by Justin Sloan
“Can all this last?” she asked. “I mean, to me it all feels like it isn’t real, you know?”
“You’ve just never been able to relax and enjoy a normal life.” He glanced back at the alley, and then pulled her in a different direction than he’d originally intended, but still away from HQ. “In your mind, it’s too good to be true.”
There was a pause from Valerie before she replied, “With the CEOs still out there… it is.”
He bit his lip. Nothing to say to that, apparently. She followed him around the corner and past Capital Square. They turned down a different road and came out on a street that she knew led to one of the subway entrances they’d hidden, a doorway to Cammie’s old underground hideout.
“Don’t tell me you’re taking me underground.” Valerie was about to crack a joke about having plenty of privacy back in her office, when she saw him glance behind them suspiciously.
A movement, and then she saw her, framed in one of the nearby windows—the teenage girl Valerie had met in battle, the one she had spared. The girl stood right at the edge of the window, just barely enough for them to see her but hopefully not enough for anyone else to catch sight of her. She lifted a hand and gestured with what looked like a four and then drew a “Z” in the air, before ducking away.
“We got trouble,” he admitted to her, his voice low so it wouldn’t carry.
Valerie’s voice came back, calm, allowing her body to relax, and prepare. “What kind of trouble?”
“The kind I’d rather we don’t meet with violence… My people,” his voice equal parts anguish and annoyance.
“Wait, what?” Now, Valerie’s mind was going a hundred miles an hour to figure out the situation.
But he was already pulling her along, and she wasn’t resisting. This time the wave of emotion came from him—pulsing, a mixture of cool with piercing heat. Confident, but worried?
Then she finally pieced it together. “So, they know what happened at Enforcer HQ, when you attacked. That my people were responsible for the deaths of many of yours.”
He led her along a curving road with tall buildings on each side, then motioned to someone in a window watching, then another from the other side.
“Turn around.” He put a hand on her back and they moved into the shadow of a doorway. “Just go back to HQ, I’ll deal with them,” he asked, his focus not on her anymore.
“You don’t think I can handle myself?” She asked, her arms crossing in front of her chest, an eyebrow raised.
His lips pressed together, “I know you can, and that’s what worries me.” He glanced back up the street, to where three men and two women had appeared from a building and were approaching, cautiously. “I don’t want more of my people hurt.”
She nodded down the street, “Then come with me, at least. I don’t want to see you hurt either.”
He shook his head. “As much as they might be out for blood, it won’t be mine. There are still enough loyal to me that I don’t have to worry… I hope.”
The voice was cold, scratchy, “You eating with the devil again, Jackson?” one of the women called out, an older one with a thick, red coat. Even from here, Valerie could see the glimmer of sunshine as the woman spat on the ground.
“Go!” Jackson hissed, then pushed himself forward so that she was out of their line of site. “Allore, this isn’t the time or the place,” she heard him say as he walked towards them.
“You’re walking a thin line here,” the woman, Allore, replied. “Hand her over.”
Valerie thought about staying and confronting this woman, but Jackson had a good point.
If they pulled out weapons and tried to attack, Valerie was likely to hurt them, or worse. That wasn’t her intention or her desire. Well, it mostly wasn’t her desire, so she quickly stepped over the stairwell, back into the narrow gap between apartment buildings, and made her way out of the alley.
She found a fire escape and did a push kick off of the brick wall to reach the first landing, and then pulled herself up before moving quickly up the steps to the top of the building. Soon she was clear, but doubled back to one of the nearby rooftops, where she knelt at the edge and peered over to view the scene stories below her.
If they were hurting Jackson in any way, she’d leap down without a second thought and end them all.
But they were talking and, it seemed, he was winning them over. They were still standing around with arms crossed, but none of them had hands on hidden guns, not that she could tell.
She sighed and turned back, sitting on the edge of the roof and watching the rays of light shooting down through the billowing clouds. It was a beautiful sight, but one she realized she might have to see less and less of.
If she was going to enforce justice and keep this city in check, she was beginning to understand, being out in the open might not be for the best.
It was too divisive.
It was time Valerie returned to the shadows.
CHAPTER TWO
Post-Apocalyptic Attempt at a Dive Bar, Old Manhattan
Sandra was looking through the window, up at the sky and wondering if she’d really just seen Valerie running across a rooftop to then disappear over its side.
No, she had to have imagined it.
Diego moved to the window beside her and gazed out.“What is it?” He shrugged and smiled back at her. “Looking to see shapes in the clouds?” He pointed, “That one looks kind of like a snake, right?”
“Huh?” She glanced back out and saw what he was talking about. Though, if you considered the sunlight at its tip, she could almost see it as something more humorous, and laughed.
Then he saw it too and rolled his eyes. “Let’s stick with snake.”
“Call them whatever you want,” she said. “That one’s pissing sunlight all over us.”
“You know, you’ve gotten weirder lately.” He made his move by sliding a little wooden play piece across the board and smiled. “Usually I like it.”
“Just not when it involves clouds that look like man-parts?”
He laughed. “No, I guess even then, too. Your turn.”
She looked down at the board before them. Diego had brought her here saying it was this great find, a dark bar high up in one of the few tall buildings remaining, where you could play vintage games like this one while sharing a beer. What had he called it? Chest, or something like that. With a shrug, she took a sip of her beer and cringed.
“That bad?” Diego asked.
She smiled, then moved one of the game pieces, still not exactly sure what she was doing.
“You didn’t really listen when I explained how this game works, did you?” he asked.
“Sorry. I don’t know.” She bit her lip, feeling bad. She wanted to give him her full attention, she really did. “It’s Valerie. I’m worried about her. Maybe it’s nothing, but she’s been off with Jackson so much this last week, I feel like I’m losing her.”
“You do realize it’s only been a week though?” Diego took a long swig of his beer, with only a slight shudder. “Not the best stuff in the world,” he said, assessing it. “But considering they don’t even have beer in most of the remaining world? I think I can handle it. And yes, Valerie will be fine.”
“Maybe.”
“Sandra, this is Valerie we’re talking about here. Did you not see her in action? She’s taken down a badass vampire, her brother no less, and Commander Strake. She saved half the vampires in this city from being drained of their blood so that the CEOs could stay youthful and rich, and as far as I’m concerned, she’s a damn Goddess.”
“Is that so?” Sandra frowned.
“Oh, not like that.” He laughed and finished his beer. “Maybe that’s the wrong word. What is it the stories used to talk about? There were those old ones you still hear people mention, about mutants who fought for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. Superheroes, I think they called them? Yeah, that’s Valerie. She’s like a superhero.”
Sandra nodded,
getting what he was saying. Of course, she wished the rest of the city saw it that way. Reports came in often of the word on the street, and it seemed pretty split between half of the city seeing her as a liberator and, maybe, even potential leader, while the other half thought of her as a monster. Ella was out there spreading her rumors about Valerie, along with some of the vampires that had come with Donovan and possibly even some of Strake’s Enforcers that had escaped the recent fights.
She glanced back at the beer, contemplating another sip. Did any of that matter right now, when she was supposed to be sitting here having a great time with Diego? She tried to tell herself no, that it didn’t.
Maybe if she had something other than beer to take the edge off, it’d be a different story.
“You know what I’d love?” she asked, then pointed to the chess board. “Aside from kicking your butt at this game that I totally don’t understand. Wine.” She paused, pursed her lips, “Wine, and cheese, mostly.”
Diego took a moment to see if he could think of any options but settled for saying, “Wine and cheese?”
“Oh, and a good bakery!” Her eyes lit up, but the moment was lost as her stomach rumbled.
“I told you we should’ve gone out to eat with Valerie and Jackson,” he said. “You’re hungry for more than bar nuts. Come on, let’s go get you something good.”
“If it’s a bakery…”
“I haven’t noticed any, but we can see what we can find.”
He motioned to the bartender for the bill, and then chugged the rest of his beer, with a grimace.
She nudged him on his shoulder, “You don’t like it either, admit it.” She laughed. “See? If we had wine, like they have in France, maybe this city wouldn’t be so glum.”
“People in France are happier?” Diego gave her a doubtful look. “They’ve made barley whiskey in Spain, and that hasn’t helped much.”
“Good point.” She frowned, then smiled again. “But imagine how much less happy they’d be without it, right?”
“Touché.”
The memory of a glass of wine with Valerie brought back the sweet taste in her mouth that night when they’d sat on the rooftop. That night when Valerie had kissed her. She found herself blushing, but when Diego asked where her thoughts were, she stood, pushed her shoulders back, and said, “It’s decided. Let’s do it.”
“Sure, great. But… what is it?” He looked at the board again, frowning, before looking up again. “And does this mean I win?”
She laughed and took the little piece that had a crown on top, then placed it on its side. “We both win. You at this silly game, me at life. Because I’m going to get the best bakery in the world going in this city, and I’m going to see to it that we have wine.”
“We have bread,” he said with a shrug. “Valerie told me about a place with these sausages served in bread.”
“The man selling them calls them hotdogs,” Sandra said with a dismissive laugh. “But if you call that bread, you’ve never had real bread. Come on.”
She pulled him up by the hand to lead him out of the bar.
“What, we’re doing this now?” he asked, slapping a few coins on the counter quickly. The heavyset man gave him a nod and blew smoke from a long pipe, leaving them with a sweet cherry scent on their way out.
“You ever found a better time to start something than now?” She threw back over her shoulder.
“Where would we even begin?” he asked, following her up the stairs to the roof, where they’d been able to park the police pod she’d piloted over. The wind was blowing strong up here, clouds passing by now, bringing with them a wall of gray in the distance.
She slid her palm across the door so that it clicked and then slid open, up and out of the way. “I’ll figure it out. I always do, right?” A giggle escaped her as she slid into her seat.
Diego slid in on the other side of the vehicle, “Wow, you’re worked up,”
“Hell yes I am.” She looked at him, and then said, “You’re right though. What’s the rush?”
He looked at her with confusion, but when her hand was at his zipper and her lips pressed against his, she was pretty sure he got her meaning. It was like the excitement was boiling up in her. This wasn’t about defending the city or fighting for their lives, it was about having fun and enjoying themselves. So a little rooftop foreplay wouldn’t hurt in the meantime.
She undid his pants as he popped open her shirt, and then a voice sounded, “Sandra, it’s—oh God, seriously?”
Retracting her hand Sandra spun to see that the display showed Cammie’s face, scrunched up like she’d just eaten a rotten apple.
A quick glance at where Sandra guessed the camera was gave her a pretty good guess as to why Cammie was making that face, so she placed a hand over Diego’s crotch and said, “Might want to zip up.”
“Thank you,” Cammie said, glaring. “Not that I haven’t seen it before, but—”
“Is there a reason you’re calling?” Sandra interrupted, annoyed at the thought that Cammie and Diego had seen each other nude on more than one occasion. She got that it was all part of the way Weres operated—they generally would be naked when transforming, or tear their clothes and be mostly naked when they transformed back to their human forms.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed a little jealousy.
“It’s certainly not to catch you two about to tarnish a police pod’s purity,” Cammie said with a grin. “So… maybe find a hotel next time?”
“Laugh it up, bitch.” Sandra playfully flipped her off. “At least I’m getting some.”
Cammie laughed. “I could walk into any room here at Enforcer HQ and have ten cops, and another ten Weres or vamps tearing their clothes off with the snap of my fingers. Shit.”
“Ladies?” Diego said, finally presentable again, aside from the deep red of his cheeks. “The point?”
“Ah, yes.” Cammie’s expression became serious again. “Valerie just got here and called a meeting. Seems she’s got some big announcement and wants everyone in the room, pronto.”
“Maybe… give us fifteen?” Sandra said, with a hopeful glance Diego’s direction.
“Girl, do what you gotta do,” Cammie said with a scoff. “You know Valerie better than I do, but if it were me, I wouldn’t want to piss her off.”
“Fine, see you ASAP.” Sandra turned off the screen and then frowned at Diego.
“So…?” He looked at her hopeful.
“They don’t actually turn blue, do they?” she asked as she started up the pod.
“Damn, that’s cold. You’re going to turn me down like that and mock me in the same sentence?”
“It’s a genuine question.” She swiped her fingers across the controls so that the pod’s anti-gravity kicked in, and then glanced his way. “And think of it more as prolonging the pleasure. You know I’m good for it, and you know this girl’s going to get hers,” she quickly glanced down at his lap before looking out the front, “too.”
He laughed and adjusted his pants. “I’ll be fine, but if this meeting lasts longer than five minutes, I might fake a seizure to get us out of there.”
“Deal,” she said with a laugh, and then aimed the pod for the tall building half-way across town, with its blue stripe it was rather hard to miss.
For good or bad.
CHAPTER THREE
Enforcer HQ
Wallace entered the barracks floor, as they’d taken to calling the ninth floor of Enforcer HQ, where most of the cops, now Valerie’s soldiers, had been set up with rooms. Some had families and returned home each night, but those who didn’t were asked to stay here in case they were needed for defense.
He walked down the hallway and nodded to the cop on duty, seated behind a desk. The guard was the only one inside wearing his police cap, so you knew he was on duty. Although Valerie had taken to referring to them as her army, it was easier all around to still call them cops, or police officers, since that’s the uniform they all wore. He was
still hopeful she wouldn’t change that—for him, the uniform was a grand tradition, and held certain levels of prestige.
“Any sign of her yet?” Wallace asked, glancing at the cop’s name to remind himself. “Buland?”
Buland just shook his head. “They said you’d be by to ask, and that if you did, to watch my back.”
“And why’s that?” Wallace asked with a frown. He didn’t consider himself harsh, or someone known for losing his temper.
“You never seem to like the answer, and now with your friends in power….”
He put up a hand, “Hey, I just want to make sure that if anyone hears anything about Ella, I’m the first to know.” He folded his arms, very cognizant of the couple of heads that had poked out of doors. After a moment, he said, “So, nothing?”
“Nothing.” Buland glared. “As I said.”
“Right.” He was about to go and leave it at that, but then paused and turned back to the man. “You do realize I’m in charge here?”
“If you have to say it, maybe it’s not as true as you think.”
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Buland raised an eyebrow, glancing behind him at the others who’d exited from their rooms and were standing by with curiosity. “We’ve been hearing things, right guys?”
The others shrugged while one shook his head but avoided Wallace’s gaze.
“Now might be a good time to tell me these things,” Wallace said.
“Come on, Wallace. You were a street cop, right?” Buland stood now, hand on his arc rod, as if Wallace might attack him for what he was saying. He had to admit, a part of him certainly wanted to. “A sergeant, right? And now you’re suddenly in charge here, because she says so?”
He felt his cheeks flushing with anger. Where the hell had this talk been a week ago when everything was falling apart around them, when Strake’s armies were invading, and when they were fighting the vampires and Nosferatu? They were cowering behind his leadership, that’s where.
Wallace looked at the heads sticking out and then back to Buland, “Who’s got a problem with it?” he asked.
