Spy High Read online

  After hiking for fifteen minutes, I intersected the river. I hadn’t realized it looped so close to the road. Following its bank would be easy…

  I hesitated, considering. Nope, too dangerous. The rush of its water would conceal the sounds of anyone sneaking up on me. Or anything.

  I glanced involuntarily over my shoulder, but the forest was devoid of any visible life except a squirrel cussing me out from the safety of a nearby tree.

  “Easy for you to say, you furry little shit,” I muttered, and angled away from the river until its sound faded to a whisper behind me.

  After another ten minutes of walking, I still couldn’t bring myself to talk on the phone. What if I’d been followed? I had been vigilant, but it wouldn’t take much woodcraft for someone to remain concealed in this dense undergrowth. Orion could be only a stone’s throw away, easily able to hear my voice in the silence of the forest.

  I blew out a breath and sank down to sit on a fallen log. Moss squished and icy wetness soaked my ass. I sprang up and twisted to survey the dark stain spreading on my faded denim.

  “Sure, fine,” I muttered. “So now I look like I peed my pants. Perfect.”

  Well, I wasn’t going to get any wetter. I blew out a breath of resignation and resumed my soggy seat.

  Unslinging my backpack, I cast another glance around me. No threats appeared, so I plugged a phone into my laptop and fired up Stemp’s communication system.

  As usual, he was right on top of it. The cursor zipped across the screen. “Report.”

  I typed, “Sorry I can’t call in. Someone might be listening. Orion is carrying nylon hand restraints. He tried to hide them and I pretended I didn’t see them, but I’ll need more equipment. Has the courier gone yet?”

  “No. What do you need?”

  “A trank gun, the silent kind. Some hand restraints. And do you have any locator/transmitter devices? I’d like to plant one on Orion so I can keep tabs on him.”

  His reply came back instantly. “What range do you need?”

  Calculating, I stared up at the slivers of putty-coloured sky visible through the forest canopy before typing, “Probably no more than a mile. How big is the transmitter?”

  “Only a few millimetres in diameter. It’s self-adhesive, so you can stick it onto something he carries with him.”

  “Great. I’ll look for the package at the depot tomorrow.”

  “No. Stand by.”

  I frowned at the blinking cursor. No? Dammit, I needed that stuff now. Hell, yesterday would have been nice.

  After a short wait, the cursor moved again. “I can’t send classified technology via common carrier. A courier agent will bring it. I can have someone in Port Renfrew by four o’clock this afternoon. Where do you want the dead drop?”

  I blinked at the screen. Holy shit, he wasn’t messing around. As far as I knew my ‘mission’ out here was completely unofficial, and I’d been surprised when he had provided me with secured phones in the first place. Now I was getting classified technology via courier agent? If Stemp was using Department resources for personal reasons, it was a risky move for him.

  Well, whatever. He was covering my ass and I appreciated it.

  I returned my fingers to the keyboard. “I’ll bring the commune’s station wagon. It’s a rusted-out brown 1978 Ford wagon with fake wood panelling. I’ll park at the internet café and leave the rear door unlocked so the courier can drop the package while I’m inside the café.”

  “Confirmed.” The cursor blinked briefly before he added, “If you believe there is any danger to my parents, you are authorized to use deadly force if necessary.”

  Gulp.

  My shaking fingers typed ‘Acknowledged’ and the text window vanished, leaving me staring at the blank screen as though it might reach out and bite me.

  I had no doubt that Stemp would stand behind that command even if he didn’t have the authority to issue it. If anything happened and I actually had to shoot somebody, he would take the fall, not me.

  Several months ago, I had wondered exactly how far he’d go to protect his family. Now I knew.

  I shivered and repacked my laptop in the backpack. Suddenly I was very glad Stemp considered me an ally.

  My trip back to the commune was uneventful and considerably more pleasant in broad daylight. As I drew closer, I scanned the bluff near Skidmark’s empire and finally spotted the bench. Nobody was sitting on it, and I relaxed fractionally even though I knew there were probably more observation points near it where a person could stand completely concealed.

  Speaking of which…

  My steps slowed in thought.

  Time to pay a visit to Skidmark.

  But first I had to make sure Moonbeam and Karma were all right. Stemp would kill me if something happened to them while I was messing around in the forest.

  I turned my steps toward the encampment, wondering whether that was only a figure of speech. He would never lose control and kill me in a fit of rage, but I already knew he wouldn’t hesitate to dispassionately execute anyone who posed a threat to his family. And I would definitely be a threat if he decided he couldn’t trust me.

  I picked up the pace.

  When I strode back through the gates I accosted the first person I saw, a short grey-haired woman with a face like tanned leather. I couldn’t remember whether she was called Primrose or Meadowlark, so I settled for a generic ‘Good morning’ before asking after Moonbeam’s and Karma’s whereabouts.

  She shook her head regretfully. “Sorry, sweetie, I didn’t set eyes on them at the Calling. I don’t know where they’d be at. Might be they’re in their tent or having a snack in the kitchen.”

  I hurried on, asking whomever I met and receiving similar replies. At Moonbeam and Karma’s tent I scratched at the flap without getting a response, and turned toward the main building with my heart thumping a little faster.

  The commune sprawled across at least eighty acres. They could be anywhere. It didn’t necessarily bode ill that nobody had seen them, but after practically shadowing me for the past few days Orion was nowhere to be found either.

  Dammit, I didn’t like that combination one bit.

  Chapter 12

  A rapid search of the main building and kitchen did nothing but make my stomach growl and raise my anxiety level. No sign of Moonbeam, Karma, or Orion.

  Turning away from the building, I pretended it was only hunger causing the hollow shaky feeling in the pit of my stomach. Shit, maybe I should have been following Orion instead of rushing off to report to Stemp.

  What should I do now? How long should I search fruitlessly before sounding the alarm, and if I did need to sound an alarm, how could I do it in a way that wouldn’t blow my cover with the other commune members?

  I turned resolutely in the direction of the garage. One last possibility before I allowed myself to panic…

  I drew a sudden breath of relief tempered with nervousness as I rounded a bend in the path and spotted Orion, Karma, and Moonbeam coming toward me. Thank God. I’d feel a lot better if Orion wasn’t with them, but I’d take what I could get.

  “Did you have a nice walk, dear?” Moonbeam inquired as they drew abreast. She eyed my backpack and survival knife. “Merciful Spirit, you look as though you’re going to hike for a week.”

  “I did have a nice walk, thanks.” I avoided looking at Orion. “And the backpack is only because I’m carrying my laptop with me. I thought I’d head into town and get some time at the internet café.”

  “Oh, I don’t know if you’ll be able to.” Moonbeam’s brow furrowed. “I think the truck has quit again, and the car hasn’t been running for a couple of weeks now.”

  “But I just fixed the truck yesterday,” I argued. “It was working fine at three o’clock.”

  “Oh, well, maybe I’m wrong,” she said. “I don’t know a thing about cars. Don’t forget to write your departure time on the board in case anyone else wants to ride with you.” She gave me her beatific smile.
“We mustn’t squander our gasoline or pollute the planet any more than necessary.”

  I nodded and was beginning to edge past when she laid a hand on my arm. “Actually, dear, I’m glad we ran into you. I was hoping we could have a talk.”

  “Come on, Orion, let’s get some breakfast,” Karma said in a slightly heartier voice than usual. He shot a significant look at Orion and the two of them headed down the path toward the main building.

  I braced myself.

  Moonbeam’s china-blue gaze looked through to my soul and I fought the urge to confess every sin I’d ever committed. Damn, no wonder Stemp had such rigid self-control. If he’d learned to withstand that look as a child, even the most insistent interrogator wouldn’t be able to crack him.

  “You told Orion Moonjava a little fib this morning,” she said at last. Her tone wasn’t accusing, but shame heated my cheeks nonetheless.

  “Um, yeah. I, um…” I let out a sigh, my shoulders slumping. “Yeah.”

  “Why, dear?” She gave me a searching look. “If you were trying to deter him sexually, it would have been better to simply be honest. ‘Thanks but no thanks’ is a much more respectful way to communicate your feelings, and in any case, having your period isn’t a deterrent to a partner who-”

  “No!” I barely resisted the urge to clamp my hands over my ears before she could enlighten me further. “No, it wasn’t that, I, um…” Backed into a corner, I scrambled for an explanation. Heat rose in my face until I was sure my eyebrows were beginning to smoulder.

  “Just be honest, dear,” Moonbeam chided gently. “Your poor aura is almost completely subsumed by that ugly grayness.”

  “I was avoiding the Calling!” The words burst out before I could stop them. “I’m sorry, but I don’t… believe…” The words stuck in my throat as I looked into those soft blue eyes. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “I don’t believe in the Earth Spirit the way you do, and the Callings are, um…” I stopped myself from saying ‘a complete waste of time’.

  “…not really meaningful to me,” I finished instead.

  “Oh.” The single word was infused with such sadness that guilt twisted my heart.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

  “There’s no need to apologize for your beliefs, Storm Cloud Dancer,” she said, but disappointment vibrated in her words. Her gaze looked through me again, and she reached up to lay a gentle palm against my cheek. “You’re still not being completely honest,” she said. “And I see fear in your aura that wasn’t there before. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did Orion Moonjava frighten you in some way?”

  Goddamn it. I had enough trouble keeping a poker face without any creepy aura-reading.

  “No, of course not,” I said, struggling to keep my aura under control, however the hell one might do that.

  “Oh, Storm Cloud Dancer, don’t be afraid.” Moonbeam pulled me into her arms, rocking me and stroking my hair as if comforting a small child. “You’re safe here. No one will harm you. Whatever evil touched you before, it can’t reach you within our lands.” She took my hand to touch the wooden beads of my bracelet with reverence. “Remember, dear, as long as you wear this, you’re under the protection of the Earth Spirit whether you believe in it or not.”

  The sweetness of her concern touched my heart and I hugged her in return, her fine bones birdlike in my arms.

  If Orion harmed her, I would kill him.

  The matter-of-factness of that knowledge sent a shiver down my spine, and I manufactured a smile and put it on before releasing Moonbeam from the hug.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll see you later. And…” I touched her shoulder lightly, trying to find a way to warn her without blowing my cover. “… stay close to Karma, okay? You’re hardly more than a mouthful for that cougar.”

  She chuckled. “You worry too much, dear. None of the Earth Spirit’s creatures would ever harm me.”

  Successfully resisting the urge to tear my hair out, I smiled, nodded, and strode on down the path.

  How the hell could I keep them safe when they trusted everybody? Even if I warned them, they wouldn’t take me seriously. They had their wooden bracelets and their Earth Spirit to protect them.

  I groaned and walked faster, welcoming the burn in my leg muscles while I powered up the hill to the garage. Next stop, Skidmark’s lookout.

  A few minutes later I sank down on the bench and stretched my legs out as though resting. Scrutinizing the view below me, I panned slowly from one side to the other, trying to memorize every detail.

  Across the river, tiny figures marched in formation. Little glints from the marchers caught my eye and I sincerely hoped they were musical instruments for a marching band.

  I snorted cynicism. Yeah, right.

  Ratboy’s army-style boots and misogynistic attitude likely indicated some wacko paramilitary group. They were probably over there marching with bayonets, pretending to be real men while true heroes like Kane and Hellhound quietly put their lives on the line without ever expecting thanks or recognition.

  Straining my eyes, I squinted through the misty air but I couldn’t see any structures other than a large tent in a clearing near their marching field. There had to be sleeping tents and latrines, but I couldn’t spot them under the trees. Another long slash in the forest looked like some sort of target range. From my own target-shooting days, I recognized the foot-worn trails in the grass, widening around small structures that were probably backstops. I had never heard gunfire coming from over there, though, and I couldn’t imagine Moonbeam and Karma willingly renting their land to that kind of group.

  I hissed air out between my teeth. Maybe I was just too paranoid. That layout could be anything.

  Shit, I should have asked Stemp to send binoculars. Too late now. The courier would already be getting on a plane.

  Knotting my fists in my hair, I scrubbed my knuckles against my scalp in an attempt to rub away a tension headache that was starting too early in the day.

  On our side of the river, small figures meandered along the commune’s network of paths between the main building, garden, and encampment area. Tracing the pale lines of gravel, I identified Moonbeam and Karma’s tent and rubbed a fist over the frown lines in my forehead.

  I hadn’t realized before how isolated they were. Down at the end of a twisting trail, they were nearly a quarter-mile away from the rest of the encampment. After living here most of their lives they probably valued their privacy, but that would also make them easy marks for an attack. Dammit.

  Orion’s and my tents were on the end of another long branch of gravel, easily identified by the large pond a hundred yards or so behind us. My forehead crunched into a frown despite the pressure of my hand.

  When I had first arrived I’d been abjectly grateful for the distance and privacy until Orion’s tent had been erected a couple of weeks later, but by then I’d been through the worst of the screaming nightmares. I hadn’t spent much time in the rest of the encampment, and now I realized all the other tents were clustered together in a friendly village-type layout. Only ours were separate. And the gravel on our path shone brightly compared to the half-overgrown trails that made up the rest of the commune.

  So I had been deliberately segregated. Gratitude warmed my heart. Stemp had said his parents understood the difficulties of recovering from traumatic stress, and that was obviously true. They had gone to considerable effort to make a private haven for me and offer comfort with no strings attached.

  Guilt returned full-force. Okay, I’d get my ass to the Spirit Callings from now on and smile while I did it. It was the least I could do.

  I sighed and returned to my scrutiny. To my right, the big field where we met for the Callings lay a few hundred yards off the road with an entrance at each end. I still didn’t understand why we couldn’t just march down the road to get to it instead of hiking twice as far along the winding forest trails, but I smothered that thought. Be respectful, dammit.

  I spent t
he next several minutes memorizing the visible parts of the road and surrounding forest. Then I stood, stretched for the benefit of any hidden observers, and stepped into the trees behind the bench.

  Scouting quietly through the forest, I identified several other viewpoints along the escarpment. One offered a wider view of the renters’ land while another gave me a better look at the road, but none were as panoramic as the view from the bench.

  Good to know.

  I turned my feet toward Skidmark’s garage at last, my stomach growling its displeasure. A glance at my watch showed it was nearing eleven o’clock, and a sudden glorious vision of a cheeseburger and fries flooded my mind.

  If I went to town early I could hit the burger joint for a gut bomb instead of eating the mostly-vegetarian fare from the commune’s kitchen. Drool nearly overflowed my mouth at the thought. After months of healthy eating, my grease and salt levels were critically low.

  And if I went right now, I could have a beer, too. It would be okay because I’d be stone-cold sober by the time I had to drive back four hours later. My stomach emitted a whimper of eagerness.

  And a milkshake for dessert. I hadn’t had ice cream in four months…

  I abandoned the path to crash directly through the undergrowth. Sugar, salt, fat, and booze: the four basic food groups. Ohmigod. Taste-bud orgasm, here I come.

  When I panted into Skidmark’s clearing shedding broken twigs and fern fragments, both vehicles sat in their usual places. The garage doors were closed and there was no sign of Skidmark.

  Hurrying over to the station wagon, I tried the door and let out a small hum of satisfaction when it opened to reveal the keys in the ignition. I slid behind the wheel and twisted the key.

  The starter turned over but the engine didn’t catch.

  Damn.

  I popped the hood and strode around front to study the engine. Hoping for another simple fix, I checked the ignition wire, but it was secure on the distributor cap.

  Fine, whatever. I could take the truck instead. Once I was in town I could contact Stemp and have him communicate the change to the courier.