{"id":6000,"date":"2020-10-27T22:10:26","date_gmt":"2020-10-27T14:10:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=6000"},"modified":"2020-10-27T22:10:26","modified_gmt":"2020-10-27T14:10:26","slug":"sheriff-of-the-swamps-chapter-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=6000","title":{"rendered":"Sheriff of the Swamps Chapter 1"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

James Wood heard the car long before he saw it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the quiet of the woods, sound carried a long way. Loose gravel crackled under heavy tires. The engine purred, low and smooth and steady. A twig snapped. One vehicle, moving slowly, navigating the final turn into the farmhouse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not an assault.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or so the driver wanted it to seem.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everybody on Moreno Island knew that you never, ever, visited the Woods without an appointment. No exceptions. Deliverymen, postmen, farmhands, everyone had to set an appointment and call ahead before arrival. Without the call, they would be turned back, no matter who they were. Nobody wanted to argue with six feet and two hundred pounds of rock-hard muscle, muscle earned through daily labor, or the rifle he always wore everywhere he went.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That meant the newcomer was a stranger. Or someone who knew but chose to disregard the rules.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe even someone pretending to be visitor, to draw his attention away from an assault.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wood stood at the edge of a field of yams. No cover, no concealment. The perfect killing ground. Squatting low, he pretended to inspect a bunch of leaves, surreptitiously sweeping his sight left to right, far to near.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woods around him were quiet. Birds sang to each other high in the canopy. Frogs croaked in the distance. An alligator answered with a low growl. He saw no motion, no straight lines, nothing that betrayed an impending invasion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which didn\u2019t mean that there was nothing out there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Make enemies of the New Gods and there would always be a monster hiding under the bed, in the shadows, just out of sight, waiting for you to slip up, lower your guard, look away for a fatal second.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSomething wrong?\u201d Dad asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His father raised the visor of his augmented reality headset, looking at him in the eye. Shorter, darker, three decades older but not a drop weaker, Dad had passed on the best of his genetic legacy to James. He was a civilian though, even after recent events in Babylon, which was why instead of a long gun he wore only a massive revolver on his hip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got visitors,\u201d James replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad frowned and pricked his ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, I hear them now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t have anyone on the schedule today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGoing to say hello to them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James rose to his feet, taking his rifle in both hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd goodbye.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Father chuckled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTry not to scare them too<\/em> much this time, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James strode to the farmhouse. The old instincts kicked in as they always did. His hands drew his weapon close in to his body, low and loose. Through the soles of his rugged boots, he read the microterrain, sensing the subtle dips and rises of the rich black earth, instinctively adjusting his gait for silence and efficiency. The sounds of the farm filtered into his ears: the droning of agriculture bots, the free-range chickens and goats and pigs clucking and bleating and grunting to each other, the crowing of a rooster. His head swiveled around, taking in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Where so many businesses had collapsed in the past year, the Wood family farm had prospered. The Temple Commission had torn open gaping wounds in the body politic of Nova Babylonia, a drastic surgery to excise the worst of the corruption that plagued the land of the gods. Politicians and corporate officers and government officials fell like dominoes, rippling out across the country. Businesses and consultancies folded up by the bushel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But people still needed to eat. And the Wood family offered better prices and fresher food than what the surviving corporations could promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Livestock, tubers, cabbages, carrots, beans, the Woods had something to offer to everyone. The property spanned five hectares of crops, greenhouses, pasture, and it was still slowly growing. In these dark times, the farmer was as important as a king. If not more so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But only if he could keep what he held.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just beyond the electric fence, the car rolled into view. Sleek and black, it rode low to the ground. The sun glared off its spotless hood and grill. A city car, and that meant trouble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James closed his organic eye and zoomed in with the other. His prosthetic was a legacy of an op almost gone bad, the silver lining of an otherwise horrific firefight. It was bleeding-edge tech, mil and law enforcement only. After the Special Tasks Section was disbanded, he hadn\u2019t gotten around to returning it. Nobody had gotten around to ask for it back too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 5X vision, he scrutinized the car. Two puck antennas jutted out from the roof. Bull bars guarded the front bumper. Flashlights peeked out between the front grills, and the side mirrors sported LED strips. The license plate was a three-layer vertical sandwich, a short string of numbers squashed between the words \u2018MI\u2019 and \u2018MUNICIPAL\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

An undercover cop car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James tensed. His previous interactions with the Moreno Island Sheriff\u2019s Department were\u2026 less than cordial. It was a wonder that they had taken so long to visit him, a miracle that they\u2019d only sent one car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or maybe there were other cops in the woods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James scanned once more. The farmhands continued their business. The agricultural bots watched the fields and the livestock. Dad tended to the tubers. The perimeter sensor net remained quiet. Still nothing out of place in the woods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Was there really only one<\/em> car?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The vehicle stopped at the gates. A handsome black woman stepped out. In a black blazer, white shirt, black pants, she was dressed for the city. Not the woods. At least she had the sense to wear flats. Black eyeshields, mil grade, similar to the ones he wore infrequently, completed the look. As she moved, her blazer parted, revealing a shining gold shield on her belt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And a holstered pistol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His grip tightened on his weapon. An MR-77, the civilian reproduction of the M83 he\u2019d carried into battle, customized to his exacting requirements. The one feature it lacked was full auto fire, but he could fire so fast on semi it didn\u2019t matter. And if there were only one threat, he\u2019d only need one shot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood morning!\u201d she shouted. \u201cMr. James Wood?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot available!\u201d he replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A friendly smile lit her face. Her hands stayed well within sight. But she stayed close to the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m Detective Sergeant Janet Clark. I\u2019d like a moment of your time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The name sounded familiar. As his brain rifled through its files, he approached her, his gaze alternating between the woman, the car, and his flanks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you on official business?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not talking to any cops without an attorney present.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUnderstandable. But I\u2019m not here as a cop. I\u2019m here as a sheriff candidate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now he remembered. The Temple Commission had dragged out Sheriff Kane in chains after uncovering ties between him and the New Gods. The Undersheriff stepped up in his stead. With his mouth, Joshua Smith vowed reforms and change; with his hands, he simply sat on them. Not that it mattered: everybody knew that the New Gods were the true rulers of Moreno, of the country, of the world. Smith was as much of an Establishment man as his former superior. He wouldn\u2019t have been appointed Undersheriff otherwise. He was a shoo-in to become the next sheriff.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Until Janet Clark announced her campaign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this tiny island, Clark was the only other candidate for the election. An insider turned outsider, she served in the Gangs and Narcotics Unit, focusing on gangland operations within Saint Lucille, the only city of Moreno. The Moreno media paid her little attention, the Babylon news cared not one whit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t care about the outcome either way. He had grown sick of politics long ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn other words, you\u2019re here as a cop,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan\u2019t deny that,\u201d she admitted. \u201cYou\u2019re a cop, weren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was.\u201d He paused. \u201cFederal, not Moreno.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStill law enforcement in my eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEven after what I\u2019d done the last time I was in the city?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her eyes hardened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey got what was coming to them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James had expected many things. He hadn\u2019t expected the vehemence in her voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back when he was a member of Team Black Watch, he had hauled in a cyborg prisoner. A Superuser from the Singularity Network. As he and team leader Yuri Yamamoto interrogated the suspect, the deputies affiliated with the Guild of the Maker intervened. They attempted to coerce James and Yamamoto into handing over the prisoner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, they had broken out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And beaten down a half-dozen cops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And shot as many deputies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And killed one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Matthews uncrossed his feet, snaked his hand for ankle, turned around to face James\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

James fired.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blood.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

James Wood blinked back the memories. Damn it. He\u2019d thought Matthews was a friend. Was<\/em>. But he\u2019d found religion, and in the end, he\u2019d chosen the Guild over him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou alright?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James grunted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. Why are you here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need your help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd I need you to get in your car and drive home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe were police. Not going to help a sister of the badge?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know you. You didn\u2019t make an appointment. I can\u2019t let you in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cParanoid, aren\u2019t you? But I get it. The New Gods did a number on you and your team.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen you should know why I can\u2019t help you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan\u2019t, or won\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo difference.\u201d He gestured at the car. \u201cGo home. You won\u2019t find any friends here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can pay you well for your time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not a hired gun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve always been a protector.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His eyes narrowed. The words cut deeper than they should. She stood where she was, still nonthreatening, but her eyes bored deep into his soul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho I am isn\u2019t important. What is, is you moving off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPeople are trying to kill me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sentence hung in the air, the ghost of an exploded bomb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe SD can help you with that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m running against Josh Smith. My campaign is focused on cleaning house. They\u2019re not going to lift a finger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou think this is political?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOnly reason they\u2019d try to make a run at me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre the New Gods involved?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. But they stand to benefit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t know if they\u2019re involved.\u201d James considered it for a moment. \u201cThere\u2019s a lot I don\u2019t know about you and your circumstances. What I do<\/em> know is that my family is still in danger. If you know my history with the New Gods, you know why. I\u2019m in no position to help anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m your only chance of removing the New Gods from Moreno Island.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James blinked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Said nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOr would you rather stay cooped up here for the rest of your life?\u201d she continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re going to win the election?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlright, alright,\u201d she said. \u201cI can\u2019t guarantee a win. But I know that if I die, your only hope of freedom from the New Gods dies with me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James looked at her. Truly looked. She was a small woman, barely coming up to his chin, and only because of her thick shock of luscious wavy hair. Yet every inch of her radiated poise and confidence. Spare and bony, she was all muscle and sinew, with just enough fat to highlight her curves. In her eyes he saw steel tempered in fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet\u2019s talk inside,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He swung the gates open. Clark returned to her car, eased through the entrance, and parked by the main door of the farmhouse. James closed and locked the gate the second she was past. He swung around just in time to see Mom step out the main door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe have guests today?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood morning, Mrs. Wood,\u201d Clark said. \u201cJames kindly let me in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom\u2019s eyes widened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know you! Detective Janet Clark, aren\u2019t you? The one running for sheriff?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s about time someone else ran against the New Gods.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWay past time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you here on business?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018Maybe\u2019?\u201d Clark asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to hear you out. Doesn\u2019t mean we\u2019re doing business.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on inside,\u201d Mom urged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James walked Clark to the door, keeping a safe distance behind her. Mom led them to the cozy living room. Clark took the power seat, the sofa strategically positioned against a corner, angled towards the door. The seat James preferred. He settled for the couch across her, backed to the stairs, rifle in between them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWould you like anything to drink?\u201d Mom asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWater, thanks,\u201d Clark said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe too,\u201d James said, keeping his eyes on her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom returned with a two tall glasses of cold water. Clark accepted hers with a smile, taking a large sip. James set his on the table, within easy reach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom disappeared upstairs. James leaned in to Clark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet\u2019s start from the top. Why do you say people are trying to kill you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA month ago, shortly after I announced my candidacy for the elections, I started receiving hate mail and death threats. I\u2019ll spare you the gory details, but the thrust of it was that they wanted me to drop out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSent to your home?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She clenched her fists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. The last straw came when we received the dick glitter bomb.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe what?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSomeone dropped off a package at my home. I live with my parents, my brother, and his family. I was out at the time, and the package was addressed to my brother. Ed opened the package on the porch and bam!<\/em> Faceful of dick glitter. Like confetti, but in the shape of dicks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat was he thinking? It could have been a live bomb.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, well, Ed is a civilian. I tried to protect my folks from the death threats as much as possible, but\u2026 Anyway, now he knows better than to open suspicious packages. I hope.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know who did it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI sent in the letters and the packages to the crime scene unit for investigation. They said they found no fingerprints and no clues.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou believe them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI found nothing on my end. The detectives assigned to the case told me they didn\u2019t turn up anything either.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo you don\u2019t believe them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOne third of the department is part of the Singularity Network. One third worships the Maker. The remainder\u2026 aren\u2019t placed in any important roles.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExcept you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m the highest-ranking secular in the SD.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo your superiors support you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCaptain Carter supports Josh Smith. Smith supports every deputy under him, so long as they support him too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI take it you don\u2019t have many friends in the SD.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOnly the boots. Not the brass.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt sounds tough. But so far I\u2019m only hearing harassment. Not attempted murder.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat was two days ago. Drive-by in downtown Saint Lucille.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSomeone called me on my police line. Said she had important information to give me, information about the New Gods and their involvement in a homicide. Insisted she\u2019d only talk to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI arranged to meet her in public, at a cafe I knew well. I showed up half an hour early. As I walked to the front door, a car drove up to me. I saw the windows wind down and I hit the deck just as the shooter fired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe had a pistol. Blasted a string of shots into the wall, well above head height. As I grabbed my weapon, the crew sped off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James had read about the incident in the news. The media hadn\u2019t released the name of the deputy involved in the shooting. Back then he\u2019d thought it was just another symptom of a country falling apart at the seams. He hadn\u2019t thought the violence would wash up here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas it a message?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. Immediately after the shooting, I received a text on my phone. \u2018We won\u2019t miss next time\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did you do next?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI called it in and gave my statement. Josh Smith assured me that the department will spare no effort in finding the ones responsible. He also placed me on administrative leave.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe can do that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDepartment post-shooting policy, he said. On the bright side, it\u2019s how I\u2019m able to talk to you now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow are you able to run for elections while still serving on the SD?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been closing up my cases, handing them off to others, and tying off loose ends. I was going to take no-pay leave anyway to focus on the campaign. This just stepped up my plans.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve only got a month left before balloting begins.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSomeone really doesn\u2019t want me to run.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAny idea who?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. The investigators don\u2019t have any leads.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou mean they say<\/em> they don\u2019t have any leads.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhoever they are, they are real desperate. They think you have a fighting chance of winning the elections. And they are powerful enough to think that they can be protected from the ramifications of assassination.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI thought so too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat means the New Gods.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo evidence of that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho else wants you out of the way?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy campaign is focused on crime and corruption. That means the major gangs, the old money families that run the big businesses in Moreno, corrupt cops\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut all roads lead to the New Gods.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to bias my investigation here. I work with what the evidence says, not what I want the evidence to say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd right now, you don\u2019t have any evidence pointing to a definitive suspect.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. Which is why I\u2019m here now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you want from me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need a bodyguard.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you need from the bodyguard?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cProtection. I want you to protect me when I\u2019m on the campaign trail, and my family when we\u2019re at home. I can take care of myself, but I need someone to watch my back if\u2026 or when<\/em> something happens.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He kept his tone light, but loaded the two words with heavy implications.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She met his gaze dead-on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No pre-emptive work, then. Which was good, because it kept things nice and legal. Bad, because it left the opposition free to act in the shadows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy me? Why not an executive protection specialist from Babylon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re former STS. The baddest badass in Moreno. You\u2019ve fought gods and demons, and won.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James snorted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou can see where that got me. Exile in a farm in the middle of nowhere. Besides, there are plenty of former STS operators went into executive protection. I could recommend them to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou also know the terrain and the people. They don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI also have a family to look after. If I take this job, I could place them at risk.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe both have families at risk. On the other hand, yours has fences, guns, robots. Mine\u2026 don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey\u2019re unarmed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey\u2019re civilians. Never needed guns their lives. I tried to teach Ed about guns, but he didn\u2019t like them. At least, not enough to carry them around. After taking glitter dicks to the face, Ed has changed his mind about that. But among us, you\u2019ve got the most experience.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf I leave the farm, the New Gods could strike.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey won\u2019t. Moreno is a sideshow to them. They\u2019re focused on the crown jewel. On Babylon. After the Temple Commission swept through here, they\u2019re too busy trying to rebuild their influence. They aren\u2019t likely to seek revenge on a disgraced operator living quietly in the woods.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which, he had to admit, was probably the only reason the Woods were still alive. He was good, yes, but if the New Gods really wanted to, they could drop a company of cyborgs on the farm. Or dig up some eldritch abomination from the depths of the earth and turn it against him. He wouldn\u2019t stand a chance against that. No one could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He came here to protect his family. But, really, if the New Gods attacked there\u2019d be no way they were walking out of it alive. The only question was how many of their foot soldiers he\u2019d take with him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But now that Clark was in the game\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy unit monitors the activities of the New Gods,\u201d she continued. \u201cThe New Gods use the gangs as their proxies, and right now, gangland is pretty quiet. They don\u2019t want to mess up Smith\u2019s chances of election. It\u2019s safe for you to leave. Or at least, safer<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s still a high risk. If they see me out and about, they may decide to make a play here. And if they target my family, they could use them as leverage against us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI understand that. Which is why I\u2019m offering a suitable reward.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSuch as?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPolice protection. So long as you\u2019re working for me, I\u2019ll have my friends run regular patrols around here, and work with you to increase security. If the New Gods try something, we can catch it and respond to it in time. Or at least give your family early warning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFurther, I am prepared to pay you premium rates commensurate with your risk. One hundred dollars an hour, from now until the end of the election.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere\u2019d you get that kind of money from?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCampaign donations. Lots of people want the New Gods out. They don\u2019t want the Husks, the political intrigue, the danger. They want to be left alone to live their lives in peace. They just won\u2019t say that openly to the pollsters.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got all the money I need. And the means to make more money.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s true. But there is one more thing I can offer you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGo on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf I win, you\u2019ll have a friend in the MISD. The things you\u2019ve done here will be\u2026 forgotten.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI thought I\u2019m persona non grata<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs Sheriff, I can make you persona <\/em>ultra grata<\/em>. You did us all a favor, getting rid of the corrupt cops. I can return it. In spades. And in the future, well, let\u2019s just say there are plenty of opportunities within the SD for someone with your skills.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA real politician, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have to be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a tempting offer. But in my world, there\u2019s one thing that trumps money and politics.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTactics.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTactics?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a woman. And I am a big, scary black man. There are places a woman can go that a man can\u2019t. There are times when you don\u2019t want to draw even more attention to yourself than you have to. Not only that, if the threat is as deadly as you say it is, one protector is not going to be enough.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you propose?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to make a call. And then<\/em> we\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But even as he spoke the words, he knew he\u2019d take the job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And she knew it too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Want to see James Wood in his heyday? Check out Babylon Blues on Amazon<\/a>!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

James Wood heard the car long before he saw it. In the quiet of the woods, sound carried a long way. Loose gravel crackled under heavy tires. The engine purred, low and smooth and steady. A twig snapped. One vehicle, moving slowly, navigating the final turn into the farmhouse. Not an assault. Or so the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[68,106,143,168,216,253,277,278,284,289,341],"class_list":["post-6000","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-babylon-red","tag-cyberpunk","tag-free-story","tag-horror","tag-military-science-fiction","tag-pulprev","tag-science-fantasy","tag-science-fiction","tag-sheriff-of-the-swamps","tag-singlit","tag-writing"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6000"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6000"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6000\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6000"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6000"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6000"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}