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Like a pair of wraiths, Bloom and I crept toward the center of the city. The moon shone like a gigantic lantern, so I expected high activity among the Flesh Eaters. They avoided the sun, but a moonlit night brought them out in droves. Maybe Bloom and I were idiots for taking such a chance, but boredom and monotony were our enemies just as much as the Not-Quite-Dead.
Several blocks from our destination, I caught a hint of movement in the shadows ahead and stopped, mid-step.
“What?” Bloom whispered. She peered into the gloom, training her eyes in the same direction as mine.
“Shhh.” I stilled my breath and sharpened my hearing. Adrenaline streamed through my veins, and my muscles clenched, ready to fight or run, whichever tactic increased my chances of survival.
Boot soles scraped over cobblestones a few yards away. A match flared, igniting the cherry of a cigarette. I heaved a sigh, and my shoulders slumped. The Mortally Challenged avoided open flames, as they tended to be highly flammable, especially the older and more desiccated they became. Whoever had struck the match probably had a pulse, although that didn’t necessarily make him or her an ally.
“Who is it?” Bloom raised her voice above a whisper, just loud enough for the smoker to hear.
The smoker chuckled and stepped closer. Moonlight glinted over his brass breastplate, and he clutched a matching helmet under his arm. A long, thin cigar smoldered from between his fingers. “What are you two doing this far outside the Forces’ patrol zone?” The Forces were Moll’s security guards assigned to roam the perimeter of Mini City. “You ought to get inside.”
“We’re Solo Practitioners,” I said. “Independents.”
He snickered. “Nah, you’re just more of the dead, only you don’t know it yet. Corpse Bait is what we call you.”
Bloom stepped up and offered her hand. The moonlight shined brightly enough so that the stranger noticed the gesture. He stabbed his stogie between his teeth and shook Bloom’s hand. “Bloomington Blite, and this is my sister, Serendipity.”
“The Bliter siblings,” he said, talking around his smoke. “I heard of you from John Brown.”
A growl buzzed in my throat. I’d kick John Brown next time I saw him. If you didn’t work for Moll, then it was best to stay invisible, and that was hard to do with John throwing our names around.
“And who might you be?” I asked. Whoever he was, his friendship with John was certainly no character reference.
Our new acquaintance shrugged. “Corporal Baumgartner, but you can call me Shep.”
Good name for a guard dog. I snickered but tried to cover it with a cough.
“Where are the two of you headed this fine evening?” He blew a stream of smoke into my face. On purpose, I was certain. “What’s worth taking your chances against the Usurpers of the Grave?”
“Wow,” I said, honestly impressed. “Now that’s a name for my collection.”
Shep’s chest puffed out. “Made it up myself just now. It’s a hobby.”
Ah, so Shep and I had something in common, after all. “Living Impersonators,” I said.
“Bone Biters.”
“The Perpetually Decaying.”
“Morbidly Alive.”
“Brain Lickers.”
“Okay,” Bloom said, whispering harshly. “We’re going to stand around in the street and wait for them to chase us down, or can we move on to safer quarters, please?”
“Where are you headed?” Shep asked.
“Livestock,” she said.
“You properly armed, or do you require an escort?”
I flashed my Colt at him. “Don’t need an escort. Brought my own. Besides, won’t Grimes bust you for leaving your post?”
Shep shrugged again. “I’m due for a replacement any minute now. I figure I’ve earned some refreshment.”
Bloom and I agreed to keep the corporal company until his replacement arrived. Then we walked the last few blocks to Livestock together while Shep entertained us with stories of life in Mini City.
“So, how’s it you know John Brown?” I asked when the conversation lulled.
“You live in Grimes’s world long enough, you get to know everyone—whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t like John Brown bringing up our names around Moll and her people.”
Shep’s dark shadow nodded. “I know what you mean. It wouldn’t matter much though. You’d be famous anyway because of who your father was.”
“What about our father?” Bloom had been quiet, but she must have found this turn in our conversation interesting. So did I.
“Cardinal Blite,” Shep said. “Master engineer with the Bloomington Arms Corporation. One of their top guys.”
“Yeah, so?” I said.
“Moll Grimes hasn’t got a gun in all of Mini City that doesn’t have Card Blite’s stamp on it. He was the best. He made the best.”
“Yeah, so?” I said again but with less impertinence than before. Shep was talking about my father. In my mind, he might as well have been talking about a god.
“Word is that his genius didn’t die with him. Word is your sister’s got a brain just like her daddy.”
My heart sank into my gut, and my voice quavered when I said for a third time, “Yeah, so?”
“So... Grimes is interested in mechanical minds. She’s got big plans for bringing this city back to life, literally speaking. There is no America anymore, not like it was. But if there’s going to be anything like it ever again, then Moll aims to be the woman to make it happen, and she’s going to need good help.”
“Is she trying to be the president or something?” I asked.
“Yeah. Something.”
So, Moll Grimes knew about my sister and her “mechanical mind.” I didn’t like it, and Bloom’s talk of getting out of the city sounded more like a good idea than it ever had before. My stomach churned at the thought of leaving the place I had called home for the past nineteen years, but I’d do it.
I’d do anything to keep us away from Moll.