Caught in the Aftermath

by Jami Gray

  ‘Works for me.’ Their passage would garner curiosity, hopefully enough to snag their city visitors.

  She nodded absently. ‘When’s the last time you swung by the Hole?’

  Mimicking her pose, he picked through his memory. ‘Passed through about six, maybe seven months ago. You?’

  ‘Closer to five for me.’ The silver-tipped hand drummed absently on her bike’s grip.

  He didn’t find it difficult to follow her thinking. Not only did they need privacy for their impending one-on-one, but it would be best if he and Vex could choose the spot where their meeting would occur. Utilising home field advantage, as one old Strix used to say. Problem was, Boise didn’t have the most stable community. The deeper you went, the more slippery it got, until you hit the stagnant depths of the Hole itself. ‘Shit shifts like the tides there. Do you have a spot we can use as anchor?’

  He let her think, enjoying the way the morning sunlight sneaked through the leafy covering and glinted off the streaks of gold woven among the blacks and sables. After about a minute, she spoke. ‘Got a couple ideas, but can’t make a decision until we talk to Bane. Still, I think our first stop should be Gus.’

  ‘Gus?’

  She turned and gave him a grin. ‘Yeah, crusty old mechanic with a big mouth, magic hands.’

  He leaned to the side and took in her bike. ‘Not seeing anything wrong with your ride.’

  ‘Not yet.’ She tugged her bandana up over her nose and settled a pair of protective lenses in place.

  He shook his head and pulled his bandana up. He admired deviousness and this woman had it in spades. It only enhanced her physical draw, which drove him to distraction at times.

  Their bikes roared to life, their pipes unmistakable as they cruised through the centre of Pebble Creek. Heads turned, exactly as they wanted. By the time they hit the public gates, the back of his neck itched and the spot between his shoulder blades stung. Anticipation simmered, and even the annoying aches from his ribs and bruises couldn’t dim his delight. Come and get me, assholes.

  ***

  It took three hours for Vex and Math to hit the outskirts of Boise. Since they weren’t trying to shake their shadows or keep their approach on the down low, they followed the rusted out tracks of an old rail line to the first signs of life. At their last pit stop, Vex upgraded her fuel line with a tiny hole. Just enough to ensure a recognisable stutter as they hit town. They passed a couple of questionable outposts, ignoring the eyes tracking their passage and taking their measure. Curiosity kills, a concept the residents were clearly familiar with as they scrambled further into the shadows, even as they marked the arrival of outsiders.

  Vex turned off and wove her way through some rusted out hulks of ancient big rigs while threading cracked concrete that threatened to shred the bikes’ tires. They drove through the crumbling arch of a partially collapsed building that opened into a cavernous garage. Stripped down car frames crouched on pitted lifts under thick chains dangling from exposed beams. In the metallic web, an old engine block hung like some weird insect. Shelves lined the walls, piled high with unidentifiable parts, and battered tool chests of every size littered the floor. Based upon the jumbled mess of vehicles—two and four-wheeled—in various states of repair, Gus’s place wasn’t hurting for business.

  They rolled to a stop just inside, the deafening racket of their bikes filling the space. Even after they shut them down, Math’s ears still rang. As Vex dropped her stand and swung a leg over her bike, Math stayed seated, but pulled his bandana down. The competing scents of oil, metallic dust, and corn-based fuel clogged his nostrils. He kept an eye on Vex as she shoved her glasses up into her wind-tangled hair and tucked her bandana under her chin. ‘Yo, Gus! You home?’

  Somewhere in the hidden depths a door bounced off a frame, followed by a bellowed, ‘Throttle your thrusters, I’m coming.’

  ‘Throttle your thrusters?’ Math repeated, quirking a brow.

  Vex came to stand next to him, settling her ass just behind him against the seat’s edge. ‘Gus is a fan of old space movies.’

  ‘Ahh.’ Math’s bemusement deepened when the man in question rolled into view. Rolled being the operative word.

  Skin tanned to a leathery finish covered thick arms as they propelled a clearly modified wheelchair across the space. The way the barrel-chested man navigated the maze of tools and parts revealed a skill honed by familiarity. A scrawl of black and blue ink covered his skull instead of hair, but the eyes in the craggy face were sharp. They swept over Math in a quick threat assessment. Careful speculation carved deep grooves across his forehead. When it switched over to Vex, Gus’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ah hell, Vex, what are you doing here?’

  She didn’t move from her position. ‘You still fix bikes, right?’

  Grime-coated hands braked the wheels just in front of the bikes as he did a quick evaluation. ‘Don’t see any bullet holes, nothing’s on fire.’ He turned to scowl at her. ‘So gonna ask again, why are you here, woman?’

  Vex pushed off of Math’s bike and strolled closer to Gus. ‘Pretty sure I nicked my fuel line.’

  Gus’s jaw jutted. ‘Easy enough fix.’

  She shrugged and circled behind the mechanic, so she could brace her arms on the back and lean in. Gus did a piss poor job of hiding his panic as she hooked her chin on his shoulder. ‘Figured I’d let you patch up my baby while I wandered into town and took care of a little business.’

  His throat bobbed, betraying his nerves, but his voice came out rock steady. ‘Always happy to have a paying customer, but I got other jobs ahead of you.’

  Vex straightened, then did a slow revolution taking in the cluttered garage with a soft hum while Gus craned his neck to keep her in sight. When she finished, she leaned in and ran one sharp tip over his other ear. ‘Funny, I don’t see anyone else with a pulse waiting around.’

  ‘Dammit, woman!’ The mechanic jerked his head away and shoved his chair towards Math, before executing a tight turn so he could face the threat behind him. A move Math found hilariously stupid since it put him right between the two biggest threats in the garage. ‘You know you can’t just roll in here and cut in line without someone getting pissy with me.’

  Vex waved away his concerns and she walked forward. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t need it until tomorrow.’ She stopped next to the chair, her gaze on Math. ‘Me and my friend—’ the underlying implication of how close that friendship was coming through loud and clear, ‘—will keep ourselves busy in the meantime.’ She gave the top of Gus’s head a warning pat before moving towards Math once more. ‘What’ll it cost to squeeze me in?’

  Gus adjusted his chair, watching her like he would a venomous snake. Whatever worries he had about helping her disappeared when a hint of craftiness slithered under the lines and folds on his face. ‘You wanna trade?’

  With her back to the cantankerous mechanic, Math watched her roll her eyes and couldn’t miss her exasperated amusement, but her tone didn’t shift in the slightest. She kept coming towards Math as he straddled his bike, and leaving him well and truly caught when she seriously invaded his personal space. ‘Depends.’

  Over her shoulder, Math caught Gus’s gaze zeroing in on Vex’s ass even as she ran that lethally tipped hand down Math’s chest, trailing the edge of his jeans. The teasing touch garnered an expected response, but he forced his body back in line even as instinct and lust had him curling an arm around her waist and tugging her close.

  The move jerked Gus’s attention off her ass and brought his eyes up until they clashed with Math’s. Gus’s face went pasty and his ‘On?’ sounded like it was stuck in his throat.

  When Vex dug her metal nails in a silent warning, Math looked down to the woman filling his arms. No surprise. Vex’s gaze was hot with challenge and irritation, yet her voice was close to a purr when she turned, forcing his hands to her hips as she faced Gus. ‘Your price.’

  Gus dragged a hand over his skull, before angling his chair over to a set of sh
elves. He began rummaging around while he answered. ‘Got a delivery for Trip, a custom job, y’know.’ He pulled something Math couldn’t make out into his lap, before wheeling back over. ‘The kind of job I don’t need a bunch of noses stickin’ into. Lately, the Snooper Troopers have been poking about more than normal. Rather not cross their paths, but I need to get this to Trip. Easier if you could swing in and drop it off.’

  Math knew the name. Trip was the nastiest of the bunch in the Hole, which translated into him being in charge.

  Vex folded her arms and cocked a hip, her voice taking on a chill. ‘What the hell are city soldiers doing here?’

  Gus shrugged. ‘Don’t know, don’t want to know. All I know is they’ve been making themselves a pain in various asses lately and shit’s getting hairy.’

  ‘Easy?’ Vex’s voice hardened. ‘You want me to hit the Hole, make a drop off to a man whose sanity is highly in question, all while dodging soldiers? How the fuck is that easy, Gus?’

  ‘Easier than me trying to get around on this,’ he wheedled. ‘Look, Vex, you’re a fuckin’ Vulture, fly in, drop it off, fly back out. Easy. Just like fixing your damn bike.’ Since Math couldn’t see her face, he figured she must be giving Gus enough to make him believe she was teetering on his offer, because the mechanic whined, ‘You do this for me, I’ll have your bike ready by morning and I’ll make sure no-one touches your shit.’

  With that, Vex leaned back against Math, her head tilting back so he could see her face. ‘What do you think?’

  In keeping with his strong and silent role, he took his time studying Gus, noting a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, then Math dropped his attention to the box sitting in Gus’s lap. Math shifted his gaze to Vex, slid an arched brow up and lifted his chin in silent question.

  ‘Yeah, I’m wondering too.’ Vex turned to Gus. ‘What’s in the box? I don’t want to end up tangled up in someone else’s mess.’

  Gus patted the box. ‘Scavenged boom-blocks, no timers, so you just hand it over and you’re golden.’

  Boom-blocks, or recovered explosives, were highly sought after. If the powers that be knew you were holding some, they’d get twitchy. If someone like Trip wanted it, odds were damn good it wasn’t for anything virtuous.

  Keeping up the pretence, Vex turned back to Math. ‘Well?’

  Math let Gus sweat it out before finally, with obvious reluctance, dipping his chin in agreement and dropping his arm so she could move.

  Vex sauntered out of his arms and over to Gus. She bent down and snagged the box. ‘Deal. As long as he doesn’t blow us up.’ Straightening, she tossed the box to Math, who caught it and tucked it away in his saddlebags. When he turned back around, she was at her bike, getting her saddlebags. Hefting them to her shoulder, she turned back to Gus, her smile vicious and bright. ‘Don’t worry, Gus, if I can’t pick up my bike, my friend here will be sure to swing by to settle the books.’

  Not missing her implication, Gus’s throat worked, but nothing came out. Instead, his wide eyes tracked Vex as she climbed on behind Math. Kicking the bike into gear, Math grinned as the roar of pipes filled the cavernous garage like thunder. Then, he turned the bike, felt Vex twist behind him, probably to give a snarky wave to Gus, and hit the throttle, shooting out of the dubious safety of Gus’s garage and straight into trouble.

  Chapter 10

  Perched behind Math, Vex led him through the streets and closer to the Boise River, directing by touch since the bike’s engine made talking a bitch. The river split the town into the civilised and not-so-civilised zones, with the Hole squatting dead centre of the not-so-civilised portion. As they drove through the scattered traffic, she kept an eye on the other travellers. Those on foot didn’t worry her, but a couple of motorised transports, heavy on the wear and tear, left her concerned. As they zoomed by, it was hard to tell if their operators were mercenary or city hired. Thankfully, both drove off in the opposite direction, leaving Math and her behind.

  She rested her chin on Math’s shoulder, taking advantage of her position to enjoy the ride. His shortened hair blew across her face, bringing a hint of dust, heat, and the scent of her shampoo and male. Like sparks of a firecracker, excitement mixed with something perilously close to contentment bubbled in her veins.

  As much as she wanted to claim it was simply her pleasure at being on the road—the wild speed and freedom of the ride—honesty left her admitting generally riding bitch left her cranky. This was something different and it all centred on the man in front of her. It was in the shift of muscles as he handled the bike, the absent brush of his jaw against her temple as he watched their route, and the disturbing sense of rightness. Whatever it was, it eased the tension perched on her shoulders. Deliberately she kept her attention on the passing scenery and steered her mind off that particular thorny path.

  They swept past the crumbling white clock tower and twisted through the ruined maze of tree-lined streets. Every time she cruised through an old, abandoned urban centre, it nudged her off balance and sent a shiver of discomfort down her spine. The aftermath of the Collapse, especially in urban areas, left bones that held horror stories. After seventy plus years, signs of life violently interrupted by the city born riots were still in evidence. A life only old-timers could remember witnessing.

  Abandoned buildings, decorated with fading red numbers and letters from some cryptic code no-one understood anymore. Empty window frames, like ghostly watchers, were nothing more than black, endless pits staring down at those who dared to pass in their shadows. Mother Nature curled her green arms around the carefully planned communities reclaiming what was hers, but not fast enough to hide the burnt out husks and abandoned shells with rusted out cars parked neatly in weed-choked driveways.

  A few homes had been rescued and repurposed into modern dwellings, but it only added to the uneasy shroud hanging over them. It wasn’t until they got closer to the busy, reconstructed centre of town, that she was able to shake the weirdness off.

  Her stomach rumbled, reminding her it might be best if she and Math hit one of the nearby roadhouses. Not only would it ensure their arrival was noted and shared, but they could fuel up before heading out to crawl through the lethal pit of the Hole to deal with the psycho named Trip. Not to mention giving their shadows time to catch up after stopping by Gus’s. Of course the mechanic’s deal was an unexpected bonus. Especially since her initial plan involved poking around until they got something on where Cam might be held. It was a tried and true tactic that, despite a few hiccups, normally worked. Giving their excursion into the Hole a purpose was better. Yeah, better and faster.

  Ahead, one of the few remaining bridges loomed with a set of round towers sitting on the right. Various transportation options surrounded its base, while small groups hung around smoking and talking. She squeezed Math’s waist before lifting her hand and pointing it out. Math nodded and aimed the bike. As they parked, the weight of eyes settled on them. Vex swung off and stretched, while Math followed. A couple of female traders making their way down the steps watched his show. When one of them made a ‘meow’ sound, Vex hid her flash of amusement under a ‘he’s mine’ glare before nabbing her saddlebags and striding between the hungry women and Math. Looking like she was on hussy patrol, otherwise Math might not make it out unmolested.

  Taking her new role to heart, she braced her metal-tipped hand on his stomach as she turned into him and kept her voice low. ‘Don’t leave those behind or they won’t be here when we get back.’

  Amusement and something she didn’t get lit his eyes at her proprietary touch, but he simply murmured, ‘Gotcha,’ and grabbed his bags.

  Together they headed up the faded red stairs, ignoring the curious. Behind the protection of her tinted lenses, she did a scan of the lot and clocked the lanky teen perched on the low wall butting against the stairs with an impressively wide-shouldered mutt at his side. That would be the self-appointed lot guard. She dug into a pocket for some credits, but Math beat her to it. He toss
ed the flash of silver at the kid, who managed to snap it out of thin air.

  Since Math took care of payment, Vex decided it was on her to ensure the kid wouldn’t screw them over. Not bothering with personal space, she got right in his face and waited until the cocky ass smile faded. ‘Anyone touches, your ass pays the price.’

  Her threat earned a lame attempt at a sneer. ‘Payment gets you an hour.’ The last part of his response cracked on a revealing octave.

  ‘They touch the bike, I touch you.’ She leaned in, ignored the wall of nausea-inducing body odour, and poked a silver-tipped finger under his chin. ‘Promise only one of us will enjoy that. Yeah?’

  She waited for his jerky nod that sent a bead of sweat winding over pitted, pale skin before disappearing into an even weaker attempt at a beard before pulling back. Message delivered and received. She went back to Math and they headed inside.

  The din of voices, music, and activity curled around them as they stepped through the doors. Lighting was for shit, but that was expected. The low haze of smoke—a mix of tobacco and cannabis—competed with the scent of fried food, grilling meat, and sweat. She and Math wound their way through the maze of tables and chairs, heading towards the bar stretched back under what she swore looked like stained glass. The disgusting mix puddled on the floor tugged at her boots. Bodies, on stools and on foot, lined the bar. Really not wanting to rub shoulders with the unclean masses, Vex tugged on Math’s belt loop, bringing him to a stop.

  When she had his attention, she leaned in. ‘Why don’t you grab us something edible and cold, while I claim a table.’

  He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and out of the stumbling path of one of the patrons. ‘Any preference on the food?’

  Twisting her neck to check out what the various plates held, she wrinkled her nose. ‘Something that resembles what it came from would be good.’