Outfoxed (The Fox Witch #1) - R.J. Blain Page 0,16
shy if I were to ditch and run.”
Losing twenty hurt, but if she could get out, if I could save somebody, it was worth it. I dug out my wallet and counted out the bills and offered them to her. “Get out for both of us, Gertrude. I think the forecast is right. Catch the next train out between the storms, and make sure you stay in a cellar until you can get out.”
“We don’t have a cellar.”
I cursed. “I know an empty cellar. It’s secure, you’ll get muddy getting into it, but it’s safe. You can raid the supplies I have down there until you can get out. But if you want to go, go.”
“I’ll cash out after your shift tonight. Thanks, Jade. I never thought you were the type. I was wrong about you.”
The storms tended to bring out the worst or the best in people, but I liked my lifestyle.
Gertrude just wanted to go home.
“No, you weren’t. I don’t know if you’ll get a chance to get out this season if the storms are only expected to get worse. Be careful. Catch that train and keep an eye on the sky.” I gave her directions to my good cellar in the outskirts, warned her to wait for half an hour after the last of the rumbles happened to keep from being caught in the tail end of the blow, and left.
Sticking around wouldn’t help either of us. Our boss might even toss me to the curb once he found out I was the reason Gertrude was cutting and heading to the East.
I was thinking about cutting, too, although for completely different reasons.
I’d have to play it by ear and see how eager the bounty hunters were to collect. I figured I’d have a week at most before I’d be looking for somewhere else to go, too. If all went well, moving to a new flop would buy me time, especially if I took a few risks and transformed to get around.
My secrets might be the death of me, but they might become my salvation.
No matter what, I wouldn’t give up without a fight.
With a few hours before the predicted start of the storm, I could notify my old landlord I wouldn’t be staying at the flop anymore and knock on doors of prospective landlords. I expected it would take an hour to find a new place away from my old stomping grounds.
It took half an hour to reach my old landlord’s place and leave a message with his young daughter that I wouldn’t be staying at the flop after my rent ran out in a week. In reality, I’d abandon the place at first opportunity, which would involve sneaking around in the middle of the night to fetch my property without someone spotting me.
I rarely shifted more than twice in a day, but I’d have to test my limits to evade capture. Exhaustion would be a way of life for a few days, but I could handle it. While I valued my freedom, Gertrude’s concerns about the storms hit close to home.
Nobody could raise the dead, and freedom meant little to a corpse.
Life had gotten too damned complicated.
To make it harder on Sandro and the other bounty hunters, I braved the outskirts and headed to the northernmost section of the city—or what was left of it. The swarms hadn’t treated the area kindly, and while a few buildings still stood, they were outnumbered by the bodies littering the streets. By the time the next storm swept through, the first set of bodies would start to stink. Scavengers and salvagers alike would test their luck and the weather for easy money, and even more people would lose their lives. The animals usually had the sense to run for shelter, but it wasn’t uncommon to find their bodies, too.
The first streets with surviving buildings became my target, and I looked for the markings on the walls and doors that indicated a landowner willing to rent out property to vagrants like me. I went six blocks in before I found a scrap of yellow fabric dangling from a window.
Once upon a time, when I’d been new in town and the outskirts had been a lot larger, I’d used the internet to find a place to live. I gave it a year before I forgot how to use a computer altogether.
Drawing a deep breath, I steeled my nerves and knocked.
A bent, old man with a crown of wispy hair answered the