Torch Song: A Kickass Heroine, A Post-Apocalyptic World: Book One Of The Blackjack Trilogy (31 page)

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Authors: Shelley Singer

Tags: #post-apocalyptic, #Thriller, #Suspense, #Mystery, #New World, #near future, #scifi thriller, #Science Fiction, #spy fiction, #Tahoe, #casino, #End of the World

BOOK: Torch Song: A Kickass Heroine, A Post-Apocalyptic World: Book One Of The Blackjack Trilogy
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So whatever each of them was doing, whatever each was thinking about me, I needed to look so innocent that mere suspicion would drift away. And hope there was nothing more to it than that. The chief’s behavior worried me the most.

But it was the message from Newt that really stunned me.

“When Hannah comes back, you be ready to help her or I’m not paying you. And oh yes,” he cackled, “first you may have to talk her out of killing you. She doesn’t like that you took her job.”

When Hannah comes back? Killing me? I was in no mood to deal with his craziness. I called the chief again. She wasn’t answering. I left a few words. “Possible you may be covering the whole tab now.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ours. Theirs. Mine.

The chief called a couple of hours after I’d gone to bed.

“What did you mean by your message? About the tab?”

“Newt seems to be blaming me for Hannah’s leaving. Says she’s going to kill me. I’m thinking he doesn’t want to pay me.”

“Didn’t you say he told you to join the Coleman army? Did he recant on that?”

“No.”

“I talked to him last night. He’s still in. Just very, very burned. Panicky. He was relying on Hannah.” She hesitated. Cleared her throat. “I think you should consider dropping this whole thing. Take the money you’ve made. Get out while you can. I would have no problem with that.”

“Because of Hannah? Not a chance.” I could handle that woman. My pride wouldn’t let me run from her. Awfully nice of the chief, though. Too nice.

Again, there was that silence. “What are you not telling me, Graybel?”

“Just watch your backside.”

“Even when you’re behind me?”

“Yes.” And she was gone.

Okay, a tox-bomb didn’t have to fall on me. My best guess: the Colemans had found out something, she knew it, and she was afraid to cross them.

Yes. I was sure. That was the only conclusion I could come to, with the puzzle pieces glued. Glued by her obvious and sudden step-back. Come to think of it she had just given me another important bit of information. She’d told me not to trust her, which meant I never should, or would, again. My only consolation— it was 3 a.m. She wasn’t sleeping too well.

So the people I was spying on knew more about me than was safe. One of my bosses wouldn’t mind if I was murdered, and the other one was hiding dangerous information.

I still had the attractive option of hopping into Electra and scooting away from this mess. But I felt nowhere near finished. Those Rockies wheeling around my turf had me scared to death, even more scared than I was of what the chief wasn’t telling me. Redwood needed to stay the way it was. Independent from the Colemans, and from Rocky too. I didn’t think there was much I could do about Rocky with the Colemans standing in the middle doing god knew what, so I had to deal with them first.

If I did manage to get real evidence against them before I ran out of time, what would I do with what I learned? Take it to the Sierra Council? They could already be in the Coleman pocket, like the chief. Take it to Redwood? Redwood didn’t have an army and none of the chiefs there had ever sent me to spy on another country. I’d need a lot of proof that there was a threat from Sierra before they’d even agree to be suspicious.

And I wasn’t feeling too great about my skills as a merc. I’d turned in a miserable performance that day. Maybe the worst ever. But it was the only way I knew to stay alive.

And I wondered how alive I’d stay running around Tahoe with a target on my back.

* * *

Drew was dressing for the day’s training. He was also stewing about Jo and Rica. He didn’t hate either one of them, he was just upset. He’d been busy dealing with Lizzie and Billy and the Hannah issue, but the sight of Jo and Rica together had come back to haunt him at night, all week long.

Of course. It was going to be either Samm or Jo, if not both of them. Why had he ever thought she could be interested in him? He was just a kid to her. He’d been stupid, getting all messy. He knew what his mother would say— hell, he knew what Jo would say. “Find a nice girl your own age.”

Shit. There were maybe five or six dozen girls anywhere close to his age living in and around Tahoe, and most of them were dumb. Or taken. Or not his type. He’d dated some of them and at best he’d been bored. Maybe what he needed to do was go someplace bigger. Just get the hell out of Tahoe. Sacramento was too small. San Francisco. Somewhere in the whole Bay Area there must be someone who would make him feel the way Rica did. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to hang around anyway. Not sure his mother and Jo were right about things.

But if they succeeded, they’d own the Bay Area, too, along with the rest of Redwood. Not like he could get away from his family by heading west. His head was beginning to hurt.

East, then? No, certainly not to Rocky. North to Olympia? Seattle had more than a thousand people. That might work.

Oh, who was he kidding. Who’d watch out for Lizzie? He had a duty to his mother, too. And to Samm. And, he guessed, Jo. She kept telling him he was a born leader, a man who would govern, like his mother.

Maybe Rica would get tired of Jo, or Jo would get all tangled up in her head and forget about Rica. He hadn’t seen them together since that night. Maybe in a couple of years, Rica would see him as a man. He sighed. A couple of years.

Running away like a dumb little kid… it still sounded appealing, he had to admit. But it wouldn’t solve anything.

* * *

I was there, at the back door, at seven that morning. Samm showed up a couple of minutes later. He was wearing the clothing I’d seen him in when I’d spied on the training. Heavy denim pants, khaki work shirt, boots. Nothing like his casino-dandy clothes. I noticed that there were dark roots at the base of his blond stripes, and wondered what he’d look like if his hair grew out. I had for some reason always seen him as a blond man with olive skin, even though I knew it wasn’t the case.

He looked me over. I was wearing tough, protective clothing, too. He nodded his approval. Did he think I’d come in a sequined dress? He put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a quick hug. Would he have done that if I were under suspicion? Maybe he was a better actor than I was.

Zack walked up, carrying a sack that clanked. Guns, probably. “We ready?”

“Drew’s coming with us.” And as Samm said it, Drew, his arm still wrapped in bandages but swinging freely, strode toward us. He was looking very serious. Older, somehow. He nodded.

“Good morning, Rica.”

“Good morning, Drew.” Wow. He was getting more formal with me all the time. I caught myself hoping it wouldn’t be too long before we could be comfortable with each other again, and realized that might never happen. Now I also had to worry whether his stiffness came from his crush on me or from knowing that I was a spy.

Drew, Zack and I went out the door after Samm, following him to his floater. Zack and Samm seemed cheerful, eager. Drew sat silently beside me, looking out the window.

“How’s your arm, Drew?”

“Good.” He seemed to gather himself up, make his shoulders broader. “I was surprised when Samm said you’d be going with us today.”

“Well, those Rockies… we’re awfully close to their border here.”

Zack looked back at us from his seat beside Samm. “At least that bunch that came to town is out of here, now.”

I’d heard that from Fredo the day before. “Good thing,” I said.

He nodded. “Frank told them if they talked, he’d take them to the border instead of kill them. So they talked.”

“What’d they say?”

“All I heard is that they admitted they were spies and that Rocky was planning an invasion. And that it’ll all be in the paper today.” He grinned. “Iggy even interviewed Samm about it. Prominent citizen Samm Bakar…”

My stomach sank. Was this true? An invasion? Oh shit. Why did Zack look so cheerful about it?

“I don’t understand why he’d let them go then,” I said.

Drew shrugged. “We try not to kill people here.” That was reassuring. Was it true? And what did “try” mean?

“Besides,” Zack added, “trials cost money and take time and we never execute anyone without a trial.”

Abruptly, then, Drew changed the subject.

“Isn’t it going to be tough on you, Rica, doing this? You work so late every night.”

“Waldo says he’ll take me off the second shift in a couple of days. As soon as they can schedule the replacement. Then I’ll be doing two shows and finishing earlier.” Not much earlier. Probably by midnight.

Waldo had told me he’d found a server himself this time. Said it with a sneer. Guess he decided he didn’t want to work with another one of Judith’s choices, like me.

“Good. That’s good.” Drew turned to look out the window again.

* * *

“So, Jo. What are we going to do about our singing spy?” The sisters were having breakfast together in Judith’s office.

“Good question.”

Judith shook her head, her striped curls bobbing. “The chief should tell her what you said.”

Jo knew what Judith meant. They’d always thought Graybel was a good cop. If Rica was hers and Scorsi’s, the decent thing for the chief to do was let Rica know the Colemans knew she was a spy. “If she tells her, she tells her. If Rica disappears, well, that’s that.” She didn’t want her to leave.

“I’m not sure I’m thinking clearly enough about all this, Judith. I have to admit, I like Rica.”

“I do, too, but I suspect you mean a different kind of ‘like’ than I do.” Judith smiled. “Here’s some clearer thinking, then: She’s a merc. That means she’s not ideologically opposed to what we’re doing, she’s just in it for the reals. Which means she can, possibly, be turned. A better solution than shooting her, given your feelings.” Not so much a smile as a smirking challenge, Jo thought. Still the irritating big sister.

“The hell with my feelings. She’d be an asset.”

“You don’t have to convince me.”

“Samm says she came to him about joining the army. He took her with them today. I told him, spy or not, we don’t have much hope of keeping the army a secret after Hannah, anyway. So I said let’s give her a little field test as a soldier. Just don’t give her a gun.”

Judith laughed. “It might be best, for now, not to mention any of this to the kids. Lizzie’s been pretty emotional lately.”

Lizzie, yes, but Drew? “I can’t help but think Drew should know, Judith. He’s taking on a lot of adult jobs these days. He seems to be friends with Rica, too.”

“Well… I’ll think about it.” Judith tapped her index finger nail on the Blackjack snow globe. The white stuff swirled. “She’s smart, Jo. Even if the chief says nothing, I think she’s going to figure it out.”

* * *

The ride in Samm’s floater was a lot smoother than the one I’d taken in my own ground car to this same spot a week ago. Samm pulled into the trees. We all climbed out and he tarped the floater. I could see other cars tucked into the foliage here and there, some across the road. I caught myself before I started marching down the path. I wasn’t supposed to know where I was going. Samm led the way, Zack after him, then Drew, then me, at the rear. Fitting behavior for a newcomer, bringing up the rear.

The few dozen people I’d seen in this clearing the last time were all there already— except for Hannah, of course, and a couple of dealers who showed up right behind us. Samm walked around talking to people, slapping a few backs. Monte, looking pale and depressed, as usual, pawed through the bag of guns, as he had the first time, nodded something that looked like approval, and handed them back to Zack, who passed them out. He didn’t give me one. Either guns had to be earned or word had been passed down that I couldn’t be trusted with firepower. Then it occurred to me that this would be a really good way to get rid of a spy: an “accident” on the mock battlefield. I pushed that thought away. What was I going to do, spend the whole day hiding behind a tree?

* * *

Drew stood chatting with the two dealers. One of them, the blond-and-red-striped young woman with swimmer’s shoulders and an athletic stance— Emmy, that was her name— was looking at him, I thought, with something more than camaraderie. I was thinking about joining them when I noticed he seemed to be flirting back, and decided not to cramp his style. Although I thought she was a little old for him. She must have been twenty-five.

Zack was folding the now-empty weapons bag. I was about to approach him, see if I could get him into a chat, when Samm sauntered to the middle of the clearing and held up his hands.

“Let’s start with a little easy hand-to-hand. Half an hour. Pick an opponent. After that, we’ll do some shooting. Then we’ll split into teams for the war games. I’ve got a detailed plan here for orange team. Black team will have to deal with that, find a way to outmaneuver them. So—” He grinned “—black will be competing against orange— and me. The scarves are in the hut. We’ll pass them out after target practice.”

He was just starting to say something about the hand-to-hand when the woods behind him erupted into screams, howls, yells, ululations and a mob broke through into the clearing, men and women waving guns, knives, and clubs, and knocking down everyone in their path. At first I thought it might be a surprise part of Samm’s game plan.

But it definitely was not. Near the front of this mob, or army, or whatever it was, Hannah Karlow ran, waving a gun in her left hand and a sword in her right, heading straight for Samm. Newt had said she was planning to kill me, but Samm seemed to be first on her list.

I ran toward Samm as he turned to face her, but veered off and looked for someone else to help when I saw that Zack was already at his side.

The blond dealer was standing wide-eyed near the hut, her focus shifting all over the place, a sword dangling from her limp hand. She looked confused, as I’d been for a moment, and she was acting like she thought this was, truly, a war game and nobody had given her the rules. An ugly muscle-bound hairball of a man was galloping right at her, in his hand a club studded with spikes.

Drew was running toward her, but he was farther away than I was.

“Emmy!” He was yelling. “Emmy! This is real! Run!” I heard gunshots, laser-hisses, and one shot burned close by my right ear. Weaponless, I grabbed a spear I spotted leaning against a tree and aimed myself at the attacking toxie. I’d never held a spear in my hand before and I knew I couldn’t throw one hard enough or accurately enough to kill him even at close range. So I ran between him and Emmy, hoping he’d be slower with that club than I was with the spear, and shoved it through his chest, blood gushing and drenching my right arm and shoulder.

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