by James McEwan
“Good, he’s not dead yet.” Thad said.
“Dead yet, what do you mean dead?” Quincy asked, in a panic.
Doctor Hammer kneeled down next to Quincy and looked him in the eyes. “I hate to tell you this, but if we don’t get the venom out and get you some anti-venom soon you are not going to make it.” Quincy’s eyes grew large with fear, but Doctor Hammer placed his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry Thad has agreed to suck the venom out of your butt. That should slow the effects down and buy us time.”
Thad was nodding his head trying to help keep Quincy calm when it hit him what the doctor had just said. “What? Wait a minute! I volunteered to do what?”
Hammer looked up at Thad who was in a complete state of shock. “You have to suck it out, or he will die.”
“Suck it out, suck it out, please suck it out!” Quincy begged.
Thad thought about it for a second. “Suck on a man’s ass or let him die?” Then he remembered that he was not the doctor. “Why me, you’re the doctor, you suck it out.” Thad said.
“I would, but I fear that I’m old and would not be as effective as you would be in getting most of the venom out.” Doctor Hammer retorted.
Thad sighed and put his head down. “Okay I’ll do it.” He pointed at Quincy. “If you ever tell anyone about this I will kill you! Got it?”
Quincy laughed for the first time. “Like who in the hell am I going to tell? My buddies back home? Hey, guess what happened to me on Nueva Texas? I got bit in the ass by a venomous snake and some strange dude sucked on my ass to save me.”
“You do have a point.” Thad said as he knelt down to do what he had to do to save Quincy’s ass. He was about to start sucking when he could not help himself. “I guess now you can say I literally saved your ass.”
“Just shut up and suck, it really burns.” Quincy cried.
Thad took a deep breath then let it out slowly he bent down and stretched out his lips ready to place them on Quincy’s butt cheek when Doctor Hammer said. “That’s enough, Thad.”
Confused, both Quincy and Thad asked in unison. “What?”
“Look you will not be able to suck out enough venom to make a difference.” Doctor Hammer said as he handed Thad one end of what looked like a cooling tube from one of the grav bikes.
Thad took the hose and asked. “Then why in the world did you tell me to suck in his ass then?”
Doctor Hammer laughed. “I’m sorry, but I was just having a little fun with you.”
Thad’s faced flushed with anger. “Fun!”
“Oh calm down, son. Look, I also wanted to know what kind of man you really are, and now I know.”
“So what kind of man am I then?” Thad asked sternly.
“The kind of man that would do anything to save a person that he barely knows, and that my son is the best kind of man there is, a man, that I, for one, feel comfortable trusting my life with!”
“Great! That is all fine and good, but remember me, the guy with the venom pumping through my ass! Now, are you guys going to do something or just stand around all day having a love fest while I die with my bare ass in the air?” Quincy snapped at them.
Doctor Hammer spoke. “Quite right, Quincy. Okay, Thad hold this end of the tube over his bite marks.”
Thad did as instructed. “Now what?”
Hammer walked over the grav bike and turned on the cooling pump. Instantly the tube sucked down on Quincy’s skin and Quincy started to scream like a stuck pig. He was so loud that Doctor Hammer had to yell over him so Thad could hear. “You see we needed a really powerful suction to do the job right and out here the only thing I could think of was the cooling pump. So I cut the cooling line and reversed the pump flow turning it into a vacuum pump.”
If Thad had not known Doctor Hammer, he would have been impressed, but he just smiled, remembering his own Doctor Hammer fondly. After a few seconds the doctor shut down the pump, Thad lifted the tube up, and it made kind of a popping sound as the air rushed into to fill the vacuum that was created by the pump.
On Quincy’s butt cheek over the two holes, there was a quickly forming bruise. It was strange looking to see a perfectly round bruise. It looked like that he had gotten a hickie from a suction cup. Doctor Hammer looked at the blood flowing from the bite marks. “That’s what we want to see. Blood means we have gotten out all that we can. Now we just need to worry about what got into the blood stream.”
“Are guys done looking at my ass? I would like to pull my pants up now.”
“Yeah we are done, pull them up.” Thad said.
Quincy tried to move, but his body felt like Jello, and no matter what he did to try to control it, it seemed to do the opposite. He fumbled around for a minute before asking for help. “A little help here, please. I can’t seem to control things.” even his speech was starting to slur. Thad helped Quincy get his pants up.
“The toxin is disrupting his neural pathways. We bought him some time by sucking out what we could, but the remaining venom is still going to eventually damage his system to the point that the body will forget how to breathe or the heart will not get the message to beat.” Doctor Hammer said.
Thad lifted Quincy up and set him down on the back of his grav bike. He grabbed some cargo straps and started to strap him down. “We better stop wasting time and get moving if I’m not going to let him die.”
Doctor Hammer didn’t say a thing, instead, he nodded in agreement and walked over to his own bike. As he was about to throw his leg over the seat he noticed a splash of green and red on the side of the engine cover. He looked down and saw the little green snake that had bitten Quincy. It was dead, its little head was smashed, and he must have been flung off Quincy’s backside and into the grav-bike when Quincy was thrashing about.
He bent down, picked up the little dead snake, and lifted up so Thad could see it. “We are in luck. Now we have this little guy we can identify him and get the right anti-venom.” Doctor Hammer said.
“Great! Throw it in a cargo compartment and let’s move. He is not getting any better!”
Doctor Hammer tossed the snake’s body into a side compartment and then jumped on his bike. Thad twisted the accelerator control and they were off like two thoroughbred horses at the racetrack.
Chapter 10
Sergeant Rathbone was sitting in his patrol car in the same place as the day before. His face betrayed the nervous feeling in his gut as he waited for St. Claire to show up. He didn’t have to wait long before the passenger door opened and St. Claire sat down next to him. “Did you get what I needed?”
“Yeah, in the bag on the back seat.”
“Great, I need one more thing from you.” St. Claire said, as he closed the door.
“Dom, what in the hell have you gotten yourself into?” He didn’t wait for him to answer. “I mean, dammit, I got hauled into the station and questioned for hours after you left me. Of course, I said nothing and played stupid.”
“What in the world for?” St. Claire was confused.
“They traced my login and wanted to know what I wanted with the Dungier file.” he said as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
“Why in the hell would the brass care about that?” he paused thinking about it then he noticed the sweat on his friend's face. Instantly he knew something was not right. “No one on the force could break the encryption on that file besides no one but me knows what is in that file so there is no way it could be traced to me.”
Jimmy had slipped his hand over the holo keyboard and while St. Claire was distracted he typed out the message, ‘somehow they know we talked, it’s a trap get out now!’
At that precise moment, a sniper was lying in wait for him. His crosshairs now on St. Claire’s head and with all the necessary calculations made the sniper was ready to pull the trigger. Down in the car St. Claire looked at his friend who was looking at the screen. St. Claire looked at the screen to see the message then he nodded towards his friend.
Jimmy was
looking at his friend went he saw a glint of sunlight off the scope of the sniper and without thinking he grabbed St. Claire and pushed him down. St. Claire felt the strong hand of his friend slam him down, bending him over and pushing his head down between his knees. Then the sound of busting glass was followed by the crushing dead weight of Jimmy’s body. Warm blood showered St. Claire and he knew his friend just gave his life to save him.
St. Claire reached over and hit the emergency door release for the driver’s side. The door popped open and he pushed Jimmy’s lifeless body out the door. He felt bad leaving his friend dead in the street, but if he didn’t, he would be next to die. Just as he slid into the driver’s seat a round impacted the seat he had just vacated.
St. Claire floored the patrol car and its twin turbine engine answered the call for power and jumped forward like a champion frog in a jumping contest. The back window shattered as the car sped forward. In seconds, he was gone from the sniper's view. The sniper was not happy that he got the wrong target. He packed up his weapon and left his hiding spot.
St. Claire was still speeding away from the scene in the stolen police cruiser when the call came over the radio about his friend. “God damn it, they are going to try to pin this on me too!” he shouted and punched the dashboard. “I have to dump the cruiser fast before they vector in units to intercept me.” he said out loud as if someone was with him to hear him.
The next call that came over the radio was a call for all units to converge on his location. He slammed on the brakes and brought the cruiser to sliding, but controlled stop. He bailed out of the driver’s side door. He wanted to take off running, but he stopped and turned back. Inside, taped to the dashboard, was a picture of Jimmy’s wife and children. He grabbed the picture and tucked it into this pocket. In the distance, he could hear the sirens of the quickly approaching police cruisers.
Thinking quickly, he pushed a button on the door panel and the trunk popped open. He ran to the back and dug through the gear that was in the trunk. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for. He snatched up a couple of tear gas and smoke grenades and ran back to the front of the cruiser.
St. Claire really wished they had been incendiary grenades, but in a pinch, these would do. In the open,they pose very little threat, on the other hand, the heat they generate when ignited enclosed on cloth seats was more than enough to set the cruiser ablaze. He pulled the pins on the smoke grenades and tossed one on each seat, and then he pulled the pins on the tear gas ones and tossed them on the back seat. Right away, the car filled with smoke and by the time he was half a block away the police cruiser was burning away nicely, filling the air with thick toxic smoke giving him a nice distraction to escape.
Tears ran down St. Claire’s face as he ducked into a side alley trying to stay off the main streets. Not sure if the tears were for his friend or from the tear gas, maybe a little of both he thought. He could hear more sirens as he got farther and farther away. A police cruiser sped past the alley’s exit and after seeing it pass by St. Claire dove into an open doorway that faced the alley.
He knew that with the police looking for him, he needed to get out of the city. How to do to that was the problem on his mind. He couldn’t use any of the mass transit. All the sky trains and shuttles going between cities would be watched. He could try what the men in the stockyard did, steal a grav bike, and try his luck over the plains. That would be too slow. He needed to find them and fast, because the answers to all of this lay with them.
He was still standing in the back room of a small shop that sold woman’s lingerie and other clothing. The replication bots paid no attention to St. Claire as he tried to work out his next move. They just kept pumping out bras and panties as well as stockings and other lacy things. “Too bad I don’t have anyone to dress up in these.” he said as he held up black and red panties.
A deep rumbling sound was growing louder out in the alley behind him. St. Claire set down the panties and poked his head out to see what the source of the sound was. A large automated trash removal vehicle was making its way down the alley emptying the bins as it went. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Trash! That is the way out; all trash in New Dallas is taken to New Houston for processing. He could ride on a trash barge. They are fully automated and no one ever pays any attention to the trash.
He pulled his head back just in time as the trash vehicle passed by. St. Claire now had a plan to get out of the city, but the next problem was how to get out of this part of the city and to the trash depot. The solution to that problem presented itself as the young pretty blond-haired shop attendant walked into the back room. Not expecting to see anyone in the back of her shop, she gave a yelp when she saw St. Claire standing there. “I’m sorry Sir, but you are not supposed to be back here. If you would like to come to the front of the shop, I would be happy to help you.” She pointed to the door to the showroom.
Time to put his plan into action. “No, it’s me that is sorry. I should have come in the front door, but this is my first time and I’m a little nervous.” St. Claire said.
This seemed to put her at ease a little bit, as she relaxed her shoulders and smiled. “Oh, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I get a lot of men in here looking to buy for their wives or girlfriends.”
St. Claire tried his best to blush. “No ma’am you don’t understand it is not for anyone, it’s well… for me. I just can’t fight it anymore; I just must know what it is like to dress well… you know… as a woman.” Not the ideal plan he thought, but he hoped it would work.
“Oh.” she said with a long pause. “I see. You know there is nothing wrong with that either. I have quite a few clients that are like you. I would be more than happy to help. Are you interested in just lingerie or would you like the whole package?”
“The whole package, please?”
“Okay then, if you have the money I can turn you into any kind of woman you want. It is not something that I normally do, however, my bots can turn out any design that I program into them.” She said.
St. Claire took out his wallet and handed her his emergency card. This one was a prepaid with no way to trace it to him. He kept it around for things just like this. As a cop, you never know when you need to make an untraceable transaction. “This should cover it.” he said, as she took the card.
* * *
Thorne was in his office looking out the window at the traffic below him when the door opened and Marcus entered. Thorne stood with hands behind his back, as was his habit. “Marcus.”
Marcus stood a rigid attention. “Sir.”
“You have never failed me before, yet another failure, what does this make three times now?” Thorne said without moving.
“Sir, this man that is helping the target seems to be extremely resourceful, or he is the luckiest person alive.”
Thorne spun on his heels to face Marcus. The flame of anger was burning hot in his eyes. “Lucky! There is no such thing as luck. You find and kill them all or next time I see you you will be terminated. Do you understand me?”
Marcus looked deep into his eyes and with an ice-cold tone he said. “Yes, Sir.”
* * *
Less than an hour later St. Claire was no more. In his place stood a tall thin plain looking woman. A long curly black wig covered his gray hair and it fit really well, as did the bra with the fake breasts. The young saleswoman had done a remarkably good job transforming St. Claire into a woman. She left no detail unchanged. She even tinted his eyes to a warm brown to match the hair instead of deep blue that would have looked out of place. He stood in the shop looking at the woman in a mirror that was staring back at him. He was dressed in tight-fitting black leather pants that had false hips and buttocks that really made him look like a woman, and not just a man in dressed in woman’s pants. On top, he wore a cream-colored silk blouse covered by an open front and a black leather jacket with red trim. He also wore matching black leather knee high boots with spiked heels. “Do you like?” She asked.<
br />
Looking at the woman he had become he shrugged. “Well, I’m not going to win any modeling contracts, but yes, you have done an outstanding job.”
She giggled at his remark. “I think you look adorable, but there is one last thing.”
“The mustache has to go, doesn’t it?”
She pursed her lips and nodded her head. “The mustache has to go, if you want a believable look.”
She handed him a laser razor. He took it from her and in a few seconds, his upper lip saw the light of day for the first time in thirty years. She took the razor from him, and applied some lipstick. “There, now you are perfect.”
He had to admit he made a much more believable woman that he ever thought he would make, not that he ever really thought about dressing as a woman before. He also had to admit, but only to himself, that he rather liked wearing the lacy underwear. “Thank you dear, but I have to be off now.” St. Claire said.
He paid the bill, and that too, was not as bad he thought it would be. Satisfied with his disguise he opened the door to leave and came face to face with a young patrol officer. He recognized his face, Hendrix was his name. St. Claire had been his field-training officer and now he was staring him in the face. His heart jumped into his throat and for the first time, he felt panic rising in him.
Hendrix nodded his head at St. Claire. “Ma’am.”
St. Claire just smiled and walked past him, and out onto the street. A wave of relief passed over him. If Hendrix did not recognize him, no one would. He would have to remember to come back here and spend more money. After all, she just saved his life.
He looked both ways and could see police checking in every shop in the street. He put his head up and walked down the street. At first, he had a little trouble walking in the high heel boots but the auto stabilizers kicked in and helped him keep his ankles straight as he walked.