Makeda Red

by Jennifer Brozek

  Makeda nodded. “He’s holding his cards close. Even so, if everything is wired, he’s not likely to overhear the conversation.”

  “No, but he can decide to do something stupid while we’re both plugged in.” Vasti took Tojo’s cleaned plate from him and saw the expression on his face. “Don’t look so shocked. People lie. All the time. There’s no altruism in the shadows. Just money, the run, and the victims.”

  Tojo looked between Vasti and Makeda. “But…he’s running from his corp, too.” His eyes begged Makeda to back him up. She didn’t respond.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Vasti scowled. “He’s too nice. Too polite.

  Anyone that nice is hiding something.”

  Makeda chose not to address this, even though doubts about her client continued to plague her. “Lemme talk to my team. The sooner I do, the sooner we can all part ways.”

  Vasti beckoned her over to the computer setup—a clunky, Frankenstein-esque mishmash of old and new tech. “You’ll have to sit on the floor. This is built for me.” She pulled a datajack from a tangle of wires and offered it to Makeda as she made herself comfortable.

  “Thanks.”

  “Plug in and wait.”

  Makeda gave Tojo a comforting smile—at least she hoped it was comforting—before she jacked in. Instead of an AR room, Makeda found herself looking at a text chat window—black background, green text. There were already two people in the room: RealAdonis and Perchta.

  * * *

  Perchta: My guest will get to talk when the nuyen is in my account.

  RealAdonis: sent

  Perchta: Received. I’m monitoring this and will keep a log. The log will be destroyed on the last payment. Got it?

  RealAdonis: yes

  * * *

  A virtual keyboard appeared in Makeda’s line of sight. She changed her name from Guest2945 to Makeda. It was a strange, archaic setup, but it worked.

  * * *

  Makeda: Real old skool.

  RealAdonis: Prove yourself

  Makeda: I know what you do in the shower with the duck.

  RealAdonis: Damn good to hear from you.

  Makeda: Prove yourself.

  RealAdonis: I know what you mean when you say, “You’re not on the bike.”

  Makeda: Heya Galen.

  RealAdonis: Status?

  Makeda: Alive. Fed and getting cleaned up thanks to Perchta.

  Missed the meet in Lucern.

  RealAdonis: No drek. What a mess. Lost the deposit.

  Makeda: Plan B?

  RealAdonis: They’re pissed, too

  RealAdonis: Plan B. Make it to Bern. No one there cares about foreigners. Go to the airport. I’ll have a flight for you and the target. You’ll be going to Málaga, Spain as planned. Might even be able to get you some alt IDs

  Perchta: They care about metahumans in Bern, but they don’t do anything about it. Remember that.

  Makeda: Spain as planned. Right. Can the flight take 3?

  Makeda: Thanks Perchta.

  RealAdonis: ?? 3?

  Makeda: Picked up an extra client on the run. Paying client. He needs to get to Spain, too.

  RealAdonis: !! What the hell? You can’t pick up every stray out there!

  Makeda: It’s Imre.

  RealAdonis: Ditch him! I don’t care how hot he is.

  Makeda: Paid 250,000¥ for the escort.

  Perchta: I get my 5%.

  Makeda: 1

  Perchta: 5

  Makeda: 0

  Perchta: That’s not how this works, girly. But I’ll go to 4%.

  Makeda: 3% and you have a deal.

  Perchta: Deal.

  RealAdonis: That’s out of your cut.

  Makeda: We’ll talk about that later. I need 3 on a flight out of Bern to Spain. I’ll cut him loose after that. The extra seat comes out of that 250,000¥.

  Perchta: 242,500¥.

  Makeda: Whatever. How far from here to Bern, walking, Perchta?

  Perchta: With the wage slave? 2-3 days. He’s slow. About 50 klicks. You might be able to catch a ride about halfway in. Maybe. Some of the trogs and orks don’t like foreigners. Some do.

  Makeda: 3 days then. Flight for 3 out of Bern. Private craft, no questions asked.

  RealAdonis: Expensive.

  Makeda: Don’t care. This run’s already gone pear shaped. I want it done.

  RealAdonis: Ok RealAdonis: I’ll get it done

  RealAdonis: When will you be back in wireless range?

  Perchta: 15 km from here.

  RealAdonis: I’ll have info for you when you return to civilization.

  Good to hear from you, Makeda.

  Makeda: You, too.

  Perchta: Gonna cut off this chat before it gets mushy.

  * * *

  Makeda blinked as the chat room disappeared from her cybereyes. She pulled the datajack from its socket and rubbed her face. Tojo now sat on the couch. He watched them with a neutral expression. Checking her internal clock, not even four minutes had gone by. The shower was still running.

  Vasti held out a certified gold credstick and a credstick reader. It had 5,500 nuyen showing in its display. “7,500 nuyen, please.”

  “You’re a bandit.” Makeda said without rancor as she pulled Imre’s platinum credstick from her pocket and transferred the money.

  The old woman smiled at the 13,000 nuyen when it showed up on the credstick display. “I prefer to think of myself as an opportunist. Not many ways for someone like me to make money these days… And retired or not, I still need money to keep the homestead going.”

  “I know. I would’ve done the same thing in your place.”

  “Are we okay?” Tojo’s question was soft and hopeful.

  Makeda nodded. “I think we’ll be okay. Got some traveling to do, but things are in motion.” She watched Vasti as she answered Tojo.

  Vasti shrugged one non-committal shoulder at Makeda’s implied question. They both looked up as the shower cut off. Vasti pointed at Tojo. “You’re next.” She murmured to Makeda, “Don’t worry. I got a tankless water heater. You’ll be fine.”

  Makeda waited until Vasti had disappeared into her bedroom and both Imre and Tojo had showered and were settled before she decided what to tell them. She stood and paced the threadbare rug while they sat on the couch.

  “Right. I’ve gotten in touch with my team. We still have some walking to do, but the plan is to get us to Bern. By the time we get there, we’ll have a flight lined up…. Then all of us are going to Spain.”

  “Spain?” Imre tilted his head. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to get me where I needed to go.”

  She shrugged. “As it happens, Spain is an excellent jumping off point to a lot of places in the world. We’ll be going to the Málaga airport. You can get to Morocco from there on your own.”

  Imre frowned, but didn’t say anything.

  Makeda locked eyes with him, making sure he understood. “Once we’re in Málaga, you go your way, me and Tojo will go ours.”

  “That will work.” Imre nodded. “I understand.”

  She wanted to say more. Something about staying in touch, but this wasn’t the time or place. Imre had a lot of skills she could use, but until she handed Tojo over to his new corp, that sort of stuff needed to wait. Duty before pleasure and all that. Also, she still couldn’t tell if she could trust him.

  Trust was a hard thing to come by in the shadows. Especially when you were working with an unvetted person. Imre was a puzzle. He was a client, but he also seemed to have the skills to make a good runner, and probably a good teammate. That’s what also made him suspicious. Perhaps he’d learned such skills working at the Hanover Casino. Perhaps not. His former job sounded like a training ground for runners, but there was nothing and no one to vouch for him.

  Even if there was, her gut told her that something was off with him, and she trusted her gut. Makeda just wished she could figure out what it was. Until then, his money did the talking, and he was just another extra
ction client. She just hoped it wouldn’t end with his knife in her back.

  12

  Makeda opened her eyes to moonlight streaming in through the window. Tojo snored on the couch. He had offered it to her. She had refused. Her client needed better rest than she did. Not to mention that she was used to sleeping on floors, in vehicles, and other uncomfortable places.

  She sat up, looking for Imre. He was on the other side of the couch, near to the kitchen. He wasn’t snoring, but he looked like he was asleep, curled up in one of the comforters Vasti had given them.

  Makeda slid her boots on and wrapped her comforter around her. She still wore the clothing she’d escaped the train in. They all did. She’d insisted they sleep in their clothes, ready to run at any sign of trouble. That was when she’d seen the first real crack in Tojo’s brave face.

  It was the littlest things that broke a person. The proverbial straw. In Tojo’s case, it was the need for comfort, and that meant not sleeping in his clothing. It took her a bit to figure out that his brave face had cracked because they’d been helped by Vasti. She’d read once that prisoners could survive almost anything, but they were most likely to riot after things started getting better. That was when they realized just how bad it had all gotten.

  That was where Tojo was. Having a real meal and a roof over his head after the train wreck, fleeing through the mountains, and spending a night in a cave made Tojo realize that the trip to his new home wasn’t done. There was more to go, and it would suck. There was no comfortable car, plane, or train waiting for him. He already hurt—blisters, bruised knees—and he was tired, but there were many more kilometers to go. All of this was realized because she asked him to sleep in his clothes.

  After a couple of quiet words with him, explaining why she wanted this—better safe than sorry more than the thought they would actually be attacked in the night—she’d allowed him to sleep in just his t-shirt and pants, hanging up the buttoned-up shirts to air out. It had been a safe enough compromise.

  But now, she was awake, and she didn’t know why.

  Moving with silent steps, she walked to the door, unlocked it— even out here in the boonies, the retired shadowrunner couldn’t let go of her locks—and slipped out in an exhale of breath. The cold night air caressed her skin, covering it in goose bumps. She pulled the comforter closer and enjoyed the silence. It was the first time in days she’d been alone.

  From her vantage point on the covered porch, Makeda could see more than she thought she would. The cabin itself butted up against a couple of trees at the edge of a clearing. The sloped land gave way to rolling hills and rock. A dirt path that led to the north looked like a glowing river in the moonlight.

  This was the path they would follow for at least a day. Once they returned to the wireless world, she’d be able to suss out the situation and make a more concrete plan than “go north, get to the Bern airport within three days.”

  The door to her right opened, and Imre slipped out with a quick step. She clutched for the palm pistol she didn’t have on her, then relaxed as he shut the door. Makeda glanced at Tojo through the window. He was still asleep.

  Imre hugged himself, wearing his sleeveless duster. “I saw your shadow. It woke me. The light, dark, light. You good?”

  Makeda glanced in the window again and saw that her shadow indeed had played over the floor where Imre had slept. “I’m good. Just thinking about tomorrow.” She moved away from the window to the other side of him. It was outside Vasti’s small bedroom, but that didn’t matter. Makeda assumed everything that happened in the cabin, and outside of it, was recorded. Especially with strangers in the house.

  “You have a plan?” Imre rubbed his arms in an absent attempt to keep warm.

  She nodded. “As good of a plan as I’m going to have for the moment.”

  He looked out at the view she’d been enjoying. “I have to admit, I’m going to be sad to part ways. I had hoped to spend some time getting to know you.” He sighed. “Wishes and fishes and all that. We could keep in touch after Spain?”

  Makeda didn’t say anything. She watched his lips move as he spoke. She wished he had been her original client. Then, they would’ve spent most of the train ride in her suite, entwined in each other. She let images of their naked bodies linger in her mind, and she sighed. That would have been fun.

  But getting to know him now was out of the question. Until the mystery of her doubt was settled, she needed to keep Imre at arm’s length. She glanced at him again. At least, the emotional distance needed to remain.

  “I mean, I’ve kinda gotten used to you being around. In charge.” He hugged himself more, rubbing his arms against the breeze that danced about the cabin. “I really like you.”

  “Yeah?” She gave him a half-smile and an open gaze to tell him she liked him, too. Just because she needed to keep him at arm’s length emotionally didn’t mean she couldn’t keep him close physically. After all, she was in charge and responsible for his well-being.

  You are such a lech. She smiled all the more at her mental scolding. He nodded, glanced at her, and bit his lip for a moment. “You…I mean, you’re beautiful, but you’re smart. And fearless. And…” He shook his head. “Capable. It’s nice to see.”

  “Thank you. I use what I have to get the job done.”

  Imre turned to her. “Can I…? I’m serious. When all this is done, can we still keep in touch?”

  “Keep in touch?” She kept her real cards close. Makeda let the smile play about her lips as she watched his face. He was handsome. Again, she wondered what he’d look like with his natural dark hair. “Keep in touch how?”

  Catching onto her flirting, he returned her playful smile. “Oh, you know. By comm…or AR…” He stroked the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “When we’re not running for our lives. When I’m all set up in Morocco.”

  “We’re not running for our lives right this moment.” She tilted her head up in an invitation. He accepted it, kissing her slow and lingering, letting their lips explore each other.

  Makeda opened the comforter to wrap the two of them in it. She took a breath as the cold of his clothing pressed against her warm body. Kissing him all the more, she let him press her against the wall of the house, his hands roaming her sides down to squeeze her ass and pull her tight against him.

  She pressed to him, feeling his arousal, thinking of where they might go for a quick bit of love making. Not inside. Too small. No privacy. Outside was cold. She gripped the comforter in one hand around his neck and used the other to unfasten his duster so she could slide her hand under his shirt, against his skin. Part of her wanted to wrap her legs around him right then and there, but the logistics of getting her pants off while keeping her boots on confounded her hormone-addled brain.

  Sex on a run was pure adrenaline and sensation. There was nothing like getting naked when your life was on the line. More than once, she and Zaria had made time for love when there had been no time to spare. It was the best sex she’d ever had. Right now, there was no good place for what she wanted, but he smelled so damn good and was so warm…

  A howl rose in the distance. It was joined by another and another. It sounded like it came from the valley just over the ridge. Not very far away.

  It was an unwelcome reminder of where they were and how dangerous things had become. They both looked towards the sound, then each other. Makeda chuckled. “Oh, you are dangerous. Maybe we can find some privacy tomorrow when—”

  Whatever else she was going to say died in her throat as the howling cut off with a high-pitched yelp of pain and the growling snarls of wolves fighting something. The yelping stopped, but the growls and snarls did not. The sound of breaking branches and the fight continued until there was a roar of victory and a fleeing of four- footed animals. Then a thick silence descended.

  “What—?” Imre began, but Makeda put a fingertip over his mouth. They both listened hard over the beating of their hearts. The sound of tearing flesh and cracking bone
floated to them on the wind. Whatever was out there was eating its kill, and neither of them wanted to get its attention.

  Makeda drew Imre to the door, ignoring the cold as she gathered the comforter to her. She showed him three fingers, then counted them down before she opened the door and both of them slipped back inside.

  Imre walked to the kitchen as Makeda dropped the comforter at her spot on the floor. He handed her a glass of water as she joined him. The two of them drank in silence as they both contemplated the incryptid creature they would have to outrun over the next couple of days.

  13

  Dressed in the clean linen shirt Vasti had provided and full of oatmeal, Makeda felt ready to tackle the next part of their trip. If all went according to plan, in half a day they would have semi-regular Matrix access—or at least e-mail. Tonight, they’d find one of the rural barns to sleep in. Tomorrow, they would meet a real road. They should be able to thumb a ride into Bern from there—if they were lucky.

  If not, tomorrow they’d walk until they found a place to rest and call for a taxi of some kind. Bern had an international airport, after all. The closer they got to civilization, the less chance there was of running into the beastie that had eaten the wolf last night. Whatever it was, that was something she didn’t want to face.

  Makeda eyed Vasti a couple of times, wondering if the old woman knew what was out there. She did. Of course she did. The question was, would she tell Makeda about it? If yes, how much would it cost? It looked like they had a lot of money now. But they didn’t. Not in the grand scheme of hiring planes, buying fake IDs, and bribing border officials. She wasn’t sure they’d have enough.

  As Imre helped Tojo wrap his feet in anticipation of a lot of walking, Vasti beckoned Makeda to follow her. The two left the confines of the cabin in silence. Makeda wondered if something had changed overnight. Vasti checked the corner cameras of the cabin before leading Makeda down the dirt path until they were well out of earshot of the cabin.