Vin's Rules (Outer Settlement Agency) Read Free Page A

storms kinda require it. Or do you not agree with my coarse assessment?”
    “We stand in a whirlwind of fecal matter, yes.”
    His chest rumbled with low laughter, and he cracked his neck. “Weird, ain’t it? No one left in a hurry. There aren’t any scattered remains or half-eaten food bits.”
    “Chairs are stacked on the side,” she added. “If we get to the next building over and find the same thing, that all but guarantees that these people left on their own accord.”
    He tsk-tsked her. “Remember, we only know things we see with our own eyes. We know they abandoned this place. We know the leaving was planned. There’s nothing here to assure us that it was willing. Hey, look up there in the corner. What’s that?”
    A pearly sheet twinkled against the artificial light of her omnitablet. It draped from the ceiling, creeping toward the metallic floor like an upturned and clawed hand. She took a picture, not at all sure what she’d captured. Their heads knocked together as they viewed the image. “What do you make of it, Vin?”
    While he studied the picture, she stepped back and crossed her arms, running hands down her prickling arms. Odd wasn’t the word. Yet, she tried to stay logical and ignore the feeling of dread that ran like ice down her back. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Like you said, we don’t know anything until we see it. Maybe we’ll walk across the street and find we’re completely wrong.”
    They were completely right.
    At least, right in that some generally screwed-up crap had gone down. Every building was the same. Perfect. Neat. Orderly. Chairs to the side with most tables upright.
    That didn’t mesh well with the broken windows...
    ...or the gleaming samite sheets that adorned some of the ceilings.
    They’d reached the end of the block and she stepped into the road to cross the street. Vin caught her by the collar and gently pulled back. “I don’t think we need to get any farther away from the cyclerover. I’m not saying I’m scared, but...”
    His voice had the joking lilt to it again, but this place seemed to suck a little of the honesty right out of it.  Something had shaken him. Her father called it an agent’s sixth sense—feeling danger before it reared its head.
    Vin backtracked to their machine, but she kept catching him looking over his shoulder. He helped her onto the cyclerover then nudged her forward to the driver’s seat.
    “What’s this?”
    “Are you as good as driving these as fixing them, Allie?”
    “The best.”
    He took out his weapon and checked the charge. “If something goes down, I need my hands free.”
    “That sounds like we’re not going back yet.”
    He raised his arm, pointing over her shoulder. The road bent ahead, hooking to the left. “We’ve gotta know what’s around that corner. Back us in. Keep facing outward. If anything goes sideways, gun us out of here.”
    Allie eased the cyclerover into reverse, her eyes scanning ahead of her the whole time. She checked the rearview mirrors too.
    Vin had two weapons now, one in each hand. His jaw was so clenched it could cut wire.
    Then he swore a little.
    Then a lot.
    A whole lot.
    A second later, she’d backed up enough to see the reasoning of his flowery language and was compelled to agree. “Fuck.”
    “My sentiments exactly, Allie.”
    Down the end of another long street was a stockade of sorts. Steel plates separated the rest of the town from... well... whatever that big edifice was. “What kind of—”
    “Judging from the very angry men on the roof with their weapons pointed at us, I’m gonna say it’s a fort.”
    “Time to go.” She fussed with the controls and plotted a course back the way they came.
    Vin’s hand pulsed on her shoulder. “No point. We’re in range, and good money says they knew about us before we knew about them. Remember the coordinates, then delete them. Now, Allie. Do it now,” he whispered.
    “But—”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you