Thorn Fall (10 page)

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Authors: Lindsay Buroker

BOOK: Thorn Fall
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“When did you get a tough?” Autumn jerked her chin toward Alek as she slid her case onto the table and opened it with carefulness that bordered on reverence. “I didn’t think your business was doing so well that you could hire help. Or, you know, pay your credit card bills.”

“I don’t have credit cards, just student loans. That’s Alek. He’s… Greek.”

Alek’s brows rose, but he didn’t attempt to say anything to Autumn.

“That tells me a lot, doesn’t it?” Autumn removed the pieces of the portable microscope for assembly.

The sandwich guy had been ignoring us earlier, texting or playing games on his phone when nobody needed an order, but either Autumn or the microscope had snagged his interest; he was watching us now. We would have to be careful what we said. I couldn’t switch to Greek with Autumn. She had been obsessed with Native American archaeology from the beginning, and I didn’t think she had studied any European languages in school. She might speak a smattering of Hopi, but that wouldn’t help here.

“I hear someone has a pokey thing with a mysterious poison on it for me.” Autumn waved a slide and looked back at Simon.

“Del’s got the pokey things,” he said.

“That’s an alarming development in your relationship.”

I snorted and dug out the baggie with the two thorns in it.

Simon scowled. “My pokey thing isn’t poisonous. Just… magnificent.”

“Don’t make me puke, dumbass.” Autumn accepted my baggie with a frown, pulled on gloves, and held up a thorn. “I guess I don’t need a slide. This thing is huge.”

“Also an adjective applicable here,” Simon said.

Autumn glowered at him.

I bonked him on the shoulder with my fist. “How’s
your
research going? Got any news on the most recently hospitalized guys?” I frowned over his shoulder at his laptop, not missing the fact that nothing police or hospital related was on the screen. Instead, he had found recipes and instructions for explosives. I lowered my voice to mutter, “How is it that Homeland Security hasn’t shown up at your van door?”

“I know how to cover my tracks.” He winked at me and turned back to his dubious research.

Autumn had slid one of the thorns under the slide clasps and was taking a look.

I drummed my fingers and fidgeted in my seat. I thought about asking Alek a few more questions, but he had returned to the language program on the tablet. It was an intuitive device, but it impressed me how easily he navigated it. I had to remind myself that he had doubtlessly seen more sophisticated equipment during his time with the elves. During his time as a
slave
, I corrected. Even though I had told him he didn’t need to tell me anything, my curiosity knew no bounds, and I wanted to learn more. In time, I told myself.

“Mind if I cut one open?” Autumn asked.

“Be my guest. There are more out there in the rocks. Just be careful. These are apparently what have been killing people around here.”

“Really? Huh.” Autumn took out tweezers and a scalpel. She struggled to slice open the sturdy thorn, but after a moment, she slid a cross section back under the microscope. “Your poison is probably venom. There’s a canal here, so it isn’t something that’s been applied to the tip. I’d need to see the whole creature, or at least the venom sac to be sure, but it looks like something that’s made internally and secreted through this lancet.”

“So we’re looking at a big bee stinger?”

“Big is an understatement. I’d hate to see the bee that dropped this.” Autumn waved at the thorn.

“That’s not what I expected. This wasn’t jabbed at us by something’s butt; it was shot, along with countless others, across dozens of meters. We thought they were BBs at first, the way they were clattering off the rocks.”

“That sounds unlikely,” Autumn said, “but I suppose I can find the pictures on Simon’s blog later.”

“Oh, are you a follower?” Simon spun around, smiling. “Can that microscope take pictures? We haven’t spotted the new monster yet, but I’d love some pictures of the stinger for the site.”

“I bet you would,” she said without volunteering to help him.

“Simon,” I said slowly, still cogitating on the stinger revelation, trying to match what she was saying to what we had experienced. Was it possible that the flying creature had dozens or hundreds of venom sacs and stingers that it was constantly regrowing and replacing? I reminded myself that whatever these
jibtab
were, they weren’t, as Alek had said, natural creations. I couldn’t limit myself to thinking in terms of what made sense in the normal world. “Do you have anything at all on the hospital reports? Can you find out if people had a histamine reaction, the way you would from a bee sting? From what the news said, it sounded like everyone took a while to die, so it’s not like they were suffering from anaphylactic shock.”

“Just because I’m using a bee stinger as an analogy doesn’t mean we’re looking at a venom that’s anything like what a bee puts out,” Autumn said.

“I know. I’m just… trying to get a better idea of what we’re dealing with, based on the symptoms the affected people showed before dying. Like are we dealing with a neurotoxin, a hemotoxin, a cytotoxin, or what? I’m surprised there hasn’t been more information and speculation in the news. Unless someone’s deliberately keeping things quiet.”

“I don’t know, but with better tools, I can probably get a sample of the substance and run it through the lab to see if there are matches.” Autumn’s lips quirked in something between annoyance and amusement. “Or is this going to be like the language thing where there just isn’t a match?”

Simon smirked at us over the back of his seat. “Odds maker says… worse odds of finding a match than of getting a royal fizzbin.”

“A what?” Autumn gave him a flat look.

I swatted at Simon. “Ignore him. Until he gets us our hospital reports.”

“That’s not public information,” Autumn said.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t think he’s the public. He thinks he’s special. But look, we could have brought the thorns up to your lab for you. I’m surprised you didn’t want to look at them there to start with.”

Autumn didn’t answer right away. She removed the thorn carefully and dropped both halves back into the plastic baggie. “Delia, you already know you’re persona non grata in the archaeology field, right?”

Oh, yes. I knew. “Yeah.”

“My boss found out I was running that last blood sample for you, and some of the guys at the university… well, it got complicated. I don’t know all the details. I do know that our new blood type that we discovered has disappeared, and I couldn’t get anyone down there to talk about it. I was specifically told not to let you in the lab if you came by. In fact, I’ve been told not to have anything to do with you if I know what’s good for my career.”

I swallowed, not utterly surprised but stung nonetheless. My first instinct was to pretend I didn’t care, that it didn’t matter. But pretending was all it would be. “You decided to defy your boss because you value our friendship so much?”

“Nah, I just don’t like people telling me what to do.” She smiled, then pointed a finger at my face. “Don’t think I’m going to let you into my lab to jeopardize my career, but nobody’s going to tell me who I can hang out with in my off time.”

Simon lifted a finger. “Can
I
show up at your lab? I’m persona grata, right? Who could resist my charm? Also, I don’t think those archaeology stiffs know who I am. I ask because I could use a lab for some projects right now.”

“Please, I’d invite an abominable snowman into my lab before I let you in to goober things up.” Autumn closed the lid on her case and slid the baggie into her jacket pocket. “I’ll take a look and get you more information on the substance. A list of symptoms
would
be useful in narrowing things down.”

“We’ll get it.” I hoped we wouldn’t have to sneak into the hospital to look for ourselves. It wasn’t that far to Phoenix, but destroying the monster should be our priority, and the monster was here. Still, knowing what the poison—the venom—was might mean that someone could come up with an antidote or a vaccine. If in fighting it, one of us was struck with a stinger, I would sure want there to be a cure. “If the substance is identified, how long do you think it would take to come up with an antidote?”

“I think the word you want is antivenom, and you’re outside of my realm of expertise, but I know that with rattlesnakes, they capture one, milk out some of the venom, dilute it, and inject it into an animal. The subject animal produces antibodies against the active molecule in the venom, and then those antibodies can be harvested from the blood and given to others as treatment.” Autumn opened her sandwich bag. “No chips?”

“Sorry, you traumatized us with talk of milking snakes,” Simon said. “Ew.”

“Sissy.”

“I’m not milking that thing, Delia, so don’t ask,” Temi said, one eye open and swiveled in our direction.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I wasn’t going to suggest it. But maybe if we can collect enough of those thorns… Autumn, would they need to be fresh, do you think?” I didn’t particularly want to go back to that ledge and get stuck again while scraping up stingers, but I didn’t want to go hunting for the creature’s lair yet, either.

“Probably. I can have Brody take a look, see if he can come up with something. He’s the biologist upstairs, and he’s got a bunch of mice he’s always giving cancer and diabetes to. A poke of this stuff might be an improvement for them.” Autumn chomped down into her sandwich.

“Uh, right. That’s not part of the archaeology department, I’m assuming?”

“No, some biotech pharmaceutical outfit that rented the space. Brody’s a good guy though. He won’t care that I’m doing the research for a friend who’s been ostracized.” She took another bite. “Oh, I love that bacon.”

I glanced at Alek, wondering if he would make a pig comment, but he was gazing toward the front windows. Before I could ask what held his interest, a distant roar reached my ears. Motorcycles?

“Expecting anyone?” I asked Temi, though I didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if she had Jakatra’s cell phone number.

She shook her head.

The roar grew louder as a pack of motorcycle riders in denim and leather rode into the parking lot. They charged up and down the aisles a couple of times, making a lot of noise. They eventually pulled into a few spaces and stopped their bikes. Judging by the number of shaggy beards, beefy shoulders, and potbellies in the crowd, they weren’t elves. High school football players that had gone to seed, maybe.

“Think they have anything to do with us?” Temi asked.

I wondered the same thing, though I couldn’t imagine what. There were a dozen shops and a grocery store in the complex. The big guys probably just wanted to get lattes before getting back on the road.

“Nah.” Simon smirked. “They’re probably here for the vortexes.”

“Oh yes,” I said. “I can’t tell you how often I see guys in black leather sitting cross-legged and getting Zen in a mystical power spot.”

Autumn crumpled up her empty sandwich bag. “If that’s all I’m getting in the way of goodies, I better get back home. I’ll let you know what else I find out. Mind if your tough walks me out to my car, in case those big boys aren’t here to get Zen?”

“Does she mean Temi or Sexypants?” Simon whispered.

“Anyone over six feet can apply.” Autumn slid out of the seat and tucked her case under her arm.

“We’ll all go.” I closed my laptop and slid out after her. “We need to plan our next step in privacy.”

“And where will we find that?” Simon asked. “There are teenage girls skulking in the bushes outside of our campsite.”

“I’m more worried about the grandmother.”

As we headed for the door, the sandwich clerk jogged out from behind the counter with a bag of chips in his hand. He held them out to Autumn. “Here you go. On the house. I thought you might still be hungry.” He gave her a shy smile, made somewhat alarming by the amount of scruffy hair surrounding his lips. His eyebrows were equally scruffy. Maybe Temi would approve if I offered him my tweezers.

“Uh, thanks,” Autumn said.

“My number is on there in case you’d like me to bring you a sandwich some time.”

She looked at the back of the bag, ignoring the big numbers inked on with a felt pen and reciting the Frito-Lay one instead. “Got it, thanks.”

She walked out before he could correct her. Simon gave him a brotherhood-of-men-out-of-their-league arm thump on the way by. Or maybe he was just glad the clerk had offered the chips so we wouldn’t feel bad about not buying them.

The guys outside had climbed off their motorcycles, but they hadn’t gone into any of the stores. I didn’t like the way they looked at us as we walked outside, but I took comfort in the fact that we did indeed have two “toughs” now. Even if Temi’s sword was locked in the van, along with my bullwhip and Alek’s weapons, she had probably learned a few things about using her fists to knock uglies on their butts. No need to test that though. We headed straight for the van without showing any interest in the men.

Unfortunately, they showed interest in us. More than that. They sauntered toward us, thumbs hooked in the loops of their jeans. Alek was shadowing me, and he met my eyes, giving me a significant look, one I had no problem reading. We were going to have trouble. I couldn’t imagine why. All right, Simon and Autumn looked like they could have wandered out of a gaming store with fresh twenty-sided dice purchases, but the rest of our group didn’t have the makings of bully bait.

Simon hustled ahead to unlock the van door.

“That’s them,” one of the men said.

With those words, the floodgates opened: the whole crew of eight men ran in our direction. They weren’t the fittest sprinters, but they didn’t have far to go.

Alek sprang away from us, putting himself into the lead man’s route. Simon had the van door open, and I ran that way first, wanting my whip. It wouldn’t help in close quarters, but I might be able to stand back and pull a couple of them off their feet.

Temi glanced at the van, but then joined Alek. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the decision. Whipping a glowing sword out in the mini mall parking lot would probably attract attention we didn’t want, but it might scare those thugs away too. I wasn’t sure where she had left it, though, so I merely lunged inside and grabbed my whip. Thumps sounded as Simon rooted around for something, or maybe a place to hide under a seat.

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