Thick Black Theory: A Symbiont Wars Book (Symbiont Wars Universe)

by Chogan Swan

  Chapter 9 — Bad guy stuff to do

  Driving the Westy, even at the sedate speed of thirty-five miles per hour, seemed a bit like flying to Kaitlin. She’d noticed the feeling before, but this time she was the one guiding the plane. The windscreen was huge and, with the front wheels directly below her feet, she was gliding over the highway as if she was on a magic carpet. It was a shame this tank of fuel would most likely be her only chance to do this.

  To herself, she commended Bernard on his calm. In spite of it being Kaitlin’s first time driving, he seemed unconcerned by her clumsy beginner’s handling. Of course, he’d had little choice after Kaitlin told him that, in spite of knowing the rules of gun handling, she’d never actually fired one. Someone had to be ready to shoot to defend them, and his time in the military thirty years ago meant he was the one qualified.

  Two of the other groups of people at the state park had tried to wave them down when they realized Kaitlin and the Handys had working transportation. One man had even tried standing in the road to block it. Kaitlin wasn’t sure if he’d been hurt during his dive for the ditch, but he’d at least managed to get clear of the van when she’d refused to stop or swerve.

  Bernice had made a strangled squeak at the man’s brush with eternity, but didn’t say anything or retreat further to the back to hide her eyes afterward.

  “He moves pretty quick for someone his size,” was all Bernard had to say.

  Kaitlin was just glad she wouldn’t be cleaning blood off the front bumper or seeing another death in her dreams tonight.

  Abandoned cars lined the roadway. Some looked as though their owners had glided to a stop off the asphalt, but others looked as though they’d been cleared out of the way.

  That meant other vehicles were still running. They hadn’t needed to get out and clear the way at all. But, she knew it would be different when they reached a major city.

  With their early start, they made it halfway to Dallas before the heat rose to the point where they decided to turn on the air conditioning.

  As they came around a turn in the road, the highway narrowed and the abandoned cars were thicker. Something felt wrong to Kaitlin, and she braked hard.

  “What’s the matter, Kaitlin?” Bernard said.

  Kaitlin shook her head. “Not sure, but I think somebody is trying to set a trap here.” She reached for the gearshift knob. A movement reflected in her driver’s side mirror caught her eye as she shifted. A subcompact car was rolling into place behind the Westy.

  Kaitlin slammed the gearshift into park. “We’re blocked behind, Bernard. It’s an ambush.”

  “Bernice, hide in the back,” Bernard hissed.

  Kaitlin snatched the three-foot-long dogwood branch she’d picked up at the campground and slipped out her door. Someone yelled on the other side of the Westy. “Drop the peashooter, grampa or you all die fast.”

  Kaitlin’s stomach lurched when she saw the faces of four men leering over the barrels of assorted shotguns and assault rifles from the cover of the cars surrounding them. They had overwhelming firepower; there was no winning a fight here and now, but...

  Kaitlin dropped to the cover of the same cars the men were using for protection, and pulled Blondie from her back pocket, holding her unopened in her fist as she slithered down the row of cars. If she could get away, she might be able to sneak back and help Bernard and Bernice, but if they caught her too...

  “Don’t shoot the driver; it’s a girl,” a man’s voice shouted.

  Kaitlin would have shuddered if she hadn’t been crawling as fast as she could. That wasn’t chivalry talking. The sound of lust was all too familiar.

  “She’s trying to crawl off. Catch her!”

  “There she goes.”

  Footsteps crunched behind her in the gravel of the shoulder of the road, and she spun onto her back in a defensive position. A thin guy in a ratty tee-shirt took another step and launched himself at her. Instead of kicking him away, Kaitlin caught him with her legs, locking him tight, and lunged to slip her hands past his arms to hold his head close to hers. It felt as though Blondie deployed by herself as Kaitlin fastened her teeth in the greasy ear in front of her and slammed the blade inward, aiming for the liver. He screamed, high and frantic. As she pulled the blade out to stab again, rough hands grabbed her right wrist while others pried at her ankles and left arm. Her assailant screamed again as his companions hauled him up and the part of his ear still between her teeth ripped away. Kaitlin spat the lobe of his ear at him then twisted her wrist, trying to use the blade to free herself from the four grungy men pinning her feet and arms.

  “God damn! Get the knife away from her, Ricky. She’s gonna cut me,” yelled the man holding her right wrist. A shadow moved over her head, and Blondie flew out of her hand and skittered across the road when the dogwood stick she’d left behind connected with her blade.

  Kaitlin went limp, resting, waiting for an opportunity. The high, keening screams of the one she’d stabbed settled into a hoarse, rhythmic, almost musical threne.

  The man using her dogwood club strolled into her field of view. Wavy blonde hair escaped artfully from below his black cowboy hat and brushed his muscular neck. A western-style holster and gun hugged his lean hips. His plaid western shirtsleeves rolled above his elbows showed off muscular forearms while movie-star features framed eyes of clearest blue.

  Kaitlin fought not to shudder at the ugliness within them.

  “Drag his ass into the store so I can hear myself think,” he said, jerking his head at the bleeding, wailing one. “And put the two old farts with the others.”

  He snapped his fingers, pointing at Blondie where she lay in the gravel ten meters away. One of his men—minions rather—hustled over to fetch the knife and brought it to him.

  “Wipe it off for me, would you?” he said, not taking his eyes off Kaitlin.

  The minion took a bandana from his pocket and wiped down the handle and blade, swearing when he sliced through his bandana into his hand with the razor sharp edge.

  That’s my girl.

  The demon inside the blue eyes took his gaze off Kaitlin for a moment and examined Blondie. He smiled and tested her edge, shaving a broad swatch of hair from his forearm. He smiled wider and raised his eyes to Kaitlin’s again. “You’ve cost me a man, little hellcat, but I’m going to give you a chance to make up for that. After all, he wasn’t really a very useful member of my organization. His stupidity was going to kill him sooner or later.”

  Without looking at the men holding Katlin, he motioned for them to stand her up, and they dragged her to her feet. “Hang onto her feet, boys,” he said in a gentle voice. “I don’t fancy having the family jewels crushed. Haven’t you figured out she’s dangerous, or do you just have a death wish like poor Willie?”

  “Sorry, Ricky,” said the man who’d let go of her right foot as he knelt and grabbed both of her legs. He chewed his scrubby beard and looked at Ricky with something almost like adoration.

  Ricky stepped closer to Kaitlin and touched Blondie to her hair. He flicked his wrist, and a lock of red curls drifted to the ground. “If you play your cards right, I’m going to let you take his place. Well, a better place, really, as he was kind of the low man on the totem pole if you take my meaning.”

  Ricky lifted her chin and surveyed her features. “But you’ll have to earn that place... on my totem pole,” he said with a leer while sliding Blondie’s blade down the front of her shirt, popping buttons off one-by-one. “The first thing you’ll have to do is ask for a place with me.”

  He looked up from her chest. “No? Not yet?”

  Ricky slid Blondie inside the front of her shirt and let the blade part the material as he ran the cutting tip to the end of her sleeve then repeated the motion on the other side and—with a lazy sweep—removed her shirt and tossed it aside.

  It’s okay, girl. I know you couldn’t help it.

  “After that...,” he slid Blondie—away from the edge—across Kaitlin’s sk
in and under her bra strap. The warm metal slid across her chest like a breath of wind. He watched her face as he lifted the blade to pull on the elastic then turned the edge into the strap. It parted immediately with a snap against her flesh.

  Kaitlin returned his gaze without expression then looked straight ahead, dismissing him from consideration. She had run scenarios like this in her mind many times to prepare herself in case the worst happened.

  I will not let anyone coerce me into betraying the person I choose to be.

  He slid the blade inside the cloth belt at her waist and cut it free. The waistband of her shorts, always loose, dropped to the middle of her hips. Ricky smiled and pushed it lower until her cargo shorts dropped to her ankles.

  “After that... you will give yourself to me,” he said as he sliced through the sides of her underwear, letting them flutter down to land atop her shorts. “You will do that in front of everyone, over and over for as many days as it takes to convince me you like it. Then you will be one of us... when you are mine.”

  He grinned in her face. “I’d let you start right now, but I’m busy. Bad guy stuff to do.”

  The demon eyes turned from her, and he walked away. “Put her with the others, front row seat for the show.”

  Chapter 10 — KOS

  Kaitlin had never made a Kill-On-Sight list before. Until yesterday, she’d never needed to kill anyone. Once in Atlanta, she’d had to cut a pimp who’d tried to add her to his human trafficking empire, but she was sure he’d survived—though he’d be much less likely to seduce anyone considering the facial scar.

  Right now, Ricky was the only one on it for certain, but she was considering candidates. One of Ricky’s minions, the one who’d held her legs while she’d been stripped, dumped her in a garden cart and hauled her off like livestock—with her hands pinned behind her with heavy-duty zip ties and her feet bound with rope. The minion dumped her on the asphalt on the edge of a group of other hapless captives, leaving her lying on her side. They were on a convenience store parking lot at the end of the gauntlet of abandoned cars.

  Kaitlin considered for a few moments, with her face resting on the gritty pavement, whether it was worthwhile to struggle to a seated position. With a sigh, she realized she’d need to gather information, so she rolled onto her back and sat up. A few minutes later, the same minion came by to take off her boots, unlacing them and throwing them in the garden cart with everyone else’s’ clothes and shoes. She supposed Ricky was afraid they might all hop away like a herd of rabbits. For a moment, she wished she’d tried it then concluded it would be better to wait for an opportunity that had a chance of working.

  “Silflay hraka u embleer ra,” she muttered, exhausting the only Rabbit she could remember from Watership Down.

  Certainly apropos, but not productive, Kaitlin.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  The sun grew higher and hotter. At least they hadn’t gagged her, like so many of the others here. Maybe they’d never thought about it since she hadn’t said a word to anyone. Guards changed and the asphalt turned into a solar oven. Kaitlin had turned away from the sun, trying to keep her skin from blistering—as a redhead, it didn’t take much.

  A shadow, of someone in a cowboy hat, appeared above hers. A hissing sound followed by a cooling mist on her back and the smell of cocoanut and banana presaged someone rubbing sunscreen on her body.

  Ricky

  Since it was pointless to fight it, she ignored him as he rubbed the lotion all over her. He took pains not to get the stuff in her eyes, but he took the liberty of feeling up every bit of her then walked away without saying anything.

  I’m a prize cow.

  “I don’t think Janet will like her at all. What do you think Roy?” said one of the guards behind her.

  Another guard snorted. “Janet won’t do a damn thing about Ricky’s new plaything, and you know it.”

  Kaitlin stored the information. So far, she hadn’t seen a Janet.

  Minions were milling around the herd now, laughing as they turned the prisoners to face east and joined their bodies into a human chain with rope and zip ties.

  Ricky walked up to stand in front of his captive audience then leaned back on a silver BMW. “Okay, folks, lunch will be served in a little while. I want all of you to understand I will be taking good care of you, since I stand to gain a good deal when I sell you. But first, you’ll recall I said that I would insist that my property act and speak respectfully to me and my partners.” Ricky grinned, blue eyes dancing. “Well, no sooner than that was out of my mouth than mister-tie-in-the-mouth over there...,” he said, nodding at a half-dressed yuppie type man gagged with his own tie. “... said some very hurtful things about my mother and me. The time has come for an education.”

  Ricky scuffed his boots on the pavement. “Boys, please bring our mouthy acquisition front and center for a lesson and bring his lovely wife....” he pulled a deck of driver’s licenses from his pocket and fanned them out like gaming cards, glancing through them. “... Cleo, who will be the star of our show. Welcome, one and all, to our production of Mergers and Acquisitions.” He bowed like a circus MC and walked away. His minions grabbed the man and pulled him in front of the BMW. His wife, already stripped naked, they tied to the hood of the car. She was about thirty and would have been pretty if her face hadn’t been contorted with horror.

  Kaitlin winced, but forced herself not to look away. The suffering the woman was about to go through demanded a witness in case justice ever came to the world. Kaitlin watched as each minion took a turn at Cleo, memorizing each one’s face and characteristics, adding them to the list:

  Kill-On-Sight.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  As the horror continued, Ricky made occasional appearances to direct operations and personnel at the car trap, rotating his minions then heading back to the road to supervise.

  The woman had stopped screaming long ago, but she still sobbed from time to time as the ordeal became a marathon.

  A distant buzzing sound from the east caught Kaitlin’s notice.

  A motorcycle

  In the corner of her eye, Kaitlin saw one of the guards slump to the ground at the back of the clump of prisoners.

  Hope glimmered in her mind. She put her head down, pretending she was hiding her eyes from what was happening in front of her, but glancing under her arm to see what she could, trying to figure out what was going on.

  Another minion, leaning on a truck’s wheel-well, slid to the ground. All the guards were intent on watching ‘the show’.

  Then, Kaitlin saw the reason they were collapsing: strange, familiar, disturbing and beautiful.

  A dark, hairless, nearly nude, female figure stood in the shadow of the surrounding woods. Her striped body paint, preternatural stillness and the partial cover of an abandoned truck concealed her from a casual glance.

  She’s painted to look like the alien girl in Fight for the Future.

  With the barest movement, the huntress placed a dart in the blowgun she held near her face. When the woman tied to the BMW sobbed again, the blowgun huffed, and another minion from the KOS list lay in the dirt. Three more guards fell in short order. Then, the huntress dashed to the door of the convenience store. She paused to toss something through the opening and cocked her head before ducking within. During the moment she’d paused, Kaitlin had time to register the fully functional, prehensile tail moving in synchronized motion with the huntress’s body like a good CGI sequence... or a real tail. With the tip, she held some sort of stiletto.

  She came back through the door a moment later. Now, cradling the short rifle slung around her chest, she sped through the prisoners and unconscious guards, towards the approaching motorcycle in long graceful bounds.

  Kaitlin gasped. The way the huntress moved wasn’t human, something about her feet or ankles propelled her much faster than a human could run.

  She was an alien. An honest-to-god E.T. who looked like Nighthawk, Kaitlin’s favorite singer... only striped and
with a tail.

  Just go with it, Kaitlin. You may have slipped off the deep end, but you don’t have time to find a good shrink now.

  From where she sat in the mass of prisoners, Kaitlin had a good view of Ricky and his four minions when the motorcycle rounded the last car before the trap and slid to a halt. The rider bailed out, rolling across the pavement. The alien girl, shielded by a blue van, fired four quick shots from the silenced rifle that were followed by four heads splattering red and gray in a trail behind them. Ricky turned toward the sound, bringing his pistol around, but the motorcyclist pulled a gun from her waistband and shot his gun out of his hand. The alien girl, stalked up to Ricky, who was cradling his gun hand next to his chest and swearing. Her tail whipped the stiletto around to stab him in the ass cheek. “I can’t help it. It’s just my nature,” she snarled into his face as he collapsed.

  The motorcyclist sat up and took off her helmet, revealing a short mop of glossy amber hair and a light-chocolate complexion.

  “Nice shot,” the alien girl said to the biker girl.

  “Thanks. You started early, didn’t you?” said the girl with an accusing tone.

  “Yeah, but I saved one for you.”

  The motorcyclist looked over her shoulder. “All clear, Kest,” she called as rapid footsteps approached from that direction.

  The runner, still hidden by the gauntlet, was close and moving fast. In another moment, he came around the corner, breathing hard. He looked familiar too. Light brown hair—sweat-soaked now—over features that announced Native American ancestry.

  “You left me further away than you needed to on purpose then went so fast you didn’t have backup. What kind of teamwork is that?”

  He was pissed.

  “I know, fucked up, right?” said the girl as she glared at the alien Nighthawk girl. “Except I was pretty damned sure I had backup here already and I was right. Besides, I made a keep-you-alive promise.”

  She climbed to her feet and slipped her gun back into her belt. “Aylie, you and Kest go pick up the two sentries and bring them back here,” she said.