Oh, yeah. I knew what I was doing. It felt good to be confident again. I mean, come on. My confidence had slipped some since a Runner had washed up on my beach, burned my home, probably killed my dog, and kidnapped me.
Four players, no limit, Texas Hold ’Em.
Winner took all.
Bring it.
“What’s your name, sweetheart? I said softly to the child, who had been placed in the middle of our game like the trophy she was. She stayed mute, not willing to answer. I couldn’t blame her.
The men—animals, really—had been throwing their chips at her when they bet. I accused them of splashing the pot and told them to knock it off. They stopped. Still, some chips were stuck in her hair and my anger grew. No child should suffer this humiliation.
I’d bought my buy-in with Starbucks. I tossed in a third packet when I saw the chip stack Dangerous Guy, who I now knew as Tank, had in front of him.
I thought I might need a few more chips with him in the game. I was right. We were playing with casino checks; most people knew them as simply poker chips, and they were from the now-underwater Vegas casinos. Imagine my surprise when I found one with a stripper named Bambi on it. She even had her pole.
But it was the chip I was using as my card protector that amazed me the most. Mr. December, from the Thunder Down Under all-male review, smiled up at me. The sight flipped my heart over and then back again. I decided that, win or lose, I was stealing it.
The child had been watching me with wary eyes that were the most remarkable shade of brown I had ever seen, rimmed in light gold, and the color of malt whiskey. She looked on with a scared and wary expression. Even though she was grimy, with matted hair, she looked well fed and had on nice pajamas. A gold cross hung around her neck.
Someone had taken good care of this little girl; that much was clear. I wondered, were they still alive to miss her?
I looked at my moon band. Shit. Gabriel’s fight was in less than thirty minutes. I was running out of time.
I looked down at my hole cards.
A seven and a nine of hearts. Any book would’ve told me to fold. The other players were feigning indifference, but not too well. They had something big.
Twenty-nine minutes and counting.
I had to make my move. If I made a straight or a flush, I could probably take whatever they had.
“Screw it,” Zombie said. “All or nothing. I’m bored with this game.” He looked at the little girl with hunger. I fought down the bile that rose in my throat as I watched him.
“I’m game. I’m in. Winner takes all,” Water Wings said.Tank studied me. I knew I was going all-in. This was the hand. I could take them all down. Or lose miserably. But either way I was getting the girl. I readied a blade in my lap. The easy way was if I won. The hard way was if I lost. Call me a cheater, a sore loser, whatever, but this child, either way, was coming with me.
I gave Nick and Alec our prearranged sign, stroking my chin, then running two fingers under my neck as if swishing my long hair out of my face. It was a get-ready sign. Things could get messy fast.
Looking at Tank, I shoved my chips at the feet of the little girl as she sat cross-legged and pale. She knew what was going on. My heart hurt for her. “It will be over soon, sweetheart,” I whispered.
“All in,” I said, pushing my chips against the little girl’s toes.
“Call,” Tank said. Then the bastard stood, grabbed his chips, and rained them down over the child’s head.
What a monster.
Chapter Twenty-three
Zombie dealt.
We all watched his every move. No one trusted anyone at this makeshift table. Tank even made him take off his ratty jacket. It was the old nothing-up-your-sleeve paranoia. The odor from Zombie’s armpits almost knocked me over. I’d have to thank Tank for that. Nick and Alec, who got up to huddle around the table for the big hand, held their noses. I frowned and shook my head when Alec said, “Take a shower already.”
I didn’t want the boys to forget that these were dangerous men who would kill them just because they could.
I heard a small voice, a whisper so soft I almost missed it. “Good luck.”
Looking up from the cards, I slid my sunglasses down on the bridge on my nose and met the gaze of the little girl. I saw fear in her eyes. And hope.
“Luck has nothing to do with it, sweetheart,” I said, winking at her as I palmed the Mr. December chip. She saw me do it. I put a finger up to my lips like we had a secret, gave her a reassuring smile, and reached out to stroke her little foot. I pushed my shades back in place.
“Hey. Get your hands out of the pot until you win it.” Water Wings sneered at me and jerked the chain on the little girl’s foot. “And no pawing the prize”—he smiled, showing tobacco-stained gums—“until later.”
“She’s mine,” Zombie said. “I got the hand.” He reached for the chain to jerk the girl toward him.
I caught the steel links before they could cause any more damage to an already bruised and swollen ankle.
“Knock it off, you pigs,” I said. I stood and slapped the table with my hand. “Hand over the key. We’re unchaining her. It’s not like she can get away from all of us. I mean, how old is she? Seven? Ya think you big, bad men can handle a seven-year-old?”
“Nine.”
We all stopped and stared. The girl glared at all of us. “I’m nine. And I can run fast.” My heart dropped. I was doing my best to get her unchained for a quick escape if the cards didn’t fall the right way. Letting us all know she could run fast was so not a good thing.
Tank laughed. “Run if you can, little girl. I like to chase.” He produced the key and unlocked the chain.
“Thank you, God.” I muttered under my breath.
The little girl put her head down and curled into a ball.
“Come on; let’s do it,” Water Wings urged. “Deal.”
The first three cards, the flop, missed my straight draw entirely. But two hearts came. My flush draw was alive. One of the cards was a queen. I saw a tic in the jaw of Tank. Water Wings looked disappointed. Zombie looked like he was gonna jump right out of the chair and grab the girl. But I knew I almost had him beat.
The turn card, or fourth street, as some people called it, brought a blank. A card that didn’t help any of us. Right now Tank had the best hand. If he won, I’d have to kill him to get the girl. Or die trying.
Now the river. My palms started to sweat and I wiped them on my jeans. I needed dry hands to hold my blades. And it looked like I was gonna have to use them. Damn it.
I looked at Nick and Alec, who had slowly circled around behind me. Good. They were ready to run when I gave the word.
The last card fell.
An ace.
Water Wings looked like he might cry. Good.
Tank’s hand just went down in flames, and he didn’t know it. He looked smug and eyed the little girl in a way that made me want to throw up. It wasn’t sexual. It was something else. He’d hurt her and enjoy every minute. How I hated the man. Zombie jumped out of his chair, flipping it over. It crashed and shattered into splinters on the cement.
He slammed down aces. “Ship it!” He tried to grab the girl from behind. She screamed, turned, kicked him in the gut, and scooted over to me.
He doubled over in pain. “You little bitch,” he wheezed.
I put my arm around the child and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay, honey. That’s been my name all night too.”
Color drained from Tank’s face, replaced by a white-hot, seething anger. He’d lost. And the man didn’t like losing.
I stood slowly and, as Zombie caught his breath, I laid my cards on the table in front of his nose. I’d hit my miracle card. The last card to fall, the ace that had given Zombie his set, had been the ace of hearts. Flush. Mine.
“My flush takes it down.” I leaned over to Zombie and said, “You ship it.”
Lifting the child off the table I hugged her. “We won, sweetie, we won.” And then I whispe
red so softly, a whisper meant just for her. “You’re safe now, little one, you’re safe.”
I passed her off to Nick, and he and Alec each took one of her hands in theirs. I gathered up the coffee.
Zombie, however, didn’t take it that well.
“You slow-rolling bitch.”
Oh, boy. Here it comes.
But I had to agree: I did slow-roll him, which entails turning your cards over dead last when you know you have won, letting an opponent think he won the pot—in this case, coffee and a kid—for as long as possible. It was a creep thing to do, and yeah, it did make me a bitch, first-class, but hey, I’d played all my life with Runners. Getting your throat slit at the table for drawing out on the river; well, now, that’s something to be pissed about.
“You cheated!” he screamed. “No one calls two raises with a seven-nine, hoping to hit a flush.”
“I do.”
He drew a knife. But I beat him to it. In fact, I had two. It just paid to think ahead.
I sank one into his hand, pinning him to the table. He screamed in pain. I put the other to his throat. I was going to kill him, kill all of them, but not this way. Not like this. The kids had been traumatized enough for one night. And, hell, the night wasn’t over. How I wished it were.
“Look, you poor loser, bad sport, asshole, whatever. I won. You lost. Get over it. And just to show you what a great player I am, in the name of sportsmanship, I’m leaving you a packet of coffee. Just one, mind you, but it’s more than you deserve.”
“Really?” Water Wings looked like he wanted to hug me.
“Really.”
Tank was up already putting water into a bashed-up teapot. He paused just long enough to slam a fist onto the hilt of my knife, driving it farther into Zombie’s hand, just when I thought Zombie couldn’t scream any louder.
“Well, boys,” I said backing up slowly with the kids, so proud of Nick and Alec for remembering our exit plan, “I’d like to say it’s been fun, but I’m not gonna lie: I kind of hate your town. No offense.”
“And speaking of lying and hating, that Tsunami Blue chick? Well, she lies all the time.”
“She does?” Water Wings looked like I’d just told him there was no Santa Claus.
“But—” One of my boys started to speak up, and I shot up a hand in warning, shaking my head at him. He backed down.
“Hate to break it to you, but yeah, she does. Like that wave tonight? No worries. If I were you I’d just sit back and enjoy your brew.” I looked at Zombie, who was whimpering and trying to pull my knife out of his hand.
“Looks like you’re pretty much stuck here anyway.”
Tank laughed and walked over to me. I kept my blade between us.
“Been nice knowin’ ya, Bambi. I’ll be seeing you around.”
Not likely. “See ya, Tank.”
I was almost past the Dumpster with all three kids when I heard Tank one more time. “If I do see you, Bambi, I’ll kill you. And I’ll take my time, just to do it right.”
I pushed the kids out into the street, turned, and walked back to face Tank.
“You know, it’s damn near impossible to make friends in this town. But if I ever see you again, I’ll be sure and do the same.”
How perverse were we? It sounded like we had just agreed to become pen pals. But what did it matter? I walked away, knowing the wave was coming, knowing all three would be sitting around having coffee when it came, and knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell that any of them would survive.
Good fucking riddance.
Chapter Twenty-four
The kids and I sat huddled together along two huge totem poles that had toppled with the last wave. Knocked down but not destroyed, the weathered wood still bore the intricate, proud carvings of an eagle and a raven.
I felt honored to be in their company.
It gave me strength to think that if these magnificent cedars could survive a wave, a tsunami, then maybe tonight, these kids could too.
I was right in the middle of making plans to make sure that happened. But I needed a little cooperation here.
“But, Bambi,” Nick protested, “you said yourself that Tsunami Blue lies, that no wave is coming.”
“Yeah,” Alec chimed in. “You said.”
Our new little friend just sat and stared at my arm. I’d given her my fleece—the kid was so cold having only pj’s on—and my full-sleeve tat was exposed. What a night to wear a tank. Now I was a walking billboard in a town where most, it would seem, thought Tsunami Blue was Satan. Great. Just great.
I looked at my watch. It was time to get hold of this situation with the boys. Now. They wanted to see the fight. They couldn’t understand why so many people were ignoring Tsunami Blue’s warning.
Frankly, neither could I. I must be losing my touch. Maybe I should try that 1-900 voice I had used on the Runner Charlie. I touched my black eye and winced. Yeah, Blue. ’Cause that just worked out so well.
Gabriel was running out of time. I was running out of time. And these kids were too. They just didn’t know it.
“Nick, Alec, listen to me.” They must have heard something in my voice, because they both went silent. Maybe they heard the fear.
“You know when I told you that Gabriel and I met Tsunami Blue?” They nodded. The little girl continued to stare.
“Well, it’s partly true.”
“Partly?” It was so dark I wasn’t sure which twin was talking.
“Gabriel met her.” And kidnapped her. And burned her house down. And lost her kayak, and… Okay, rein it in, Blue. They don’t have to know that part.
“You didn’t meet her?” Who asked that? It didn’t matter. At least they were paying attention.
“I didn’t have to, boys. You see, I’m not… They can’t know who you are. They can’t know. It’s too dangerous…too dangerous. Kids talk.
Too late, I thought. There was no other way.
“I’m not Bambi, boys.”
“Huh?”
“I’m—”
“You’re Tsunami Blue,” a small voice said in the dark. “You’re her.”
“The new kid’s crazy.”
“Yeah, she’s losin’ it.”
“Stop, boys, just stop.” My voice had that pleading quality that sometimes bled out over the airwaves. And it gave me an idea.
“Nick, Alec, little one,” I said softly. “Give me your hands. Everyone.”
“Oh, man,” one twin complained.
“What if someone sees us?” The other twin.
“’Kay.” The voice of our little one.
Joining hands in the dark with the intimacy only friendship could bring, we connected. The fact that it was pitch-black and I pinkie-swore to the boys that no one could see us helped too.
“Now close your eyes and listen. Listen to my voice.”
“This is crazy,” said Alec.
“Lame,” said Nick.
“Just listen. I saved your lives once tonight, and I’m trying to do it again.”
“Okay. But this is embarrassing.” Twin One.
“Do we get to sing ‘Kumbaya’?” Twin Two.
“’Kay.”
All three on board, a relief.
Then, before I opened my mouth, the sea blew in with the mist and wrapped around the children.
Listen, it whispered, Listen. Listen. Listen.
The kids shivered and got real quiet.
I took a deep breath of the cold northern winter night and looked to the stars for comfort. They were there, like always. I closed my eyes and for I moment I was home again on my beach, with Max playing in the surf. And it was time to broadcast, time for a moon bounce.
“And so, my friends,” I began, “the moon is full, the sea calm, and the wave? The wave, my friends, sleeps tonight. And so can you. This is Tsunami Blue signing—”
“You really are her?” Alec broke in, and I could hear the awe in his voice.
“Yes.” I squeezed his hand. “I really am.”
“Knew it,” said our newest little member.
The kids couldn’t see me blinking back tears. I took a moment so I could trust my voice. I had to get these kids to safety. To send them running for high ground. To send them running for their lives. But I couldn’t take them myself and still save Gabriel.
First, the four of us smeared mud and dirt along my arm to cover what we could of my tattoo. The boys enjoyed Project Conceal a bit too much, and before I knew it I looked like a female mud wrestler from Vegas. Great.
As we worked, I had noticed only the swarms of people heading for the cage in a constant stream of ragtag, filthy bodies, pushing and shoving, fighting to get ahead of the herd. It was only after watching a woman with a group of kids moving in the opposite direction that I noticed a much smaller group moving away from the crowd. Toward high ground.
And that was how I had found Jess, a middle-aged woman who was sweet and kind and trustworthy.
In short order, she taught me that not all Uplanders were created equal. Some were evil by nature. I guessed they just got tired of being wet. Trust me, that would piss anyone off. But there were many more who still had their humanity left.
Nick, Alec, and our little one now stood next to Jess and not next to me. She’d agreed to take them to higher ground. And—thank you, God—she was taking them now.
“Nick, Alec, take care of our little one. She’s in your hands now. And, Jess, thank you.” I gave the round, stout woman a hug and a packet of Starbucks. She smelled of apples and cinnamon and trust and hope. Okay, I knew there was no smell for trust and hope, but it seemed right, felt right, to entrust the Uplander woman before me with the kids. And the sea, whispering all around me now, agreed.
Jess had no idea who I really was. And the kids, who now seemed to understand the danger, had been pinkie-sworn to keep the secret. A secret that would save their lives should they encounter the wrong people. Which was likely. Which made me sick with fear. I tried not to show it.
And I had been right about the boys. They were not being raised by Runners after all. In fact they had laughed when I asked them. New False Bay held a small colony of Uplanders, a network of survivors gathered together by who else? Gabriel Black. Just who was this man, really? I was determined to find out.
Tsunami Blue Page 17