A post-apocalyptic swamp is just as noisy as a pre-apocalyptic swamp, the difference being that the chirrs chirp, and locust rattles have a deeper base, as if the insects and reptiles behind the sounds are ten times bigger than their old-school cousins. Or it might be my imagination was running away with me, but that was my first impression of the swamp that fed the river that flowed through the Quarterz, down to the Wastelands and out to the gulf beyond.
The mutated vegetation and heavy green mists of the swamp were creepy. A great place to hide. With each step I could feel the slither of unseen reptiles moving like breath, in and out of tangled vines around me. I was about twelve feet from where I left the boat when the brush in front of me exploded and the world turned upside down.
It stayed upside down while I swung back and forth in a net, like a pendulum on a clock.
As usual I was here more to hide from my real life than to hide from hunters. As usual I was doing a great job with the first goal and a lousy one with the second.
Vegetation squished and popped under the weight of an approaching predator.
Could anything that sounded that big be human? I sniffed the air for a clue but the smell of skunk cabbage and stagnant water masked everything else. The guy emerging from the trees was Sasquatch big, but a whole lot better looking.
Makes you wonder-if the swamp grows guys that much bigger, what does that say about the crickets? Don" t want to know? Me either.
His skin was a creamy brown, just the shade I liked my coffee. His hair was a jungle of waist-length braids. He wore camo shorts, combat boots and the usual hunter-type utility belt.
He cut me down without a word. I closed my eyes, braced myself for the leash and the dizzying spin that would follow when he launched off to whatever his favorite spot for partaking in prey might be.
Neither happened. I opened my eyes again. He didn" t look pleased.
“A new girl.” The way he said it you" d think he" d netted a big cricket instead of me.
He turned away and did some stuff with the ropes to reset his trap.
“What" s wrong with new girls?” I inched quietly toward the right while he had his back to me. He wasn" t watching me. I was watching him instead of where I was going.
My ankle hit another trip rope and I was back in the air.
It was really nice of him to cut me loose again instead of just walking away. It was even nicer that he didn" t answer my question.
“I guess I shouldn" t throw back a beautiful girl who jumps into my nets twice,” he said, helping me to my feet. “We can go have sex if you want.” Imagine this. With an invitation like that to tempt me, I didn" t want. The guy knew how to shred a girl" s confidence.
“You don" t have to.” I dusted myself off, gave the trip ropes a wide berth and stomped toward the waiting jungle.
He caught up to me in one stride, grabbing my wrist. “I didn" t hear you safe-out and I don" t recall saying you could go.”
A familiar quiver stirred in the pit of my stomach. I didn" t see an answering gleam in his eye.
“Look. You were obviously hoping for someone special. No big deal. I really just wanted to find a place away from hunters where I could practice.”
“I wasn" t expecting anyone special…”
“Someone less klutzy then?”
He finally smiled. “Someone not as easy as you.” I gaped. Hunters tended to say whatever they were thinking, but that was cold.
“I don" t mean that the way you" re taking it.” He touched my chin. I closed my mouth. “I mean I like the chase. I like when prey keeps me on my toes, surprises me.
You" ve got a little sass, though. I might keep you a bit.”
“It" s hard to learn any good moves when you wind up under a hunter within five minutes of landing in the Quarterz.” I pointed to the little dagger I" d hooked to my belt.
“I came here to practice some.”
He let go of my wrist, plucked a vine tendril from my hair. “You" re very beautiful.
Exotic. I" m not surprised they take advantage of you while you are too new to fend them off.”
I ducked my head, couldn" t think of a response to that.
“What" s your name?”
I bit my lip, kept my eyes on my bare feet.
“I" m Grizz.” He offered a hand.
“Snatch Me,” I mumbled. His hand swallowed mine when I shook it.
“Don" t look so embarrassed. It" s a good name. You just need the skills to make it a wish instead of a given.”
“Care to be my tutor?”
“Hmm.” He caught my hair in his hand, coiled it around his fist. He was looking me over, really looking. This time the look didn" t make me feel like a cricket.
“That" s not how it works, girl,” he said when he completed his study. “I caught you. That makes you mine. Doesn" t make me anything of yours. You want to be an apprentice-I might allow it. But you think about that a second. I" m not going to make it easy.”
“You hate easy.”
“I do.”
“Me too.”
Grizz harrumphed, gave me another looking over and reached for his leash. “You prove worth all this trouble, I might let you level up, party with a real hunter instead of the wannabes they have over there in the Quarterz.”
“Uh, I" ll do my best.”
“I" ll put the leash to roam, that leaves you free to move around.” It closed around my neck and went invisible, but I could still feel the pressure, like fingers prepared to tighten.
“The leash keeps other hunters from snatching,” he said, emphasizing the word,
“you, but it doesn" t let you get more than twenty feet from me.” He took my dagger from my belt and tossed it, sending it in an arc across the clearing with his traps and out to the river. It disappeared with a watery plunk.
“You don" t want that useless piece of crap. Let" s get you some proper weapons.” He started into the swamp and I had to jog to keep up with those long ground-eating strides of his. When I fell too far behind, the leash supplied incentive to catch up.
Proper weapons turned out to be a bow and arrows, which he made for me while he explained how to get around the common tricks hunters employed. I got shooting lessons. And since you have to hit a hunter with five arrows before you disable him, and since it" s hard to aim that good when you" re running to stay out of leash range, he made me a little blow gun and described a strategy.
“You hit him with an arrow and you fall down. Then when he moves in to grab you, hit him with the dart. That" ll knock him out for five minutes. Plenty of time to get to cover. You don" t ever use one of those little fuckers on me. Got it?” I nodded, knew my eyes were big as saucers. This was not someone I dared to cross.
After I could demonstrate reasonable skill with the weapons, things got physical.
And no, it wasn" t that kind of physical.
I had to learn to use a scaling rope, which has a hooklike anchor thing on the end-
good for climbing trees or walls or fences. He put me through drills that made boot camp look like kindergarten. He kept me at it for hours.
When the green swamp mists deepened to a smoggier color with the fading light, Grizz took me to his place-a platform high in an old tree. Dinner was fruit and cheese.
He cut small pieces with his knife and fed me tidbits, popping them into my mouth with his fingers. I stretched out on my back beside him, almost too tired to chew, hoping he wasn" t going to make good on the promise to show me what it was like to be had by a real hunter.
“A grateful girl would be licking my fingers clean after each bite.” He crushed a grape between his fingers, rubbed it over my lips. I opened my mouth, caught his fingers in my teeth. Our eyes met. That quivering feeling came back, only located lower down this time. Maybe I wasn" t too tired after all.
Waster killed the mood by materializing on the platform beside us.
Grizz looked from me to Waster. “You didn" t tell me Waster had claimed you for his, girl.”
I sat up. “He didn" t.”
“Was he your first?”
I nodded.
Grizz grabbed my shirt, a sleeveless, button-down type that I" d tied just above my navel to allow some air circulation. Grizz added more circulation by ripping it from the top of my right shoulder down the back. One of his fingers traced a zigzag pattern.
The space between Grizz and Waster had gone electric with bad mood rising.
“Why doesn" t she know she" s yours? Where" s her collar?” I was connecting dots…zigzag pattern…W…Waster?
“That" s not your business, Grizz. She" s wearing my mark. I give her some freedom, but she" s mine to take away if I choose. I choose.”
I twisted around, tried to see over my shoulder, which of course I couldn" t.
“You marked her and she doesn" t know it?”
“It" s my business what she knows and doesn" t. My business if she wears a collar.” Grizz stood, towering above Waster. “There" s limits, Waster. Rules we don" t break.
You set most of them yourself. Lines that can" t be crossed, because not everything that happens here stays here. You cross one of those lines when you don" t tell her that mark lets you keep track of where she is, lets you drop in when she" s with someone. You cross a line when you don" t collar her so everyone knows right off whose girl they are playing with.”
“Don" t tell me how I should look after her.”
They were getting ready to fight. It was about me, but they acted as if I wasn" t there. Waster deserved a smack upside the head for not telling me he could find me like that. But it was one thing to have a battle between the sexes, to blow off steam with tussling and hot sex. This kind of fighting was something else.
“Don" t worry about it, Grizz,” I said. “I" ll go with him.” Waster took the leash from his belt. But when he snapped it nothing happened.
“Unleash her, Grizz.”
Grizz" s hands stayed on his hips.
Waster was scowling. “Aside from the fact she" s mine, she stole my boat.” That broke some kind of ice. Grizz laughed out loud.
“A wicked little hacker, is she?” He slapped his knee. “You cyber hot-wired Waster" s boat? That ain" t playing fair, little girl.” It hadn" t been easy, took two hours worth of coding and was completely against the rules.
“Who said this was supposed to be fair?”
He slapped my back hard enough to dislocate some joints. The band around my neck melted away as Grizz said, “Maybe you don" t need me to stick up for you.”
Waster didn" t look as if he was as amused by my cleverness as Grizz was. I knew he would be less amused by my next move, but any minute that leash was going to settle around my neck, so I didn" t have a choice. I had the little bamboo tube in my hand, behind my back, had loaded the dart when I thought they might fight. Waster stepped past Grizz and toward me, his fingers twitching on that leash. I reacted.
A blue flash, like sheet lightning, momentarily blinded me. When the stars in front of my eyes cleared, Grizz was opposite me with his hand over his heart. Waster was flat on his back at my feet.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T. I saw it in Grizz" s eyes. I might see it in Waster" s eyes when he recovered enough to open them. Then again, respect might not be Waster" s first reaction.
“Sweet,” Grizz said. “Sweetest takedown I ever saw.” His praise was sweet. I" d lost my new-girl cooties. I" d leveled up.
Grizz gave me a high five.
“He" s gonna wear your ass out good when he gets hold of you. Make tracks and stay clear of him until he" s had time to cool off.”
“You won" t fight with him when he wakes up?”
“You worried about Waster?”
I looked down, he looked so defenseless.
“You are. You got a soft spot for the guy.”
“No I don" t.”
“Well, I ain" t gonna hang around and fight him. Just get my ass kicked if I try. He" s one of the originals, one of the best hunters here.” I hesitated.
“Go on, girl. You got maybe three minutes left.” That" s about how long it took me, at top speed, to make it back to the wharf in the Quarterz. I left Waster" s boat where I found it.
The customer on the other side of the counter had the pinched expression most people had when they" d been battling their computer for days, unsuccessfully. Garnet Roberts, he wrote on the service request form. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was wearing a suit that came from high enough up the food chain that Jolie, who rarely picked up on such cues, recognized he must have a platinum-backed bank account to support his wardrobe. How had a guy like that found his way to her? He finished filling out the form and paced back and forth in front of the counter while he shared his computer war story.
“It keeps getting slower and slower. I" ve run every virus and spyware program I can find and come up with nothing.”
Jolie had opened the laptop and gone immediately to safe mode as the computer booted. A quick glance through the system folder revealed the culprit.
“It's a downloader Trojan. That" s a virus that installs itself and then downloads a ton of other malware from the internet. With as many malicious programs as you have running, it" s best to format the drive and reinstall your operating system.
Garnet raked his fingers through the thin remains of his hairline. He looked at his watch and looked at her. “I don" t understand how this happened. I do all the security updates and I keep my antivirus up to date.”
“This particular virus comes through email, usually attached to a message that is faked to look like a message that came from one of the major parcel services.”
“Wonderful.” He looked at his watch again. “I" m staying at the B amp;B just at the edge of town. They recommended you.”
“They" re good people, nice place too-relaxing atmosphere.”
“Mmm.” Another look at the watch. “Well, I" ll just run across the street and grab a cup of coffee while you fix me up. Can I bring you back something?”
“I don" t think you understand. It takes several hours to run through this process.
We" re talking no computer until tomorrow.”
“But I can" t be without my computer that long.” His color rose and she was sure his blood pressure was rising with it. “I have to finish the reports I" m working on tonight. I have a presentation tomorrow morning and a plane to catch at noon.” I heard the soft buzz of a cell set to silent. He flipped it out, texted something with one hand and looked back at me.
“I" m guessing there aren" t any twenty-four-hour print shops in town?”
“Uh, no. There" s actually an ordinance that says businesses can" t operate past eight.”
His right hand, the one holding the phone started to twitch. For a moment he seemed to zone out and then he picked up the conversation right where he" d left it. “I have to get the reports done and to a printer before the shops close. I need my computer to get work done on the plane.”
“I can get the files you need off the computer before I erase the drive. You could take those to Mr. Baily. He has a print shop a couple of blocks down on your right. Your computer will be ready tomorrow if you have time to grab it before you go to the airport.”
The cell pinged and he glanced at the incoming text and then back to her. A light sheen of sweat gleamed on his forehead. Were zillions of dollars hanging in the balance?
“You don" t have a laptop you can sell me?”
“No. I repair computers and carry a few retail accessories. That" s it. The library next door has computers. They might lift the flash drive ban if you gave them a little donation and tell them I scanned the files for viruses.” He kept pacing while he was talking. “It" s going to put me behind, but I don" t have any choice. His phone buzzed and this time he took a call, mouthing, “Thanks for the help.”
The guy looked like he needed a week or two of unplugged, on a tropical island. He was wired, twitchy and his neck was still an unhealthy shade of plum.
“I" ll get this data for you,” she whispered, waving him out. “Go get some coffee.” An herbal tea and yoga break was probably a better prescription than coffee.
Back at her workbench again, she hummed as she pulled the laptop hard drive and popped the lid on the memory compartment. She always pulled the memory to let the power drain off the chips and remove the possibility of memory resident viruses.
Someone came through her door twenty minutes later. She expected Garnet. He didn" t strike her as a guy who could sit still long enough to finish a cup of coffee.
But, no, it was Abe, the delivery guy from Sue" s Florist with a big vase of flowers.
At least two dozen-orange, yellow and purple.
“Hey there, Jolie. Apparently you made some guy really happy.”
“Who?”
“You don't know?”
She shook her head. “If I did it was by accident.” Abe shrugged. “I don" t know him either. He said you would know.” She shook her head again. “I don" t even think I" ve smiled at a guy since I moved to town.”
Abe had a cackly laugh. “Well, you got a big enough smile now, so he must be on to something. He was a nervous guy, in a suit that could pay my mortgage for a year.”
“Ah, that" d be Garnet. He works fast. I haven" t even finished his computer.” Abe plopped the vase on the counter. “Maybe he thought flowers would get him special care.”
“He could have saved his money. Everyone gets my best.” Jolie dug in her pocket and he waved her off.
“The guy already tipped me, sweetie, and I couldn" t take a nickel from you after all the free help you give us over at the shop. Don" t know how you stay in business.” He waved and was out the door before she could argue.
“I don" t know how I stay in business either,” she said when Abe was gone. The money she made form Garnet" s job would help keep the lights on. She was planning to pay the electric bill with it.
She cupped a bright-orange bloom in her palm and inhaled the fragrance. She was standing just like that when Mack blew in.
“Whoa. Looks like someone" s having a good day.”
“But not you, if the scowl is an indicator. What" s up?”
“Sorry, just some minor annoyances I haven" t been able to get a handle on.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “But you" re looking chipper.” Jolie tipped her head to the side, slid a finger over the velvet petal of a yellow rose.
“I guess I am,” she said. “I" ve got work to do. That always puts me in a good mood.”
“Oh. Well, I won" t tie you up then.”
He frowned at the flowers as he backed toward the door. She couldn" t blame him.
Flowers could be irritating when you were in a bad mood already.
“You sure you didn" t need my help with something?”
“No, it" ll keep.” The door banged shut behind him.
Despite the interruptions, Jolie had the laptop drive formatted and the operating system install automated to run overnight before Sienna came by for their run.