by Selina Rosen
Jason was caught in the middle of a giant squeeze, and it seemed that any way things fell, he wasn’t likely to walk away unscathed.
He was running out of time. At any minute James Rank might wake up. He’d tell everyone that Jason was the one that shot him, and that Jason had shot Hammer McVee. They’d guess then that he was a double agent working with Tarent Powers. Every agent in town would be combing the street for him the way they were now looking for Hammer, and he didn’t have Hammer’s connections.
His only chance of coming out of this alive was to find Hammer McVee and finish the job that he had started, return the girl to her father, and then hide under Tarent’s protection.
But first he had to get to James Rank and finish the job he had started there as well.
Chapter 14
Elantra woke to the sound of snoring and the sun in her face, and knew immediately that she wasn’t in PowersTower and who she was with. She felt a sudden elation, which made her want to laugh out loud. She was free! She was free and she was with Conner. In that moment when she wasn’t quite awake, it was easy to forget everything else.
Conner had flopped onto her back during the night, but seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Elantra touched Conner gently on her arm, and was relieved to find that she wasn’t running a temperature. She carefully pulled the covers up over Conner where she had uncovered herself. She was out cold, and Elantra was glad. In the absence of modern medicine, sleep would help her heal as quickly as anything else they could realistically provide.
Burning the living hell out of my baby and then spraying her with tyethel gabardine. What the hell were those idiots thinking? Then as she watched the happy rhythm of Conner’s chest as it rose and fell, she knew that her life was more important than some more scars. They saved her, probably the only way they knew how, and with what little they had. I have to remember where I am.
Elantra smelled food, real food, and she smiled. She could hear Pinky working in the kitchen, and she was suddenly aware of something that should have been painfully obvious last night. Pinky was a Constructionist. The clues had been all around her, the water shower, the aspirin in the cabinet, the doors you had to open and chairs you had to sit in.
Everything was so surreal last night it’s a wonder I was able to think at all. Besides, in the short time I lived with Conner in WrenchTown I got used to all those things. In all the confusion it never dawned on me that I was back.
Elantra wondered if Pinky had introduced Hammer to the cult.
The sound of the sink, the whirl of a mixer, all were music to Elantra’s ears.
She lay there and just watched Conner for a long time, happy to be alive, and even more happy that Conner was alive and there with her. She was painfully aware that her foolishness had almost gotten them both killed.
They weren’t safe yet, and as long as Mishy and her father were after them she wondered if they ever could be. What kind of a life could they possibly have if they were constantly on the run, always looking over their shoulders? She might not know her father as well as she thought she did, but she did know one thing about him. When he wanted something he wasn’t likely to stop until he got it.
And he wanted Conner dead.
Elantra looked at Conner and frowned; she was sure that the rib under the wound was at least cracked. Of course with that purple crap everywhere it was impossible to see if there was any bruising. She began wishing she had the doctor back in WrenchTown’s antiquated x-ray machine.
She wished there was some way she could take Conner to the hospital. At the very least she hoped that they could stay here long enough for Conner to heal, but was afraid even that was probably too much to ask for.
The more she thought about what she had done the night before, the more it seemed like it had been someone else who did it. She had found courage in that moment that she hadn’t known she possessed. She now felt like she was ready for anything they could throw at her. Even if at that moment every muscle in her body hurt and tensed up at the slightest movement.
A thought suddenly hit her like a fist. I shot people last night! I might have even killed them. She tried to reconcile the magnitude of this with the fact that she had just now thought about it, and that try as she might she couldn’t find any guilt to go along with her realization. They would have killed me. They were all trying to kill Conner. It all happened so fast... My father’s a crime lord, a murderer who kills people for profit. If I killed anyone it was because they didn’t leave me much choice. I don’t feel guilty, so why should I pretend at an emotion that I really don’t feel? Conner kills people, killing people doesn’t mean you’re bad. If you’re killing the right people.
Conner had pegged her right at their first meeting when she had called her a building brat, but Elantra wasn’t a building brat anymore. She had taken a long drink of life outside the building, and it had changed her. She had resisted change at first, and then she had embraced it, welcomed it. Now there was no going back.
In that building her imagination had been stifled by machines. In there she had been nothing more than a piece of her father’s life. Someone to marry off to Buddy so that Tarent could join in a lucrative partnership – no doubt in criminal activities – with his family.
Out here Elantra had her own identity, separate from her father, separate even from Conner McVee.
Elantra had been kidnapped from her father’s prison. She’d gone back of her own free will, thinking that there was something that she had left there that was worth having. Now she knew the truth, and she would never go back there again. Not alive anyway.
Conner the Hammer McVee had become a legend among her people, and Elantra knew that she was about to become a legend among hers.
She got up, careful not to disturb Conner, and went to the kitchen where Pinky was busy cooking.
Pinky smiled at Elantra. “How’s she doing?”
“Better, she’s sleeping soundly, and there’s no fever,” Elantra said. She started to sit down and then had an odd thought. “Ah, do you need some help?”
“No, but if you’d like to worship go for it,” Pinky said. “There’s a stack of dishes over there needs doing.”
Elantra walked towards the dishes and looked at them. Pinky seemed to read her mind.
“Have you ever done dishes before, dear?” Pinky asked gently.
“No... I’ve watched Conner do them. It’s water and stuff, and rubbing the dishes,” Elantra said.
“Very good,” Pinky said, flipping a pancake on the grill. “All right then, run the water till it’s hot, then plug up the sink... yes, that’s the thing there. Plug the sink and add some soap. I start doing the dishes right away, rinsing in the water as it comes in the sink. That saves water.”
It wasn’t very hard, and Elantra felt good working. She and Pinky made idle chatter till Elantra finished the dishes. She wiped her pruney hands and sat at the table. Pinky set a plate of pancakes in front of her, and she poured syrup on them and started to eat. Pinky joined her.
“I think it’s better to let Hammer sleep, don’t you?” Pinky asked.
Elantra nodded. “She can eat when she gets up.” She stopped eating for a minute and looked up. “Pinky... do you think we’ll be able to stay here till Conner heals?”
“That’s a good question,” Pinky said morosely. “I would hope so, but... I heard from one of my kids on the street that your old man doesn’t want you dead anymore, but he’s doubled the price on Hammer’s head to four million dollars. For that sort of money... I don’t know too many people who will remain loyal when that sort of cash is hanging in the balance. Right now, as far as we know, only the three of us know Hammer’s here, but... someone might have seen you come here. We can’t be sure, and then there is all that money. People are going to start thinking. They know that Hammer and I have been friends a long time. They could put two and two together. I just don’t know, and then there’s the other problem.”
Elantra sighed. “I’m not sure I wa
nt to hear that there is another problem, but maybe I’d better anyway.”
“Well... it seems the cops had a reason for going after Hammer last night. Word on the street is that Hammer’s clearance has been revoked and she’s been accused of shooting her boss, James Rank,” Pinky said.
Elantra didn’t know whether Conner had shot Rank or not. She didn’t really care. If Conner had shot him, she no doubt had a damn good reason to, except... “I wonder when she had time to do that.”
“I didn’t shoot Rank,” Conner’s voice made Elantra jump. Conner walked in, limping slightly and sat down at the table carefully. Elantra leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, just because she could, and Conner smiled at her, and then frowned. “Why the hell would they think I shot Rank?”
“He was shot with a nail gun,” Pinky said quietly.
“If I had shot him, he’d be dead,” Conner said taking the cup of coffee Pinky slid towards her. “Someone wanted it to look like I shot him. Now who would that be.... that fucking weasel, Jason Hunter. The same scum sucking shit muncher that shot me,” Conner hissed. “Rank must have told Hunter that I called and what I told him. It’s almost brilliant. Jason’s been working for Tarent Powers and Brakston Agency at the same time, which isn’t legal in any way, shape or form. He shoots me, but he doesn’t kill me. I tell Rank, I even threaten him if he sent Hunter after me.” She looked thoughtful. “So Jason buys a nail gun and shoots Rank. With Rank dead, no one knows that he shot me, and no one will be able to figure out that he works for Tarent Powers. With me framed for the shooting he’s successfully put me on all the agency hit lists as well.” She took a sip of the coffee and made a face. “That’s how Tarent has stayed ahead of the law all these years. He’s probably got guys inside all the big agencies. These guys aren’t just on the take. They’re on his payroll. Although I’ve suspected as much, I’ve never been able to prove anything. These guys are slick. Of course, in a computerized push-button society it isn’t too hard to escape detection.”
“Amen, sister,” Pinky said, and Elantra couldn’t tell if she was kidding or sincere.
“Of course, I still feel like a grade-A number one idiot for working with this bastard all these years and not knowing he was working for Tarent. Hey, Pinky! Where are my pancakes?”
Pinky got up and came back with a platefull, and set them in front of her. She started eating, making little pleasant noises as they disappeared down her throat.
“What are we going to do?” Elantra asked gently.
Conner swallowed before answering. “Well, a lot of that depends on whether Rank is still alive or not,” Conner said.
“They said he was hanging on, but in a coma,” Pinky offered.
Conner frowned. “If he dies it will be damn hard to prove I didn’t shoot him.”
It had been years since Tarent Powers had actually been on the streets. Today was no different. He paced his office as reports came back from his boys cruising SlumTown looking for any sign of Hammer McVee or his daughter. But people in SlumTown were normally tight-lipped, and with the cops everywhere roughing them up, they’d die before they gave anything up. Slummers weren’t as weird as Constructionists, but they were just as freewilled and hardheaded. He had hoped that the promise of huge amounts of money would loosen their tongues as it normally did, but word had gotten around that Hammer had been knocking off some of his top men for the better part of a week now, and if any of them knew where she was, they weren’t in any hurry to incur the wrath of the infamous Hammer McVee. The fact that she had apparently shot her boss at the agency only proved to them that she had already been pushed over the edge.
When he first heard that Hammer McVee had shot James Rank he had been a little shocked, but after seeing the evidence he was fairly sure that Hammer didn’t have anything to do with it. First off their case was just too good. Second off he’d seen what bodies looked like after they’d been hit with Hammer’s nail gun. Heads exploded, legs were shattered, and James Rank was still alive. If Hammer meant for him to be dead, he had no doubt the man would be dead.
The only answer was that someone was trying to frame Hammer McVee. He had a good idea that it was his boy Jason Hunter. Of course, knowing that the cops were doing nothing but making it harder for Tarent to find his daughter, Jason wasn’t likely to confess to Tarent any time soon. He would have done it to save his own ass, and if and when Tarent found out for certain that Jason had done it, he was going to take that boy out of the game. Tarent didn’t need anyone working for him that wasn’t a team player.
Of course there was one more suspect, Mishy. Mishy wanted Hammer and Elantra dead. Mostly he wanted Tarent dead. Siccing the cops on Hammer McVee would leave Mishy free to pursue Tarent, and only Tarent. Meanwhile, every available man Tarent could spare was on the streets looking for Elantra and Hammer, their efforts muddled by cops everywhere doing the same thing. Tarent was feeling increasingly vulnerable, and for the first time in his life completely without any real game plan.
He was frightened and confused.
For a second last night he had thought that he wanted Elantra dead, but as soon as he realized that Mishy’s goons had started firing on them both, he knew it wasn’t what he wanted. Elantra was his, his blood; she belonged to him. He had to keep and protect her, or lose face forever with his business associates and his enemies.
Elantra was a disobedient, defiant brat, but she was his disobedient, defiant brat, and if he wanted to kill her that was one thing, but no one else had better try it. He was glad that his rash words hadn’t caused her death, and he was determined not to let Hammer McVee keep her or let the cops or Mishy kill her.
Squat’s face filled his screen. “I’m telling you, boss. It’s like they just disappeared.”
“Well keep looking! Ask around, find out who Hammer’s contacts are. She’s a police agent for God’s sake! There have got to be people in SlumTown that hate the bitch!”
“Problem is them what’s hate her is afraid of her,” Squat explained.
“Then you make them more afraid of you, Squat! They are street scum. Intimidate the hell out of the little bastards,” Tarent said.
“Boss, lots ah these guys... they work for Mishy. Even if they wanted to, they ain’t gonna tell us nothin’.”
“So now we’re afraid of Mishy’s street thugs!” Tarent screamed. “I am Tarent Powers. Do you hear me? I’m Tarent Powers! I’m not afraid of Hammer McVee, I’m not afraid of Mishy or his inbred minions. I’m asking you for simple things, Squat. A few simple things. Kill Mishy. Kill Hammer McVee. Bring my daughter home in one piece! Now... is that too much to ask for?”
“No sir, boss,” Squat answered.
“Then quit talking to me and get your ass back to work. Transmission closed.”
Squat and Dacker looked at the blank screen on their consol and then each other.
“This fucking sucks,” Squat said. Dacker nodded. “Tell me again why we put up with this shit? We ain’t rich, we don’t get any respect, hell, I can’t remember the last time I had any pussy.”
“We do it so the boss don’ kill us,” Dacker reminded.
“Big deal! When’s the last time he killed someone? Hell, he killed his old lady, that’s it. Right now I ain’t as afraid of him as I am Hammer McVee, or Mishy, or even his fucking daughter.” He rubbed at his side. “That little bitch stuck me good. I should be laid up in the hospital healin’ for a few days, but oh no, it’s run the doctor in, have him glue the fucker together, slap a bandage on it and then boom!, I’m back at work. I say screw it.”
“What are you gettin’ at, Squat?” Dacker asked.
“You owe Tarent Powers one damn thing?”
Dacker thought about it for a minute, and smiled. “I don’t reckon as I do. What you got in mind?”
“Well... you an me been pickin’ up the money from his drops for years now...”
“We could give up all this lookin’ for a quick ride to the morgue, go make our usual pickups...”
“If he ever did,” Dacker laughed.
“We’d be so far away he’d never find us,” Squat finished. “So... what do you say? We wouldn’t be rich, but we ain’t rich now. We might have ta get real jobs, but hey! at least it won’t be shit like track down this psychopathic cyborg and get your ass nailed to a wall.”
“Let’s pick up the loot and get the hell out of here,” Dacker said. “I’m beginning to agree with all this scum around here. I’d rather be poor than dead.”
Suddenly Squat started laughing.
“What’s so damn funny?” Dacker asked, no doubt fearing a double cross.
“Calm down,” Squat slapped him on the back. “I think I just figured out how we can get rich and stay alive.”
“How’s that?” Dacker asked.
Squat didn’t get to answer. A red light started flashing on the dashboard. “What the hell is that?”
Tarent watched his screen as the interior of the car seemed to be sucked into a vacuum with the two men in the car, and then the screen went blank.
“You can’t get good help these days,” he mumbled. “Computer, switch to Fred and Gorge’s car.”
“Hey boss!” Gorge said, rubbing at his neck, obviously uncomfortable.
“You’re behind Squat and Dacker’s car, aren’t you?”
“Well yes, boss... Something happened... something bad...”
