by Eden Crowne
“No, sir!”
“That's right, Junior. You were told to provide backup for the Alpha and Bravo regulars and the Senior teams. That's all. You could have gotten your comrade killed. In fact, it's a wonder you are both alive.”
He was right. She regretted ever going through that stupid door. She stood at attention while he listed all the mistakes she'd made. Not really hearing him, everything that had happened in the blood storage room playing on an infinite loop since the day before.
Over and over again.
The executive falling dead, his cigarette still smoking. In the room behind, thousands of pints of blood and a warning from the man in armor to say nothing. He could have killed her just as easily as he did the man in the suit. He didn't, and that was why she was keeping silent just as her mom suggested. At sixteen, she knew she was in over her head. Way over.
Instead of embarking on part two of chewing her out, he asked, “Everything all right with you and Antonelli?”
The question surprised her. Why wouldn't everything be all right?
“Of course, he's my best friend.”
“He is, isn't he.” With that, he walked over to join the major.
Daphne switched the karaoke machine back on, resettled her wig and picked up from the last hip thrust without missing a beat. Sara Anne called out dibs on the wig and the next song.
Rickey rolled back and she looked at him wondering if he wanted to continue their conversation. He shook his head as if anticipating her. He had Chase in tow, limping with the help of a crutch, his left wrist in a plaster cast.
The twins, Raj, Sara Anne, and Sky crowded around their friend. Daphne just kept singing. Chase waved them back, insisting he was fine.
Switching to the chair's electric foot pedal, Rickey rolled up to Sky, both arms in front of him, chanting. “Presents, presents, presents.”
Sky held the bulky gift up over her head. “No, it's not time for presents.”
“It's always time for presents!” he insisted.
Mary and Melissa joined in. “Presents, presents!”
Sara Anne started chanting as well.
Since his girlfriend Michelle had yet to arrive, Raj had eyes only for his plate of food.
At that point, Hugo St. James walked onto the patio carrying two large cloth bags. He smiled brilliantly at the crowd. “Am I late?”
Rickey rolled into her shins. “Go! Greet! He's here to see you, not me.”
“Rickey!”
He rammed her harder. “Go.”
Sky walked over and Hugo smiled broadly.
“This bag,” he held up the one in his right hand, “is for Rickey. The other is for his mother.”
“Come on.” She waved him to follow. “I'll introduce you to his parents, then you can give Rickey his present. Sara Anne, guard this for me from Rickey.” She stuffed the gift awkwardly into the girl's arms, adding, “You can whack Daphne with it if she refuses to give up the microphone.”
Sara Anne smiled wickedly.
“So, Viscount Junior, what did you get him?” she asked as Hugo trailed slightly behind.
He stopped and pulled her around to face him. “Did you just call me Viscount Junior? Honestly?”
“What, you don't think it suits you?”
He grinned widely. “You're cheeky, as we say at home. I thought you were all shy and quiet, not making eye contact there at the hospital. Obviously that was just camouflage. A trick to lure in the unwary and then snap!”
Sky felt the flush creeping back up her cheeks. “Actually, when I'm in uniform around civilians, I feel kind of weird. Like I'm playacting. When I'm in more relaxed surroundings, I'm a...”
“Smart ass?” he interjected.
She laughed. “I think you might be a little of that yourself. So, what did you get the Rickster?”
“It's a surprise.”
Sky tried to reach for the bag. He held it high, just out of reach. Hugo was a tall boy and Sky not a very tall girl. “Fine. Be that way. I'll see soon enough.”
The yard was draped with white fairy lights, just now beginning to shine as the evening closed in. They had a nice back yard. Big lawn and large covered patio, fruit trees by the fence. Lots of people grew strawberries, cherries, apples, oranges and apricots for themselves or to sell at farmer's markets. Vegetables that could be planted and harvested on giant corporate farms by machines like potatoes, lettuce, cabbage, carrots and onions, were plentiful. Fruit, though, mostly had to be picked by hand and willing hands were still in short supply.
The Antonelli family took down the fence between theirs and the house next door and turned that yard into a vegetable garden. Victory Gardens everyone called them. The house had been abandoned for years so they applied and got a Land Rights license. The house and yard were now legally theirs as long as they paid the property taxes.
The Land Rights Act granted people the right to move into an abandoned property in designated areas provided they improved it. This was the government's way to bring people together and revitalize neighborhoods. Apartment buildings were too costly to maintain. Now, anyone could have a house.
“This is nice.” Hugo looked around curiously. “I haven't been invited to many people's homes since we moved here.”
“Really? But,” Sky broke off as she found Rickey's parents. Introductions were made and reciprocal exclamations of pleasure exchanged over baby gifts (Mrs. Antonelli) and the excellence of the decorations and perfection of the barbecue fire (Hugo). Good impressions were made all around.
They worked their way back to Rickey, who was impatiently rolling his chair back and forth, waiting for them to return before opening gifts.
“I was going to say,” Sky continued. “That Andrea and Thomas and the rest of the goose-stepping Hitler Youth from the senior class must invite you to stuff all the time.”
“Out. Not to their homes. I am a shiny new toy with a title to show off. A rare commodity in these times. That is very different from being asked to a Britney Spears birthday party with no ulterior motive but kindness.”
“Glad you recognize the difference British boy.”
“You know you can just call me Hugo.”
“What's the fun in that?” Sky's tone was light and flippant. Inside, her stomach was turning upside down. She liked Hugo, liked him in a way she hadn't really felt about a boy before. Not counting celebrity crushes.
He handed the carry bag to Rickey, who looked at it skeptically. “Why is it inside out?”
“Take the gift out and turn the bag right-side in. It's part of your present as well.” He winked at Sky.
Doing as Hugo said, Rickey shouted in glee. The carry bag had the cover from Britney Spears 'Circus' album with the signature red and white ray pattern behind her in full color over both sides.
“No effing way! This is so cool. Can I open the other one?” He held up a little flat wrapped parcel that must be a CD.
Hugo nodded.
Inside that wrapping, Hugo explained, was a European edition of the Circus album with bonus tracks.
Watching the happiness on Rickey's face, she couldn't help standing up on tiptoe to Hugo and whispering, “Thank you. This is so great.” As she did, she caught the faintest trace of that elusive beguiling scent from the other day. He certainly didn't smell like blood now.
“You love him very much, don't you?”
“Like my brother. Or sister. Whichever he prefers.”
Without any warning, Hugo leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Not a messy kiss, just light and friendly, as though they'd known each other forever and this was perfectly natural. Her eyes flew up to his.
“May I say, without being rude, Sky, that you smell lovely.”
“Do I?”
“Indeed. Hmm,” he inhaled deeply. “Like lavender under the warm Provence summer sun, just before the harvest. Is that your favorite perfume?”
“I'm not wearing any.”
'You know, you were supposed to contact me about the details of the party.�
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Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh crap. That's right.” She sighed. “Bad week. I mean, like, awful. Completely slipped my mind. How did you find out the date and time and everything?”
“Everyone's number and address is in the school directory. I called the Mathews twins and asked.”
“How very responsible of you.”
He nodded with fake solemnity. “I am made of responsibility. In fact, I attended the Responsibility Academy in London.”
“No you didn't.” She said, making a face back at him. “There's no such thing.”
“How do you know? Perhaps all titled aristocrats must attend such academies. The Royal Ascot Responsibility Academy.”
“You are so full of...”
“Sky!” Rickey was hugging the oversized pillow. “Mrs. Eloise, I love it!”
Aunt Eloise blew kisses. She was standing with a group of women clustered around Mrs. Antonelli. She had an oversized margarita glass in one hand and several little pastel parasols stuck in her hair.
“It's super, right?” Sky beamed, feeling very pleased with herself.
“Very super.”
Still clutching the pillow, Rickey moved on to the next gift.
Hugo looked pointedly around Sky and down at her feet.“Where's your dog? I thought I saw some other dogs here. Didn't you bring him?”
She looked as well. Ghostly Alex was nowhere in sight. The wiener dog had followed them here and was trotting in circles around the barbecue. Sky was never sure what spirits saw of their world. Sausage, perhaps, crossed all ethereal barriers. At least for dogs.
“Sky?”
“Look over there.” She pointed towards the barbecue. “Can you see the dog by Rickey's dad?”
Hugo dutifully turned and looked. “I see a fat brown one that looks very much like the sausages Mr. Antonelli is browning. Is that the dog you mean?”
So it was true. He saw ghost dogs. “No, I didn't bring Alex. At least not at the moment. That's his name, Alex. My dog. Ex-dog. Hugo, I need to tell you something. My dog is dead. So is the little wiener dog over there. What you see are their ghosts. Alex follows me around. Not all the time. Only when things are tense or lonely. Then he shows up. It's strange that you saw him. The only other person I know who can channel animal ghosts is my aunt.”
Even in the fading daylight, she saw him lose all color in his cheeks. His eyes went very wide. Taking her hand, he pulled her with him to a less crowded part of the patio near the speakers just like Rickey had done. He placed his mouth near her ear so she could hear him speak. Again, just like Rickey.
'What is up with these boys today?' she thought. Maybe it was all some elaborate practical joke.
“I thought he was alive. He looked so real. That's not the sort of mistake I should be making.”
“Why? Who cares if you see ghosts? I do. Just animals, like I said. My Aunt is a pet psychic, so I'm sort of okay with the spiritual realm intruding into ours.”
“Your aunt is ever so much more than that.”
That was a strange thing to say. “What do you mean? More than a psychic?”
He gave an impatient sigh. “God, me and my mouth. Look. My parents don't approve of ghostly mumbo-jumbo as they call it. All play acting and pretense.”
“You know that's not true.”
“Of course. However, my father is Viscount Saint James and a world renowned geneticist. He does not deal in spiritual speculation.”
“And your mom? What about her?”
He laughed in a way that was the opposite of amused. “Even worse. She's not really part of our lives right now. I do know if you can't see it, hunt it, or shoot it, it doesn't exist for her.”
“Wow. Must be tough. Do you see human ghosts as well? Or just animals?”
“Pets. Not all animals. And only rarely. No human phantoms so far. Thank God.”
He said the last words with real feeling and Sky nodded, “Right? I feel the same way. People ghosts are not something I feel ready to deal with.”
“If they even exist.”
She cocked her head and looked at him. “I am wearing my doubting face, Honorable Mr. Saint James or whatever your title is. You have no trouble believing that a cat or a dog can manifest. People are somehow different?”
“I don't know. Maybe. Hopefully. I am more of the opinion that what I see as dogs or cats are only residual energy signatures on a spectrum that somehow I can visualize. My brain takes the energy and in that rationalizing aspect brains do so very well, turns it into something recognizable. Like a dog or a cat or a raccoon.”
“A raccoon?”
He waved one hand in front of his eyes as though to wipe the image away. “It happened once. I don't wish to speak about it.”
“I bet not!” She laughed.
He looked insulted. “I assure you, it was not funny.”
“I'm sure you were traumatized.”
Daphne trotted over and tugged on Sky's sleeve.
“Come on. A bunch of us are going to do stuff from her debut album. Grab some things from the costume box. Oh, and bring the Prince.”
“I'm not a Prince,” Hugo said stiffly.
Daphne rolled her eyes. “Close enough. Come on!”
Chapter 10
Blood Work
Since she didn't have to go to Tactical this week, it gave Sky time to work on a project she was already way behind on for biology. The subject she and Caroline Alexander had been randomly assigned (and partnered) was the introduction of non-native species from a similar genus to an existing ecosystem. They'd decided to focus on the African antelope introduced locally after the plagues.
Specifically, the Impala and Thompson Gazelles roaming the brown hills of the San Joaquin Valley and probably confusing the hell out of the local mule-eared deer. Everyone knew they were from the old San Francisco Zoo. When everything was going to hell during the worst of the plague, the surviving zookeepers freed all the herbivores and anything else that didn't pose a direct threat to humans. Even though at that point, humans looked to be on the way out, they decided to believe people would pull through. They put down the lions and other big cats as well as the bears. For which survivors like Sky were now profoundly grateful.
The result made for an interesting mix of fauna in the San Francisco Bay Area. A troop of howler monkeys now called Golden Gate Park home along with some of their smaller cousins and an assortment of parrots and cockatoos. No baboons or chimpanzees. They were considered too aggressive. The gorillas died out after a few years of freedom. Which was sad.
The antelope, Barbary sheep, zebras, wildebeest and American buffalo also slowly wandered towards the grasslands and hills farther south, drawn by some sort of migration instinct.
Sky's job was to go out and get pictures of the antelope in the nearby hills interacting with the local deer for the visual part of their project. Caroline declared it was impossible for her to tramp around the dry grass because of her allergies. As far as Sky could tell, Caroline was mostly allergic to anything that involved exertion.
The girl was in a different squad from Sky. There were four separate squads in her year at Redwood. She knew Caroline was exempt from Tactical HK's because stress brought on her asthma. Instead, she stayed at base learning the complex supply chain logistics for large and small Home Guard bases. Just as vital as going out and shooting things if you look at the big picture.
For today's photo safari, she borrowed the car from Eloise since her aunt didn't have to go to the Power Plant today. School got out at two, which meant there were still at least four hours of good shooting light left. A hiking trail around the outskirts of the University campus that wound through the grasslands and black oaks should bring her within camera range. She'd seen the impala, some zebras and even an eland or two near that area before. They used to bring Alex on this trail every weekend. He loved to run ahead of them, scouting the way.
“Hello.”
Sky jumped. Her mind had been on those days when Alex was more
than a ghostly figment of her imagination. She didn't even notice Hugo walk over.
“Don't sneak up on people!”
He made his fingers into claws. “I cannot help myself. I am silent and stealthy as a big cat in the jungle.”
She pulled her brown fleece-lined hoodie out of the locker and tied it around her waist. The trail could get chilly in the late afternoon. She came to school dressed for the outing in a vintage long-sleeved gray Hollister shirt, jeans, her sturdy walking boots with two pairs of socks, and a muffler thrown in her backpack for good measure. Sky did not like to be cold.
“Is that what they taught you at the Responsibility Academy?” she asked.
He looked at her blankly for a moment before his face broke into a grin.“Right. The Responsibility Academy for Royals.”
“No,” she corrected him shaking her finger. “The Royal Ascot Responsibility Academy. It's your alma mater. Keep it straight.”
“Of course, of course. And yes. Sneaking silently was a required subject.”
“How does sneaking make you responsible?”
He rolled his eyes to the side as though thinking. “Let's see. Sneaking is invaluable.... in case you have to avoid someone in your social circle behaving badly. Yes, that's it. That way they won't know you've seen them and no one need be embarrassed. We British hate to be embarrassed.”
“Invaluable skill, I'm sure.”
“'Tis. We are all about not embarrassing our peers. It goes without saying; however, the lower classes are fair game. So. Miss Christensen. Why aren't you at Tactical? I saw the van drive away with Rickey and the others.”
“I got in trouble with my Squad Leader. Mandatory dressing down. Out all week as punishment.”
His phone buzzed and he shifted his book bag to pull it out of his back pocket. He was wearing the same jeans she'd seen him in at the hospital minus the blood stains, a gray T-shirt and navy hoodie with “Royal Navy' in faded letters across the front. They were good jeans, not too tight, not too baggy and he filled them out very nicely.
“Doesn't sound like punishment to me.” His eyes flicked rapidly over the screen, scrolling through and tapping a reply. “Seems like you and your friends never have a minute of downtime.”
