Hounding The Moon: A Tess Noncoire Adventure

by P. R. Frost

  Scrap winked out.

  I held my ground.

  “You have entered a restricted area. Get into your car and leave immediately,” a voice boomed from speakers mounted on the skids of the helicopter.

  I stared at the black whirling machine above me, slightly stunned by the wash of noise and that we had seen no signs restricting the area outside the fence.

  “Come on, Tess, we’ve got to get out of here.” Gollum beckoned me.

  Of course, the military and the SWAT teams would have cleared the area if they expected a firefight to remove Donovan’s “Indians.”

  I took one step toward the car.

  The demons emerged from the hidden door once more.

  I pointed furiously at the activity, willing the officials in the helicopter to look in that direction.

  A hideous buzzing noise erupted from a bulb on the front of the helicopter along with a sizzling blue light.

  Incredible lancing fire assailed every muscle in my body. I collapsed in a writhing blob of pain.

  Disaster! I can’t find my babe’s mind.

  Medic!

  Oh, my, what do I do?

  She’s gone. I can see her body. But her mind is gone. Worse than before she had the imp flu. She can’t reach me. I can’t reach her.

  It’s as if she no longer exists. Has she died?

  Without her I will die.

  Without me she will die.

  I feel myself fading.

  Is this the end?

  Chapter 29

  “LIEUTENANT, THIS REACTION isn’t normal,” a disembodied voice said into the chaos that had become my mind.

  “Keep her restrained, corporal. Medics are on their way,” a deeper voice growled.

  I tried to ask what had happened. My mind and voice seemed disconnected. Every muscle in my body seemed disconnected from the rest of me.

  If this was a dream, I didn’t want to trust it.

  “She’s still twitching and unresponsive, lieutenant,” the first voice said. “That’s not normal. Instructions on that weapon say that victims should return to normal within thirty seconds of the blast.”

  “This is a prototype, not the standard police issue taser,” the second voice, the lieutenant’s, said.

  Okay. That sizzling blue light and hideous buzzing was a taser. Some kind of super-duper taser designed for military use. I made that much sense of the conversation.

  Coherence began to return to my thoughts. But my muscles still twitched and ached and refused to listen to the rest of me.

  Muffled grunts and thumping came from my left. I tried to turn my head but failed to make the connection.

  “Lieutenant, the other vic is trying to say something. He might have information as to why the lady had such an abnormal reaction to the taser.”

  “Keep him restrained and gagged. These two are obviously terrorists connected to the hostiles inside Fort Snoqualmie.” The lieutenant brooked no interference with his orders.

  The other “vic” must be Gollum. I wasn’t alone. But where was Scrap? I could really use his ears and eyes right now.

  A door opened and then closed. I managed to focus my eyes long enough to see a rectangle of brighter white around the door for just a few seconds. Then there was a shifting of bodies, a rustle of clothing, and boots scraping on a vinyl floor.

  That told me I’d been moved from the casino site. Indoors somewhere. That would account for the lack of background noise, especially the roar of helicopters.

  Hands upon my wrist. The cold metal mouth of a stethoscope on my chest beneath my sweater.

  “Vitals are normal,” a new voice said. Probably the medic the lieutenant and corporal expected. “Must have been some strange and individual neurological reaction to the taser frequency. She’ll come around eventually. I’ll shoot her full of tranquilizers before she hurts herself with those convulsions.”

  No drugs! Scrap screeched in my ear.

  “No,” I managed to squeak.“No drugs.” I had strange reactions to drugs since the fever that marked me as a Warrior of the Celestial Blade. Maybe the fever had changed other things in my brain as well.

  Tranquilizers will kill us, babe.

  I couldn’t see Scrap. I should. Why couldn’t I see Scrap?

  Because you’re only half alive and so am I.

  “Sorry, miss. This will make you feel better, and keep you from hurting yourself.”

  I concentrated very hard on getting out the next few crucial words. “Drugs make worse. I’m weird,” I choked.

  “Huh?”

  “The lady said no drugs. Now put that syringe away,” Gollum said in his most clipped accent, as if speaking to a child.

  How did he get loose from the gag?

  “Really, sir,” the medic protested.

  Then I heard the sounds of someone choking, a scuffle, shouts. A clump. A body fell hard across my middle.

  I forced my eyes open. Gollum lay across me, glasses askew, silver-gilt hair tangled, muscles limp.

  Suddenly my body stopped twitching and my mind connected everything up.

  I rolled out from under Gollum and came up to my knees, elbows out, ready to jab someone in the throat.

  Handcuffs hindered my movements but didn’t stop me.

  The medic and the lieutenant lay collapsed upon the carpeted floor. The corporal—I presumed the youngest of the trio with two stripes on his camouflage jacket was the corporal—cowered against the metal wall of the small room. He held his pistol—a long and wickedlooking instrument—by the barrel. He must have used the butt to hit Gollum over the head.

  An ugly lump bled a little on the back of my friend’s head. Gollum’s face looked a little raw, like someone had rubbed it with sandpaper—or ripped off a wad of duct tape.

  Corporal Bolo, at least I thought that was the name embroidered on the pocket of his fatigues, gulped and tried to disappear into the wall.

  He was mortal and mundane and couldn’t get any farther away from me.

  “Don’t let him hurt me, lady,” he pleaded.

  What had Gollum done to put the fear of God into this boy? This military corporal who still had a gun!

  “Get these handcuffs off me, and we’ll leave you mostly intact,” I replied, trying to sound a lot fiercer than I was. He had the gun after all, even though he still held it by the barrel.

  Nice try, babe, but I wouldn’t be afraid of you, Scrap sneered from the region of my left shoulder. He was back.

  I’d never been so grateful for his smelly, rude, nosy presence in my life.

  Glad to have you back, babe. Wondered if we’d survive this.

  “Who… who’s smoking?” the corporal asked. “This is a nonsmoking area. We’ve got a lot of sensitive equipment and… and firepower stored here.” He stared at his own gun and fumbled it around until he finally pointed the business end roughly in my direction.

  I rolled my eyes at Scrap. Toss the cigar, imp. You’re more trouble than you’re worth. Where have you been?

  No answer, but the cigar smoke disappeared.

  “Just get these handcuffs off me. Please.”

  I looked down upon Gollum’s sprawled figure. He’d be uncomfortable with his restrained hands tucked under him in that awkward position. If he were conscious.

  That lump on the back of his head looked painful.

  “And off my friend, too.”

  “Look, lady. We were just doing our job. You’re terrorists. We can’t let you loose.” Corporal Bolo’s chin quivered a bit and his voice threatened to crack.

  “What makes you think we’re terrorists, Bolo?” I asked as I did my best to stand up. My knees were still a little weak and my balance sucked, but I made it upright without falling over. I held out my hands as if I expected the man to produce a key and release me.

  “You… you sneaked up behind us in a white SUV rental. That’s a profile car.”

  “Sheesh!” I rolled my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

  “I’m a novelist d
oing research. The white SUV was the only rental available in Tri-Cities.”

  “Is that why you had a case of books in the back of the SUV?”

  “Duh.”

  Gollum groaned. His eyelids fluttered open. He looked at me, unfocused and puzzled. Then his face cleared of befuddlement and he reached a hand to touch his wound. But his hands were still cuffed together. He moaned and lay still again. But his eyes remained open, searching, taking in every detail within his range.

  He was no normal professor-type geek. I knew he hadn’t told me his entire life story and I began to wonder just what he wanted to keep secret. And why.

  The medic and the lieutenant also began to wake up.

  They grabbed their throats and coughed shallowly several times before completely rousing.

  Before I could think of a way to talk myself out of this mess, the door to the outside banged open.

  “Get in there, you terrorist bastard!” a Marine sergeant shouted as he shoved Donovan inside the tiny hut. A quick glance told me this was a portable trailer moved on site—probably painted camouflage—as a command center.

  Donovan stumbled up the one step to the inside, cursing and spitting blood. His shoulders hung at an awkward angle with his hands cuffed behind him. Blood dripped from his split lip, his left eye had nearly swollen shut. The bruising would become a rainbow of colors before long. His white shirt was ripped at the shoulder seam and filthy. A jagged cut showed through the torn knee of his dress slacks. He looked like he’d been beaten, rolled in the mud, and hung out to dry.

  Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

  So why was he still the sexiest man in the trailer?

  Ta, babe! Too much demon smell in here. He’s been around demons. I gotta go find them. Scrap winked out.

  “Tess, thank God you’re okay,” Donovan gushed. He winced as he dropped to his knees beside me.

  “Traitor!” I hissed. Hard to do without any esses in the word, but I managed.

  Gollum grinned, then quickly blanked his expression again. He still surveyed the room warily from his position at my feet.

  Scrap pressed his nose against the tiny window above the door from the outside.

  “What?” I mouthed to him.

  I’ll say something when I’ve got something to say, babe. He chomped on a cigar but didn’t light it. You’re not bleeding, I can go scout around for you.

  Stay right where you are, I ordered him.

  He left anyway. But that’s Scrap, as independent as I.

  He couldn’t get along with the other imps any better than I got along with the Sisters who partnered them.

  “I couldn’t help it, Tess. They kidnapped me. They forced me to be their spokesman,” Donovan continued his litany of innocence.

  He was so sincere I almost believed him. Almost. We had a lot of trust issues to work out.

  “Define ‘they,’ ” Bolo barked, finally gaining courage in the presence of backup.

  “That mob of crazed youngsters who think they can take on the world and win,” Donovan spat, literally. A wad of blood and spittle and a tooth came out of his mouth. It looked like a normal human tooth.

  “So why didn’t they keep you?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” He had the grace to look abashed and drop his gaze.

  “Did the demons do this to you or the Marines?”

  Gollum whispered.

  “The Marines.” He was silent a moment, then looked at us both in surprise. “Demons?” he mouthed.

  “They aren’t exactly Indians.” I smiled too sweetly.

  Donovan shook his head. “They are Indians. I’ve known a lot of them all my life.”

  “I don’t doubt you’ve known them most of your life.”

  Standoff. “How’d they force you if they didn’t beat you?”

  “They threatened to burn the casino. I’ve got every dime I own tied up in that project. One more delay, one more bad inspection and I’m ruined.” He looked up with those big dark eyes framed by beautifully long lashes and pleaded with me to believe him.

  My heart, and my innards threatened to melt under those eyes.

  “Don’t believe him,” Gollum muttered as he struggled to sit.

  “Well, I don’t believe any of you,” the lieutenant sneered. He sat on a typing chair in front of a console full of monitors and keyboards.

  I ignored the tactical displays because I didn’t understand them and didn’t have the concentration to figure them out.

  “We’ve got to bust out of here,” Donovan whispered.

  I was sure everyone in the trailer heard him. The sergeant just leaned against the door and grinned, inviting us to try. He wanted to hit someone almost as much as I did.

  “Not on your life, Donovan. We stay put until these people realize that they made a terrible mistake and release us. I’m not spending the rest of my life on the run from the U.S. government. I have a life and a career.” I sank down to sit cross-legged next to Gollum.

  He still didn’t look real healthy. His complexion remained pasty, and his eyes still rolled out of focus occasionally.

  “If you two are so innocent, how come tall and lanky attacked us?” The lieutenant leaned forward, almost falling off his chair.

  “The medic wouldn’t listen. He was going to give Tess a drug that would kill her,” Gollum replied. He looked the lieutenant directly in the eye. Few people could do that and lie effectively. “Sweetheart, we’ve got to get you a medical bracelet so emergency personnel know which drugs you’re allergic to.” Gollum patted my cuffed hands with his own cuffed hands.

  I wanted to snarl at him that I wasn’t his sweetheart.

  He frowned at me until I almost heard him beg me to play along.

  Reluctantly I decided to let him lead the way. Maybe he had a plan. I sure didn’t.

  Chapter 30

  THE DOOR RATTLED. We all looked to see how many more bodies wanted to squeeze into the trailer.

  “Background checks coming in on monitor four, lieutenant,” a private said as he poked his head inside. He looked askance at all of us, counted bodies, sitting and standing, on the floor and at the workstations, then backed out.

  Lieutenant Vlieger (thank the Goddess these guys all wore name tags) swung around on his chair and clicked a mouse. The center monitor flashed a picture of me—my most flattering publicity photo with soft lighting and fuzzy edges that disguised my untidy hair and imperfect makeup—along with a bunch of text.

  Vlieger switched his gaze from me to the monitor, peering ever closer to both. “I guess that could be you,” he finally admitted.

  “Well, thanks,” I said. Sarcasm dripped from my words thicker than it did from Scrap at his most polite.

  “Your hair is quite a bit lighter now,” he said half apologetically.

  “Women dye their hair,” I returned. Only I hadn’t. It had only gotten lighter since I’d been wearing the comb.

  I wondered if the translucent hairs it pulled out were the transformed darker strands, leaving only the fairer blond ones.

  That comb was certainly weird. Wish I knew what its magic purpose was.

  Vlieger scrolled down the screen until he came across the cover to my book. “You wrote this?” He pointed.

  “Every last word.”

  “Guess that explains the case of them we found in the back of the SUV.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t think I’m going to give you an autographed copy,” I muttered. “That is, if you can read.”

  “Easy, Tess, we want him on our side,” Gollum whispered and patted my hand. He was getting too used to that proprietary gesture.

  “May I check your blood pressure again?” the medic asked, almost meekly. He held up a cuff.

  I nodded and held out my arms.

  He maneuvered around our sprawled legs until he could crouch beside me. While he pumped up the cuff and monitored a digital readout, Vlieger continued to read every word of my bio.

  “Sheesh, not even a traffic ticke
t,” Vlieger said out loud. “What are these organizations you belong to? They might be subversive.”

  “A bunch of writers banding together so they can have legal advocacy funds and medical insurance are very subversive,” I replied.

  He scrolled further down. I guess he found explanations for the acronyms for romance authors, science fiction writers, and novelists in general.

  “If you are so squeaky clean, Ms. Noncoiré, then why did you disappear for a year?” He tapped a blank portion of the screen.

  “I was in retreat while I researched and wrote that damn book.”

  “Right after a dubious marriage.”

  “My marriage to Dillwyn Cooper was legal, binding, and…” I choked. “And real.”

  “Easy, Ms. Noncoiré,” Medic Lawrence soothed. He pulled me back down into the sitting position. “Your blood pressure just rose sixty points. That’s not good.”

  “Did her blood pressure go up because she was lying?” Vlieger looked hopeful.

  “This isn’t a lie detector,” Lawrence said. He was too calm, too collected, too bland.

  I didn’t trust him. That blood pressure cuff just might be the latest thing in lie detection.

  “She was really mad at you for questioning her marriage. My educated guess is that she was telling the truth.” Lawrence kept his eyes on his equipment, not meeting Vlieger’s malevolent gaze.

  Vlieger turned back to his screens. “Homeland Security says you’re clean, Ms Noncoiré. I trust that you aren’t a terrorist or security risk. Take the cuffs off her and let her go.”

  “What about Gol… Guilford?” I figured they wouldn’t appreciate his nickname. Or understand it.

  “We’ll get to him.” Vlieger clicked the mouse and read silently.

  We waited.

  He muttered and snarled to himself.

  We waited some more. And fidgeted.

  “What haven’t you told me about yourself?” I asked sweetly. Too sweetly.

  Gollum shrugged. “I practice tai chi every morning.”

  He smiled weakly, apologetically.

  Scrap peered through the window again. Gollum smoked marijuana in college. Says so right on the screen, Scrap chortled. They’re gonna put him away for ten years for that!