Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Electricity is spotty in the worst areas, gasoline and natural gas are in short supply, but the government has managed to maintain cell service almost everywhere. There’s still Netflix and Bravo with the Kardashians, two of which are now in relationships with orcs. Most say it’s just for ratings, but who knows, and more truthfully, who cares? The Real Housewives of Orange County is still on but those New Jersey gals? Jersey’s a wasteland so, yeah, that’s all re-runs now.
“I hate when you go alone,” Chloe says, as I scan the entry, keeping her voice whispery as though someone might hear besides me. My goggles bounce back everything in hues of green and gray but I’m so accustomed to it, my brain translates it into full color. “What if you have an episode and pass out?”
“I’m a lone wolf,” I say, peeking around the doorway from a back entry mudroom that leads into an expansive white kitchen. There’s the scent of decay and a sadness from a place being closed up too long. On the long black marble island is a long rotten bowl of fruit surrounded by dead gnats that look like spilled pepper through my night vision. Dishes are piled in the sink and two highchairs with long ago-stale Cheerios on the trays stand at the end of the granite island. “Besides, I drank a bottle of water and ate some stale potato chips before I left. Got my hydration and my sodium all set.”
“You’re a lone something,” Chloe says. “You get an adrenaline rush then your blood pressure drops and boom, you’ll be down. I told you I’d go with you.”
I bite back a chuckle. “Chloe, you are many things, but a scavenger is not one of them. You got caught at the last festival taking a grape from the fruit stand.”
She is right about the possibility of me passing out but that’s not going to stop me. I’ve had syncope from low blood pressure since my early teens. I try to eat and drink and keep my salt intake up but sometimes, it hits me out of nowhere and I’m down for the count.
“Everybody takes a grape.” Chloe says as my skin prickles with the thrill of the hunt.
“Yes, they do, but you get caught.” I whisper. “And, you’re ready to pop out that spawn of yours. You are my best friend, but not a good criminal.” I creep along the kitchen wall, spying a butcher block knife holder next to the gleaming stainless steel commercial range.
Score.
I note the Enso emblem on the end of each knife. Back in the before, these sets sold for four G’s, and now, I’ll separate them, sell them individually and make at least that much selling them out of the back of my school bus slash home on wheels.
“Looks like I might have to go,” Chloe hisses, with Levi shouting in the background. “Some appropriators are causing trouble. Not with us, but they’re messing with the that incense vendor with the purple hair. Orcs are one thing, but humans taking on orc culture just to be assholes? I don’t get it.”
“Yes, stupid,” I say. “I should be back in an hour. If you can help me get my booth set up, I’ll be running behind as usual.” I love working the festivals. Doing charcoal and caricatures isn’t high art, but it’s fun and I do my more serious work with the cash I make.
“Okay, but if you’re not back, I’m sending Levi to find you.”
Fuck. “Do not send Levi. He nearly got me killed in Boonville last week.”
She releases a huff. “He was trying to protect you. Those orcs were nuts, come one. You’re five foot nothing and selling them stolen weapons out of the back of the Magic School Bus.”
“I can handle myself. I had something they wanted, they had something I wanted, then Levi fucked it all up flashing that bullshit old badge I gave him as a joke, not so he could pretend he’s part of Judicial Enforcement. Laws don’t mean much anymore everyone knows the JE are as corrupt as any of the gangs.”
I wrap the knives in towels and shove them into my backpack, rifling through a few drawers, scanning, grabbing a thing or two then moving toward the hallway looking at the artistic black and white photographs of two smiling identical looking toddlers and what I assume are their parents. Staring back at me are extremely well-groomed men, with unnaturally white smiles holding hands and beaming at each other. “I’ll see you later. It’s getting dark, I need to concentrate.”
“Okay, but if you’re not back…I’m going to send—”
“Bye.” I pinch my earbud to end the call, releasing a breath, and swallow, orienting myself in the dark space around me.
I work my way through the family room to an office. I scan the room with its dark wood paneling and 60” flat screen over the fireplace then I see it.