Defending the Lost

by Justin Sloan

  “And now we have a duty to him!”

  “I’m as onboard with this as you are,” Royland hissed. “Don’t think otherwise. All I’m saying is, we figure out the best way to go about it without leaving Valerie high and dry.”

  She nodded, then found some of the dried beef for herself and bit off a chunk. Whoever had seasoned it had done a damn fine job, with just the right amount of pepper and spice. After she swallowed, she said what she imagined they both were thinking.

  “Valerie might not even come back this way. She might return to New York in spite of what she said on the subject. And there’s that whole going-into-space idea.”

  “She might have mentioned that.” Royland frowned, then shifted uncomfortably. “We’ll find out soon enough, I imagine. When has she ever taken her time with anything?”

  Cammie nodded. “That’s what I thought. I’ve told William and his crew to get the ships ready, tell the remaining captains that we want to start patrols along our coast, be sure there aren’t any pirates coming this way, and spread the word to the trading captains that piracy in these waters is a thing of the past.”

  “And I’ll lead raids inland.” Royland nodded his approval. “We’ll ensure no indie allies are around and give any nomad groups we find a choice: they join us, or they’re against us.”

  She agreed. “It’s the only way to set this place on the right path.”

  ***

  The next day she inspected the ships, both air and sea, out of tradition rather than anything else. Pretty much everyone there knew more about the ships than she did.

  She marveled at the way these sailors had managed to refurbish old ships. Even more impressive was the whole airship culture, the idea of which she understood to have been taken from old stories and adapted with the antigrav technology.

  They had soon taken to the air, heading inland first while two other captains began scouting missions along the shore.

  Cammie hoped to find some sign related to the man she had seen watching them, but that first day they found nothing more than an abandoned shack, the remains of a city from before the great collapse—clearly uninhabitable, as everything had been demolished and picked clean for parts—and miles of deserted, dusty land. She began to tire of all the brown below, to the point that her heart would leap at any sign of green in the distance. Patches of trees grew in spots, mostly gnarled, but some growing tall despite their circumstances.

  It wasn’t like the old days, from what she understood of them anyway. She had heard stories about this part of the world, the north. Snow and cold and weather like she couldn’t imagine. Now it was simply hot all year, with occasional storms.

  And this had led to the dead, endlessly dreary scenery she saw before her.

  It also led to long moments with nothing to do but chat with William and the others, and before long she was starting to think of him like a brother.

  When they returned in the evening, she gave him a hug and told him to watch his back and be ready to go out on patrol again the next day. Meanwhile, the community on Prince Edward Island was thriving, as she found out when they returned on the third evening.

  The sun was already behind the hills to the west when they landed, as they had ventured farther than before, hoping to find something. A gentle breeze came in from the ocean, carrying with it the scent of fish grilled over a fire.

  Her belly rumbled and she turned to William. “You better hurry, or there won’t be any left after I’m finished.”

  “Not to worry.” Royland appeared on the gangplank of the next closest ship. He was carrying a crate, and three pirates behind him carried another. “Sandra sent a shipment of croissants and a bottle of wine.”

  “No shit?” Cammie jogged over to help him with the crate and they set it down next to several others she hadn’t noticed.

  “Our first legally-traded shipment,” Royland announced with a smile. “Though I wonder if they told her Val wasn’t with us. I mean, she did send one of the nice bottles of wine.”

  “It’s Robin who has a thing for Val, not Sandra.”

  He shrugged. “They were best friends long before Robin or what’s-his-name came along.”

  “What’s-his-name was Jackson, and Sandra and Val were only ever friends.” When he gave her a skeptical look, she added, “I have a gift for seeing these things.”

  “Also, Bronson said thank you,” one of the pirates told them, a man she had come to know as Captain Reems. “He and his kids are fitting in nicely, I was assured.”

  “And the girl?” Cammie asked.

  He nodded. “Already doing her part. Heard she outed someone right away.”

  “Damn. Anyone I’d know?”

  “Actually, not a Golden City Were at all.” The captain nodded to his men, who headed back to fetch the next crate. “A vampire named Otis. Nobody knew much about him. The type that keeps to the shadows, or…kept. They got the bastard locked up for questioning."

  “I’d have killed him.”

  “They almost did,” Reems told them. “Well, Sandra almost did.”

  "Damn," Cammie nodded approvingly.

  “Thank you.” Royland gave him a look that told Captain Reems he could and should get back to his duties.

  “Oh, just one more thing,” the captain said, glancing around. “I don’t suppose Valerie has returned?”

  Cammie shook her head, ignoring the annoyed look Royland was giving the man.

  “Sandra said to pass this on. From a sergeant in New York, said he came over from a certain Colonel Terry-Henry Walton’s group.” He turned to his personal pack and brought out a small comm device. “Said they want to get it to Valerie ASAP. Solar powered, satellite-operated—whatever the hell that means—and basically should be able to work anywhere.”

  “No shit?” Cammie took it, staring at the little black device in awe.

  “I’d say it’s pretty damn valuable, and to be careful with it,” Captain Reems said.

  “That’s likely the understatement of the century,” Royland said, now crowding in to have a look too. “Satellites…I’ve heard that term. Something that man created long ago, an ancient piece of culture that floats in space and once provided communications, entertainment…all sorts of interconnectedness that we could only dream of.”

  “Until now,” Cammie said, beaming. “At least, we have a little chunk of it.”

  The captain nodded, then turned to go, only stopping at a final “Thank you” from Cammie.

  When he was back at the boat, Cammie stowed the comm device and turned to Royland.

  “Where’s Kristof?”

  “The boy crashed early. Kept saying how badly he wants to go on patrol, though. Wouldn’t let up on it.”

  “You know it’s too dangerous,” she replied.

  “Do I?” He laughed. “All I hear is that you sail around being bored.”

  She frowned, but couldn’t argue. “So far,” she cautioned, glancing up as the captain and his men carried the last of the crates down.

  “How long do we wait?” Royland asked.

  “Val hasn’t been gone that long.” Cammie stepped closer, looking into his eyes. “You really care, don’t you? I mean, about this boy.”

  “I really care about getting the boy home so that I don’t start caring for him in a way that can’t be reality.”

  “Like a son.” She nodded. “I get it.”

  “I don’t think you possibly could,” he replied. “Not unless you’d been alive as long as I have. Your mind starts considering everything you’ve missed out on.”

  She took his hand and squeezed, not sure what he was saying right now. That he wanted a family? The thought made her want to tuck her tail and run away. Hell, she had only just told him she loved him, and she wasn’t sure vampires and Weres could reproduce even if they wanted to, especially with each other.

  But for now, she held his hand to her chest and told him, “We’ll get him home, just…not yet.”

  “We can’t wait
forever.”

  She nodded, considering it, then added, “Maybe I’ll take him out next time.”

  He smiled at that, then took her by the hand to lead her toward the smell of the cooking fish. “Come on, it’s time to fill that belly of yours with the most amazing fish you’ve ever tried.”

  “You’re speaking my language now, good sir,” she replied, happy to follow him and have more positive thoughts to focus on.

  When they reached the cookout, the other sailors and community members were already starting to pass around the grilled fish, along with some of the last of the bottles from the Prince’s stash.

  “I’ve got a special treat for you tonight,” William announced, and everyone cheered.

  Cammie perked up when she saw him pull out a strange wooden device with strings on it. When he began to pluck those strings, it was as if she had been pulled away to another time and place. She couldn’t remember hearing anything like that.

  The sailors loved it and began clapping along, but it was clear William didn’t really know what he was doing with it.

  “It’s called a banjo,” Royland whispered into Cammie’s ear. “Would you like to hear how it’s played?”

  “Aren’t I already?”

  “You’re about to.” He walked over to William, whispered something in the man’s ear that earned him a grin, and took the banjo William handed him.

  “Ladies and gents, boys and girls,” William shouted, “it appears we have an expert banjo player in our midst, as he assures me this thing is called. Well, kind sir, play on.” He gave a deep bow to Royland and then stepped back.

  As Royland began to play, the world transformed around them. Everyone was into it, clapping, interlocking arms and dancing, and even Cammie found herself spinning and stomping and having a grand time.

  On a night like this, she could almost forget about the old days, the times she had been required to take a life so that her own might be spared, or that of a friend. She could forget the pain of those she had seen in the streets of New York, or before that in the nomad tribes and among the crazies out there in the wilderness.

  This was life, she thought, as Royland handed the banjo back to William to join her in a dance.

  And when he put his hands in her hair and kissed her, she felt as if it were the perfect night. Well, not as perfect as a few minutes later when the two were sitting at the edge of the water, bare feet in the sand, eating grilled fish as they watched the waves.

  Now, she thought to herself. Now it was a perfect night.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Outside New York

  The day came for the strike team to make a move on their first target. It was early morning when they set out, but a team of vampires accompanied them in assassin gear taken from the Black Plague to protect them from the sun.

  Now that Clara and Platea had filled them in on the situation with the network of indies, it was more important than ever that they take care of the enemy nodes.

  And this was no longer a simple strike, it was an intel-gathering mission. Find out who the partners were, and where.

  Diego really did want to stay with his wife and unborn child, if for nothing else than to help her around the house. She had shown signs of being exhausted lately, even if she wouldn’t admit it, and nausea had woken her up more than she liked to admit.

  Still, a part of him looked forward to having an excuse to transform and teach some bastards a lesson. It wasn’t that he enjoyed hurting people or killing, when it came to it, but he loved making the world a better place. If it took blood, then so be it.

  This wasn’t an attitude he liked to discuss openly too often, but it was something he, Garcia, and Felix could all agree on.

  “Colonel Walton is going to love this,” Garcia noted, running in a crouch to approach the edge of the hill. Diego and Felix were at his side, a small group of Weres and vampires behind them.

  A soldier lay in the grass staring forward. He had told them to hang back while he confirmed the location, then motioned to them to advance.

  “What’re we dealing with?” Felix asked.

  “If it were me and my men, I’d say be careful,” the soldier told him. “But honestly?” He looked at the Weres and vampires and laughed. “I almost feel sorry for this outpost.”

  “How many men, soldier?” Garcia demanded. “The last thing we need to do is get cocky and lose someone in battle.”

  “Right. Sorry, Sergeant. We’ve been watching this one for almost twenty-four hours, and we’re dealing with approximately forty of ’em by my best guess.”

  “That’s nearly two-to-one,” Felix said with a smile. “The guy’s right. Cakewalk.”

  Garcia grunted. “Keep the hubris to yourself. Tell the men it’s more like eighty, and that they might have some vampires hidden away.”

  Felix laughed quietly and nodded. “Enjoy the show, Sarge.”

  “Don’t get me started.” Garcia pointed a finger at his chest. “Sometimes I think, hey, that guy can heal, what’s the big deal if I shoot him in the leg to get him to shut up?”

  “Shoot me next time you have the craving,” Felix replied. “I like to play rough.”

  “Okay, boys, enough flirting,” Diego interjected. “We have some dickheads to kill.”

  “That’s just the kind of foreplay I need to get ready for this guy.” Felix blew Garcia a mocking kiss.

  “Hardy har,” Garcia replied. “You know that if I ate muffins yours would be the first I’d eat, big guy.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you two are talking about,” Diego said with a chuckle, “but you’re making the soldier guy blush.”

  Not only was the guy blushing, but Diego was pretty sure he was doing his best to not look in Felix’s direction. Huh, he’d have to come back to that, maybe hook them up on a date or something.

  “Don’t forget to leave a couple alive,” Garcia reminded them, moving on. “We need that intel.”

  “Roger that,” Felix replied, and turned to Diego. “On your mark.”

  Diego peeked over the hill to see that it went down into a bit of a decline that led into a field of brown grass and several huts. A guard, if you could call him that, sat snoring on a raised platform with a crossbow at his side.

  They’d caught them sleeping. Good.

  He was about to give the signal when he noticed something that turned his stomach. Not far from the sleeping guard, in the center of the little community, was a fire pit. Over it was the remains of last night’s dinner, and there was no doubt it was a human leg.

  “Motherfuckers,” Diego spat, blood boiling. “We’re keeping one alive. No more.”

  “What’d you see…?” Felix started, but then had a look, too. “Pissant piece of shit.”

  “Go. Just fucking go!” Diego didn’t even wait for the others. He was already charging into battle, rifle raised to aim. He paused, brought the guard into his sights, and then POW! Brain matter spattered and the guard dropped.

  He knew the shot would alert the others, but at this point he really wanted more of a struggle from them. He wanted to see the pain in their faces and the terror in their eyes as they were soundly defeated.

  As he’d expected, men came stumbling out of their homes, some pulling on pants, others not bothering; the vampires were moving too fast.

  Black forms darted through them like the wind, and they dropped with thud after thud.

  Then a couple up past the main encampment began shooting, and Diego smiled. Good, more of them.

  The Weres were transforming now, as more of their team noticed the leg or the skulls Diego now saw piled up next to one hut like a religious offering. The occupant would be the person kept alive for now, he decided.

  “Open up,” he shouted and kicked in the door, then dove sideways to avoid a shotgun blast. In an instant he was at the man, knocking the shotgun aside and plunging a knife into his upper arm to render it useless.

  This dude was large, with a white beard and fierce blue
eyes. He wore a vest over his protruding gut and had a long scar across his chest.

  When he turned on Diego howling and cursing it must have looked like a straight-up David and Goliath moment, but size had never been a factor for Diego so he just smiled and ducked under the haymaker from the man’s other arm. He came up on his other side and landed a knee to the man’s groin, but to his surprise, that didn’t do much other than piss the guy off.

  Fine, Diego thought. Time to go Werecat on his ass.

  He ducked another strike and transformed into a puma as the man charged him. He was there one moment and gone the next, and the large man went tumbling over his porch’s railing to land with a thud on the ground.

  And then Diego was on him, growling, teeth tearing into the other arm before he went for the throat.

  He stopped himself. This was the one he had wanted alive, so instead of tearing out the man’s larynx, he spotted the shotgun he’d swatted aside earlier and dove for it. He snatched up the shotgun as he transformed back into his human form and spun, shoving the barrel directly under the large man’s jaw.

  “One fucking move,” Diego growled. “Please give me a reason.”

  The man’s wild eyes took him in, still fierce at first, but then the fight faded.

  “Way to take him down,” Felix approached with a smile. “Always better without clothes, I always say.”

  Diego looked down at his nudity and cursed. “I need to get some stretch clothes that convert with me, like a superhero.”

  “If you must.” He shrugged. He was about to turn back…KA-BOOM! A cannon ball ripped right through him, leaving a gaping hole where his stomach had been.

  “MOTHERF…” Felix collapsed.

  “Ahhh!” Diego shouted as he slammed the shotgun into the face of the man below him and then dropped it to drag Felix out of the line of fire. “GET THE CANNON!”

  Weres and vampires surged up the hill where the shot must have come from and already Diego heard rifles going off. The soldier must’ve gone around and started an assault on this second, unnoticed base of defense.

  Lesson learned, Diego told himself, stashing Felix at the back of a shed. He looked at the hole and cringed, wondering what it would take to heal from that.