Tainted Trail

  This was a new name for Ukiah, and apparently an unexpected one for Sam. She looked even more puzzled.

  “What is this Barkley saying?” Mix asked.

  Elaine held up a finger, leaned across the bar, and repeated the drink order from the table. “He’s here somewhere. Ask him yourself. I’ve got work to do.”

  “We want to ask you questions about Alicia Kraynak.” Ukiah pushed the conversation back to Alicia. “We’ve been told that she came to talk to you last week.”

  “Yeah, she was here,” Elaine shouted over the din. “Look, let me get these orders in, and I’ll be back out to talk to you.”

  Elaine vanished into the kitchen, already calling out food orders.

  Max leaned in close to Sam to ask, “Who is Ricky Barkley? Do you see him?”

  Sam scanned the room. “If he’s here, he’s in one of the other rooms. He’s a jerk. He went to school with my ex. Then again, almost everyone has some connection to Peter. He works the night shift at the flour mill and lives up on South Nye, just down from the Red Lion. I served him papers once on a bad debt. I haven’t seen him in months.”

  “Any idea how he would know Ukiah?”

  Sam shook her head. Elaine came sailing out of the kitchen, holding aloft a tray of food in her left hand, and three plates stacked up her right arm. She delivered the food to a table on the other side of the bar from the booth, taking in new requests as she placed dishes in front of seated people. She came to drop drink orders at the bar, then turned back to them.

  “Okay, the girl was here last Saturday night. She’d been out to the Tamástslikt and saw the photo of Magic Boy. I told my mother that was a bad idea and that Pap-pap shouldn’t have loaned it out.”

  “And Alicia told you about Ukiah.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t believe her,” Elaine said. “Magic Boy’s been missing for like eighty years, and most of us didn’t believe those family legends. Jared is one of the biggest unbelievers, so if stud muffin here”—she patted Ukiah on the arm—“has him convinced, that’s good enough for me. I told Alicia, though, that there was no way he could be Magic Boy.”

  “What did she tell you?” Ukiah asked.

  “She had a few beers, waiting for me to have time to talk, and she got a little sloshed. She told me how cute you are and how she had a huge crush on you and how some old Chinese-Hawaiian-White-Russian bitch snatched you out of the cradle when she had the decency to leave you there.”

  Max burst out laughing.

  “Indigo isn’t old,” Ukiah protested. “She’s twenty-six.”

  “Yeah, that’s the name. Indigo. It didn’t sound Chinese to me.” Elaine gathered up drinks, preparing to move off. “And I didn’t want to touch the White Russian bit with a ten-foot pole. Talk about old grudges.”

  “Did she talk to anyone else?” Ukiah asked.

  “I don’t know,” Elaine said. “One of the other girls had called in sick and I barely had time to sneeze. Lot of the same people are here tonight. Maybe someone else noticed her talking to someone.”

  “Is it always this crowded?” Max asked.

  Sam was shaking her head, even as Elaine said, “No, things are building up for the roundup.”

  With that Elaine hurried off again.

  Max caught the look on Ukiah’s face and laughed again. “Kid, you’re fated to be thought of as much younger than you really are.”

  “Well, it’s starting to really suck,” Ukiah said. “What did she mean about White Russian?”

  “Milk, vodka, and Kahlua,” Sam said with a grin.

  Max threw Sam an amused warning look that said “cute, but don’t confuse the boy.” “White Russians are a political party, like Republicans. Kraynak’s grandfather went afoul of them in Czechoslovakia during the Russian civil war. I’m not sure if I followed the whole mess, but it’s the reason the Kraynaks are in Pennsylvania instead of the old country.”

  “Chinese, Hawaiian, Russian? That’s one mutt puppy you date,” Sam said. “She’s probably pretty, though. It’s like God is trying to tell us something when the most beautiful people in the world are racially mixed.”

  “Like yourself,” Max quipped, and then seemed to regret it. “Let’s split up. If we descend in a herd, we’ll spook people.”

  So they scattered, hoping to find anyone that saw Alicia the week before. More people were drifting in through the front door, making the place even more crowded as the private investigators drifted apart. Ukiah had worked his way into another room, flashing Alicia’s photograph and getting no answers.

  “Did you see this woman last week?” he asked a tall, dark-haired man with a scar running up from his eye like an exclamation point.

  “Hey!” The man grabbed Ukiah by the front of his shirt, and shoved Ukiah sideways into a knot of men and women; who parted and regrouped to surround Ukiah and his captor. “This is the guy, Peter!”

  Peter Talbot perched on a bar stool, flanked close by the watching locals, like a king and his court. “What the hell are you talking about, Ricky?”

  “Sam’s Harley was parked outside of the Red Lion all night, and then she came out with this guy.” Ricky was heavily muscled and putting it to use to hold Ukiah still. “Sam and him were all lovey-dovey and kissy-face in the parking lot.”

  A howl went up from Talbot’s court, a dangerous sound, promising trouble. It attracted the attention of more men and women, who formed a second rank of onlookers.

  “Sam finally got nailed,” Ricky laughed. “Looks like you’re going to be eating sloppy seconds, Talbot.”

  “Asshole!” Peter Talbot breathed a fog of whiskey in Ukiah’s direction. “I told you to leave my wife alone.”

  “She’s not your wife,” Ukiah started to protest.

  Ricky gave Ukiah a shake. “Shut up, adulterer!”

  “I’m amazed that you can put that many syllables together, Ricky.” Sam made her way to Ukiah’s side, earning a laugh from some of the crowd.

  “Shut up, slut!” Ricky pushed her back into the crowd. “You act so prissy, but you spread for the first pretty-boy Indian that came sniffing after you.”

  Sam hauled back and punched him.

  Ricky went down and was pulled to his feet by his jeering friends. “You’re lucky, slut, that I don’t hit women.”

  “Well, then, this fight should be easy for me.” Sam punched him again.

  A second laugh went up from the onlookers, and one man called, “Get him, Sam!” but a woman plunged through the crowd, shouting, “You bitch!” to launch herself at Sam. Ukiah ducked a grab from Peter and a punch from Ricky but caught a jab to his left eye from one of Peter’s court. There were simply too many hands to dodge them all.

  There was a deep, menacing growl from behind him, and the smell of wolf hit him. The men facing Ukiah caught sight of what was coming and suddenly scrambled backward.

  Ukiah turned.

  Rennie Shaw towered over most of the men around Ukiah by a head. Black-haired, dressed in leather pants and a long, leather duster, he blended into the shadows except for the doglike gleam of his eyes. He stalked forward, men parting as if shoved back by an invisible shield. Ukiah knew there was no power there except fear. The leader of the Dog Warriors exuded menace that had even Ukiah backing up.

  “Rennie!”

  In a grab faster than any man could move, Rennie caught Ukiah by the throat, thumbs crushing down on his windpipe, and lifted him up off the ground.

  “Wait!” Ukiah tried to say, but it came out as “Urk!”

  “Did you sleep with his woman, cub?”

  “I’m not his woman, and it’s no one’s business but mine who I slept with,” Sam stated, putting a gun to Rennie’s head, her voice tight but level. “Put him down,” she ordered calmly. “You’re crushing his windpipe. You might kill him even if that’s not your intent.”

  Peter Talbot grinned from behind Sam. “You spend a lot of time protecting your new boyfriend, Sammie Anne.”

  “Shut up, Peter,”
Sam said without taking her eyes from Rennie. “Don’t mess with me when I’m pissed. You know what happens.”

  “Well?” Rennie asked, mind to mind. “Did you have intercourse?”

  “No. We did sleep in a big bed together, but I was wounded. Nothing happened.”

  Rennie put Ukiah down. “Fine. Keep it that way.”

  Sam tucked away her gun, cautiously, swearing softly.

  “Hey, you’re not going to let him go?” Ricky reached for Ukiah.

  Rennie caught Ricky under the arm and flung him backward over the bar. Peter yelled and started for Rennie. Rennie reached under his leather duster and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun with the flair of a magician producing a rabbit. He leveled it at the local men, thumbing back the hammers. The men jerked to a halt.

  “Someone in this town shot my boy.” Rennie growled softly. “I’m here to make sure no one messes with him again.”

  “I think it’s time to leave,” Max sang softly into Ukiah’s ear, pulling him backward. He had Sam by the elbow.

  “What about Ukiah’s father?” Sam sounded like she was asking for form’s sake, not like she actually wanted anything to do with Rennie.

  “Let the maniac get himself out of this,” Max said. “The more distance we put between us and him, the better.”

  They had left Sam’s Harley by the courthouse park, with the statue of Sheriff Til Taylor watching over it. Max parked behind the motorcycle and they got out. Under the spread of the trees, the park was now a pool of dark stillness. Sam disturbed the night’s calm by pacing the sidewalk, shaking excess energy out of her hands.

  “What the hell was all that macho crap about?” she demanded, her voice tight with anger. “Why did he grab Ukiah like that? Why does he care if the kid slept with me or not? Why is everyone suddenly going apeshit about my sex life?”

  Ukiah looked to Max, helpless to explain Rennie’s attack in any reasonable terms. Rennie’s reactions were wrapped tight around Ontongard biology, alien invasion tactics, and Ukiah’s status as the only breeder ever created on Earth.

  Once the Ontongard left their home world, they discovered that hosts on subsequent planets usually died, instead of becoming Gets. The Ontongard off-balanced this problem with newly stolen knowledge of genetic manipulation, turning weapons aimed at them to their advantage. All following invasions started with creating half-breeds, children with a mix of alien and native genetics, breeders able to mate with the native life and create children with certain genetic weaknesses. The breeders themselves could resist the Ontongard infection—too like their fathers to succumb—but the next generation made perfect hosts.

  Ukiah had been the only breeder created before his father, Prime, destroyed the scout ship that brought Hex and Prime to Earth. The Pack had thought Ukiah killed in the scout ship’s destruction and were horrified to discover he wasn’t. Their first response was to try and kill him. Luckily, Rennie noticed that despite Ukiah’s nearly two hundred years of sexual maturity, he had no children.

  The Dog Warriors had been willing to let a nonbreeding breeder live. They even allowed Ukiah to continue his relationship with Indigo, with liberal use of birth control.

  The Pack would not, however, allow him to take a second lover. They would kill Ukiah first.

  How to explain any of that to Sam?

  “We warned you.” Max pulled out his cigar case, a sure sign that he was rattled. “Shaw is dangerous.”

  “I just pulled a gun in a bar!” Sam was fighting to keep calm. “I can lose my carry permit over this. I can get arrested for this. I want to know why.”

  Max focused his attention on lighting his cigar. “Shaw has issues; they’re between him and Ukiah. If I’d known he was coming, I wouldn’t have asked you to take care of Ukiah. You’re better off not getting involved with Shaw.”

  “Hello! I just put a gun to the man’s head!” Realization flashed over Sam’s face, filling her eyes with fear. “Shit! I just pulled a gun on a homicidal lunatic.”

  “Rennie won’t hold that against you.” Ukiah offered what scant comfort he could. “He’ll probably respect you for standing up to him and appreciate you coming to my rescue.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Sam shook a finger in Max’s direction. “This is the same man that Max just called dangerous?”

  Max took a deep drag on the cigar, and then breathed twin columns of smoke out his nose. Another drag and he had chosen his words, and began to speak. “Rennie’s part of a paramilitary group known as the Pack. They have objectives you’re better off not knowing. All their crimes stem from those activities. They’re not crazy. They’re not random killers. I wouldn’t have left the bar if I thought there was real chance of Rennie killing those idiots. He’ll rough them up, scare them good, and leave.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  Max shrugged. “Reasonably.”

  “Rennie won’t kill an innocent bystander,” Ukiah said with some truth. The full truth was if Rennie couldn’t avoid the killing, he would take anyone down, just making it quick and clean as possible. There just wasn’t any reason, though, that Rennie would need to kill anyone at the bar.

  “He is dangerous,” Max repeated. “But by protecting Ukiah, you’ve probably earned yourself a great deal of immunity. Just don’t sleep with Ukiah, and things will be fine.”

  “You’re making that last part up,” Sam said.

  “No, he’s not,” Ukiah said quietly. “Rennie might have killed me if we had sex.”

  “Why?”

  “There are some things you’re better off not knowing,” Max said.

  Sam gazed at Max who screened himself with smoke. “Okay,” she said, after trying to search his features for some answer to her questions. “I should have known when you weren’t there chewing on Shaw’s head for hurting your partner, that I didn’t need to get all excited. I chose to pull my gun. You keep your secrets—I’ll keep mine—this relationship is for a short haul. But if you lie to me, Bennett, I’ll teach you the meaning of regret.”

  Max took another drag on his cigar.

  Sam narrowed her eyes. “This is where you’re supposed to say, ‘Yes, madam, I won’t lie to you.’ ”

  “Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies,” Max said quietly.

  “That’s a shitty answer.”

  “It’s the only truthful one I can give you.”

  “Men!” Sam turned to Ukiah. “Well, Wolf Boy? Do you have any oblique and obtuse comments you want to add?”

  Ukiah shook his head.

  “I thought as much,” Sam grumbled, then headed toward her Harley. “I’m tired. I’m going home and sleep by myself!”

  Annoyance flashed across Max’s face. He raised a hand in farewell to Sam as she pulled away, sweeping them with her motorcycle’s headlight.

  “Sorry, Max,” Ukiah said when darkness cloaked them again.

  Max snorted, flaring his cigar tip to red brilliance. “The old adage applies here, kid—you can’t pick your relatives.”

  The prickle of Pack sense swept over him, indicating that Rennie had moved into his range of awareness and was looking for him. Cub?

  “Rennie is looking for me. I should talk to him. Maybe alone—he might be fairly hyped by the fight.”

  Max cursed softly, not answering Ukiah directly. He went instead to the Blazer, opened the back and got one of the tracers. “Put this on. I want to be able to find you—especially if you’re going to be alone with him. Call me if you need help.”

  Rennie came out of the shadows, his duster flaring out as he walked. He carried a small pack, which might have held clothes or explosives—one could never be sure with Rennie. Ukiah knew that the Pack leader probably had already secreted guns, ammo, food, and gear close at hand.

  “You’ve been a tricky one to find today.” Rennie dropped the pack and opened his arms, the sudden violence at the bar ignored since it couldn’t be forgotten without bloodshed.

  And despite everything, Ukiah found himself pleased
to see the leader of the Dog Warriors. He hugged Rennie tightly and was pounded on the back with rough affection. Under cigarette smoke, spilled liquor, and coat leather, Ukiah could smell Rennie’s wolf-tainted scent. The gruff welcome ended with a light bite on his ear, a slight reminder of his place as child among the Pack.

  “You didn’t have to come!” Ukiah said.

  “Yes, I did. You are too alone here.”

  “I have Max.”

  “Cub, think. If you land in a hospital mortally wounded, as soon as you die, they will cut you open to see what killed you. Remember what happened to Janet Haze. They gutted her and took out all her organs and weighed them individually.”

  Ukiah shuddered, his individual organs reacting to such a fate. “Max will keep me—”

  “Cub,” Rennie caught Ukiah and shook him hard. “He’s just a mortal man. One blow to the head, knocking him out, and he’ll no longer be there for you.”

  Ukiah hunched his shoulders up against the idea of Max being hurt. “Why did you come alone, then?”

  “I left the Dogs to watch over your little one,” Rennie said. “The Demon Curs are the closest gang, but I trust Degas as far as I can spit him. I’ve given him plenty of reasons to hate me.”

  One of Rennie’s memories darted through Ukiah’s thoughts, and he caught hold of it.

  . . . Cold rain pounded on Rennie’s shoulders as he gazed down at Degas’s body, blood pouring out into the mud. The watching Dogs and Curs growled at each other. He’d better check that, or they’d be at each other’s throats in a moment . . .

  “You killed him,” Ukiah said as surprise jolted through him. The memory was from the 1930s, the last time Rennie and Degas fought against the Ontongard together.

  This past June, Rennie had called a gathering of the five Pack clans for a desperate battle against Hex. For over a century, the Pack believed that Prime had destroyed the Ontongard mother ship. The truth was that the damaged ship had landed on Mars with the entire crew locked in cryogenic sleep by Prime. Hex had a remote key that would have allowed him to wake the crew—if the ship’s protective shields were lowered. The Ontongard had manipulated the development of human technology for decades to bring about the Mars Rover, and then adapted it for their needs.