by Aaron Crash
He thought about what he had told Cali. Elle would come back, if she was still alive when her Onyx levels adjusted. Like Arlo would come back after a bad bender, smelling of puke and insisting he didn’t have a drinking problem.
Like him, Elle would come back with her tail between her legs.
Trina sipped her blood and licked her lip. “So, Ling, do you really think we’ll be able to find Arlo in Meelah space?”
Ling shook his head at her and waved a finger. “We’re not in Meelah space. That moment has not yet arrived, and pondering it will do nothing but steal away from the celebration. I am full and happy, and while I miss Elle, I would like you all to know how much I love you all.”
Bill made clicking noises that sounded suspiciously like puking noises.
Before Fernando could translate, Blaze jumped to his feet. “Let’s leave it at that. Love you too, you crazy sloth. I’ll get started on the dishes.”
In the end, they all helped, but Blaze insisted he’d finish up. He liked the manual labor. It helped him clear his mind. He’d put the last dish away when Lizzie broke through comms.
“Hhhello, Blaze. I hhhave an interstellar communique from Portattle on Earth. From a friend of yours, it seems, a Cat Kristatos. It’s about Elle. And what’s a gyros?”
Blaze dried his hands. “Send it to me.”
He read the text and then braced himself on the sink, breathing hard and sweating. This was too much like Arlo for him not have a severe reaction of PTSD. And he swore, once they got the info they needed from Arlo, Blaze was going to beat the old man within an inch of his life.
“Nombre de Dios, Elle. What have you gotten yourself into?” the gunny muttered, worried sick about what his sister had become.
TWENTY-EIGHT_
╠═╦╬╧╪
They went to Earth after all. They couldn’t abandon her and the snare sphere holding Chthonic. In the end, it wasn’t that far of a detour.
And no one had offered them a side job hunting bounties. Trina was working on something with a Union Ambassador, but there was nothing permanent yet. It’d be a high-profile gig and would pay tons, if it came through.
Earth had become only a semi-interesting backwater stop in the Terran quadrant, kind of like how people used to pull over for the world’s biggest ball of twine in Buttspank, Kansas, back in the day.
Yeah, Earth was where Humans had originated, but none of the cool kids lived there anymore. There were too many other, prettier, less environmentally ravaged places in the galaxy to hang out.
Cat Kristatos ran a gyros shack on the waterfront in Portattle, on the west coast of the American continent, and though her food was amazing, customers were rare. Years ago, Cat had called them to take down an ancient demon out of Greek mythology that had been killing the few clients who still darkened her doorstep when they needed to eat some processed roasted lamb with plenty of onions, tomatoes, and a special sauce in a doughy fresh-baked pita. She made that flatbread from wheat she’d ground herself.
Once landing the Lizzie Borden on Earth, Blaze went alone to talk with Cat. Bill had to scramble their identification codes so the IPC wouldn’t come swooping down on them. Blaze and his crew were still wanted, dead or alive, and the gunny knew the bounty hunters would be coming. Sad thing was, he’d know the luckless bastard who wanted to collect the dollars to bring them in. The idea of fighting Humans seemed kind of ridiculous after the monstrosities they’d faced on Hutchinson Prime.
The Lizzie Borden was docked at the Sea-Tac Starport, but they had to keep a low profile, so Bill would be hard pressed to do any kind of repairs. That would have to wait. They didn’t have the cash for it anyway.
Rain swept down in sheets as Blaze walked the food stands next to the yellow Pacific Ocean. Nothing much lived in the toxic waters, but the Union was trying to bring life back on Earth. It was a good PR campaign. Most Humans didn’t care. Biggest ball of twine, cradle of humanity, whatever.
The IPC made a big show of supporting the Union, then gave the bureaucrats exactly fifty-seven cents.
The yellow ocean was pretty in its own tragic way, and the rain didn’t sting too much on his skin. Felt better than ectoplasm or dragon acid.
Every kind of food was packed in the stalls in hopes of selling somebody something. There were Polish pierogi, Mexican street tacos, Chicago pizza balls, savory crepes and sweet galletes, synthetic fish on sticks, corn on the cob roasted over coals, and there, in the center of it all, was Cat’s Gyros and Falafel Shack.
The smell of the ocean was acid and fish piss. The rain didn’t smell much better, though the deep fryers and spices from all the food helped once he worked his way deeper into the tangle of alleys and restaurants.
Blaze saw someone sitting on the sidewalk outside the gyros shack. It was Elle, caught in the cold downpour, with her arms wrapped around herself. Blaze bet Cat got tired of her shit and kicked her out. Without any place else to go, Elle had collapsed on the street. She wore a long coat that had seen a hundred owners, most of them homeless. It covered her dress, which was shredded. Her bandolier was nowhere to be seen, disappeared along with her pouches, even Granny’s purse.
He figured the snare sphere was long gone, lost, with her running around insane with evil shit cooking her mind to meth-flavored mincemeat. Right then, Blaze didn’t care about Chthonic.
Soaked, Elle shook and tried to claw warmth back into her body by squeezing her arms into her chest and rocking back and forth. She hadn’t seen him yet.
He walked up, in a waterproof hoodie and jeans, and stood over her.
She glanced up. He’d seen ghosts that looked better. Her eyes were hurt by the shadows around them. Her face was too pale and her chin too pointed. She’d not eaten for days on end, that was clear.
More than that, her energy was gone. Blaze checked his display. Now that they were in range, he could see her mojo level and her VHI. She had point zero zero zero two percent Onyx energy in her system. Just enough to keep her alive. Her VHI wasn’t much better.
Blaze crouched and reached out a hand.
Tears mixed with rain on his sister’s face. “Family?” she asked. As if that one word could solve everything.
That day, on Earth, it could.
“Family,” Blaze said. He lifted her up and they shuffled into the gyros shack, glowing with hope in the dark of the rainstorm and the coming night.
Books, Mailing List, and Reviews
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Other Works by Aaron Crash
War God’s Mantle: Ascension (Book 1)
Books from Shadow Alley Press
James A. Hunter
Strange Magic (Yancy Lazarus Episode One)
Cold Hearted (Yancy Lazarus Episode Two)
Flashback: Siren Song (Yancy Lazarus Episode 2.5)
Wendigo Rising (Yancy Lazarus Episode Three)
Flashback: The Morrigan (Yancy Lazarus Episode 3.5)
Savage Prophet (Yancy Lazarus Episode Four)
Brimstone Blues: A Yancy Lazarus Novel
***
MudMan (A Lazarus World Novel)
***
Viridian Gate Online: Cataclysm (Book 1)
Viridian Gate Online: Crimson Alliance (Book 2)
Viridian Gate Online: The Jade Lord (Book 3)
The Artificer DLC 1.1: A Viridian Gate Online Novel
eden Hudson
Revenge of the Bloodslinger: A Jubal Van Zandt Novel (Book 1)
Beautiful Corpse: A Jubal Van Zandt Novel (Book 2)
Soul Jar: A Jubal Van Zandt Novel (Book 3)
Garden of Time: A Jubal Van Zandt Novel (Book 4)
***
Halo Bound (Redneck Apocalypse Book 1)
Lion’s Den (Redneck Apocalypse Book 1.5)
Hell Bent (Redneck Apocalypse Book 2)
God Killer (Redneck Apocalypse Book 3)
About the Author
As Aaron Michael Ritchey, he writes award-winning and bestselling young adult novels. As Aaron Crash, he writes adrenaline-fueled odysseys into the extreme regions of sci-fi/fantasy. If you're looking for cyborg vampires or jellyfish centaurs, you've come to the right place. Either way, he grew up reading fast, fun, action novels, and so he decided to write those kinds of books. They're kind of a departure from his AMR stuff, but not really. You'll still get excitement, drama, and explosions, man, lots of explosions.
Dedication
For Jason Henry Evans. We’re making bricks without straw.
Special Thanks
Jason Evans, my comrade in arms, told me about James Hunter and Shadow Alley Press, so I wouldn’t be here without him. He’s a friend, a fellow author, and we took the Night’s Watch oath together. Thanks, Jason, for hooking me up.
I can’t thank James and Jeanette enough for including me in their dastardly plans to take over the galaxy. I have loved every single minute I’ve spent writing books for Shadow Alley Press. You guys rock.
While James and Jeanette did a couple rounds of editing, I also have to thank Tamara and Eden for the spit and polish. Thanks for helping me sound far smarter than I actually am.
I’ve spent the last ten years going to two writing conferences: Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers and Pikes Peak Writers and both conferences are so wonderful and taught me everything I ever needed to know. Thank you!
And a big thank you to two local Colorado science-fiction/fantasy cons in Colorado: Mile-Hi Con and Myths and Legends Con. Rose Beetem and Nikki Ebright, respectively, both have big hearts and both shine like rockstars.
Finally, big thanks to my family who kept looking at me oddly when I talked about the various creatures and scenarios in my Aaron Crash books. It’s a blender, my dudes, and this time I’m skipping the kale.
—Aaron Crash, February 2018
Copyright
Neutron Dragon Attack is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Aaron Michael Ritchey and Shadow Alley Press, Inc.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the publisher, subject line “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.
[email protected]
