Strange Robby (54 page)

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Authors: Selina Rosen

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Strange Robby
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"You love her a lot, don't you?" Robby said, leaning on the same tree she was sitting against.

 

"Yes, I do," Carrie said.

 

"Even though she's an alien?" Robby said.

 

Carrie thought about it a moment. "I love Spider. She's a hybrid, so maybe I love her because she's an alien." Carrie shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

 

"I'm in love with a woman. I hope it won't matter to her, either, but I can't be sure. Of course, who knows whether I'll ever see her again?"

 

"You will." Carrie got up and patted him on the back. "Come on, let's get going. I'm not really afraid of pissing her off, but I'd rather not worry her if I can keep from it."

 

 

 

George looked across his . . . Carrie's desk at Deacon. It was the third time he'd been there that week.

 

"Well?" Deacon asked expectantly.

 

"How many times do I have to tell you, Mr. Deacon? Carrie didn't tell me where she was going. Why, she didn't even tell her parents."

 

"She met Spider Webb somewhere?"

 

"I wouldn't know if that was true. As far as I know Carrie had no idea where Spider was. In fact, I got the impression that the only ones with information about her whereabouts were you guys. To tell the truth, most of us think you guys nabbed her, and that you're just asking us where she is to throw the scent off you."

 

Deacon looked at a spot somewhere behind George. When he looked back at George his expression was hard to read. He may have been angry or worried or just plain tired. "Mr. Parker, if Carrie Long gets in touch with you, will you give her my message?"

 

"I've got it written down right here," George said. "Although I'm sure she'll find it as cryptic as I do."

 

Deacon got up. "Just do it, Georgie boy."

 

George watched him go. He was always glad to see the back of Deacon.

 

Every day he did this job he respected Carrie a little more. Being DA was a tough job under the best of circumstances. A job, quite frankly, that he had never wanted. He was more than happy to be assistant DA. DA carried with it too much stress and responsibility. Add to that Deacon sticking his head in the door every other day, and it was too damn much. He wondered how the hell Carrie had done it.

 

The phone rang and he jumped. He answered it quickly. "Acting DA Parker."

 

"George," Carrie laughed. "You sound like someone just walked over your grave."

 

"Carrie!" he whispered. "Are you all right?"

 

"We're all good. Listen carefully. What I told you to do? Don't do it. Understand?"

 

"Yes, but why?"

 

"Just don't. I've got to go now . . . "

 

"No! Not yet. Deacon has been here; he left a message."

 

"Quick," Carrie said. They could trace a call immediately now, and she wanted to get as far away from the phone as fast as she could on the off chance that the SWTF had men in Weston.

 

"He said to tell Spider Webb that they want to make a deal. That she holds all the cards and they're ready to play the game her way."

 

"I'll give her the message. Be careful, George."

 

 

 

Spider stared down at her squirrel stew. She was still wondering how mad she should be. She was feeling better. In fact, her mind was clear for the first time since the tranq-dart had hit her. She could feel the emotions of those around her again and felt less like a raw nerve.

 

"What's he mean?" Tommy asked. "What kind of deal does he want to make?"

 

"That's a good question," Spider said thoughtfully. She drew in a deep breath and it didn't hurt. She wasn't sure, but she thought she was completely healed. It was funny because she hadn't really felt any better when she lay down that morning.

 

"It's obviously a trap," Carrie said. "A pretty lame one if you ask me."

 

"Not necessarily," Francis said from her place in the corner. They looked at her expectantly, and she shrugged. "The science corps and the security corps are often at odds were policy is concerned."

 

"Like we're ever listening to her," Tommy said.

 

"She's not trying anything," Spider said matter-of-factly. She whispered in Tommy's general direction. "I really wasn't sure what I was doing when I was sick. Apparently I pushed her too much, and something in her brain snapped. She's not capable of lying anymore." She lowered her voice a little more. "She's not all there."

 

"I heard that," Francis said.

 

"See? I told you that playing with people's brains would make them snap," Carrie told Spider scoldingly.

 

Spider looked at her and smiled. Suddenly Carrie looked good. Real good. Spider realized her libido was back—a sure sign that she was healed.

 

Carrie recognized the look in Spider's eyes and smiled seductively back at her, forgetting all about what they were talking about.

 

"Let's . . . ah," Spider got to her feet. "Let's go for a walk."

 

Carrie nodded excitedly, got up and beat her to the door. Mark got up and ran over.

 

"Me too," he said.

 

Spider messed his hair up, and then putting her hand on the top of his head pushed him back. "Not this time, sport. You, ah . . . have to finish your dinner."

 

He grumbled as he went back to his seat.

 

Spider took Carrie's hand and they practically ran out the door.

 

"It's a miracle! It's a miracle! She's healed!" Tommy said waving his arms in the air like a fire and brimstone Baptist preacher on a Sunday morning.

 

"I don't see why I couldn't go," Mark grumbled.

 

"Because they're going diving," Robby laughed.

 

Laura glared at Robby, and then turned to Mark.

 

"Just eat your dinner," Laura said.

 

Mark nodded. "It's hard. I feel sorry for the squirrel," he mumbled as he picked at it.

 

"Don't think about it," Robby said. Then seeing the expression on Mark's face change, he shoved Mark on the shoulder so hard he almost fell off his chair.

 

"Don't do that!" Robby ordered him.

 

"Robby! What the hell was that all about?" Laura protested.

 

"He's a fucking little perv, that's what." Robby smacked Mark again for good measure.

 

"Ouch," Mark protested rubbing at his shoulder.

 

"Quit hitting him," Laura ordered.

 

"Well, make him stop," Robby ordered her.

 

"He's not doing anything," Laura said shrugging.

 

She looked at Tommy, who was laughing like a big idiot. "Tommy?"

 

"They're not going on a walk," Mark said making a face. "They're having sex."

 

"See? He's a fucking little pervert," Robby said.

 

"I didn't know what she was doing!" Mark protested.

 

"What the hell is going on?" Laura demanded. Then, as Mark opened his mouth to speak she held up her hand. "On second thought, I don't want to know. Robby's right. You should stay out of her head. It's a private thing between adults."

 

Mark nodded silently.

 

"What about this shit with Deacon?" Robby asked, successfully changing the subject.

 

Tommy shrugged. "I don't know. We can't trust these guys. At the same time if we don't do something we're going to be stuck running for the rest of our lives. If we wait too long, they're going to have time to repair all the damage you did. As Spider pointed out at dinner yesterday, we don't want to wait around till they can re-arm and prepare themselves. But what kind of an attack do we make, where do we strike, and at who?"

 
 

 

 

 

 
Chapter Twenty-four

 
"Do not say, How was it that the former days were
better than these? for thou does not inquire wisely
concerning this."
Ecclesiastes 7:10

 

Deacon stepped into his apartment. He didn't know who he expected to see when he flipped on the lights—the cat maybe, or the dog. He sure as hell didn't expect to see her.

 

She sat in his favorite chair with the gun he kept hidden between his mattress and box springs in her left hand. He supposed that she just wanted to make sure he knew she'd picked up all his spare weapons.

 

"Hands up, Deacon," Spider Webb hissed.

 

Tommy Chan stepped out of the shadows and started patting him down. Chan found his main piece, the one on his leg, and the one in his pocket. He even found the knife in his belt buckle. Tommy yanked his suit coat off him, then unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down around his ankles.

 

"Hey!" Deacon protested. He started to pull his pants up, but when he heard a gun cock he stood up slowly, raising his hands again and looking at Spider Webb.

 

"We're not taking any chances. Ever try to make a break for it with your pants around your ankles?"

 

"He's clean," Tommy announced unloading the guns. He threw the guns on the floor and pocketed the ammo.

 

Deacon took a deep breath. They really
weren't
taking any chances.

 

Chan joined Webb, standing at her shoulder. "Tell us about this deal, Deacon, and don't jack with me. Lying to me is just an exercise in futility, and you know it."

 

Deacon felt the push in his brain, and then in spite of himself, he was spilling his guts—telling her everything.

 

When he was done she stood up. She was taller than he remembered. "OK, Deacon. We'll think it over, and then we'll get back to you. Tell your superiors that if they try to fuck us . . . Just tell them not to try."

 

Deacon nodded. He watched them as they headed for his door. Chan turned as he was leaving and pulled a face. "Pull up your pants, man."

 

He didn't do it till they were out the door. Then he flopped down in his chair and looked at his trembling hands. He didn't even want to think about what might or might not happen next.

 

 

 

"Well?" Carrie asked Spider and Tommy as they slid into the car.

 

"I don't think we can afford to say no," Spider said. She motioned and Carrie put the car in gear and took off.

 

"So what next?" Robby asked.

 

"We do what we came here to do," Spider said.

 

"But I thought you said we were going to take them up on their deal," Robby said.

 

"This is part of the deal," Spider said.

 

Robby looked longingly at the diner as they drove by.

 

"It won't be long now, Robby," Spider promised.

 

"Or will never be again," Robby said.

 

Tommy shared Robby's pessimism. When they'd left the camp yesterday he had promised Laura that he would come home in one piece, but it was an idle promise. One that he couldn't be sure he could live up to, and Laura had known it just as well as he did.

 

The boy had raised hell. Mark didn't see why Carrie was going and he couldn't. What he didn't know was that Carrie had insisted, and the only way they could have left her behind was if they tied her up. She was convinced that she could help if only by driving the "goddamn car," and she wouldn't take no for an answer.

 

The SWTF building loomed before them. Spider looked over the schematic of the building that Francis had made for them.

 

"How can we trust something Francis drew?" Tommy asked.

 

"I told you. She's not dark anymore," Robby snapped. Fear was making them all a little edgy.

 

"That's all fine and good, but the reason why is because Spider all but fried the bitch's brain doing whatever the hell it is that she does," Tommy said.

 

"It matches up with what Robby and I know about the building, and she still seems to have retained all of her scientific knowledge. She's just become a little eccentric," Spider said.

 

"I can't believe we're putting our lives in the hands of the SWTF screws and Francis, for God's sake! She plays with rocks all day!" Tommy said. The closer they got to the building the less this sounded like a good, sound plan.

 

"Well?" Carrie asked, looking at Spider.

 

Spider looked at the gate—now less than a block in front of them. She looked back at Carrie. No doubt about it, the decision would be a whole lot easier if Carrie wasn't with them. She'd be a lot more willing to take wild chances, and she realized now that was exactly why Carrie had insisted on coming along.

 

"Let's do it."

 

The guard at the front gate saw the car coming, but wasn't alarmed until he saw it speed up. He hit his comlink.

 

"I think we got trou . . . "

 

A ball of fire hit the barrier, and the steel gate splintered into pieces. The guard hit the ground and rolled out of the way as the car ran through the now empty gateway.

 

"Oh God! They're back, man!" the guard screamed into his comlink. "They're fucking back!" He scrambled to his feet and took off running through the empty gateway and down the sidewalk away from the building. No job—no matter how good the pay and bennies were—was worth dying for.

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