Rangers

by Chloe Garner

  She smiled.

  “Nice. How fast can you go across the valley?”

  She grinned.

  “Very nice.”

  “Makes me dizzy,” he said.

  “Motion sickness,” she laughed. “I think you’ll get used to it. Now, try jumping from one point to another, like blinking.”

  He rolled away from her and scrambled to the edge of the rocks, where he threw up. He spat half a dozen times, then came back and sat down in front of her.

  “Again.”

  <><><>

  “So have you ever hunted vampires?” Elizabeth asked that night at dinner.

  “A couple of times,” Jason said. Samantha snorted.

  “Are they just tragic?” Elizabeth asked.

  “There are a few different kinds,” Jason said. “Some of them are really smart and really interesting, and you’re half-tempted to go out partying with them instead of killing them. Others are just killing machines.”

  Samantha looked at Sam.

  “Seriously?” she asked. He shrugged.

  “I’m not saying I’d be drinking buddies, but they aren’t all mad-scientist evil.”

  Samantha turned to Heather.

  “Blood-sucking impurities,” Heather said, casting a dour glance at Jason. Samantha shook her head.

  “Wow. There is no such thing as vampires,” she said.

  “The last one’s name was Christian, and he and his girlfriend Elouise… They were just into some freaky things,” Jason said. Elizabeth grinned. “If they hadn’t been undead, I’d have wished them a happy, consensual evening and gone on my way.”

  “No such thing as vampires. No such thing as werewolves,” she insisted.

  “Kind of a weird time and place to be making claims about what does and doesn’t exist,” Jason said. “Considering we wiped out a nest of goblins a couple of days back, and then a - what - a pit lord slashes my coolant lines.”

  He waved his fork at her.

  “You’re just jealous because our job is cooler than yours, whatever it is.”

  She shook her head and returned to her meal.

  “I’m just saying. This is excellent, by the way, Heather.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Some of my friends are driving into Dallas tonight for a concert. Do you want to go?” Elizabeth asked Jason.

  “Sure. Sounds awesome. What do you think, Sam?”

  “I’ve got nothing better to do tonight. Simon’s got a lead, but he’s not far enough along for me to help,” Sam said. “What do you think, Sam? You want to go?”

  Elizabeth turned her beautiful face to Samantha, her hair falling like feathers across her shoulders, and shook her head, her mouth turning up in exactly the kind of smile Samantha remembered from her middle school years.

  “You should so come.”

  “You guys should go. I have some work I’ve been putting off that I should get done tonight,” she said. Elizabeth grinned.

  “Are you sure?”

  Samantha bit the inside of her lip, anger battling insecurity and a desire to escape.

  “You should come,” Sam said. “Or I’ll stay.”

  “Sam,” Jason said. “When was the last time we went to a concert? Middle of last year, at least, right?”

  “Seriously, you guys go,” Samantha said. Elizabeth looked at her watch.

  “Lisa will be here any minute. I’m going to go get dressed.”

  “We could stand a change of clothes, too,” Jason said, slapping Sam in the shoulder and grinning. Sam shot one last look at Samantha, and she smiled.

  “Go.”

  The three of them left, and Samantha stood to help Heather clear the table.

  “It’s good that Sam is going,” Heather said.

  “How old are we, again?” Samantha asked. Heather laughed.

  “Boys and girls act like children around each other their entire lives,” she said.

  “Elizabeth just looks so… young,” Samantha said. Heather nodded.

  “Life hasn’t left much mark on her, yet,” she said. “Thank you. You go find a seat you like in the living room. You are my guest.”

  Samantha waited for a moment, and Heather shooed her out of the kitchen again. Feet thundering down the stairs a few minutes later met headlights sweeping across the front of the house and an engine shutting down.

  “I told her I’d drive,” Elizabeth said from the front hallway. “Bye, Mom!”

  Sam stuck his head into the living room and Samantha waved.

  “Have fun.”

  He dipped his head, his eyes asking if she was sure, and she nodded.

  “Go.”

  The front door slammed and Samantha sat with her laptop in her lap for about twenty minutes before Heather joined her.

  “You mind company?” she asked. Samantha shook her head, looking up. Heather sat down and pulled a basket out from under the table and started pulling things out of it. Samantha watched with interest.

  “Beadwork is important to my people,” she said. “I practice when I want to remember.”

  Samantha watched her arrange a strip of leather in her lap and begin beading it.

  “She is a good girl,” Heather said. Samantha turned to her laptop and smiled.

  “The world is an immense place, at that age.”

  “At any age.”

  “True. But when there are no risks…”

  “Yes. I’ve protected her from pain.” Heather looked up at the door for a moment. “Sometimes, I fear, too well.”

  “It isn’t wrong,” Samantha said. “Well, I don’t think so. She’ll make mistakes, maybe more this way, but the hope and the happiness that come with that kind of fearlessness… Frankly, I’m jealous.”

  “Why did you not go, tonight?”

  “Women scare me,” she said, then put her hand over her mouth. Heather smiled.

  “The truth flies out in between, doesn’t it?”

  Samantha laughed.

  “I’ve always gotten along with guys better. And they can smell fear.”

  “Sometimes my daughter is an unkind animal,” Heather said.

  “My mom used to tell me that empathy is bred from pain.” Samantha closed her laptop. “Why did you retire? Jason and Sam told me not to ask, so if it’s prying...”

  Heather smiled at her beads.

  “I had a fiery temper in past days.”

  “I think you probably still do.”

  Heather smiled wider.

  “I think you are very honest.”

  “It’s a bad habit I picked up a few years ago.”

  “I quit because I couldn’t bear to lose her.”

  Samantha nodded.

  “There’s no shame in wanting to protect your child.”

  Heather rested her hands in her lap and turned her head to watch Samantha openly for a few seconds.

  “The boys’ parents were braver than me. That is to my shame.”

  Samantha rested her head on the arm of the couch where she was lying.

  “I was taught that bravery is overrated,” she said to the ceiling.

  “By the mother who told you that empathy is pain’s daughter?”

  “No. By the mentor who replaced her when she died.” Samantha put her laptop down on the ground and rolled over onto her stomach. “I joined up with Sam and Jason on a whim. I was curious. I knew I wanted to stay with them when Jason insisted on breaking into a house and waiting for a Night Hag before she fed on a child, because of the risk that she might kill the boy. I happen to know that they are much, much testier when they’re hungry. Waiting for her to come out after she fed, she would have been slow, happy, and easy. But it never even occurred to him.”

  “He is as fearless as my daughter,” Heather said. Samantha smiled and turned her head to the side.

  “He is.”

  “Do you love him?” Heather asked.

  “Who?” Samantha asked. Heather smiled.

  “A better question.”

  “
I’ve only known them a couple of weeks. I admire them both, for very different reasons.”

  Heather smiled and rested her hands over the beadwork in her lap, looking down at it.

  “My people have a story about twin boys, split by a ring that fell from heaven. They were great heroes, and involved in the beginnings of our medicine magic. Some say that they are the Sun and the Moon, while others say that one boy drowned and the other died of grief, forming his body into powerful magic that we use for healing. I think of this story when I see Sam and Jason. It is as if they were split from a single soul, and they each took opposite parts.” She looked at Samantha. “It was a good soul. They are good boys.”

  “They kind of are the sun and the moon,” Samantha said.

  “You don’t get sleep, do you?” Heather asked. Samantha opened her mouth, then just shook her head.

  “No.”

  “Go, now, and sleep soundly. I will wait for them to get back.”

  “Would it offend you if I sat up with Sam while he sleeps?”

  “Does he need someone watching over him?” Heather asked.

  “That isn’t my question to answer,” Samantha asked. “I don’t want to disrespect your home.”

  “You do what you think is best. But sleep, tonight.”

  Samantha looked out the window, where the sun’s light was giving way to stars, and she nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  “Good night, dear.”

  <><><>

  “Come in,” Sam called when Samantha knocked on his door the next morning. She opened the door and closed it behind her, and Sam scooted over in the full-sized bed to lay on the side against the wall.

  “I’m not ready to get up yet,” he said. “Come sit with me?”

  She came and sat on the bed and he rolled onto his side.

  “What time did you get in?” she asked

  “Jason didn’t come back with me last night,” he said. “One of Elizabeth’s friends drove me home.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, maybe five this morning?”

  “What did Heather say?”

  He closed his eyes and rolled back onto his back again.

  “I almost didn’t come in. I thought she was going to kill me.”

  “What happened?”

  “She hugged me and she told me to sleep well, and then…” he turned his head to look at Samantha. “She told me to take good care of you. Not to ever hurt you the way Jason is going to hurt Elizabeth, someday.”

  “You think he’ll hurt her?” Samantha asked, sliding down on the bed and laying her head on the pillow. He smiled crookedly.

  “I don’t know. Most girls know what they’re getting into, with him.”

  “Why does he do it, knowing how mad it’s going to make Heather?”

  “He’s never let someone else’s opinion of what he does stop him from doing anything. It’s hard enough to convince him he’s wrong. If he’s convinced he’s right, or at least that he isn’t wrong, he’s going to do it, no matter what.”

  “But she’s sixteen,” Samantha said. Sam laughed.

  “How was the concert?” she asked.

  “Really fun. Huge stadium,” he said. “You should have come.”

  “I had a really good conversation with Heather,” she told him. I’m kind of glad I stayed.” Samantha lay looking up at the ceiling for a minute.

  “I don’t like you being that far away, though,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “It’s like stretching a rubber band. It’s uncomfortable, and when I woke up from a dream and couldn’t remember why I felt that way…”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s messed up and if you want to call it now, I’ll understand,” she said. “Maybe it was a bad idea.”

  “You can go whenever you want,” he said, “but other than today, Jason and I haven’t been in different cities… since I can remember. That’s just our life. I don’t think it should be a big problem.” He settled in to the bed and closed his eyes. “Next time you’ll just have to come with us.”

  She looked over at him and watched him drift off to sleep. After a few minutes her eyelids got heavy, and she drifted away, as well.

  <><><>

  Jason slammed the hood and shook Heather’s hand.

  “Best work in the state,” he said. “As always. Thank you.”

  “Get out of my house,” Heather said. “Be safe.”

  She turned to Sam and pulled him down in a hug. Samantha watched from the back of the Cruiser where she had just loaded her bag and her backpack. She couldn’t hear what the woman said to him.

  “Sam,” Heather said, looking at her, now. Samantha left the side of the SUV and leaned over to hug the woman.

  “You take good care of these boys. Is that clear?”

  Samantha stood and nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said. The woman nodded.

  “Welcome home,” Heather said. Samantha frowned, then nodded.

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  “Load ‘em up,” Jason said, slapping the hood.

  “Where’s Elizabeth?” Samantha asked as she climbed up into the back seat.

  “She never says goodbye,” Sam answered.

  “Hellos are better, anyway,” Jason said. “Where am I headed?”

  “Simon hasn’t got anything solid yet,” Sam said.

  “New York it is,” Jason said, starting the engine. There was a moment of silence as he put the car in gear.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Sam asked.

  “Why would I be? We had a deal. She stays until we don’t have work,” Jason said.

  “I thought we agreed she’s probably be sticking around for a while.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she will be. But in the meantime, we head to New York.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Faith,” Samantha said. “He’s right. If I’m supposed to stay, we won’t make it.”

  Sam turned in his seat to look at her, and she shrugged. He waited for another moment, then shook his head.

  “New York it is. You want to go through Memphis?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why Memphis?” Samantha asked.

  “Ribs. Best rib joint in the country,” Jason said.

  “You pick a route based on what’s there for dinner?” Samantha asked.

  “How would you do it?” Jason asked. Samantha closed her eyes and shook her head, then went digging in the back to get out a notebook.

  “Memphis it is,” she said.

  Samantha had slept in the car for most of the trip. She woke up in time for dinner, and had to admit that Jason hadn’t oversold the ribs. Now the sun was setting and they were back at their motel room, and Sam was in the shower washing off the day’s drive.

  “You’re such a girl, Sam,” Jason had said. “Freshening up after dinner.”

  “I saw a neighborhood that we drove by that had really pretty houses,” Samantha said, now. “I’m going to go look at them.”

  “Giving Sam a run for his money for being the biggest girl here,” Jason said. “Send me a postcard.”

  She laughed and waved. Jason stretched out in the one armchair, flipping channels. Eventually, he went and got the laptop out of Sam’s bag and started surfing the internet with equal listlessness. Sam came back in and sat down on his bed.

  “You ever read a book?” he asked. Jason grunted.

  “I’m too cool for books,” he said.

  “Said the Neanderthal,” Sam said.

  “You’re the one who looks like a Neanderthal with the little bitty paperbacks, all hunched up over them at the table,” Jason said. “Trust me on this. You should buy bigger books.”

  “Because I read books for how it makes me look,” Sam said.

  “Should at least think about it. Maybe you could actually use it to get girls.”

  “At least the kind of girls I could get, reading, would actually be worth getting,” Sam said.

  “Probably
don’t put out, anyway. You can keep them.”

  “How has a woman not disfigured you, yet?” Sam asked. Jason looked over and grinned.

  “It’s because I’m so charming. You just can’t tell.”

  “Yeah, it certainly doesn’t work on me.”

  “It’s not supposed to work on you, you dweeb. I don’t want to get over-sized swamp monsters. I want to get girls.”

  Jason grinned at the computer. When they were fifteen, Sam had already been six foot, and they had gone out trick-or-treating to annoy their uncle. Sam had gone as Swamp Thing, and Jason hadn’t yet quit making fun of him for it.

  “Ha,” Sam said, then flipped over on the bed to rest his chin on his hands.

  “There really isn’t anything on?” he asked. Jason threw him the remote.

  “You’re welcome to check for yourself, but it’s all garbage.”

  “Great. You pre-define anything I might like as garbage.”

  “It’s worked for me, so far,” Jason told him, slouching further in his chair.

  Around midnight, Sam looked up.

  “Where’s Sam?” he asked.

  “She went for an architectural tour,” Jason said, not looking up.

  “It’s really late,” Sam said.

  “She slept all day. She stays up all night,” Jason answered, then jolted up in his seat. “Dude. Dude, I just figured it out.”

  “Figured what out?”

  “She’s a vampire.”

  “What?”

  “No, seriously, think about it. She insists they don’t exist, she sleeps all day, she stays up all night, she’s always wearing those sunglasses, she hates to be in the sun…”

  “She’s not a vampire.”

  “Are you sure?” Jason asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re sure?”

  “Shut up, man. She’s not a vampire.”

  “You’re the one sleeping with her.”

  “I’m not sleeping with her.”

  “Oh yeah? When you wake up in the morning, is she or is she not going to be laying on your bed?”

  “I’m not sleeping with her,” Sam said. “You’re a creep.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  <><><>

  The next morning, Samantha still hadn’t come back. Sam was online with Simon looking for ways to track her down. Simon had checked arrests and the rest of the police reports from the previous evening, and was going through the less obvious ones to see if any of them might have been relevant to Samantha.