Busted Flush

Woulda

Caroline Spector

I REALLY NEED TO get a new job.

Oh, I could handle the crazy hours and never having a moment to myself. But zombies? Christ, no one ever said anything about zombies.

I looked up from where we were working on the levees and saw a row of the ugly buggers watching us.

Earth Witch, Gardener, and Cameo (channeling Simoon today) were working with a Corps of Engineers guy to shore up the levees. I was too far away to hear what he was saying, but Earth Witch nodded after a while, then knelt down and put her hands on the ground.

A trench opened up a few feet away from her. But it wasn’t a deep one. It was low and wide and looked more like what you’d get from a bulldozer. Dirt flew from the edges as it sped toward the levee. A mass of earth was forming at the front of the trench. Enough dirt and they could do a decent patch on the weakened portion.

Cameo began to whirl. Even though the ground was still pretty wet, she managed a decent—if kinda slow and muddy—dirt devil. She spun toward the front of the trench and dropped a load of dirt on top.

Gardener pulled a pouch from her belt and ran to the edge of the water. Earth Witch and Cameo’s efforts had paid off. There was a substantial mass of earth bolstering the weakened side of the levee. Gardener opened her hand and threw some of the seeds out. They began to grow as they flew through the air. By the time they hit the mud, they were ready to root.

Cypress, live oak, and magnolia trees soared into the air. Their roots grabbed at the earth like gnarled hands, intertwining and sinking into the mud. Gardener threw a few more handfuls of seeds, and reeds and water plants began to fill in where it was still bare. In minutes, what had been stripped away by Harriet was lush vegetation.

Earth Witch flopped down to the ground. Cameo dropped next to her. “God, how many more of these are we going to have to do?” Earth Witch asked. Sweat was pouring off her. I was supposed to be her friend, but right now I couldn’t afford friends. Nothing I liked more than being head asshole.

My cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and saw it was Bugsy. I slipped away because I didn’t want Cameo (or Simoon or whoever of the smorgasbord that could potentially come through her) to know it was him. It rarely ended well when team members slept with each other—and Cameo/Simoon/Bugsy had added new twists to an old story. What a cluster fuck—as it were. Oh, and color me less than thrilled at having to deal with the not-quite-as-dearly-departed-as-I-thought via Cameo. I think the dead should stay dead. I’m wacky that way.

I walked to where it was a little quieter, and answered. “What’s up?” I asked.

“We’ve been able to get help from Mayor Connick’s office,” he said. “We’re coordinating our efforts with his. They even gave Holy Roller a block of time to broadcast evacuation instructions. They’ll replay that speech every hour.”

I let a bubble float up from my hand and hover above my palm. “Did you get the evacuation website up and running?”

I could almost hear him sigh. “Yes, of course I did,” he said. “Honestly, you’d think I was a massive screw-off the way you treat me.”

I let the bubble go and watched as it slowly rose into the air, drifting higher and higher.

“I don’t think you’re a screw-off, Bugsy,” I said. I was leaning backward, to keep an eye on the bubble. “I think you’re a massive smartass. Big difference. How’s the preacher doing?”

“If you like long-winded speeches with loads of references to Jay-sus, then he’s doing great.”

Suddenly Bugsy started giggling.

“What’s happening?” I asked. This was hardly the time for laughing.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just found a YouTube video of Holy Roller with fart noises inserted into his praise Jesus stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. We were trying to evacuate the city for a second time, and Bugsy was looking at fart videos.

“Send me a link,” I said.

I was checking my e-mail on my phone when the TV crew finally arrived. I’d asked Ink if she could find anything out about Niobe and Drake. There was a message from her:

To: prettybiggirl@ggd.com

From: tatsforless@ggd.com

Honeypie,

SCARE did not get Niobe and Drake. Like you, Billy Ray is going nuts trying to find them. He’s got agents looking for them all over Texas. It’s like they’ve vanished into thin air.

But he wants your ass. (He can’t have it because it’s mine, mine, MINE! LOL!)

You are in a world of shit right now. SCARE and BICC are hugely pissed about what went down in Cross Plains.

There are warrants out for your arrest. Aiding and abetting, resisting arrest, assault and battery, and a bunch of stuff I’m pretty sure they made up.

Hugs and Kisses,

Ink

I scrolled through my messages but there was nothing from Niobe or Drake. Their silence was beginning to frighten me. I knew they were angry about what had happened in Cross Plains. God knows, I wanted to throttle everyone at SCARE. I’d screwed up things there royally. There’s an ace talent to have: Fuck Up Girl. When she’s there, something’s bound to go wrong.

“Miss Pond!”

I turned off my phone and slipped it into my back pocket. One of the local TV anchors was mincing her way toward me. It was still pretty muddy. The sun had come out and the stench of sewage and dead fish rolled over us in waves. She looked out of place in her tidy pastel suit.

“Well, Miss Pond, you’re looking amazing, I must say,” she said.

Of course I did. I’d bubbled off almost all my weight for the media appearances I knew I’d have to do as team leader. Good thing Holy Roller was around. A few run-ins with him and I’d be back to bubble-icious.

I pulled myself up to my full height, which meant I towered over the anchor. “Are we ready to start shooting?” I asked.

“I, uh, thought we’d take a moment to set the shot,” the anchor stammered.

I gave her my sternest Team Leader look. “You’re joking, right? I’m trying to coordinate levee repairs, the evacuation of the city, and making sure people aren’t coming back into town, and you’re worrying about shot setups?”

She looked chastened. I was being a jerk, but I needed the TV people to get the message out and it couldn’t be fluff bullshit. Harriet had been bad. She’d been a category four storm, but Isaiah was turning into a category five. And coming on top of Harriet, I didn’t know what kind of disaster we’d be dealing with.

The people of New Orleans needed to know the Committee was here to help them—that we weren’t trying to destroy their homes or drive them from the city.

“Uh, let’s start rolling and we’ll do pickups later,” the cameraman said.

“Susan Wright here with the Amazing Bubbles, Michelle Pond,” the anchor began. “She and other members of the Committee have been here in New Orleans since before hurricane Harriet hit. What is the Committee doing as hurricane Isaiah is bearing down on our already sodden city?”

Sodden city? Ye gods, I thought.

I started walking toward Earth Witch, Gardener, and Simoon. They scrambled to their feet and tried to dust themselves off. But I was glad they looked dirty. It showed they’d been working.

Zombies. God, I hate zombies.

I walked up the sagging wooden steps to Hoodoo Mama’s dilapidated house. The smell alone could have dropped a horse. It was drizzling, though, and that dampened some of the odor. There were a couple of moldy pigeons eyeballing me. Zombie pigeons. Ew.

I was still checking e-mail as I went up the steps. But there were no messages from Niobe or Drake. And I couldn’t stop thinking about the Nigeria job, either. I was worried about John, Brave Hawk, Toady, and Snowblind. I worried about Lama even though I wasn’t that close to him.

The usual “doormen” were in place, but they didn’t flinch as I approached. I guess Hoodoo Mama remembered me from our last meeting. There was no one else on the team available to try and get Hoodoo Mama and her people to evacuate for this storm. And I didn’t know why Holy Roller thought zombie girl liked me. She called me “fucker” just like she did everyone else.

The door opened. A shambling corpse looked at me with dead eyes. “Come in, Miss Thang,” it said. That was Hoodoo Mama talking.

“Thanks,” I muttered. I didn’t want to be rude, but I was pretty sure a chunk of this zombie’s arm was about to drop off in the hallway.

I was led into the living room, where Hoodoo Mama was ensconced on her makeshift throne. The room was populated by a variety of zombified creatures. Most couldn’t have been dead more than a few days. But they were all definitely less than fresh. The smell was awesome.

And they were all watching TV.

“What the fuck do you want?” Hoodoo Mama asked. She was a tiny thing, swimming in her oversized clothes. Her hair was dark brown with a bright red shock running through it. I knew models that would have killed for her creamy coffee-colored skin. But most of all, there was this feral quality to her that made her a little scary.

“I’m here to convince you to move your people out of New Orleans before Isaiah hits.”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “You fuckers want me to bail again? I’ll tell you what I told you the last time—‘Fuck no.’”

I sighed. This was going pretty much how I had expected. “Look,” I said. “Harriet is going to seem like a cakewalk compared to what’s going to happen with Isaiah.”

“Yeah, you fuckers said something like that last time. We’re still here.”

I knew that besides the zombies, she had a bunch of nats living with her. I didn’t think she had any wild carders, but there were con artists, grifters, prostitutes, and French Quarter street performers hanging here with her. How many we had no way of knowing.

I put my hands on my hips and gave her my very best Team Leader look.

“The reason you’re all still here is because Earth Witch saved your hash and kept the levees from bursting. And the soil wasn’t completely saturated the way it is now.”

She shifted on her throne, looking a little less confident. “You been watching this American Hero shit?” she asked.

I stared at her for a moment, nonplussed.

“You know, that show you were on.”

“I know what you’re talking about,” I said testily. “What the hell does that have to do . . .”

One of the zombies got up and moved the TV so I could see it, too. The all-too-familiar theme was playing, and I saw they’d gone a little more upscale on the sets. Kandy Kane was tossing her “treats” out, and the other contestants were fighting one another to get them.

“She’s a bitch,” Hoodoo Mama said. “Why do they always have a bitch?”

The screen went to black, and then Holy Roller appeared. He started into his evacuation pitch, and I was pleased at how persuasive and caring he sounded.

“Damn, I don’t wanna hear any more of that,” Hoodoo Mama said. One of the zombies got up and turned the set off.

“Look,” I said. “I understand that you think everyone like me is full of shit.”

There was a wicked grin on her face at that. Her sharp white teeth shone. “Are you trying to convince me that you’re ‘street’ by saying ‘shit’? That’s fucking hysterical.” One of the zombie dogs growled at me.

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. I’d had virtually no sleep since Harriet hit, and here I was having to cajole this . . . this brat. “Look, I don’t care what you think about me,” I said. “You’ve got people here who are in danger. You know, live people. Why don’t you ask them if they’ll evacuate?”

She leaned forward. “I don’t fucking tell my people what to do,” she snarled. “I already fucking asked them if they wanted to leave, and the ones who did were gone yesterday.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Well, why didn’t anyone tell us?”

She leaned back and smiled. “Guess they didn’t feel like they could fucking trust you. And it’s really not you fuckers’ business, now. Is it?”

I wanted to smack her. She was so smug. So sure she knew everything and was in complete control. She was going to get someone killed. “Okay,” I said. “I see that you’re way ahead of us. But can’t you imagine a situation where things could get dire here?”

She shrugged. “I s’ppose.”

The wind picked up outside. We didn’t have a lot of time to chitchat about it. “Do you have provisions and water for your people if they’re stuck here for a week, maybe two?”

She glared at me and leaned forward in her chair. “I’m not fucking stupid. We have a larder. And anything we need, one of my children can fetch it for us.”

“While I admit that your zombies are handy,” I said, dropping my voice, “even they have limitations.”

“Bitch, you have no idea what their limitations are.” She snorted. “You fuckers have it easy. Show up at a place and take all the fucking glory.”

Oh, crap, not this tired song again.

“I know it appears that way,” I said. “But things often aren’t what they seem.”

I had to remind myself that her life had been really hard. She’d been on the street for years. Her mother was dead and there was no father. Shitty as my parents had been, at least they’d been there. Until they, you know, stole all my money and skipped the country.

My cell phone rang. It was Bugsy. “I gotta take this,” I said.

Hoodoo Mama waved her hand in an imperious manner.

“This is Michelle,” I said.

“Any luck?” he asked.

“Not so much.”

“You should try to charm her.”

I glanced at Hoodoo Mama and I noticed a piece of the wallpaper behind her was peeling off the wall.

“Uhm, that’s really not going to happen,” I said in my dubious voice. “Then I hate to say this, but if you can’t get her people out of there, you need to get out yourself. The outer edge of Isaiah has made landfall.”

I looked at Hoodoo Mama and her zombies. And I thought about the people she still had here. And that she was too young to know what she was getting herself into.

“I’m going to stay here,” I sighed. “Help out if I can.”

“What the fuck?” Hoodoo Mama said, jumping from her chair. “I didn’t invite you, bitch.”

I wagged a finger at her. “Where’s that famous Southern hospitality?”

“Are you insane?” Bugsy said. There was static on the line.

I turned and walked out of the living room.

“Look,” I said. “She’s practically a kid. There are people here who she’s supposed to be taking care of. I can’t just leave her here alone. This might be a way to show her we’re more than just a PR stunt. Maybe make her trust us.”

“Well, we’re all practically kids, Michelle,” Bugsy said.

I had a flash of fire and smelled the burning flesh again. I slumped against the wall. “I know,” I replied.

There was a long silence. I thought maybe we’d lost our signal. “Be careful, Michelle,” Bugsy said.

“You bet.”

The line went dead. I hoped it was just Bugsy hanging up and not the cell tower going down.

I went back into the living room. Hoodoo Mama glared at me. “And what the fuck do you think you’re doing? You fat dumb fucker.”

I guess I could have been offended. But I was fat at the moment. Holy Roller had taken care of that. And there was no doubt that what I had just done was really dumb.

I went and flopped down on the ratty couch, dropping my emergency goodie bag on the floor. “I think I’m fucking staying here and fucking helping you, whether you fucking want me to or not.”

The zombies leaned in toward me in a threatening manner. I stretched out as best I could and closed my eyes for a nap. I couldn’t help but smile.

Zombies. I hated them, but they couldn’t do a damn thing to me.

“Wake up.”

I was on a cool beach. The lake spread out before me. But the water would be cold when I jumped in.

“Wake up, you fat bitch.”

I opened one eye. Hoodoo Mama was crouched next to me. My back ached from sleeping on her ratty couch.

“Well, a happy good morning to you, too,” I said.

“It ain’t morning yet,” she replied. She pushed her shock of bright red hair out of her eyes. “We’ve got a problem.”

“We?” I sat up. We were alone in the living room. No zombies—yay.

“There are some people trapped in a building in the Ware house District.”

“I thought we got everyone out of there,” I said. I stood up and stretched. Something popped in my back, but it felt good.

“Not everyone,” she said. Her voice shook, and that got my attention. “Some of my people are still there.”

“I thought all your people were here,” I said. I couldn’t help the exasperated tone. “Damn it, you should have told me that there were more out there.”

She looked chagrined. About time, I thought.

“They didn’t want to stay here,” she said. “They don’t like the zombies.”

“Well, big points to them for showing good taste in companions, but the Russian judge is going to give them a major deduction for staying in New Orleans when there’s—you know—a hurricane coming!” I ended up shouting that last bit. “How do you know they’re in trouble?”

She shrugged. “Anything dead I can zombify. And there’s lots of mice around.”

I thought I might hurl. “Okay, no need to say more,” I said.

“Fuck you, you don’t know what it’s like!” she yelled. She took a step toward me, raising her fist as if she were going to hit me. Oooo, scared of that. “You fucking rich bitch. They might only have the house they’re in. Or the clothes on their back. And then someone tells them they have to pack up and get out because a hurricane might hit. Who can afford a fucking motel? And who’s to say the landlord or the bank won’t take your house away while you’re gone?”

Her zombies had come into the room while she was ranting. They looked pissed. But I knew they weren’t. It was her. She was possessing them, after all.

“Look, we don’t have time for the niceties here,” I said. “Let’s just get your people out.”

She glowered at me. God, I was sick of people who had a hate on for me while I was trying to help them.

I went to the front window and looked outside. It was pouring. Water covered the street and sidewalk.

“Do you have a boat?”

“Yeah, we got one,” she replied.

“Can your zombies carry it?”

“Yeah,” she said sullenly. “My zombies are handy.”

“Okay, get your boat and your zombies and meet me outside.”

For a moment I thought she was going to argue with me, but then she just set her lips into a thin line and led the zombies toward the back of the house.

After I pulled on my slicker and grabbed my emergency bag, I went outside. Even standing on the wide veranda of Hoodoo Mama’s house, I could feel the rain pelting me. It was coming down harder now, and I knew we didn’t have a lot of time.

Hoodoo Mama appeared around the corner of the house. Behind her were two big zombies carrying a boat between them. There was a small outboard motor clamped on the stern and a pair of oars inside.

“Don’t they get tired?” I yelled. The wind and rain were howling. “They don’t feel shit,” Hoodoo Mama replied. “They’re dead.” There wasn’t a lot to be said after that.

Hoodoo Mama maneuvered the boat toward one brick building that was covered with graffiti. She steered us toward a fire escape at the rear of the building. The zombies dropped off the boat and dog-paddled to it. Hoodoo Mama tossed them the rope, and they pulled us to the fire escape and tied up the boat.

Hoodoo Mama led the way up to the second floor. She grabbed the doorknob, but the door was locked.

“Shit.” She kicked the bottom of the door.

“I can blast it,” I said. I really wanted to blast something.

“Can you just take out the lock?”

I hadn’t bubbled since I’d gotten up to this weight, and I really wanted to do something big. On the other hand, the neighborhood was kinda crappy already, and after the water receded, there didn’t need to be a big gaping hole in the side of the building.

“Yeah, just a sec,” I said. I held my hands up and concentrated on the lock. Liquid fire surged through my veins. When it got hot enough, I let the bubble fly.

The lock exploded with a crunching sound, and Hoodoo Mama smiled at me. It was surprising to see such a sweet smile. Then it vanished. She turned away and opened the door.

Gray light filtered in through windows high up on the walls. There were offices ringing a wide balcony, with the center open to the warehouse floor below. We ran to the railing, looked down, and saw people clinging to rickety wooden shelves.

“Help us! Jesus, help us!” I saw arms waving here and there in the pale light.

“Why didn’t they just come up here?” I whispered to Hoodoo Mama.

“Look over there,” she said, pointing. The stairway had broken off halfway up.

“Then why didn’t they go out the door down there?”

“They went down to check the barricade on the door when the water started coming in. The stairs collapsed when they went back up.”

“And you know this because . . . ?”

“Remember? Zombie rats.”

I sighed and bent over to rest my head on the railing. I could taste bile in the back of my throat. I wanted to be anywhere but here with the responsibility for these people.

A tremendous crashing sound came from outside. A shriek came from below.

“It’s okay,” I shouted, straightening up. “We’re here to help you.”

“I think the levee may have broken,” Hoodoo Mama said. “That sound . . . there’s one not far from here.”

“Listen up,” I yelled. “I’m going to make you some flotation devices. I want you to grab them and paddle over here. We’ll pull you up. Okay?”

There was no answer.

Before I could say “Okay” again, Hoodoo Mama had stepped to the railing.

“You fuckers know who I am, right?” she said loudly. “Bubbles here has a good idea, and I want you to follow it.”

“I can’t swim,” came a faint voice.

“All you need to do is grab hold of the bubble and paddle it over here,”

I said.

“What if I fall off?”

“I’ll jump in and get you,” I said. “Ready?”

I extended my hands as if I were holding a playground ball, and shimmering iridescence formed between my palms. I made it larger—about the size of a beach ball—and I made it nice and firm, so it wouldn’t burst when they were holding on to it.

I glanced down to see where I needed the bubble to go, then sent it on its way. It flew across the warehouse and splashed into the water close to one of the men. The bubble skittered across the surface and he grabbed it.

I kept making bubbles. My pants loosened, and I stopped bubbling for a moment to cinch them tighter. In the pale light, I could see that a few people had actually bobbed over to us already.

“I’ve got a rope in here,” I said, slinging my emergency bag at Hoodoo Mama.

She grabbed the bag, yanked the zipper open, and pulled out the rope. Her zombies came to the edge of the balcony and stood next to me. It was creepy as hell that they didn’t breathe.

“Okay, here’s the rope,” I said to the bubble-floater closest to us. “What’s your name?”

“Floyd,” the man in the water said. His teeth were chattering a little and it made “Floyd” come out as “Fffffloyd.”

“Floyd, I want you to grab the rope as high as you can. You’ll have to let go of the bubble.”

“I can’t swim,” he said.

“No problem,” I replied. “I can. You get in trouble, I’ll come for you.”

“Are those zombies up there?” His voice quavered.

I sighed. “Yes, Floyd, they’re zombies. But they’re not going to do anything to you. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

But Floyd just clung to the bubble.

Hoodoo Mama flung herself against the railing. It groaned and swayed.

“Grab the rope, fucker!” she yelled.

He did. The zombies hauled him up.

One down.

Leaning toward Hoodoo Mama, I whispered, “Got any idea how many are down there?”

She whispered back, “I dunno. Maybe twenty.”

The zombies pulled more people from the water. After a while, the men we’d rescued started helping pull people up, too. Then the water began to rise. I didn’t want to say anything, but it looked like Hoodoo Mama was right. The levee had broken.

I pulled Hoodoo Mama aside. “We can’t get them all out of here,” I said. “One small boat isn’t going to cut it.”

She grabbed my hand and led me toward one of the offices. “Look,” she said, opening the door to one of the offices.

Inside there were cots folded up against one wall and cases of water stacked in a corner.

“They’ve been planning for this since Harriet,” she said. “I helped them.”

“This isn’t enough for that many people.”

“I know that,” she said. She planted her fists on her skinny hips and gave me a look I was now all too familiar with. “Every office on this floor has cots, blankets, water, rations, first aid kits. We didn’t know how many people would be staying. Luckily, fewer than we expected.”

“What about a generator? Bathroom facilities?”

“We got stuff covered. Oh, fuck!” She ran out of the room to the railing. Down below, a man was floundering in the water. I started to bubble up another floating ball, but I could see he was already panicking.

“Crap,” I said. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my baggy pants. I was not looking forward to jumping into that stinking mess. Outside, with the rain coming down, it was harder to tell just how bad the smell was. But in here, it was foul.

I grabbed the rail, hoisted myself over, and dropped into the water.

It was a shock when I hit. I’d expected it to be warm, but it was pretty damn cold. The guy who’d been floundering had sunk. I dove for him, but it was too dark to see anything. So I surfaced and yelled, “Get my flashlight out of my bag!”

A few seconds later, I saw Hoodoo Mama at the railing with the flashlight in her hand. She tossed it to me, but she was no Curveball. I had to lunge for it. It was my trusty, waterproof, small-but-bright flashlight. I’d had it since Egypt.

I switched it on, clamped it in my teeth, and dove under again. There was slightly more visibility now, but not loads. The next time down, I found him.

It was tricky getting him up. He was kicking and flailing. I hooked my arms under his arms. As we surfaced, he started sputtering and thrashing harder. So I held him tighter and said, “Dude, I’m trying to save you here. Don’t make me sorry I did.”

He settled down after that, and I got him under the railing.

I released one arm and bubbled with my free hand.

“Hold on to this,” I said as I slid the bubble into his hands. “Lay back like you’re in an easy chair. Yeah, that’s perfect. I’m getting the rope and we’ll get you out of here. Okay?”

He gasped, then squeezed the bubble for dear life. “Yeah, okay.”

I swam to the rope, grabbed it, and swam back.

“What’s your name?” I asked the man.

“Dave,” he said.

“Okay, Dave,” I said as I began to ease the bubble from his hands. I got one hand off and gave him the rope. He grabbed it and let go of the bubble with the other hand. The zombies pulled him up.

As they pulled him up, I noticed that the water had gotten much deeper. The railing was closer now.

He rose out of the water like a landed fish, water sluicing off him in a sheet.

The zombies had just gotten Dave hauled belly-first across the railing when it gave a rusty moan. He squirmed himself the rest of the way home, kicking off the railing. It tottered for a moment, and then it came down on top of me.

Of course, it didn’t hurt, but it did shove me underwater. I sank, thinking I would be able to push myself away from the railing. But it was moving faster than I had expected. I couldn’t get out from under it. And I couldn’t see anything.

I banged into something and a whole pile of stuff fell over on me, pinning me facedown on the warehouse floor. One of my hands was palmup, so I let some bubbles go, but I missed whatever was on top of me.

And then my stomach clenched with fear. I didn’t know if anyone else could swim, but I wasn’t optimistic. Who could get all this crap off my back anyway? I thought about bubbling downward and blasting through the floor, but odds were I’d hit either more water or just dirt.

My breath was running out. I tried to twist around, but I was stuck.

Don’t panic, I thought.

Too late.

Yellow blotches bloomed in my vision. The urge to breathe was too great. I gasped and water rushed into my mouth, down my throat, and burned in my lungs. The yellow blotches went red. And then there was the endless blackness of the water.

It was really a relief. I didn’t have to think about the people who’d died because of me, or little girls who’d been raped, or Ink, or John Fortune, Niobe, or Drake, or anything anymore.

“Is she all right?”

I opened my eyes. Crap. Zombies. Then I rolled onto my side and started coughing and puking up water.

Someone wrapped a blanket around me. “I thought you were fucking indestructible,” said Hoodoo Mama, holding my hair back.

“I’m like the Wicked Witch of the West. Water can kill me,” I croaked.

My throat was sore and my sinuses burned. I pushed myself onto my hands and knees. “How did I get out?”

“I don’t swim,” Hoodoo Mama said. “But the zombies don’t breathe. So I sent them in for you.”

My throat and lungs were on fire, but in an “Oxygen Is Our Friend!” way. I never thought stale, fetid, sewage-tinged, flooded-warehouse air could smell so good.

“Did we get everyone out?”

“Yeah, every one of them.” Hoodoo Mama smiled at me. That surprised me. “I’ve got Dave and Floyd setting up the cots in each office. C’mon, we’ve got one for you.”

I stood up, but I was still a little unsteady. “What about everyone else? Is the water still rising? Are we safe here?”

“Jesus Christ, the water has stopped rising. This place is a dump, but has good enough bones to make it through this. That’s why I chose it. Fuck all, stop worrying and come lie down.”

“I smell terrible.”

She rolled her eyes. “Tell me, Jesus, what did I do to deserve this fucker? I think we’ve got some wet wipes.”

“Bubbles.”

I woke with a start. I was never going to get a full night’s sleep again. “Yeah, I’m here. Anything wrong?”

“No,” Hoodoo Mama said softly. “I just wanted to talk.”

I rolled over to face her and pushed my hair back. “Okay, what’s up?”

She was sitting on the floor next to the cot, hugging her knees. “I guess, I, I just wanted to say that as fuckers go, you’re not too bad.”

“Mmm, high praise indeed.”

“Now why the fuck would you go and say something like that? I was being sincere.”

I pushed myself up onto my elbow. “I’m sorry. I’ve been dealing with some stuff lately. And my God, it smells like ass in here.”

“You know what ass smells like? I find that mighty difficult to believe.”

I stifled a laugh, but it really did smell awful.

“C’mon,” she said as she stood up, grabbed the blanket off my bed, and went to the door.

I got up and followed her. We went toward the back of the building where we’d come in. She opened a door and led me into a stairwell. We went up to the third floor.

I’d thought there would be offices, but it was just a big unfinished area. There were windows around the perimeter of the room. Some were broken and let in the air. It wasn’t a lot cooler than downstairs, but it didn’t stink as much.

Hoodoo Mama went to the window closest to us and opened it. We were in the eye of the storm, and things were oddly quiet. We both leaned out of the window, sucking in the fresh air.

“There’s a lot of bodies in that water,” she said softly. That was part of her power, no doubt, knowing where the dead bodies were. It was a terrible power, I realized. Always knowing death.

“So, you were saying that you’re going through shit,” she said suddenly. “You want to tell me about it?”

I was surprised. I’d come to the conclusion that Hoodoo Mama had three modes: kill fuckers, annoy fuckers, ignore fuckers. And what could I say about my life? Killing people who are trying to kill me isn’t as much fun as it’s cracked up to be?

I shrugged. “You’ll probably think it’s stupid, but I got a friend of mine in big trouble with SCARE. They’re this government agency that . . .”

“I know what SCARE is,” she said coldly. She turned away from the window, then shook out the blanket and laid it on the floor. “Anyone got a wild card know who SCARE is.”

We plunked down on the blanket together. I sat Indian style and toyed with a loose piece of weave.

“So, I get sent to do a mission to save this friend of mine. Only after all hell breaks loose do I find out that the guys who are asking me to do all this stuff have lied to me.” It still made me mad thinking about it. Thinking how they lied to me and almost got Drake and Niobe killed.

“Lied to you about what?”

I could feel my hands shaking again. I shoved them under my butt. “They told me that there was this wicked powerful ace I had to ‘contain.’ Turns out that the ace was a kid. He was only thirteen,” I said as I began to rock back and forth. “And so I accidentally betrayed my friend, Niobe, who was helping him escape these other assholes—who I now know want to kill him.”

Her face went cold. “These SCARE guys want to kill some kid because he’s powerful? Fuckers.”

I nodded grimly. “Yeah, they are. At least the Committee was trying to get him away from them.”

“So, the Committee protects kids?”

I nodded. “I’m still pissed as hell that they didn’t tell me everything about him, but they were trying to keep him safe.” I closed my eyes. “When we went to Egypt, I brought down these helicopters with soldiers in them.” My voice broke. I bit my lip and took a deep breath to steady myself. I continued. “They caught fire and when they fell I could smell them. Like burnt pork. And they screamed.” I opened my eyes and looked at Hoodoo Mama. “I can’t tell you how it sounded when they screamed.”

She shrugged. “From what I heard, sounded like those fuckers deserved it.”

I hugged my knees to my chest.

“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. If I had died, would I have deserved it?” I stared out the open window. The light was tinged a strange green color. And all those people I killed would never see any light again. “And there were other things. The Behatu rape camp. Jesus, you don’t want to know what that was like.”

“Did you kill the fuckers who did that?” “Yeah, that doesn’t bother me much. It was the women we found there that haunt me.”

“I know what that’s like,” Hoodoo Mama said. It was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. And when I looked at her face I knew what had happened to her. I swallowed hard and then I leaned forward and whispered, “Did someone rape you?”

For a moment, her hard expression collapsed. The naked pain there was terrible to see. She didn’t answer me, but she nodded.

“I’m so sorry.” Then I took her hand in mine.

“That’s how I got to be Hoodoo Mama,” she said after a few moments.

“My card turned then.” She wiped her nose on the back of her shirt sleeve.

“The fucker died screaming.”

“Good,” I said. I gave her hand a squeeze. Then she put her arms around me. So I put my arms around her.

We held each other for a while. I felt her stroke my hair. Then she slid a hand up my arm to my shoulder and started caressing my neck.

“I, uhm, Hoodoo Mama,” I said.

“Call me Joey. That’s my real name.” Her lips were hovering over mine, and then she kissed me. And, heaven help me, I kissed her back.

It started tender, and then it became hard. She ground her lips into mine and jabbed her tongue into my mouth. She shoved me backward. And I was startled by how strong she was. But it wasn’t as if she could hurt me.

“I shouldn’t,” I said. I felt like someone had just punched me in the gut. “I have a girlfriend.”

“Fuck her. Fuck me instead. I’m here.” It was filled with pain and desire.

She yanked my arms over my head and pinned them and then she mounted me, grinding her hips into mine. A shudder ran through my body. I was trembling and hot. She slid her hand into my panties.

I opened my eyes and saw her face. It was angry and excited and hurt all at once. And I knew that this was the only way she knew how to have sex. I started to move away from her, trying to think of some way to stop us from doing this thing I wanted to do so much it frightened me.

She grabbed my breast with her free hand and squeezed it hard. Then she yanked up my T-shirt. Her mouth came over my nipple. At first she just licked and sucked, but then she began to bite. It hurt and thrilled me.

And so I let myself be drawn into her rage and pain. She bit, slapped, and scratched me . . . but, of course, it didn’t damage me. I tried not to come, but she kept biting and licking me. She punched and slapped me until I started shaking and couldn’t stop myself.

And then when she came, she dug her hands into my flesh as if she would never let me go.

The wind and rain howled outside. The back door of the hurricane was passing over us now.

Pale light streamed in through the windows. I blinked, then rolled over and saw Hoodoo Mama watching me.

“Do you think the Committee would be interested in me?”

“Uhm, yeah,” I said. I looked away, then rolled onto my side and sat up. I started looking for my clothes. My stomach hurt.

“Then I’d like to join. If you think they’d have me.”

“Oh, well, that’s great.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. A stab of guilt surged through me, but I shoved it aside. Fortune and Jayewardene were always looking for powerful aces for the Committee. And Joey certainly would fit the bill. They’d be thrilled to have her. And that it was her idea would appeal to them even more.

I grabbed my phone and turned it on, hoping I would get some kind of signal. And there was one, but it was faint. I tried calling Bugsy, but he didn’t answer.

I downloaded my e-mail. I still had no word from Drake or Niobe, but there was another e-mail from Ink.

My stomach hurt worse. I opened the message.

To: prettybiggirl@ggd.com

From: tatsforless@ggd.com

Sweetie,

Last thing I heard, Billy Ray is taking a team to NOLA to arrest you. If there is anything I can do, you let me know. I’ll try to come to New Orleans as soon as they start letting people back in the city.

Be safe.

All my love,

Ink

I wasn’t afraid of Billy Ray or his team. I’d cleaned Billy Ray’s clock the last time we’d met. But here I was screwing someone else while Ink had risked her job to tell me they were coming. God, I sucked.

“So, soon as we’re out of here,” Hoodoo Mama said, “we’re going to hook up with the other Committee members, right?”

I nodded. I didn’t think I could speak. But I thought I might throw up. Fuck Up Girl strikes again.