Galefire III : Tether War

by Kenny Soward

  His asshole sister adapted well to Earth, that was for sure.

  They went to the fence and Crash immediately snipped it with the cutters. In a few seconds, he’d cut a long enough slit to push back the sharp parts and let the other two slide through.

  Lonnie trotted in the direction of the storage facility, moving through the woods and across a small field before he saw the roof of the place peeking through the trees in the distance.

  “There it is. Keep low and quiet.”

  There was another fence directly surrounding the facility, further protected by stiff, rough-limbed evergreen trees. Crash and Lonnie cut the branches until they had a pretty good sized opening. Lonnie’s nose stung with the fresh scent of evergreen as he worked, his mind starting to drift to where it always did. To Selix.

  He wondered how she would have handled this little operation. Well, first of all, she’d probably never have even tried, because Crash was absolutely right. They’d been exposing themselves a lot recently, and this would only make it worse. They should be trying to find a place to hunker down, preferably in the midst of other criminals like themselves.

  Only problem was, they likely wouldn’t have much luck there either. Not these days.

  But honestly, Lonnie had no idea what else he could to. He was caught between wanting to get the gang back on track again and reaching some kind of closure about Selix being dead and gone, the two options seeming mutually exclusive. How could he move them forward when he couldn’t stop thinking about the past?

  They clipped their way through the evergreens and more fence, pushing their tools and empty backpacks ahead of them.

  On the other side, Ingrid stood and peered around. There was a huge row of storage doors right in front of them, about twenty or thirty, and no idea which ones had the good stuff and which were just junk. “Any idea where we should start?”

  “No clue. Let’s just start at one end and work our way down.”

  As they angled left toward the end of the row, Lonnie caught sight of two cameras mounted to light poles all around the place. He couldn’t tell if they were working or not, but he had to assume they were. Then again, he knew some places put up non-working cameras as a deterrent because a real security service was too expensive. Either way, they couldn’t leave empty-handed. They had to try a couple of the storage rooms, at least. Lonnie figured they had about ten minutes or so before anyone caught up to them.

  “Okay,” he gestured at the one on the end. “This one first. Ingrid, can you go up top and keep an eye on the entrance?”

  “Yes.” There was a flash of wings, and Lonnie just caught sight of a pair of pale legs before the whorchal disappeared up. What if someone caught that on camera? Cardinal rule of being a fade ripper, you didn’t let Earthers know you were a fade ripper. Not in any way, shape, or form.

  Oh well, another fuck up. But who was counting?

  Crash snapped the steel lock, tossed it, and lifted the rolling door with a clatter.

  It revealed a room filled with variously colored storage bins stacked two or three high. Whoever owned this one was incredibly organized. Good, should make it easier.

  Starting on one end while crash worked at the other, Lonnie pulled the first bin down, whipped off the plastic lid, and found it full of various cardboard stationary that folded out into popcorn boxes, hotdog holders, and paper cups. The next bin below that one had three napkin dispensers. Looking askance, he saw Crash was having the same luck.

  “Okay, this is just vendor shit. Let’s move to next one.”

  Crash moved on while Lonnie threw all the stuff back inside and closed the door.

  The next room proved to be a little better. The same styles of bins, only these were filled with old computer systems, hand scanners, and other odds and ends like power cords and such. They did find a small bin full of two-way radios that might come in handy down the line so Lonnie threw those in his pack.

  “All right. On to the next one.”

  They repeated the process two more times, not finding anything of use. In fact, this entire row seemed to be filled with stuff related to the running of the flee market. Folding tables and chairs, containers, janitorial equipment, and a bunch of other bullshit that wouldn’t do them a bit of good. Lonnie was starting to wonder if maybe it was purposefully setup this way.

  And the entire time, the hair on the back of Lonnie’s neck stood on end. He expected police sirens to wail at any moment.

  In his head, he saw Selix nodding. The good stuff is probably either in the middle or closer to flea market driveway. You know, that would be more convenient for them.

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “What is it?” Crash stood up and stretched his back. Not that they were exerting themselves too much, but being cramped in that van for hours on end could get you good and kinked up.

  “They wouldn’t have put their good stuff right by the fence. It would be further in, closer to the middle, or on the far end.”

  Where all the cameras probably did work.

  “Okay. Can we risk it?”

  Further in meant a longer jog out, probably pursued by cop cars the whole way.

  But he was sure the better shit was further in. Most definitely.

  Lonnie called up to Ingrid to confirm there wasn’t any activity happening along the highway or up the drive. There was an impassable automatic barrier that would need to go up before any traffic could come into the place. As long as Ingrid kept an eye on that, they should have plenty of warning.

  “We’re going two buildings down. Got it?”

  His partners in crime acknowledged they did, in fact, have it, and he and Crash sprinted to the next building while Ingrid launched herself from rooftop to rooftop, beating them there by a good few seconds.

  Lonnie called up. “Just keep an eye on that barrier.”

  “Got it, Lons!” And Lonnie listened as the whorchal’s boots sprinted across the roof.

  The very first storage room was a damn sight better than what they’d seen in the first few, but still nothing they could use. These were old antiques of various shapes and sizes. Lamps made out of logs. Bins full of fancy-looking dishes. Picture frames far too bulky to put into their packs. Junk.

  “Next.”

  They hit the jackpot on this one. The first few bins were full of iPhone and Android cases for various models. They tore past those, Lonnie’s heart pounding and eager now, and got to the middle as fast as they could, which yielded…

  Bingo!

  Boxes of brand new smart phones. Every lid they flipped up revealed a dozen in each bin. Probably fifty or more in total with even more boxes of expensive headsets and other accessories. Literally too much to carry as-is.

  Lonnie was so stunned he couldn’t think of what to do next. Should they start unboxing the merchandise so they could get more into their packs? Or should they just start tossing them in, boxes and all?

  Unboxing them would take too long and would also leave the merchandise open to damage, so the obvious answer was to just start throwing the boxes into their packs.

  They did just that, Lonnie feeling an oddness about the act like he always did. He’d never considered himself a petty thief, and even Elsa and Ingrid’s killing was tolerable…they needed blood to live. But stealing. It just seemed so much lower for some reason. Done on the sly, it was something you did to another person in secret because you didn’t have the balls to do it to them face to face.

  It made him feel like a coward, which he hated most of all.

  Crash stood up, looking like a big black Santa Claus with the bulging sack hosted over his shoulder. “That’s all I can fit in this one.”

  Lonnie stood too, his own backpack bulging with goods, heavy on his shoulder. “I think this is good. Let’s just go. We can make some deals with this—”

  “Freeze and drop that shit!”

  The cop’s voice was like a lighting bolt in the relative quiet.

  Shit.

  Lonnie turn
ed around slowly, saw the officer standing three or four feet back from the entrance in a perfect firing pose. His flashlight was bundled up in the same grip as his pistol, shining light right into Lonnie’s eyes.

  “I said fucking drop it! Drop it and step out of the facility!”

  The guy was intense. Lonnie could smell his sweat and aggression from where he stood. One wrong move and Lonnie had no doubt he’d be dodging lead soon enough.

  “Look, officer. We don’t want any trouble.”

  “I will shoot you if you don’t drop the packs and put your hands up. Right fucking now! Do it!”

  The guy was off the hook, but Lonnie couldn’t blame him. It was a tense fucking situation. Them not doing as they were told, and this guy with his 9mm pointed right at (judging by the new angle of the flashlight) Crash.

  “Just calm down, man,” Crash said.

  “You fucking calm down and do what I tell you to do.” The cop’s voice was loud and clear, nearly screaming. “I’m going to count to three and you better drop that shit, put your hands up, and walk the fuck out of—”

  Ingrid’s form dropped from above, slamming into the officer and sending him sprawling.

  Lonnie and Crash raced from the storage room, Ingrid grabbing the unconscious cop’s gun and hurling it away as they ran.

  “What the fuck happened?”

  “You told me to keep an eye on the barrier. And I did. But they were very sneaky this time, Lons. They came on foot from the market side. I didn’t even hear them.”

  “Damn!”

  They sprinted past the first building and made a direct line for the slit in the fence and evergreens.

  “Let’s just try to get out of here without anyone getting hurt.

  “Freeze! Stop!”

  Cops behind them, their commands were underpinned by their running footsteps.

  Of course, the gang didn’t stop.

  Crash was the first through to the gap. He quickly tried to push through, but his shirt and pack got caught on the jaggedly cut fencing. Lonnie tried to help the big man, prying his caught clothing off the snags until he finally ripped through.

  The cop feet stopped running.

  “Godamn it, stop right fucking now!”

  Lonnie shoved Ingrid through the gap when the cops opened fire.

  He heard Ingrid grunt and fly straight up out of his grasp. Lonnie felt several impacts to the backpack, one bullet zipping hotly past his ear. Another sent hot pain searing through his shoulder.

  That was enough impetus to force his ass through.

  Parts of his jacket tore as he fell into the surrounding brush. He fell to his knees, got up and slammed right into another cop coming the other way. The woman had probably come down the fence line, completely missing Crash and Ingrid. She went sprawling, her gun flying from her hands.

  Still, she hollered for Lonnie to stop from where she lay on the ground.

  And then he was ripping through the woods on the way back to the van, head swiveling left and right. He caught up with Crash, Ingrid settling to the ground just behind him, giving off whimpers as she ran.

  “Are you okay, Ingrid?”

  “Yes. It only hurts.”

  Lonnie’s heart sunk as the outer fence came into view and he saw the red and blue lights flashing in the sky where their van was parked. He motioned for Ingrid to go up and over the fence while he and Crash slipped carefully through the hole they’d made.

  Guns raised, they burst from the bushes expecting to find cops everywhere.

  The van was still where they’d parked, one cop car blocking them in. Jedi and Makare seemed to be in the middle of a photo shoot nearby, Jedi bending low and snapping some pictures with Makare’s phone, then raising up on his toes to get a higher angle, all while Makare posed like some kind of ill-dressed supermodel. She held her hair up, puckered her lips, then let her hair drop as she twisted into a new pose.

  In the background…

  Lonnie lowered his weapon. “Elsa, stop!”

  The whorchal raised up from where she’d been straddling the officer, chin and lips covered in blood.

  “Sorry, Lons. I’ve just been so hungry.”

  Chapter 5

  They drove west along I-64 for fifteen minutes before getting off what looked like a lonely exit, took a right at the end of the ramp, and drove as far as they could away from civilization. Lonnie whipped the van into the first dirt road they could find, which wove them back into some deep woods where they might find some cover.

  His heart beat wildly in his chest, mind racing with the surety Elsa had killed that cop. He’d been alive when they’d left him, neck patched up with a first aid kit Ingrid had found in the cop’s car, but barely breathing and missing a pint or two of blood. If that cop died, there would be a nationwide manhunt for them and he was sure the ECC would be involved.

  That would mean the end of the Eighth Streeters.

  Damn.

  Down another dirt road, Lonnie saw an old barn resting just off a driveway, the original house sitting in front looking run down and abandoned. He pulled the van behind the barn and parked it, shutting off the lights and engine. Soon they were sitting in near silence, listening to the cooling tick of the engine beneath the soft glow of cell phone light from the very back seats.

  “At least the cop was still alive.”

  “He might not be now, Lons,” Ingrid said, confirming his own thoughts on the matter.

  “I know,” Lonnie replied, “and if he’s dead, then there’s going to be a fucking A.P.B out on us fucking pronto.”

  Ingrid and Crash were in the next seat back, seeing to Ingrid’s wounds. Despite the pain of a bullet in the small of her back, the whorchal was livid. The floor of the van was covered in black whorchal blood. “There’s going to be one of those either way, Lons. It’s probably already been issued. They’ll be looking for us.”

  For the first time since Selix’s death, Lonnie was truly afraid. It was one thing to be hated by their own kind and forced into seclusion, but in assaulting an officer, maybe even killing one, they’d crossed the line.

  Bess had warned him about it when they’d last spoke. “Don’t kill any cops,” she’d said.

  Lonnie hadn’t intended to get anyone hurt, but the cops had shot at them first! The three of them had been running away when those trigger-happy assholes went off. That wasn’t his only fear. He knew he’d been a shitty leader, denying responsibility for their welfare and being negligently indecisive. They could have left him, should have left him.

  The might leave him now.

  And maybe part of him, that part of him that was in complete denial, thought that if things got bad enough, if he let things slip all the way to the bottom, Selix would somehow come back and make things right. But that was never going to happen.

  Lonnie opened his eyes and realized his hands were pins and needles from gripping the wheel so hard. He glanced over to see Elsa in the passenger seat, looking like a sad little blood-covered girl.

  She held out her hands helplessly. “I’m sorry, Lons. I’m just not the same.”

  “Neither am I,” he said, his voice a growl. “And I’m sorry to all of you. Sorry, I’ve been fucking up so much. I just…” Lonnie clamped his mouth shut before he admitted something he’d regret.

  The truth, so fucking hard to get out.

  “None of us have been the same,” Crash said. “Not since she died.”

  Makare put her phone down for a moment, those pale pink eyes looking over the seats at everyone. “You know, this is perfect. I couldn’t have plotted a more satisfying moment if I’d worked at it for a century.”

  Lonnie glared at his sister in the rear view mirror. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Makare removed her knee from the seat in front of her and put her feet on the floor, straightening out so she could properly see over all the seats. A coy smile played across her lips as she studied each one in turn. “When I realized I was beaten and was to be your captive,
when I realized just how awful this would be, I became despondent, suicidal even. And those thoughts often warred with anger and rage, an intense desire to get revenge on all of you before finding my way back to Xester. I plotted so many ways I would separate you from those curious little needles you’re always poking into your skin. I’ve been watching you intently for so long that I’d be quite the expert at shooting up.

  “But then I noticed just how badly you were unraveling. Especially you, dear brother. To know that your precious Selix is gone and you can never get her back. Well, I found my sense of purpose. And the best part was, all I had to do was…nothing.”

  Makare smiled and sat back in her seat, burying her nose in her cell phone.

  It had to be incredibly satisfying for her watching her brother and all of his dark moments, his mistakes, laid bare for her to chew like the sweetest of cakes. No fucking wonder she’d been so damn well-behaved and keen to smile. She was basking in the light of his failure, and he’d been spoon feeding it to her moment by moment.

  Lonnie got out of the van, spun, and slammed the door shut, walking out into an old field that hadn’t been plowed in years. His head spun and there was an ache at the back of his skull.

  He turned around, looked at the van that was their world. The only other place they owned was a rundown trailer in Northern Kentucky near the river. That was supposed to be home, but it wasn’t a home at all. He was trapped. They were trapped.

  “Lons.”

  He stiffened, trying to hide his sulking.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  Elsa put her hand on his shoulder. “All this bravado when you’re not feeling brave at all. When you are very sad and want to scream into the darkness. When you want to find answers as to why things happened the way they did, and why we’re so screwed up.”

  Lonnie protested, but then his shoulders sagged and he fell to his knees beneath her light touch. The smell of dirt on a chilly breeze reminding him of the time they lost her. “I’m so fucking tired. Just so…”