The Saffron Malformation (41 page)

             
Quey sat quietly and said nothing when she was through because he knew she was right, but he also knew he wasn’t going to be one of them.  He wasn’t going to be one of the people who sat by and did nothing.

             
“You’re free to do as you like, of course, it’s just I don’t know what else to do.  I just know I can’t hunker down, settle in and do nothing.  I don’t know what to expect.  I don’t know what you want, what you see as your future, I just know you’re worth something in a tight spot and I’d rather have you ride with us to whatever end then sit here and wait for it.  You never were that girl, and I don’t think you’re that woman.”

             
She looked at him for a long, cold, silent moment then finally said, “You need a medic.”  There was a bit of accusation in her tone.

             
Quey didn’t bother with a lie.  “I need more than that,” he said instead.  “If it was just a doc I was hurting for I could have picked up a half dozen or so by now, and any one of those would be better experienced in the field than yourself.  It’s true, your talent in that particular practice makes you plenty sparkly to a drifter such as myself but the rest of who you are is what makes you shine.”  He smiled at her.  “You always said you envied your father’s days with Cal and then me, and the days Dusty and I had as kids—rolling around and meeting new people.”

             
Natalie laughed slightly and admitted, “I did, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I do, but I also remember being a scared little girl wondering if her father was going to come home this time, then wondering if he did, what shape would he be in.  Him getting shot up was the best thing that ever happened to me because it got him off the road.”  She looked over her shoulder, toward the rest of the house where Amber was and said, “I don’t want to do that.”

             
Suddenly Quey thought of the Angels of the Brood and Amber.  His mind had a momentary vision of a horrible thought involving those two things and suddenly he felt like an asshole for asking her to go in the first place.  “You’re right,” he said.  “If things go bad though.  If you need help, or if you change your mind, you call.  Understand?”

             
Natalie nodded.

             
“No matter what you’re still part of the crew.”  Quey stood.  “Thank you for dinner and Rachel and the like.”  His eyes glazed over a bit as he thought back on the evening, sharing stories and laughing over plates of food with Natalie and her daughter.  Absently he admitted, “I almost felt like someone there for a spell.”

             
She looked at him and asked, “What?”

             
He shook her off.  “G’night.”

             
“G’night,” she replied and he started for the door.

             
He was two steps into the living room when he turned and said, “Have a way out.”

             
She looked at him and cocked her head slightly.

             
“For if things get bad.  Know how you’re going to get out of town and have a place to go in mind.  Get that square right away.  Don’t go putting it off.”

             
Suddenly it seemed like something heavy was draped over her shoulders and she nodded.

             
Quey turned again and this time he made it to the door before she spoke.  “Quey?”  He turned.  “That thing about calling, about being a crew… it goes both ways.”  He smiled at her and nodded before turning and finally making it through the door and into the cool night air.

             
Morning came and the four travelers met in the lobby for one last breakfast at a table before heading out onto the road again.

             
“We should send Natalie a present,” Rachel said with a playful smile.

             
“That,” Dusty proclaimed, “Is a brilliant idea.”  Then he kissed her on the cheek and pinched her thigh.  She yelped a bit and slapped his hand.  It was early and the joy radiating off of them was enough to make you sick.

             
Reggie leaned over to Quey and said loud enough for all of them to hear, “If they’re going to be like this I’m glad we have a second car because I just might shoot them.”

             
Quey chuckled.

             
“Hey,” Dusty said, throwing his hands up.  “I’m just happy my fiancé’s brain isn’t going to melt or explode.  If that’s wrong then I have no mind to be right.”

             
“I’ll remind you of that the next time you disagree with me,” Rachel said.

             
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he replied with a grin and pinched her thigh again adding, “Evil wench.”

             
She laughed and the banter was about to continue when Quey said, “Alright kids, when you’re done would it be alright with you if we started out?”

             
Dusty and Rachel settled.  “Yes dad,” he said.

             
Quey smiled.  “We’ve got a lot of pavement to cover and I’d like to get a start on it.  You two have plenty of kilometers alone in a car followed by nights in a room all by your lonesome.”

             
They looked at each other and laughed.

             
Quey stood and went to the front desk where he was checking out when his sheet computer started buzzing in his pocket.  He pulled it out and turned it on.  He had a new message in his personal box.  He never got messages in his personal box, could probably count on his fingers the number of people who even knew the address and most of them were out front waiting to roll.

             
“Here you are,” the lady behind the counter said, sliding a sheet computer in front of him.  He lifted the plastic pen and signed the bottom of the screen with an illegible name, he paid cash and no one ever asked that sort to write clearly.  He’d signed without looking over the bill.  He didn’t care, he was more interested in his new message which he checked before the lady could even say, “thank you.”

             
“What is it?” Reggie asked as he crossed from the restaurant to the desk.

             
“It’s Arnie,” he replied, shocked.

             
“What’s he want?”

             
“He wants our help,” Quey replied trailing off.

             
“Who wants our help?” Dusty asked as he and Rachel joined them.

             
“Arnie,” Quey replied.

             
“Quey got a message from him,” Reggie added.

             
“What’s it say?” Dusty inquired.

             
And Quey replied by reading it again, “Sorry about the ranch.  I know its asking a lot considering I could never pay you back already but I need help and I don’t know what else to do.”

             
“That it?” Dusty asked.

             
Quey scanned the message further and said, “Pretty much.  After that he just apologizes and then there’s the name of a town I’ve never heard of.”

             
“Let me see.”  Quey handed the sheet to Dusty who looked at the name of the town and shrugged.  “It’ll be in the GPS, I’m sure.”

             
Quey nodded.

             
“Then we go get him?” Reggie asked in a way that sounded like he was suggesting they should agree.

             
Quey sighed and looked at the group.  “If he’s mixed up in what happened at the ranch then his dick’s definitely in a lions mouth.  I promised him help if ever he needed it.”

             
“I don’t know why we’re still talking,” Dusty said, looking around at the others.  “He’s one of the crew.  Did his best in Bravette, and on the road leading to it.”

             
“He’s one of the crew,” Reggie agreed firmly.

             
Dusty took Rachel’s hand and she nodded.

             
Quey used his sheet computer to search for the town.  “Rachel, you wouldn’t happen to know how to shoot now would you?”

             
“Not really,” she replied.

             
“If we’re going to look for Arnie we’ll have to remedy that,” he trailed off staring at his screen.  “And it looks like we won’t have much time.”  He turned the sheet so they could see the map, “Four days at the most.”

             
Rachel looked sly as she said, “Luckily I’m a quick study.”

             
Dusty kissed her cheek and said, “I love you,” and Reggie chuckled.

             
After a spell spent planning their route the group left the Evening Lilly Inn, climbed into their vehicles and started off to find Arnie in a small town called Vernire.

Twisted Schemes and Evil Deeds

             
The living compartment in the back of Render’s rig was a good size, considering.  He could fit four people in there comfortably and cram six or even eight back there if the need arose.  Attached to the back wall was a couch of sorts that pulled out to a bed, there was a table that lowered from the ceiling and a pair of cold boxes to the left and a wet bar to the right.  Lying on the floor near his left foot was a bitch named… something.  Who the fuck cared?

             
She was a pretty thing he’d taken for himself two weeks back, captured during a raid after she’d caught his eye.  She had blonde hair and a thin, soft face, full of youth.  He thought she was seventeen or so, not a virgin he discovered later but not broken in yet either.

             
“You wanna live?” he’d asked her in what remained of a small town—Caventeen, he thought it might have been called.  She’d sniveled and he barked, “Well?”

             
She’d nodded furiously.

             
“Then you can come with me and if you’re a good girl it won’t be so bad fer you.  If not, I’ll let ‘em have you,” he warned.

             
She’d looked over at the pack of broodlings devouring her shape with their eyes, nearly foaming at the mouth for a chance at her.  She’d begun to cry.  When he took her hand she’d allowed him to lead her over to his rig and climbed into the back.  She had wept that first time, but he’d been okay with it because other than that she’d been a very good girl.

             
Render liked them young, but not too young.  He wasn’t a sicko.  He wasn’t into children, but he’d been around the world and back again and in all his times and through all his travels he’d never found anything sweeter than teenage pussy.  He even liked to lick it, if it was properly cleaned.

             
Most of the girls he’d been with in his life had taken no pleasure from having sex with him.  He knew that.  And the ones that had… well it hadn’t started that way.  They fucked him because they’d weighed fucking him against being gang raped—probably to death—and decided he was preferable, or they wanted something from him.

             
This latest one looked up at him with grey blue eyes, fearful still after all this time.  She wouldn’t be one of the ones who warmed up to him, he’d had enough bitches to know that much.  Still, she was the sweetest piece around.  He met her eyes and warned, “You better make my dick cum.”

             
He saw her stiffen slightly as her heart raced and her nostrils flared, breathing hard.  After a moment she crawled to him and opened his pants.  He was soft, agitated.  The fucking moonshiner was pissing him off.

             
He’d become quite the thorn, Quey Von Zaul.  Sure the ransom for him had been paid but that was the trouble of it when they discovered the girl was hiding in his fucking ranch.  Over the course of dealing with him, this Mister Stone had learned things about their operation.  He could bring Blue Moon down on them hard, kick in their doors and cripple their organization.  Or, as he pointed out, he could simply have them killed.

             
“It wouldn’t be quiet.  Brood won’t go without a ruckus,” Render warned staring at the man.

             
When Sticklan Stone smiled at him and answered, “Good,” Render knew the sort of man he was dealing with.  He was the sort who just wanted people to die and paid no heed as to who or why.  Now the Brood was looking for the shiner again, but this time finding him wouldn’t be so lucrative.  Render hated working for free.  He hated being under someone’s thumb even more.

             
“You gunna ponder that dick or do something about it?” he barked.

             
Trembling she closed her eyes and took him in her mouth.  She loathed the process but Render sat back and sighed.  She’d been smart and learned how to get him there fast.  As soon as his prick sprung to life she slid her skirt up and moved to sit on him.  He grabbed her and pushed her head back down.  “Think you should do that a while longer,” he told her, then pulled her shirt from her body and squeezed one small breast.  Defeated she knelt before him and sucked his dick while he groped her chest.  He wouldn’t cum from this, she knew, which was why she was in a hurry to get him in her pussy.  There she could finish him quick, but he wanted to make it linger a while.  He wanted her to be down there with her mouth on his musty cock, smelling his unwashed balls and crusty ass.  It felt good, that power.

             
Before they burned the ranch, Render found a few picture displays around the house.  He had one of them sitting on his wet bar, displaying Quey’s picture.  Whenever he looked at it rage roared through him and no matter what else he was feeling it gave way to determination.  He’d find this moonshiner and he’d take his fucking balls off.

             
“If I were you I’d get it good and wet,” he warned and the girl drooled a mouth full of saliva onto his cock just in time.  He snatched her by the hair and threw her onto the couch beside him, then he pinned her legs back by her ears and rammed his cock inside her.  He fucked her hard, pounding against her pelvis, slamming his tip into her cervix and watching her face twist with discomfort.  When she cried out it wasn’t from pleasure.  He gripped her hair and yanked and demanded, “Look at me.”  She opened her eyes, full of fear and glistening with tears and he felt himself throb.  Grinning he said, “Yeah baby.  I love it when you hate it,” and tore into her for another minute before finally exploding inside her.

             
Finished, he shoved her to the floor and collapsed onto the couch, his cock still throbbing as it slowly shriveled.  The girl was curled up, making small whimpering noises.

             
Ahead of him was the curtain that separated his space from the driver, but that’s all it was, a thin bit of cloth, the illusion of privacy.  “You want a go at her Kelm?” he called.

             
“Wouldn’t mind,” the driver agreed.

             
“Pull over,” Render barked and the girl looked up at him.  “Then pick a dozen to follow.  I’m done with this gash,” he barked, disgusted by her and left her alone in the back.  The breaks squealed and Render hopped out.  As Kelm gathered a dozen friends the boss took a piss in the woods, then went over and sat on one of the cars to drink booze, smoke his pipe, and watch the truck rock while he listened to ruckus.  He drank and smiled as he listened to the voices of broodlings shouting encouragement as they gathered around and took turns with the girl, and her weeping under it all peppered with her occasional outcry.  It didn’t take his men long to finish and when it was over they tossed her from the truck and dispersed.  She landed on the rocky dirt beside the road, naked and bloody.  Someone, a few someones actually, had punched her.  She struggled against the earth, trying to crawl somewhere, but she was too weak and collapsed onto the side of the road.

             
Render walked back to his rig, not even pausing as he passed her.  He simply drew his pistol and shot her in the back of the head mid-stride.  Her skull smacked into the pavement as the muzzle flashed, but she didn’t feel it.  Her brains were drooling from her forehead.  Less than a minute later the Brood was rolling.  They had a moonshiner to find.

             
Richter Crow was in a meeting with a group of assholes who formed some sort of board.  A man in a cheap suit (compared to the ones he wore) was droning on about projections and production value and profits.  None of it mattered, but Richter was the only one in the room who knew that.

             
Instead of listening he paid enough attention to not be obvious and used his ring device to access the network.  He’d been taking a lot of heat on the signal as of late, what with the Brood growing bolder every day.  Everywhere he went he was bombarded with questions regarding the raids.  “Why has the Brood suddenly gone so rabid?  What drew them from the outskirts and lured them to registered settlements?”

             
It wasn’t the Brood that had gotten off its leash, Richter knew but could never say because what was running rapid was, in fact, Sticklan Stone.

             
He scanned the signal, using his ring device’s holographic display, glancing up at the presentation he was supposed to be very concerned with from time to time and wondered if the implants had really been as bad as everyone made them out to be.  Sure implanting computer parts into humans to make for an easier interface had taken a turn when the hardware was beset with a virus that, for lack of a better description, turned people into zombies and caused the deaths of billions, but still, was that reason enough to abandon a tech completely?  Surely revisions could have been made, but then again humans were finicky creatures and preferred their limitations to progress they didn’t understand.  There were rumors of people in the underground who had continued with the project and given the choice he would have added a deck to his spine without question but it was common knowledge no one voted for a man who augmented himself in such ways.  The masses are dumb, always have been, most would go their whole lives without ever reading a book and they believed anyone with a chipset in their brains could be hacked.

             
Still, dumb people were useful.  They tended to look the other way while the planet died around them and their money was used to fund a smarter man’s beach-side retirement.

             
The meeting was over and he sat back in his chair thoughtfully for a moment, squinting at the holoscreen across the room and nodding slightly.  After a spell he said, “I’ll give it some thought and let you know in a day or so.”

             
This was always an acceptable answer to boards such as this, as they were usually happy to just not hear no.  They’d allow themselves a celebratory drink in honor of not being denied, but only one as they hadn’t gotten what they wanted either.  These people wanted to improve conditions in one of the assembly plants, near as he could tell.  What they didn’t understand that Richter Crow did was that conditions didn’t matter.  They didn’t matter because the corporations did something better than provide a decent space to work or live.  They offered escape.  Entertainment.  The network signal was kept full of new video games and new shows and even movies from time to time.

             
Movies were a strange habit lingering from the past.  Richter meant to do away with them completely years ago but there are some folks who tend to prefer them.  Richter hated them because once they were over they were done.  The nice thing about a show is it keeps going on.  People get together and talk about what might happen next.  They wait in anticipation of the next episode.  They forget the pesky things that would get in the way of big business.  Anticipating what might happen tomorrow is what held society together now.  It was the reason release dates were carefully planned so the most popular forms of entertainment were never too close together or too far apart.  Without anticipation people would stop and look around.  Without entertainment they might take a moment to think about things.  Neither of these happenings would be good for any corporation, much less the branch of Blue Moon operating on Saffron at present.

             
“If people stopped to think, we’d all be fucked.”

             
It was something Tolik, Richter’s mentor, had told him once.  He’d been high ranking in Blue Moon and though he never got elected to the upper branches, he taught Crow how to be.  He understood what every good businessman does.  People don’t matter unless you can find a way to profit from them.

             
When Richter was starting out, his relationship with Della still fresh, he watched Tolik take a girl young enough to be his daughter back to his hotel room.  The next day he looked at Richter and sensed the young man’s judgment.

             
“You have a woman?”

             
Richter nodded.

             
“How long?”

“Bout a year.”

              “You love her?”

             
Richter thought and answered, “I think so.”

             
“And you’ll marry her.”

             
“Maybe.”

             
“You will,” Tolik assured him.  “Her or someone else.  It won’t matter who, you’ll do it because it’ll look good and because you’ll want a son.  That’s what a man needs out of a wife, Richter.  A legacy.  Your wife will give you babies.  Every other cunt will give you pleasure,” Tolik laughed.  When Richter didn’t the man added, “Give it time.  You’ll see.”

             
He’d been right, Richter had to concede as he rode the elevator to the garage level where his car was waiting for him.  Della had given him the two sons he desired and after that he’d found less and less use for her every year.  To this day he cursed the drunken night he’d taken a nostalgic fancy to her and bedded her and knocked her up with Leone.  If he’d gone any other way that night most of the shit he spent his days wading through at present wouldn’t exist.