The Flight of the Silvers

David eyed him with furrowed bother until he emitted a dry chuckle.

 

“I like you, Zack, but you can be awfully strange sometimes.”

 

“Says the kid who eats like a six-foot rabbit.”

 

“I just hope you’re right about him.”

 

Zack looked to the bathroom door and heaved an airy sigh. “Guess we’ll find out.”

 

Once his long shower ended, Theo wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at his chest. An angry red scar ran across his left pectoral—six inches long, five years old, and as jagged as the mouth of a demon. Theo was well acquainted with its voice by now. It had pestered him all throughout the evening, dousing him in noble reasons to break away from the group. They’d get so much farther without your mouth to feed. They’d be so much less conspicuous without an injured Asian among them. They’d have a chance, Theo. Why must you rob them of their chance?

 

By the time the steam cleared, the matter had been settled. He’d leave them tonight, after Zack and David fell asleep.

 

Ecstatic in victory, the demon took no time to rest. As Theo dried himself off, it broached the delicate subject of severance pay.

 

 

The squad room was a slice of Old London, a dank basement of dripping steam pipes and moldy gray brick. Melissa found it a refreshing contrast to the unrelenting modernism of South California. The whole damn state seemed obsessed with hiding its history.

 

Fourteen law enforcers eyed her cynically from their chairs as she paced in front of the screenboard. Half the men were uniformed officers here at the precinct. The other half were her fellow Deps, all summoned to Ramona in the middle of the night for reasons they had yet to process. Even Cahill seemed skeptical as she activated the display. The flat ghost images of all six Silvers loomed behind her. She pointed to one with her coffee-cup hand.

 

“Her name’s Amanda Given. At least that’s what she told the local pawnbroker at 11:36 this morning, when she sold him a wedding ring.” Melissa motioned to Zack’s picture. “She was accompanied by this man, the driver of the stolen van and quite possibly the leader of the group. Now there are several factors—”

 

“That was fifteen hours ago,” an agent griped. “What makes you think they’re still in town?”

 

“There are several factors that lead me to believe the fugitives are still here in Ramona. We can assume they didn’t steal a vehicle. Only two cars were reported missing today. One was recovered. The other was a two-seater, far too small for this crew. We know they didn’t leave by bus, train, or aership. Their facial maps were entered into the Blackguard database. Had they approached any ticket counter, the civic cameras would have recognized them. Excuse me.”

 

Wincing, she reached up the back of her blouse. Several sleepy eyes lurched awake as she pulled a lacy black bra from her sleeve.

 

“Sorry. I’ve been wearing that thing for twenty hours.”

 

Cahill shook his head at her in dark wonder. With a small grin, she continued.

 

“It seems unlikely that a group this size could hitchhike out of town. I also believe they were too fatigued to walk. Given their state and their fresh influx of money, the likeliest scenario is that they’re resting in one of the twenty-one budget motels that are currently open for business in Ramona.”

 

She distributed a series of clipped packets, each one containing a list of motels, plus a color printout image of every Silver.

 

“Check the numbers on your handouts. I’ve split you into seven pairs, with the task of covering the three circled motels on your list. If the night clerk doesn’t recognize the photos, find out if any double or triple room purchases have been made with cash today. If you get a lead, call me. If you should see any of these fugitives, do not engage them. They don’t look it but they’re dangerous. They already hurt six policemen today and may be responsible for at least two dozen deaths.”

 

Melissa took another sip of coffee, then checked the wall clock: 2:45 A.M.

 

“I can only imagine they’ll be making an early start out of town. That means we have a limited window to take them by surprise. Does anyone have any questions?”

 

No one did. “Good. Let’s move out. And please be cautious.”

 

Despite her call to action, nobody moved. The Deps looked to Cahill, who eyed them sternly. “Did anyone have trouble hearing her?”

 

The men grudgingly proceeded upstairs. Cahill smirked at the bra in her hand. “You sure like to poke the hive, don’t you?”

 

“It was mostly a comfort decision.”

 

“I wasn’t talking about the skimpies, hon. You have any idea what you’re risking here?”

 

“A pay raise, I imagine.”

 

“That and more. It wouldn’t have killed you to wait until these people surfaced again.”

 

“No, sir, but it might have killed someone else.”

 

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