by Jamie Davis
“What is it?”
“One of Jonesey’s magic-tech hybrid devices. It’s supposed to suspend gravitational fields between the two handles once they’re toggled on. They have to be switched on simultaneously or else she said something bad would happen.”
“Bad, how?”
“No idea. You’ll have to ask her. Let’s countdown together from three to make sure we don’t find out. We’ll flip the toggle switches after one.”
“Got it.”
Kurt pressed the flat circuit boards on the open ends of the handles against the side of the sarcophagus and met Marci’s eyes.
She nodded.
He put his thumb on the toggle switch saying, “Three, Two, One, Go.”
As soon as he flipped the toggle, the handle adhered to the side of the carved wood and metal of the golden sarcophagus. A soft hum filled the room and the sarcophagus lifted up from the pallet a few centimeters.
“That’s so cool,” Marci remarked, awe tinging her tone. “I’ve really got to make an effort to spend more time with Jonesey and pick her brain. There are a few ideas I have she might be able to help me with.”
“It can wait. We’ve got about sixty seconds to get this into the van and start driving away.”
Together, they slid the sarcophagus through the air until they were past the door. It was weightless, but not massless, so it took some muscle to change directions or drag it to a stop.
Marci slid the door shut behind them as they turned to start down the hallway. She waved a hand over the glowing runes and sigils around the timer panel.
A loud click sounded as the magical characters faded away and the display briefly showed the regular countdown clock before returning to the correct time again.
Marci turned and started down the corridor with him, helping pull the load. They both grunted with the effort to steer it.
Kurt checked his own countdown timer, set to the video loop. Thirty seconds remained by his estimate.
Marci winced at the effort of slowing the heavy object and jumped down from the loading dock to open the back doors of the van.
Kurt jumped down to join her and together they pulled the sarcophagus across the gap and into the back of the van. They pressed their load down to the floor and their eyes met. With a joint nod and another countdown, they both flipped the toggles on the handles again.
The pipes popped free with a click and the back of the van settled a little on its suspension as it registered the sudden load of its new cargo.
Kurt slipped off the backpack, pulled the doors closed from the inside, and climbed up into the passenger seat from the back of the van. Marci was already in the driver’s seat, gunning the engine to life.
As Kurt settled into his seat and slipped on his seat belt, she drove the van up the loading dock ramp and pulled onto the access road between the warehouses, heading back for the main gate.
For a moment, Kurt feared the guard at the entrance had been alerted. The reinforced gate across the complex’s entrance was closed. It would stop their light van without a problem. There was no way they could break through.
He let out a sigh of relief when the guard walked out of the small building by the entrance, waved and pressed a button on the wall. The gate slid back and they drove through without stopping and headed out into the night.
Marci blew the guard a kiss as she accelerated away, laughing with delight.
Kurt had to admit, the relief from the tension he felt in the warehouse felt pretty good and he let a smile play across his face, as well. They’d run that heist pretty close to the edge.
He took a calming breath after allowing himself a short internal celebration at a job well done. There was still a lot to do, including locating and then navigating an unregistered gate tonight, but part one of their plan was complete.
Chapter 12
Marci drove the van up onto the state highway, driving east until they reached the exit for the rental lot where they’d leased the vehicle. It was well after hours and the office was closed but she parked the van next to a line of other ones just like it while Kurt backed his SUV up to the rear of the van.
“Drop the keys in the slot by the door, Marci. I’ll start moving our stuff over to my truck.”
She nodded and jogged over to the small office trailer at the far end of the rental lot. Kurt finished moving their personal bags and clothing and waited for her return to lift and slide the sarcophagus over into the SUV’s rear cargo area. With the rear seats collapsed flat, there was plenty of room.
As they settled the sarcophagus to the floor of the SUV, Marci pointed at the rear of the van. It was still full of empty boxes, stacked against the walls.
“Should we clean those out?”
“Nope.” Kurt shook his head. “I paid the extra cleanup fee up front. I’m sure investigators will eventually show up here looking to see if we rented the van from this location. Let them try and decipher the riddle of the empty boxes and faked address labels. It’s better if we get on the road before someone recalls seeing my vehicle here.”
“Alright. I’ll go disconnect the jammer we installed on the lot’s video cameras and meet you on the corner.”
Kurt smiled. He liked working with Marci most of the time. She could be a little trigger happy sometimes, but she had an attention to detail that paid off on operations like this one.
She jogged across the lot to the wooden light pole along the street. It served to carry the electric lines to the building. It also had the sole security camera for the whole parking lot mounted on it. Reaching up as high as she could on tip-toes, she removed an unremarkable black box about the size of a deck of cards. Its tiny but powerful, electro-magnet had jammed the on-site video cameras as they pulled into the lot. She’d planted it before they drove onto the lot to rent the van.
Anyone who checked the video logs would see nothing but static during their time on the rental lot.
Kurt waited farther up the street at the corner next to the local National Guard Armory building, watching her approach the passenger side of the van. He had to admit, she looked good, even in the standard delivery gal uniform they’d bought. If she weren’t Trent’s daughter—.
Kurt shut down that line of thought as soon as it started. He’d known Marci too long to start thinking about her that way. He remembered when she still had braces on her teeth.
She climbed in and pointed to the National Guard Armory across the street. “I don’t suppose you’d wait until I broke into the armory over there to get some additional supplies?”
“I don’t know about you, but I try to limit myself to breaking into only one federal facility a day. Besides, you don’t need any more tactical gear for this job. You’re coming along only far enough to see if I need help opening the gate and ferrying the sarcophagus through it. After that, you’re taking my SUV back to Baltimore.”
“How are you going to move that thing by yourself once you’re on the other side, Kurt? It weighs a ton and you can’t operate the handles Jonesey gave you alone.”
“My contact is supposed to meet me on the other side. I’ll have help to move it then.”
“You go in there alone, what’s to stop them from taking it, keeping Clara, and killing you?”
“Hey, this is my job, remember? This isn’t my first time on one of these sketchy delivery missions. I’ve got this.”
“Regardless, I still need to change. We’ll pull over at the first rest stop on the way west to the coordinates they gave you. I feel naked without my basic tactical rig.”
Kurt knew better than to argue with a woman about her outfits. If she wanted to change into her tac gear, he wasn’t going to tell her no. It didn’t change anything. She wasn’t crossing through the gate with him unless absolutely necessary. This was his problem and he’d take care of it alone.
They headed west on the state highway, keeping off the interstate. About a half hour later, they reached an old truck stop to use the bathroom and for Marci to chan
ge.
Most of these combination service stations and convenience stores on the interstate routes had shut down with the advent of full automation of the long-haul trucking industry. There were no more truckers on those major highways to stop and use the services any longer.
There were still a few to be found, though, on the smaller, regional roads used by local trucking firms. They still had human drivers. This truck stop was in pretty bad shape on the outside and Kurt didn’t want to think about how gross the restroom was.
Marci, apparently, didn’t have those same reservations. As soon as he parked the SUV, she grabbed her black backpack from behind her seat and jumped out to go change. Kurt decided to plug into the high voltage charger at the parking space by the main entrance. He’d top off the SUV’s charge for fifteen minutes or so while he looked around the store and got some food for him and Marci.
Once inside, he was surprised with how well kept the place was. The outside might look like crap. However, the owners had everything neat and tidy inside and the food prep and coffee areas were spotless.
Changing his mind about getting changed here, Kurt went back out and fetched his own duffle bag. He went back inside and asked the clerk about the way to the restrooms. She was a cute and obviously pregnant blonde girl of about twenty or so.
“Sure, Mister. It’s over there in the back corner. There’s a hallway that goes back to where the bathrooms are. The showers are back there, too, if you need one. They’re clean, I promise. I did them myself just an hour or so ago.”
“I don’t need one now, but I’ll keep that in mind for the next time,” Kurt glanced at her name badge. “Thanks, Chrissy. Hey, can you make up a few chili dogs with cheese for my friend and me? I’ll be out in a sec to pay for them.”
“Sure thing, mister. Do you want chopped onions? They’re local and they’re sweet and fresh.”
“That would be great. Thanks!”
Kurt reminded himself to not judge a book by its cover. This place was way better than the exterior showed on initial impression.
The men’s restroom was also pretty clean, not too surprising after what he’d seen outside. Kurt decided to not only change his clothes but wash up, too, using the sink. He swiped his credit chip in a wall cabinet and a warm, fluffy towel slid out for him to dry off his face and arms.
A few minutes later, Kurt left the restroom feeling a hundred percent better than he did when he went in. He chuckled when he caught himself humming a tune as he walked out into the hallway leading back into the shopping area.
The sounds of shouting caught his attention immediately. The humming stopped as his situational awareness and tactical training kicked in.
“Open the damn safe. I want all the sweet stuff you’ve got in there, now!”
The demand was followed by a scream, then crying and some unintelligible words. Chrissy sounded like she was having a hard time complying with the order.
Kurt crouched and moved up to the corner to peek around and assess the situation.
A tap on his back spun him around with his baton in hand, ready to strike.
He relaxed when he saw it was just Marci.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“The place is getting robbed. I really don’t want to get involved. If we do, the police are going to want to question us and I don’t need the headache or the delay. Plus it will log us into the system and may alert someone at GEU about our whereabouts.”
“We can’t let that girl get hurt, though, right? She’s pregnant for God’s sake.”
Kurt agreed with Marci. He didn’t want to get involved but he wouldn’t turn his back on the girl behind the counter in this situation. This was probably some local junkie trying to score enough cash to pay for a fix. That was good news and bad news. Whoever it was probably didn’t have any tactical training. The downside was junkies could be unpredictable at best.
Marci was in her black tactical pants and a black t-shirt. A holstered semi-automatic rode on her hip. She had a hand resting on it, ready to draw.
Many people went about armed these days after a few of the early gates opened into less than peaceful worlds after the Incident ten years before. These other worlds came with some pretty terrifying monsters inside. Unfortunately, a good many of the beasts made the transit to Earth Prime before those gates could be bottled up to stop transit.
Because of these gate incursions around the world, there were still a lot of strange things roaming the backcountry and most people in the rural areas of the U.S. went around armed in some way.
The shouting up by the counter had started up again along with more whimpering cries from Chrissy behind the counter.
“Marci, you move around to the left side of the store by the soda machines. I’ll go right and sneak up behind him. When I make my move, get to the clerk and take her out of there to somewhere safe.”
She nodded and started to move into position. Kurt stopped her. “And Marci, try not to kill anyone. It would be nice if we could leave the place without involving the police.”
“Got it, I’ll try and just shoot the asshole’s balls off so he can’t reproduce.” Marci fixed him with a vicious grin.
Kurt shook his head. She had few inhibitions about doing violence and he couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. He hoped she’d heard him.
Moving right while Marci headed left, Kurt reached the last row of shelves, this one containing streaming video chips you could purchase to make the long drives easier. They allowed you to access new release holovids in your car while traveling.
Peeking around the shelf. Kurt saw a tall, lanky kid who wore ratty blue jeans and a dirty white t-shirt with a football team logo on the back. He had a buzz cut and a five-centimeter tall mohawk running down the center of his head.
No, check that.
It wasn’t a mohawk, it was a crest of spikes growing out of his skull. This guy wasn’t human, and something the robber said earlier clicked.
He’d asked for the sweet stuff. This guy was a Juicer. There was a world gate that had opened in western Virginia. The people there were from a world that had nearly been destroyed by a vast planet-wide war. As soon as that world’s residents saw how lush and peaceful Earth Prime was, refugees poured through seeking anyplace safe to go after the gate opened.
Some of the refugees discovered an affinity for artificial sweeteners. It affected them like cocaine did and they quickly became addicted. Called Juicers by most people on the east coast, they could be a lot of trouble. The sweetener caused them to become like a human on PCP and they could be hard to stop.
Most stores kept their artificial sweeteners behind the counter, locked up nowadays to discourage shoplifting and other thefts.
Kurt couldn’t see the guy’s face but he suspected he’d see a wide-eyed, crazed junkie juicer judging from the fidgety way the guy carried himself.
The guy had a rusty, old revolver in his right hand and he waved it around, pointing it over the counter and sweeping it back and forth. Chrissy was nowhere in sight but Kurt could hear her crying. She must be crouched, hiding behind the counter.
Kurt didn’t think the old gun was in good working order, but you could never be sure. He pulled out his stun baton and prepared to charge at the guy and try to disarm him.
He never got the chance.
“Freeze you juiced-up scumbag. Put that gun down or I’ll blow your slimy alien brains all over the wall.”
Damn! Marci had decided to take things into her own hands.
“You freeze yourself, lady. Where’d you come from anyway?”
“Never mind about that. I won’t warn you again. Drop it or die.”
“Don’t even think about it. If you come any closer, I’ll splatter this pregnant chickie’s brains all over that wall. Better yet, maybe I’ll just shoot her in the belly and kill her and the kid in one shot.”
This was going from bad to worse. Damn it, why didn’t Marci wait for him to make his move?
Kurt turned the corner, deploying the baton with a flick of his wrist, feeling the vibration in his hand as it hummed to life.
Pulling his hand back he whipped his arm forward and let the baton fly.
Kurt didn’t wait for the baton to connect. He raced right after it.
The kid must’ve seen something out of the corner of his eye because he turned at the last instant to face Kurt charging at him.
His eyes met Kurt’s, pupils dilated despite the bright lights overhead. He reached up with one hand, using the unnaturally fast reflexes his addiction gave him and batted the baton aside. The kid then brought his revolver around with the same hyped-up speed to point it at Kurt.
At the same instant the revolver swung around to aim at Kurt, Marci’s hollow point slugs ripped into the robber’s chest, throwing him back against a rack of potato chips.
“No!” Kurt shouted, watching the kid fall to the ground clutching at his chest.
Raising his hand, palm outward, Kurt called the baton back. It flew straight and true back to his hand.
Marci ran forward, her pistol extended in a textbook two-handed grip, covering the downed robber.
“You alright, Kurt? I heard you shout.”
“I was shouting ‘NO’ to you. We could’ve taken him alive.
Returning the baton to his belt, Kurt knelt by the would-be robber. He searched for signs of life but found nothing to indicate the kid survived the bullet wounds in his chest.
Despite not being human, most bipedal aliens had vital organs in their torsos making them vulnerable to the same sort of killing attacks that took out humans. That was true for the Rankar, the name these aliens gave themselves. Kurt thought he’d heard somewhere that it meant “lost ones” in their tongue.
Chrissy peeked over the counter, her tears causing her mascara to run and leave trails down her cheeks. She looked at the robber lying on the floor in a pool of dark red blood and then at Kurt kneeling over him. “Is he dead?”
“I’m afraid so. Was he after your stash of sweetener?