Dead Man Running (Raised Book 1)

by Stevenson, Sharon

  “Give me the contract,” I said to General Stewart.

  He smiled broadly and opened up his desk drawer. Nick had pulled his head up to stare at me. I shrugged. Why had I been so scared of the Guard before? I had no idea. It was the best thing I could ever do for myself and my country. I could keep my flat, I could work locally, and I’d never need to worry about dying. The King is strong. His magic will live on if he ever dies, which is extremely unlikely anyway.

  The general passed me a pen.

  “No,” Nick said, yanking the pen away. “He has a User.”

  “Oh, so what?” I snatched the pen back.

  The General didn’t seem best pleased. “Have you or have you not a pre-existing contract?”

  “Who cares, I’m signing this one. Give it over.”

  “We don’t sign anyone without knowing the details of their previous contract. If there’s any potential for a security breach, we don’t allow the contract to be signed.”

  “What? You can’t tell me that now. I want in. Let me in. Put the tape back on.” Aside from essentially being worried about nothing in the first place, I wasn’t happy that they were taking back what they’d just tried to force down my throat for what I could only see as the most pissy reason possible.

  “Who’s your User?”

  We weren’t getting out of there without telling him. We both knew it. Nick slumped in his chair.

  “Britton Rocks.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My User is Britt. That singer in Vegas.” She might not be my rightful owner, but she owned my signature on that contract and that made her my User. I, apparently, was incapable of lying to this guy.

  He picked up the phone and held up a finger when I tried to talk again.

  “Sir, we’ve had a break-in. We’ve got an Animate here says his User is Britt.”

  He was quiet for a moment and then he put down the phone and nodded to the Guard at the door behind us.

  “The King will see you now.”

  “Good. I’m going to complain about you.” I hit eject on the DVD and snatched it out of the player. The General didn’t try to stop me, but the Guard hit my arm just right to make me drop it. “Ahhh. That hurt, you dick.”

  Thirty-Five - Kit

  I sat up and drank the water. I didn’t have an escape plan. The robot would stop me if I tried. I couldn’t let Britt use me to get Pete back. I didn’t know how to stop that from happening. I felt stuck. If I’d even had William, I might have been able to get a message back to them. All I could do now was wait, and it was driving me crazy.

  “I need something to eat,” I lied. I still felt ill, but she didn’t know that. I was betting on her knowing humans had to eat, and on Britt telling her to look after me properly. “I need the bathroom.”

  She smiled and got up. “I’ll send for food.”

  I got up stiffly and walked to the bathroom. I actually did need to go but the phone I’d seen when I was looking for my shoes was more important. I closed the door gently and picked up the receiver, not stopping to wonder why there was a phone in a bathroom.

  I know a couple of numbers by heart, and Mickey’s is one of them. I heard it ring and held my breath that I was actually going to get to talk to him before the robot thought I was taking too long and inevitably came to check on me.

  “Mickey?”

  “Kit? Thank God, where are you?”

  “She got me. I’m at the MGM. I think she’s going to blackmail you to get Pete back.”

  “Shit. I don’t know…”

  “I have to go. I can hear her.”

  The robot was making the floorboards creak in the bedroom. I hung up as quietly as I could, flushed the toilet and started washing my hands. When I opened the door, I found her waiting patiently on the other side with a tray of assorted food in her hand.

  “That was fast.”

  “They teleport it. I wasn’t sure what you liked.” She walked back towards the main room. I followed her, tempted to try braining her with something before I rationalised she was a robot. I’d need to take out her CPU and since I had no idea where that was, my own head was better off without any crazy escape plans.

  She put the tray on the table and went and sat on the chair across from the couch. I picked up the water again first. There was far too much here. Mini burgers, southern-fried chicken strips, barbequed ribs, chips, pizza slices, chocolate cake, apple pie, ice-cream. It was a bit less fancy than I might have expected given the surroundings.

  “Is this what Britt eats?” I doubted it. The girl was about a pound away from size zero. It wasn’t even the kind of thing I’d normally eat, and I was hardly skinny.

  “Sometimes. Mostly she likes fruit.”

  “Oh.” So, the robot had taken one look at me and decided I liked carbs then. That makes me feel so much better.

  “I always wanted to try pizza,” she said, wistfully staring at the tray.

  “You can’t?”

  She hit her stomach. A metallic sound told me she wasn’t a cyborg. “No stomach, it wouldn’t process. No taste buds either, so it wouldn’t be any good.”

  Still, she wanted. I felt kind of sorry for her. I ate a chip. It started up my engine, suddenly I was starving. I had a little bit of everything, brushing the guilt away with the thought that it very well might be my last supper.

  My call to Mickey was a relief. I’d at least gotten to speak to him one last time. I wasn’t sure what Britt was going to do to me, but I didn’t think she’d just let me go. I wondered what I could bargain with.

  “Is it good?” Britt-bot had moved over to hover over the coffee table.

  “It’s good. Thanks.”

  Her face lit up at the appreciation. For some reason her salacious glances at the food made me think about Pete trying to eat breakfast. He’d looked at it like he was starving and then he realised he couldn’t process it. I wondered how much that would suck and decided a lot. I don’t want to feel bad for the guy but I kind of do. What kind of life is that, where you can’t have the things you want?

  With a sigh, I lay back down. Mickey’s face popped into my head, so kind and open and honest. He’s the best guy I’ve ever known. He’d do anything for anyone without even asking questions. I think if I’ve got any regrets they all tie into how I feel about him and how he doesn’t know about it. His shyness has gotten to the unbearable stage. I’ve tried to tell him before but I’ve gotten too worried that he won’t be able to handle the confession, that he might run from me like he has so many other girls. I can’t take it anymore. I need to tell him how I feel. The very next chance I get, I’m doing it.

  Thirty-Six - Mickey

  Tim still hadn’t texted me back by the time I got the call from Kit. I needed to be doing something. I couldn’t let her sit there at Britt’s place. God only knew what they were doing to her over there.

  Where the hell was Pete? I paced the room, trying to think. I needed a User. I couldn’t do anything alone. It was ironic. The one time I really wanted Tim to call me and he was too busy with work shit to speak to me. He’d really been shaken by Pete being signed over to Britt. His job might actually be in trouble. There was nothing I could do about that.

  I sent him another text and put the phone back down on the coffee table next to Kit’s A.I. The little owl twitched and opened his metal eyes.

  “Miss Chase?” He sounded a little bit dazed. He’d slept for a long time, I supposed.

  “No, it’s Mickey.”

  “What happened? Where’s Miss Chase?”

  “She’s still in Vegas. We can’t get back right now.”

  “That was not the plan,” he said, flapping his wings out. “Why is she still there?”

  “She’s fine,” I assured him. He was overly concerned for his lady’s safety. Sometimes I found the bird charming, other times he grated on my last nerve. This would be one of those other times.

  “I must see her, immediately.”

  “No. Stay there. We’v
e got a plan. You’ll ruin it.”

  He blinked at me and then took off. I couldn’t have caught him if I’d tried. He got out the window. It was barely open a crack but he made it. Off into the dreary afternoon he soared. Bye, bye, birdy. I doubted I’d see him again. Kit might be upset, but we had to get her back first. I looked at my phone. Waiting on the call back was agony. I scratched at my neck and eventually went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the slightly buckled fridge. I held the cold bottle against my head.

  Thirty-Seven - Nick

  Another walk down a long dark corridor and we were off to see the King. I watched Pete and his new admiration of the Guards. Something was off about it, and I couldn’t see what because of my stupid magic still not working. I’d been trying to teleport every few steps. Nothing was happening. I knew it wouldn’t until I learned my lesson from the fear being imposed. With a weary sigh, I slapped Pete’s arm.

  “Hey. What happened back there?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” He had this glaikit look on his face. It was probably some kind of magic, but I had no way of checking right now. Damn it, not having my powers was a total pain in the arse.

  I took a breath and turned the cogs of my thought process. Start at the start. The magic came about sixty years ago, when that UFO landed. The aliens had found a new food source and decided the sheer numbers that outweighed them meant fitting in with the humans until they became the roly-poly blood-suckers we call Vampires today. They feed off humans who like the rush, and they don’t kill. They’ve got jobs, they contribute to society. At the same time, something we didn’t know about was happening. The spaceship had brought some funky kind of radiation that sunk into the earth’s core and became a part of the atmosphere up here. It affected certain humans and it became useable energy as magic. That magic can be used to Animate the dead. Something about that magic has been used to turn Pete into an eager to be enslaved moron. He’s been hit with some kind of mind-control spell. I could break it if I had my magic.

  “I’m demanding he signs me up,” Pete told me, grinning inanely.

  “You’re demanding no such thing. I’m doing the talking.”

  “It’s such a sweet set-up, man.”

  “What, having your tongue chopped off so you can silently serve the King for the rest of your miserable existence? I don’t think so.”

  He just kept that dopey grin on his face and let the guards drag him along. A whoosh in the corridor made me gasp in breath. Something had just happened. The corridor ahead was brighter in the blink of an eye. We’d come through a portal. Probably just to another part of the castle to make sure we couldn’t map a path to the King’s room, most likely. It was an encouraging thought. They probably wouldn’t have bothered if they weren’t planning on setting us free after.

  The corridor was much more modern that the dark dank cobbled ones we’d already walked. It was most likely magically enhanced, but I couldn’t be sure without access to my own magic. This is what it’s like to be a normal human, I suppose.

  One of the guards stepped forward and opened a door I wouldn’t have known was there. We were quickly hustled in to stand before the King of Scotland, the highest level User in our country, otherwise known simply as David. He’d renounced his surname magically, distancing himself from his film star past. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t say that name out loud.

  The man sat on his throne, tapping his long fingers against the gold-plated arms. He smiled at us as we approached. An advisor of some sort stood beside him, silently giving off waves of annoyance. The guards backed off when our King got up, bounding down the mini staircase to greet us. He wasn’t entirely what I’d expected. He looked the same as he had in those secret agent movies ten years ago and was even wearing the same style of sharp suit. He had dark hair in a floppy cut, big blue eyes and a high cheek-boned face. He was tall and thin and not the slightest bit imposing until he drew a certain look popular from his movie career. Being a User, he could probably make that a truly killer look. I just hoped I didn’t get to see it today.

  “Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He looked at us expectantly.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I want to be in the guard!” Pete piped up like a drooling imbecile.

  I slapped him hard in the guts. In my defence, I think I might be losing my mind. Pete just frowned at me and then went back to grinning stupidly at our monarch.

  “You do, do you?” Our King looked him over. “Yet you signed a contract with this little lady.”

  Britt had appeared on the podium beside the throne. Shit. This was bad. No magic and here I was standing in front of the two highest level Users I’d ever met. The hell was I supposed to do? The ginger-haired advisor guy helped her down from the podium and she smiled her thanks at him. He didn’t seem impressed by her keeping up of appearances.

  “It’s illegal to take a contracted User’s Animate without first voiding the original contract.” King David didn’t seem the kind of man to spout random facts. This sounded like a serious lecture coming on. I hoped that was all it was going to be.

  “I want to be in the guard!” Pete was starting to sound like a goddamn parrot.

  “Can you fix this?” I motioned to Pete. He was starting to bug my brains. I had to ask.

  King David motioned for his advisor to approach. The guy moved forward and stopped.

  “Is this the one?” The King sounded stern. Something odd was going on here. The ginger guy was starting to sweat. David had put an arm around him. There was something threatening about it.

  “It’s him,” Ginger said, dropping his eyes after he said it.

  “So, what I need to ask is why he was able to go to Vegas and get signed by this young lady when he was personally picked out for the Guard?”

  Britt stood and stared at Pete while the exchange took place. She wasn’t interested in whatever punishment was about to be doled out. She was only interested in getting her property back.

  “I messed up,” the guy said, no stammering apology or attempt to keep them from hearing him.

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  If Pete was at all bothered that he’d been killed with the intention of being signed to the guard, he wasn’t showing it at all. He looked at Britt and then he looked at the King. He kept looking, as if he was trying to work out who he’d be going home with. I was pretty sure it was going to be Britt, and there was piss all he could do about it this time. I didn’t even have my phoney ownership claim to fall back on.

  The ginger guy nodded curtly. The King seemed to think for a minute. “Find me another.”

  The guy disappeared. Damn. I wish I could have done the same.

  “I apologise for the confusion,” King David told Britt. “Please, take your property and get the hell out of my castle.”

  She grabbed Pete’s arm and smirked at me. “Good bye, my invisible friend.”

  She teleported them out.

  King David turned his eyes on me. “Well? Skedaddle.” He made a shooing motion at me.

  I turned but the guards were gone. “I can’t teleport.”

  He sighed. “You are a User, are you not?”

  “Britt did something…”

  He nodded quickly. “Right, right. Here you go.”

  He ditched me on North Bridge, not quite in the middle of traffic but I did have a close call with a taxi getting off the road. I breathed a sigh of relief and then I remembered I still didn’t have my magic and that Pete was back with Britt. The day was turning into one big stinking mess.

  Thirty-Eight - Mickey

  Tim teleported into the flat, appearing directly in front of me and blocking my view of the soap opera I’d managed to immerse myself in while I waited. I put down my third empty and looked up at him.

  “I can’t stop long,” he said. “Work to do. You said it was urgent?”

  “She’s got Kit, she took her. I don’t know any other Users and my passports in a hotel room in Vegas.
”

  He took in what I’d said and sighed. “I’m out of favour with the boss. I need to do something before I can help.”

  “What do you need? Can I help?”

  “I have to do it alone. I can come and take you after. Maybe three hours.” He looked sort of sick or something.

  I didn’t really know what to say but I wished I did. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

  He disappeared again. I could hear Dave shouting from the kitchen and I turned the TV up to drown him out.

  Thirty-Nine - Kit

  Britt walked in looking as graceful and gorgeous as she had on stage. The white silk robe wrapped around her made her sun-kissed skin look bronzed to perfection. She smiled at me and made her way over to the couch.

  “You must be Kit. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Bite me, bitch.” I could be pleasant to the help, but as far as she went I wasn’t going out of my way.

  “My, what a mouth you have,” she told me, raising her expertly plucked eyebrows.

  “All the better to tear your throat out with, my dear.” I stood up. I was at least five inches taller than her and that was without heels. The woman was short. I actually think her robot was taller.

  “Don’t get any silly ideas,” she said.

  I felt some unseen force and then I was back sitting on the couch, unable to move anything below my neck. Magic seriously sucks. I glowered at her. “What’s the matter, too afraid to go hand to hand? Chicken-shit bitch.”

  She giggled and sat down next to me. “You’re so funny, Kit. It’s no wonder he’s got it so bad for you.”

  I wasn’t taking the bait. “Let me go or die.”

  “Those aren’t the options, Kitty-cat. No. I got Petie back on my own and now I think I’d like to force him to make a rather unpleasant decision. So, you don’t mind if I leave you here just for a bit.”

  She disappeared before I could ask what the hell she was talking about. I felt like screaming. I couldn’t move, even after she’d left. She’d paralysed me from the neck down.