Danger's Halo: (Holly Danger Book 1)

by Amanda Carlson

  This was why you kept your residences a secret. The fewer people who knew your movements, the better off you were.

  “I know. We’re running late.” I let go of the button, then depressed it again. “Waiting for Rennie to arrive.” Lockland had let Daze pick his handle. The kid had gone for a shout-out to his lost pal. It’d made my heart do that clenchy thing again. I let go of the button and turned to Daze. “Lockland’s antsy, and we don’t want that. We need to land this thing. Does anything seem familiar? It should. According to your map, we’re right on top of things.”

  “It’s darker out than it was yesterday,” Daze countered. That was true. Sometimes the cloud cover was opaque, allowing the moon to filter through, and sometimes it was solid black. The rain was coming down harder, the clouds thicker, thus less light.

  I made an executive decision. I depressed the button one more time and said, “Heading over now. Remember, Rennie likes his cake warm.” I stuck my phone in a front pocket, easily accessible, and eased Luce forward. If Daze thought it was hard to see, try operating a craft in the dark with no headlamps. It was a good thing my eyes were used to seeing little to guide me.

  I’d been in this part of Port Station only twice before, but I knew there was an open space on top of a gnarled old building right over the wall. I just had to find it. Unfortunately, we didn’t have set routes in Port Station. It was too small. Roughly three square kilometers. But today, between the four of us, we’d been able to come up with a fairly solid plan.

  Static came through my phone, and a second later, Bender’s voice came through my vest pocket. “I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight. Enjoy your meal without me.”

  I had both hands on the controls. “Shit.”

  Daze recognized the alarm in my voice. “What?”

  “Lockland bribed the guards on the way in, but Bender just let us know that the way out was going to be trickier. Either somebody backed out, or they couldn’t make contact with the next shift.” I began to lower Luce onto what I hoped was the right location, engaging her landing gear. I could make out a silhouette of an old fan unit beneath us, so it looked about right.

  We were going to find out in about ten seconds.

  Luce’s right side hit first, and as I tried to steady her, the left side came down a meter lower with a large clunk. I’d found the fan, but instead of landing next to it, I’d landed on it. Once the craft settled, I punched her off. “This is going to have to do. We can’t afford the noise or time to go up and try again. I’ve parked here before. Last time, the building was abandoned.” We didn’t have to worry about seekers either. Port Station was small, and they were able to deal with them.

  Departing the craft at a serious angle was going to be interesting. My door scraped the roof as it lifted, and I made my way out as gracefully as I could—which hadn’t been anywhere near graceful, it was a mess of contortions and shimmying and trying to exhale myself thinner. Finally on the outside, I beckoned Daze to slide out my side, since his was up in the air. He unbuckled and scooted toward me. He exited just fine. The advantages of a small frame.

  The basics of the plan were: He would lead me to his old house, hide outside while I went in, I would get the stuff, and then we would get the hell out.

  I shut the door once Daze was out, and we made our way to the edge of the building at a crouch. “Anything look familiar now?” I whispered.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Not exactly the help I was hoping for.

  “According to your map, we’re only a few blocks away. The buildings around here are low, so we’ve got a good vantage point from up here. You said your place was next to one of the taller buildings.” I scanned the horizon in front of us. “How about that one?” I gestured to one that looked like it fit the description.

  “Yeah, that looks like it.”

  That was good enough for me.

  Instead of going into the building via the door and risking encountering anyone, I headed to the other side to an old fire escape. It was rusted, slightly misshapen, and missing sections, but it would accomplish the goal of getting us closer to the ground.

  I glanced over the edge, relieved to see it was still there.

  “Same routine as last time,” I told Daze. “I lean over and drop you down, and then I come after.” He nodded as he sat on the edge. I braced my waist against the lip, linking my arm around his, bending over as far as I could. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  I let go.

  He landed with his legs compressed, tottering a bit as he tried to catch his balance. I held my breath. Half of the guard rail was missing. He finally stood, glancing up at me and giving me a thumbs-up.

  I lowered myself off the side, the front of my vest scraping against the surface of the rough bricks, my gloves keeping my grip solid for the umpteenth time in their lives. Man, I loved these gloves. “Head down the steps. I’ll be right behind you.” I let go once he moved, dropping to the platform. The weight of my landing caused the entire structure to quake and wobble. I grabbed on to a portion of the remaining rail to steady myself. Daze was already two flights down, and I hurried to catch up.

  We both made it to the ground without issue. I set my finger against my lips, gesturing for him to follow quietly. We kept low to the ground, that being easier for the kid than me, but I had this hunched-while-running thing down pat. I was surprised my back wasn’t permanently curved after all these years of trying to keep out of sight.

  A noise came from up ahead, and I veered us in between two buildings, tugging Daze along. Just because it was blackout, didn’t mean people stopped moving around. Port Station was safer than the city as far as seekers went, but worse for everyday petty crime. There were too few resources to go around. It made people edgy.

  A few minutes later, two bodies moved past our location.

  We’d taken cover behind a pile of building scraps. Their silhouettes suggested that they were male, but they didn’t speak, so it was hard to know. I counted to sixty before I eased us out onto the road. The men had already turned off our street. I leaned over to Daze, whispering in his ear, “We’re going to cross here. We stick to the shadows. Two blocks up, we take a left, then a right, and we should arrive at your residence.”

  Daze was smart not to reply.

  I took off, the kid following less than a meter behind. I enjoyed that I didn’t have to keep reiterating my rules. It made things easier. I was fond of easier.

  Once we were within a block, I drew my Gem and my taser. I carried my Gem in my right hand, my taser in my left. Daze knew the plan. He’d told me where he hid the pico—under some old stair treads behind a door in his bedroom that led to an unused attic space that had been walled off long ago. In front of his building, I elbowed him in the shoulder to make sure we were in the right place.

  He glanced up and nodded.

  I searched for an adequate hiding place to stow him. A large abandoned trash bin sat a few meters away. It was piled high, likely containing years old refuse, spilling over the front, making a good blockade. I led Daze over, gesturing for him to scoot behind it. “Stay put,” I whispered on the barest breath. “I’m going to circle the perimeter just to make sure before I go in. It doesn’t look like anybody occupies this place, so that’s good.”

  Daze nodded.

  Before I went to investigate, I withdrew my tech phone and pressed the button twice, letting Bender and Lockland know I was ready to enter. If they didn’t hear from me within a half hour, they’d back me up. Lockland was positioned outside the regular city limits, waiting to see what happened. Then I put on my chromes.

  Creeping stealthily around the building, I stopped at intervals to listen, my shoulder brushing against the chipped stone, my feet sidestepping the inevitable trash. I heard nothing, not even people in nearby homes. This must be a less-desirable neighborhood in Port Station, which was fine by me. At the main entrance, I ducked inside, stepping over the threshold where a door should’ve been. />
  Daze had said his residence was on the third floor. This entire building was only three stories high and held six units. Dodging several piles of debris, my weapons up, my arms sweeping back and forth, I came to a stop at the base of the stairway. Still no noise, which meant this might end up being a peaceful transaction. If we’d made it here before Tandor decided to try and track down Daze to get his quantum drive back, we were golden.

  Carefully picking my way up to the third floor, I stopped midclimb, cocking my head. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard a noise or not. The sound had been so low it could’ve been anything, including a tap of rain on the roof.

  I stayed still for a full minute.

  The sound did not repeat itself.

  I had two options. I could continue, or I could retreat. If I retreated, we ran the risk of not being able to capture our booty. If the noise had been nothing, the trip would be a waste.

  The prize was too great and I continued.

  My foot tentatively tracked up to the next tread, my back against the wall, my weapons aimed in either direction. The Gem was deadly, and the taser would incapacitate for at least an hour.

  The hallway at the top was short. Daze had said his unit was on the left. I pivoted, crossing the landing, my head swiveling. I brought my taser hand up to my glasses and clicked through the dials. No heat signatures, no ultraviolet, and no gammas, which meant the area I was inspecting was clear of people and anything transmitting a signal, which could be a variety of tech items and bombs.

  I eased open the door of Daze’s unit, wincing at the squeak, placing my back against the wall inside, crouching down, listening. As I gazed around the dim space, my heart broke a little. It appeared his mother had tried her best, but the place was filled with broken furniture and discarded items. Things had fallen onto the floor and hadn’t been picked up again. In the corner sat a ratty mattress, the blankets old and shredded. Various clothing items lay scattered around. Daze had said that his mother had slept out here and had given him the only private sleeping room.

  Easing up off the ground, I made my way toward the back of the unit, entering a short hallway. A waste room sat to my right, open windows to my left. Daze’s space was straight ahead. The waste room door was ajar enough for me to get a glimpse inside. It held a sad-looking chem-toilet and a space to stand over a drain for cleaning.

  Continuing on, I stopped at the entry of Daze’s room, leaning my head into the small space, scanning the area. There were two doors across the almost-empty space, one on the far left and one on the right. According to Daze, one was to a closet, and one led to a set of stairs to an old attic space.

  The closet door, to the left, was cracked open. The one on the right was closed. That was the one I needed. Daze said he’d hidden the computer and some valuables under one of the treads. I’d promised to get everything he’d placed there. Unlike the outer room, Daze’s space was completely free of junk. The mattress, although old and filthy, had a blanket folded at the end. There was a picture on the wall—a painting of some kind that had faded beyond recognition. Nothing in the room was integrated like my place in the canals. Instead, a small table with a single drawer sat next to his mattress.

  With my Gem gun aimed in front of me, I made my way to the closed door.

  In and out.

  I holstered my taser and grasped the knob as noise erupted from behind. I swung my arm around, my body trying to follow, but my movement was impeded by a large hand cupping my mouth tightly, hot breath on my neck. “If you want to save the kid, don’t make a sound.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Making a sound wasn’t my intention, but breaking out of the iron grasp holding me was. My shoulder shot backward, using my attacker as a counterweight, aided by my legs, with enough force to make the man gasp.

  I was well versed in hand-to-hand combat and had been since the age of ten. When Bender was your sparring partner as a kid, you learned a thing or two.

  Instead of letting me go, the man dragged me backward, forcing me into the closet where he’d obviously been lying in wait. I swore, the hand still over my lips muzzling the sound, for not checking it first. He must’ve positioned himself behind the door so I didn’t pick up on his heat signature.

  I was going to pay dearly for that mistake.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he hissed as I brought my heel up, crashing it into his knee. He buckled, but didn’t lose his grip. He had to be as big as Bender, judging by the barrel of the chest I currently pressed up against, along with the height of his shoulders, which were above mine. “They’ve already been here.”

  I stopped struggling for a moment.

  “If you want to save the kid, who you stashed outside, do as I say.” The timbre of his voice was deep and raspy, his words gritty. There was no doubt in my mind that he was an outskirt. He smelled like one, too, musky with a lingering scent of liquid fuel.

  My Gem gun was still out, but he had that arm in a firm grasp, his grip painful as his fingers dug into my flesh. I wasn’t about to give up. I rotated my upper torso as much as I could, angling my head forward, then twisted my body, bashing my head back with as much momentum as I could garner from my locked position.

  I connected solidly with his face.

  He let go, bracing both of his hands over his gushing nose, which I’d just broken with a satisfying crack.

  I pivoted, both hands gripping the handle of my gun, aiming it at his neck. The only part of him exposed. It would do.

  He dropped his hands and held them out in front of him, blood continuing to pour from both nostrils. Through my infrared glasses, it looked odd, like two pools of rapidly moving heat.

  “We both want the same thing,” he ground out, his words edgy.

  “I highly doubt that.” My voice was like ice. I’d been taken by surprise two times today, twice too fucking many.

  “I’ve been tracking you.” I couldn’t see his features. They were covered by a helmet and a visor, and he wore a long trench coat and dark underclothes. But I was one hundred percent certain he wasn’t familiar to me. I’d remember that voice anywhere. I didn’t respond. Instead, I tapped a finger on the trigger. He continued, “I saw you with the boy. By the cliff. I’m looking for Tandor. We want the same thing.”

  “Keep talking.”

  He shrugged, his hands still up, his nose releasing blood. It must be a bad break. “That’s it.”

  “How did you know how to find the boy by the gorge?” I asked.

  “I have someone on the inside.”

  A scream rent the air.

  It was high pitched, followed by frantic yelling. Daze. I turned to race out of the closet, but was caught by the elbow. I used the twisting motion in my favor as my attacker yanked me backward. My fist rose automatically, connecting with his neck as I spun around.

  He sputtered as he fell backward, but he didn’t loosen his grip on my arm.

  Dammit.

  I brought my leg up to kick him where it would hurt the most, but he pivoted out of the way, all while hauling me up against him. My free hand gripped his upper arm. It was unyielding.

  Blood covered the bottom half of his face like an oil slick, including his teeth as he flashed them centimeters from mine. “Listen to me, goddammit,” he snarled. “They’re taking the kid, and there’s nothing you can do about it. There are too many, and they have weapons they’re not afraid to use—weapons that could blow up this entire town.”

  I struggled to break free, but he held firm. I tilted my head back as a primal roar issued out of my throat. “Let me go!”

  Noise sounded inside the building.

  Feet tracking upward.

  Before I knew it, the mystery man with the iron grip whipped me around in the small space and shoved me through a trapdoor in the floor. I landed on my feet in the unit below and wasted no time making my exit. I raced into the bedroom. Behind me, there was a loud thump as the man came down after me, his heavy boot treads catching up faster than I would’v
e liked.

  I entered the hallway. It was exactly the same floor plan as the unit upstairs. I was almost out when he caught me around the waist. Before I could retaliate, he hoisted me up, spun me around, and without any preamble dropped me out an open window.

  My arms cartwheeled out as I fell. Remaining cognizant of my situation, I kept a firm grip on my gun, which lucky for me was second nature. I hit hard, compressing my legs at the last minute to aid the landing. I rolled a few times, unavoidably crashing into a pile of trash. I was splayed on my back, in a prime position to watch the man jump from the same window, his trench billowing up around him.

  He was more prepared for the landing, rolling twice, and was up. He had me by the arm, dragging me off the ground as three men raced around the side of the building, shouting at us, aiming their weapons.

  Lasers erupted around us, burning holes in things to our left and right. Moving targets at a distance were harder to hit. “What the fuck?” I yelled, pumping my arms, bobbing, and weaving. The man’s hands were off of me, but I followed him, because a) I had no other choice, and b) he hadn’t tried to kill me. Yet.

  The man turned abruptly, taking off to the right. I spotted what he was running toward half a second later.

  Both doors to the Q7 lifted on their own as we got closer. “Get in!” he shouted as he leaped inside.

  We’d outpaced our chasers, but the laser fire kept coming.

  I jumped into the passenger side, the door already closing as the mystery man rocketed us up into the air. This craft had ascended far faster than Luce was capable of gaining altitude. He had efficiently gotten us out of handheld-laser range in under three seconds.

  Once we were up high enough, I demanded, “Circle around.” I gestured out the windshield in front of me. “My ride is down there.”

  He shook his head, powering us forward with a propulsion blast that shot me backward in my seat.