Hath No Fury

by Melanie R. Meadors

  The saucer-like eye dipped to the money and came back up. “There’s a casita out back. Our manager lived there until she ran off with the cook. It has a toilet and a shower.”

  “How much?”

  “A hundred nu in advance.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  Raines sighed. “Okay, sign me up.” The moment she lifted her hand the fifty disappeared. “Have you seen this man?” Raines inquired, as she placed a flyer in front of the clerk.

  The clerk held it up to the big blue orb. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Let me know if you do. I’ll pay 200 nu for a confirmed sighting.” The man nodded.

  After receiving a key and some directions Raines made her way through the hotel’s kitchen, across a grubby courtyard, and into the casita. The paint was peeling, but the space was clean. She’d stayed in worse. Much worse.

  Raines placed her bag on the bed and went back out. The courtyard had a side entrance that led to Main Street. A lot of people were out and about. And, judging from their attire, at least half of them were members of the cult.

  Raines had dinner before making her way to a bar called the Green Door Saloon. A wooden bar occupied the right side of the rectangular room. An empty stage was visible in the back—and mismatched tables sat around it.

  The man behind the bar had four arms, only two of which were functional. The others stuck straight out from his shoulders and were equipped with flippers. “Howdy,” he said. “What’ll you have?”

  “A beer,” Raines replied. “And some information if you have it. I’m looking for this man. And I’ll pay 200 nu to anyone who can provide me with actionable information.”

  The bartender eyed the poster. “Percy Kraven, huh? He’s an ugly looking bastard. Nope. I haven’t seen him. Leave the poster and I’ll keep an eye peeled. I could use 200 nu.”

  “Sure,” Raines replied. “I’m staying at the Antlers Hotel.”

  After taking her beer to a table, Raines knew the parade was about to begin. Because even though half of her face was ugly, the rest of it was beautiful. And she had a good figure. The kind that most men and some women were attracted to.

  During the next three hours Raines had conversations with half a dozen people, tried to pump them for information, and came up empty. Either they didn’t know anything about Cray’s fortress-like house, or they weren’t willing to share. By the time she returned to the casita, she was no better off.

  Raines slept in, woke up groggy, and showered. After breakfast, she returned to the Green Door Saloon. Men hit on her, but none of the conversations were especially productive, until a man named Pete plopped down. He was already half sloshed. And, according to the story he told, had been working for Cray until the previous week. That was when Cray fired him for what Pete described as, “No good reason.”

  Raines suspected that Cray had a good reason, since Pete was a drunk, but encouraged the local to spill his guts. It took time. With a rising sense of excitement, Raines learned what she needed to know. Pete was face down on his forearms when she left.

  The sun fell like a hammer as Raines left the saloon and walked back to the casita. Once inside she locked the door, removed her clothes, and took a shower. The tepid water felt good. Raines stepped out, toweled off, and slipped into shorts and a tee.

  Her first task was to raise Peavey on the radio and give him instructions. Then Raines went to dinner, and took a short walk before returning to the Casita. She tried to sleep but couldn’t. Shortly after dawn, Raines packed her things and left the hotel.

  Ruby started with a roar, and using the hand drawn map provided by Pete, Raines drove north. The ruins of an ancient gas station marked the spot where she was supposed to turn. A dirt road led her east off the highway, across a timber bridge, and around the south side of a rocky hill. The sun threw shadows to the west—and the air had already begun to warm.

  A stand of willow trees and the remains of a burned-out house appeared as the truck entered a small valley. Raines braked. And as Ruby came to a stop, Peavey appeared out of the shadows. He looked none the worse for wear, but had a bad case of B.O., which caused Raines to roll the windows down after Peavey got in.

  The mood was somber as Raines followed the road between two hills and turned north. “What’s the plan?” Peavey wanted to know. “We need to rescue Lilly before they leave for the wedding.”

  “No,” Raines said. “We don’t. Cray has at least eight bodyguards, and there’s no way for me to get past them.”

  Peavey frowned. “So, what are you going to do?”

  Raines told him and Peavey didn’t like it. Not one little bit. But, as she pointed out, it was either that or nothing. Once they arrived at what Raines judge to be the right spot she pulled over, parked, and opened the back hatch. Her gear was stored in the cage used for prisoners. The next ten minutes were spent getting ready.

  “Okay,” Raines said, as she handed the ignition key to Peavey. “You know the plan. Don’t screw up. Lilly will pay if you do.”

  “I won’t,” Peavey promised. “Be careful.”

  Raines nodded and turned to the west. She was climbing a steep slope as Peavey started the truck and pulled away. Rather than break the skyline Raines elbowed her way to the very top of the hill where she settled into the shadow thrown by a pinnacle of rock.

  The ranch was visible below. It consisted of an L-shaped house with a pool, clusters of mature palm trees, an outbuilding large enough to stable horses, and a doublewide for use by Cray’s staff. The entire complex was surrounded by an eight-foot high cyclone fence topped with razor wire. Nothing was moving.

  Thus began a long morning. As the sun rose higher in the sky and the protective shade drifted away Raines was left to bake. She drank water, she checked her watch, and willed Cray to emerge. Finally, after hours of waiting, he did. And even though Raines knew what to expect, the man’s appearance took her by surprise. He was wearing a full facemask, hoses that led back to the oxygen tanks on his back, and a rubber suit which had been modified to look like a tuxedo. It was a scary sight. And it must have been damned hot.

  But that was nothing compared to Lilly. The preteen was dressed in a full-on wedding gown complete with a white veil, stockings, and miniature high heels. She was clutching a bouquet, and looked tiny next to the monstrous Cray. Two women wearing identical gowns followed along behind. Cray’s existing wives? Probably.

  Raines felt the anger rise inside of her and worked to tamp it down. Anger was counterproductive, anger was unprofessional, and anger could get her killed.

  Raines bit her lower lip as Lilly climbed up into the SUV closely followed by Cray and his wives. Two pickup trucks, both equipped with machineguns, took up positions ahead of and behind the Hummer.

  Raines did the math. There were three vehicles, and two guards in each, so six of Cray’s security people were about to depart. What did that leave? Two people. Or so it seemed. More staff could be lurking in the house or the doublewide.

  Still, things looked good so far. By invading Cray’s home and waiting for him to return, Raines hoped to accomplish what would otherwise be impossible. And that was to get the drop on Cray when he was by himself. Yes, Lilly would be married to him by then, but so what? The marriage was illegal. And once Cray was in the slammer, Lilly would be free.

  Engines roared, a guard pushed the gate open, and the vehicles left. Shortly thereafter the remaining guards turned and went over to the doublewide. Would Cray approve? That was unlikely. But Raines could imagine how the guards perceived the situation. Their job was to protect Cray, and he was gone, so what the hell?

  Raines gave them time to settle in before following a ravine downhill. A short sprint took her to the fence where she went to work with a pair of wire cutters. Once a section of mesh was free Raines pushed it up and out of the way. After crawling through the hole, she turned to pull the flap down. The bounty hunter was confident that nothing other than a close inspection would
reveal the vertical cuts.

  A quick dash took Raines to the house where she opened a slider and entered the living room. It was full of gilded mirrors, oversized chairs, and ornate tables. Was that the kind of décor Cray thought a rich person should have? Probably.

  A voice said, “Howdy partner!” and Raines whirled, pistol at the ready. Then she saw the cage and the parrot sitting within.

  Her heart raced. Had someone heard? Would they come to investigate? No. Raines could hear the distant sound of singing. A cook perhaps, working in the kitchen.

  Carefully, to avoid detection, Raines explored the back part of the house. A hall led past two bedrooms, one of which was the master. She entered. Was the four-poster bed large enough to accommodate three adults and a child? Yes it was. And the reality of that made her blood run cold. As did the mirror on the ceiling.

  Raines heard a noise in the hall and slipped into the walk-in closet. A crack remained after she pulled the door closed. Raines watched a short woman with black hair enter the room and place a vase filled with flowers on the dresser. Then she left.

  Raines sat cross-legged on the floor. The waiting began. She knew that the cult’s so-called temple was about five miles away. Once the ceremony was over Cray would bring his twelve-year-old bride to the house. Then Cray would head for his bedroom. To change if nothing else… Or to play with his new toy. Would the plan work? Maybe. She hoped so. Time slowed to a crawl.

  After creating a hiding place behind Cray’s collection of guru style robes Raines fashioned a head-hoop made from a coat hanger and duct tape. She bent the wire so it would fit over her head and rest on her ears, then she made it larger for Cray.

  The second part of the project involved marrying the hoop to the shotgun with duct tape, and securing a left-handed glove to the shotgun butt, being careful to leave her trigger finger free.

  By the time Raines finished it looked as though her hand was inextricably connected to the 12 gauge—even though she could remove it without difficulty. And that would be important later.

  Having completed her preparations, all Raines could do was eat a candy bar, sip water, and wait. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard three clicks on her radio. That meant Cray’s motorcade had passed Peavey’s hiding place and was ten minutes away.

  Raines stood and did some stretches to prepare herself. She was performing a mental run through when muffled voices were heard. Raines peered through the door crack as Lilly entered the bedroom closely followed by Cray.

  Raines’s heart beat like a trip hammer as she pushed the door open, took one pace forward, and fired the Taser. Cray collapsed as 50,000 volts of electricity surged through his nervous system. His muscles froze and he was helpless.

  Lilly just stood there, eyes huge, as Raines went to work. “Don’t worry,” Raines told her. “Your father sent me, and he’s waiting for us. Get rid of the high heels and the dress. The ability to move freely is more important than your modesty.”

  Lilly seemed to be frozen in place. She was pretty, very pretty, and Raines felt a flash of jealousy. “Move,” Raines said sternly. “Or do you want Cray to rape you?”

  That did the trick. Lilly began to strip as Raines pulled Cray’s face mask off. The man was Joel Wazinski all right… The misshapen skull and the facial warts made him easy to recognize. The guru thing was a scam.

  Wazinski was stronger than she was, and Raines knew that the effects of the tasering would soon wear off. She hurried to slap a piece of tape over Wazinski’s mouth before rolling him over and securing his wrists with zip ties.

  Wazinski began to struggle as Raines cut the oxygen tanks free. “I know you can hear me,” she told him. “I’m a bounty hunter. And you know what that means. Do what I say or I’ll kill you, slice an ear off, and cash it in. Got it?”

  That wasn’t entirely true of course, since Raines wouldn’t be able to escape the compound without him. But Wazinski didn’t know that. Not yet anyway. He moved his legs as if to get up. “Stop it,” Raines said. “Or you’ll be sorry.”

  All Wazinski could do was sit and fume as Raines placed the metal hoop over his head and slipped her hand into the glove. “Okay, you can stand now. Can you feel the weight? That’s a double-barreled shotgun. It’s attached to your head, both hammers are on full cock, and I taped my left hand to the butt. If you try to run, or a guard shoots me, it’s all over. Lilly, open the door and stay close. Let’s go.”

  Wazinski couldn’t bolt, not without killing himself, and took tiny steps. Two guards and both wives were seated in the great room. They stared as a half-naked Lilly appeared followed by Wazinski and Raines. “Don’t bother to get up,” Raines said. “Not unless you want me to blow your boss’s brains out. You, the guy with the radio, call your buddies. Tell them to stand down.” The man with the radio made no effort to comply.

  Raines was holding the Glock in her right hand. She fired. The bullet shattered the lamp behind the couch. “Do it,” Raines growled. “Or I’ll put the next bullet in you.”

  He did it. Raines ordered Lilly to open the front door, nudged Wazinski forward, and followed along behind. And that was when Ruby crashed through the gate backend first. There were three reasons for that. The first was protect the truck’s radiator, the second was to make the loading process faster, and the third was to ensure a fast getaway.

  After jumping out of the 4x4, Peavey rushed back to open the rear door and the cage inside the truck. “Crawl in,” Raines ordered, and the Waz did as he was told.

  Raines jerked the hoop off at the very last moment, gave Wazinski a shove, and slammed the door. He made mmmfff sounds as the lock snapped closed.

  With her back to the guards Raines closed the hatch, dashed forward, and slid behind the wheel. Peavey was in the back by then, with Lilly at his side. Raines shifted and put her foot down. Gravel flew as the rat rod took off. The guards gave chase. But even though the pickup trucks were armed with machine guns the men couldn’t fire them without endangering Cray.

  How long would the chase last, Raines wondered? She glanced at the gas gauge. The needle was on full. Could she make it to the Redemption Center in San Manuel without stopping? That would be ideal. But any hope of an uncontested escape flew out the window when a roadblock appeared up ahead. “Uh, oh,” Peavey said. “The guards are in contact with Monitor Hughes!”

  That made sense. Raines could stop, or attempt to blow through. The second choice was clearly the better of the two, because once stopped, it would be impossible to get going again. “Hang on!” Raines said, as she put her foot down. “We’re going through.”

  The roadblock consisted of a car and a pickup parked nose-to-nose about three feet apart. Cult members scattered as the 4x4 roared towards them, and bullets smashed the windshield as Ruby hit the barricade. There was a crash followed by the screech of rubber when both vehicles were forced to part. Ruby paused, but only for a moment, as the resistance disappeared. Then she was off again. There was no pursuit this time, and Raines was celebrating that fact, when Peavey tapped her shoulder. “We have a problem.”

  Raines frowned. “What kind of a problem? Is Lilly okay?”

  “Yes, she is,” Peavey replied. “But a bullet hit Wazinski in the head. He’s dead.”

  Raines looked at him in the rearview mirror. “I thought you said we have a problem.”

  Peavey grinned. “My mistake. Never mind.”

  They arrived in San Manuel three hours later. And, after dropping the Peavey’s off at their trailer, Raines drove to the Redemption Center. Deputy Burns was on duty. “Hey, Mel… What’s it been? A week? We’re gonna run out of fugitives at this rate. Who did you nail?”

  “Joel Wazinski,” Raines said, as she got out.

  Burns produced a low whistle. “The Waz! What are you going to do with all that cash?”

  “Fix my truck.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah… Boring, huh?”

  “Crazy is more like it,” Burns replied. “Well, let
’s get on with it.”

  It took both of them to carry Wazinski’s body to the fridge. Then it was time to say goodbye, climb behind the wheel, and look at herself in the mirror. Snakeskin looked back at her. Their eyes met. Neither one of them flinched.

  A SEED PLANTED

  CARINA BISSETT

  THE LAST TIME THE PORTAL opened, it did so high above the heads of millions of people going about their ordinary lives in an ordinary world. The media filled the networks with images and suppositions, but Kaliya disconnected the coverage with a decisive click. Despite what some people thought, it had happened before. She had read her father’s reports. A ghost ship sailing through the sands of the Sahara Desert. Hanging gardens filled with vividly colored flowers floating down the Amazon River. Towers strung with enormous bells clamoring a strident alarm in the mountains of Nepal. However, unlike the most recent event, those sightings were fairly easy to cover up with cleverly crafted stories.

  “Optical illusions,” the officials and scientists said, again and again. “Stacked spatial refractions. Atmospheric phenomenon related to thermal inversion. Mirage. Fata Morgana.”

  Kaliya knew better. The thin places between Earth and the shadow planet Ketu were expanding, stretched to a membrane no thicker than the sheen of a soap bubble rising through the air. Over the course of the latest three minute and thirty-three second event, a drift of golden seeds had rained down from the sky. Before long, the tenuous borders between worlds would fail entirely. Kaliya wasn’t about to let that happen. She would make her father’s dreams of sovereignty come true. She would be the one of his daughters to succeed where the others had failed. She would find the key to closing the portal to Ketu forever. And maybe, just maybe, he would forgive her, and love her as he once had, the way he loved Beatrice still.

  Illustration by NICOLÁS R. GIACONDINO

  She tugged at the glove on her right hand, freeing each finger from its silken confines. Once she’d peeled the material away from her pale green skin, Kaliya pressed her hand against the access panel. It flashed purple, acknowledging her as one of Dr. Hawthorn’s daughters. The door clicked open and she removed her palm as the panel began to pulse with a red warning light. A mist of antitoxins and sterilizers clouded the panel, obscuring the accusatory warnings. Kaliya scowled at the reminder and sheathed her hand with her glove, effectively creating a barrier between herself and anyone she might come in contact with.