by Mel Odom
The fact that she couldn't remember her own childhood tormented Hella. She wondered if it were possible that she still had parents and siblings out in the world somewhere. But she didn't know Her earliest memories were of being alone and of Stampede. Sometimes she felt guilty for wanting to know more. The bisonoid had been a good provider for her until she'd been able to become a full-fledged partner.
She pushed Colleen Trammell out of her mind; then Riley jumped right in there. The man had been interested in her as a woman, and that had been... intriguing. A lot of the men Hella encountered were all about lust. She knew what that felt like, and she'd isolated herself from the way their looks had made her feel alternately unclean and vulnerable. In their eyes, she was just a prize to be won.
She hadn't thought that was the case with Riley. Or maybe she didn't want it to be the case with Riley. She had to admit, and it was easier doing that with herself than with Stampede, that idea was pretty stupid. Riley saw her differently than anyone else had. She saw that in his eyes.
To make up for some of the time he'd lost them, Pardot also insisted on traveling into the night. According to Pardot, Riley and the guards could use night-vision gear to keep watch for potential pitfalls.
"Back out of there, Red. Let them have point."
Reluctantly Hella had done that even though she felt confident about her and Daisy's ability to keep them safe. But she understood Stampede's logic.
"Maybe they think no one can see them in those hardshells, but anyone carrying tech themselves can." Stampede had spoken over the comm link. "If they're going to be bear bait, let them run by themselves. You and I need to stay clear."
Hella knew it was true, but she didn't like hanging back with the others.
Nearly two hours into the dark march, one of the convoy trailers mired in a mud pit, and Klein angrily shut them down. They made camp on the lee side of a hill festooned with birch and blackjack. As before, Pardot insisted on setting the defense bots along the perimeter.
"Looks like we get another night's sleep." Stampede turned the spit over their fire. The quail Hella had collected during the last hour of light roasted over their private campfire. Fat dripped off the birds' bodies and sizzled on the open flames.
"I'm not feeling very restful." Hella fed small twigs to the fire to keep it burning evenly.
"Change your mind about pulling up stakes on this one?"
Surprised, Hella glanced at Stampede. She was conflicted and she knew it. She didn't want to leave Colleen Trammell or Riley. The former she understood but not the latter. "Is that what you want to do?"
"Things have gotten decidedly more tense since this morning. Me and you are getting frozen out of Riley's security debriefs, and Pardot is making sure to drive a wall between you and Colleen Trammell." Stampede bared his teeth in a grimace and snorted. "Good sense says that what we should do is pick up our marbles and go, but that's not what I want to do."
"Because of Colleen?"
"No, not because of Colleen. She's not my problem, and she's not your problem. You need to remember that. Colleen is part of these people. Whatever problems she has, these people are more set up to handle them than we are."
"I don't believe she's mentally deficient. Pardot's lying about that."
"Maybe so but the lady's definitely got something wrong with her head. Even if its just the precog ability messing with her. We're not set up to deal with that either, especially if she can call these ripples to her."
"So why do you want to stay?"
"Whatever they're after, it's got to be worth a lot. Otherwise they wouldn't have come out here with so many people."
A cold feeling stirred in Hella's stomach. She'd been with Stampede for years, and she felt certain she knew him well. During that time he'd never given in to any temptation to steal from their clients. Other scouts sometimes killed an expedition to the last man and took everything those people had. That was one reason outsiders were cautious about hiring scouts and never allowed their numbers to get larger than the party's.
"You're not talking about hijacking whatever they're after?"
"No." Stampede didn't take offense at the question. "I'm thinking that whatever they're after is big. Maybe big enough that we can walk away with a score of our own with what slips through their fingers."
Hella hadn't thought about that, but it made sense. "What do you think they're after?"
Stampede shook his head and flicked an ear at a buzzing insect hovering around him. "I don't know but I think we'll find out soon enough."
After the quail were gone and the fire had died down, Riley joined Hella and Stampede at their campsite. "Dr. Pardot says his PDA shows we've got about three more miles to Blossom Heat. I wanted to make sure that was right."
Hella worked on the rabbit hides. The furs were trade goods she could barter at the camp. She had a few others in Daisy's packs. She ignored Riley because she didn't want Stampede there when she talked to the man. Having Stampede listening in over the comm link all the time was bad enough. It would have been better if she'd known how to treat Riley.
"If we get an early start, we can reach Blossom Heat before midday. You can tell Dr. Pardot that the trade camp has generators there that pump water. By this time tomorrow night, he can enjoy a shower in a room. If he has the money to pay for it."
The room didn't interest Hella. She didn't like sleeping indoors. Inside was too noisy with the sounds of everyone around her. Outdoors had more room, and the noises weren't packed in on top of each other. But she was looking forward to a hot bath. Grabbing a quick soak in the early morning hours before the rest of the camp was up had gotten old.
"I'll let him know." Riley paused. "Get a good night's sleep, Hella."
"Sure." Hella's cheeks flamed and she didn't dare look at Riley or Stampede. "Thanks."
After a brief hesitation, Riley walked away.
"You'll want to watch yourself around that one, Red." Stampede's voice was slow and measured.
"Because he's interested in me as something more than a scout?" Hella fixed Stampede with a defiant glare.
Stampede twitched an ear in irritation, and his nostrils flared. "No. Because I don't like the way he looks at you."
"He looks at me like I'm a woman. And whether you like it or not, I am a woman. I'm not a little kid anymore."
"You're also not as experienced as you think you are. Somebody like Riley will turn you inside out."
Hella pushed herself to her feet. "I'm going to go check on Daisy."
Stampede nodded but didn't say anything.
Angry, Hella took her pack and walked over to the tree where she'd left the mountain boomer. She didn't want to be mad at Stampede but she was. There were things she needed to learn, and she didn't need Stampede blowing over her shoulder while she learned them. It was frustrating.
She also didn't want to be so interested in Riley, but she was that too. She knew she didn't trust the man completely, but that was all right too. Making a choice between Stampede and someone else wasn't anything she wanted to do soon. She was certain that Riley would be nothing more than a diversion, and a diversion wasn't a commitment. In fact, someone such as Riley—someone who would be gone soon—might be the best diversion to have.
At least having him around made her feel different.
CHAPTER 8
Blossom Heat lay at the bottom of a small valley. Hella reined in Daisy and gazed down the hill. Even with her sunglasses, the bright, noonday sun hurt her eyes a little. She was soaked in her own clothing from baking in the heat. The chain-mail shirt chafed against her skin. And it stank.
Hella stood up in the stirrups and stretched her legs. Daisy shifted beneath her, anxious to be off again. The lizard's keen olfactory senses had picked up the scent of cured meat coming from the trade camp. Carnegie, the trade camp's owner, kept a couple of hunters on permanent retainer to track feral pigs in the surrounding area. There were always fresh hams and barbecue for sale at Blossom Heat.
&
nbsp; At Riley's command, two of the hardshells on ATVs sped down the wide trade trail toward the camp. Hella fell in behind them. She knew even a klick away that she already wore gun sights on her chest. Snipers manned the towers on the four corners of the camp. Riley's men were more confident than they had any reason to be.
From her present vantage point, she could see over the five-meter-high metal walls that surrounded the trade camp. Before the Darkness, when the collider had unleashed unholy hell to rewrite the world, the trade camp had been a supply station along the superhighways that had crossed the old world. Carnegie had books with pictures that showed the camp as it had been. Of course, nearly all of that had changed, and Hella wasn't certain that the pictures in the book were even anywhere around the Redblight.
The burly gorilloid stared Riley in the eyes and didn't flinch. "Not all of you are coming inside the camp." His voice was a raspy growl that sounded more animal than human, but he could be easily understood.
"That's absurd." Klein Pardot strode up to the gorilloid and looked him over.
Faust was impressive too look at. Standing two meters tall, he was broad and heavy with slabs of muscle, and he was armed to the teeth. Bandoliers of .50-caliber rounds for his assault rifle crisscrossed his thick chest. Four grenades hung like fruit. The two handguns in shoulder leather were matched by two more at his hips. The gorilloid had four hands and he used them all in a firefight. Gray and white scars showed through his matting of black hair. His close-set eyes were buried deep under a low shelf of brow.
"That's how it's gonna be, puppet man." Faust curled a lip over his canines and fixed Pardot with a glare. "Now why don't you haul your tin butt over there out of the way before I pound you one and they have to get a can opener just so you can see daylight again?"
Outraged, Pardot stood as tall as he could and barely came to Faust's shoulder, and only then because the gorilloid wasn't tall, just broad. "Take me to your master."
Faust leaned down to Pardot, causing the man to lean back. "I don't have a master, bub. I have an employer. And you'd best not make that mistake again."
Pardot stepped back. "Stampede."
Making his way forward, Stampede reached the gorilloid and shoved out a hand. Stampede stood a head taller than Faust.
Faust took the proffered hand and nodded. His black, rubbery lips twitched up in a smile that would have drained the hearts of most men. "Thought I recognized you back there. Been a long time since you were out this way." The gorilloid rolled an eye over Pardot, Riley, and the security men. "You with these guys, Stampede?"
"My expedition, yeah." Stampede's hand had disappeared in Faust's grip.
"Got some real greeners here."
"They haven't been in-country before. First time in the Redblight."
"They gotta get smarter faster." Faust shook his head and released Stampede's hand. "And if they don't, they're going to get you dead too."
Hella smiled at the look of sour annoyance on Pardot's thin lips. No one was impressed by his entourage.
"I'm working on it. For the moment, though, how many people can we bring inside the camp at one time ? They've got money and aren't shy about spending it."
"Carnegie'll be happy to see them, then. I'll spot you ten." Faust pulled a PDA from his pocket. "If you're going to vouch for them."
"I will."
Hella smiled at little at that, knowing then that Pardot would have to recognize they might not have gotten inside at all if not for Stampede and his connections.
Faust gazed at the security team in their hardshells. "I get ten inside. No one else goes in until someone comes out."
"Does that include Hella and me?"
"You still got that little imp with you?" Faust looked over the crowd.
"Know anybody else that rides a dinosaur?" Stampede jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Daisy. The mountain boomer slurped from one of the watering troughs out front. Carnegie kept fresh water out front for free because people would fight and die over water if they needed it.
Faust grinned and stepped toward Hella. He wrapped her up in his powerful arms and hugged her tightly. "How ya doin', imp?"
Hella hugged the gorilloid back fiercely. His fur was smooth and soft, but the bandoliers bit into her skin. "I'm still alive."
Gently Faust put her back on the ground and looked at her. "You're growing, imp. Gonna be breaking hearts any day. But if any of them break yours, you come see Uncle Faust and we'll dig the grave together."
Even though she smiled, she knew the gorilloid meant it. In his own way, Faust was just as protective of her as Stampede was. In the end Faust wanted more of the civilized life than Stampede had, and they'd gone their separate ways four years earlier.
"And if you see something inside the camp that you like and old hornhead there won't spring for it, come see me."
"I will." Hella hugged him again and stepped back. "I'll come see you even if I don't find anything I like well enough to carry out of here. I seem to recall somebody being a stickler for extra weight when we traveled together."
"That's my imp." Faust returned to his position at the door. "Ten inside. Your scouts don't count, puppet man, because I think of them as part of our own. The rest of you pick a shady spot and settle in."
Hella walked through the open gate and crossed the worn, cracked concrete skirting that made up most of Blossom Heat's inner courtyard. The original building remained at the center, but it had been rebuilt several times over the intervening years. Some of the work had come as a result of time and decay, but other work had been required after attacks. Firebombs had gutted all the other buildings, but they'd been rebuilt as well. Most of the buildings were small stores with bars across the windows. None of the windows held glass because shattered fragments turned into deadly weapons during a rocket or grenade blast.
"Hella."
Recognizing Colleen Trammell's voice, Hella stopped and looked back.
Standing between two security people who had obviously been assigned to her, Colleen looked pasty and worn. Sweat glistened across her cheeks, and dark circles hollowed her eyes. She walked a little unsteadily.
"Are you all right?" Hella felt certain the woman was on the verge of collapse.
"I'm fine." Then, as if recognizing that Hella saw through her lies, Colleen swallowed and lifted her chin. "I'll be fine. Dr. Pardot gave me something so I could function better."
Or be more manageable? Hella thought that was more likely the truth.
"It's a necessary evil if I'm going to function. The senses that I have that tie me to the ripples have never been stronger." Colleen fingered a simple, silver chain at her neck. A small oval containing a picture of Alice hung there. She recognized the girl from the photo on the PDA. As in the previous photo, Hella recognized the sense of joy and wonder about her that she had never before seen in a child.
"Maybe you should sit down."
"I'll be all right. If you don't mind, I'd like you to show me around."
"I'd be happy to."
The security guard on the left shifted. "Dr. Pardot gave us strict orders that we were to stay with you."
"Stay with us." Hella didn't look at the guard. She looked at Colleen. "You don't know your way around this place either."
"Careful, Red." Down the small street, Stampede stood in front of the armorer's shop and spoke over the comm link. "You're flirting with the edge."
"Do you know any other way to find out what's going on?" Hella whispered under her breath.
Stampede's silence was the only acknowledgment she needed.
Colleen smiled weakly. "That sounds fabulous." She held out her hand. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind steadying me."
Hella wrapped the woman's arm inside her own and took some of her weight. Colleen was slight and helping her was easy, but the tremors that ran through her almost unnerved Hella. To a person who lived out in the Redblight, sickness was one of the most fearful things to encounter. That was why they burned the dead instead of burying th
em.
"The security chief knew you."
"Faust? Yeah." Hella guided Colleen through the main building of Carnegie's trade camp. They walked along a line of clothing that scavengers had discovered and brought in to sell. Some of them had bright colors, were in styles that would never work in the wilderness, and had sayings that Hella didn't understand, including DO THE DEW. What could that have possibly meant? And why would someone need to be told to do something if it were necessary? And if it weren't necessary, why put it on a shirt to remind yourself? "He used to ride with us. He was with Stampede when they found me. He was Stampede's partner back in those days and helped take care of me."
Raised by animals? That explains a lot.
Hella started to turn in the direction of the guard who stood behind her, certain that was where the voice had come from.
Inside his open-faced helmet, the man looked back at her guilelessly.
"Did you say something?" Hella stood her ground.
"No."
Hella. The voice was different. She recognized it as Colleen's, but it wasn't like any other time she'd heard the woman speak. She looked at Colleen and noticed the sheen of perspiration had gotten wetter, dripping from her chin. I'm sorry. That wasn't meant to get through. Don't let them know I'm talking to you this way.
You're an espee? Hella tried to let go of the woman's hand, but Colleen held on with fierce determination.
Don't. Please. Even Dr. Pardot doesn't know I can do this. And it's very, very hard. I have to be in physical contact with someone in order for it to work best. That thought wasn't mine. It was the guard's. One of the guards'. I don't know which. I don't have a lot of control over what gets through once I start doing this.
Hella forced herself to relax. In all of her travels with Stampede, she'd never encountered an espee. She was familiar with psi talents, those that could be controlled and those that were wild. But the thought of someone able to invade her mind was horrifying.
