Bridgers 3_The Voice of Reason Read online

  Bridgers 3: The Voice of Reason

  Stan C. Smith

  Copyright © 2018 by Stan C. Smith

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To those who refuse to

  give up on the ones they love.

  The Voice of Reason

  Fighting to survive is human nature. So that’s what we do. End of story.

  Infinity Fowler

  Contents

  1. The Burrow

  2. Lexington

  3. Water

  4. Armando

  5. Bio-probe

  6. Quandary

  7. Conversation

  8. Weapons

  9. The Herd

  10. Abominations

  11. Wild Land

  12. Shenanigans

  13. Reason

  14. Venomcrook

  15. Restraint

  16. Darkness

  17. Mongrels

  18. Tiers

  19. Manifestation

  20. Conflict

  21. Cipher

  22. Tobias

  23. Practice

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  Review Request

  Author’s Notes

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  There’s More To This Story!

  Also by Stan C. Smith

  1

  The Burrow

  Passerina Fowler bounded up the stairs and onto the porch of the Burrow, carefully avoiding the third step, which had caved in a few weeks ago.

  “What’s up, Passie?” It was Meg Farro. Meg and the Baradad brothers were sitting on the weathered floor of the porch, leaning against the house and passing around a joint.

  Passerina shucked her backpack and sat down beside Meg. “What’s up, you guys?”

  Marvin Baradad sucked on the joint and then offered it to Passerina. She eyed it for a moment and thought, why the hell not? It wasn’t much more than a roach at this point, so she pinched it carefully and took one quick hit before giving it to Meg. She held her breath, leaned her head back against the Burrow’s wall, and felt the smoke burning her throat.

  “Long day?” Marvin asked.

  Passerina shrugged and nodded, still holding her breath.

  Victor, Marvin’s older brother, took the roach from Meg and drew heavily on it, burning his fingers. He dropped it and ground it into the porch with his thumb. He exhaled and said, “You should just quit. I dropped out at your age and look where I am today.”

  He was making a joke, but the amazing smile he flashed threw Passerina off, and her laugh came out as a cough. Damn, he was cute. Victor was the oldest guy living in the Burrow, probably nineteen or twenty, and he was the one who made sure the rent got paid. Each kid had to pay twenty bucks a month, and Victor would threaten to stomp their faces in if they didn’t pay on time. He was one hell of a mean fighter, and most of the kids were afraid of him. But not Passerina. She wasn’t afraid of anyone.

  Passerina got to her feet and grabbed her backpack. “Gotta do a shit-load of homework.”

  Marvin pulled a fresh joint from his shirt pocket. “I got another if you wanna chill with us instead.”

  She glanced at Victor, but his face was expressionless. She shook her head. “Thanks, but too much to do.” She stepped to the screen door and entered the dim light of the Burrow’s big room.

  Once upon a time, the big room must have been a family room or living room, when the Burrow was actually a house for a real family. Now it was a gathering place for parties and sparring. A few ratty couches lined the walls, but Victor didn’t allow anyone to sleep in the big room. Each kid had a mattress-sized spot in one of the five bedrooms. At any given time, about twenty kids were staying at the Burrow, most of them losers or runaways. Passerina figured she was both.

  She heard several kids in the kitchen, but she went straight to the green bedroom. Although she shared the room with two other girls and three guys, she had a cozy corner that included the doorless closet. The girl who used to have this corner had disappeared one night, and no one had seen her since. Passerina had wanted the corner, but so had three other kids, so Victor had made them fight for it. The first two—both girls—had chickened out at the last minute, so Passerina had only needed to kick one ass to get the corner. She had crushed the kid’s nose and bitten off part of his lip before he’d given up.

  She dropped her backpack on her mattress but then noticed that some of her things had been moved. And her blue t-shirt was gone. She’d washed it in the sink yesterday and hung it on a nail to dry. She spun around and scanned the room.

  No t-shirt.

  She found the shirt in the kitchen, being worn by Eddy Chastain. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten into her stuff.

  She stormed up to him and shoved him against the stove. The pan of canned ravioli he’d been heating slid back and splattered the stove’s knobs.

  “What the hell, Passie?”

  “Give me my shirt, Eddy! I was going to wear it to school tomorrow.” The prick hated being called by his real name. He usually introduced himself as Kevlar.

  He half-smiled and shook his head. “Cool it. I didn’t have a clean shirt, and I saw it hanging there.”

  She shoved him again. “Take it off!”

  His smile turned into a scowl. “Screw you, Passie. You’re wasting your time going to school anyway.”

  “Just give her the shirt, man,” said Salvador, one of the six or so other kids standing around in the kitchen.

  Eddy’s scowl deepened. “I said I didn’t have a clean shirt. I’ll take it off when I go to—”

  Passerina hit him in the face. Eddy stumbled back against the stove, burning his hand on the hot coil. “Aw, shit!” He shook his hand wildly.

  “You two—take this into the big room.” It was Victor. He was standing in the kitchen’s doorway.

  “I’m not fighting this psycho bitch,” Eddy said. “If she didn’t want anyone wearing her shirt, she shouldn’t have hung it—”

  Passerina hit him again, this time splitting his lip. She was going to make sure the bastard never got into her stuff again.

  Eddy thrust his arm back, grabbed the pan of ravioli, and hurled the whole thing at her. The pan hit her shoulder and hot goo splattered her face and chest. Before she could react, Eddy was on her. He pushed her against the wall and then landed a punch to her forehead.

  She raised her arms to block his fists, but then she heard Eddy hit the floor. She lowered her arms to look. Victor was leaning over Eddy, holding him down by the throat.

  “Little man,” Victor said, his voice calm. “That’s not how we fight here.” Victor then grabbed Eddy’s hair and dragged him through the doorway into the big room. “Passie!” Victor called over his shoulder. “Get your ass in here!”

  Trembling with fury, Passerina left the kitchen, followed by the other kids.

  Victor released Eddy’s hair. “Get up.”

  Eddy got to his feet, sucking air through his teeth like a mad dog.

  “You two really want to do this?” Victor demanded.

  Passerina nodded. “Damn right.”

  Eddy just nodded, his eyes wider now.

  “House rules, then,” Victor said. He stepped back. “Give them room!”

  The ten or so kids who were now gathered around moved back to the edges of the room.

  Passerina didn’t wait for Eddy. She lunged at him, wildly throwing punches at first and then trying to scratch his face as he went down. S
he got her teeth into his shoulder and bit down.

  He screamed and cussed, but Passerina was too enraged to understand his words at this point. She locked her fingers onto fistfuls of his hair to keep him from pushing her away. She found his ear with her teeth and bit down, trying to rip it from his head.

  His screams got louder, and he stopped pushing with his arms. She felt him move his hands down to his waist, fumbling for his left pocket.

  Passerina released his hair and tried to grab his wrist.

  “Get your hand out of your pocket!” Victor said, although the shouting kids in the room nearly drowned out his voice.

  Eddy’s hand came out. Something cold slid into Passerina’s belly. Eddy’s arm moved, and the cold came again, and then a third time.

  Someone grabbed Eddy and yanked him from beneath her, ripping his ear from her teeth.

  She heard fists hitting flesh. She got to her knees.

  “Oh shit, Passie!” a voice said. It was Meg.

  Passerina looked down. Her abdomen was bleeding in three places. Beside her, a sneakered foot came down hard on Eddy’s hand, cracking bones and causing the knife to skitter across the wood floor.

  Passerina stood up and pushed past several bystanders to the front door. She crossed the porch and descended the stairs, avoiding the collapsed third step.

  Behind her, she heard Eddy cry, “Stop! I’ve had enough!” But still, fists and feet continued pummeling him.

  She stood in the dirt and gazed up at the sky. Cotton-ball clouds were drifting overhead. She remembered a lesson in science class on how clouds were formed. They were nothing more than tiny bits of water, clinging to specks of dust and ice.

  “Damn, Passie, you don’t look so good.” Victor was now standing beside her, breathing hard, the sweat on his face sparkling like glitter. “County hospital’s seven blocks away. Can you walk, or am I carrying you?”

  “I don’t have any money,” she said.

  He took her arm and started guiding her to the sidewalk. “What are you, sixteen? They’ll take you in, trust me. If you have an ID, leave it with me. Give them a fake name and address.”

  It hurt to walk, but she damn well wasn’t going to be carried. “I don’t have any ID.”

  He nodded, still holding her arm. They walked to the corner and crossed Third Avenue.

  “Once they patch you up and let you go—if they let you go—you come back to the Burrow, okay? I got plans for you. I’m taking you to the Scrapyard.”

  She turned to look at him. This caused her to stumble, so she went back to focusing on the sidewalk.

  “It’s my training club,” he said. “Mostly mixed martial arts, but they’ll train you in other styles if you want.”

  “I said I don’t have any money.”

  “Doesn’t matter. The guys at the Scrapyard, they’ve been where you are. They get it. It’ll change your life. You’ve got wicked aggression—like, crazy wicked—but you don’t have any technique. The trainers at the Scrapyard, they’ll make you into a real fighter.”

  They crossed North Third Drive, and then Fourth Avenue. Passerina looked down at her wounds, which were still bleeding heavily. Two t-shirts wrecked in one day. She’d have to steal a few more.

  They crossed Fifth Avenue, and then Sixth, and Seventh.

  “You can see it from here,” Victor said. “I’ve kind of worn out my welcome there, so it’s probably best if I go back. You gonna be okay?”

  Passerina nodded, although she was starting to feel like she might throw up.

  “Remember, come back. And then the Scrapyard. Okay?”

  She nodded again. He flashed his smile and then headed back toward the Burrow.

  Passerina turned and continued putting one foot in front of the other, focusing on three gray, metal words bolted to a stone wall—Maricopa County Hospital.

  2

  Lexington

  13 years later - September 1 - 6:43 AM

  The aroma of bacon and eggs drifted in under the bedroom door. The pillowcase smelled fresh, like it had just been washed. Infinity Fowler opened her eyes and stared through lace window curtains at the eastern sky, which was starting to turn orange. She’d been awake for at least an hour, going over old memories. Why did she keep going back to them? Maybe because she knew the end was getting closer every day.

  She rolled over and gazed at the back of Desmond’s head, only inches away. His scalp bristled with five days of growth, but the stubble was surprisingly smooth to the touch. He’d had a ponytail when she’d first met him. That had been only a month ago, just before his first bridging excursion. So much had changed since then.

  She sat up and gazed at the quilt covering them. A vine made from pieces of green fabric stretched from one end of the quilt to the other. Infinity had never slept in a bed with a quilt on it. Nor had she ever actually slept in a bed with a man in it. She had never trusted any guy enough to let herself become that vulnerable. She had enjoyed sleeping with Desmond, but she doubted she’d have the opportunity again.

  She slipped out of the bed and pulled on her t-shirt, panties, and shorts. Barefoot, she opened the door, snuck out, and padded down the hallway. Lenny and Xavier were sleeping on air mattresses in the living room, so she bypassed that room and went straight to the kitchen.

  Roslyn Weaver was placing plates and forks on the granite-topped island as discreetly as possible. She glanced up at Infinity and smiled. “You must be a morning person, too.”

  Infinity shrugged. “I’ve learned to sleep in brief bursts.” She nodded at the sizzling pans on the stove. “That smells amazing.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything besides the food at SafeTrek’s cafeteria. And with the world going to hell, the quality of that food had taken a turn for the worse.

  “Help yourself to coffee,” Roslyn said, pointing to a drip coffeemaker on the counter.

  “Maybe just some water?”

  Roslyn opened a cabinet, plucked out a glass that resembled the bottom half of an old-fashioned Coke bottle, and handed it to Infinity. “There’s ice in the freezer.”

  Infinity went straight to the sink, filled the glass, and took a long drink, washing away her morning mouth. Leaning against the counter, she watched Roslyn push a heap of eggs around in a pan with a plastic spatula. The woman looked to be in her mid to late fifties. She had long hair the same sandy color as Desmond’s but with gray streaks, tied loosely behind her head. But it was her eyes that made it obvious she was Desmond’s mother. Her eyes had that same alert, silently-aware-of-everything look, as well as a glint of a smile, even when there was little or nothing worth smiling about.

  “I want to thank you,” Roslyn said without looking over at Infinity. “I understand how important it is—what you and Desmond are doing. With everything that’s going on right now, I didn’t expect he’d be able to come here. And the fact that you came with him. And Lenny and Xavier. Well, that means so much to me.”

  Infinity drained the last of the water. “It’s only a seven-hour drive. Any farther and we probably wouldn’t have gotten the OK.”

  Flying hadn’t been an option. Some airports had already been destroyed in storms or earthquakes, and most flights were now reserved for transporting well-connected people or for getting selected refugees to the two bridging facilities still functioning in North America.

  “Seeing Desmond one last time means more to me than I can express,” Roslyn said.

  Infinity filled her glass again. “You should know Desmond has worked his ass off trying to get you a spot in one of the colonies. It’s just… well, it’s not as easy as it sounds. I’m sorry.”

  Roslyn glanced at Infinity and smiled with a strength Infinity admired. “I understand.” She pushed the eggs around one more time and then turned the stove off. “Have you been able to say goodbye to your own family?”

  “Don’t really have family.”

  Roslyn frowned, but then she nodded slowly. “Desmond doesn’t tell me everything, but I can s
ee that you’re more to him than a bridging partner. I want you to know….” She hesitated. “I’m pleased he has someone to be with during this time.”

  Infinity let out a soft laugh. “I bet I’m not the kind of girl you expected him to bring home.”

  She didn’t smile at this. “If he’s happy, I’m happy. If he cares for you, I care for you.”

  Infinity studied the woman’s eyes. Roslyn was sincere. What would it feel like to be loved by a parent in this way?

  “He told me your real name is Passerina. I think I like that better than Infinity.”

  “He told you that?”

  “But I’ll call you Infinity if you prefer,” Roslyn quickly added, seeming to recognize Infinity’s surprise.

  Infinity just shrugged.

  “Can you tell me something, Infinity? I know it’s prying, but with the world collapsing, I’ll probably never get another chance.”

  Infinity shrugged again.

  “I understand you and Desmond will be part of one of the last refugee colonies. When that happens, do you imagine the two of you staying together? It would comfort me to know he will have a family.”

  Infinity stared at her. “Well, I don’t—”

  “Great gods of bacon, please tell me that food is for us!” Lenny stood in the doorway to the kitchen, yawning and stretching, wearing only boxer shorts.

  Roslyn raised her brows at Infinity before turning to Lenny. “Well, it’s the least I could do.”

  Lenny swung around to face the living room. “Des! Xavier!” his voice boomed. “Get up. Breakfast!”