by Jamie Davis
“Who the hell are you and where is Clara?”
“Ah, straight to the point. That is my error. I was told your kind appreciated something called small talk. I’ll get straight to the point.”
Kurt continued to assess the intruder and studied the individual more carefully. It took him a moment but he found the discrepancy that had been nagging at the back of his mind after a few seconds.
The eyes. His handlers and trainers in special ops had told him to always check the eyes.
In this case, upon closer examination, this guy’s eyes were wrong, inhuman. He had vertical slit pupils like a cat did and the color of the iris was a bright yellow. He should have picked up on both things immediately but he’d been too worried about Clara to think straight.
He could beat himself up about that lapse in his training later, now he needed to focus on who this guy was and why he appeared here in his apartment and wanted to have a conversation with Kurt.
“Small talk is something that happens in friendlier situations. Breaking into my apartment doesn’t qualify, I’m afraid. Now, who are you?”
“My name is Cathedorprinast. I’m the prime factor for his lordship, General Barand. I’m sorry for the damage to your abode. I must point out that we were quite within our rights under the agreement we had with the woman. She’s your former mate, is that correct?”
“It is.”
“By defaulting on the delivery, your former mate became the collateral for its exchange at a later date.”
“You may have made that agreement but that gives you no right here in my apartment. That agreement was between you and her, not me.”
“Unfortunately, under the rules of my society, once you offered her hospitality, you undertook her debts and responsibilities.”
The stranger shook his head and continued before Kurt could answer.
“You really should have been told about the arrangement. However, I suspect your mates here are much like ours. They do like to play their little games.”
“I’m not discussing the various wiles of human women with you, Cathedor—. Aw hell, I can’t pronounce your name. You know what? I’m just gonna call you Cat. Now, tell me where she is.”
The stranger nodded and smiled. “You have my permission to shorten my name if you wish. As for your former mate, she is safe and will remain so for a period of three days, according to the agreement she signed in ink containing her own blood. After that time, her disposition is entirely up to my employer.”
“How can I buy her out of debt?”
“That which is legally ours must be delivered as agreed upon.”
“The sarcophagus? I’m working on it. I already have the plan to retrieve it worked out. Just return her to me and I’ll have it for you in a few days.”
“Alas, I am unable to return her to you at this time. She is already on her way to my world. It will be difficult to return her here or even to communicate with those transporting her. I’m afraid the only way to secure her return is to deliver the sacred idol, what you’re calling the sarcophagus, within the next three days.”
“Maybe I should beat her current location out of you. I know she can’t be through the gate to your world yet. From what she told me, that gate is near Atlanta and that’s at least eight hours away from here. Tell me where she is and I’ll go easy on you.”
“She did say you’d be stubborn about this,” Cat said, a broad grin appearing on his face. “It is a shame I cannot oblige you. I think it would be fun to test my skills against yours. I have never fought a warrior from your world before. It should be enlightening. Perhaps when we meet in person, we can arrange a match and decide the victor.”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘meet in person?’”
The smile broadened showing Kurt the double row of pointed teeth filling Cat’s mouth. It looked sort of like the multiple rows of teeth sharks had.
As he looked at the figure on his couch, Kurt realized why he didn’t seem quite right. The man cast no shadow. His eyes narrowed as he realized Cat wasn’t really there. He was a projection, either magical or through some technology left behind.
“You are understanding finally, I see,” Cat said with a chuckle. He waved his hand through the air and the image started to shimmer. “I look forward to our opportunity to meet and decide the contest in person, Kurt Carter. Remember, three days. The chronometer is running.”
Kurt started to reply but the hologram faded from view before the words came out.
Darting forward to the sofa, he searched until he found the tiny three-dimensional holoprojector the size of a sesame seed. He could take it to Jonesey. She might be able to trace the source of the transmission.
He pulled out his phone to place the call then cursed. Jonesey was leaving for her trip and she wouldn’t delay it for him or anyone. There had to be something he could do to track Clara down before they transited the gate.
He searched the apartment, searching for more projectors or perhaps cameras. Now that he knew what to look for, he was able to tune one of his scanners to make the search go faster.
An hour later, after two sweeps, he’d found nothing new and had no other clues to help him follow the ones who’d taken her.
Kurt sat down and considered what he had to do. He had the approximate coordinates for the portal. Clara planned to give him final instructions later after he’d recovered the artifact from the warehouse.
Giving him three days to plan this whole operation and deliver the goods wasn’t a whole lot of time. He’d wasted enough of it searching for devices that weren’t here. He had to get moving. Racing to the closet in the hall, Kurt reached inside and pulled out his go bag with his full kit of tech and anti-magic gear plus the tactical rig he always kept packed and ready.
Shouldering the backpack, he stood in the entry hall to his apartment and considered the ruined door. There was nothing he could do about it tonight.
He checked his watch. It was already near one in the morning.
Kurt shook his head. He’d have to call the owner of the dry cleaners downstairs in the morning and have them get someone to come and fix the door. He’d reimburse them on his return.
Kurt added that to the list of things he needed to do and started down to the basement to get his truck. He’d done everything that he could do for now and needed to make up time.
Throwing the go bag in the back of the black SUV parked next to the sports car, Kurt climbed into the driver’s seat and started up the battery system. Once all the systems booted, he pulled out of the parking space and drove out onto the late night streets of Baltimore.
He turned towards the interstate and started heading south. If he made good time, he should be in Atlanta just after sunrise. Setting the autopilot, Kurt settled back to try and get some sleep. He needed to be fresh in the morning.
He drifted off to sleep and fitful dreams tormented him. They were of man-shaped demons with razor sharp teeth hovering around Clara. They stood, surrounding her, waiting as a clock counted down in the background.
Chapter 8
The alert chime wakened Kurt from a fitful sleep. While he couldn’t remember all his dreams this time, he was sure they had a lot to do with his increased worry over Clara.
The dashboard display indicated he was approaching Atlanta’s suburbs and the end of the route he’d programmed into the nav system. He wasn’t sure where the GEU’s impound warehouse was located, only that it was on the northern side of the city.
Taking over manual control from the autopilot, Kurt pulled off the interstate at the next exit and drove into the parking lot of a Waffle House. It had been a while since he’d been in one of the quintessential southern diners, so he decided to get himself some breakfast and make some additional plans while he sat to eat.
The kidnapping of Clara complicated things. To get this done in the time provided, Kurt was going to need help. As he walked into the restaurant, he brought up his comm menu and fired off some messages to Trent over several
channels to make sure he got them.
Kurt needed to see if Marci was available on short notice. He was going to need her and her gate-locating wizardry in order to get through with the sarcophagus and back again.
Given how this race of aliens apparently treated their women like chattel, he was reluctant to take Marci there. She took her independence as an individual seriously and wouldn’t respond well to a misogynistic society. He’d deal with that if and when she showed up.
Based on what Clara said was that it was a smaller gate and had gone undiscovered by the authorities so far. It was rare that gates were undocumented this long after the Incident opened all the portals between worlds and dimensions, but it still happened from time to time.
Kurt tried to put the concerns out of his mind about all the hurdles he had to overcome. Whatever was needed, he’d get Clara back safe and sound. That was all that mattered. For now, he just wanted to get a good breakfast.
The restaurant was so crowded it was filled nearly to capacity. Looking around, he took a single available stool at the counter. He liked Waffle Houses a lot, primarily because they still had human staff.
Most diners and fast food restaurants had resorted to robot labor to cook food and automated ordering since simple AIs could handle with ease the repetitive tasks like food prep and delivery.
A blonde waitress in a grease splattered polyester uniform dress leaned over the counter to put a napkin and silverware down in front of him.
“What’ll it be, sweetie?”
Kurt checked the interactive menu built into the countertop, then decided he’d order his usual selection when he got the opportunity to eat here. “Pecan waffles, side of city ham, and hash browns smothered and covered. Oh, and coffee and O.J.”
“Large or small orange juice?”
“Large, please.”
“Got it. Be right back.”
The waitress hustled off to get his drinks after passing off the order to a woman standing by the grill. She began calling out the orders to the cook.
Kurt watched the short order cook do his thing at the flattop grill directly in front of where he sat. He marveled at the guy’s ability to manage ten different things at once. It was both efficient and a show of the art of cooking that no AI or robot could replace in Kurt’s opinion.
The waitress returned and set a mug of coffee down along with a selection of sweeteners and a couple small, individual serving half and half creamer containers in a small bowl. She set the large orange juice down next to the coffee. “Food’ll be right out. Do you need anything else?”
“No, that’s all.”
She tapped out something on her datapad and the bill appeared on the interactive countertop beneath his coffee.
“The bill’s there to pay whenever you’re ready. I’ll check back after your food comes. Thanks for stopping at Waffle House.”
She left Kurt and he continued watching the cook at work. A tap on his shoulder interrupted him and he swiveled on his stool to see who it was. He froze for a second as he stared at the chest of a very large man. It wasn’t his size alone that froze Kurt in place, it was the Hell’s Gate Clan patch on the left breast pocket of the denim vest the guy wore.
“Can you pass me the plastic takeout menu there, fella. I’d like to order some stuff to take home.”
“Uh, sure,” Kurt replied passing the menu over to the gangbanger.
“Thanks.”
Turning back around, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the word hadn’t gotten out about him to all the gang’s chapters or perhaps they didn’t have a good photo of him to share. Either way, he didn’t want to be sitting there when his image popped up on the guy’s phone or datapad.
Luckily his food had come. Kurt dug in and ate quickly, not able to take his time and savor the classic diner breakfast the way he would have liked.
While he finished the last bite of waffle, he tapped in his personal code on the metal wrist comp containing his credit chip and held it over the virtual bill on the counter. A beep sounded, followed by a slight vibration in his wrist. The sound was barely audible over the noise of the busy restaurant. It signaled the transaction had been processed.
Sliding off the stool and keeping his back to the Hell’s Gater and his face to the floor, he started towards the door. When he reached the entrance, Kurt began to breathe a sigh of relief and looked up from the floor, thinking he was home free. That’s when he almost bumped into the guy’s companion. He came in the entrance right in front of Kurt and called out to his buddy.
“Hey, add an extra covered hashed browns to that order, Spike.”
Kurt tried to slide past the second gang member unnoticed but the guy turned and looked him right in the eye. Kurt’s hand dropped down to rest on the baton at his belt.
“Hey, don’t I know you?”
“I don’t think so,” Kurt replied. “I’m not from around here.”
“I don’t forget a face. I know you from somewhere.”
“I must look like someone you know.”
“I guess so.” The gang member shrugged and let Kurt pass.
Passing by the guy and out to the parking lot, he didn’t take his hand off his baton until he’d reached his vehicle.
The two Hell’s Gaters were inside talking. The guy from the doorway pointed to the parking lot and they both turned and looked his way. Recognition dawned in the eyes of the one Kurt handed the menu to and his eyes darkened.
He pointed at Kurt, shouting something. Kurt didn’t have to guess what it was. The two of them dashed out to the parking lot as Kurt tried to get into the SUV and get it started up.
The boot sequence took too long and the driver’s side window smashed in before it finished as the first gangbanger punched at the glass with spiked brass knuckles over his tight black leather gloves.
Kurt ducked under the attack and brought up his hand, trying to use the taser function of the collapsed stun baton. The guy swatted at him with his free hand and batted Kurt’s hand out of the way. The gangbanger reached in through the window and grabbed ahold of Kurt with both hands, hauling him out through the broken window into the parking lot with a single heave.
Broken glass from the window cut and scraped Kurt’s arms as he was pulled out of the vehicle. He did manage to kick upward as his feet dropped to the pavement and dislodged the guy’s hold on his arms. He fell Kurt to his back on the sidewalk.
“There’s a price on your head, scumbag. You killed our brothers and Gonzo and I are going to be the ones to collect the reward for turning you in to the clan. We’ll be heroes for catching you.”
Kurt kicked up with his boot, jamming his foot into the gangbanger’s crotch with as much force as he could muster.
It worked. The boot’s heel connected with the full force of Kurt’s kick. The one called Spike doubled over with a high-pitched groan and fell backward.
As the guy crumpled and fell to the parking lot, Kurt rolled over twice to his left to avoid Gonzo’s attempts to stomp on him with the nasty, spiked boots he wore.
Kurt rolled once more, using the additional momentum to propel himself to his feet. His hand flicked out as he stood, deploying the stun baton to its full length. “This is all a misunderstanding. I was planning on dealing with it and paying whatever blood debt is owed. Uh, Gonzo isn’t it?”
“I knew I recognized you when I bumped into you in the doorway. I should have punched your lights out inside the restaurant.”
“Then we wouldn’t have been able to have this fun little conversation. Look, why don’t you let me go and you can tend to your friend’s injured testicles.”
“I don’t give a damn about Spike’s balls. You’re coming with me, dead or alive. It don’t matter to me. The end result is the same, buddy.”
A groan from Spike on the ground at Gonzo’s feet distracted him and Kurt whipped his hand around, launching the enhanced baton at the standing gangbanger’s head.
He saw it coming at the last instant and twitched f
ar enough to the side that the shaft of the baton only delivered a glancing blow. The stun effect was limited and just dazed him.
Kurt held out his hand and the baton executed a tight, arcing turn and flew back into his hand.
He didn’t have time to revel in how totally cool the new baton was. Gonzo recovered quickly and pulled out a wicked, barbed knife.
Kurt dodged the first thrust of the knife but the followup slash caught him on the forearm leaving a eight-centimeter gash.
Gasping at the pain, Kurt brought the baton down on Gonzo’s wrist just above the hand holding the knife. The stun charge fired this time and the hand spasmed and sparked as the arm went limp, dropping the knife clattering to the ground. It didn’t take out the Hell’s Gater, which amazed Kurt. The sparks indicated his arm must be a high-end prosthetic or something like it. It insulated the stun charge from affecting the rest of the guy’s body.
“That’s not going to do you any good, dude,” Gonzo hissed. “You should carry something that’ll do more damage than that fancy stick. You’ll have to kill me to stop me from taking you back to the chapter house.”
The gangbanger balled up the fist on his remaining good arm and swung a roundhouse punch at the side of Kurt’s head.
Kurt ducked under the blow. “I don’t kill unless I have to. It messes with my Karma. Consider that a free tip.”
He punched the end of the baton upward, catching Gonzo under his chin. The stun charge fired again and it was finally lights out for Hell’s Gater number two.
Kurt checked to make sure Spike was still down then bent to pick up the knife. No sense leaving them any weapons while he tried to go.
“Drop the knife and the club. NOW!”
Kurt froze and held his hands still extended out from his side. A glance over his shoulder revealed a uniformed police officer with his service pistol drawn and pointed at Kurt’s back.
“Officer, they attacked me. I was only defending myself.”
“Stop talking and drop the weapons or I’ll drop you.”
Kurt knew better than to resist. He knew he could probably turn and disarm the cop before he could get a shot off. The guy had taken his stance too close to his suspect and there was a part of Kurt that wanted to show this cop the error of his ways.