Cole laughed and scooped the controller up from the floor. He only meant to test that it wasn’t broken, but quickly found himself entering back into the digital fray. “Maybe I will give her another call. She’s nice.”
“And fine as hell.”
“Don’t let H.R. hear you say that, but yeah, she’s hot.”
“All right, then. Take a week off. Rest up and then come back to work so you can tell me about what Nora wore on your date. Feel free to be as graphic as you’d like.” Looking around as if he truly feared an H.R. bug on the wall, Jason added, “But that’s just a friend talking.”
Cole knew it was true, that Jason was speaking as more than just a boss trying to put an employee at ease. Jason had always been a good friend. In fact, he was the sort of guy who couldn’t be a prick if his life depended on it. That was a great quality for a person, but not for the head of a growing company. Fortunately, Digital Dreamers had more than enough professional pricks to make up for Jason’s good nature.
“Since I’m being forced away from here,” Cole said, “maybe I could do more than just sit around my apartment and try to get my hands under Nora’s blouse.”
“What more do you need? What more would anyone need?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure you do,” Jason replied as he picked up a controller for himself. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have said anything.”
“Maybe I can get away and do something exciting. After putting together so many games, I’ve been thinking I could do an even better job if I had something real to draw from.”
Jason glanced at Cole just long enough for his character to get blindsided by a hulking swordsman wearing glowing armor. “You mean something more than those trips to the firing range or those ninja classes? Were those even real, or just semiclever ways to get some research money?”
“I still go to the firing range,” Cole replied, “and those classes were real.” After inputting a specific sequence of button presses, his avatar reached over his shoulder and drew a new, impossibly big, weapon from an undersized holster. The weapon was a spear with a grip that wrapped around both of the warrior’s fists. The upper end narrowed into a gleaming point, while the lower end forked open, which came in handy to block an incoming blow from one of the game’s demons. “I just put that weapon in. Pretty cool, huh?”
Jason didn’t reply. He was too busy glaring intently at Cole.
Finally, Cole buckled. “All right. I went to two of those ninja classes before I quit. Too much jumping. I only paid for a month of lessons anyway.”
“Consider it my contribution for this vacation you need so badly. Although I don’t think you’ll find a getaway advertised anywhere that’d put you close to the sorts of things you put in your games.”
“Not even on the Internet?”
Without taking his eyes from the screen, Jason shook his head. “Not even on the Internet.”
“What about one of those extreme vacations?”
“Jesus, Cole. Didn’t they stop doing that kind of crap ten years ago? If you want to snowboard, just do it.”
“Not snowboarding. Something better than that. Like a hunting trip.”
“Hunting? When have you ever hunted?”
“Never.”
“Then what made you think of it?”
Cole paused so he could skewer the last enemy on the screen with a flourishing combination. He then walked his character over to Jason’s guy and stabbed him in the gut.
“You’re fired,” Jason replied in a monotone. “Clean out your desk.”
Ignoring his boss, Cole said, “I got an e-mail a while ago about some kind of hunting trip in Canada. It’d be pushing it, but I should be able to get a seat on that plane before they’re all booked up. Firing some rifles and crawling around outside would be great research for when I start in on Sniper Ranger 4 next month.”
Jason shook his head and let out a breath. “Seems more like a lame attempt to get Digital Dreamers to pay for your vacation.”
“Was it that lame?”
“Yeah.”
“Whatever. That hunting trip in Canada is short a man. It’s so cheap it’s almost free, and I’ve even got my own gun.”
That caught Jason’s attention. “Should I be worried by that?”
Cole did his best to scowl, but didn’t need a mirror to know he wasn’t pulling it off. Aborting his attempt at intimidation, he said, “My dad took me out a few times and left a rifle at my place last winter. I don’t know what kind it is, but it should be all right for hunting.”
“You really don’t know how to hunt, do you?”
“Sort of. Well…”
Chuckling even harder, Jason set down his controller and leaned back into his chair. “Personally, I just wish I could be there to see you on a trip with a bunch of gun freaks.”
“Hunters, Jason. They’re hunters.”
“It sounds like a good deal. Just promise me to take plenty of pictures and some video when you shoot yourself in the foot. I want to post it on our website.”
Rather than try to stick up for himself, Cole said, “The plane leaves the day after tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that short notice?”
“That’s why the tickets are so cheap, moron.”
Rather than trade any more insults with Cole, Jason said, “Take your vacation. Since you decided to pick up and leave this close to deadline, you get to apologize to all the websites and gaming magazines for the delays.”
Cole got up and tossed his controller onto the chair he’d just vacated. “Or I could refrain from telling H.R. about how much you admire Nora’s—”
“Go!”
Cole’s apartment was on the fourth floor of a beige, stucco building on Yale Avenue. He didn’t think it was quite worth as much as he paid to live there, but the owners were doing their best to give the place a better image. Mostly, that consisted of spending money to print newsletters convincing tenants that the chipped paint was stylish, rather than just repainting the damn walls.
The apartment had acquired an even more rumpled appearance once he put his own things into it. A new couch and recliner sat amid a coffee table and lamps that had been with him since high school. His bed was fairly new, but the dining room table and chairs had come along with him after he moved out of his parents’ home in Yakima. Of course, like anyone else in his line of work, the television and entertainment center were top of the line and got upgraded whenever he received a bonus, or simply couldn’t control himself while walking through one of the many electronics stores he frequented.
For the most part, Cole could relax in his apartment. At the moment, however, the main thing on his mind was getting out from within those walls, even if he had to scrape and claw to do so.
“This is a nice place, Cole,” Nora said as she wandered through the one-bedroom dwelling. “Kind of a mess, though.” She was a nice person and a good friend. Any man with functioning senses would readily admit that she was appealing to every last one of them. Her voice was soft. Her hair and skin were smooth. Her touch was gentle. Her curves were nicely proportioned. She even liked to play video games, which was a bonus if not absolutely necessary. All in all, Nora should have been everything he was looking for in a woman. The real mystery was why having her in his apartment made him want to bolt for the street.
Cole looked up from the bag he was packing just long enough to glance around. The apartment wasn’t in the best shape, but it had sure looked worse. “Messy? What do you mean?”
But Nora wasn’t biting. She lowered her chin and looked at him over the top of her glasses in a way that had made nearly every man in the Digital Dreamers offices melt at one time or another. “Where should I start?” she asked. “How about the fact that you invited me over just so I could watch you throw clothes into that old duffel bag?” Suddenly, her eyes widened and she clapped her hands together. “Are we going somewhere for the weekend?”
“Actually, I’m the one that’s going away. J
ust me.”
The disappointment in her eyes wasn’t obvious, but it was there for anyone looking closely enough to see it. “Oh.”
“I asked you over as a way to…wrap things up.”
“Oh,” she said in a more somber tone.
Cole tossed the last pair of socks into his bag and walked over to her. Nora was almost as tall as him, which put her well above an average woman’s height. Straight, dark blond hair hung past her shoulders, and perfectly even bangs made a straight line over her eyes. Her glasses had quirky plastic frames and lenses that were too thick to be mistaken for a fashionable attempt to look smarter. She always wore skirts to accentuate her shapely legs, but never wore tight blouses or sweaters.
The moment Cole stepped up to her, he could feel Nora moving closer to him. He placed his hands on her hips, and in response she reached up and slipped her hands around the back of his neck.
Doing his best to ignore the instincts raging inside of him, Cole said, “Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to be here.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”
Her muscles tensed and the softness in her expression faded a bit. “Does this mean you’re breaking up with me?”
“Come on, Nora. We really haven’t been together for long.”
“I know,” she said while letting out a breath and taking a step back. “It’s just that I was afraid this might happen from the first moment I thought about approaching you.”
“You were going to approach me?”
She nodded with a hint of embarrassment. “I hung back because we work together and that can always get weird. But, we don’t really get out and meet people anywhere else. At least, I don’t.”
“I don’t either,” Cole quickly added.
“Then why break up?”
“Because I’m going on this trip to clear my head. The way things have been going, I’d like to wipe everything away and start over.”
“Reboot the ol’ system, huh?”
It was just that sort of geek-talk that had captured his heart. That, and how good she looked in her short skirts and button-down blouses while playing the newest build of Zombie House 6.
“You could put it that way,” Cole said. “I didn’t think it would be fair for me to string you along, take off to reboot and then expect you to wait for me like some dutiful wife from an old war movie.”
Nora smiled and closed some of the distance she’d created with the backward step she’d taken. “One, you’re not going to war. And two, there isn’t a man alive who could turn me into a stereotype. Most guys would catch hell just for lumping me into that category, and technically, I should hurt you for including me with everything else that’s just supposed to be wiped away.”
“Sorry about that. I just—”
“You just talk a few steps ahead of your brain, Cole. I know that. You’re also not most men.” She pressed herself against him and whispered into his ear, “I think it’s cute that you brought me over here to get one more bit of lovin’ before you take off on your manly Canadian guy-fest.” Smirking at the bit of surprise she saw in his face, Nora added, “But you’re right. We’re not hitched, and there’ll be time to see where we stand when you get back. For now, why don’t I send you off in style, soldier?”
Cole nodded and kissed her. Nora’s lips tasted like strawberries, and the skin under her sweater was even smoother than it looked.
Chapter 2
Two days later
1,000 feet over Kunaklini Glacier
British Columbia
The twin engine prop plane rattled around Cole’s body as another wave of turbulence struck it like an invisible boot. High winds blew in from Silverthrone Mountain, raking along the desolate, snow-covered expanse to beat against the aircraft’s hull like a set of iron claws. The sounds echoed within the metal tube, which only had exposed bolts and rusted brackets where seats should have been. Fortunately, he was wrapped up in enough thick layers of wool, down, and other winter gear that he could barely feel the jagged points sticking up from the floor.
Although blue skies could be seen through the frosted, oval porthole windows, it was difficult to say where the plane was in relation to the ground. The barren fields of ragged white could just as easily have been fifty or fifteen hundred feet below. Cole winced and quickly rubbed his hands together; playing off his reaction as if it had been caused by the cold, and not to the ever-present fear of plummeting to his death.
He looked toward the front of the plane, expecting to find the pilot fighting with the controls. The skinny man behind the wheel seemed more concerned with adjusting his headphones, which didn’t make Cole feel any better about his prospects for surviving the trip. The other five passengers didn’t have much else to offer him either. At the back of the plane were a pair of young guys from UCLA who’d spent the choppiest sections of the flight going through the motions of convincing each other they’d been through a lot worse. While they might have been fooling each other, they were obviously petrified, and that made Cole feel better. Misery might love company, but it sure as hell didn’t love being the biggest loser in the pack.
Just then a voice fought to be heard above the roar of the propellers. “Hey, man. You all right?”
“I’m just freaking great,” Cole screamed to the guy directly across from him. “How about you?”
“Not too bad. You fly much?” Like Cole, he was sitting on a rough patch of steel floor where a seat had once been.
“Sure I do, but this is more like being inside a tin can with wings.” The plane trembled then, causing every screw in the fuselage to cry for mercy. Cole gritted his teeth, forced a smile and added, “This thing does still have wings, doesn’t it?”
The other man looked through a plate-sized window and nodded. “We’re still good. My name’s Brad, by the way.” He was a skinny guy with sunken features and wire-rimmed glasses held in place by an elastic strap looping around the back of his head. Thick, curly, dark brown hair poked out from a dark blue stocking cap. His smile wasn’t affected by the turbulence or anything else around him, and it never seemed forced.
Cole extended a hand wrapped up in an old pair of skiing gloves. “I’m Cole.”
After peeling off his own glove, Brad shook his hand. There was strength in Brad’s grip, which was more than a little surprising, considering it came from a man who seemed to be outweighed by the winter gear he wore. Cole couldn’t help but notice the fresh scars on the palms of Brad’s hands. “What’re you doing out here, Cole?”
“I signed up for one of those extreme vacations.”
Cole’s voice carried farther than he’d thought because those last two words elicited a round of shouts and fist pumps from the college kids at the back of the plane.
Brad nodded to the frat boys and then rolled his eyes to Cole. “Please tell me you’re not with them.”
“I might be. Actually, they’re probably why my tickets were so cheap. What happened to your hands?”
Twisting his hand so he could look at his palm, Brad glanced at the scars for an instant before pulling on his glove. “Burned it while fixing my motorcycle.”
The college kids were either motorcycle owners themselves or just generally enthusiastic, because they let out another round of noise.
Brad ignored the hollers from the back of the plane, lowered his voice and said, “Look at it this way, Cole. Those jocks back there will probably wind up passed out in a snow-bank twenty minutes after we land.”
“They’ll probably wind up dead,” grumbled an older man sitting next to Brad.
Cole had noticed the grizzled man before but had almost forgotten about him. He wore less gear than Brad, but his clothing and equipment had obviously seen far more use. The lining in his jacket was shredded, and his black stocking cap was frayed all the way around its edge. His gloves looked as though they’d been stitched together from pieces of an old catcher’s mitt, and his feet were cove
red by thick, well-worn moccasins.
“Don’t mind him,” Brad said. “He’s not one for the silver lining.”
Cole extended his hand to the older man anyway. “Cole Warnecki.”
The older man looked at Cole’s hand as if he thought it might be diseased. Eventually, he looked into Cole’s eyes and shifted his jaw back and forth beneath a thick layer of silver whiskers. “Gerald Keeler,” he said while shaking Cole’s hand.
Where Brad’s grip had been surprisingly strong, Gerald’s was just strong enough. In fact, the muscles in his arm and hand barely even tensed, making the old man seem like a bow that had only been halfway drawn.
“I know why he’s here,” Gerald said while hooking a thumb toward the large man who sat closest to the pilot and hadn’t said a word since Cole boarded the plane at Anchorage. “What about you?”
“Extreme vacation,” Brad said.
More whoops from the back.
Cole nodded and put his back to the cheering section.
After sizing him up, Gerald shrugged and looked away. He didn’t seem to believe what he’d heard, but he wasn’t interested enough to dispute it. Crossing his arms over his folded knees, Gerald rested his forehead on them. Snores rumbled from the older man moments later.
The plane shook again. This time the motors sputtered and the sensation of dropping through empty air swept through Cole’s stomach like bad Mexican food on its return trip toward the top of his throat. Despite the fact that it was already close to freezing inside the plane, a cold sweat broke out beneath his gear.
“That’s normal,” Brad said in response to the question Cole didn’t need to ask. “We’re almost there.”
“Whether we land or crash, I’ll just be glad to get the hell off this thing.”
“Try closing your eyes for a few minutes and picture something else. That helped me the first few times I flew in a crate like this.”
Cole’s first instinct was to picture the most recent night he’d spent with Nora. That didn’t do him any good. Just the thought of being undressed made the cold seep that much deeper beneath his skin. A few seconds later he latched onto something that brought a faint smile to his face.
Skinners: Blood Blade Page 2
