It Sometimes Snows In May: A B.E.A.N. Police Novella (7 page)

              “I thought you were dead Zota. I didn’t know different until the
guardies
did a broadcast about a John Doe from the hover-shuttle crash at the DMZ,” Ryles says.

“I remembered your face. You were driving a car. I was in the car with you… Then an explosion. The car was spinning,” Zota says. Ryles nodded. “I don’t remember anything before or after that. Morefishco told me he found me in a body bandit fridge, or something.”

“Body bandits? Damn. No wonder Morefishco wasn’t too crazy to see me. How many people did you see before I showed up?”

The
excretas
close in on Ryles and Zota.

“About a two dozen.” Zota grinned.

Ryles unlocks her ground vehicle with a swipe of her hand against a reader embedded in the door panel. Once there are both in the vehicle, Ryles eases the vehicle into the street. “Cloud plate.” Ryles commands. The vehicle registration, external placard image becomes obscure for a few second before its characters morph into a different registration alphanumeric. A block, and two turns later, Ryles glances in the rear view display, and notices the same car has been pursuing them since they got into the vehicle.

“What?” Zota asks.

“That black van has been following us since we left
guardie
HQ.” Ryles says, cutting her eyes to the rear view display.

The van slips in and out of traffic until it catches up with Ryles’ vehicle. Ryles takes a sharp swerve into a narrow side street, scaring few citizens senseless.

“You think they’re after us?” Zota asks

“I know they’re after you. I just happen to be tagging along.” Ryles says.

Ryles’ vehicle makes another sharp turn into what appears to be a dead-end road, but leads into an industrial park. Zota looks into the passenger's side rear display, and sees a figure lean out of the window of the van, with a shoulder-mounted something.

“Now would be a good time to lose the guys behind us. I’m not in

any hurrying to be in another ice box.

             
Ryles looks in the rearview display embedded in the dashboard. “They wouldn’t blow up this ride.” Zota turned to her. “They can sell it once they get rid of us.” Zota’s eyes widen. “They just want us to pull over.”

              “Pull over?” Zota’s asks, deadpan. Ryles doesn’t answer, just grins.

              The bandit leaning out of the van window fires a round out of his shoulder-mounted launcher. The large capsule-like projectile whistles through the air toward Ryles vehicle.

              Alarms blare from the Ryles’ vehicle speakers. INCOMING MISSILE flashes across the screen of the vehicular computer. On the its display, a red dot moves closer and closer to a green dot moving in the same direction, but much slower in comparison.

              Ryles swerves the vehicle hard left and drives towards an alley between two warehouse buildings. “Hang on!”

              The capsule breaks on impact against the rear deck of the vehicle. A gelatinous mass sticks to hull, and begins to grow a red spike. The spike digs into the metal of the hull, burrowing inside.

              “No boom?” Zota asks.

              The dashboard light begin to flicker, and the vehicle begins to lurch forward. “EMP...I’m losing power,” Ryles yells.

              As Ryles’ vehicle slows to a crawl, the bandits speed closer. “Get ready to bounce out the car quick,” Ryles says. Zota nods. “Get my gun.” Ryles tap a button on the navigation controls, which opens a compartment above Zota knees. Zota tentatively pulls the auto-pistol out of the compartment.

Their vehicle does a slow crash into the corner of one of the buildings. Ryles and Zota scramble out of the vehicle and down the alley, as smoke fills the air around them. “Hold your breath, and move!” Ryles pushes Zota ahead of her. After about five seconds of break-neck speed, Ryles spins around, and begins firing down the alley in the direction they came from. The bandits back-up momentarily, taking cover behind Ryles’ vehicle. Ryles taps her her smart-watch twice. “Come on.”

              Ryles and Zota duck down a cross street. A loud explosion in the distance, startles Zota, but he keeps running.

             
Elisa and Aalin stand in the upstairs hallway of Elisa’s mansion. Elisa is dressed in a pearlescent skirt suit, while Aalin dries his face with a towel. The monogram on the bathrobe he’s wearing read, “ZC”.

              “You said he had been taken care of,” Elisa says.

              “What’s this all about.” Aalin slips both arms around Elisa, resting his large palms on her buttocks. “Bad day at the office?”

“Don’t try to butter me Aalin, it’s ill-advised. I’m hardly in the mood.” Elisa lightly smacks Aalin’s arms down, and slips out of his grasp.

Aalin’s smile disappears. “Okay… What happened?”

“This.” Elisa puts her PDA in Aalin face and taps a button to stream a video. It’s a newscast featuring Zota as John Doe. Aalin’s face hardens as he watches the highlights of the video.

“Where did you get this? How do you know it isn’t some hoax,” Aalin says.

“Because the individual who sent this to me, knew he was my husband,” Elisa says.

“Do you recognize the address?” Aalin asks.

“No. It came in as spam,” Elisa says.

“Did you reply?”

“Reply?” Elisa walks to the railing. “I deleted the blood e-mail.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it personally,” Aalin says.

“No! No more skullduggery,” Elisa says.

              Alan recoils. “Are you getting sentimental?” Aalin watches Elisa face intently. “I have no interest in going to prison.”

“Don’t get nervous. It doesn’t suit you.” Elisa get up close to Aalin. “All this person knows is that Zota was my husband. Zota clearly can’t confirm that or he wouldn’t be a John Doe, and the Ispari authorities would have contacted me by now.

“So what’s the plan?” Aalin leans against the railing looking at Elisa. Elisa in turn begins rubbing her hand across his bare chest.

“Keep it simply silly. I will go to Ispari and get my ex-husband. Then you will see to it that he has a more permanent retirement,” Elisa says.

Ryles open the door with her fingerprint and voice activation through an access panel in the front door. The door slides open. Ryles stumbles in, and then collapses on a plush, beige couch.

Zota enters the room after Ryles, and examines the apartment with an open floor plan. A kitchen to the left with an adjoining bar to the right of the door, while the living-room where he find Ryles sprawled on the coach. On the corner table Zota sees an oil painting of the two of them, with Ryles leaning against him.

“Soooo...what’s going on?” Zota asks.

“The bad guys didn’t get you today,” Ryles replies. “You can thank me later.”

“Who are you? And don’t tell me you’re my sister,” Zota says.

Ryles takes her hands off her face and look up to the ceiling. She presses a couple of buttons on her PDA. Moments later a house robot, about the size and shape of a ottoman, brings her a glass half-full of whisky. Its aroma invades Zota’s sense and bring about a frown of recollection. “Didn’t we already go through this?”

“You had me going until I saw that picture. I had a flashback of you and kissing me.” Zota circled around the couch while running his finger along its spine, until he go behind Ryles. Then Zota knelt so his head was now behind hers. “It felt like someone lit a match and kept it just far enough away from my mouth not to burn.”

Ryles could feel his hot breath at the back of her ear, and then down her neck. “Don’t get it twisted. You don’t know me like that…” Zota lay his hand on Ryles shoulder, and let it rest there. His head now besides hers. Ryles head resting and still tilted up, focused at no point on the ceiling in particular.

“Then there was the way you handled Morefishco, and those bandits in the alley. You didn’t even blink. I just about pissed my pants,” Zota says. “You’re
daiswright
, ex-militia or something, right?”

“I...I’m a teacher,” Ryles says.

“What martial arts?” Zota says. “Then teach me.”

Zota closes in on Ryles until his lips are inches from hers. Suddenly, Ryles whips out an auto-pistol and jams it against Zota temple. Zota winces. His mind flashes back to being back in a sports car, driving down a deserted road with Ryles in the passenger’s seat. Ryles mouths something. “I
said
...we don’t have that kind of relationship.”

Zota opens his eyes, the metal of the barrel presses deep into his temple.

“Easy, easy. I’m gonna get up, go into the bathroom, and take a cold shower now. Right after I change my drawers,” Zota says.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Ryles rotates herself off the couch with the auto-pistol still pointed at Zota. Zota can feel his knees begin to throb as he remains behind the couch.

“Are you a bounty hunter?” Zota asks. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“It’s kinda nice to see you on your knees. I think I like the new
you
better,” Ryles says. “Plus, I’m not interested in turning you in for cash. I don’t hate you that much. You and I…”

“Dating? Yeah, I guessed that much. So what went wrong? You caught me with another woman? I’m sure it won’t do any good to say, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t remember,” Zota says.

“Ha ha!” Ryles steps backs a bit. “I
like
the new you, but please don’t ruin it by getting off your knees.” Ryles circles around the couch and behind Zota, and then quietly slips her auto-pistol back into her thigh holster. Oh we were in a relationship...a business relationship. What went wrong was that the ware we were supposed to deliver doesn’t work, so we didn’t get paid.

“Is there a back-up?” Zota asks.

“Oh yeah,” Ryles says.

“How do you know?”

“I know you,” Ryles says. “And for both our sakes, there better be.”

At Ispari State Guard Headquarters, Morefishco sits at his desk running Zota’s picture against images in a federal database. Moments later Patel appears at Morefishco’s open door, and knocks.

“Can I speak with you?” Patel asks.

Morefishco waves in him quickly with irritation and brings his attention back to his desktop display. Images are still flying by on the screen. Patel steps in and then stands in front of Morefishco cluttered desk.

“The John Doe person you asked me to track…”

Morefishco looks up. “Don’t tell me, his sister killed him?”

“Um no...but if she is a teacher, then I am a boy scout,” Patel says.

Morefishco rolls back in his seat and lets out a laugh. “But you are boy scout.”

Patel grins and passes Morefishco a slip of net-paper. “Surveillance cameras caught Mary Brown in an altercation with a group of body bandits. John Doe was with her.”

Morefishco taps on the net-paper and watches play-back of the body bandits chasing Ryles and Zota, and end with an explosion. “I see Brown shooting, and I see the explosion, but I don’t see any bodies.”

“Nothing could have survived that,” Patel says.

“Don’t be so sure.”

“She’s not a school teacher chief,” Patel says.