by Amy Cook
“I didn’t smell anythin’ different about her,” Tandy pointed out, curiously wondering exactly what it was about this girl’s scent that had the boy in knots. He also knew it was a bit taboo among their kind to outright talk about their differences, so he left it at that. Harley shrugged uncomfortably, moving toward the door quickly.
“Probably didn’t notice because you stink too much to smell anythin’ but that, Pops.” Tandy laughed at Harley’s wry joke, and moved to stand at his side. “Don’t worry, Pops, I’ll keep an eye on your pet. Just worry ‘bout gettin’ yourself home safe. We gotta head out for patrol,” he muttered, opening the door. Charleen and Cajun followed. Tandy gently patted Charleen’s hand as she paused before him.
“It was a pleasure meetin’ ya, darlin’. Make sure y’all tell me the weddin’ date, and I’ll be there.”
“Of course. It was nice meeting you, too.” She smiled shyly walking out the door.
“See ya, Daddy-o!” Cajun graced his father with a quick headlock and noogie before running out the door after Charleen.
“Harley,” Tandy called out, stopping his youngest son on his way out the door. Tandy could see just how much the situation he’d placed on Harley’s shoulders was throwing him off balance. Harley had spent a huge portion of his life looking after himself, and his brother. He’d grown up with only vague early memories of his mother, and the last clearest memories of her had wrecked the poor little guy’s heart. Fighting, that was something Harley understood all too well, even relished it. Protecting Amiel wouldn’t be the problem. The fact that she was a girl, would be. Girls were entirely out of his realm of the known, and Harley didn’t do well in situations he didn’t have charted out in black and white in front of him. As much as it hurt Tandy to say it, Harley’s mother had ruined his perception of women. He had aunts, cousins, and a granny, and they were better examples of the female world. But Harley rarely let his guard down long enough to see them as anything beyond family members in need of his protection. Tandy doubted he even allowed himself to think of them as women. He distanced himself, protected himself. Tandy’s hand came down on his shoulder, gently squeezing.
“I’m proud of ya, boy.” Heaving a sigh, Harley turned and gave him a quick hug. As much as Harley avoided the emotional entanglements of most relationships, he was deeply loyal to his family, especially his father. Tandy was a bit too gruff with his sons in the emotional department, but he had never missed an opportunity to find one way or another to show his pride and love for them. Given the circumstances in their lives it was becoming more and more rare that they were able to see one another. And one never knew when that moment in time would be their last.
“You too, Pops. Give the Rabes hell on your way back. And be safe.”
“Got it. Oh, one more thing.” He handed Harley one of his business cards. “Forgot to give the girl my shop number, just in case she needs to get ahold of me. Help an old man out and slip it by her mail box or somethin’. Or text it to her if ya want, she’s got a cell phone. Her number’s on the back.” He added the last with a good natured wink, knowing his attempts to offer one more way of Harley contacting the girl wouldn’t be appreciated. But he couldn’t help himself. Tandy wasn’t real technologically savvy, but he’d managed to swipe Amiel’s phone number out of her phone last night when she was in the shower. He’d felt slightly underhanded about it, snooping around in a teenage girl’s phone, but the current look on Harley’s face was worth it.
“Why don’t ya just do it yourself?” he grumbled, staring down at the number as though it were poisonous.
“Y’all know I don’t do all that text mumbo jumbo.” With that, he shut the door in Harley’s face.
Chapter 14
Harley
Harley stood staring blankly at the door for a long moment. Tandy could have easily just called her and given her the number. But instead, he left Harley with the duty. Sneaky, conniving old man. With a helpless growl Harley strode out of the hotel lobby, eager to begin patrol. He needed a fight, needed to burn off some of the anxious energy that had begun shivering through his body the moment he entered his pop’s hotel room. The conflicting emotions stirred up by that infuriating scent the girl seemed to carry had clung to every part of the hotel room. He had been able to smell it from clear across the road earlier that day at the bar too. With so many others around he hadn’t been sure the scent belonged to her then, but the scent in his pop’s room made it clear. And now that he had been closed up in the room so long, and sat in the chair she obviously favored by the amount of scent on it, the scent now clung to Harley, too. He needed to drown it out with the tangy smell of Rabid blood and his own sweat. The hotel clerk nervously locked the doors behind him as he exited the hotel, as though afraid Harley would eat him alive. If his mood got any darker, he just might have.
“So, what’s going on with this one’s scent?” Cajun’s voice filtered to him from the shadows on the front wall. He and Charleen approached, both curious.
“What did it smell like to you?” He looked at his soon-to-be sister-in-law.
“It was too faint to get a good read on it. I could only tell it smelled different than anything I’ve smelled before. It did make me a bit edgy, but nothing I couldn’t handle,” Charleen said, looking to Cajun for his take.
“Same here.” He shrugged noncommittally. “Not like any infected I’ve ever smelled before though, that’s for sure.”
“No, it was definitely not infection. Even in the early stages they don’t smell like that.” Harley shook his head in frustration. All Rabids reeked; their smell was a dead giveaway. The amount of stink was only an indicator as to how new they were. This kid, she smelled off…but it certainly wasn’t the stink of the infected. He left it at that, realizing he was becoming too fixated on the scent clinging to his jacket, again.
“I agree. Not infected.” Charleen threw in her agreement with Harley. “But something’s not right. I think we need to find out why.” She and Cajun both stared at Harley, silently waiting. Harley rubbed at the back of his neck, uncomfortable under their scrutiny.
“Pops made it sound like the Rabids were drawn to her, like some sorta magnetic pull. I think he wanted to see if she had the same effect on us.”
“And? You’re the only one who’s seen her. Did you feel a pull?” Cajun pressed.
“I felt…somethin’,” Harley grudgingly admitted, clenching his jaw and fighting the urge to bite his nails again. It was a nasty, annoying habit, one he thought he’d kicked years ago. He’d have to start wearing gloves all the time again if he kept this up. Instead he popped in a second piece of gum, grinding into it in an effort of distraction.
“Some people smell better to me than others. It’s faint, but it’s there. Was it something like that?” Charleen asked, her tone becoming quiet, helpful. Harley nodded in acknowledgment, knowing it was hard for her to do the whole consoling thing. She was as screwed up as he was in the social department. Only difference was, she found someone she could be herself with, someone that made her want to try. That was something Harley would never allow for himself.
“Yeah, she’s probably just got one of those smells that make a person want to digest her,” Cajun threw in. “What did dad say her name was?”
“Amiel,” Harley conceded quietly.
“Amiel.” Cajun said the name slowly, sampling it. “I mean come on, she’s just setting herself up to be a midnight snack. A meal. A meal.” He tried out her name a few more times, pushing home his reasoning. Harley’s instincts itched at the mention of his new charge being Rabid chow.
“She ain’t bein’ no one’s meal, butt face.” Cajun smirked that annoyingly white grin of his.
“Except maybe yours.” Harley’s muscles tensed, making his jacket creak. Charleen intervened, elbowing Cajun in the ribs hard.
“Stop it, Cajun. You’re going to make him back out on his promise.”
“Ah chickie babe,” Cajun crooned, “Harl knows I’m just joking. Right
?” Harley grunted. He did know his brother was just teasing. Teasing was about the only way Caj knew how to show love. Based off how often Cajun had teased Harley in his lifetime, his brother loved him more than the secret Barbie Doll collection he had in his basement. Harley smirked at that thought, but kept it silent. To be fair, the collection had been their mother’s, and most of them were worth thousands each. Tandy said he kept them out of hopes that one day the world would be right, the economy fixed, and the plastic dolls worth a load of money that would set him up for life. Harley liked to tease that there was a lot more to it than hopes for money. But there was no need to sabotage his brother’s relationship. Eventually the girl was bound to find one too many skeletons in Cajun’s closet and she’d ditch. Harley wouldn’t be the one to nail off the coffin.
“Besides, he’ll make the best babysitter in the world.” Cajun laughed. Harley glowered. Maybe he’d tell Charleen about that Barbie collection after all.
“I ain’t goin’ back on my promise. Fact is, no matter the reasons Pop gave me, we need to know the truth about the situation. She’s got a dangerous secret; maybe just dangerous to her, maybe dangerous to all of us.”
“I want to know more about these dog tags.” Cajun nodded, finally being more serious about the topic.
“And the story about the Raider huntin’ her?” Harley asked.
“We’ll need to keep an eye on that, too. Raiders are smart and ruthless, but they aren’t typically that obsessive. If it’s true, that would mean things are changing again.” Charleen wrinkled her nose in disgust, a small growl making its way up her throat. Cajun wrapped a protective arm around her. Charleen didn’t have the best track record with Rabids in general, but Raiders were her most hated of the bunch.
“We’ll ask around, see what we can find out. In the meantime, you better keep an eye on dad’s little girl. If the Rabids like the smell of her and the Raiders want her too, she’ll be in a hot mess in Dallas.” Cajun was right, of course. Harley clenched his fists, ignoring the urge to hunt down the girl and ensure her safety right away. This new protective instinct thing was going to get annoying, real fast.
“What was he thinkin’, bringin’ her here? One of the worst cesspools in the country, Rabids and Raiders aside, and he brings her here.” Cajun smiled at Harley’s tangent, slapping him on the arm with the closest thing to a hug as they ever came.
“I’m guessing he was thinking of you, lil bro.” Harley’s brow furrowed.
“Because I make such a perfect babysitter?” He groaned in annoyance. Cajun just laughed, gave his shoulder another slap, then walked away with his girl into the darkening night. Harley ran a hand over his face before scrubbing it through his hair. Turning on his heel, he strode in the other direction, throwing a leg over his bike. He needed to feel its speed beneath him. With each mile he put between him and the hotel, the girl’s scent should have faded. Instead, it stayed ingrained in his nose, and Harley began to wonder just what in the world he’d gotten himself into.
Chapter 15
Amiel
Amiel tiredly juggled the bags of groceries on her way up the stairs. She’d bought too much probably, packing the side bags on her bike to the max. She carried two bags looped over each arm, and four more smooshed against her chest as she began the three floor ascent to her apartment. Elevators were apparently considered taboo in the regular world. With the power supply not being entirely reliable out here, too many people were trapped in the metal boxes on a daily basis.
She swallowed and leaned against the stairwell for a moment, catching her breath. Definitely too many groceries. She silently argued that she’d need enough to hold her over until her first paycheck came through. Once that happened, she was determined to live entirely on what she made at her job alone. Jaron’s money would sit safely in her bank account. The thought both terrified and thrilled her. She’d never been on her own, and while she’d never really had free access to the family money, she’d known she’d never have to face the possibility of hunger. Of course, if it came down to it, she’d be able to cheat and easily dip into Jaron’s funds. The idea of being able to provide for herself, however, was powerful incentive to leave it alone. She was starting her new job tonight, and it would be two weeks before her first paycheck. Despite the bad mood brought on by sweat rolling down her neck, the thought of a new job and an earned paycheck brought a smile to Amiel’s lips as she reached the top step.
Stopping at her door she found herself glaring at it, filing away a mental note for next time. Get the keys out of your pocket before packing your arms full of groceries. A door opened down the hall, signifying Darvey was in his usual attack mode. She’d lived here for three weeks now, and it was becoming a daily ritual for him to rush out the door every time she stayed in the hallway too long. He was like a rat drawn to a chunk of cheese. Unfortunately Amiel was the cheese, and she was beginning to think he had changed his schedule to better fit hers. Another reason to always have your stinking keys in hand, Amiel! She growled mentally as she watched him bound up to her, over the tops of her bags.
“Amiel! You have your arms full don’t you! You look like a little chipmunk! Let me help you.” She grudgingly prepared to hand a few of her bags over to him, not at all expecting the feel of his hands as they tried to slip into her front jeans pocket. She let out a screech, jumping away from him, dropping most of her bags in the process. Her eyes glued to him, angry, accusing.
“Darvey, what are you doing!” His face whitened slightly, a sweat breaking out across his upper lip.
“Sorry, Amiel, I was just trying to get the keys out of your pocket for you.” He stepped forward, but she threw out a hand to stop him. He froze, watching her carefully.
“You couldn’t just hold a couple of bags for me? You had to go pocket diving instead? What makes you even think my key is in that pocket?” He just stared at her, mouth working silently over several possible replies to her tirade, but none made it to the surface. With a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumped and she rubbed her eyes. She supposed it wasn’t his fault. The guy obviously was not savvy in the way of proper behavior and social etiquette, and she was beginning to wonder if he was quite simply not right in the head. But he had a serious problem with personal space, and it was getting creepy.
“Look, don’t worry about it okay? Just please don’t do that again. I really don’t like being touched.” She tacked the last on, hoping it would scare him off enough that he’d give up the clumsy pursuit of flirting with her. Guys didn’t waste time on women who didn’t put out. She’d learned that over the years back home.
“Yes, of course. Forgive me.” He reached to grasp her hand, but she quickly crouched down to start sorting through the damage done to her groceries, simultaneously avoiding his touch. Apparently he wasn’t good at taking not-so-subtle hints either.
“Here, let me help you. You get your keys out, and I will carry them in for you.” He gathered them all up before she could reply, leaving her no choice but to do as he suggested. Not wanting him to know he was right about where her key was, she turned her back to him and quickly removed the key. As the door swung open, he swept past her, smooshing her chest between his arm and the door as he passed. She sighed, desperately trying to keep her patience in line. He dumped the groceries on the counter, and then proceeded to put them all away. In all the wrong places. She forced her smile to stay in place, though her cheeks were beginning to hurt with the effort. Finally he turned to her with a proud smile, and she again felt that stirring of pity for the guy. He really was just trying to help. But he really sucked at it.
“Okay, well, thank you for the help, Darvey.” She held the door open wide with a cheerful smile, but instead he leaned against the counter and helped himself to one of her slightly mashed bananas.
“So how are things going, Amiel? Do you like your new home? It looks very nice in here by the way. You’re really good at decorating such a small space.” She repressed a sigh, glancing at the clock. There was onl
y one hour before she had to show up for her first night of work, and she definitely needed a shower before then. That gave her about half an hour to get ready. Which meant she needed to get him out of here, quick.
“Yeah, it’s been great, thanks. I am just about to get ready for my first day of work though, so…” He tossed the peel in the trash, moving into her personal space again.
“Oh really? Wonderful! Are you excited? Where are you working? Maybe I can stop in and say hi sometime.” She pressed back against the open door, maintaining some distance.
“Uh, yeah. It’s pretty exciting. But it’s on the other side of town, and I still have to get ready, so I should get started. Don’t want to be late on my first day and all.”
“That’s great though! I have to go into work in an hour, but I could just go early. We could carpool!” This was SO not going the way Amiel had hoped. She prayed it wasn’t a sign of how the rest of the night was going to be.
“No, I couldn’t ask you to go so early just for me. “
“I wouldn’t mind at all! In fact, I’d love the company.”
“You don’t even know where I work. It’s probably really far out of your way. It’s too much trouble, really.
“It’s no problem at all, Chipmunk.” He snorted. “Chipmunk. Get it? From the hallway?” She forced a laugh, internally wondering how he would react if she started calling him Rat.
“Ah, yeah, that’s good.” She cleared her throat “Darvey, I appreciate the offer, it’s sweet of you. But I have a ride.” He paused before his face screwed up slightly.