by Joss Ware
“Thought I saw a spider,” Theo said, then wondered why he’d bothered. “There on the floor.” His mouth seemed to be working all on its own.
Selena squeaked and stiffened, doing a little dance, and said, “Did you? Don’t kill it!”
Hiding a smile, Theo replied, “No, I was mistaken.”
“Good,” she said briskly, all in control again. He had to fight even harder to control the smile at her lightning-quick change. “I don’t like spiders, but there’s no need to kill them. Just put ’em outside.”
Vonnie spoke up: “That’s not all you’re going to eat.”
“That’s all I need,” Selena said, gesturing with the peeled orange that now had three sections taken out of it. “Gotta go check on some things.”
And before either of them could say anything else, she streaked from the kitchen in the same direction that Theo had come from.
“That girl,” Vonnie said, shaking her head, “doesn’t eat enough to feed a bird.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s wasting away,” Theo commented, wishing again that he could see how her rear filled out those jeans. But the tunic was too long and she’d zipped away before he had the chance to try.
And it occurred to him that he was surprised that he was actually interested in trying.
It had been a long time since he’d been interested in the shape of any woman besides a shy, curvy redhead with the freckle on her lip. Theo’s stomach tightened as he pushed the thought away.
It was over. Done. She hadn’t wanted him.
“No, Selena’s not wasting away,” the older woman said. “But she’s very picky. Won’t eat much of anything. No meat, hardly any cheese or milk. Just vegetables and fruit. Nuts and seeds. Like a little bird. Always been that way.”
That probably explained her tight, slender body. Theo shrugged mentally, wondering how they’d come to be talking about Selena’s eating habits. “What about Sam’s father?”
Vonnie looked sharply at him, acknowledging his curiosity. “He’s not in the picture anymore. Good riddance, if you ask me.”
Well, that was good. He guessed. “How long have you known Selena?”
“Since she was a tiny baby,” Vonnie replied. “I found her. In the middle of it all.”
Those words settled over Theo like a cool blanket. “In the middle of . . . ?”
For the first time since he’d come into the room, she actually stopped, positioning herself there in front of him at the counter. “In the middle of the Change. She could only have been a couple days old. It was a miracle that she survived. A little tiny mite with a head of dark hair, hardly bigger than a kitten. She was completely alone.”
A wave of thoughts assaulted him like a wave of video missiles, but one zoomed to the front of his mind and sat there: Holy shit. Selena’s fifty? No effing way!
Vonnie had gone back to her efficient if not overly enthusiastic ways by the time Theo formed a reasonable comment. “You were a child yourself.” It was true. She couldn’t be more than sixty, at the outside.
She tossed him a beaming smile. “How nice of you to say, Theo. I was eleven years old. And somehow . . . well, somehow we muddled through. We managed to live. I found diapers and figured out how to open bottles of formula. We lived in an old Wal— An old store. It really was a miracle, when you think about it. I had a little bit of a guiding spirit to help. I called her my guardian angel.”
Just then, the bang of the rear door being whipped open, followed by a vehement round of cussing, heralded the reappearance of Frank.
“What’s wrong now?” asked Vonnie with that same tone of annoyed affection Theo’s mom used to have when his father came in from the garage—or from whatever home improvement project he was working on—in a similar mood.
“Damned electric fence around the vegetables is shorted out again or something,” Frank grumbled. “Came in to find something to fix it with.”
Theo was standing up before he quite realized it—that had been happening quite a bit since he’d awakened from this most recent death: his body taking over for him, his mouth saying things he hadn’t planned on saying. Maybe something else had happened when Selena had brought him back to life. “I might be able to help,” he said.
Frank cast him a sidewise look laced with suspicion. “Well, come on,” he snapped. “Ain’t got all day. Let’s take a look at it.”
For some reason, Theo felt the same rush of satisfaction he’d had when he got hired for his first job, at age fifteen, pushing shopping carts at the grocery store.
Outside, Theo followed the elderly man, who walked faster and with more surety than most people he knew. They’d exited from the back door of the kitchen and were walking across a large expanse of grass.
This was the first look Theo had of the place, and he found himself trying to figure out what it had been before the Change. The building from which they’d just emerged was a large house; not quite a mansion, but a good-sized single-family residence built in a hacienda style.
The house was made of stucco, which was probably why it was still standing, and its architecture had a southwestern feel to it: long, low, three or four stories high like a hacienda, with deep eaves to help keep the sun from blasting through the windows.
Right away Theo noticed a large fence running in front of the house and off into the distance. Made of brick, and stretching as far as he could see up and around the curve of the yard, it stood perhaps ten feet tall. Broken and crumbling in places, the barrier had nevertheless been maintained enough to keep the gangas out.
He wondered how the ones that had attacked Selena had gotten in . . . or whether she’d gone out; if there was a vulnerable place out of sight, among the trees and bushes that grew on the parklike grounds. A wrought iron gate still hung in place at what had clearly been the entrance to . . . whatever this was. A large ranch? An estate of some sort?
And what was that peeking up over the trees? A Ferris wheel?
Mystified, Theo paused, stared, trying to see if his eyes were deceiving him. It sure as hell looked like one.
“Well, come on,” ordered Frank, breaking into his thoughts. “Time’s wastin’.”
“What is this place?” Theo asked, hustling to keep up with the elderly man. They walked around the back of the house, passing what had once been a five-car garage.
Behind that, he saw a barn where a slew of fenced-in chickens ran around and two cows nibbled on grass. And then he saw the garden.
Garden was an understatement. “You’ve got one heck of a green thumb,” Theo said, looking at about ten rows of corn in various stages of growth and a variety of other plants that he wasn’t certain he could identify. Tomatoes and peppers, for sure. Are those carrots with the bushy tops? And the viny things on the ground might be cucumbers. Or pumpkins.
There had to be about two-acres worth of produce growing there. And all was enclosed by a cobbled-together fence that looked as piecemeal as the new Internet he and Lou had built. The fence had wires of different thicknesses and lengths, wooden and plastic posts, and a few concrete ones as well. Even an old car on its side in one place.
“Wow,” Theo said. “You take care of all this yourself?”
Frank looked at him, frowning. “Don’t get smart, young man. It used to be bigger, but I can’t keep up with it like I used to. Damn kids’re always running off to Yellow Mountain or over to the ruins when I want’m to help.”
Theo thought about trying to explain what he meant, but the old man shuffled off at top speed, grumbling about teenagers never changing. He followed him to the corner of the fence where the fuse box had been installed.
“Keeps shorting out on me,” Frank said, jabbing at it with a large-knuckled hand. “Can’t see the wires like I used to either, dammit. Sun’s too bright.”
Theo crouched next to the fuse box and examined the wiring. Although his forte was with integrated circuits and motherboards, he’d cut his electronic teeth, so to speak, on everything from the electr
ic garage door opener to the family can opener to his mother’s sewing machine. That hadn’t gone over well when he was nine, but since Mom really didn’t use it all that often, she got over it.
He and Lou used to have races to see who could rebuild something faster, or even better. They eventually graduated to computer electronics by the time they were in middle school, much to their parents’ relief. He didn’t think they’d ever known about the hacking contests he and Lou had had, though. Or the time Theo had rewired and souped up an old riding lawn mower’s engine. He’d crashed it into a ditch when he’d tried to jump it over a lit gas grill.
“Who did this?” Theo asked, admiring the neat, organized—if not simple—work that included solar panels arranged to generate the electric charge. Someone knew what they were doing but from the looks of it, years or even a decade had passed since the original job.
“No one else could figure it out, so I fixed it up,” Frank said with a defensive note in his voice. “Used to be a mechanic.”
“Wow,” Theo said again. Seemed like this man could do just about anything. “Do you have wire cutters? I think I see the problem.” And he could understand why Frank couldn’t fix it; the kinked wire was down in the corner, difficult for Theo to see.
Frank handed him the tool without any further comment; and while Theo worked, the old man walked through a swinging gate and began to weed a row of some faintly familiar plant. Its smell wafted on the warm air and Theo recognized the fresh scent of cilantro.
“Got it,” he said with a grunt of satisfaction. “Watch out—I’m going to try it.” Theo flipped the switch and heard the faint hum of power, then watched as Frank tested out the fence.
A sharp sizzle sounded, followed by a faint smoky smell, and the old man actually cracked a smile. “Damn good charge there, young man. Stronger than before. Don’t know how you did it, but good job.”
Theo, of course, didn’t mention that he had the ability to create his own electric charge, thanks to the embedded IC in the back of his hip. It exhausted him to channel and use the electric surge, so it was a skill best saved for compelling situations. Like being trapped in a mall by a few dozen gangas and using the power to turn on a tanning bed as a barrier. He smiled to himself. They certainly had gotten his juices flowing, to so speak.
“So what is this place?” Theo asked again, walking into the garden and crouching in the row opposite Frank. Strawberries. Red and juicy and sweet, warmed by the sun. He picked one and popped it into his mouth.
“What the hell you talking about?” Frank asked, squinting in the light despite his cap.
“I mean this house and yard . . . what was it before the Change? It looks like some big ranch. Is that a Ferris wheel over there?” Theo was suddenly touched with the urge to explore the grounds. A frigging Ferris wheel, for pity’s sake. There’d been a roller coaster in Envy—the one that had been part of New York-New York in Vegas, but it had been destroyed during the Change.
Frank had already weeded half the line of cilantro, and Theo was still working on the stubborn plants littering the strawberry row. Hell, this man put him to shame. He was a freaking machine. “What?” Frank called, barely looking up.
Theo repeated his question, moving closer to the old man. He glanced over his shoulder, back at the house. The main gate seemed to have letters on it; and from his perspective—he was seeing them backward—half of them were missing. But he could make out a prominent B and perhaps a P, or maybe an R.
“Big damn ranch belonged to a famous guy, back before. More goddamn space than he knew what to do with; had to have an amusement park put in like that damn guy with the glove. Jackson.”
Theo frowned, something niggling in the back of his mind. “Do you remember the guy’s name?”
Frank looked up at him, annoyance creasing his face. “Of course I remember his damn name. I used to work for him. Took care of all the vehicles here. What the hell is that on your arm?”
Theo looked down and saw that Frank was glaring at the red dragon on his wrist and arm. “A tattoo,” he replied, not sure what else to say as it was pretty obvious what it was. He didn’t mention that her name was Scarlett.
Nor did he mention the other one, on his back. About three years after the Change, he’d had one of his fellow survivors—a woman whose body was clothed in tattoos—create the blue dragon whose eye was the little metal chip. Scarlett, who curled along his arm and around his right wrist, had been done when he was in college, and it seemed only fitting that he have matching ink to commemorate the change in his body and the superpower it brought him. Lou had made a smartass comment about him also getting a big E tattooed on his chest instead—and walked around calling him Electric Man for months.
“Brad Blizek,” Frank grunted, and turned to shuffle off toward the tomato plants.
Theo nearly fell back on his ass. Brad Blizek? This was Brad Blizek’s place? He fairly leapt to his feet, turning to look full at the house and then around him, turning in a slow circle.
Brad Blizek had been the Steve Jobs of Theo and Lou’s generation. In fact, Jobs had mentored the man when he was younger and interned with him at Apple. But then Blizek had gone on to work with video-game guru John Carmack, and then went on to create his own games company, UniZek, which was the first to introduce ray tracing into video games.
Independently wealthy by the age of thirty, Blizek was a self-proclaimed geek who not only attended every comics or sci-fi convention he could, but also even held his own—on his private ranch and retreat in southern Utah called, ironically, Blizek Beach. Because, of course, there was no beach in sight. Only low green and purple mountains.
Which was where, which had to be where, Theo now stood. Weeding strawberries.
Holy crap.
He looked back at the house. Was it possible some of Blizek’s computers and systems were still here? Possibly workable? His mouth fairly salivated at the thought.
“Well, hi there.”
Theo turned to find a young woman standing behind him. He rose to his feet, noticing long, tanned legs in very short shorts and a white button-down shirt that strained over a pair of great breasts. Light brown hair brushed her shoulders and curled in thick waves behind her ears.
“Hi, yourself,” he replied, unable to help scanning over her again. Wow. They sure grew them hot here at Blizek Beach. Wonder Woman or Xena in the flesh: all curves, all the time.
“You’re new around here,” she said, and they both laughed. Hers was light and airy. “I’m Jen.”
“Theo,” he said, and glanced down to look at her feet. She wore sandals and some sexy bracelet around her ankle. Jen looked to be in her mid-twenties, which technically put her about fifty years younger than Theo. But who was counting? She certainly wasn’t. Not the way she was looking at him.
“Where did you come from?” Jen asked, bending over to pick a strawberry.
Theo wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not, but she bent away from him and he got a very nice view of her round behind; perhaps a little too much of a view to be strictly proper because those shorts were really short. He held back a smile. Not that he was complaining.
After all . . .
It hit him then, like the proverbial ton of bricks: he could look; he could appreciate and flirt. He could do a hell of a lot more than that now, couldn’t he?—and without feeling guilty as if he were betraying Sage.
Because she hadn’t chosen him. And there was no chance of them ever being together.
Not that there’d ever been anything to betray. At least, as far as she was concerned. But he’d been—hell, he supposed he still was—in love with her. And when that happened, there was no one else.
But now he was free to consider—and appreciate—other opportunities.
With that thought settling firmly in his mind, even as he tried to ignore the empty scraping in his chest, Theo tested out a warm smile on Jen. “I’m from Envy, and I’m not quite sure how I got here. I just know Sam brought me to Selena
.”
Jen’s eyes traveled over him and back up. “Well, you don’t look too sick to me.” She smiled and . . . Sheesh, was that a little flicker of tongue over her top lip? Just enough to get his attention, but not enough to be crude. “You look just fine. To me.”
Theo met her eyes just long enough to let her know he read her loud and clear, then pulled his gaze away. It still felt odd, but he’d get over it. In fact, maybe this was exactly what he needed. A little diversion.
Then her eyes widened in horror and she clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh. Oh no. Are you . . . do you know one of Selena’s patients?” She looked as if she’d just walked into a pile of something messy. “Like . . . is someone you know dying?”
“No,” Theo replied, trying to hide a smile. “I don’t know anyone here.”
She frowned, and he didn’t think it was wholly because of the sun in her eyes. “So you were here to see Selena? Or Cath? I mean. You don’t look like you’re dying. Are you? I mean . . .” She gave up and sort of shrugged. “People only see Selena when they’re dying.”
For some reason, Theo didn’t want to say that he’d just been brought back to life. Might put a damper on things if the girl thought he’d been dead. Unless she was into those vampire books that had been all the rage back before, and undeadness didn’t bother her. The ones in which the guy looked about her age but was really a hundred and twenty years old.
Kinda like him.
“I’m perfectly healthy,” he replied.
“You sure look like it,” she said, perhaps unaware that she’d just made the same observation moments earlier. “That’s a bang-ass tattoo on your arm.”
Theo smiled back and let a little heat into his gaze. It felt good. It had been a long while since he’d done that. “Her name is Scarlett. I’ve got a blue one on my back I call Rhett.”
Jen looked at him blankly.
“You gonna stand around all day, or you gonna do your job?”
Theo and Jen turned to see Frank standing there, holding a clump of weeds dripping dirt from their roots.
