The Marradith Ryder Series Part 5
Henry Smith, the night manager at LessCost, noticed the girl as soon as she walked in.
She was cute, but she was messed up.
Henry’s store was located smack in the middle of the warehouse district off Route 310. The store was open twenty-four hours a day, and night brought out all kinds. There were homeless people and druggies that frequented the many abandoned warehouses, and the city was not doing much to fix the problem. Sometimes they came in, and there were regulars that begged for the last scraps from the café inside the store. Those he did not mind.
But he’d also gotten robbed twice, so he kept a keen eye out.
The girl wandered the aisles in a daze. And she was dripping wet. She wore a black t-shirt with the words LINKIN PARK - JAY Z emblazoned across her chest in white. She wore black jeans. Not designer, but not cheap. She was barefoot, but her toes were done. She wore a toe ring on her left foot. Droplets of water fell from her hair, a soppy, thick mess of dark ringlets.
He was willing to bet dollars to donuts she wasn’t homeless; despite the fact that she was wet, she was too well kept. And probably not a drug addict; they would not let themselves get soaked like that for fear of losing any dust from old drug hits lingering in their pockets.
He approached her carefully, and when he got close up he realized that she was just a kid.
“Can I help you, Miss?” he asked.
Marradith looked up at him, shivering. “Yes, please. My Mom always comes here…but I don’t know where anything is . Which section do you have your clothes in?”
“Aisle twelve.”
He retreated, but watched as she quickly made her selection. She had a nearly full cart by the time she reached the counter: jeans, two pairs each, male and female. Three packets of t-shirts. New sneakers, his and hers. A back pack, duffel, and two army blankets.
Henry rang her up, watching with a lifted eyebrow. Finally he could not help but comment. “Excuse me for asking, but are you alright? You look like you took a dip in the river.”
Marradith smiled tightly. “How much do I owe you?”
“One hundred forty even.”
She pulled a stack of twenties from her jeans pocket without complaint. Henry chuckled when she placed them in his hands. The bills were soggy.
“Sorry,” she shrugged, embarrassed.
“No worries,” he said, bagging her items.
Marradith reached in her other pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “Well I bet this will never work again,” she said, and tossed it into the trash can.
As Henry finished with her bag, he added a stack of towels. “No extra charge,” he said kindly. “Since your Mom is a customer and all.”
She thanked him and hurried away into the parking lot, where she blended into the shadows and was lost from view by the surveillance cameras.
***
The back door of the warehouse was open, just a crack, and Marradith was able to push it far enough to squeeze through. There was a glow of candlelight further in the distance.
“Justin?” she said as she eased the door closed behind her.
“Ryder, don’t turn around.” He was standing behind her. She stretched her arm out, handing him the bag.
“It must be irritating, destroying your clothes every time you Change.” she said.
He snorted. “Not one of the conveniences.” She heard him zip up the jeans. “These are nice. Perfect fit.”
Marradith turned around. “Yeah, I could tell by the way you fit Scott’s pair.
I’m keeping a running tab. When this is over, you’re buying him new jeans.”
“Fair enough.”
She snatched the bag from him and retreated into a corner behind a large box. Quickly, she changed out of her wet clothes. The warehouse was cold, but Justin had found an old mattress and a flashlight, along with some half melted candles. “Remnants from the last unwanted tenants,” he’d explained. “Make sure you get your shoes on,” he added. “I’m sure there’s needles on this floor.”
“I guess I should thank you,” she said, “For getting me out the water.”
“No. It’s my job.”
Marradith was silent for a moment. Should she feel rebuffed by his answer? There were two ways to take it, she decided: Don’t thank me for saving your life, it’s my job and I’d do it for anybody, or, Don’t thank me, because you’ve got no idea how much trouble we’re still in.
Neither possibility boded well.
“Who are the werewolves that are after us?” she asked.
“They’re part of an organization called The Circle. Not all of them are Wolves; some are Immortals, vampires, witches or Shifters. They share a common goal: as much power as they can get and anonymity from humans. They‘re in all sectors, and some are even in government.”
“So what do they want with me?”
“There are others like you - but there aren’t many. It takes someone with werewolf blood to track a Wolf. They consider that a threat. And add to that, the fact that you have a vampire link. I am sure you have some latent - or not latent abilities - from that side as well.”
Marradith sat down on the mattress. “So you come from another group?”
“My people are The Sojourners. We were actually a part of The Circle in the very beginning, before it turned corrupt. Now we protect people, human or otherwise, that may be targets of The Circle. We track bloodlines, genealogy. We are the Law. We destroy those that interfere too much with humans, or in some way draw attention to our existence. This is where you can be of use to us. You can track Wolves but you will never become one. To a Wolf, you smell human. You’re a weapon in disguise.”
___
© 2009 Lori Titus
Lori Titus’s The Marradith Ryder Series appears in episodes on Flashes in the Dark. Many of her short stories appear on MicroHorror.com, DemonMinds.com, and Shadeworks.org. An upcoming story will also be featured as a pod cast on SFZine.org. For more information see her at http://www.myspace.com/talesforthedark.
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March 8th, 2009 at 10:51 am
Another great update - this is a wonderful story!
March 8th, 2009 at 9:44 pm
Thanks Bob…
June 16th, 2010 at 12:20 pm
Well at least they are both dry now and she gets an answer as to why her. Being able to track them would give her an edge, looks like she is going to need it before long.