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

by Chogan Swan

  “First, I have to help that woman,” replied the alien girl who turned and went to Cleo. She bent over and kissed Cleo for a long moment—it looked like there was tongue involved. But Cleo, instead of protesting, simply fell asleep, breathing deeply.

  Pieces of the puzzle suddenly snapped together.

  Nighthawk and Windhover’s first album.

  The alien was the girl on the cover and the title of the album had been, Surfing with the Ayleana. The guy who’d just arrived looked just like the guy on the album cover, so he must be Windhover and the chocolate-skinned girl had called him, Kest which was probably short for Kestrel since that was another word for Windhover. The alien girl must be Ayleana, Aylie being the short version, an obvious connection to her alien origins that suggested she’d chosen the name herself.

  Ayleana ripped the knots out of the cords holding the woman to the car. Kaitlin sucked in her breath. Tearing through the ropes like that would take enormous strength, but she’d done it without even pausing.

  “Right,” said the motorcycle girl as she turned to Kest. “I need to talk to the prisoners. Can you help me get the gags off them?”

  Windhover nodded, strode to the line of captives and flipped open a knife. The prisoners in front of him shied away.

  “Relax palefaces, no scalping today,” he muttered and started cutting off their gags.

  Chapter 11 — Drink

  Kaitlin’s head swam with the heat and lack of water. She’d stopped sweating a while ago and knew her ability to focus on her surroundings was suffering. When Kest... Windhover cut her hands and feet free and handed her a water bottle, she drank it a few swallows at a time, not even caring she was naked in front of him and everyone else. It seemed such an arbitrary thing to be a priority now. She noticed another bottle by her leg and remembered chocolate motorcycle girl putting it there.

  This bottle was ginger ale, hot, but wet. Wet was more important. She drank it too and started feeling better. The world was still spinning, but it spun slower now.

  Bernard’s face swam into view. “Kaitlin, are you alright?”

  She nodded, and he handed her another water bottle.

  Kaitlin drank that too then fuzzily realized the motorcycle girl was asking for empty water bottles. Kaitlin picked up her bottles and—seeing most everyone else just staring—began picking up empty water bottles until she couldn’t carry any more. She took them to the tall girl and looked up at her. Close now, she decided on ‘woman’ instead of girl. Kaitlin put the bottles down and straightened.

  The woman, eyes clear and golden, searched Kaitlin’s face. The eyes seemed to reach into her.

  I could feel safe with her.

  “Would you take me with you?” she said, holding back a sob. The horror of the day was hitting her now that she had a moment out of it. “I was next in line for that show. If her husband hadn’t pissed them off, I would have been the one on that car.”

  What about Bernard and Bernice? Who will keep them safe? Kaitlin took a breath as her responsibility called to her.

  The woman shook her head. “I can’t bring you with us, but we can organize the ones who want to go where we will be and tell you how to find it.”

  She nodded to the east. “There is a .45 caliber revolver over there that might still be working. You may have to duct tape the grip. If you get it and bring it to me with the gun belt, I’ll show you how to use it. You’re never naked if you’re carrying a gun.”

  Kaitlin took another deep breath and nodded, turning to where she’d seen Ricky fall. She moved her feet to follow her will..., and soon found herself staring down at him.

  He’s still alive.

  She looked around for something she could use to rectify that, but then remembered something about someone needing the blood first and thought maybe she’d agreed to that. Besides, killing someone while they were in the middle of trying to kill you was different than smashing their heads in while they were unconscious.

  Even Ricky?

  She thought about how he’d undressed her and what he’d planned to put her through. The thoughts made her reach to her side for Blondie before she remembered she was naked..., without her blade.

  Still wobbling, she bent and unfastened the gunbelt so she could get Blondie from his pants pocket.

  This belt is lighter than the other one.

  Then she realized it was because the holster was empty. She looked around until she found the gun and stuffed it in the holster, remembering at the last moment to put the safety on.

  Blondie.

  She went back to where Ricky sprawled on the road and went through his pockets. Car key, wallet, zip ties, Blondie. When the knife touched her hand, the blade almost seemed to open by itself again, locking into place with the familiar sound. Kaitlin checked the blade, saw it still had some of the minion’s blood on it and wiped it on Ricky’s pants. She sat back on her heels and considered. She’d just cleaned her blade. Was she truly in such a hurry to sully it now? Would she ever be able to look at Blondie the same way, knowing that she’d had dipped her blade into the body of a comatose victim? Even an enemy? Even a monster? Even after she’d registered the woman’s promise to execute all those who’d been involved in Ricky’s human slavery project?

  But what if he gets away?

  Kaitlin looked down at his boots and pulled them off so he couldn’t run without cutting up his feet. Then, she took his socks too. Her own feet were burning from the asphalt, so she tugged them on. They were an expensive, copper-blend weave, but they were big and she had to pull them up to mid-calf. After thinking some more, she pulled off his pants, opened Blondie again and shredded the jeans into rags.

  No way was she letting her nether parts touch anything he’d had on his.

  She zip-tied his big toes together... hard.

  It took her a minute of struggle, with her head still fuzzy, but she removed his plaid shirt and put it on like a dress. With Blondie, she made a new hole in his belt and put it around her waist over the shirt. She picked his hat off the ground and put it on. Even with her hair to pad it out, it was big, so she tied her hair in a ponytail with his bandana, finding that now it fit perfectly. She stared at his form, sprawled awkwardly on the road, and frowned.

  Not quite finished.

  She ran Blondie down the outsides of his boxers, the way he’d treated her Victoria’s Secret briefs. Then, she shredded them into rags, stuffed them in his mouth and shoved him with her foot to roll him onto his face. She used the last zip ties to bind his hands behind his back, then picked up the gun belt and put it on. It was set up for a lefty she noticed with satisfaction.

  Before leaving him behind in the sun, she picked up his boots and carried them with her.

  Someone still living might need them.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Kaitlin fought to keep her thoughts focused on the lesson as Amber filled her in on handgun safety and maintenance. Kaitlin had overheard Kest call the coffee-skinned amazon by name and—given her gorgeous golden eyes and tawny hair—Kaitlin didn’t see how anyone could call her anything else. At the moment, she was using the Colt 45 as a demonstration model..

  Kaitlin’s head had continued to clear as she began to sweat again after the water finally reached her cooling system, but what distracted her was Amber.

  The woman was everything Kaitlin wanted to be. Strong, decisive, practical, principled... a warrior. Until now, Kaitlin had never encountered someone she could call a role model.

  What would Amber do?

  Kaitlin almost smiled as she remembered Andy, the store manager at the state park who’d said he would use Kaitlin as his survival compass. She hoped he’d made it home to his family and managed to keep them safe. When Amber explained the ammunition Kaitlin would need to use and the difference between ‘cowboy loads’ and other cartridges, Kaitlin made mental notes, applying memory tools learned from the self-help section of the library.

  Amber finished the handling and firing instructions then turne
d to look over her shoulder at Kest. “Live demonstration round,” she called then turned back to Kaitlin. “You should hold it two-handed like this, with stiff arms and squeeze the handle hard to keep it from getting away from you when you shoot. By ‘getting away’ I mean flying back and knocking your teeth out.” She turned and looked down the highway. “The can on the side of the road there.”

  Kaitlin looked and saw a can about fifty feet away. It looked to her like an impossible distance to hit something so small.

  Amber raised the big revolver in a smooth arc, took a breath and held it. The gun roared, and smoke billowed from the barrel. The can flew off, spinning several yards down the road.

  Amber put the safety on and handed the gun to Kaitlin—using the method Kaitlin had already known from her research.

  “Okay, you’re ready,” Amber said. “Put the sights on the letter O on that wooden sign over there. Just think of it as one of the raping bastards that caught you and fire when ready.”

  Kaitlin fired three times. The gun smoked like a house on fire, but the kick wasn’t too bad. She knew both of those things were because the gun was loaded with the coyboy-action rounds, but she was pleased to see that Ricky’s head now had three holes decorating it.

  “Not a bad grouping,” Amber said. “You ever shoot before?”

  Kaitlin shook her head.

  “Good, that means you won’t have to break bad habits,” Amber said. Then—after giving Kaitlin a paraphrase of gun fight Rule 4—Amber sent her off to get people working on bringing the comatose bad guys over to the truck for exsanguination.

  Kaitlin couldn’t tell if it was the gun she wore or the idea of ushering the slavers off to their final reward that made people jump to help, but the bodies piled up by Amber’s work area like snowdrifts in a blizzard.

  Chapter 12 — New job

  Kaitlin’s work crew had finished their collecting. All the slavers had been dragged to where Amber was ready to stick a needle connected to surgical tubing into Ricky’s neck.

  Kaitlin stood near Amber, waiting to see if she was needed. Emotionally, she had been thinking of the slavers as already dead, draining the blood from them seemed a mere footnote to their departure to a hotter place.

  “No, Amber,” said a voice behind them. Kaitlin turned. Ayleana came through the door of the convenience store, striding toward them. Her red-and-chocolate striped legs moved with that odd spring at the end of each step. Behind her, she dragged the slaver Kaitlin had stabbed when she’d been captured.

  Kaitlin had thought he’d be dead by now, but it looked like she’d killed fewer men than she’d thought—technically.

  It was better that someone would get some benefit from him, she supposed.

  Ayleana stopped to talk to Bernard and Bernice. Kaitlin had only managed to exchange a few words with the Handys since the ambush, and she didn’t want to miss what might be her only chance to talk to someone from another world, but....

  What do you say in a situation like this? Welcome to Earth? I like your music?

  The way things were looking though, the conversation would only be about what needed doing to survive. That was all people were focused on today. Except for those like Ricky and his crew, and she wasn’t ready to call them ‘people’.

  Kaitlin looked at the stacked bodies next to Amber.

  Probably a lesson there.

  Ayleana cut Cleo’s mouthy husband free and sent Bernard and Bernice inside to supervise his behavior.

  She continued to the pile of slavers, slinging Willy into line with the rest, then turned to Kaitlin. “Kaitlin, I’m Ayleana. I saw some work boots in the store that I think will fit you. Get them before someone else does. They are on the top back shelf on the right. Also, would you stay to make sure my patient is not disturbed? I suspect her husband may not listen to Bernard, but I suspect that you and your Peacemaker will get his attention. If you have to shoot him, make sure no one else is in the line of fire.”

  Kaitlin nodded, “I’ll do it, but—”

  “Will you also oversee having these bodies burned? We don’t have time to stay for that. You asked Amber to come with us. Do you still want to follow?”

  Kaitlin nodded, her chin tense with resolve.

  “Then I’ll try to get two friends of mine to pick you up here.”

  Ayleana pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “Amber and Kest, satellite is coming online in thirty seconds. Do you have anything urgent to say to Daniels?”

  “Be careful and remind Drew of our date,” Amber said.

  “Nothing urgent,” Kest said.

  Ayleana’s thumbs danced across the keyboard screen until she hit the send icon.

  They have service?

  After a few moments watching the screen, Ayleana put the phone back in her harness. “Message received and seen,” she said. “He made it then. I hope he and Drew are getting along.”

  She turned to Kaitlin again. “I can’t be sure how long it will take them to get here, but he is competent, and will try to come as soon as he can. If you are here when he arrives, you’ll be in good company. People are heading to the store, and you are the law here now. Go get your boots and keep order.”

  “Okay, I will.” Kaitlin strode to the store. It was the best deal she could have expected. A chance to make a difference.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Kaitlin waded through the people who’d drifted into the store and headed for the rear where Tiana had said the boots would be. She spotted them and snagged them with a hooked finger then pushed through the crowd again, headed for where Bernard sat with Bernice. Bernard held Bernice’s hand while she rested on a wide bench against the wall.

  Kaitlin sat on the floor, pulled off the socks she’d salvaged from Ricky and whipped them across the edge of an empty display shelf to knock the grit from the parking lot off the bottoms. “I need to reestablish order and civilization here in a minute, Bernard. Can I count on you for backup?

  Bernard glanced at her and nodded. “I managed to get the gun we brought from the campground back,” he said. “But, you need to understand that everyone here is at least a bit in awe of you already. You may not have as many problems keeping order as you anticipate.”

  Kaitlin snorted. “Seriously? Whatever for?”

  “The men who dragged the one called Willy to the store were talking about what you did while resisting capture. And how you’d ‘torn Willy a new one’ before they managed to overwhelm you with numbers. All the bastards were glad they hadn’t been the one to get to you first. We all heard. I guarantee we were cheering for you on the inside. I know I was.”

  “Bernard, I want you both to know I was going to come back for you if I’d gotten away.”

  “Never doubted it.” Bernard stood and pulled the Glock from the back of his pants and tucked it in the front of his belt while Bernice nodded agreement.

  Bernard turned to Bernice. “Will you be all right here for a bit, dear?

  “I’m fine. You two go have fun.” Bernice waved to Kaitlin, but didn’t raise her head from the inflatable toy chipmunk Bernard had placed behind her head for a cushion.

  Kaitlin finished lacing the boots and stood up to test them. They were a far cry from her Docs, but they fit well enough. She’d looked turned over every pile she’d found of things taken from the captives but she hadn’t found her boots.

  No use crying over what the wind takes.

  Most of the people in the store were lying on the floor or eating the packaged food the slavers hadn’t devoured. In all, there were twenty-eight people, both walking and wounded.

  Kaitlin walked to a position across from the entrance and turned. “Okay, people, Ayleana made me the law here.”

  She paused and surveyed their faces; some looked relieved, others took on a hooded expression. “So, no grabbing and hoarding,” she continued. “The patient over there needs to sleep for an hour. Everybody go out in groups of three, or with at least one other person, and search all the cars in the area f
or supplies. Each group takes a gun from the ones they had keeping guard. She pulled the Colt 45 from the holster—as though using it for an example—being careful not to point it at anyone.

  “Take five of those shopping baskets per group to hold supplies. I’ll bang on the metal drum outside when the patient wakes, and then we can bring supplies back and sort them out.”

  She pointed to the blue plastic shopping carry-alls. “Pull those baskets outside. Everyone can take one water bottle. Drink it now and take the bottles to Amber....”

  Cleo’s husband piped up. “Come on people, why does she get to appoint the law?”

  Kaitlin rested the barrel of the 45 on her shoulder, staying relaxed, but leaving her face serious. “She also told me to shoot you if you gave any trouble. And, since I’m not sure if that was starting trouble, I’ll let you go sit on the bench outside till your wife wakes up... if you go fast.”

  The yuppie sneered at her, but walked out the door.

  “Ummm. Who is Amber?” said a guy in his twenties with gauged earplugs.

  “Amber is the hot girl with the caramel complexion... who doesn’t have a tail. Take them to her,” Kaitlin said.

  Bernard handed him a water bottle.

  “Now who else here has had experience with firearms besides Bernard?” said Kaitlin.

  Bernard took his cue and surveyed the room with a steely gaze.

  When several hands raised, Kaitlin nodded. “Bernard will take the seven of you on a gun hunt and quiz you on gun handling and safety before putting you with a team of foragers. Anyone can leave whenever they want, but no one leaves with a gun or more than clothes and the bottle of water Bernard handed out. That’s how it is until we’ve all had a chance to see what supplies are available.”

  ”Has anyone picked up one of the guns already?” said Bernard.

  Two of the seven had guns—as did one from the group that didn’t know how to shoot... safely. Bernard took the gun from the man who didn’t know how to use it then led the forager guards toward the door. The rest of the crowd followed.