Leave The World Behind

by Martha Carr

  I’ve never sewn anything in my life. Never tried to pull a tracking device out of my shoulder, either, but that doesn’t sound nearly as hard.

  The halfling sucked in a sharp breath when she pulled the t-shirt up and over her head, then opened up all the packages and got everything ready. “As ready as I ever will be, I guess.”

  Once she had it all laid out, she climbed onto the right side of the bathroom counter and let her bare feet fall into the sink. She poured a little hydrogen peroxide into the two deep holes and let it do its thing while she pulled on a pair of gloves. She dipped her shoulder to let everything drip back out again and stuck the tweezers into the rubbing alcohol.

  “Here goes nothing. It can’t be as bad as getting shot in the hip.” She brought the tweezers up to her shoulder with her left hand—not her dominant hand—and leaned away from the mirror enough to see what she was doing. Mostly.

  It felt like Sha’gron’s fingers were digging around in there all over again, only this time, the person digging around in Cheyenne’s arm had no idea what she was looking for. She went through two dozen cotton swabs trying to get all the blood out of the way before she finally gave up on the tweezers and tried the surgical scissors instead. Those clattered into the sink fifteen seconds later, and Cheyenne growled at her reflection in the mirror.

  “Not as bad as getting shot in the hip.” She gritted her teeth and waited for the flare of pain to diminish. It didn’t. “I can’t do this by myself.”

  Hissing out a long breath, she climbed down off the counter and got to work, patching herself up instead, pouring in a little more hydrogen peroxide and taping gauze over the two freshly bleeding holes in her shoulder. She stepped back and surveyed what could have been a murder scene in and around her bathroom sink.

  “Maybe I should’ve let mom call that doctor who does house calls. Not that the guy would know what he was looking for, either. And not that I know anyone who—” The image of Mattie Bergmann throwing a fit when her most advanced student came to her with drugstore surgical supplies and a request to dig a tracking device out of her shoulder made Cheyenne burst into laughter. “No more office hours after that, I think. She might be willing to give me an A on every assignment and pass me through her class if I agreed not to see her ever again.”

  Another round of laughter took her, and she doubled over the counter, gripping the edge of it with both hands.

  When she finally stopped, she took two deep breaths and looked into the mirror. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening, her cheeks flushed, but for the most part, she looked fine. “Okay. I’ll figure it out.”

  She left everything where it was on the bathroom counter and stepped out into the tiny living room of her tiny apartment.

  “Okay, then.” The half-drow rubbed her hands together and headed for her desk. “Let’s see what the rest of the dark web’s been up to while I was out taking down Skaxens and goblins and totally blowing my cover.”

  It took her under five minutes to turn on her computer, run the VPN, and log back into the dark web. Then she was back on the Borderlands forum under Third Quarter Projections—the name made her laugh again—to check the new topic she’d posted yesterday. It was a little harder to find, seeing as there were at least a dozen more topics posted after hers, but she didn’t bother reading them. She found hers and clicked on it.

  There were only two comments in the thread, one she’d left herself about offering odd jobs in exchange for information and a second below it. Cheyenne sat back in her computer chair and dropped her hands into her lap. “Seriously?”

  The other comment was from gu@rdi@n104.

  gu@rdi@n104: Bold move, @ShyHand71. Maybe I can help. I’ll be waiting.

  The timestamp was three minutes after she’d opened the topic. “Yeah, you’ve been waiting all damn day, haven’t—”

  A private message popped up in the corner of her screen, and she snorted.

  gu@rdi@n104: Took you long enough. With a new topic like that, I thought you’d be hovering over your laptop, waiting for someone to send you something.

  “He thinks I do any of this on a laptop. Cute.”

  Cheyenne rolled her chair closer to the desk and typed a response.

  ShyHand71: I thought I told you I had a life and stuff.

  gu@rdi@n104: Oh, that’s right. Asking about an orc named Durg doesn’t have anything to do with your life.

  ShyHand71: Very funny. I appreciate the interest and you trying to hold my hand, but I’m not new to forums. Don’t need any special treatment, either. If you have information for me, let’s talk. Otherwise, maybe don’t scare other users away by commenting as an admin on my thread.

  gu@rdi@n104: Ooh. She gets serious. Okay. I have information.

  ShyHand71: Let’s hear it.

  gu@rdi@n104: Sure. After we talk about what you can give me in trade.

  Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “It’s never about helping a magical out, is it? Somebody always needs something out of the deal.” Puffing out a sigh through loose lips, she typed another response.

  ShyHand71: Ground rules: 1-no sexual favors. 2-no crime. 3-I’m not paying you.

  gu@rdi@n104: Funny. Was that supposed to be insulting?

  The halfling smirked. “At least he’s got a sense of humor about it still.”

  ShyHand71: Then what did you have in mind?

  gu@rdi@n104: I need you to find some information for me.

  ShyHand71: You’re on the dark web, dude. You already know about finding things most people can’t. Why do you need me for that?

  gu@rdi@n104: Because I want to know if I’m right about you. And I like making friends with people who know how to think. Most people don’t.

  ShyHand71: You might be flattering yourself, but I’m not buying it. What do you want me to find?

  gu@rdi@n104: Are we making an official agreement now?

  “Jeez, this guy likes to run around in circles.” Cheyenne shook her head and typed.

  ShyHand71: Not yet. I can’t decide if I want to do this until you give me something to go on. Specifically, what you want me to find.

  gu@rdi@n104: Hey, take a breath, huh? Incoming data file headed your way. It’s encrypted, fyi. Take your time and get back to me if this is something you think you can handle.

  ShyHand71: Sure. Is there a deadline for this offer?

  gu@rdi@n104: No. Reply to my comment on your thread when you figure out what you want. Happy hunting.

  “Oh, yeah. Great. Thanks.” Cheyenne waited for the file to come through on the private message, and when it finally did, she snorted. “Favor for a Friend. Nice filename. Looking for people who know how to think, but the guy can’t come up with something creative.”

  Before opening anything from someone she didn’t know—and probably didn’t want to—the halfling powered up the multiple layers of a program she’d built years ago and used once. As it turned out that one time, she hadn’t needed what she’d named “the Bunker.” “Better safe than taken over by some giant Trojan that would rip my VPN and all my firewalls to shreds. Always use protection, right?”

  The Bunker took another two minutes to fully load, and then Cheyenne was ready to take that little Favor for a Friend file and slip it right into her program. It took another minute to open the stupid thing, and when the file finally finished uploading to her program and shed its outer layer, the halfling’s jaw dropped open.

  “No kidding, it’s encrypted. I can’t read any of this.”

  The layers of coded text didn’t make any sense, and they scrolled across the minimized view screen the Bunker provided faster than she could pick out anything she recognized.

  Cheyenne sat back in her computer chair. It rolled away from the desk a little, but she didn’t bother to bring herself back again. “The guy said to take my time. Guess I better start mapping out a plan of attack now. This is gonna take a lot longer than one night.”

  And that was the beginning. Once she figured out how to decrypt the entire
file from gu@rdi@n104, she still had to figure out whether finding what he wanted was actually worth the potential information he’d claimed he had about Durg. But that was a chance she was willing to take.

  “Ember’s awake. She knows what’s going on, and she knows that I’m gonna do whatever I have to do to make sure Durg gets what’s coming to him. Then I can let this one go. Until then, Guardian104, I guess I’m gonna have to play your little game. Trust me, I’ll win.”

  With a sigh, she got up from her chair and headed toward the kitchen.

  “Okay, there’s one pro to being unconscious and chained to a FRoE bed for five days. I still have beer in the—”

  A light flashed in her backpack, which she’d deposited in its usual place on the floor against the kitchen counter. Frowning, Cheyenne squatted in front of the bag and zipped open the front pocket, thinking the light came from one of her phones. The FRoE burner phone didn’t have any missed calls, and she double-checked that the ringer was on and the volume was all the way up. A quick glance at her personal phone showed no new texts, calls, or notifications. “Okay.”

  The light flashed again in her backpack, and not from the front pocket. The drow halfling set both phones aside and unzipped the main pocket. “There better not be something wrong with my laptop.”

  She took that out of her bag too and pulled the laptop out of its sleeve. It was definitely turned off and not in sleep mode.

  Another light flashed at the bottom of her backpack, accompanied by a light buzz this time. Cheyenne swallowed, set her laptop down, and reached into her backpack one more time. The only other things in there were folders for her classes, and all the way at the bottom, the copper puzzle box she’d taken off her mom’s desk before calling it a night and heading home.

  “That’s not possible.”

  The box felt a little warmer than the last time she’d held it, before trying to explain to her mom what Mattie had told her about the drow artifact and what it meant to Cheyenne. Before Bianca Summerlin had shot her daughter down in the blink of an eye. Before Sir had interrupted the whole thing by calling the goddamn private landline.

  Cheyenne sat on the floor and leaned back against the half-wall that served as part of her kitchen counter. The drow runes etched all over the copper box looked different somehow.

  In twenty-one years, I haven’t gotten a single piece of this stupid thing to budge.

  She frowned, turning the box over and trying to pin down what had changed. A bright flash of gold light flared from the etched runes on all six sides, and the puzzle box vibrated in her hands with sudden, intense heat.

  Cheyenne reacted the way any normal person would—she tossed the puzzle box out of her hand with a yelp of surprise and pain. The box spun through the air and bounced once on the old, stained carpet of her apartment before the pieces sectioned off like a Rubik’s Cube and started to spin in every direction on their own. The golden light from the etched runes glowed brighter until Cheyenne had to squint against the glare.

  Two seconds later, the box stopped spinning, and the light disappeared.

  The drow halfling released a heavy breath and stared, unblinking, at the drow artifact she now knew her father had left behind for her.

  “What the hell was that?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Corian flipped on the desk lamp, which gave off enough light to cast a dim glow over the desk and the bare metal folding chair. Pressing the cell phone to his ear, he counted to four rings until the line picked up.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Can you hear me okay? Good. Yeah, I reached out, and I think I got a bite. No, she’s skeptical enough as it is. I’ll give her however long she needs to get back to me, then we’ll move forward. Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’ll crack it. And she’ll have no problem finding the trail of breadcrumbs I left behind. I’m sure. I’ve been watching her for twenty-one years, Zeldar. She’s good. Trust me. We’re close. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll wait.”

  With a sigh, Corian leaned back in the metal chair and glanced one more time at the new topic posting on the Borderlands forum. I’m Looking for Durg. She went all out with that one. He chuckled and drummed his fingers on the tiny wooden tabletop mounted on metal legs.

  “Yeah, I’m still here. Hey, can you get a message to the Cu’ón for me? Dammit, Zeldar. It’s not like you have to do this more than once a year. Right. Yeah, I know there’s a process. Will you…hey! Hey, shut up and listen to the message, will ya? I swear you’re starting to sound like one of them. I know it’s your cover, I know. Everyone has a life. Will you hear me out? Okay. Tell him I made the first move, huh? Tell him she’s starting to dig, and she’ll find him soon. Yeah, that’s it. Hey, I don’t care how you get it to him, just make sure he hears the words. Thank you. Sure, I’ll call you when I have more.”

  The man sitting in the dark room somewhere outside downtown Richmond ended the call and set down the cell phone. “And maybe you’ll learn how to relax.”

  Corian picked up the glass of water on the table beside his laptop and took a long drink. “Okay, ShyHand71. Your move. Better make it a good one.”

  Chuckling, he sat back in the chair again and whipped the stupid baseball cap off his head. It thumped onto the table next to the laptop and he ran a hand through his hair, staring at the VCU Ram embroidered on the front.

  “Soon, you and I are gonna meet in person, kid. We have so much to talk about. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. We both have.”

  Puzzles, secrets and the FRoE. Some things never change, but how Cheyenne handles challenges thrown her way is. It’s time to take the party to the bad guys in REALM OF INFINITE NIGHT.

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  The Story Continues

  The story continues with book three, Realm of Infinite Night, coming soon to Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.

  Assistant Notes - Grace Snoke

  February 22, 2021

  Every so often, I have a great idea(s) that in reality really isn’t that great of an idea. I’m sure someone will tell you otherwise.

  For those of you new to Martha’s books, my name is Grace Snoke and I’m Martha’s virtual/personal assistant. I thought since I knew she had broken her elbow and we had all these books in the Goth Drow series being split apart, re-released, and needing new author notes as well as other books releasing needing author notes, I’d help out and do assistant notes.

  Why?

  A certain author, who will remain nameless, but he knows who he is, told me I should write author notes for all books I release in the future. I figured this was a great way to get started on that mindset.

  I am already regretting it.

  Because, you see, much like him, I wait until the last minute to write these.

  Team Procrastination for the win!

  So, now that that is out of the way, let me tell you a little bit about me.

  I’ve been writing for longer than I remember. I wrote a screenplay for a music teacher back when I was in middle school. It was performed at a local playhouse with us students and it was a blast. At least, looking back on those days, it was a blast.

  High school introduced me to the old school roleplaying chatrooms online. You know, when the internet was just really starting, and you could write and roleplay with people online. It was cool. I still do this from time to time today and have made some long-time friends through this past time.

  But writing didn’t end there. I went to school for Broadcast Journalism, realized it was really the wrong field a bit too late, but learned a lot from it and my double minor in English. I ended up diving into video game journalism for many years and then corporate journalism and web design for a good 12-15 years. I got laid off from that job just before Christmas
in 2018.

  At that time, I had known a layoff was likely coming or a reduction in salary. I was already looking into other ways to supplement income and due to some volunteer work I had done for the 20Booksto50k group, Craig mentioned to Martha I might be a good option for virtual assistant for her. Unfortunately, at the time she contacted me, she was looking for a full-time assistant and I couldn’t take that on with my job. But that all changed and a couple weeks later I was laid off. I reached back out to her to see if the spot was still open. It was and two+ years later, here we are.

  I couldn’t have made a better decision. It’s been wonderful working with her, and I look forward to continuing to work with her in the future.

  What else? I have a 21-year-old son who takes after me in some respects (we’re both gamers), but not in others (he thinks writing is stupid and I won’t make money from it-though he is learning that’s not true). And I have two cats. Then I have a whole series of children’s books and a poetry book out and am working on a few urban fantasy and paranormal romance series set in the same world.

  Speaking of which, I should probably get back to all of that. TTFN.

  **Grace keeps the wheels on the bus and makes it possible for me to focus on throwing fireballs and opening portals to new worlds. She’s a treasure and a very kind human – possibly magical. May be related to Estelle. I’ll let you know.

  – Martha **

  Dark Is Her Nature

  For Hire: Teachers for special school in Virginia countryside.

  Must be able to handle teenagers with special abilities.

  Cannot be afraid to discipline werewolves, wizards, elves and other assorted hormonal teens.