The Saffron Malformation

by Walker, Bryan

  These thoughts were prickling in the back of his mind and he knew it was a dangerous game to play, the game of maybe. As the whiskey burned the back of his throat he let it cleanse him of such thought, and he let it take his inclination toward trying to win Rain from Arnie too. It didn’t die or go away, as the tight pain running through his torso making him want to punch something constantly reminded him, it just gave up. He knew what it meant. As much as he wanted her, he’d never have her. He’d never be with her again, feeling her softness against him, tasting the excitement of her lips. It was like tearing a piece of himself away but he did it and moved along.

  “And then the brood found you,” he said.

  She shook her head, “It was Mister Stone.”

  A thought crossed him and suddenly he was nervous. “He found you at the hotel?”

  She nodded. “Just a bit of bad luck, but we managed to get away.”

  “Then the brood found you at my ranch.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you driving the same car?”

  She shook her head, “On our way to the ranch we ditched Arnie's car.”

  “You’re going to have to ditch everything else.”

  She peered at him.

  Quey sat forward. “And we have to leave now.” He looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Reggie, Dusty, get the cars.” They didn’t ask questions, time for that would be in abundance later, for now they moved with purpose.

  “I don’t get it…” she trailed off.

  “They couldn’t have gotten that lucky, to happen upon the ranch like that. They followed you to it somehow, which means they’re tracking you and if it’s not a device on your car its somewhere else, in your luggage or one of your jewelry pieces or something. Truth is we don’t have time to figure it out. You and Arnie dump everything but your clothes and we leave now before the Brood comes through and burns this place to the ground.”

  Arnie came over to them and asked, “What is it.”

  “You have a device?” Quey asked him.

  He nodded and replied, “An armlet,” then held up his right hand and showed him the metal cuff just below his wrist.

  “Leave it,” Quey said sharply.

  “What?”

  “On the table, just leave it.”

  “Quey thinks the Brood is tracking us somehow,” Rain told him.

  Arnie looked at him and shook his head, “No, they just-”

  “What?” Quey snapped. “Happened upon you twice? I’ve met this Mister Stone and let me tell you he’s not the sort who’s going to miss often, and he already has once. If you spotted him at that motel before he put a bullet to you it’s because he was on to something else, and if you slipped him it was because he didn’t need to be sticky.”

  His device went off in his pocket and he pulled it free and answered it. Dusty appeared on his screen. The image was shaking badly. “Convoy rolling in!” he shouted.

  “Copy,” was all Quey said before he closed his sheet and shoved it back in his pocket. “Let’s move,” he barked. He went to the bar, set a stack of bills in front of the bartender and said, “You might want to close up for the day. Bandits are about to roll through.”

  The bartender stared at him queerly for a spell, then what Quey told him slowly sunk in and he called to the waitress. “Barbra, Barbie, come on.”

  “What?” she replied and he hurried to her and spoke softly.

  Quey went to Arnie, standing dumbfounded beside the table, and removed his armlet, tossing it onto the table before leading them outside. The moving truck and blue car were already rushing toward them. Far beyond, coming down the hill kilometers in the distance, Quey could see the convoy. He couldn’t make the details from this distance but imagined there would be a dozen or so bikes, maybe six cars and he definitely spotted at least one rig. He thought it likely Render would be in that, as he was probably overseeing this operation himself.

  “You two are in the blue car, back seat,” he told Arnie and Rain, then he reached out, gripped the necklace around her neck and yanked once, hard. It snapped behind her neck and he dropped it into the ground. Her eyes trembled as they looked into his and then she discarded her earrings and bracelet herself.

  The truck stopped fast and the passenger door opened, Reggie had leaned over and pulled the latch. Quey hopped into the truck.

  “Wait!” Rain shouted. He looked at her from the cab of the truck. “We have to make a stop.”

  “You leave everything,” he snapped and slammed the door as she protested, “No it’s not.” Then she growled and let Arnie lead her to the blue car.

  Reggie slammed the accelerator and the truck raced up the road with the blue car close behind. They made it three kilometers when suddenly the car swerved hard, and then again. Quey watched it, peering into the mirror beside him and gaped and spun to look back with his own eyes when the car turned down a side road.

  “What the fuck?” Reggie asked.

  “That’s what I want to know.”

  Reggie turned the truck around, not too easy a task on a road as narrow as the one they were on, and started down the road where Dusty had detoured.

  The truck pulled up behind the blue car, which was stopped in front of what looked to be an abandoned farmhouse just in time to see Rain step from the back seat with a gun in her hand. She set it down on the roof of the car and ran toward the house.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Quey said, opening his door and hopping out before the truck came to a stop. Rain dashed into the house.

  Quey went to the car and Dusty got out. “She just grabbed the gun and said we had to make a stop,” he explained as he collected the pistol from the roof.

  Quey nodded and went to the house. The front door was open and he could hear her inside.

  “No don’t get anything, we have to go.” A small voice spoke as he stepped inside but he couldn’t make out what it said. “No, we have to leave everything,” Rain ordered. Quey saw her standing with a boy, thirteen or fourteen years old, in the room to the left.

  “What’s this?”

  Rain spun on her heels, startled. “I’m sorry but we had to get him.”

  Quey nodded. “Fuckin’ bitch.” She just stood gaping at him. “That Stone guy,” the boy recoiled at the mention of him, “he said you’d murdered someone and kidnapped a boy. I didn’t believe it but,” he gestured to the boy.

  “That’s not what happened,” she protested.

  “Yeah, well this whole thing is looking mighty suspicious from where I’m standing.”

  Arnie, Reggie, Dusty, and Rachel stopped in the entryway behind him.

  Leone looked at her, he was as tall as she was, maybe an inch greater but still small beside her. She put her arm around him.

  “You have any idea what’s going to happen, the hornets nest that’s been stirred on account of whatever you’re up to? The Brood is going to burn that town to the ground.” He went to her, grabbed her and pulled her toward the window, leaving the boy standing scared in the middle of the room. “Look,” he said pointing toward the buildings along the street and the bar they’d just left. The convoy was nearly there. “I want you to see.”

  “You don’t understand what’s going on,” she told him.

  “Oh really? I understand a lot of people are going to die today and you’ve gotten me locked up in this bit twice now, so enlighten me. Tell me something that makes this sensible.” He looked down at her with a hard gaze. His anger was about more than the situation with the brood. He couldn’t bare to admit it to himself, but if she hadn’t been there with Arnie it wouldn’t have existed at all.

  She turned toward him and glared up at him, a lion who’s had enough and means to be rid of a nuisance. “I didn’t kidnap him,” she snapped.

  “Then why all this fuss? And don’t tell me he’s yours. What, you have him when you were twelve?”

  “What this is about is a bruised ego and a crazy man obsessed with control. You want to know,” she stopped and started ag
ain. “My name, is Viona Crow.” Quey shrunk back from her. “And this is Leone Crow. You’ve heard of our family, I’m sure. Well he’s my brother. And yes, he’s mine. Made so the day our father murdered our mother. And I mean to keep him as far from that man as I can manage.” As an afterthought she added, “And for your information I was fourteen when he was born.”

  Quey looked at the boy and saw he was watching the situation terrified.

  Rain shoved Quey hard, sending him reeling back against the wall where he looked at her with surprise. “You fucking asshole,” she shouted at him. “Who are you to question me like that? In a house full of arrogant pricks, a newborn baby and me who do you think fed him, bathed him, dressed him, taught him to talk and read and do his numbers?” Tears rolled from her eyes as she stepped toward him and for a moment he thought she was going to hit him. He was right to think it because she almost did, but then she shoved him again instead. “Who made sure he had lunch for school and that he did his work and got good marks? I may not be his mother,” She glared at Quey and this time she did hit him as she shouted, “but he’s my fucking kid.” She went to Leone and hugged him. She was calmer now that she’d let it out and said, “They don’t get to have him.” She kissed his forehead tenderly and added, “They don’t get to turn him into one of them.” She looked at Quey. Her anger and frustration gave way like an overstressed dam, and in that look she was begging for his help. A single, barely audible, “Please,” was all she could muster to surmise a desperation a billion words would fail to express.

  “Reggie, Dusty,” Quey said absently. “Get on the maps. We’re going to need another road out of here.”

  The two men moved with purpose again.

  Quey stepped forward. Leone watched him with uncertainty and he smiled. “What was your name?” Quey asked.

  “Leone,” he replied.

  Quey nodded, “Mine’s Quey.”

  He smiled and tried to suppress a chuckle.

  “It’s alright. You can laugh. I’ve lived with it long enough to realize it’s funny.” Leone laughed. He let him have the moment then said, “There’s a lot of ugly comin this way.” Leone nodded. He shifted his gaze between them. “We can get out of this but we need to move quick, and I gotta know you’re willing to do as told without hesitation.” The boy nodded and he settled his eyes on him. “If things go bad I need you to keep low, copy?” A nod. “No matter what happens you stay hidden, cause I get the sense your sister here would never find it in her heart to forgive the poor fools who let anything happen to you, right?” Leone looked at his sister and smiled. Quey extended his hand and the boy took and shook it with a firm grip. “Good,” he said. The boy was a boy, on his way to manhood but not quite there. Still, he was tougher than he looked. Quey met Rain’s eyes and knew where he’d gotten it from.

  “Rachel?” he called and she stepped forward. “You get the boy set in the car. He’ll ride in back with Arnie and…” he looked at her.

  “Rain,” she finished for him. He nodded, “Rain,” and Rachel led Leone toward the door.

  “Wait,” Arnie said and they did. “We have a car.”

  “Gotta leave it,” Quey told him. “Might be how they tracked you.”

  He looked down at his feet.

  “Give me a hand,” Rachel said to Arnie and he glanced up as if she’d interrupted a thought and then followed her outside.

  They were alone for a few ticks before Quey found his voice and meant to apologize.

  Rain spoke first. “It’s my fault. I should have told you right away, hell I shouldn’t have even went along with it when Arnie decided to call you.”

  “No,” Quey told her. “I’m glad you did.”

  She smiled at him. “Quey,” she began, taking a step forward.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her and she backed down. “About all that’s happened.” She swallowed. “I’ll get you out of this,” he promised and wished he hadn’t. Those were dangerous sorts of promises to make.

  Reggie came in through the front door and said, “We gotta move.”

  Run and Hide

  There was a car parked outside Natalie’s house. She didn’t know why the sight of it tightened her throat but it did. Maybe because it was out of place, no one in Northshire was wealthy enough to afford such a vehicle, or maybe it was what Quey had said before he left, “Have a way out.”

  “Whose car is that?” Amber asked from beside her. The girl had either sensed her mother’s unease or developed her own.

  Natalie shook her head and replied, “I don’t know.” Her only concern became getting Amber away from there. “Listen, you think you can go to Lizzie’s house for a bit.”

  Amber shook her head, “She has practice till six.”

  Natalie nodded and tried to think.

  “Mom, what’s going on?”

  Natalie looked at her daughter, uncertain of what to say.

  “Do you know whose car that is?”

  “No,” she replied. “I just,” she trailed off. Amber was getting scared and she knew it was because of her reaction. It was nothing, she knew, just a car parked along the street. Could be someone visiting the person across the way, people parked like that sometimes, but her guts told her something about it was wrong. Without thinking she drove slowly past the house.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” Amber asked and this time her voice trembled.

  “I just need a minute.” She stopped the car two houses down and sat. Quey had told her a lot that last night, about the Angels of the Brood running rabid, raiding cities, looking for him. She remembered his words, “Have a way out.” It wasn’t advice he gave when she refused to go with him—it was a warning. What that warning was about exactly she might not be sure of, but she was willing to bet it had something to do with that car.

  Amber’s eyes were full of tears as they watched her, waiting for something to make sense. Natalie tried to reassure her with a smile, but it was hollow. “I’m going to run over and make sure everything’s okay at the house.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” her daughter interrupted.

  “I’m sure it is, but I just want to check. Afterward we can go inside and have a snack and a laugh. Okay?”

  Amber nodded, but she didn’t believe it. Something was up, and not knowing was worse than whatever had her mother on edge.

  Natalie stepped out of the car, taking her sheet—folded—with her. As she moved toward the house she opened the emergency app and readied her thumb to tap the button to call for security.

  The day was bright and nearly cloudless with a gentle breeze that shook the leaves overhead. Down the street there was a group of children playing, shouting at one another with excited little voices. She didn’t see them, even when she glanced briefly in their direction. Her focus was on her house and her mind remained on the question, ‘Where is the owner of that car.’

  Before she knew it she was at the door, her hand wrapped around the knob. Her heart sank when it turned. She’d locked the door this morning, of that she had no doubt. Heart racing, she fought off the fear threatening to paralyze her as she opened the door slowly, trying to remain quiet. It was only open a little more than a crack when she heard the sniveling and then the trembling plea. “Please,” a voice said. “I don’t know anything.”

  Natalie opened the door a bit more and peered into the living room where a man was looming over Thomas, who was curled up in the corner. Thomas was her landlord, a nice man who helped her out from time to time with the maintenance of the house and she remembered then that he said he was going to come by soon and check on some things for her. He said he probably wouldn’t get to it for a few days but it seemed he had come by early. Who the other man was she didn’t know.

  “I need to find her,” the looming man said. He was wearing a black long sleeve and black slacks. “I’m going to find her,” he continued.

  “I told you I don’t live here, I was just checking the pluming in the kitchen.” That was when Thomas spotted her
at the door. His eyes betrayed her and Sticklan Stone turned and looked at her. His eyes flared with excitement and as he turned toward her she saw the light catch on the edge of the knife he was holding. It was the sort used in surgery and the sight of it sent the fear in her guts through her limbs.

  For a moment she was stunned but when he started toward her she remembered the sheet in her hand and tapped the emergency button. Sticklan was nearly on her when she held up the sheet. “They’ll be here any second,” she warned him.

  Sticklan glared at her and she thought for a moment he might just slice her open anyway, right there on the steps. Her hands were numb and the sheet felt heavy as she backed away from him, keeping her distance from the end of his knife.

  “Where’s Quey Von Zaul?” he snapped at her.

  She didn’t bother to lie. “He was here a few days ago, told me my father died in the raid in Fen Quada, but he left. He didn’t tell me where he was going.”

  “Do you know who I work for?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “The moonshiner is a wanted man at present,” he informed her.

  “And when that security gets here my credentials will hold up to scrutiny. After that I’ll tell them about how you were visited by a wanted man, a terrorist and his crew, just a few days ago. I’ll throw words like aiding and abiding around and tell them about how I need to take you in for questioning. Then no one’ll see you again.”

  Her eyes flared and she turned and ran from him.

  Sticklan pulled his sheet from his pocket and selected an app. He used it to scan for nearby devices and found hers, foolishly named Natalie’s sheet. He tapped the button at the bottom of the screen and began a trace on it. She’d go to the moonshiner now, or at the very least she’d call him, either way he’d have him.

  Trembling, Natalie climbed behind the wheel and drove away fast, honking her horn at the group of children playing in the street as she zipped by, catching an angry shout from a nearby parent.