Calculating the goon with the gun behind me wouldn’t risk offing his pal, I fell forward and rammed both palms into Scaredy-Cat’s chest. He was twice as big as I was, so I couldn’t hope to knock him down, just throw him off-balance with surprise. While he staggered to regain his footing, I grabbed his jacket and located the bulge of his gun. I aimed my knee at his balls at the same time I relieved him of his weapon.
I’m not much on guns, and Pearl was in the way of a shoot-out, so disarming was my only intent. I flung the weapon into the shrubbery as Scaredy-Cat gasped and curled around his bruised junk. Saturn had fixed my lameness. That didn’t mean he’d made my knees any less bony.
Milo shrieked his mighty roar and leaped for the guy with the gun. But my cat had to sail past Pearl, and his aim was off. He merely landed on the intimidator’s shoulder. The goon shouted with pain as Milo ripped at his ear, but he didn’t drop the gun. I had to act fast before my cat got hurt.
There were no water sprinklers to imagine raining on this parade. No pots of shit available. I did the best I could with what I had on hand—I called on the yellow-jacket nest I’d been giving wide berth all summer. While Milo ripped an ear, I envisioned enraged wasps and directed them at the intimidator with the gun.
I dropped to the ground, and Pearl had the sense to step out of the way as well.
Man, you’d think the intimidator had personally kicked wasp ass, I thought admiringly as a black, angry cloud rose over the rail. With a little help from my visualization, the furies of hell swarmed out of the bushes like all the plagues of Egypt. Yellow jackets hurt. Even Milo leapt to the rail and over to Tim’s porch for safety.
With furious wasps swarming his head, the intimidator hurdled the railing, screaming. He crushed a few half-dead azaleas below and fled for the sedan. While Scaredy-Cat nearly fell off the step dodging angry insects, the main mass of the yellow-jacket nest followed on the gunman’s tail. Pearl shrieked and ran back inside. The bugs didn’t follow her. They stuck with the gray-suited goon.
With the wasps safely heading in the right direction, I straightened when the guy with bruised balls tried to run and kicked his knee, hard. He howled. That’s when the cop cars screamed down the street, a little late for the party.
The med student and his suit merely stared and wisely stayed out of the way of the swarming insects. I figured Tim dodged back inside. He didn’t like police or wasps.
I hadn’t had my breakfast yet, and I get mean on an empty stomach. I just leaned against the porch rail, crossed my puny brown arms, and let the big men figure out how to handle the situation.
Andre arrived in his Mercedes convertible right after the cop cars parked a fair distance from the raging insects. The intimidator was inside his sedan, but yellow jackets have a reputation for a good reason. They’d followed him in, and the ones on the outside were circling the car, hunting for new openings. The goon was screaming bloody murder and swatting too hard to turn on the ignition.
Scarcely giving the swarming bugs a second glance, Andre strolled toward me, both fighting a grin and wearing his stern, don’t-mess-with-me demeanor. Two-faced shark, the bastard.
“I was thinking pancakes for breakfast,” I called, remembering my bedhead and combing my fingers through my thick mane. That was usually all it took to tame it. Andre’s appreciative gaze said the gesture worked. “Leo said he’d be here shortly. Want to join us?” I asked.
“Blueberry with antifreeze syrup?” he asked sarcastically. Despite my most excellent offer, he didn’t take my arm and retreat to more pleasant environs. Instead, he grabbed the collar of the guy I’d just kneed and dragged him upright.
Now that the Zone’s unofficial mayor had arrived, the cops warily climbed out of their cars. The yellow jackets stuck to the unmarked white sedan. The baddies weren’t going anywhere in their vehicle anytime soon.
I nodded at the corner and called to the cops, “There’s another car blocking the alley, if you want one that isn’t under attack.”
A pair of uniforms peeled off in that direction. The other pair separated, one taking Andre’s prisoner, the other advancing on the frozen fool on the other porch. So maybe that one really did think he was legitimately evacuating the neighborhood, which made him an even bigger fool.
“We think they’re the same thieves who broke into the warehouse,” I lied to the officers. “They were threatening poor Pearl and pulled a gun on me. I’ll happily press charges.”
Policemen didn’t like the Zone because we were peculiar and our troubles seldom fell under normal laws. So I prettified the situation in terms they understood.
“What have you got inside that they’d go to this much trouble for?” one uniform sensibly asked, handcuffing my black-and-blue-balled victim.
I pulled the fake evacuation orders out of Scaredy-Cat’s pocket and handed them over as evidence. “Green gas,” I said with a straight face. “Evidence of chemical warfare and valuable only to Acme.”
“Neighborhood dispute?” the cop translated wryly.
“You can call it that. We may not have evidence on the warehouse break-in, but we have witnesses who saw them attempt to enter our houses under false pretenses. Waspman pulled a gun. You’ll find it in the yews. Just let me know what you need and I’ll comply,” I said with good cheer, hiding my fury. If I didn’t have to work regular hours anymore, I could spend as much time as I liked testifying against bad guys.
This realization was a totally major development and walloped me upside the head.
By offering to take me on as partner, Julius was doing me a favor so large I couldn’t comprehend the immensity. Without Judge Snootypants breathing down my collar, I had time to pursue justice legally, without interference from anyone, a hitherto unknown freedom. I wanted to pop champagne and dance, but I’d have to save it until I had Acme where I wanted them.
I wasn’t pretending my new job would be easy. The walls I had to climb next were perpendicular and towered way out of my sight. But I stupidly preferred challenges to pouring coffee for twerps.
Andre stalked up the stairs to shut me up, apparently not liking the determination in my eyes. He wasn’t fond of the law interfering in his territory, but that gun had been in
“Let’s have those pancakes, Clancy,” he said menacingly. “The men in blue can handle your prisoners, if you’ll call off your wasps.”
I appreciated that he understood who was in control here. “Anyone have a hose?” I called helpfully. “Just squirt them down.”
I was still furious, but I hoped I had it under wraps. No one came after me with a gun or threatened my friends without consequence.
21
“If I open an office in your building, will I be placing Pearl and the others in jeopardy?” I demanded as soon as Andre and I hit my apartment. “I don’t want them waking up to any more mornings like this.”
“They woke up to green gas from Acme the other day,” he said grumpily. “The ground is threatening to crack open and swallow us. They know this isn’t a safe neighborhood. At least they’re not dealing with gang shoot-outs and druggies on the corner.”
I wasn’t mollified. If I was to be a free agent, I didn’t have to toe anyone’s lines but my own. I had Acme in my sights. I had no idea if the gas cloud had been intentional, but I hated that they were experimenting with dangerous chemical weapons that had reached families up the hill as well as the trolls who hung around the Zone. Bill and Sarah had made their own choices, but kids didn’t have that opportunity.
I didn’t tell Andre that. He had a murder charge hanging over his head. That had to be his priority. He was peculiarly pale after his encounter with prison bars, but at least he was alive and not a zombie. I tried not to give him ideas by showing my relief.
