Flight (42 page)

He looks worried as he stares down at me. "What is it?"

I search his eyes, looking for the monster they claim him to be. I just don't see it. I wonder what he sees when he searches my eyes? The monster they claim
me
to be? "It's not good." Silence from him. "It's not good but I don't care. I'm going to do it anyway."

"Did you get this information from God, Junco?"

"God?" I let out a contemptuous laugh. "God has nothing to do with any of this. Gideon said as much when I was just a little girl. I don't need God to tell me what to do, Lucan, this is called
revenge
. They took Isten and left his memories inside me, memories that will remind me every day for the rest of my life that I lost this battle."

I don't know what I expected from him in terms of my revelation. Perhaps a small half-hearted fight over my loss of faith or a lecture on how pointless revenge is. Maybe some consoling words over Isten. All things Gideon would probably say if I told him instead. But Lucan barely blinks at my confession. In fact he almost looks relieved.

"Soon the High Order will be here to judge me. And Inanna." He pauses then and his eyes dart away from mine for a fleeting moment. "And you, Junco. They are coming to judge you too."

"It's not over?"

"It's just begun. And when the High Order gets here you will fulfill your part in the prophecy."

"All right, that's enough. I knew I never liked to ask questions. See what I mean? It's so much better to pretend it's not happening."

A soft laugh escapes from Lucan and the skin around his eyes crinkles with his smile. "I agree, there are more interesting things to talk about right now." His hand slips under my back and he leans his chest over me, staring into my eyes. "I watched you choose Tier, and Ashur, and Kush. Even Isten with the twine he wanted. But did you ever want to choose me, Junco?"

"I already chose you."

"Say it again. It was years ago."

I close my eyes and smile. The ego on these alien men. It's exhausting. My eyes open and I study his features – every dot of color and every shine of light in his blue eyes. I look for the slightest muscle movement in his expression as he waits for my response, but he is still. "I choose you, Lucan."

His hand slides down my stomach, then slips under my shirt as his face dips down to mine and he kisses me gently. It's so tender and filled with kindness I couldn't be more surprised. He pulls back a fraction, his breath still touching me. "I'm going to love you for thousands of years, Junco. Thousands of years."

I cannot even comprehend what these words mean and my confusion must show on my face. He braces me against his chest and flips us over so I am straddling his waist and his hand is cradling my head into his neck.

"Take your time, Junco. I will wait."

My eyes close as I sink into him and lie still. His fingertips reach under my shirt and gently sweep up and down my back. His heartbeat is strong and even. It pushes out any fears I might have over the future, overtakes any reservations about this being who wants to love me forever, and I fall back asleep in his arms without counting a single beat.

Page forward to read the first chapter of Range, Book Four of the I Am Just Junco series.

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RANGE Preview

BOOK FOUR - RANGE - Look for it in April 2013!

Prologue

Peak City basks in the glow of dawn, all the natural color washed out of the high-rise buildings that wind their way up the side of the mountain, replaced with a hazy orange that reminds me of sherbet. The Goat lurches a few times as I pick up speed to enter the tunnel that will shuttle me through the mountain and into the valley where I have an appointment with death.

I've never been sanctioned to work outside my father's explicit instructions but life has changed considerably in the past few months. Mrs. Strauss showing up at the house to take me back to school a week early, my father not being home all summer, no birthday week, Gideon went missing, and HOUSE's cryptic message that led to this opportunity. All weird shit that's been screaming at me to prepare.

And that's exactly what I'm gonna do.

Prepare. For the fucking shit to hit the fucking fan because I can feel it. It's definitely coming.

The road twists after I leave the tunnel and I guide my aging vehicle onto an almost hidden dirt track. I'll leave tire marks but it's pretty windy today. I'm confident that the dust will swirl and scatter long before anyone enters this forest with forensic equipment, so I don't give a shit.

Let them figure out who killed the Peaks mayor. Like I care. I could kill him from point-blank range at high noon during the Patriots' Day parade and probably get away with it.

All I want is the biometrics so I can get the connection as payment because I need what they have.

I turn off the main track at the 13.28 mile mark and I lurch up and down as the pine needles reach out and slap the side of the Goat.

My smile brightens as I pull out into the clearing and spy the swirling eddy, then swing around and mow down several saplings to partially conceal my vehicle. They'll see that too, the way I flattened the aspens. But fuck it.

I brought just enough supplies to get me through this job and a possible firefight on the way out and that's it. Ten rounds for the rifle, a TZi with four pre-loaded ten-shot mags, and a bottle of water. I check my timeclip and hoof it downstream another quarter of a mile, then find the tree I scoped out last weekend and climb.

The pine resin sticks to my hands as I make my way to the proper bough, another possible giveaway that I am the shooter if I am caught, but again—who fucking cares?

My timeclip buzzes against my skin and I check upriver.

There.

He's busy navigating the rapids and the kayak is being jostled this way and that, just like every other time I've seen him out here. He's not really great at this kayaking stuff. I mean, he's been practicing this stretch of river for two months if I believe what they told me.

And I do believe them. They have a look about them that says 'we know shit'.

So, yeah. He's not that great at kayaking because even I could navigate this baby-ass, wannabe whitewater and I've only been kayaking a few times.

I take out my rifle, don't bother with the bipod, just brace Big Boy against the tree limb, and scope my ticket to freedom as he weaves his way towards death.

He's so fucking close I barely need to aim. His head splatters fractions before the muffled shot rings out in the early morning dawn and I pack it up, swing my way down the tree, then haul ass back to the Goat.

His kayak is waiting for me, swirling in the strong eddy upside down.

I leave Big Boy and my pack on shore and then wade in to the river, swim over to the dead man, and find his left hand. My knife slices open his palm and I cut the biometrics away from the tendons, rinse it out in the water, stuff it in my vest pocket, and then jam him up against some rocks to hold him down just long enough for me to get back into the RR.

He's got no one downstream today, he never does on Wednesdays, so I'm not really worried about the whole getaway thing.

I leave him there, not even looking back as I thrust the Goat in reverse and the aspens spring back up, bent but not broken. I shove it in first and then spin my wheels a little as I leave the way I came.

Sometimes I think it's unfair that I'm such an efficient killer. I mean, they really have no chance once I'm set on taking them out. No chance at all.

The ride back to the RR is uneventful. Even as I pull up to the Council 3 border crossing and hand over my passport, I am calm.

The border guard is older, not anyone I recognize. He smiles at me. Flirting maybe, which is disgusting because I'm barely sixteen years old for fuck's sake. His eyes take me in, notice my wet civilian clothes, and then he finally glances down to read my credentials. His whole attitude changes and I watch his eyes with slight amusement. He tries to avoid my gaze as he makes to address me properly.

"Senior Cadet Captain Coot. Welcome back to the Rural Republic, sir."

"Thank you, it's always a pleasure to come home." I've only been gone two hours but you gotta say something when they tell you that shit. Just protocol.

The guard salutes me as I pull away and I light a cigar and let the wind whip my hair around my face as I haul ass down the road.

The only thing that could fuck this up now is if my dad suddenly appeared.

But he's not around. Hasn't been for months.

The rendezvous occurs in an old house with a crazy slanted roof that sits on top of a cliff out by Ramah. It used to be an artist's retreat, way back before the RR was even a nation, back when it was the State of Colorado in the United States.

But now it's just an old slanted house that can barely withstand its own weight.

I pull up and get out, not taking care to be quiet or to check the familiar old Jeep I'm parked next to. If there's one person from Stag Camp who never underestimated me it was James. I walk through a doorway that lost its door decades ago.

He smiles as I enter and I grab the biometrics from my vest and toss it to him. "Now hand it over, James."

He laughs at me. "Hi, Junco. Nice to see you too. I'm fine, thanks."

I shake my head and smile a little. James has been a big guy my whole life and even though I've grown up, he never seemed to get smaller to me. His gut got a little wider over the years, his light brown hair has always been a little too long, his shirts a little too loud, and his face a little too soft for what he's known for, but he never lost his hardcore-ness. He taught me everything I know about shooting and then some. "Fuck that, James, just give me what I need. I have to get back to school before Strauss comes to get me for piano this afternoon."

"Why do you let her run your life like that, Junco? Shit, enough with the piano already. You're fine. You don't need it anymore."

"I do need it, James. I'm just really good at hiding it. Now give me the info."

"I got it right here." He tosses me a thick yellow envelope tied up with several rubber bands.

I snap off the bands and thumb through the documents. "So, what do I do? Just go up there with this stuff and then what?" I look up to him, my eyes asking for help.

"That's it. You show up and give them the envelope."

I take a deep breath and let it out.

"Here, give me your arm, Junco. I'll scramble the tracking for twenty-four hours. That's all I can give you, OK? You get these little interruptions all the time, so it won't look strange."

"I do?"

He swipes a small device over my tracker and laughs. "We're not perfect, shit happens. So, shit's happening today. Twenty-four hours though, and don't cut it close because it's not that reliable."

"And this will absolutely work? Are you sure?"

He's busy buttoning the small biometrics panel into his front shirt pocket but then looks back at me. "I just told ya, I set it up, Junco."

I shrug. "Nothing is what it used to be, James. Everyone's gone crazy. My dad-—"

"You stay away from him now. Hear me? I'm serious. Just stay away."

I don't want to listen to this so nodding is the quickest way to get past it. "And they won't report me?" If they report me I'm fucked.

He walks over to me and gives me a squeeze. "They won't, Junco. I've already made the deal. These guys are friends, OK?"

I pull away.

"But you need to get up there tonight, you understand?"

I swallow. "Everyone's coming back to school today, so it will be crazy. I'll be able to get out no problem."

"Yeah, well, don't let anyone know anything. If they see you, stop and wait a few hours and try again. In fact, when you go back, park out there by the barn, where Michael parks. Then go out later and leave from there."

"It'll be chaos in the barn today, horses being delivered, remember?"

"Not during new cadet orientation, Junco."

"That's true. And you're sure my dad's not coming for the welcome ceremony? He's never missed one before." I want him to come. I miss him and he's been strange for the past few months. I need him to come be nice to me for a while.

"He's not, Junco. And if he does show up? You stay the fuck away. This is an order."

"But why?"

His face becomes serious as he looks down at me. "Junco, trust me. You don't want to know. Just drop it. Drop him. I'm sorry, I know you two were close, but this is the only way. I wouldn't lie to you, Snowbird. But I'm not gonna tell you everything, either. So just do what I say."