Black Ghost Runner

by M. Garnet

  As the cooler air of evening moved the mismatched curtains in her one room, she woke to start to get ready for the night ahead of her in the bar. It had become routine—a shower, time to braid her long hair, then pick out a cool native blouse to wear loose over the khakis with the multiple pockets down the legs. These she rolled up to the knees. Brandy slipped on the pair of Huaraches that she’d worn until they were comfortable. The leather had become so shabby, they didn’t make any sounds as she moved. She did one other thing—she wrapped her breasts in long linen strips, not to hide them, but because she was down to only one decent bra. She didn’t want the advances she would draw, going free under the soft blouse.

  So, this was the life of Brandy. This was the way Beth had found to hide from the Black Ghost chased by a crazy millionaire.

  It was out to the old bus, then across to the edge of town, where the bar with the peeling sign waited. Carl told her once that the old peeling sign was why he called it the NoName Bar. The sign was so old, the colors faded. At the top, one could see an N and at the end, one could barely read the word bar in small letters. Carl chose not to spend any money to paint the sign, so he just told people the sign read NoName Bar. Who knew, he might have been right. Then again, what about the fact that the N could have been the last owner’s name? Carl only smiled. No one could prove him wrong, as no one could remember what was painted on the sign originally.

  The night was like the last couple hundred that she had become use to. Food was brought in from the outside kitchen, mostly free to keep the bellies of the drunks full. There was less trouble that way. Some old man with a guitar began to sing for tips, sitting in the corner. He had been showing up a lot lately. It wasn’t crowded, so the whores weren’t getting much of a work out, especially Madrill, the young male.

  Madrill had a special set of clients. He was a beautiful young man, with dark eyes surrounded by long lashes, a firm chin that still said male. Many of the Mexicans had a strong double standard about their lives, here in the deep part of the country. Men were not supposed to like to fuck men. Women were not supposed to want to hire male whores. Fortunately for Madrill, standards were meant to be broken, on both sides. Most of the time, his clients were quiet, unless they were too drunk or it was a dare. At those times, Tim might step in…or not.

  The whores were paid for at the bar, up front. Most of the time they didn’t even have to undress, but just lean over a table in back, lift their skirts, then brag about how big each hombre was, el mucho. They learned early to say this in a believable way repeatedly in order to earn tips. Of course, sometimes, it wasn’t even necessary to lift a skirt. Just stoop over, or better yet, wipe it off with one of the rags before they sucked on it. It seemed Mexican wives very seldom went down on their men, so this was fairly safe for the whores, quick easy money.

  One of the regulars, laid the correct amount on the bar, nodded at her first, then at one of the whores, a big smile on his face and his eyebrows raised. This was the normal wishful attempt by the locals to get into her pants, knowing that the answer was always No. When she had first started working the bar for Carl, it had kept both Carl and the bouncer he had then way too busy making the men understand that Brandy was not part of the products available at the NoName Bar. Brandy looked up with a smile and nodded No at the man, who nodded an Okay at Tim. Taking the change, she continued to wipe the wood. There was the soft click of a coin further down on the bar. It was the dark young woman along with her companion. They had come in earlier, ordered drinks and settled down to watch the locals. They were unknown. Everyone was surreptitiously watching them.

  The man was big, like a lumberjack or someone who worked with his hands in heavy equipment. The woman was tall and looked like she could handle herself. He had a Boonie hat in dark military green, allowing the floppy wide brim to hang low, hiding his face. They both had on long dark colored ponchos, wearing them the right way with the points in front. Everything, including their legs, looked worn and was covered in dust. From the rumors, they had walked into town. If they had a vehicle, it was hidden somewhere out in the weeds.

  They had devoured a lot of free food, drinking a little, paying as they went, so when she heard the click of coin on the bar, she grabbed a bottle of the good stuff and went to them. The woman covered her glass with her hand. They had paid for the better stuff instead of the local homemade alky that was cheap. Usually the cheap stuff was the choice of most of the clients of the NoName Bar.

  Brandy set the bottle down then leaned against the back counter. Keeping in style she spoke in Spanish. “What can I do for ya’?”

  The woman, also speaking in native Spanish, nodded down towards Madrill. “Your boy, what’s the price for a double?”

  Brandy looked at the two. Something seemed out of sync here. These two could do each other until the sun came up—why did they want someone else who had been passed around? She looked over at Madrill, who was suddenly all Peacock. These two were way above the usual body odor that got stuck into his mouth. She got the message from him, yet she was still uncomfortable.

  “Okay.” She quoted the price for a half hour in one of the back rooms. “But, I want my bouncer to be outside the door. Last time we had a twosome, my girl had some real problems.”

  They agreed, and Madrill led the parade. Brandy put the money in the correct pocket.

  She served two more locals, then a half hour later, the twosome came out.

  A moment later, Tim came out to whisper in her ear.

  “It’s going to be a while before Madrill comes out. He is fine, but has a smile that will take a month of rainy days to rub off. They did him right, tip also.” She nodded at Tim, picking up the good stuff with two new clean glasses. She went back over to the woman.

  “Your boy is good, too good for this place. Let him earn enough to get away.” The woman dropped a coin on the wood, so Brandy poured. She was pouring the second glass, about to answer when the woman went on. “So, you are the one who tamed the Alpha. Wondered if anyone would ever crack Noble’s black heart.” This was said in English.

  Brandy knew her heart was not beating. Fortunately, she tipped the JD back before overfilling the second glass. She stepped away from the two. She was glad the back counter was so close, to have something to hold her up.

  She looked down to mask her eyes, so the panic couldn’t be read. “Unlike American bars, conversation with the bartender is not on the menu here. Anything else?” She slowly started away, mentally going over her personal supplies, backpack, cash, VW bus, adequate food, and some fresh water. Oh, don’t forget the small thirty-eight pistol. God, she hated leaving this place, especially Carl. She had been able to stay here longer than anywhere since she had been running from the Black Ghost or anyone who was hunting him.

  Brandy felt their eyes on her, but didn't say anything else. She poured out of a local jug for another slouched patron, watching out of the corner of her eye as they turned away from the bar to slowly leave. She nodded as Madrill finally came out from the open archway to the back. He didn’t look like he had been working the flesh, but rather, like he’d been on a ten day vacation.

  Brandy ran the bar for the rest of the night, as usual. There were fewer than usual patrons, so she let the whores go early, especially Madrill, who wouldn’t quit smiling. She told Tim to handle the last people cleaning up as she went into the little office.

  There, she pulled out a half dozen small envelopes, the only ones Carl kept available. She started out putting Carl’s name on one, then put a short note inside.

  Sorry, I would not leave if it were not life or death. Love, Brandy

  Next, she divided the money, even though it was not payday. She addressed each envelope, put the right amount of cash inside, and sealed each carefully. She stacked the envelopes with Tim’s on top. There was a note with instructions for Tim to contact Carl immediately, along with his cash.

  She calmly closed the office door behind her. If she didn�
��t come in tomorrow evening, Tim would check the office first. She went out, held up her end of closing as usual, then let Tim walk her to the beat-up bus. She drove a block away and turned a corner so Tim couldn’t see her. She pulled over to sit for a moment. The big decision was whether to go back to the apartment or not. No decision made.

  However, before she could pull back out a large figure stepped out in front of the bus—the big guy who had two-teamed Madrill. Now, where was the woman? The answer came fast as the passenger door opened. At least she didn’t enter.

  “Hey, sorry. We didn’t mean to frighten you. We wanted to just let you know that there was protection for you in the area.” Her voice was low so it wouldn’t carry in the dark morning. Her face was hidden in the darkness. There wasn’t enough light from the dashboard to reflect anywhere except her enigmatic eyes.

  Brandy swallowed, but everything was dry. “I don’t want protection. I want to be left alone.”

  The woman shifted slightly, looking at the big guy in the headlights. “Well, we wanted to let you know that you are being looked after. Right now there is no threat in the area, so see…” the woman waved her arms, “You don’t have to leave yet.”

  Brandy took a deep breath, feeling her sweaty hands slide on the wheel she was hanging onto with all her strength. “I was doing fine on my own. Why would I want to stay?”

  The big male moved out of the lights, but she could see him as he leaned against the side of the building they were next to. He was just a large dark shadow. The woman shifted her body again. “Do you really believe you were ever alone, unprotected? The Alpha would have new tails hanging on his barn. Someone was with you the entire trip, moving south, New Mexico, across into Texas—the trucker that took you into Mexico. Most of the time it has been local shifters, once in a while there was one of Noble’s pack.”

  The woman seemed to relax a little, waiting to see how Beth was going to react. Beth didn’t know if she should get angry or be scared. She sat slowly, letting her breathing calm down. She realized the big guy in front of the bus had stayed away on purpose to allow her space. Smart.

  Beth had to ask because she was so used to running from two groups. “You sure the maniac who wants to live forever hasn’t found this area?”

  She was surprised that the woman actually laughed. “Fate caught up with him. He died on a surgery table, trying for one too many transplants. I hear his heirs are happily fighting over his money in the courts of four countries.”

  Beth couldn’t enjoy the humor the woman had, but she did understand the results of destiny. “I do like the people I work with right now. I am so tired of running.” She let go of the wheel to lean back on the patched seat.

  “Well, there is one other thing.” The woman’s head was tilted towards the big guy. Shit. She waited for the other shoe to fall. No one said anything. The woman did let the other shoe go. It was a large shit-kicker, size Fifteen, big thump when it hit. “Noble wants to see you.”

  Shit, shit, shit. Beth felt like her body was finally getting over the memory of his, but no, just the thought of meeting with him again sent heat all over, especially to special parts. “Well, obviously he knows where I am at—what is the hang up?”

  Lots of throat clearing, both people shuffled feet in dust, then she explained. “He isn’t able to come into the desert—he is in the jungle.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t do bugs and snakes, no way, nope, nada, nothing. Forget it. He knows where I am, every night. I will stay here a few more days and see how I feel. Let him come to the bar.” She couldn’t believe she was agreeing to meet him.

  The woman had been careful all this time to keep her voice low, now it was almost a whisper. “He’s hurt, a righteous fight. Defending the pack. He slowly moved here to heal—well, and probably to be near you.”

  Damn, anything else, but this. “So, your kind can’t go to hospitals. Don’t you have your own medical people? You know, healers or whatever?” Brandy refused to look at either, just hoping they would give her some better info.

  Over a long drawn breath, she heard the woman. “Yes, we do, and yes, he did get some help. His injuries were severe. Fortunately, he is strong, but the Alpha is always at risk. Other packs would like to take over. After all, he is the head top Alpha. Politics and all, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. I know nothing about…well…Noble’s pack or your politics, and I don’t really want to know. I don’t want to know about maniacs chasing people that turn into cats. I just want a normal life. Shit.” She laid her head down on the steering wheel.

  “You forgot to list the CIA, NSA and every other government letter combination. They would have many uses for someone who could change to get behind enemy lines. They have been trying to recruit us for years.”

  “Great.” Beth refused to raise her head. “We now have the government involved. The real jerks, the ones we all have to be afraid of, because they have hidden power. Damn, damn, damn.” She was hitting her head on the greasy wheel.

  Suddenly, there was the noise of a beater, as a couple of men headed towards the center of town in the rusted car. They didn’t slow down, leaving only a blanket of dust behind. Okay, the three of them could not sit here with dawn bringing heat or people.

  “Go and do whatever it is you two do, then meet me at the bar around eleven tonight.” She started her bus, trusting the woman would close the door. She drove to her warehouse to settle in for the day. Somehow, she doubted if she would get any rest.

  That night she carried a tote to work with a change of clothes. She checked the office, but decided to leave the envelopes alone, just in case she had an accident. She changed the note in Carl’s.

  Carl, something came up, I will call. Brandy

  This would give her a chance to come back if she got stuck away for a night or two. It was nothing serious. At eleven on the nose, the two came in. She was notified by the frowns of the locals. Madrill suddenly moved over to help her behind the bar.

  “Madrill, I need to leave for a little while, so you will be in charge of the drinks. Remember to let Tim make all decisions.” She grabbed her tote and walked over to Tim.

  “Tim, sorry to pull this on you, but I need to leave for a little while. I am heading out near Carl’s fishing camp.” If Tim had the wrong idea as to why she was going to see Carl, that would be okay.

  Tim looked from her to the two behind her who went on out the door. “Are you sure you are okay?”

  “Tim, no problem. You know this area. Ask no questions and get no lies.” She reached up on her toes, kissed him on the cheek, patted his shoulder, then followed the twosome outside into the hot night.

  Brandy held out the keys to the rusted VW bus. “Do I drive?”

  The guy smiled under the brim of his boonie. “I have something better.” She followed them out to the final buildings around a corner. There in the dark, so dark it blended in with its coat of dust, sat one of the new, small four wheelers. She threw her tote in the back, climbed in beside it, and watched the dark figures in the front as the powerful vehicle took off into the night.

  She waited quietly during the long drive, as the road led into the highlands. At first it got cooler, then they were over the ridges into the moist clouds and damp air until it started to warm up. It was still cool, but humidity changed everything. The foliage began to close in, both overhead and brushing at the sides of the vehicle.

  In the dark, with the stars hidden, Brandy had no idea where they were. She changed clothes, putting on long khakis, then pulled high socks up over the pants and tied on the weather proof walking boots. She put on a sleeveless tee after pulling out a light weatherproof poncho. Last, she pulled out the two most important items, a large bottle of bug spray and her ten inch knife to strap to her belt.

  The sounds of the jungle were quiet due to the alien noise from the vehicle. Everything that belonged here drew back to observe, waiting out their place in the food chain. The headlight
s, on low beam, reflected from numerous pairs of eyes in different sizes. They were at different heights, no color, just that odd reflection of light—blink, blink, then disappear. The quiet jungle was alive, watching.

  They slowed as they came to a small bridge that was in amazingly good shape, as if repaired recently. “You guys work on this road and bridge?”

  There was silence up front for a moment, then the woman answered. “Someone else has been through here.” She felt the tension in the interior of the solid vehicle.

  “We’re going back.” This was from the man as he turned to look over the back of his seat, throwing the vehicle in reverse. Suddenly there were bright lights on the passenger side of the car.

  “Brandy, just forget anything and run into the forest. They are after us and we can change and get away. They will only want you because you are with us.” This was from the woman as both of them were ripping off their clothes. Suddenly, the woman stopped and pointed to the other door, with its window down. “Go!”

  Brandy went, sliding over the hump, and, taking nothing but her poncho, she bumped, head first through the square window. She landed in the soft squashy plants with soil that had things she didn’t want to think about. She heard gunshots along with shouts. Beside her, she saw a huge spotted animal jump with grace, disappearing quietly into the darkness.

  With no grace and accompanied by a lot of noise, she headed into the same darkness, slipping, falling, getting slapped by limbs, leaves or things she couldn’t identify. She had only one thought, get away from the four by four. She was on her hands and knees, thankful for the dense material of her pants. She was wet from the hips down, crawling through the underbrush, not seeing the holes full of muck as she pushed aside vines to move ahead.