Grit and Grace: A Metal and Men Novella (Metal and Men Series Book 1) (3 page)

The deep hum of the truck rumbled in my chest. My stiff fingers protested, but I scrambled up another meter to a window barred with wrought iron. I wrenched the bars apart, scattering dust everywhere. Squeezing, I slipped inside the building and landed heavily on an old desk.

My enhanced eyes adjusted to the dim light. Rows of shelves stretched out before me, bookshelves designed for a time long gone when books made of dead tree were a common thing. Everyone knew paper books were better and everyone knew how valuable they were. Still, paper was a thing of the past, a relic of a time long ago when such things mattered.

The looters hadn't been kind. A few scraps of leather were all that remained of the thousands of tomes that once occupied this library. Dust covered everything, from the shelves to the floor. It hung in the air and swirled to life at the slightest movement. I hopped down onto the floor.

"Hetty," I said, "I'm inside."

"She there?"

"I don't know. Gotta stay quiet now. The Roth boys are searching the place. Connor is above, watching."

"Just find the girl, Winston. Forget about the Roth boys. That many stars and you can buy shiny new guns."

I gritted my teeth. She was right, but something about it bothered me. A nagging feeling, like I was supposed to be doing something else, kept tickling the back of my skull. Also, I doubted my ability to catch the girl with almost no weaponry and very little tech. I didn't get to being the best damn bounty hunter by using nothing but sunshine and roses. It's the toys that gave me the edge. She seemed a bit trickier than your average street thug. The idea sent a wave of pride through my spine. There was no reason for pride that I could remember. Still, the feeling was there.

Connor had instructed his boys to start at the bottom and work their way up. It, therefore, made sense for me to start at the top and work my way down. I had no idea how I would deal with Connor and his aerial firepower, but I figured I'd deal with that later. First step was to find the girl.

I pulled my Colt .45 and looked at it in the greenish light of my artificial senses. It was all but useless to me. Even if I thought it could take down the girl, it would still be so noisy it'd pull the Roth boys down on me in seconds. No, I'd have to come up with something better.

As far as I'm aware, there's only one weapon better than a decent gun: charm. Hell, a winning smile ought to be worth five guns. Maybe ten. I stood straight and adjusted my hat. Brushing the dust and debris off of my coat, I hoped as hard as I could that my nicest smile would draw attention away from my bloody hands and feet.

I walked.

As I strode through the endless aisles of the long-dead library, I reached into the pockets of my coat, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. The warm feeling of nicotine and tar soothed me. I let the cigarette dangle on my lip as I crossed the library and doubled back to cross again.

Then I saw what I was looking for. In the dust near a vent was a single small footprint. I bent down to look at it closely. The edges were sharp, so I knew it was recent. I judged the distance from the vent and the angle where its maker must have pushed off. The trajectory likely took the owner straight toward a three-meter shelf across the aisle from the vent.

I grabbed the shelf and pulled myself up, peeking over the top. Sure enough, the surface up there had been disturbed. The trail led across the top of the shelf and then disappeared. I walked to where it ended and checked the nearby shelves, smiling when I picked up the trail. This was likely one of the easiest trails I'd ever followed; it was a shame I didn't have proper weaponry to take down the target.

The trail went like this for nearly an entire cigarette. Then it stopped.

I peered at the adjacent shelves. I looked at the trail to see if she might have doubled back. I looked at shelves farther away, not sure how far she could jump.

Taking off my hat, I scratched my head and tried to figure what was going on. I pinched out my smoke and flicked it to the ground. I flipped through a few optical sensor arrays, picking up faint traces of residual heat and radiation. Nothing really gave me a good clue about where the girl had gone to. It must have been a false trail. In frustration, I flipped off the sensors in my eyes and peered out into the dark room.

She was there.

The waif of a girl was looking at me with puzzlement all over her face. She was small, with straight hair tied up into ponytails and large almond eyes. She was sitting cross-legged right where the trail ended.

"Lena," I said. "Howdy." Boom. I brought out the smile. I scrambled to put my hat back on so I could tip it properly.

She stared, tilting her head to one side.

"I don't mean you no harm, miss," I said, holding my hands palm out towards her. "Just thinking you might like a chat."

Lena took a turn at smiling. It was a dazzling smile, a charming smile worth ten guns, at least. She had me outgunned in charm-and in speed.

The girl kicked faster than I could even think the idea of kicking. Her heel connected with my jaw and my head snapped back. I stumbled into the shelf behind me.

Metal shelves screeched, twisting and collapsing sideways. My eyes grew wide. I turned and grabbed the shelf, steadying it. Like a slow-motion train wreck, it just kept moving to the next shelf; every time I grabbed part of it, another piece came off in my hand. It was all I could do to keep the noise down as it continued to slowly lean to one side.

"Listen, I…" I slid around the end of the shelf and propped the whole shelf up with my back. The effort wasn't much, but beads of sweat ran down my neck. If the Roth boys had heard the noise, we'd be in trouble. "Lena, listen…"

She hopped forward and landed silently right on top of the shelf I was holding up. "Yes, hunter? What is it?" Her voice was sweet, but her tone was mocking. Twisting around, I could see the grin on her face.

My grip slipped and we shifted down. The shelf touched the one next to it, and that shelf began to wobble.

"Peace," I said. "I'm just here to talk."

Her grin faded. Her brow turned down in anger, and her beautiful eyes flashed a harsh blue. "Hunters don't talk. Hunters track and capture and kill."

I couldn't argue with that.

"I'm not stupid, cowboy." Her knuckles turned white where she gripped the corner of the shelf. The metal shuddered under the tension of her grip. "You're just trying to trick me. I know a safe place, and you want to keep me away from it."

"There's no safe places, girl."

She leaned down, her face inches from mine. "A safe place where nothin' and nobody can find me." She grinned again, but her eyes just said fear.

"Listen," I said. "There's no safe place till we take down those Roth boys. I suggest we team up till that's done and then head our separate ways." I said it with all the charisma of a hyperactive coyote.

Her smile darkened into a frown. "I thought we'd already done that."

"Done what?"

"Gone our separate ways."

My jaw clenched and my head throbbed. "Miss," I said, "I don't recall making any such arrangement."

"Suppose you don't remember a lot of stuff."

Our eyes met and my jaw hardened. My muscles tensed as I made ready to step out from under the shelf and make a grab for the girl. To hell with the plan. To hell with charm. The girl knew about my memory problems, which probably meant she was responsible for them. A man doesn't much appreciate someone messing with his brain.

She smiled, and thoughts of grabbing her slipped away. "Well, Doc Twang, I believe we have a deal."

I bristled at the name. If I hadn’t been in such a tight spot I don’t know what I might have done, but, things being as they were, I calmed myself and nodded. I’d been beat.

Lena hopped down off of the shelf and stood next to me. The tops of her ponytails didn't come to my shoulder, and I'd be damned if she weighed more than thirty kilos. She stuck her hand out and I shook it. My back still supported the shelf. Lena darted away and returned with a couple of steel chairs. She used them to prop up the shelf, and I was able to extract myself without much noise.

I motioned for her to follow me, and we set out quietly across the library. Rather, I was quiet and she was absolutely silent. Twice I looked back just to make sure she was still there, only to find that she was right next to me. She could have killed me, stuck a knife in my ribs, or shot me. I like to pretend that I didn't know it at the time, that I somehow didn't realize how dangerous she was. It's not true. I knew what she was. I knew she could end me whenever she wanted. Maybe I even hoped for it. It'd be a hell of a lot easier than what I figured I was headed for.

We reached a row of shelves near a wide spiral staircase leading down to the lower level. Crouching low, I pulled my knife out and motioned the girl close.

"Gotta split them up," I said. "Do you think you can lure Daryl away so I can jump Charlie on the stairs?"

"How come you're here?" Her expression was dead serious.

"When a fellow gets older, he needs to hold a job." I looked down at the wicked blade of my hunting knife. "Hunting was the most legal thing I could find to put food on the table."

Her expression didn't change. "You hunt little girls for food?"

"I don't suppose I'd put it quite like that."

She looked at me for a few seconds, blinking innocently. When I didn't think she had any more questions, I continued to explain my plan.

"If you were to make some noise to draw—"

"Do you like it?"

"What?"

"Being a bounty hunter."

My jaw clenched. "It has its perks."

"But you don't like it."

"I didn't say that."

"Sure you did."

"No, I—"

"How long have you been a hunter?"

"I…" My mind went blank. How long had it been? Seemed like forever, but then, what was the rest of my life before that? I remember working, doing something else. What was it? "Long time."

"You say it has its perks, but your body says you don't like it. How does your body know that when you don't?"

I turned to her and met her gaze. Lavender flashes of light blazed across her eyes. The naked eye couldn't tell how much tech she was walking around with, but my own scanners might show me something. I mentally switched on my own tech and waited as the visual overlay flashed into my vision. I blinked when what I saw wasn't what I expected.

Lena was gone.

"You can't see me with that old tech, you know." Her voice was right in front of me. "I'm fancy."

I flipped my scanner off and she was back.

"How?"

"I'm fancy."

"Yeah, you said that."

"It's true." She smiled a huge mischievous grin.

"My tech ain't old."

"Obsolete."

"It ain't."

"Obsolete, obsolete." She grinned. "Why do you think they want me so bad?"

"Because you're the boss's daughter."

Her smile faded. She looked away.

I wanted to know more but couldn't figure out how to ask. "So," I said, "you lead Daryl up here, he'll chase you as far as you like."

"And Charlie will come up the stairs."

I nodded.

She grinned and made little gun-shooting motions with her hands. "Taking them out one at a time will be easy."

"Well," I said. "Easier, anyway."

"You're so smart."

I turned to look at her, but she wasn't there. I shook my head and listened. There was a noise from above and a smell I recognized. It was starting to rain. The shattered glass dome above the stairway revealed a flashing tumble of dark clouds. I watched as yellow lightning arced through the night sky and fat drops of rain started to lazily plop down into the abandoned library.

A dark shape passed above. I realized the error in my plan. Connor was up there. If we made any noise, he'd see us. He'd coordinate with his brothers.

"Lena," I whispered. "Hold up."

It was too late.

Lena appeared at the top of the stairs, flickering into view with a rainbow flash of bent light. Apparently being invisible to scanners wasn't always enough, so she could also bend light. It was a harsher bit of tech—same as Charlie Roth used—but it probably gave her some extra options. I'd have to keep that in mind if I ever got around to trying to catch her.

She cupped her hands to her mouth and drew a huge, exaggerated breath. "Hey, jackass," she yelled. "Whatcha doin'?"

"She's up there!" Daryl's voice boomingly echoed from below, followed by his plodding footsteps.

A crack of lightning lit up the sky above, silhouetting the Roth boys' truck. Thunder rumbled as the truck dropped low and lit Lena up with a dozen spotlight beams.

I froze.

"Shit is gonna get ugly," I said.

From behind me, Charlie whispered, "Damn straight."

I spun to face my invisible opponent, but out of the corner of my eye I swear I saw Lena leap fifteen meters into the air, directly at the floating truck.