Women of the Dark Streets

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Women of the Dark Streets Page 4

by Radclyffe


  The driver was eyeing both of them in the rearview mirror. “Keep going?”

  “No,” Elsa said.

  “Yes,” Lisa-Marie told him. “Elsa, I know you’re upset. But it’s not what you think—”

  “That you have my hotel reservations on your phone?” Elsa said, glaring at her. “That today wasn’t a coincidence? That your parents probably aren’t even at the park, are they? Who’s been calling you?”

  Lisa-Marie grimaced. “My secretary.”

  The cabbie turned, but the Cirque de Soleil show was letting out and the lane was jammed with cabs and vans. Exasperated, Elsa reached for her door handle.

  Quickly Lisa-Marie said, “I’m a lawyer working on a class action suit against the Department of Homeland Security and their routine violation of American civil rights, especially electronic privacy issues and unreasonable searches. Your company is the only one that services backscatter machines and we need technical information. My firm asked me to contact you, to see if you could help us.”

  “Help you?” Elsa demanded. Anger boiled up in her head and heart. “Why? Do I look like someone who wants to be unemployed? I have a security clearance—”

  Too late she shut her mouth.

  Lisa-Marie asked, “Why does a technician need a security clearance? Why is it that the TSA went ahead and implemented this technology, as unproven and dangerous as it might be? At first we thought, backroom politics. Pork spending. Everyone knows that a real terrorist these days wouldn’t go through security—there’s a half dozen easier ways, from the food service people to the plane cleaners. So there’s got to be some other reason for all this security theater, all this ridiculous pretense we can prepare for everything. Some reason why millions of passengers a year have to take off their shoes, why little kids get frisked, and why the TSA constantly lies about what the technology is or does. And you know what it is, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know anything,” Elsa said, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Other than the fact that you lied to me and tricked me and made me think—well, that doesn’t matter, because it wasn’t true.”

  Lisa-Marie touched Elsa’s leg. The expression on her face was almost as distraught as Elsa felt. “It was true. I’m not that good an actress. As much as I care about my job, I care about you, too. Do you know that they’re starting to identify possible cancer clusters around TSA agents? Tell me you wear a dosimeter to measure radiation.”

  “I’m not worried about radiation,” Elsa retorted. “I’m worried about lawyers who try to use me so they can win some frivolous lawsuit!”

  “It’s not frivolous!” Lisa-Marie insisted. “Backscatter and other screening machines could pose more dangers to the American public than we’ve ever seen before. I was supposed to ask you about your job, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin what we’ve got started here. Tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

  The taxi inched forward. They were still stuck in the damned parking lot, and might be for an hour. The cabbie was watching them in the rearview mirror with unabashed interest. Elsa glared at him until he dropped his gaze and started fiddling with his meter.

  “I don’t feel anything,” Elsa said. “How could I?”

  She tossed a ten-dollar bill over the divider and slid out of the cab. Lisa-Marie followed, but it was easy to lose her in the crowd pouring from the theater. Elsa kept moving and kept her gaze down. She seemed surrounded by lovers walking hand in hand, laughing and kissing, all these happy people, while she suffered the hollow, queasy feeling of being humiliated.

  When her phone rang with a text message she nearly threw it in the lake, but the number was Christopher’s. The Class A had been caught again at the Orlando airport. Where should he pick her up?

  Elsa squared her shoulders, wiped her face dry, and went back to work.

  *

  A Freedom of Information lawsuit filed today against the Department of Homeland Transportation alleges that images of thousands of people entering federal courthouse have been saved and stored without consent or awareness. The backscatter technology involved is the same used in airport screening lanes. A separate lawsuit alleges that the zones around these machines can expose the population to radiation that exceeds the “general public dose limit.”—WJCT, Jacksonville

  *

  Norfolk. Hartford. Manchester. Albany. Elsa figured that Lisa-Marie had tracked her so easily because she preferred one particular hotel chain, so she started mixing up her choices. She kept away from any that had swimming pools. Her back started to ache from so many hours in airplane seats, and her clothes began to get depressingly tight, so she doubled the workouts she did in her room. In Boston she tripped over an ottoman while doing lunges and had to use crutches for three days.

  Elsa knew that she was supposed to have reported Lisa-Marie to DHS but she didn’t really want to call down that kind of scrutiny on her. Once the government started keeping files, it kept on collecting information and invading privacy. Better to just forget the whole thing. Elsa didn’t answer e-mails or calls from people she didn’t know, she ate alone in her room each night, and she went to bed resolutely not thinking about long dark hair, a heart-shaped face, and lovely dimples.

  The last part would have been easier if she didn’t turn on the news one night to see Lisa-Marie on TV, being interviewed about electronic privacy. She looked smart and professional in a black business suit, her eyes hidden behind glasses. Like Superman masquerading as Clark Kent, Elsa thought uncomfortably. Fighting for what seemed like civil rights, but only because she didn’t know what danger America really was in.

  “More people need to realize what information is being collected against their will,” Lisa-Marie was saying. “More people with knowledge about these machines need to speak up.”

  Elsa turned off the TV.

  An AXB machine in Newark alerted with a Class A. Christopher picked her up at a Holiday Inn parking lot with a new technician named Alice. “Andrew’s out on disability,” Christopher said tightly when Elsa asked about him.

  “What for?” Elsa asked.

  Christopher turned the van toward the terminal. “Stomach cancer.”

  “It’s not job-related,” Elsa said, though she wasn’t sure if she was asking a question or not.

  Christopher said, “Probably not.”

  “We’re not exposed to enough,” Elsa insisted. “You know the specs.”

  “I know what they tell us,” he replied.

  Alice popped her head up from the backseat of the van. She was short and dark-haired, with a pixie cut and purple eye shadow. “Are we there yet? This is my first big one.”

  Elsa sat back in her seat. Christopher said nothing.

  The B1 security checkpoint was closed by the time they arrived. Their TSA contact was a big ex-football player named Tyrone Graham who sat in a plastic chair, arms folded, and glared at them for making him work overtime. Elsa ignored him. She had a hard time locating the Class A image. She realized that someone on the local staff had been moving around images in direct violation of protocol—storing groups of them in a local folder instead of keeping everything in one place.

  She opened a sub-folder. Over a hundred images had been saved there. Women, all of them, their faces blurred but their curvy bodies in clear view. Another folder had children, all of them standing with their arms raised over their heads in the same way as the adults.

  “Ew,” Alice said. “Someone’s a creep, huh? I thought users weren’t supposed to set up their little peepshows.”

  “They’re not supposed to.” Elsa angrily deleted the folders. She would report the incident, but didn’t know if anything would come of it. Philadelphia was good at collecting information and not very good at passing it down. Meanwhile, whoever had been collecting images would just start all over again, with plenty of material passing by every day.

  She tried to focus on the task in front of her. When the Class A image popped up, it was attached to the image of an overweight man with
a prosthetic knee. Like that long-ago one in Columbus, this demon had a head perched above the spread-open wings. The head was round and small, tilted slightly as if quizzically looking at the scanner. Some kind of circle hung around it, like a ring around Saturn.

  “What is that?” Christopher asked curiously.

  “I don’t know,” Elsa said. Her heart thumped faster in her chest and her palms turned sweaty.

  Alice snapped her chewing gum. “Looks like a halo. Pretty funny.”

  Elsa met Christopher’s gaze. If you believed in demons, then why not their opposites? For a moment he looked like he wanted to say something, but then his gaze slid across the empty security lanes to their TSA guy.

  “Let’s do it and get out of here,” he said.

  Elsa couldn’t help herself. “What if some of them are protecting people, not hurting them? What if everything we’ve been told is wrong?”

  “It’s not,” Christopher said tightly. “It’s not, because then you would lose your job. Do you understand me? You would lose your job and your income, and anything more would violate your security clearance, and how do you feel about a home visit from federal agents with guns? Because I, myself, would not like that at all.”

  Alice snapped her chewing gum again.

  Elsa’s fingers trembled as she started the download. She watched the creature slowly fade down the pipeline, its head tilted thoughtfully, its halo and wings disappearing into nothingness.

  Later that night, Elsa herself disappeared.

  *

  “I didn’t know,” she said, standing in the drenching rain outside of Lisa-Marie’s front door. “I didn’t know any of it.”

  Lisa-Marie was dressed only in a white bathrobe. It was just after dawn. Her hair was messy and her face creased from the pillow. “You’re soaked. Come in.”

  Elsa shook her head. She didn’t deserve to be warm and dry yet. “I want to help find out what’s really going on. I want people to know the truth and what the government is doing. But I don’t know how, and I don’t know who to trust. What do you do when you don’t even know if you’re standing on solid ground anymore?”

  Thunder rolled in the sky over their heads. The rain came down harder, but Elsa was beyond feeling cold.

  “You come to someone who cares about you.” Lisa-Marie stepped out into the rain with her arms open and Elsa buried her head against her shoulder. “You come to me, and we’ll find out the truth together.”

  Full Moon Weekend

  Meghan O’Brien

  “Are we there yet?”

  Dr. Eve Thomas chuckled. This close to the full moon, it was a wonder Selene hadn’t asked three hours ago. Being trapped in a car was never easy for her shape-shifting girlfriend, but it seemed especially difficult around Selene’s time of the month. A little over forty-eight hours out, the moon was already starting to turn Selene wild—she squirmed in her seat, radiating a curious mixture of desire and nervous energy.

  Eve raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking because you want to know where I’m taking you, or because you’re horny?”

  “Both.” Selene fidgeted and Eve caught a hint of a grimace in her peripheral vision. “I also have to pee.”

  “Think you can hold it fifteen minutes?”

  “Yes.” Selene folded her arms over her chest, clearly satisfied. “So we are close.” Her amusement faded quickly, drawing Eve’s attention away from the road.

  “What else is wrong?” Eve asked.

  Selene radiated grim resignation as she gazed out at the passing redwood trees. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, darling, and you’re so nervous it makes my stomach hurt. You’ve been on edge for the past week. Please tell me what’s going on?”

  Eve exhaled. Hiding things from Selene was impossible. With their empathetic bond, Selene would have known Eve was keeping a secret almost immediately, and yet she hadn’t asked, though she’d obviously wanted to. Eve had expected to have this conversation days ago and had been rehearsing what to say for weeks.

  Humbled, Eve opted for total honesty. “I wanted us to go away for the weekend. I know you don’t like being far from home during the full moon, but I think it’s time we change up your routine.”

  “My routine exists for a reason—”

  “A reason we debunked as unfounded two months ago when you—as the wolf—saved my life.” Eve chanced a sidelong glance at Selene, watching her react to the words. “I’m not going to lash you to that steel table anymore. I know you’re worried that night was a fluke, which is why I agreed to follow your routine last month. But you’re not dangerous. You’re not a monster, and I won’t treat you like one anymore.”

  Worry, fear, and mild relief emanated from Selene’s tense frame, a complex tangle of emotions. “I know I didn’t hurt you that night, but—”

  “No buts.” Eve kept her tone firm, trying not to dwell on her memories of that night. The first time she’d witnessed Selene’s lunar transformation had been during a life-or-death struggle with a crazed killer. Wolf-Selene had saved her life, belying her lover’s lifelong fear that the moon reduced her to a bloodthirsty, remorseless killer. Eve had imagined that the news that wolf-Selene was nothing more than a giant, fiercely loyal puppy would liberate Selene from her monthly ritual. Yet Selene still seemed too frightened to accept that she wasn’t the monster she’d always feared. “This weekend is about unshackling you, literally and figuratively. I love you—everything about you. Even the wolf. More importantly, I trust you. So no more restraints. Okay?”

  Selene’s palpable fear hung over them like a dense fog, making it hard to breathe. Eve rested a calming hand on her tense thigh.

  “If I ever hurt you…” Selene’s voice caught. Her face tightened with her obvious effort not to cry. “I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

  “You won’t hurt me.” Calling up a little of her own ferocity, Eve launched into her familiar, passionate defense of Selene’s nature. “You have to trust me, sweetheart. I met the wolf. I know her. She won’t hurt me.”

  Because Selene viewed her full-moon incarnation as entirely distinct from her human self, Eve talked about her that way, too. But she knew better than to believe that Selene was not the wolf and the wolf was not Selene—they were one and the same, and both very much devoted to Eve.

  Selene sighed. “You know it’s not you I don’t trust.”

  “I know. Let me prove you wrong. Please.” Eve perked up at the sight of their turn-off up ahead. “I rented the most remote cabin I could find. We’re miles away from the nearest neighbor, next to a gorgeous river. I say we spend the entire weekend naked, fucking and cuddling and swimming and just having a good time. We’ll have complete privacy. When the full moon comes, we’ll spend the night indoors. I brought a romance novel I’ve been dying to read. I’m sure you’ll be content warming my feet.”

  Eve drove into a long driveway so hidden she doubted that anyone who wasn’t looking for it would find it. Selene was silent as they went deeper into the redwood forest, and for a moment, Eve worried that she’d crossed a line.

  “I’m not upset with you,” Selene said. “I’m just scared.”

  “I know. Don’t be.”

  Selene barked a humorless laugh. “I wish it were that easy.”

  “It can be.” In the distance she spotted their cabin, and beyond it, the river that had attracted her to this location. This late in the summer, she craved a refreshing break from the warm weather. Excited despite Selene’s unease, Eve parked next to the cabin, then cut the engine. She turned to Selene and smiled. “I promise we’ll have fun.”

  Selene’s vivid green eyes were full of doubt. “The fucking and cuddling part does sound fun. I’m just not sure about the rest.”

  Eve unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over the console and kissed Selene, the deep, soulful kiss rapidly becoming so intense she nearly orgasmed. When she pulled away, she cradled Selene’s face between her hands. “I brought you to the middle of nowhere so you can be your true self…with m
e. I want you to be you this weekend. I want to see all the amazing things you can do—things nobody else can do—because that’s such a big part of who you are. It’s part of the woman I love. And I desperately want to know everything about that woman.”

  “You do know me.” Hurt colored Selene’s whisper. “You can literally feel everything I feel. You know me better than anyone ever has, or ever will.”

  “Baby, I don’t think you even really know yourself.” Stroking Selene’s cheek with the back of her hand, Eve gentled her voice. “You’ve never felt safe enough to explore who you are. But this weekend, with me, you’re safe. Even when you’re not in control, you’ll be safe. I’ll be here with you.”

  Selene closed her eyes, allowing twin tears to escape. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  *

  Despite being shaken by Eve’s surprise, Selene’s mood lifted at the discovery of an absolutely massive king-sized bed in the cabin’s master bedroom. She sat down, bouncing on the mattress with a contented sigh. So close to the full moon, this was a welcome sight. Attempting a seductive tone, Selene called out, “Eve, why don’t you come in here so we can start the weekend right?”

  Silence met her not-so-subtle suggestion. Perturbed, Selene closed her eyes and attuned her senses to her surroundings. As a human, she had only a fraction of the tracking and hearing ability that she could attain in other forms. But she scarcely needed those things to find Eve. Their minds and bodies had always been eerily in synch.

  Sensing that Eve had wandered outside, Selene walked downstairs and out the back door. The smell of redwoods hit her first, then the clean scent of the flowing river only thirty yards away. As much as she wanted to be angry with Eve for taking her away from the security of home on a full moon weekend, she couldn’t.

  This place was perfect.

  Eve turned around, hugging a backpack to her chest. “Happy?”

  “I love it here,” Selene admitted. She closed the distance between them and kissed Eve’s nose. “You haven’t even seen the bed yet.”

 

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