The Black Tide (Outcast 3)

“Yes,” Jonas said. “But for a smaller cut.”

A dark-haired woman with wine-colored eyes glanced around as we entered the ATV. “Nice to see you again, Jonas. Now belt up so we can get this beast on the road.”

“Sherry, this is Tiger,” Jonas said, ushering me to a seat behind the other woman.

I was inordinately pleased that he sat beside me rather than move on to the co-driver seat.

“Nice to meet you, love.” Sherry punched various buttons. As the door closed and the ATV’s engines grumbled back to life, she added, “We’ve been told to get you onto the second-last string into Central, so we’re pushing for time. There are some protein bars in the rear storage if you’re hungry.”

I was and, over the course of the sometimes-rough journey, demolished all but three of them. Those I left for Jonas.

We reached the refuel station just as the first threads of dusk were beginning to stain the sky. I peered over Sherry’s shoulder and studied the sprawling complex. As the last refuel stop before Central City, this place had to cater not only to the many trucks and haulers heading in and out of Central, but also all those who were using the rail system. So there was not only a multitude of docking stations offering the different fuel options, but also a large eatery and what looked to be accommodation—something I hadn’t noticed last time I was here. Nor had I noticed the brothel at the far end. I guess it wasn’t all that surprising given the sex trade had been a respectable business for decades now and that for many, sex equaled relaxation. Of course, anyone setting up such a business had to follow strict guidelines regarding health and safety, and also had to pay their taxes in a timely manner.

It was odd, however, to find one outside the well-protected confines of a main city. But maybe the risk was factored into both the price charged and the money earned by those who worked there.

Sherry skirted the closest parking area and squeezed the ATV between two larger haulers. “Right,” she said, as she shut everything down and opened the door. “I’m off for coffee. You two wait five minutes and then head over to the rail station. There’s a camera behind the truck on our right, so keep your back to that and you’ll be fine. Oh, and there’s a change of clothing for you both in the side locker. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Jonas said, but he was talking to her retreating back. He twisted around in the seat and flipped open the storage container. “There’re a couple of coveralls, a kaftan, and a tunic in here—which one do you want?”

“Unless you’ve taken a sudden fancy for women’s clothing, I’ll take the tunic.”

He handed it over then dragged out one of the coveralls for himself. The tunic was a pale pink rather than the silver gray of my other one, but it was similar in style—full-length and split to the thigh along one side to allow easier movement. The soft wool of the material enhanced rather than hid curves, and I knew from the many times I’d worn the same type of garment in the various camps I'd been assigned to during the war that they were not only extremely comfortable, but also sexy.

I once again made Jonas turn around and did a quick changeover. I also altered my features and changed my hair color to red so that anyone who’d seen me at the warehouse wouldn’t recognize me. That I did it so quickly without experiencing undue dizziness or weakness was surprising. Or maybe it really wasn’t, given these changes—or rather, improvements in my own natural abilities—were more than likely the result of being caught in

that damn rift. There was no other logical reason for it to be happening. Not when I’d experienced neither physical nor psychic changes or enhancements in all my years of existence before then.

“Right,” I said, “You may turn around now.”

“I don’t know why someone who was designed to seduce should be so damn modest when there’s no one else here but us.” His gaze skimmed me. “You need to wear those tunics more often. They do suit you.”

My cheeks dimpled. “Thanks.”

He glanced at the timer in the ATV’s control panel. “The train will be here in ten minutes, so we’d best move. You go first. I’ll follow a few seconds later.”

I nodded and headed out. After a brief pause in the shadows of the large hauler, I headed for the rear of the ATV and turned left. The long rail platform was already filling with people, all of them waiting for the glowing, caterpillar-like pods that would transport them back to Central after a long day of working in the various production zones that provided the city with the necessities of life.

I walked to the station without incident, and made my way to the midpoint section of the platform, where the crowd was the thickest. Jonas joined me a few minutes later and, as the string of pods silently pulled into the station, slipped his fingers through mine. I didn’t know if it was to ensure we didn’t get separated, and I didn’t really care. I just enjoyed the warmth of his touch.

We made our way to the rear of the pod and sat down. A bell chimed and the doors closed. Within seconds we were leaving, the countryside blurring as the train picked up speed. Neither of us said anything, but the ghosts had fun, looking over everyone’s shoulders and reporting back on what they were reading or eating. It was a somewhat amusing way to spend the hour it took us to get back to Central.

As the pod pulled into Central’s station, I glanced at Jonas. “Are you heading back home?”

“Home” being the bunker we were currently sharing, not Chaos, where he lived with Nuri and two of her other mercs, Branna and Ela.

He nodded. “I’m supposed to be monitoring all the equipment there, remember.”

The bunker had—up until very recently—been the site of a museum dedicated to not only preserving the last few bits of the day-to-day operational center of the Human Development Project, but also to emphasizing the evilness of gene manipulation and creating humanoids.

But Dream and her cohorts had blown much of it up in an effort to stop me accessing the place. In the process, the tunnels that were my main way in and out had collapsed, and one of them had taken half the hill with it. Central’s engineers had consequently advised the Council to run a series of stability tests on the area before deciding on the viability of the museum. They were under the impression the southern exit had been part of an old sewer network that once ran under the area, and were worried that further collapses could endanger the whole hillside.

Nuri had been handed the task of finding someone willing to monitor the equipment twenty-four seven, and Jonas had stepped into the position not only to provide a quick and easy means of communication between me and Nuri, but to keep me out of Chaos and away from Branna.

If he comes after you again, Bear said, I will hit first and ask questions later.

A smile twitched my lips. I didn’t normally approve of attacking someone without provocation, but in Branna’s case, I was more than happy to make an exception.

I pushed up from the seat as the doors opened and people began to file out of the pod. “I’ll return in the morning then.”