Zoe stepped out the opposite side, a cool wind ruffling her maroon dress. Her breath caught as she surveyed the empty area. “You can almost feel the desperation.”
A few discarded wrappers blew up the sidewalk past Trey, and a beer can rolled up the street.
It’s like a ghost town already.
Gunfire cracked in the distance, a reminder that the city wasn’t empty. Helicopters and military planes flew overhead. Down the street, a covered military truck rumbled past.
Trey and Zoe had passed a few military trucks and armored vehicles on the way to his grandmother’s house, but the military vehicles only slowed and let them past without any trouble. He wasn’t sure if they checked his license plates and realized he was a Brownstone Agency Bounty hunter or if the officer from the roadblock had passed his request on.
Trey didn’t care about the exact reason. He wasn’t going to question his good fortune.
Huh. Ain’t seen any cops, though. I wonder if they’re mostly gone now too?
Trey marched up to the front door and knocked loudly. There was no response.
He threw open the door and stomped inside. “Yo, Nana, you in here? I ain’t playing right now. I’m risking getting me and my girlfriend’s ass nuked for this.”
Zoe sauntered into the house, a slightly amused look on her face. Trey was glad someone was having a good time.
At least we know Nana’s alive, thanks to Zoe.
“Nana!” Trey bellowed. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna have to start tearing this place up to find you.”
“Hush now, boy,” Nana Garfield shouted back, her voice muffled. “Don’t you dare.”
Trey furrowed his brow and looked around. “Where you at?”
A closet door opened and the old woman crept out, cane in one hand, phone in another.
“Why you in there?” Trey asked, frowning.
“Because I heard someone coming, and I thought it might be the soldiers to come to take me away from here again.” Nana Garfield sighed before smiling at Zoe. “Hello, dear.”
“Hello,” Zoe responded softly.
Trey pointed to the open door. “Let’s go. You’re lucky you ain’t already been blown up, hiding in here and lying to Auntie Charlyce. You should be ashamed of yourself. How is that being a good Christian?”
Zoe headed to the porch, content to leave them to solve their family matter without outside interference.
Nana Garfield brandished her cane. “I told you already, boy. I want to die in this house. If I run, what do I have waiting for me? All my memories will go up with this place.”
Trey scoffed. “What do you have waiting for you? Are you shitting me now?”
“Watch your mouth, boy.” Nana Garfield glared at him.
Trey shook his head and pointed at himself. “This is just a place. Just things. I’m still here. Charlyce is still here, and according to your doctor, you’re gonna still be here for a few years yet, and you’re getting all up in your head and ready to die because of a house? That’s crazy.” He scoffed and threw up his hand. “And you know it’s crazy. I drove my ass all the way here from Vegas and risked getting shot by some soldiers to come pick you up.”
Nana Garfield’s expression hardened. “I’m staying.”
“We can do this one of two ways,” Trey explained. “It’s just like when I grab a bounty. We can do it the easy way, and you come along all nice and quiet, or we can do this the hard way, and I drag you kicking and screaming, because I’m not gonna risk leaving you to die. Too many people in my life have gone away, and I refuse to let another one do it because she's stubborn.”
His grandmother sighed and looked down. She had teared up. “But what if my house does get blown up?”
“As long as the family that loves you is around, all the houses in the world mean nothing.” Trey extended his hand. “Now, come on, Nana. We need to get out of LA before it’s too late.”
Zoe delicately cleared her throat and stepped inside. “Trey, I would suggest she stay for a few minutes.”
“You women are gonna be the death of me.” Trey groaned and turned around. “Why?”
“Because there are some rather hard-looking men who just pulled up one house down, and they are now eyeing your truck. They were eyeing me.”
Trey scoffed. “What’s the damned point of having martial law if you can’t even keep a few looters under control?” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled on his enchanted gloves. “I’ll be right back, Nana. You don’t need to see this.”
The old woman replied with a shallow nod, fear in her eyes. “You be careful, Trey.”
Trey headed toward the porch and grabbed the door handle. “The guys I take down for my job are way tougher than some punk looters. I’ll be fine.” He slammed the door behind him, more annoyed with the looters for messing up his rescue of his grandmother than anything else.
Zoe was right. Six tattooed toughs piled out of a pickup one house down. Trey was pretty sure at least one of them was an ex-Demon General.
Never get a skull tattoo when you join a gang. It makes it hard if you leave, Mr. Skull Tattoo.
A few had guns tucked in their waistbands.
“Do you need gentlemen need assistance?” Trey called.
The six men sneered and spread out in a rough line. They swaggered toward Trey like they owned the neighborhood.
Look at you motherfuckers. You’re the kings of an empty kingdom that might get blown up. You stupid motherfuckers should be mugging refugees in Sacramento or some shit.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Mr. Skull Tattoo replied, scratching his butt. “This is our neighborhood, dickwad.”
“Nah,” Trey replied. “I used to live around here, and this is my nana’s house. I ain’t recognize any of you motherfuckers, so I figure it’s more my neighborhood than yours.”
Mr. Skull Tattoo laughed. “You’re not getting it, dipshit. We ain’t saying we live here. We’re saying we’re using it for our little shopping trip. Brownstone and his bitches have kept this neighborhood locked up, so you know what I think? I think there’s all sorts of shit lying around, because people here have gotten used to the Granite Ghost protecting them. But he ain’t here now, is he?”
Trey shook his head. “I think looting when the military’s running around shooting looters and a big bomb might go off is pretty damned stupid. That’s what I think.” He pointed to a drone in the sky. “Military’s probably already coming.”
Mr. Skull Tattoo’s smile faltered for a moment. “Fuck the military. We ain’t had them stop us yet.”
“And were you right under a drone before?”
“Fuck you.” Mr. Skull Tattoo flipped Trey off. “You ain’t nothing, bitch. Get the fuck out of here before we decide to fuck you up.”
Trey scratched his cheek. “So, here’s how it’s gonna go, motherfuckers.” He pointed at the house. “This is my nana’s house, and if it don’t get blown up by some magic bomb, she needs to come back to it, so you need to sit your ugly asses in your truck and get the hell out of here, or you’re gonna have to deal with me.”
Mr. Skull Tattoo squared his shoulders. “And who the fuck are you? You think you’re big shit because you’ve got some fancy suit on? I’ll fuck you up, accountant boy.”
I wonder if the big man gets pissed when people don’t recognize him? It’s fucking annoying.
“’Accountant boy?’ What motherfucking accountant wears sweet-ass threads like this? I’m Trey Garfield of the Brownstone Agency, motherfucker.” Trey raised his fists. “And you bitches are so pathetic that if you were bounties, I wouldn’t even bother with you myself. I’d send one of our new guys to pick you up. Maybe we should get some interns from the local high school for pieces of trash like you.”
Mr. Skull Tattoo nodded to his friends and slammed his fist into his palm. “Don’t kill him, boys. I want him to lie there, all battered and busted up, as we rip that old piece-of-shit house apart.”
“Some fuckers learn easily,” Trey i
ntoned. “Others need the lesson smashed into their motherfucking skulls.” He sprinted forward and brought back his fist.
The looters swarmed him in a half-circle. Trey threw a punch into the face of a thug on his right, and the blow sent the man flying backward. His friends gawked in surprise, or perhaps fear, after the sickening crunch accompanying the attack.
Trey didn’t pause to gloat. His elbow strike cracked the ribs of another man. Two quick jabs disoriented another two thugs and sent them stumbling back. A final jump-kick ended with another man hitting the ground and smashing his head into the sidewalk.
The lone unwounded looter, Mr. Skull Tattoo, went for his gun. Trey grabbed his arm and bent it back until it snapped. The man howled in pain.
Trey yanked the thug’s head down and brought up his knee, and blood blurted from the thug’s face as his nose broke. Two brutal follow-up blows robbed the man of his consciousness. Trey let the trash fall to the ground where he belonged.
The remaining conscious looters moaned in pain, backing away from Trey.
“If you didn’t win with all your guys, you ain’t gonna win with fewer,” Trey observed. “That’s just fucking math, bitch.”
The men not grimacing in pain glared at Trey.
“I’m not gonna waste your asses,” he explained, “because I don’t want my nana walking outside her house and finding bodies. She’s having a hard time right now, and she don’t need that shit.” He kicked Mr. Skull Tattoo, and his body rolled over. “So unless you assholes want me to beat you all down, you take your wounded, you get in your truck and you never, ever come back here. You dumb motherfuckers should get the fuck out of the city before you get your asses nuked.”
The grimacing thugs picked up their wounded and backed slowly toward their truck, their gazes locked on Trey.
Trey watched them go, his hands twitching and ready to go for his gun if they decided to be stupid. They loaded into their truck, piling their unconscious men in the back seat. The truck roared to life and sped down the street.
A military drone skimming the nearby roofs zoomed after the truck.
Trey sighed, then hurried back to the porch and opened the front door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“What if they come back?” Nana Garfield asked.
“They ain’t coming back. They lucky if the National Guard don’t gun their asses down.” Trey offered his hand. “But I wanted to make it clear that no one messes with my nana’s house.”
Two hours later, Zoe and the Garfields were halfway to Vegas on I-15N. Nana Garfield slept in the backseat, snoring loudly.
Zoe had been smirking at Trey for the last ten minutes.
“What?” Trey finally asked. “Why you looking at me like that? It’s making me nervous.”
“Oh, my little supernova, you continue to impress. You drove back into great danger for a relative who was ready to die.”
Trey scoffed. “I ain’t leaving my nana to get vaporized and shit, that’s for fucking sure. And what about you? You came with me. Who’s dumber? The person who does dumb shit, or the person who follows them?”
Zoe laughed, the sound almost musical. “A good question. I think I’ve spent too many years forgetting what it means to truly live. With you, I feel alive again, and it’s not just your energy. It’ll be fun having your relatives stay with us.” She smiled at Nana Garfield. “My world’s more interesting with you around, Trey.”
Trey grinned. “Glad to hear that.”
Okay, I’ve taken care of what’s mine. Now it’s up to you, big man. I don’t know what you can do, but if you can do anything, save Nana’s house.
Shit, might as well save the rest of LA while you’re at it.
19
James had never thought he would so look forward to a meeting, but after a day of sitting around in the barracks room, doing anything, even going to another room, sounded like a good idea, even with Shay distracting him.
An armed airman escorted James through the maze-like hallways of one of the base buildings.
I just want this shit over, and we still have several more days before that fucker shows up. I can’t even concentrate on barbeque. Fuck. That’s just messed up.
Fucking Vax. Invade my planet and distract me from barbeque?
The airman escorting James gestured to an open door as they arrived at their location.
Senator Johnston sat inside, along with several military officers and various other people in suits James didn’t recognize or care about. They were in the middle of an animated discussion when he entered. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him.
James grunted and sat in an empty corner seat.
“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Brownstone,” Senator Johnston offered. “I’ll cut through the bullshit. Our boy on Oriceran is no longer doing his tourist imitation. He’s now started jumping, taking these big leaps like we’ve seen you do. It’s not the most graceful thing in the world, but he’s definitely sped up. Way up.”
James frowned. “How soon until he hits that resonance place?”
“By our current estimates, twelve hours.”
“Do you have any idea where he might come out?” James’ hands curled into fists under the table. Twelve hours until he met one of his people. Twelve hours until he found out if he had a destiny, or if he would just be another victim of the Vax.
Senator Johnston nodded. “Sometimes luck smirks a little even as she’s kicking you in the balls. The Oricerans have pinpointed what they believe is a possible exit point. It’s likely going to be near USC.”
James frowned. “Near USC? I don’t think I came to Earth originally near USC unless shit was way different thirty years ago.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, son. I’m just telling you what the magical folks have told me. They passed along a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, but it all amounts to that’s their best guess.”
“We should get me over there then.”
“Not yet,” General Hallwell, the base commander, interjected. “That’s not a good plan.”
James furrowed his brow. “If we know where he’s gonna come out, why not let me be there to welcome his ass to Earth Brownstone-style?”
“This Oriceran intelligence comes with caveats,” the general replied. “We’ve discussed this with Senator Johnston, and we don’t think it’s a good idea. You have to understand, Mr. Brownstone, the evacuation, as well as it’s gone, is still far from complete. Thousands of civilians remain in LA. The Army is making sure the area near USC is clear, but we need you to remain on standby until such time as the bastard comes through and we know his exact position. Everything we know about Vax military capabilities suggests he’ll be able to initiate an immediate offensive. We don’t want to waste precious minutes.”
Senator Johnston nodded. “I concur.”
James’ gaze swept the table and passed over all the concerned government officials and military officers. “I’ve got a better suggestion if this is about getting me to him for quicker ass-kicking.”
“We’re listening.”
“Put me up in a chopper here about an hour before the bastard hits the resonance zone. If I’m already in the air, the chopper can take me wherever he shows up. I’ll be ready.” James growled. “And I’ll make this fucker regret ever setting foot on Earth.”
General Hallwell nodded and turned to a major sitting beside him. “Get that going.”
The other officer stood and rushed out of the room.
Senator Johnston also stood. “I suppose I need to get ready for my part in this.”
“Which is what?” James asked.
“Keeping the Nine Systems Alliance honest,” Senator Johnston explained. “Let’s just say I give you my personal guarantee that the only thing you’ll need to deal with, son, is your disagreeable relative.”
James grunted. “Good. I don’t want to have to watch my fucking back. You sure you can do that, though?”
“Of course. We hired the best people to get us what
we needed to be ready for the Alliance, just like we’ve hired the best people to help us fight the Vax.” Senator Johnston opened the door. “I’m hoping that by tonight you can go back to worrying about your wedding plans, Mr. Brownstone. I got the Save-the-Date, by the way. I do appreciate it.”
“No problem,” James rumbled. “Don’t worry. Our venue’s not gonna be in LA. Even if this place gets blown up, we’re good.”
Senator Johnston laughed. “Well, now, that’s one positive way to spin the situation.”
Fleet Commander Laralan stared at the holographic image of Earth floating in front of him as he sat in his command chair on the bridge. He wouldn’t deny the beauty of the blue planet. It was cruel fortune that had forced him to lead this fleet to the system on a mission of destruction.
Maybe the Spirits chose me to make up for the last Shepherd’s mistake.
Other than being the same species as the last Shepherd, the commander had no relationship to her. He hadn’t even suffered like she had, having lived far away from any world ravaged by the Vax.
Still, the commander kept returning to the same conclusion. If Aiyn or her successor had done their jobs, Brownstone would no longer be on Earth, and Laralan wouldn’t be forced into having to order its bombardment.
Clicks and buzzes sounded from his insectoid Techain helmsman, the sounds hollow inside his breather helmet. “In position, Commander,” came the translation. His clawed, jointed fingers made several quick motions in the air, manipulating virtual controls only he could see thanks to projections inside his helmet.
“Show me,” Laralan ordered.
The holographic image of the Earth was replaced by an overlay graphic indicating the fleet was near the planet’s moon. They were preparing for a hard burn that would allow them to establish a proper geostationary orbit over the target city. From there, it was a simple matter of initiating the bombardment.
Laralan narrowed his eyes. Shepherd 8224’s last report indicated that thousands of civilians remained in the city.
May the Spirits forgive me for what I’m about to do.
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3 Page 112