Wanted (38 page)

“
You kick him in the balls?” Matt asked.

John barked out a harsh laugh. “She pinned one of his nuts to his thigh with a fucking fork!”

The others grimaced and groaned, a few even reaching subconsciously to protect themselves. Matt’s jaw dropped open until he saw Sarah staring at him with a wicked gleam in her eye. He clamped his jaw shut and took a half step back.

“
Dinner time!”

They all turned to see two figures approaching from the road. Rifles were slung over both of their shoulders and one held several rabbits in each hand. “Hey there y’all! Three cottontails, two jackrabbits. The jackrabbits are kinda stringy, but they eat all right.”

There was something about the girl with the rabbits that seemed familiar to Sarah. She studied her openly for a moment, then glanced at her companion. Her hair was cut short, but not so short it would be spiked up. Black and uneven, Sarah imagined Moab had nothing that passed for a hair stylist even though the other woman looked put well together. There was something about the brunette that nagged at Sarah.

“
Well hey there gorgeous,” John said, eyeing up the girl with the southern drawl. Sarah winced. John knew enough to leave her alone and she wasn’t sure why that was, given he seemed to have no sense when it came to women when he was sober.

“
Hey yourself tall, dark, and stinky,” She riposted with a thin smile.

“
It’s called pheromones baby,” John leered. “I bet you got an all I can eat buffet going on there.”

The southern belle rolled her eyes again and tossed the rabbits she carried onto the picnic table. She started to turn away when John reached out and grabbed her arm just above the elbow. “Hang on now baby, how about—“

Even with her eyes already on the scene, Sarah was stunned by what happened. Her body reacted before her brain did, but even that wasn’t fast enough. A flash of dark hair and a figure moving so quickly it was a blur circled around the girl, using the southerner to block John’s line of site until it was too late. Sarah had her gun raised halfway up by the time John had been flipped backwards. The brunette was crouched low and obviously the cause of his sudden relocation. She scrambled onto his back, her knee jabbing into his lower back. She grabbed his hair in her fist and yanked his head back so the knife she held in her other hand that had been blacked was pricking in the hollow just below his ear.

“
What the f—“

“
Nobody touches her without asking permission first,” The brunette hissed at him. “Got it?”

John sputtered for a moment, then grew quiet as she twisted the knife and caused a trickle of blood to run down the line of his jaw. “Yeah,” he muttered, “I got it.”

The knife pulled back enough so that the dark haired girl could smash his face into the ground. She stood up and turned to her surprised companion. She reached out and wrapped her hand behind the girl’s neck and pulled her in for a fierce kiss that left little doubt as to whom John had been supposed to ask permission from in the first place.

The brunette broke the kiss then turned and stared at Sarah and the others with a determined look. Sarah felt the rush of familiarity again, but still could not place it. She lowered her gun, realizing the fight was over. A glance at the others and she saw only a couple had the presence of mind to have their own guns readied. She waved at them and they, too, relaxed their stances. The two women retreated, hand in hand, though the southerner still had a dazed look on her face.

“
You all right?” Tony asked, coming over to kneel next to John.

John groaned and spat onto the ground. It was a mix of dirt and blood. “Fucking dykes.”

“
When you gonna learn to keep it in your pants?” Sarah’s question drew a round of forced laughs from the others. It cut the tension, but left her staring after the two girls until they disappeared into the dusk.

* * * *

“
What was that?”

“
Lost your accent,” Tanya noted.

Jessie stumbled, her foot catching on some uneven pavement. She caught herself, glancing back to confirm that she had tripped on a pothole, then hurried to catch up to Tanya. She pulled the girl around, catching her swinging wrist to do so. “Stop it! What was that? Was that real? Did that really bother you that much? Is there—”

“
You were in trouble,” Tanya interrupted her. She looked down at Jessie’s hand on her arm, then back up at the former movie star. “No woman left behind, that’s all.”

Jessie stared at her, then tightened her grip when Tanya tried to pull her hand away. “Bullshit. Don’t fucking lie to me Tanya. We’ve been through too much. I’ve been through too much!”

“
Jess, get a grip,” Tanya snapped, yanking her arm free. “I’m sorry that I’m not drooling over you. I’m sorry your clinging to me because it’s the only thing you’ve got left. Carl’s gone! Your career’s gone. The world is a shitty place and there’s not a fucking good thing about it. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you everything’s going to get better.”

Jessie stared at her, her mouth hanging open. Tanya continued, barely pausing to take a breath. “I’m not in love with you – I’m not even attracted to you. You’re welcome to stay with me, but I’m tired of feeling like I’m walking on a tightrope around you. If you can’t handle it, that’s fine, I can. Jessie, you’re not my mom. You’re not my girlfriend. You’re not my sister. We’re just two people in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Jessie continued to stare. Tanya looked away, blinking as she did so, and walked quickly through the deepening night towards the lodging they’d been assigned at a place that had once been called the Gonzo Inn. The city council had wanted to keep an eye on them when Russell brought them in late last year, now even after they’d been accepted they hadn’t bothered trying to find another place to stay. Up until a few moments ago it had been good enough for Jessie, now she wondered if anything would ever be good enough again.

The Lost Girls

By Jason Halstead

Air and blood burst out of my mouth. Some things never change, no matter how different things were these days. Take the fact that men are assholes with only one thing on their mind. I ignored the tearing of the fabric in my pants, so caught up was I in the way the denim scraped my skin as they were yanked over my hips. Leaving the jeans bundled just under my knees, my underwear bit in to my flesh before the lacy garment finally snapped.

My tongue was cut and my teeth felt loose. An icy-hot feeling through the tingling numbness in my cheek made me think my cheek was probably scraped or cut as well. I twisted my head to look back at the three pricks that jumped me when I returned from a quick snack run. Sure, I was on a stakeout and supposed to be paying attention but I’d left the camera running. I’d also left my pistol— didn’t figure it would do me much good if I got pulled over, at least not without enough cash in hand to bribe a cop.

Now the gun was tucked behind the back of one of the jerks that lay waiting for me. Soon as I slipped through the battered door they were on me, grabbing me and sending me into a wall first, then a knee in the stomach, then a fist to the jaw that knocked me to the ground. And now this, just one more reason I’d sworn off men nearly four years ago.

“I’m due to be relieved any minute,” I wheezed, blood dripping from my lips. “My partner’s a witch too.”

“Ain’t no witch gonna be spending time with some gutter-bitch like you!” The brains of my oppressors said.

“You leave now and I won’t tell her you said that,” I bluffed. “I’ll even let you keep the gun.”

He laughed. “How about I keep the gun and have a crack at your ass while I’m at it?” His friends laughed with him, one of them even calling to flip me over so they could see my tits. Brains ignored the boob-man and instead leered at me. “Tell you what, after we’re done with you we’ll take that fancy camera too. You play nice and maybe we’ll let you live.”

My options sucked. I had no relief coming, he’d figured that out right. “All right,” I said, twisting myself over and reaching for the hem of my t-shirt. “Let’s get this over with.”

He let me turn and pull my shirt up. I didn’t have that much up top and when I was on a job I never bothered with a bra. Boobman grinned lasciviously but his other buddy laughed. “My little brother’s got a bigger rack than she does! Hell Jerry, you sure she’s not a boy?”

“Ain’t no dick down there waiting us,” Jerry, or Brains as I called him, retorted. “Bitch even shaved it nice and clean for us. Now—holy shit, look at this bitch!”

Rapist number three whistled appreciatively as I finished pulling my pants off my legs. “That is a fine looking pussy,” he admitted.

“No dumbass, I meant her skin. Look at all the scars!”

“Damn!”

I had scars, plenty of them. All over me but most in strategic places. Scars that made me the person I am. Then there were some of them that were more random, evidence of past bullets and knives and even the teeth of a nasty Rottweiler. I sat up slowly, fighting hard to ignore the nausea in my head and the hate in my belly. I reached for Jerry’s pants. “You boys going to talk all day or are you going to show me what a real man can do?”

Jerry laughed and looked at his partners. “That’s the spirit! She’s begging for it! I knew she was just another street whore! Go ahead baby, unwrap your present.”

I unbuttoned his dirty jeans and unzipped them, fighting another wave of nausea at the thought of what lay waiting inside them. I reached in and wrapped my hand around the hot fleshy tool inside. It made me gag and filled me with fear that paralyzed me for a moment. It felt huge, even though he wasn’t fully hard. I didn’t do dick, so even the smallest could scare me. This time I knew this one, at least, wouldn’t be touching me.

He groaned appreciatively then gasped and stared down in shock. About the same time he started howling and trying to throw himself away from me his jeans darkened with blood. Boobman and Pussy-lover stared, not knowing what had happened or what to do. My hand was covered in blood as well, his blood.

I’d used Jerry’s retreat to pull myself forward so my feet were under me. Now I lunged forward crashing into Boobman and knocked him off his feet. I may only be a few inches over five feet tall and look like I’m underfed but I’ve got some surprising weight on my side. I rose up from Boobman, leaving him gasping and gurgling as blood ran down his throat and chest. Pussy-lover stared at me and Jerry, who had collapsed to his knees and was yanking his pants down to check out what had happened.

“Fuck this!” he said, scrambling backwards and bouncing off the wall next to the door. I licked my lips as I stared at him, then I winked. He whimpered like a little girl and turned to throw the door open and run out as quick as he could. I let him go, it wasn’t like I could have stopped him anyhow.

“You fucking cunt,” Jerry whispered staring at the shredded remains of his penis. “What did you do to me?”

“What your mama should have done when you were born,” I snarled. I lashed out, kicking him in the side of the head and knocking him to the ground, then I dropped on to him, a knee jabbing painfully in his chest.

“What are you?” He gasped.

“The wrong girl to fuck with!”

I drove a fist into the side of his head, nailing him squarely on the temple and sending him into dreamland. I stood up, breathing heavy and flexing my now-bruised hand. I spit on him, one final show of defiance, then turned to make sure Boobman was down. He lay unnaturally still, confirming he was no longer a threat.

I pulled my shirt down the rest of the way and slipped back into my pants and shoes. With the buttons torn I did as best I could, relying on the swell of my hips to keep them up. I grabbed my camera, scowling that the stakeout was over prematurely. I checked on Jerry one last time and figure that the bleeding wasn’t severe enough to kill him. Or at least not for quite a few hours. With a sigh I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed up 911, giving them a brief description of the scene and what sort of attention was needed, as well as a squad car. I cut the connection before they could ask me about myself.

I stopped at the door, remembering only then to grab my pistol from where it had fallen out of his pants when he went down. With a final internal curse I made my way out and back down out of the derelict building.

The Lost Girls
is book one of The Lost Girls series, which takes place in the
Dark Earth
universe.

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