Subhuman Resources: The Third Kelly Chan Novel Page 6

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jessica was a girly girl. Her favorite color was pink, she scrimped to get her nails done every couple weeks and her hair was always perfect. So it was no surprise her dream job was working as a sales rep for a new cosmetics company.

  I looked them up online before hopping in my truck and heading south on I-25. The name of the company was Conjure Couture and had started as an underground clothing store that went viral, got some additional venture capital and was now expanding into a line of eco-friendly make-up. No matter how deep I dug, I couldn’t find out who the financial backer was. That wasn’t surprising. Conjure Couture’s webpage showed women with faces done up as mermaids, big-eyed Lolitas and retro disco queens. Coming Soon! Step out of the shadows and be beloved! flashed across the page every few seconds. That plus the address was enough for me to suspect Conjure Couture wasn’t selling your everyday mascara.

  And Conjure Couture was still hiring. Looking for beautiful people full of joie de vivre! Overcome your fears, be brave and apply today! Paid internships available for teens! And guys, come apply because we love you too! An obnoxious emoji blew a stream of heart-shaped kisses. I wanted to punch it.

  I thought about the girls who had gone missing and wondered if any detectives had bothered checking their emails for ‘paid internships.’ How many missing boys had said yes to those internships, too?

  I parked in front of a nondescript building off Alton Way, one of several boxy warehouse-plus-a-front-office places that all looked alike. My front bumper kissed the snowbank in front of it. I jumped down from the driver’s side and pretended to wobble a bit on my stiletto platform boots, in case anyone was watching through the smoked-out window in front. My black puffy coat went down to my knees, which poked out through artfully torn holes in my jeans. My make-up matched my Powerpuff anime t-shirt, giving me flawless skin, blushing cheeks and overlarge eyes behind retro cat’s eye glasses. My hair was done up in two ponytails with rainbow-colored holders. I looked ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as when I’d bought the stuff in a store I wouldn’t have been caught dead in at sixteen, let alone now. I told the clerk the clothes were for my twelve-year-old niece.

  I pulled on the door as a formality, knowing it would be locked on a Sunday. I peered in at a middle-aged woman behind a receptionist’s desk who stared back at me with a bemused look. I put on a great big smile, waved, and banged on the glass door. Who was I to question Floor Licker’s successful tactics?

  She finally got up to open the door. Her perfume nearly knocked me over. Her face was more done-up than mine and her hair was a shade of pink only found on a flamingo. “I’m sorry, but we’re wholesale only.”

  “Oh, yeah, I know. But I’m like, here for the job?”

  The receptionist looked me up and down. “Which job?”

  “Sales rep? I’m supposed to interview… Oh my God! It’s Sunday, isn’t it?” I laughed and whacked myself on the forehead. “Sorry! Oh my God, I just drove straight through from California and I’m a little loopy. I thought this was Monday.”

  The receptionist looked past me to the truck, specifically to Jessica’s couch and some other furniture, half-covered with a fraying tarp in the truck bed. The snowbank blocked my Colorado license plate. I prayed to the parking gods that there were no surveillance cameras in the lot that would pick up the rear plate.

  She looked back at me. “Goodness. Did you come all by yourself?”

  “I did! I was freaking out the whole way, but like your website said, I overcame my fears and here I am!” I wrapped my arms around my body and rocked back and forth. “Brrr! I knew Colorado was cold but this is like hellacold! I’m so not used to it. Do you think I can just come in and warm up for a sec before I try and find a place to crash?”

  The woman scanned the empty parking lot before smiling wide and opening the door all the way for me. I scooted in past her. As she held the door, she confirmed what I already suspected. While her clothes were there, her bare hand cast no reflection in the glass. The back of her head did cast a reflection, which threw me off until I realized she must be wearing a wig. The weirdest thing was when she started to close the door and her face was caught in profile in the glass. It was there, but translucent and her eyes were empty. The reflection was of her heavy make-up, not her skin.

  I looked around the office – matte paint in dark hues, no framed wall art, lots of accent lamps at odd angles, furniture made of heavily-brushed steel – not a reflective surface in sight, but plenty of shadows. The receptionist offered me a seat in front of her desk and sat down behind it.

  “Well, now you barely look old enough for a driver’s license, let alone to drive cross-country all by your lonesome.”

  “Gosh, thanks, I’m actually twenty,” I lied. “It’s the make-up, right? Works miracles when you use the good stuff.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. The right stuff can take out all sorts of imperfections.” The ghoul opened her desk drawer and I tensed. She took out a manila folder and opened it flat, followed by a tube of Conjure Couture hand cream. “Lucky for you, I’m in human resources. Since you’re already here, we might as well get you processed now, so you can start right away tomorrow.” She looked me up and down again, like a vertical buffet. “I have a good feeling about you.”

  She pushed the folder across the desk. “The world is built on paperwork, Miss…?”

  “Kim. I’m Kim. And you are?”

  “Call me Mrs. Turner. I hope you don’t mind filling this out before we get started with the interview. Pens are in the cup there.”

  “Brought my own.” I pulled out my favorite stainless steel pen and wrote my new name in the first blank, followed by a social security number pulled straight from my ass. I paused and frowned at the next question. I started nibbling on the end of the pen.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Can I still get the job if I don’t fill out every last question?”

  “Well, that depends. Which question is it?” She leaned forward and I got knocked in the face with her perfume.

  “The one about an emergency contact? I like, don’t really have one right now.”

  “No?” The ghoul’s eyes brightened behind her blue contacts. Her chin was smooth – either she didn’t eat the living, or she hadn’t made it onto a no-kill list. My money was on the latter, but either way suited me just fine. “You don’t have anyone you could contact in an emergency?”

  I took a deep breath and pieced together half a dozen of my students’ lives. “It’s kinda embarrassing, but it’s like, dad? What dad? And my mom kicked me out so I went to move in with my boyfriend, but he got all crazy on me and shit – oops, shouldn’t say shit in an interview, huh?”

  “It’s understandable, dear.” Turner opened the tube of lotion and smoothed it onto her hands. “You don’t have any friends, either? No BFF?”

  “That’s why my boyfriend went all cray-cray. I caught him with my BFF. I hate them both.” I shrugged and smiled. “I didn’t even unpack my truck, just came straight out here. I was gonna do it anyway, I mean. I’d seen your website a while ago and was gonna like try and talk my boyfriend into coming with me, but that didn’t happen, obviously.”

  Turner put on the most sympathetic smile I’d ever seen. Her teeth were as perfect as Jiggs’. She stood up and walked slowly around the side of the desk. Her eyes never left my face. “I can’t imagine any mother who would kick you out. Mothers should protect their daughters.” Turner stopped behind me. I tried to project the perfect balance between nervous and ingratiating. I didn’t turn around. Instead I hung my head.

  “I can see that you’ve been through so many frightening things, you’re out on your own, and yet here you are. We love to see that in our candidates.”

  Any minute now.

  “Have you had many other girls like me? I mean, like, do I have a chance?”

  Turner laughed. “You’ll be a great asset. Bonnie could use you right about now. She’ll be thrilled, I’m
sure.”

  “Who’s Bon—”

  Turner’s hands went around my face, covering my nose and mouth as she pulled me backwards against her. The cream she’d used had a medicinal smell that I hadn’t noticed thanks to her perfume. I grabbed the ghoul’s wrists and pulled just as I felt the cream take effect. It was designed to be strong and quick, and my eyes drooped as I dropped my hands and slumped in the chair. I carefully tucked my pen up my sleeve while gripping it. Didn’t want to lose that. It was my favorite pen for a reason.

  I heard two different sets of footsteps come from the far side of the room.

  Turner spoke. “Good, I was just about to call you guys in.”

  “We were watching from the shadow. Nice catch.” A youngish man’s voice, maybe in his thirties. It was hard to tell exactly and I couldn’t open my eyes to check.

  “Thanks. She’s my catch, so she’d better go to Bonnie. I’ll come with you just to make sure. You know how things in human resources can sometimes go astray. Including the resources themselves.” Turner playfully tugged on one of my ponytails.

  New hands picked me up under the armpits and at the shins. Two men – or ghouls, I suspected – carried me like a hammock full of rocks while Turner walked at my side, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

  “Nice that we didn’t have to go out for this one.” The new voice was also male, but older-sounding than the first.

  “Don’t you just love free delivery?” Turner laughed again.

  They carried me straight into a shadow, and then all I knew was darkness.

  But when I came out of it, everything was familiar. I knew exactly where they’d taken me.

  DGI’s training facility for Sekutar warriors. The prodigal daughter was home.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  DGI had updated the place in the years since I’d fought my way out, but it was still austere, still a crucible for forging warriors. Through slit eyes I could see that the ghouls had carried me from a shadow into the practice gym. Weapons lined the beige walls and there were no mats on the floors – mats weren’t needed for fighters who felt no pain and healed almost immediately.

  DGI wasn’t supposed to have any more Sekutar, but they’d obviously kept the program going in secret. Color me not surprised. We had the place to ourselves; no one was training. Disappointing.

  Turner looked around. “I hoped Bonnie would be here. Damn. Okay, don’t take this one to the pens. Let me find out where Bonnie is, and we’ll deliver direct.”

  “They’ll want to wake this one up before the kill though, won’t they?” Older Ghoul was speaking again. He had me by the armpits. “Might be better to secure her in a holding pen. Those are the rules.” We stopped in the middle of the room. I could feel the tension coming off Turner.

  “What, are you afraid of a little girl?” Turner barked out a laugh. “This is what New Mother promised us, that we wouldn’t have to be afraid of anyone. I said we’d take her straight to Bonnie, and that’s what we’ll do.”

  I could feel the other two ghouls’ indecision in the way they held my body. I started to slump just a little as they unconsciously loosened their grip. They didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. Come on, guys, I thought. Let’s be chicken, follow the damn rules and take me to the holding pens with the rest of the new hires.

  “All right, we’ll take her to Bonnie.” said Younger Ghoul. “But it’s not in the spirit of sharing.”

  Turner’s voice was a nasty hiss. “Things are different under New Mother. My catch, my decision. So let’s go.”

  We started off in another direction toward a different door, Turner in the lead. What little effect the knock-out cream had on me was gone and I decided that since they weren’t taking me where Jessica might be, I’d had enough of playing possum.

  Gripping my pen, I swung my arm across my body and drove it into Older Ghoul’s arm. He let go of me with a shriek and I grabbed his legs on the way down, using him for leverage against Younger Ghoul who still had my shins. I squeezed my legs around his torso and crunched. Turner was still trying to figure out what was happening when I played London Bridge and we all fell down. We’ll just say I had a better landing than the ghouls did and that I can wield a tactical pen as well as any weapon. I was the only one who got back up.

  I smiled at Turner. “Guess I failed the interview, huh?”

  Turner’s face filled with hatred. “You bitch! They were my friends.”

  “Didn’t sound like it.” I grabbed Turner and put her into a painful hold. She struggled against me. She was unnaturally strong like all ghouls, but she had no training so I held her easily.

  “Now, you’re going to show me where you keep the holding pens, and you’re going to hope that one of them is holding my friend, Jessica.”

  “I will not!” Turner fought to break the hold.

  “I can find them myself; it’ll just take a little longer. I used to live here, and have a pretty good idea where they are. I’m trying to give you a chance to live, but I’m beginning to wonder why.” I tightened my grip on her arm, which was bent back at an unnatural angle. Turner groaned and stopped fighting.

  “Kill me then because I won’t help you.”

  I held Turner in front of me and started marching us toward the first door. “Who’s Bonnie?”

  “Bonnie will devour you.”

  “So Bonnie’s a ghoul with the taste. Is she New Mother, too?”

  “She’ll devour you for New Mother.” Her voice ended in a sob. “She’ll devour you for me!”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The hallway in front of us was dark. I couldn’t risk taking Turner in there because she’d just disappear into a shadow and warn the whole building, if they hadn’t seen me already.

  I wasn’t going to get anything else out of her, so I stopped at the doorway.

  “Last chance,” I said.

  “Kill me.”

  I don’t like to be told what to do even when it’s my own idea, so I slammed her head against the wall hard enough to knock her out, but not enough to kill her. That would buy me a few minutes to grab a real weapon off the gym wall and leave. Then, I’d find Jessica and get her the hell out of Dodge.

  I had to believe I would find her.

  Tactical pens are great, but they aren’t katanas. Luckily, I had my pick of those from the walls, along with machetes, axes, throwing stars and any number of other goodies. I was a kid in the candy store of death. I took off my coat, which would only hamper my movements, tossed it over Turner who was snoozing away on the floor, and examined the katanas on the wall closest to me.

  “No shit.” I recognized the handle on one and grabbed it. Two tiny letters were scratched into the end: KC. My old training katana, which I’d marked as mine out of defiance. Even back then, I refused my masters where I could.

  “Hey pretty lady! Whatcha got there?”

  I spun around to see three people entering the practice room. Two men and a woman – seemed to be the theme of the day. If I didn’t know where I was, I would have sworn I’d stumbled into an Olympic training gym and this was the gymnastics team. But these weren’t athletes – they were Sekutar warriors, like me. Buff was an understatement. Through their tight-fitting workout clothes, I could see muscles on them that hadn’t been invented yet. The woman sported a bright red buzz cut a la Annie Lennox back in the day. She also could have bench-pressed a grand piano. The tallest guy looked like he could have been Captain America’s stunt double, if he’d stop working out for a few months to tone down his physique.

  But it was the second guy who caught my attention. Wavy dark hair that would have curled if he grew it out. Faint stubble on his cheeks, eyes that seemed to change color with the light, and a body built for the ages. He was smiling at me, and I knew he’d been the one who’d spoken.

  Our eyes locked, and so help me, my heart gave a little thump and I got hit with déjà vu. I’d never seen him before in my life, but he seemed so familiar. I wanted to say, �
��So, there you are! It’s been lonely, but now I’ve found you.” Thoughts of all the trouble we could get ourselves into flashed through my head with the weirdest sense of joy and sadness. Bittersweet.

  Crazy thing was, I knew he felt it, too. I saw that same moment of recognition in his eyes, and something else. Sadness? Regret? Unbecoming in a Sekutar warrior. We regret nothing.

  It was a shame I’d have to kill him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I twirled my sword. “So are you guys it for Sekutar 2.0?” Where is everybody? Back in my day, this room was always busy.”

  The hottie in the middle spoke. “Well, we were all in a meeting getting updated on the new software. New management and they gotta change everything. I was bored. To. Death when the alarm went off, so thanks for that.” He chose a battle axe, and the other two casually chose weapons from the wall as well. The woman picked out something that looked like a modern morning star – a ball with spikes on a chain hanging from a handle. My man grabbed a katana like mine.

  This was going to be fun.

  The woman gave her morning star a practice twirl. “Dibs,” she said, like I was the last piece of birthday cake.

  “You got to go first last time, Conn,” said the taller guy. The axe made a high-pitched sound as it sliced through the air straight at my head. I easily dodged it. The axe embedded itself in the wall cutting a sword in half.

  My guy spoke. “You have no stinking manners, Ajax. It’s always ladies first. Besides, I like to watch two women going at it.”

  “Shut up, Brand.” Ajax pulled another axe down. He decided not to throw this one.

  I did a series of flips forward to bridge the distance. “What the hell is up with how DGI names their people? Ajax, Brand and Conn, seriously? A, B and C? Where are D through Z?”

  Brand grinned. “We only go to P.”

  “Restroom is down the hall on the left,” I said.

  “Brand, shut the hell up,” Conn said. “You’re stupid and you talk too much.” She swung her morning star. I was well out of range, or so I thought. She cast the handle like a fishing pole and another three feet of chain shot out. Great, magically-enhanced weapons, too. Sure, why not?