A series of images slid through my head, and I responded by remembering my own series: a baseball field, an acoustic guitar, my grandfather. It's one of the security features of my Mustang. She's able to receive my neural cast, but she liked to be extra sure that it's me sending commands. The images were my proof of identity. The car gently lifted into the air.
"Head northwest," Hetty said.
"Away from the city? How far?"
"Far." There was a pause. "They've got some distance on you."
I cursed under my breath. Outside of Austin, Texas, was a wasteland of tiny towns and abandoned desert. There wasn't anything out there worth slowing down for, let alone stopping. Likely if the girl headed northwest she was headed for Canada through the mountains. The Texas-Canada border was fuzzy up there, as was the rule of law. My spine tensed at the idea of heading up that far north.
Maybe I didn't have to. I checked the pocket of my duster, but it was empty. What had that card said? The girl had put it there, I was sure of it, but what exactly did it mean and why would the Roth boys have taken it? "Hetty, the words 'dead oak' mean anything to you?"
There was a pause. "There's a Dead Oak up thereabouts."
"A town?"
"Somethin' like."
"Well, I reckon we just might have a destination. Can we catch them before they make it there?"
"No, but you can get there just after they arrive. They're headed straight for it, and they have a pretty good lead."
"Wonderful."
A few mental commands later, my Mustang was roaring low over the dry red dirt of The Chihuahuan Desert. A bubble of calm air kept my hat from flying off.
"Hetty?"
"Yes?"
"I'm going to take myself a nap now. I'm not dying, so don't shut everything down quite yet."
"You sure are sleepy today."
I ground my teeth. My head still hurt. "Yup." I pulled my hat forward and put my feet up on the soft black leather seat. I closed my eyes and let the world roar by in peace.
My bare feet sizzled on the still-hot gravel. An hour after sunset and the stuff still practically glowed. I had ditched my socks. For some reason, I had decided it wasn't worth it to ruin a perfectly good pair of socks. Pain coupled with a scent like grilled beef served to remind me of my stupidity.
A couple deep breaths soothed the pain, but only because I had turned down the receptors. One of the advantages of a quality neuro-implant is the ability to turn down pain. Instead of pain, I felt only a dull warmth and a quivering sense of unease.
An ancient library loomed in the darkness like an enormous, squat bunker in an otherwise ruined landscape. It wasn't in the town of Dead Oak, but it was close enough to not matter. On the horizon I could still see the silhouette of the town's dome-shaped buildings. People still lived this far out, scraping a living from the hard earth. A touch of pity made me pause and shake my head.
The Roths' vehicle was parked outside, and I moved forward to hide behind it. The thing resembled a heavy-duty Civil War–era troop hauler, originally used to fly low and fast, dropping off twenty or more goons under heavy fire. It was armored and red, like the dirt of the great deserts. The cabin up front was fully armored and very much locked. The back was open but empty.
"Nellie's signal's coming from right next to you, hon," Hetty said.
"Ain't no way I'm getting in there without the code." I could sense the signal from the truck probing me for codes I didn't have.
"Winston, I thought you were the best?"
"I never said that."
"This little truck's going to stop you from getting your baby?"
"I never said that neither."
"Uh-huh."
"I just need a plan." I closed my eyes and tried to think. If the Roth boys stopped, then they must have thought the girl was nearby. Probably in the library. The question was, would they split up or stay together?
Connor Roth thought himself a tactical genius. I had no doubt he'd split the boys up with some clever plan to cover every inch of the place and seal the entrances at the same time. Truth is, it was probably the best plan available to him.
He wasn't counting on me, though.
Peering up at the dark building, I spotted a way inside. There was a row of windows. One of them would give me easy access to the top floor. Once in, I would be able to take out the Roth boys quietly and then focus on tracking that girl. All I needed to do was climb a few stories, subdue three highly trained and heavily armed thugs using nothing but my wits and fists, and then catch a girl who in all likelihood had already defeated me in one-on-one combat. It wasn't the ideal plan. I flexed and stretched my fingers, feeling a sense of warmth and unease where my skin was still open from my earlier climb. The brick, at least, would be gentler on my fingers than jagged metal. Positive thinking gets you places.
Creeping forward, I stooped down to keep out of sight from the front door. If there's anything I know about tactical geniuses, it's that they don't leave obvious entrances unguarded. Near the wall, an enormous burr oak hid me from most directions.
I pulled my hat down hard so it wouldn't fall off. My big toe fit in the crack in the concrete facade of the ancient library. I pushed my way up, reaching high above my head to the next handhold. Step, reach, step, reach. I slowly made my way up. Ten meters then twenty passed below me. Branches of the tree scraped my back.
My toe slipped, sliding out of its hold and ripping the toenail clean off. I cursed under my breath and held tight to the weathered brick with my sore fingernails. My hands were bleeding again, and now so was my toe. A warm-water sensation of not-pain flowed from the tips of my fingers and toes. I was glad I had dulled my pain with neurotech, but a little worried about what I'd have to deal with when I turned everything back on.
I jammed my bloody toe back into the wall.
The window was almost in reach. A few more pulls and I'd be there.
Voices drifted up from below. I froze, my numb fingers digging into the cracks between the bricks.
"Just signal when you catch her." Connor's voice carried in the cooling night wind. "I'll keep an eye from above, in case she tries to sneak away."
"Sure."
"Start down in the basement and work your way up. Daryl, you stick by the door to the stairs. We don't want her doubling back on you."
"Uh-huh."
"Charlie, you better go full stealth for this."
"But—"
"I don't give a shit if it hurts. Bend the fucking light all the way or that bitch is going to make a fool out of you again." Silence held heavy in the night air for several long moments. "Anything moves outside this building, I'm gonna toast it from above, so y'all better ping me before stepping outside to pee, you hear?"
The deep hum of the truck rumbled in my chest. My stiff fingers protested, but I scrambled up another meter to a window barred with wrought iron. I wrenched the bars apart, scattering dust everywhere. Squeezing, I slipped inside the building and landed heavily on an old desk.
My enhanced eyes adjusted to the dim light. Rows of shelves stretched out before me, bookshelves designed for a time long gone when books made of dead tree were a common thing. Everyone knew paper books were better and everyone knew how valuable they were. Still, paper was a thing of the past, a relic of a time long ago when such things mattered.
The looters hadn't been kind. A few scraps of leather were all that remained of the thousands of tomes that once occupied this library. Dust covered everything, from the shelves to the floor. It hung in the air and swirled to life at the slightest movement. I hopped down onto the floor.
"Hetty," I said, "I'm inside."
"She there?"
"I don't know. Gotta stay quiet now. The Roth boys are searching the place. Connor is above, watching."
"Just find the girl, Winston. Forget about the Roth boys. That many stars and you can buy shiny new guns."
I gritted my teeth. She was right, but something about it bothered me. A nagging feeling, like I
was supposed to be doing something else, kept tickling the back of my skull. Also, I doubted my ability to catch the girl with almost no weaponry and very little tech. I didn't get to being the best damn bounty hunter by using nothing but sunshine and roses. It's the toys that gave me the edge. She seemed a bit trickier than your average street thug. The idea sent a wave of pride through my spine. There was no reason for pride that I could remember. Still, the feeling was there.
Connor had instructed his boys to start at the bottom and work their way up. It, therefore, made sense for me to start at the top and work my way down. I had no idea how I would deal with Connor and his aerial firepower, but I figured I'd deal with that later. First step was to find the girl.
I pulled my Colt .45 and looked at it in the greenish light of my artificial senses. It was all but useless to me. Even if I thought it could take down the girl, it would still be so noisy it'd pull the Roth boys down on me in seconds. No, I'd have to come up with something better.
As far as I'm aware, there's only one weapon better than a decent gun: charm. Hell, a winning smile ought to be worth five guns. Maybe ten. I stood straight and adjusted my hat. Brushing the dust and debris off of my coat, I hoped as hard as I could that my nicest smile would draw attention away from my bloody hands and feet.
I walked.
As I strode through the endless aisles of the long-dead library, I reached into the pockets of my coat, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. The warm feeling of nicotine and tar soothed me. I let the cigarette dangle on my lip as I crossed the library and doubled back to cross again.
Then I saw what I was looking for. In the dust near a vent was a single small footprint. I bent down to look at it closely. The edges were sharp, so I knew it was recent. I judged the distance from the vent and the angle where its maker must have pushed off. The trajectory likely took the owner straight toward a three-meter shelf across the aisle from the vent.
I grabbed the shelf and pulled myself up, peeking over the top. Sure enough, the surface up there had been disturbed. The trail led across the top of the shelf and then disappeared. I walked to where it ended and checked the nearby shelves, smiling when I picked up the trail. This was likely one of the easiest trails I'd ever followed; it was a shame I didn't have proper weaponry to take down the target.
The trail went like this for nearly an entire cigarette. Then it stopped.
I peered at the adjacent shelves. I looked at the trail to see if she might have doubled back. I looked at shelves farther away, not sure how far she could jump.
Taking off my hat, I scratched my head and tried to figure what was going on. I pinched out my smoke and flicked it to the ground. I flipped through a few optical sensor arrays, picking up faint traces of residual heat and radiation. Nothing really gave me a good clue about where the girl had gone to. It must have been a false trail. In frustration, I flipped off the sensors in my eyes and peered out into the dark room.
She was there.
The waif of a girl was looking at me with puzzlement all over her face. She was small, with straight hair tied up into ponytails and large almond eyes. She was sitting cross-legged right where the trail ended.
"Lena," I said. "Howdy." Boom. I brought out the smile. I scrambled to put my hat back on so I could tip it properly.
She stared, tilting her head to one side.
"I don't mean you no harm, miss," I said, holding my hands palm out towards her. "Just thinking you might like a chat."
Lena took a turn at smiling. It was a dazzling smile, a charming smile worth ten guns, at least. She had me outgunned in charm-and in speed.
The girl kicked faster than I could even think the idea of kicking. Her heel connected with my jaw and my head snapped back. I stumbled into the shelf behind me.
Metal shelves screeched, twisting and collapsing sideways. My eyes grew wide. I turned and grabbed the shelf, steadying it. Like a slow-motion train wreck, it just kept moving to the next shelf; every time I grabbed part of it, another piece came off in my hand. It was all I could do to keep the noise down as it continued to slowly lean to one side.
"Listen, I…" I slid around the end of the shelf and propped the whole shelf up with my back. The effort wasn't much, but beads of sweat ran down my neck. If the Roth boys had heard the noise, we'd be in trouble. "Lena, listen…"
She hopped forward and landed silently right on top of the shelf I was holding up. "Yes, hunter? What is it?" Her voice was sweet, but her tone was mocking. Twisting around, I could see the grin on her face.
My grip slipped and we shifted down. The shelf touched the one next to it, and that shelf began to wobble.
"Peace," I said. "I'm just here to talk."
Her grin faded. Her brow turned down in anger, and her beautiful eyes flashed a harsh blue. "Hunters don't talk. Hunters track and capture and kill."
I couldn't argue with that.
"I'm not stupid, cowboy." Her knuckles turned white where she gripped the corner of the shelf. The metal shuddered under the tension of her grip. "You're just trying to trick me. I know a safe place, and you want to keep me away from it."
"There's no safe places, girl."
She leaned down, her face inches from mine. "A safe place where nothin' and nobody can find me." She grinned again, but her eyes just said fear.
"Listen," I said. "There's no safe place till we take down those Roth boys. I suggest we team up till that's done and then head our separate ways." I said it with all the charisma of a hyperactive coyote.
Her smile darkened into a frown. "I thought we'd already done that."
"Done what?"
"Gone our separate ways."
My jaw clenched and my head throbbed. "Miss," I said, "I don't recall making any such arrangement."
"Suppose you don't remember a lot of stuff."
Our eyes met and my jaw hardened. My muscles tensed as I made ready to step out from under the shelf and make a grab for the girl. To hell with the plan. To hell with charm. The girl knew about my memory problems, which probably meant she was responsible for them. A man doesn't much appreciate someone messing with his brain.
She smiled, and thoughts of grabbing her slipped away. "Well, Doc Twang, I believe we have a deal."
I bristled at the name. If I hadn’t been in such a tight spot I don’t know what I might have done, but, things being as they were, I calmed myself and nodded. I’d been beat.
Lena hopped down off of the shelf and stood next to me. The tops of her ponytails didn't come to my shoulder, and I'd be damned if she weighed more than thirty kilos. She stuck her hand out and I shook it. My back still supported the shelf. Lena darted away and returned with a couple of steel chairs. She used them to prop up the shelf, and I was able to extract myself without much noise.
I motioned for her to follow me, and we set out quietly across the library. Rather, I was quiet and she was absolutely silent. Twice I looked back just to make sure she was still there, only to find that she was right next to me. She could have killed me, stuck a knife in my ribs, or shot me. I like to pretend that I didn't know it at the time, that I somehow didn't realize how dangerous she was. It's not true. I knew what she was. I knew she could end me whenever she wanted. Maybe I even hoped for it. It'd be a hell of a lot easier than what I figured I was headed for.
We reached a row of shelves near a wide spiral staircase leading down to the lower level. Crouching low, I pulled my knife out and motioned the girl close.
"Gotta split them up," I said. "Do you think you can lure Daryl away so I can jump Charlie on the stairs?"
"How come you're here?" Her expression was dead serious.
"When a fellow gets older, he needs to hold a job." I looked down at the wicked blade of my hunting knife. "Hunting was the most legal thing I could find to put food on the table."
Her expression didn't change. "You hunt little girls for food?"
"I don't suppose I'd put it quite like that."
She looked at me for a few seconds, blinki
ng innocently. When I didn't think she had any more questions, I continued to explain my plan.
"If you were to make some noise to draw—"
"Do you like it?"
"What?"
"Being a bounty hunter."
My jaw clenched. "It has its perks."
"But you don't like it."
"I didn't say that."
"Sure you did."
"No, I—"
"How long have you been a hunter?"
"I…" My mind went blank. How long had it been? Seemed like forever, but then, what was the rest of my life before that? I remember working, doing something else. What was it? "Long time."
"You say it has its perks, but your body says you don't like it. How does your body know that when you don't?"
I turned to her and met her gaze. Lavender flashes of light blazed across her eyes. The naked eye couldn't tell how much tech she was walking around with, but my own scanners might show me something. I mentally switched on my own tech and waited as the visual overlay flashed into my vision. I blinked when what I saw wasn't what I expected.
Lena was gone.
"You can't see me with that old tech, you know." Her voice was right in front of me. "I'm fancy."
I flipped my scanner off and she was back.
"How?"
"I'm fancy."
"Yeah, you said that."
"It's true." She smiled a huge mischievous grin.
"My tech ain't old."
"Obsolete."
"It ain't."
"Obsolete, obsolete." She grinned. "Why do you think they want me so bad?"
"Because you're the boss's daughter."
Her smile faded. She looked away.
I wanted to know more but couldn't figure out how to ask. "So," I said, "you lead Daryl up here, he'll chase you as far as you like."
"And Charlie will come up the stairs."
I nodded.
Grit and Grace: A Metal and Men Novella (Metal and Men Series Book 1) Page 2