Some more of my awesome story. Ugh I love it so much!!
“What?!” I hissed and she grinned holding out the letter from Lennox.
“Someone was busy,” she commented. Oh right no shirt … and my pants were undone.
“I’m not the fucking leader,” I muttered snatching the letter away. Since I’d been the one who wanted to continue hunting even after I was kicked out, Alice and Charlie decide that it was only right that I be put in charge of our rogue group. I was less than pleased and secretly a little thrilled. I didn’t have much control over physical aspects in my life, so it was nice to have control over other things. Like destroying some demons and blowing shit up.
I ripped open the envelope. Is it weird that I have very little shame? Perhaps I just know Charlie too well. I scanned over the short letter and would have jumped if I’d been physically able to without killing myself.
“Coordinates?” Charlie asked reading my expression.
“Fuck yes,” I said and handed her the paper. Similar to how I assume things are at the United Hunters headquarters, at the Admiral group we’d had a ton of tracking equipment we bought on ebay and the online black market, but here we only had a GPS so if Lennox knew of a hunt the Admiral group was going on she sent us the coordinates. Usually in a text, but since this was written out then their group wasn’t moving out until later. Which gave us plenty of time to go in and sweep up.
I grabbed a clean shirt and searched for my bra as Charlie yelled to Alice to get the car packed and ready. I shoved my feet back into my shoes and grabbed my bandana and sunglasses.
Alice was loading guns into the trunk when I rolled out. The weather report was blaring from inside the garage and from the sound of it there was going to be heat, heat, and more heat with no clouds for miles and a wind picking up at night. The desert was always threatened by wind storms, twisters, sand storms, the works. Sometimes demon related but usually Mother Nature had it taken care of.
I got shot gun and clicked the seatbelt before getting my ipod out and searching for today’s demon ass kicking playlist. I always needed to set the mood with the right music. Dylan called me crazy, Noah called it brilliance, and Charlie and Alice called it I could do what I wanted as long as I was breathing at the end of the day.
Coordinates always had me over excited. This also meant it was demon activity that wasn’t recorded in the border patrol news, which was the binder Noah had. People in the desert could make reports and complaints and it was recorded there. It also let us know when buses left and when they were to arrive. But coordinates meant suspicious activity that tracking equipment picked up. Or you know sometimes my friend June, who remained in the Admiral group, could hack the United Hunters database and find us stuff to do. Either way it got my blood pumping. To the right places this time.
“Ready?” Charlie asked as she locked the back door.
“Yep,” Alice answered slamming the trunk shut.
“Wire cutters?” I asked and Alice dropped them in my lap as she took the wheel and Charlie got in the back. You couldn’t get through the gate without a pass, so we made our own way into the desert.
It’d be dusk soon. Hunting in the dark was always dangerous but during the day we ran the risk of being fined for being in the desert without a pass. The flimsy wire fence was to keep citizens out. The demons couldn’t leave the premise of their crack in space and time. We also, we as in us near the desert, had the largest influx of demons also because this is where their gate was. I’m sure there are demons hanging out down in South America or Mexico or Canada, but as I said, most are here. This is also why 97% of the population of earth can forget about the demons, except when they have to actually cross the desert. This is also the safest crossing point. There are buses and planes and trains to bring people from other parts of the world to cross here. They could cross elsewhere, but then they run the risk of being captured, killed, maimed, eaten, etcetera. Since the 90s people have started to just come up here. Why the road is in one of the worst areas I’ll never know.
I clipped the fence and started rolling it back and out of our way. I then took out my modified nail gun, it was turned into a bracket gun by our mechanic friend Riles, and bracketed the clipped fence out of the way. When we were done I’d weld, well take metal mesh, and melt it back into place. I murmured along to my music as I wheeled over to the inside fence made of barbed wire. Heavy work gloves make this child’s play. I waved the car through, bracketed the barbed wire fence, cut the brackets on the wire fence, and rolled the outter fence back into place. If we had to make a fast escape we wouldn’t scratch the paint on the barbed wire.
I clambered back into the car and Alice hit the gas. The GPS voice, Millie, barked orders at us as we ignored ancient roads and faded signs. We were taking the shortest path until Millie announced that we’d arrived. In two minutes flat we were out of the car and armed.
We were at the edge of a town. Broken buildings and worn down houses cowered in the night like hurt beasts. We moved quietly towards the building with warm light seeping out of glassless windows.
“Stay in your wheelchair,” Charlie hissed as I took the lead. I rolled my eyes. “I fucking mean it. It’s a rolling can’t-touch-this chair and you better keep your ass in it.”
“Yeah, yeah alright I will,” I muttered and Alice stepped ahead.
“I’m just busting in there,” she announced and I rolled my eyes again.
“Get in the back of the line happy feet,” Charlie snapped quietly and took her arm pulling her back. She pouted, but complied. We pulled out binoculars.
