by Darrell Bain
“Want out,” Booger Bear said.
“Sorry, you'll have to wait another hour,” Gary told him.
The cat wasn't able to reproduce a human sigh but he gave out a sound remarkable akin to one.
Maria couldn't get back to sleep. After a moment she sat up and leaned back against a crate next to Gary. She reached down and gathered the cargo pallet and stuffed it behind them for padding against the bumps.
Booger Bear sighed again before crawling up into her lap and quickly dozing off. If he couldn't get out to stretch his legs or relieve himself, Maria had a very soft lap.
Gary looked down at his pet with a fond gaze. “I've never seen him take to anyone like he has to you."
“Makes sense,” Maria said. “I do have some cat genes, after all."
“Still ... Booger knows who's naughty and who's nice. He has an innate sense about people and he obviously has you on his good list."
“I'm glad."
Gary decided that he really had to find out more about the young woman who had so suddenly become such an overwhelming influence on his life. “So long as we're just riding, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?” He suggested, then amended, “If you want to, that is."
For a long time Maria remained silent. The man she was riding with was certainly a different breed of male than she was used to. He was quiet but competent in emergencies, as she well knew, and he appeared to like her, as she did him. But how would he feel when he discovered that she had been prostituted since early girlhood, even if most of it was forced? In her experience, men held nothing but disdain for her kind, scorning any kind of close relationship. And her altered status made it even worse. Most of the Johns treated her as if she were a toy, an object rather than a person. She knew that some couples liked each other, even fell in love and married and stayed together, but she had little comprehension of what a normal relationship with a man entailed.
She glanced to the side, seeing his face reposed in a patient wait for her answer. Finally she said “Are you sure you want to know?"
Gary knew almost immediately that she must have been hurt terribly somehow and somewhere. “Only if you're comfortable talking about it,” he said gently.
Maria sighed, making almost the same sound that Booger Bear had a short time ago. “All right. It began in Mexico...."
* * *
CHAPTER NINE
Gary listened with growing horror as Maria related her story against the backdrop of the dimly lighted space and the sway and bump of the truck as it traveled north toward Dallas. He had known intellectually that traffic in altered human beings existed but her story brought the fact home in a way that nothing else could have. By the time she finished, his horror had turned to anger toward anyone who would treat a person as badly as she had been. And she was as human as he was. Long ago he had resolved any moral and philosophical doubts about the mixing of genes from other animals with humans and vice versa. The only ethical issue in his mind was exploitation of the end product of such combinations. He didn't believe that humanity was inherent in appearance, nor even in the ability to manipulate language and abstract concepts. To him, it went even deeper, to the basic sense of worth that all humans should enjoy, and anyone depriving humans such as Maria and Booger Bear—and now himself—of their freedom and pride in their self awareness were worse than evil; they were the dregs of humanity, no more worthy of a place in society than captains and owners of the sixteenth and seventeeth century slave ships who had visited so much carnage and despoilment on so many innocent beings.
Maria didn't look at Gary the whole time she was talking; she was afraid of seeing revulsion on his face instead of understanding. As she neared the end of her story she found a storm of emotion working its way to the surface of her mind, events that she had totally forgotten coming back and erupting into her thoughts like unrepentant prodigal sons returning to upset their homes and parents and siblings all over again. Even when she was being beaten or subjected to degrading acts she had never broken, keeping a core of herself intact against the unwholesomeness of her environment. Now, the suppressed memories roamed through her mind like unwelcome guests in an overcrowded home, poking into rooms she had kept closed for too long a time. Unnoticed, tears began trickling down her cheeks. She felt an overwhelming tightness in her chest that threatened to suffocate her if it wasn't let loose and at last it came welling forth in unwanted cries.
Gary was appalled at what she had gone through. He wondered how she had ever managed to reach adulthood and still remain sane. Her tears and deep wracking sobs tore at him almost as badly as they did her. He put his arm around her and gently, against her faltering resistance, drew her to his chest and let her cry. Before long he was crying with her, his tears dripping from his chin and falling onto her face, mixing with hers.
Booger Bear sensed the emotional turmoil taking place but had no idea what it was about nor what to do about it—except to try to comfort his new friend as his human was attempting to do. He added his soft, affectionate purrs to Gary's murmuring sounds of comfort and at last the crying stopped.
Maria eased back from Gary's chest a few inches and dared to look up at him. She raised her hand and touched a finger to the wetness of his face as if assuring herself that his tears had been genuine. No one had ever cried for her. She hadn't expected that anyone ever would.
Gary tried to smile and got a tentative parting of Maria's lips in return. He lowered his head and gently touched her lips with his own, then quickly withdrew.
He didn't know it, but that gentle, undemanding kiss was the best thing he could possibly have done. She lay her head back on his chest, pleased that she could do so and not have him demand anything else. For the time being, she was too emotionally wrung out to respond to any further overtures and she was grateful that he appeared to know it.
* * * *
Gary felt the truck slowing. He touched his thumb to forefinger and was startled to see that almost an hour had passed since Maria first began telling of her travails and journeys. For the first time since then, he spoke. “It feels like we're stopping, Maria. Are you okay now?"
“Yes,” she said, stroking the cat still curled up in her lap.
“Look, I'm sorry for the way you've been treated. I only wish there was something I could do to help you forget it. Life shouldn't be like that.” He knew his words were completely inadequate but it was all he knew to say.
“Thank you. I've never unburdened myself like that to anyone. It's in the past though. If you can live with it, I can."
“Nothing that happened was your fault. I think you're a fine person. And so does Booger.” He reached down and placed his hands on the cat, stroking him along with her. Their hands touched. Maria squeezed his briefly then made signs of being ready to get up. He withdrew his arm from around her just as the truck stopped. A few minutes later, the back hatch opened.
“All out, kids,” the driver announced. Her voice wasn't nearly as cheerful as the last time he had heard her speak, and there was no smile on her face.
Gary climbed down from the cargo unit then reached up to help Maria. She steadied herself on his shoulder as she came out of the tiny compartment. Booger Bear was last, but he hesitated. He sensed that something was wrong, though he didn't know what.
“Come on down, Booger,” Gary said, holding out his arms. The cat refused to move.
“Gary...” Maria's emotion-laden voice came from behind him, like the start of a dirge.
He turned around to find two men clad in the gray jumpsuits of Federal Marshals pointing laserguns at him. He slowly raised his hands. Maria already had hers up.
The driver had a hangdog expression on her face that added to the crowsfeet around her eyes. “I'm sorry, folks. They were waiting on me to stop. Someone ratted."
“Be damned glad we're not arresting you too,” One of the Marshals said.
The other moved toward the hatch of the truck. “Who were you calling for?"
&nbs
p; “No one. Just my pet,” Gary said, hoping the man would leave Booger alone. Perhaps the truck driver would give him a home.
“We'll see. Keep them covered, Walt.” He moved to the hatch.
Gary took a deep breath. “Run, Booger!” He shouted, with all the concern he could muster in his voice. He tensed his muscles, hoping he wouldn't get shot for warning his pet to flee.
Booger Bear shot out of the back of the truck like a black streak, passing under the laser beam the Marshal sent at him. It hit something flammable right inside the hatch and almost immediately smoke began boiling out. As Booger raced away toward some nearby brush the gunman whirled halfway around, instinctively trying for another shot rather than watching his captive.
Ignoring what the other lawman might be doing, Gary dived at the one shooting at Booger Bear. He knocked him off his feet and grappled desperately for his weapon. It went off with a thunderous roar near his ear. The slug missed by millimeters but the laser beam scorched his cheek, making him wince.
Behind him he heard a groan as someone took a blow, but he couldn't take time to look. The Marshall he was fighting was a powerful man. He gritted his teeth and used all his strength in a burst of power to try to force the gun away from his head. It was no use. It moved only inches then started coming back toward his face. His other arm was pinned and he simply didn't have the strength to overcome his opponent. The barrel of the weapon that was fixed in his sight looked as big as a howitzer as it got closer.
“No, don't!” He heard Maria scream. The terror in her voice gave him the power for one last effort. Still holding the gun away from his head he brought his knee up between their interlocked bodies, trying for a blow to the groin. It glanced off the thigh of the other man with no effect. At the same time he felt the muscles in his arm begin to tremble with his last desperate effort to keep the gun away. From somewhere close he heard the sound of another blow and Maria's next scream was cut off like it had been chopped with a hatchet.
Just when he thought he was finished, Booger Bear intervened. Gary's pet had streaked to cover then turned upon hearing Maria's screams. When he saw his human in trouble, he began creeping back, waiting for an opening. When Gary tried to knee his opponent, he saw an opportunity and sprang into action. He landed next to the struggling figures on his third bound and immediately began clawing at the Marshal's eyes.
The gun went off again, perilously close to both of them, and so close to Gary's ear this time that it deafened him to all else. Booger Bear's fighting yowl increased in volume, then just as Gary felt he could not possibly keep the gun away for a second longer, Bogger Bear's claws found an eye. The Marshall screamed and relaxed his hold on the gun, grasping for the body of the cat. His hands closed around one of his hind legs and he used brute force to pull the cat from his face and fling it away. That gave Gary an opportunity to free his other arm and roll free. He and the Marshal saw the gun on the ground at the same time. The Marshal made the mistake of diving for it, forgetting that Gary was still armed. He got his gun out just in time and fired, pulling the trigger all the way back. The slug exploded with startling force in the other man's chest, flinging him to the ground amidst a spray of blood and bits of smoking bone charred by the laser beam that had preceded the slug by a microsecond.
For the first time since the fight started, Gary was able to pay attention to what else was happening. He turned around, still on his knees, just in time to see the other Marshal rising up from Maria's prone body. His face and arms were marred by deep, parallel slashes from Maria's cat-like nails that were bleeding freely. One cut had traveled right through his lips, leaving them gaping open from the ugly wound. The Marshal dived for the gun that Maria had knocked from his hand and whirled to fire at Gary, but he was in too much of a hurry. The laser beam hit Gary in the forearm just ahead of the slug, which nicked the flesh but passed on through cleanly without exploding. The laser burn and cut from the slug were enough to spoil his own shot and knock the gun from his hand though, and he found himself staring into the barrel of the other man's weapon as he moved it to take better aim.
Just as Gary thought he was going to die, the Marshall got a startled look on his face and crumpled forward. The back of his garment was no longer gray, but red and smoking from the hole blasted in his spine. Beyond him, the truck driver stood, holding her gun ready, but it was all over—except for the flames and smoke boiling from the back of her truck.
“Sorry damn bastards,” the truck driver said, holstering her gun and running forward to lift Maria's body and begin pulling her away from the burgeoning flames boiling out of the cargo module of the truck. Gary could feel the heat from where he was, and it was growing hotter by the second. Seeing that Maria was being taken care of, he shielded his scorched face from the flames and looked for his pet.
Booger Bear was safe. He had been stunned when he hit a nearby concrete picnic bench, but he was already wobbling shakily back to his feet. Gary braved the erupting flames and ran to him. He gathered him into his arms and turned his back on the burning truck as he felt his hair beginning to singe. He ran toward where Maria's rescuer was dragging her further away and helped her with his good arm, cradling his pet in the one that had taken the hit. Between the two, they got Maria and themselves and the still-dazed cat safely back from the flames.
Gary spared no time for thanks until he checked to see that Maria was still breathing. When he saw her breasts moving he let out a sigh of relief, but continued his examination to make sure that she wasn't hurt any more than the bruise that he could see high on one cheek. But even as he was looking for more injuries, she began to regain consciousness. When Gary's face came into focus, she smiled and tried to sit up. Gary slid his hand behind her neck.
She rose up, then lay her head on her bent knees for a moment. When she did look up again, there were tears in her eyes. “I thought we were all going to die, just when I was beginning to live."
“Honey, you almost did die,” the truck driver said.
“Thanks to you, we didn't,” Gary said.
“The kitty helped."
“I would have expected him to, but why did you? Now you'll be wanted just like us."
She gave a short, mirthless laugh. “I already am bud. Didn't you hear the news? Altered humans that don't turn themselves in are outlaws now. Of course I might have shot the sons of bitches anyway for burning up my truck, but that's just a side issue."
Gary looked around, the import of her words not becoming clear just yet. The burning truck was parked on a length of dirt-covered tarmac in what was once a roadside park, though it was rife with overgrowth from lack of maintenance, and obscured from the nearby highway. Beyond the overgrowth a mix of pine and oak and sweetgum were growing unimpeded by logging that once had practically scoured the countryside clean. He wondered why the driver had stopped here in the first place.
Perhaps she saw his puzzled look because she sat down on another old picnic bench and said “I stopped here so I could decide what to do. Those feds must have been following pretty close, though damned if I know why, and I didn't recognize them in their fancy van. Once out of their home city, they usually don't bother with fugitives."
Gary decided he had best be honest with her. “There's political pressure being used to find me I think. I appreciate your help, but you'd probably be better off hitching a ride and separating yourself from us."
She grinned. “A little late for that now, don't you think? Oh by the way, I don't think we ever introduced ourselves. My name is Lea Springer."
“I'm Gary Daniels and this is Maria.” He came forward to shake the woman's hand, then had to sit down beside her. He suddenly felt dizzy.
The woman laughed. “Adrenaline overload, I think. Put your head down for a minute or two; it'll pass."
Gary did so, but continued the conversation. “What did you mean when you said you were deciding what to do? Were you talking about the Marshals?"
“Not really, though I'll confess I was wond
ering what it was going to be like, suddenly becoming an outlaw. I may skate the edges here and there but I've never done anything really outlandishly illegal."
“Then—oh! I'm sorry. It just now struck me. You implied that you were altered."
“Implied hell, I said as much. I am altered, and now I'm an outlaw, just like your friend."
“My name is Maria,” Maria said as she got up and joined them on the bench. “And thank you for helping."
“Sorry I didn't react sooner. I was worrying about my truck, but I saw pretty quickly that it was gone. And maybe I'm a bit overloaded myself. Anyway, I pulled in here out of the way so I could talk to you two before going any further. I wanted to know what your plans were."
* * *
CHAPTER TEN
Plans? What plans? Gary thought. “This is all new to me,” he said aloud. “I never thought it would come to this; with geneticists being required to register and work for the government and altered humans being completely outlawed. It's unconstitutional!"
Both Lea and Maria laughed without a bit of humor. Gary was chastened. Constitutional safeguards were going the way of the Dodo and Great Auk, and he thought the other two probably considered his remark the height of insanity.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I know what's happened but it all hasn't sunk in yet. Just a few days ago I was married, had a job and had never even shot at anyone, much less killed people. Now...” His voice trailed off.
“Now you're jobless, a wanted killer and you can add another charge of harboring fugitives: me and Maria here,” Lea filled in for him.
“I guess that sums it up,” Gary conceded. He started to say something else but a rumble in the background caught his attention. He looked around but saw nothing unusual that could account for the noise. It grew louder and then he recognized what it must be. He turned his gaze up to the sky. A plume of smoke was trailing from a distant point, widening as the source raced ahead of it on a plume of fire.