30
EMERSYN
After being isolated in the wilderness, the sights and sounds as I entered the town were overwhelming.
Leaving the cabin had been harder than I anticipated.
I’d given so much of myself to that forest—blood, sweat, tears—it felt like home.
I’d grown up among those trees and not only had I found myself, I’d found a father figure in the stoic Russian.
I buried Sacha in the back field under the tree he’d first taught me to shoot at.
Then, I spent the two weeks that followed cleaning up the cabin and getting it ready to abandon.
I burned the bodies, boarded up the windows, and plotted my exit strategy that involved a long multi-day hike to the nearest town.
Fang whined. He seemed equally nervous to be among people and stuck close to my leg. Despite being a small town, there was enough car and foot traffic to put me on edge, and I couldn’t blend in very well with a wolf-dog at my side. I quickly found a pay phone and dialed the number Sacha gave me.
“Yeah?” A gruff voice answered on the first ring.
“Um, I need a ride,” I said awkwardly.
“Who is this?”
“I was told to say the word ‘sanctuary’ and you’d take me wherever I needed to go.”
There was a long pause. So long, I thought he’d maybe hung up.
“Hello?”
“What’s your location?”
I told him the street I was on and before I could even finish the sentence the line went dead.
I pulled my hood up and waited in the shadows, my nerves at an all time high as I scanned the street for threats.
Fang grew restless and wandered off in a nearby lot to chase squirrels.
I kept a close eye on him, but even he grew bored of that and eventually found his way back to my side and took a nap.
An hour later, a pickup truck pulled up to the curb and the window rolled down. A man in his early thirties gazed at me over aviators. He was wearing a long-sleeve green henley, with a backward baseball cap. His eyes dropped to Fang, and he pursed his lips.
“The mutt goes in the back,” the man snapped.
I helped Fang into the bed of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. The moment I slammed the door, I shoved my back against it and pulled my gun low and concealed at my hip.
“Code word,” I said.
He moved the toothpick in his mouth around to the other side, glanced briefly down at the gun in disinterest and put the truck into drive.
“Sanctuary.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure no cars were coming. “Damn Sacha and his fucking code words,” he grumbled as he pulled away from the curb.
I still hadn’t put the gun away, but the man didn’t seem phased.
“How do you know Sacha?” I asked.
“Known the old bastard for years. I do his supply runs,” the man answered.
That surprised me. He looked back down at the gun I still had pointed at him.
“You gonna put that away and tell me where you want me to drop you?” I scowled, but shoved the gun back in my hip holster. “And buckle your seat belt, Jesus."
I clicked the belt into place. I’d thought long and hard about where I wanted to be driven, but it was more of a specific type of person I hoped to connect with.
“Do you know a tech guy you could put me in touch with?”
“What kind of tech guy?”
“Someone who is good with computers.”
The man gave me another once over. “How old are you?”
I crossed my arms. “None of your fucking business. Do you know someone or not?”
He took a minute to reply, one arm slung over the top of the wheel as his other hand fiddled with the toothpick.
“Yeah, I know a guy.” He glanced over again. “I thought Sacha lived alone.”
He made it sound like an accusation.
“Wouldn’t you know if you did Sacha’s supply drops?”
The man grunted. “I’m not his personal shopper.”
The silence filled the cab of the truck for another stretch of road.
“He’s dead, isn’t he,” the man said flatly.
My lips thinned. “Why would you say that?”
“Answer the question.”
I gave a curt nod. The man’s knuckles grew white on the wheel and a dark look came over his face.
“You kill him?”
“What?” I exclaimed. “No!”
“How’d he die then?” He asked.
I frowned out the front window, not at all enthused about being forced to talk about it.
“Men came in a helicopter,” I said.
“Who were they?”
“How should I know?”
“Well, describe them—did they have any patches on their clothes—anything on the bird?”
My jaw clenched in irritation. I didn’t want to think about anything associated with that day.
“Well?” He pressed.
“No—I don’t know—he said it was his past catching up to him—Sacha wasn’t–he wasn’t really forthcoming with information,” I said.
The man grunted in reply, but it seemed to appease him because he didn’t ask anything else.
The minutes stretched to hours and despite my best efforts, the gentle rocking of the truck and the warm interior made my eyes grow heavy, and I couldn’t fight off sleep any longer.
There was a touch on my arm. I lunged forward, grabbed his wrist and dragged it down while I shoved my gun under his chin.
We were stopped and it was dark out. He’d ditched his aviators and cold brown eyes hardened further as he went still.
He looked on in annoyance but didn’t fight, more so just watched calmly while I got my bearings.
“We’re here,” he grumbled.
I let him go and he slid back across the seat and exited the driver's side door.
I hopped out and slung my pack over my shoulder, then helped Fang out of the bed.
He pressed against my leg, hackles raised as he looked around.
He could obviously tell I was uncomfortable, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he watched the man walk around the truck towards us.
We were in a warehouse district and for a moment my nerves surged again.
It was dark and isolated out here. I still had the gun in hand down by my side. He frowned at it.
“Lev isn’t going to like that, best put it away for now,” he said.
When I didn’t move fast enough he folded his arms and glared. “I’ll wait.”
“Fine, fine,” I grumbled.
I shoved it in a holster in the back of my jeans and held up my hands to show him.
The man moved toward a door and knocked three times.
He stepped back and looked up at a video camera and saluted it casually.
There was a click and the man pulled open the door.
I followed after him into the dim hallway.
We walked into an empty industrial apartment.
I was confused until the man moved toward the far wall and pushed in a brick.
A false wall appeared and slid aside to reveal another set of brightly-lit stairs.
I couldn’t help but gasp as we emerged into a large warehouse.
I knew we were underground, but it didn’t feel like it with the vaulted ceilings.
“Riggs! My man!” A lithe, young guy in his twenties appeared from behind a bank of monitors.
He rolled his chair out and stood up. Despite the chill, he wore cargo pants, flip flops and a Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned with a white tank underneath.
His blond hair was worn shaggy around his ears and he looked like he should be out surfing instead of behind a computer.
He came over, a blinding megawatt smile on his face.
“It’s good to see your ugly mug of course, but who is this beautiful creature?
And I don’t mean the dog—” He made an elaborate bow, and before I could evade him, he grabbed my hand and brought it up to hover inches from his lips.
A low rumble from Fang made him drop it quickly, but the twinkle of amusement didn’t leave his eyes.
“It’s a pleasure, my lady. My name is Lev. What are you doing keeping company with this degenerate, hm?”
My driver, whose name was apparently Riggs, scoffed. “Careful, she might shoot you, she’s one of Sacha’s.”
Understanding crossed Lev’s face, along with something darker I didn’t understand.
“Ah, well, I come in peace,” he chuckled. “What can I help you two with?”
“Not me,” Riggs grumbled. “I did my job. She’s your problem now.”
Lev stopped his perusal and looked over at Riggs. “Ah, come on, man, I haven’t seen you in years—”
“It’s been six months,” Riggs interrupted.
“Yeah, that’s a long time to not see your best friend!” Lev insisted indignantly.
Riggs ran a hand down his face in exasperation. “I’m not—”
“Have a beer, a nap maybe, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” Lev peered at Riggs with a frown. “You having issues again—”
“Stop,” Riggs snapped. “Fine. I’ll stay until morning.”
He stalked off to a living area that glowed cozily in a corner, complete with a kitchen and comfy looking couches.
Lev put his hands on his hips. “Now, what can I help you with, my dear?”
“Well, I—”
Lev held up his hand. “Name first. I don’t work with strangers.”
I’d debated the entire hike out of the forest what name I was going to go by once I reached civilization.
Part of me wanted to flaunt my full name, just in case by some off chance my father caught wind of it.
The other part was a little more cautious.
I didn’t want the wrong people to learn I was alive before I had my own plans in place to take them down.
Because of that, I’d settled on a compromise.
“Syn.”
Lev held out his hand and I took it. He shook it firmly and jerked his head toward his computers.
“Well, Syn, come into my office and let’s chat.”
Lev pulled up a chair for me and sat down with his ankle crossed over his knee. He propped his chin on his fist and waited. I sat down carefully on the edge of the chair.
“I need information.”
“Information is expensive,” he answered bluntly.
My hopes plummeted. I’d found some cash in Sacha’s room, but I just knew it probably wasn’t the amount he was talking about.
“Don’t worry about money—if Sacha is dead like you say, you’re rich, girl,” Riggs called.
“Sacha’s dead?” Lev said at the same time I said, “What?”
Riggs popped a bottle cap off a beer and took a long sip. “He left it all to you.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.