couldn’t look at the woman’s body. She couldn’t believe she’d just done that.
/> She steadied herself against the bonnet of the black car, inhaling a deep breath. She threw the gun into the jungle with what remaining strength she had. She didn’t ever want to touch a gun again.
A feeling of nausea welled up inside her, and she leaned over the side of the road and violently threw-up. Her body eventually stopped convulsing, and with acid bile burning her throat, she climbed into the black car and sat in the driver’s seat. Who was that woman?
She searched through the glove compartment and car interior. She found a black briefcase on the passenger seat and opened it.
Inside the briefcase, she found a laptop computer and a brown manila envelope. She opened the envelope and pulled out the documents inside it. There was a picture of the Kalamarian prime minister and a document requesting his assassination.
She closely read over the papers. There was a bank order, showing the transfer of a lot of money into a bank account and details of a political target. This woman had been an assassin. Her job had been to kill people. She must have been side-tracked when I stole her car.
Isabella sighed. I’ve got to get out of this crazy colony!
She switched on the car engine and turned the car around. She put on her seatbelt, and then slammed her foot on the accelerator. The car lurched forward at a high-speed and left a dust cloud in its wake.
She’d be out of Kalamar in less than an hour at this speed.
This time she wasn’t going to stop for anything.
Carla had never been this drunk before. The room was spinning around her, or maybe it was her who was spinning on the dance floor? She really couldn’t tell.
After Parklon had left with Bex, Carla had suggested more drinks to Max and danced all night with him, but she hadn’t enjoyed one second of it. All she knew was that the more she drank, the easier it was to forget everything else, and she wanted to forget. A pain burned in her chest, and she knew if she stopped and let her mind go over the evening’s events, she’d be miserable, so she chose oblivion instead.
Friends were pointless. They always betrayed you. Look at Bex, leaving with Parklon like that when she knew Carla had been looking for him. And Parklon… What kind of friend is he?
Carla was going to have fun and damn them both. She smiled when Max swung her around in his arms. Max is nice and a bit blurry.
She was aware that she couldn’t focus on anything very well, but continued drinking all the same. She had a theory that if she drank enough, she wouldn’t remember anything any longer, and it would stop hurting.
She took a long drink of her frothy beer. Painkiller. She smiled into the glass.
“Come on, gorgeous, let’s go somewhere else.” Max guided her toward the fire exit, half holding her up.
“Soundsh like a plan.” She held onto him to stay upright.
He opened the fire exit door and guided her into a dark alleyway.
“Ooh, I’ve never been here before,” she said, looking around but not really seeing much.
“First time for everything.” He pressed her up against the wall with his body, his face really close to hers.
“The fresh air feels nice.” She was barely aware he was there.
“You feel nice,” he said, stroking her cheek.
“You’re so sweet.” She hugged him. “Sush a good friend.”
“Maybe more?” He leaned closer and kissed her. His lips bruised hers with a rough kiss, and she tried to shake off the drunken haze, but it wasn’t shifting.
She kissed him back. It seemed the polite thing to do. He hadn’t abandoned her.
His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and they were demanding more from her. What am I doing?
“What are you doing with that idiot?” Gobbert butted in.
“Go away.” Carla told Gobbert.
Max paused. “What?”
“Oh, not you.” She laughed. “Him.” She pointed to Gobbert, hovering just behind Max’s head.
Max spun around, looking for the person she was referring to.
“There’s no one there.” He glanced around with narrowed eyes and then stared at her as if she were crazy.
“It’s my little guardian demon.” She giggled.
“You have a demon?” Max asked her, his eyes widening with fright.
“Demon! Oh, I like that,” Gobbert said. Then he scrunched up his face and expelled an uncomftabubble onto Carla.
Max looked disgusted with her. “This place stinks.”
Carla laughed. She felt close to tears. “The perfect end to the perfect night.”
“I’m gonna get going. I’ll see you later.” His eyes were wide with panic now. He turned and hurried down the alleyway, rushing away from her.
“See you around.” She called after him, and then fell to her knees and threw up on the ground.
Sharp gravel cut into her hands and knees while she knelt there heaving out the contents of her stomach. Her head was spinning, and she felt as if her insides had just been ripped to shreds.
The alley was grimy, dark, cold and damp, but at least it was secluded. She felt awful. She was trembling all over. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this.
“I don’t think you’re cut out for drinking, sweetheart,” Gobbert said.
She sank back against the cold stone wall, and her face crumpled in pain. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and it hurt to breathe.
“Er, there, there. It’s not that bad.” Gobbert looked away from her, and his words seemed awkward.
“Please, j-hic-ust leave me alone.” She managed to say through a hiccup.
“Your wish is my command.” Gobbert vanished.
Carla hugged her knees and hot tears silently spilled from her eyes onto her cheeks. Shivering in the cold and pressing herself into the shadows, she felt so ashamed. She didn’t want anyone to know she was here. She didn’t want anyone to find her in this state.
The world was still spinning, her head was pounding, and her memories were still raw wounds in her mind. If anything, drinking had made everything worse, and now she really was alone.
“At least if I’m alone, no one can hurt me,” she mumbled and then passed out.
“Yes, they can,” Gobbert said in a dark tone. He watched over her until the rays of morning sunlight warmed her skin.
The phone rang, and Parklon picked it up, bleary-eyed. “Hullo,” he mumbled into the mouthpiece, propping himself up on his pillows.
“Parklon? Is that you?” asked a familiar female voice.
“Isabella?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Yes. Thank God! I’ve been trying to get hold of someone for days.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
He heard crying down the phone line.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Bob,” Isabella gasped. “He’s dead.”
Parklon sat up in bed, instantly awake. Bob was one of his best friends. He couldn’t be dead.
“What, how?”
He listened while she told him the story of herself and Bob on the run, then her capture by the hunters and her escape into Kaens. She’d escaped to the Maklaw borders and was currently situated in a small town, trying to organize a group to go back into the jungle to find Bob’s remains.
“I should be there,” Parklon said, throwing off the quilt and scanning the room for his clothes.
“We set off in a week. If you can get here by then, it would mean a lot. Carla should come too, if she’s okay.”
“What do you mean, if she’s okay?”
“I tried calling her in Derobmi. No one knows where she is,” Isabella said. “When I called her before, she never answered. It just went straight to voice mail. My message wasn’t very clear, but I knew if she’d got it, she’d have come to help. I was worried about her.”
He narrowed his eyes as anger burned in the back of this throat. Carla knew. She knew this all along. “You’re telling me that Carla knew you were being hunted in Kalamar?”
“No, I never
managed to contact her. I just left a message on her cell phone. I was captured during it.”
He tightened his grip on the phone. He knew enough about Kalamarian bounty hunters to be aware of what they were capable of.
“Carla’s fine,” he said, clenching his jaw. “She’s here.”
“Oh? I guess the message didn’t get through,” Isabella sale, oblivious to Parklon’s rage.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Anyway, there’s no need to worry about Carla. You need to take care of yourself. Work permitting, I should be able to get there in a few days. I just need to settle a few things here, but I’ll gladly send over anything you need in the meantime.”
“I should be fine until you arrive. Amelia Norris sent some of her tribe to assist me. They’ve been wonderful. I’m just so lost without Bob. I... I miss him.”
“So do I.” He tried to keep the sadness from creeping into his voice and ignore the painful ache in his chest when he thought about his lost friend.
He said goodbye, hung up the phone and stared into space. Bob and Carla had been more than friends. They had been family. The people he trusted most in this world.
How could she be so selfish? If she’d told me earlier, Bob might still be alive. The Carla he had known was a fading memory. He felt as if they’d both died.
“Breakfast!” He heard Bex shout from downstairs. He’d forgotten she was here. She’d been feeling ill when she came home with him last night, so against his better judgment, he’d let her sleep on the couch.
He shook his head. Having his ex-girlfriend sleeping over was just inviting trouble. But he’d known Bex since he was a kid, and it had been many years since they’d been in a relationship. I’m sure it’ll be okay.
“Come on, lazy ass!” He felt an ache of sadness when she shouted for him again. If only all my friendships were so painless.
Carla opened her eyes and squinted at the sunlight. She felt like death. Not just hung over but drained too. She sat up and peered around the alley. It was dusty and grimy in daylight.
Science Fiction and Fantasy Box Set 1: The Squishies Series Page 30