Defending the Lost

by Justin Sloan

  “How about I start you off with the shoes.” She glanced at the clouds, which were slowly rolling into the city. “If we hurry, we can make it and still have time for that glass of wine.”

  “Oh, but…you can’t drink, right?” She glanced at Sandra’s belly.

  “No, I wouldn’t want to risk it with the baby, but people say mixed things on the topic. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the look of pleasure on your face when you have a glass, though.”

  “Hey, you want to live vicariously through me? I’m your gal.”

  Sandra made to stand, but Platea beat her to it and held out a hand.

  “Thank you.” The woman heaved Sandra to her feet. “It’s amazing how some days I feel like I could take on the world, but others I’m just beat.”

  “Welcome to the world of motherhood.” Platea wrapped her arm in Sandra’s to support her. Sandra didn’t need it, but appreciated it nonetheless. In truth, she enjoyed the closeness of another body. She didn’t normally feel this needy, but the pregnancy was playing with her emotions and Diego was off to war, or whatever he was up at the moment, and she wasn’t herself.

  Soon they were at Sandra’s favorite shoe vendor, and had just found a pair and paid the man when the raindrops started. Gusts of wind had already started blowing over the shop sign, and the old woman running the place called to her husband to help her put everything away.

  “Enjoy the shoes, Miss,” the husband offered before locking up and taking off with his wife.

  It seemed like everyone was running for cover, knowing how these storms could get. As Sandra led her new friend to the café, she had images of the storm when they had taken down Donovan and his gang. It seemed like ages ago, but it really hadn’t been much time at all.

  The café was packed. A table in the back was free, but as they made their way to it someone called Platea’s name. They turned to see Clara, Loraine, and Jackson.

  “This is too weird.” Sandra shook her head as she walked over. Not long before Valerie had been dating Jackson, and he had even played a role in the inner circle at HQ. Now he was a random friend they ran into at the café, apparently.

  “We can get our own table,” Platea told her, having to almost shout above the crowd, who was noisily excited about the storm.

  She shook her head. That was Platea’s daughter there; how awkward would that be?

  So they sat, and Sandra went over and grabbed some wine and croissants. Apparently they were doing better than usual because a shipment had come in, unaffected by pirates. If this was going to be the way of it going forward, the city could really thrive.

  “Hey, aren’t you the lady who shot the terrorist?” a man asked, looking at her as she finished setting down the wine.

  “Terrorist?” she asked.

  “In the square the other day. You know, the one in all black, dressed like the Enforcer Ninjas.”

  “Enforcer Ninjas?” she looked at the people at her table, perplexed.

  “That’s what we call your black-garbed fighters. But that one, we saw…yeah, it was you! Hey everyone, this is the lady who shot that terrorist guy in the square! If it weren’t for you, those two Enforcer Ninjas never would’ve caught him!”

  “Well, I don’t know about—”

  “Three cheers for… What was your name?”

  “That’s Sandra,” the waitress informed him with a wink. “She owns this place.”

  “You don’t say?” He lifted his wine glass high, and everyone else did the same with their wine, water, or coffee. “Three cheers for Sandra, the hero who takes down terrorists and brings us the best food in all of New York!”

  The café erupted in applause and cheers, people toasting her and smiling. It was all a bit overwhelming, so she had a seat, drank some water, and waved a thank you at everyone.

  “You are really something.” Platea took a sip of her wine. The expression on her face was worth all the embarrassment.

  “We’re all just trying to survive,” Sandra replied.

  She took a bite of the potato salad the waitress had brought, then had some more water while listening to Clara tell her mother all about her day helping others. She couldn’t help but wonder how this girl had been a pirate only a few days prior.

  The back door burst open, causing a bang in the kitchen, and a moment later Diego came rushing in. He was drenched but seemingly all in one piece, much to Sandra’s relief.

  She bolted up and they met each other, embracing. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

  “Felix is in bad shape,” Diego answered. “But we took out the first encampment and two more on the way back, thanks to our new source. The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking of you. How are you and the baby?”

  “Yes, we’re good. Great, even.”

  She beamed, turning to introduce him to her new friends. They wanted to know all about what had happened, but he left out the gory details.

  “The main point,” he went on, “is that we have what we need. Soon we’ll know where all these indies are, where to strike. We’re going to send a team to meet up with Terry Henry Walton and the FDG, brief them on what we’ve learned. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have this whole continent squared away before too long.”

  He reached over and took Sandra’s hand, holding it gently, his smile full of all the excitement she felt bubbling inside. But she saw worry there too, worry for his friend Felix.

  “We’ll go visit him,” she leaned in and whispered, “as soon as this storm lets up.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’d like that.”

  “So it’s over then?” Clara asked, glancing over at Sandra. “That man they were talking about, he was the one I pointed out?”

  Sandra nodded. “You must’ve seen him when he was traveling around. Seems he was a sort of recruiter for some group up north.”

  “Wait, what happened?” Diego looked at her, eyes full of worry.

  “We found another traitor in our midst, thanks to Clara here.” Sandra smiled. “One from Toro.”

  “Probably good for him we took him down before he got home to find Val doling out justice.”

  They all laughed.

  “It’s time to spread the word,” Diego banged his fist on the table as if issuing a proclamation, “that those days are behind us. That the indies, the old ways of the Golden City—all of it!—are behind us. We’re going to send such a loud message to these jerks who think they can stand against us that their eardrums will explode. And if they still stand against us?” He took a swig of Sandra’s water, pausing for effect. “Well, tell ’em Diego’s coming.”

  Sandra cheered at this and the others joined her. The rest of the café, while not knowing what was happening, echoed the cheer regardless, causing Sandra and her companions to burst into joyous laughter, while the rain and winds beat down upon Capital Square just outside.

  With windows rattling out there and joy within, Sandra felt at peace. Maybe there really was a chance this world would be a better place by the time her baby came into it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Old Canada

  Days spent on patrol were starting to grate on Cammie, and she knew it wasn’t much better for Royland. Taking the ships out onto the water had its moments, and there was nothing quite like the wind in her hair. Out there the clean air in her lungs was new, fresh. On occasion they would spot old ships and even airplanes downed in the waters, like an ancient burial ground that wasn’t so ancient.

  What had it been? A little over a hundred and fifty years since all of this had been operational, and now…nothing. Thinking back on it like that, she imagined her great-grandparents or those before them who had lived through that time, a time when people actually sailed through the air in those planes.

  Though now that she thought of it, people these days were actually flying in spaceships, if what Michael had told Valerie was accurate.

  It made her shudder, the craziness of it all, but also the thought of being up there, being part of it. What
other types of technology did they have that she couldn’t even fathom? Hell, that her great-grandparents, even in the hay-day of technology during which they had lived, probably couldn’t have imagined.

  Riding out there on the waves, she had made a decision—if Valerie was going to space, she was going to do her damned best to make sure she and Royland went too.

  Then there were days like this where she was on an airship flying over patches of desert and patches of green in the heat, only the cool breeze from being high in the air keeping her sane.

  At least she could walk around in the daylight, unlike Royland. And if she got a bit sunburned she would just heal from it, which gave her an advantage over William and the rest.

  This was the first day they had taken Kristof with them. None of the land patrols had led to any discoveries or interactions anyway, so she figured it would be good training. Plus, she wanted William to teach him about sailing, both on water and in the air, in case the boy needed something to fall back on. In case they never found his home.

  Watching the two of them, she knew Kristof would be a natural. He was young, sure, so he didn’t have the strength of the other sailors, but when he was told to pull a rope or hold the course, he made no mistakes.

  One of the women relieved a guy at his post, and he came over and sat beside Cammie. His shirt was off, sweat gleaming on his solid dark-skinned chest. When he smiled at her, she noticed he was good looking and found it humorous that she didn’t have the slightest bit of attraction toward him.

  Damn, Royland really had gotten to her.

  “Everything going according to plan?” the man asked.

  She nodded, suddenly feeling like the world’s biggest jerk for not remembering his name. He had definitely told it to her before, but her mind was drawing a blank.

  “It’s Derryl,” he told her with a chuckle. “The name, I know. Hey, if I’d just waltzed into a new community and suddenly become the leader I’d have a hard time with everyone’s names too.”

  “Thanks, Derryl.”

  “I mean, I’d probably do way better than you at remembering names, but the point is that I get it.”

  “Thanks, Derryl.” This time she said it in a tone she hoped conveyed that she wouldn’t mind being left alone, but he just laughed.

  “Honestly, I’m impressed. William there, he was a tough nut under the old regime. Now you come along, and he sees something in you he always hoped for. Something old Edward always lacked.”

  “Edward?”

  “Shit, girl. You didn’t know?” Derryl wiped the sweat from his forehead and held out his hand.

  Cammie stared at it, confused, until he nodded to the other side of her where the canteens of water were. She handed him one and said, “Sorry. Know what?”

  “The Prince named himself after the island. He thought he was clever, but I thought he was being a douche. Never said that to his face though, or I wouldn’t be talking to such a pretty lady right now.”

  “Watch the flirting, or you won’t be doing it for long. Royland gets a tad jealous.” She wasn’t sure if that was true, but she liked the idea of it being so. “Word gets back to him you were schmoozing me, paying me compliments while half-naked, I don’t know…”

  Derryl inched away with his free hand up as he took another swig of water. “Don’t bite. I’m just being friendly.”

  Maybe she could buy that.

  “What do you want then?”

  “Like I said, just playing nice.” He handed her the water, but she declined. “If you’re as cool as you say you are, I want to know upfront. Call me crazy, but I like to know whose hands I’m putting my life in.”

  She nodded, liking this guy more now. “To answer your question, it’s a bit early to tell, but yes. We haven’t had any violence since we made an example of those bastards who were hiding Kristof, and it’s probably a good sign that we haven’t found anyone on these patrols.”

  “I’m not following how that’s good. Isn’t the point to find them?”

  She nodded. “But if they’ve all moved on, maybe because they heard of us, that is good.”

  “Ah.”

  He looked up then, alert, and she followed his line of sight to William, who had gone to the side of the ship and was shielding his eyes to see better.

  “Smoke,” Derryl noted, but she had already seen it and was up now too.

  “I need two of you to stay on the ship with Kristof,” she ordered. “The rest will come with me. Put us down close enough to let them see us, but not be able to shoot at the balloon. We’re not going to want to hike out of here.”

  Kristof turned to her with a scowl, but said nothing. Of course he wanted to go with them, to see the action. That didn’t mean he was ready, and no way was Cammie going to put him in jeopardy.

  They noticed a group of people as they got closer, more than she would have expected. The smoke carried the scent of burning wood, but no meat. Considering that it was hot and the middle of the day, she knew what was happening before they had disembarked.

  Whatever their intentions, these people knew of them and wanted to chat.

  Fine, let them say their piece.

  Leaving the ship behind, she glanced back and gave Kristof a wave. It was a sign of appreciation for his understanding. He waved back, standing there with his two guards.

  From the group of strangers, one man strode forward.

  Considering this, she motioned for her group to halt, and then continued to meet the man in the middle ground. She couldn’t help but notice how similar this felt to what she had heard the old days of battle were like.

  The man came to a stop, and so did she. He was tall, though not particularly muscular. His hair was wavy and he wore a mustache, and there was a pleasant look in his eyes in spite of the scar that ran from his jaw to his mouth, which sort of offset any comfort the eyes gave.

  A thought hit her—that man, the one she had seen on the mainland, staring at the island. Now that she thought about it, she was pretty damn sure this was him.

  “Why do I have the feeling I’ve been summoned?” Cammie asked him, nodding to the smoke, then turning to assess the crowd beyond him. More men, not a single woman among them. Interesting.

  “I thought about trying a conjuring but didn’t really know how, so I figured this was the next best thing.” The man’s mouth twitched as if he were trying to smile, but then gave up.

  “A conjuring? Like… Oh, this is good. Like you think I’m a witch?”

  He scowled. “We’ve heard the stories.”

  “You’ve heard them wrong, man.” She let her eyes flash yellow and lifted a hand, letting her claws grow. “Werewolf. No dark magic involved, as a matter of fact.”

  His eyes went wide but the rest of his face refused to show the terror she knew he was feeling. He had likely come into this skeptical that she was anything other than a normal human. Judging by the fact that he had taken her for a witch, he had probably never come across members of the UnknownWorld, Were or vampire.

  She kind of wished she had played the role for a bit, but oh well. The wolf was out of the bag now.

  “I showed you my dirty secret.” She returned to normal so as not to make him piss himself. “Now what’s yours?”

  He bit his lip, then began, “The locals don’t like your presence around here. We were doing just fine before you came along, and we’d be glad to see you go.”

  “Can’t do that,” she replied.

  “And if we make you?”

  She laughed, stopped to see if he was serious, then laughed again. “Listen, little guy. I’m sure you all are tough as nails. I mean, you’ve got the mustache to prove it. But if a single one of you comes our way carrying a weapon… Well, do I have to spell it out for you? Remember, Werewolf here.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to where one of his men had stepped forward. In his hand were the leashes of a pack of snarling dogs. One barked at her. Two men nearby revealed crude clubs.

  “This is
n’t a negotiation,” the man informed her. “We’ve come together to deal with this right here. Right now.”

  She put her hands to her mouth, trying to control her breathing and keep herself from leaping on the guy to tear his heart out. With a deep breath, she remarked, “We have kicked out the pirates. We have made our island peaceful, and now you come at me with threats?”

  “I’m telling an outsider that she has one chance to promise she’ll be gone by nightfall, or she and her friends die today.”

  Fury rose up within her, yet she held herself back. “To be clear… I have to ask this. Did you just threaten not only me, but these men and women?”

  The man nodded.

  “To be extra-clear, I’ll tell you there is a small boy aboard my ship. Him too?”

  Again the man nodded. “Leave now, or my dogs will tear that boy’s face right off.”

  “You mother-fucking dick-fart piece of lobster shit!” The anger was boiling up; it was too much now. A threat to her was one thing, but to her friends? To that boy?! Hell. No.

  When the man pulled a pistol from the holster that had been concealed by his leather jacket, she was all too pleased to attack.

  With a sidestep she caught his arm, then moved into him with her forearm raised so that it turned the pistol back onto the man. Before he knew what had happened she had slid her arm along his, taken the pistol, and jammed it into his mouth.

  Her leg caught his behind the knee and she pushed him down, twisting him so he faced his own people, gun still in his mouth.

  “NOW LISTEN HERE!” she shouted. “This man threatened me and mine, so he will serve as a lesson to you. Surrender, or you all die. Just. Like. Him.”

  BOOM!

  The shot from the pistol rang out, blood and brains splattering across the brown earth, and the man’s body fell over.

  A moment of silence followed, then a shout rose from the group. Half of them hadn’t been sure to begin with, it seemed, since they took off running. The other half came charging right for her, including the man with the dogs.

  Dammit, she thought, preparing herself. She hated the idea of hurting dogs.