Omega Series: Omega Part 6

The glow of light pollution hovering over DC brightened the horizon. We were getting closer to where I was born, closer to Herakles' location. "If someone was taken prisoner, how do you find them?"

"Depends on who has them. You talking a criminal or someone grabbed by the secret police?"

"I don't really know."

"If you know someone who got grabbed by the secret police, there's no finding them," he said.

"There has to be a way."

Niko chuckled. "Look at you. All wide-eyed and innocent."

"Stop it! I am so tired of people treating me like I'm an idiot!"

"You are an idiot if you think SISA will give up anyone without a good reason," he replied. "They're run by a man who doesn't know the meaning of boundaries and who answers only to the G.o.ds' representative on Earth. The laws s.h.i.+ft around what he does, and no one is going to mess with him or his people so long as they're under the protection of the Supreme Priest who advises the world leaders, among others, as to what the G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses expect of their elite, sleazy, a.s.s-kissing politician underlings."

I listened. The priests had taught me about the Supreme Priest and his connection to other high level politicians. He was one of the most powerful men in the world, according to the priests, who hadn't liked him one bit because he and the Supreme Magistrate stood between the people and free will. The Supreme Magistrate controlled the military and was responsible for securing the borders as well as enforcing international policy and quelling civil unrest. The Supreme Priest had its own domestic security arm and was more feared than the military.

The security force managing the police state had many names. Secret Police. Divine Police. And other slang names Herakles had told me that offended the priests when I repeated them. Their official t.i.tle, though, was SISA the Sacred Independent Security Apparatus of Our Heavenly Fathers and Mothers, whose members were colloquially known as Sacs, according to Herakles, or Sisans according to the priests.

They were said to be charged by the G.o.ds with managing internal affairs of the human race related to matters of law, morality and religion. They answered to no nation state but to the Supreme Priest. I didn't have any idea who ran the SISA. He wasn't of interest to the priests, or I'd have been taught his name.

The world was sounding more dangerous by the minute, and I didn't like it. The priests' claim that the SISA would torture me if they found me was sounding more likely given the grim words of Niko.

But there had to be a way to find Herakles. I couldn't think of him as being completely lost or worse, at the hands of someone Niko said worked outside the laws. The real world outside the forest, however, was completely new to me.

Red signs warning of an enforced curfew and mandatory checkpoint ahead began to appear along the highway. Two miles from the checkpoint, Niko pulled off the highway onto an exit leading into a quiet town near the forest.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"You have a biotag?"

"I'm not sure what that is."

"Then we aren't going through a checkpoint where we can get thrown in jail for not having one, now are we?"

I rolled my eyes. He was moody at best tonight, probably tired like I was.

He drove through quiet neighborhoods before pulling into a long driveway leading to a sagging doublewide trailer surrounded by a fence topped by barbed wire. Huge dogs barked at our approach, and a man with a large caliber rifle sauntered out of an outhouse-sized guard shack beside the road.

Niko stopped at the rolling gate, and I looked from a scene out of a horror movie back to him.

"Really?" I asked.

"Shut up. These people don't like strangers or fugitives and you're both."

I sank into silence.

He rolled down his window and shook the hand of the man outside. "Hey, Mike. Need some work done."

"You got money this time?" the man named Mike asked and leaned down, peering at me.

"Yep. Quite a bit."

"Who's this?"

"No one. New girl toy."

"They getting' prettier and younger." Mike seemed to find that funny and laughed. He stood. "I'll tell Mama you're here."

"Thanks, Mike." Niko left his window down and waited for the gate to roll open before he began driving again.

"Your mother lives here?" I asked.

"No." He snorted. "Mama is the head of the criminal underground. No one knows her real name. They have to tell her anytime anyone enters her compounds. If she doesn't like you, she'll order you killed on the spot," he answered. "Stay close and keep quiet. We'll get you a biotag and be on our way."

He pulled around back, an area populated by more men with guns drinking beer kept cold in a kiddie pool filled with ice. I looked at him skeptically.

"Don't judge these people or me," he grumbled. "Your d.a.m.n priests died before paying me what they owed. If you're worth half what I think you are, you're the one on the most wanted posters so don't tempt me. This is coming out of my pocket, and those rednecks out there might just save your life."

I said nothing. I was too tired for my temper to flare.

"Come on." He climbed out of the car.

I exited more slowly, not at all convinced I wanted to leave the car with the rough men in the backyard. I leaned into the back to grab my knife from my pack and placed it at the small of my back, just in case, then trailed Niko.

He was weaving through the thugs and criminals, greeting those he knew and smiling like he belonged. Which he probably did. I eyed everyone I pa.s.sed, my nose wrinkling at the stench of beer, marijuana, gun oil and body odor. These were not the kind of people Herakles or the priests would want me around. Most of them were too drunk or wasted to pay attention to us, and others jostled into me or spilled beer on me without apologizing.

I went with Niko into the house and almost gagged at the cigarette smoke fogging up the air. I sneezed then coughed.

"Knock it off," Niko said and grabbed a fistful of my s.h.i.+rt, hauling me through a living room and down a narrow hallway. He released me outside a door and turned to face me. "Don't talk to anyone. Don't make eye contact. Don't leave this spot. Got it?"

I grimaced, not at all happy at breathing air that felt like it was choking me.

"Hey. You got it?" He pushed one shoulder against the wall.

He wore an expression that warned me we weren't in a place he considered friendly. His muscular frame was tense once more, and an icky feeling slid through me. I knew nothing of this man, and Herakles would say that no one with a shred of honor would go merc.

What if he was here to sell me out?

"Yeah. I got it," I said and tugged free. "Just be quick."

Niko knocked on the door beside us and opened it without waiting for someone to answer. He walked in and grinned widely at whoever was inside.

The door closed behind him. I lingered for all of ten seconds before deciding I really didn't want to be around criminals and had no reason to trust a man who said he was going to sell me if the priests didn't pay him.

Which he claimed they hadn't.

The barrage on my senses here made my skin crawl. I returned the way we had come and stepped out onto the back porch, waving away the last of the smoke. The stench here was muted compared to the inside of the trailer. I gazed around briefly before deciding I'd rather take my chances alone than stay here.

I wove back through the armed drunks and druggies towards the car and paused at the end of the sidewalk before the driveway.

A figure in a hood and cloak stood leaning against the driver's side of the car. He didn't seem to be armed, and he made no move towards me. Unable to make out facial features or anything about the person, I hesitated to confront someone in this place where everyone was armed. But I did move a little closer and peered at him.

"That's, um, our car," I said awkwardly.

No response. No movement. I felt him watching me.

"Hey! What'd I tell you!" Niko belted from the direction of the house.

"Great." I rolled my eyes and turned. "I couldn't breathe in there!"

"Get your a.s.s back here."

"Are you gonna let this guy steal your car?" I pointed over my shoulder and then turned.

The hooded figure was gone.

"The smoke is getting to you. Hurry up so we can leave." The screen door slammed closed behind Niko.

I walked around the car and searched the night visually for the figure before finally doing what Herakles told me no one ever does. I looked up.

The hooded figure had scaled the tree behind the gravel parking area and was clinging to it.

"Just, uh, don't steal our car," I said and then turned away to obey Niko before he yelled at me again. "I mean, the car. It's already been stolen once tonight."

This time I covered my nose and mouth with my t-s.h.i.+rt when I entered the disgusting lair of Niko's criminal friends. He waited for me in the hallway.

"Knock it off, Lisa," he grumbled and yanked my s.h.i.+rt off my nose.

"This place is disgusting," I complained.

Niko got into my s.p.a.ce until I took a step back. "You may not like these people, but they're going to help us. So stop acting like a child and pretend to be grateful they aren't asking questions," he snapped quietly enough for only me to hear.

I felt bad after that. He was right. I didn't want to be here, but if they could help me get into DC where I could find Herakles ... "Sorry," I murmured.

"Good. Now go." He pushed me towards the door cracked halfway open.

I entered with some trepidation, not certain what I'd find. It resembled what I imagined a criminal's hangout looked like, only with more guns and beer. The guy working at a makes.h.i.+ft desk topped with bundles of money and small packages of drugs was close to my age. He waved me over. Several more men were in another corner, probably guards by their beefy statures. Two women were sorting pills on another table.

I sat before the kid at the table.

"How do you not have a biotag?" he asked, his direct gaze showing no sign of intoxication despite the beer bottles lining one side of his desk.

"Stop it, Marty," Niko replied.

"It's easier to reprogram an existing tag than insert a new one," Marty said in irritation.

"Yep. I know. New one is twice as expensive, too." Niko nudged me.

I said nothing. Maybe I should've been grateful, but I wasn't feeling it. The hairs on the back of my neck were on end, and my instincts were restless.

Marty s.n.a.t.c.hed my wrist and began waving a wand-like device lined with lights over one forearm then the other. "No tag," he said. "You know where I have to go to get these?" he asked me, clearly blaming me for whatever criminal act he had to perform.

"No," I replied.

"Corpse. I have to dig them out of dead people."

I pulled my hand back, grossed out.

"Niko, keep her still."

Niko gripped my wrist and pinned it to the table with strength I wasn't able to shake. I watched Marty lift a second device resembling a handgun and read something on the small screen on one side of it.

"Your name is now ... Holly. Holly Rodriguez, and you're supposed to be Mexican." Marty eyed me critically. "You know Spanish? Because this says it's your only language."

"Who cares," Niko replied. "There are white Mexicans somewhere. Shoot her up. We're in a rush."

Marty positioned the gun in the center, underside of my forearm and pulled the trigger.

"Ow," I muttered at the sharp sting.

"Congrats. You now have a biotag," Marty said and lowered the gun.

I raised my forearm. A drop of blood hovered over a dark, square microchip planted just beneath the surface of my skin. The idea it had been in some other woman's body, and she was dead, weirded me out.

"You want me to cut off that rope?" Marty asked, tapping the red cord around my wrist.

"Nope. Just the biotag," Niko replied. He pulled a wad of cash out of a cargo pocket and plunked it down on the desk. "As agreed."

Marty counted it then added it to one of the stacks on his desk. "Pleasure, as always. Good luck, Holly."

I stood and moved towards the door, holding my forearm. The pain was gone, but I was still disgusted by the biotag. I turned to wait for Niko and saw him slide money from one of Marty's stacks into his pockets. He had distracted Marty by showing him a knife.

I left, not wanting to be around if the thugs in the corner caught on and shot Niko. Returning to the car, I peered again into the tree branches without seeing the figure I had spotted earlier. I didn't really believe in magical creatures the way the priests and others did. Herakles was very pragmatic, not at all into the supernatural outside of the G.o.ds, and I had adopted his realistic view of our world. Sprites and monsters didn't exist, even if the myths claimed otherwise.

Except ... the creature from the lake. I wasn't afraid of whatever it had been by our car, not like I had been of the grotesque. Now that was worth worrying about. But a man in a hood hanging out in such a place? No comparison.

"Come on, Holly." Niko strode by me to the car and opened the driver's side door, sliding into it.

Eager to be out of here, I hurried around to the pa.s.senger side. "Do they know you stole their money?"

"Quiet, kid." He turned the car around and headed back down the driveway.

The gate rolled open, and Mike-the-guard waved us through.

Ten minutes later, we were driving down the highway toward DC again. Traffic slowed at the checkpoint, and Niko released a sigh as we were waved through rather than stopped by men dressed all in black wearing masks and carrying weapons.

"That's it?" I asked.