Page 48 of Outfoxed

Scavenging through the ruins might get me killed, but it would be worth the risk if I could learn more about what was happening in Tulsa. I doubted I’d learn why, unless my magic decided to give me a view of the past showcasing those behind the unnatural behavior of the storms.

I could accept if Mother Nature wanted to wipe us out.

People manipulating Mother Nature to wipe us out was another matter entirely, and I refused to go down without a fight. Maybe my moral compass needed adjustment, but I could accept life enslaved if it meant I could guarantee the life and liberty of many others.

Maybe I’d grown up in Buffalo, but Tulsa was my home.

On my way deeper into the city, I checked the envelope. I’d never had a check in my name from an Asylum official before, with the memo stating the payment was to cover employee costs of a new resident.

The memo comforted me. It mean they’d take care of Batbayar, and he’d be safe from the storms. It gave me hope Brent would be taken care of, too. He deserved it. Most in Tulsa deserved it, but I understood the limitations of Asylum.

It could only hold so many people. The same applied with the tiny cellars. They could only hold so many people with any expectation of survival. Mine, ventilated with fresh water and sewer access, could hold three or four safely, and it would be a tight squeeze.

Maybe, as thanks for the provision contract, I’d get a copy of my keys cut for Sandro and allow him to make use of my cellar when he needed to dodge out from Asylum’s watchful gaze.

My bank, one of three institutions brave enough to keep operating despite the risks, had its main headquarters in the center of Tulsa. While there were small branches scattered here and there, the main branch would treat me more seriously—and they’d consider my new Asylum pass, since they were next door to one of the official entrances. If they gave me a problem with the check, help was a trip to the guards later.

Trouble seemed to find me on the front steps of buildings. Anna Greene regarded me with a disinterested stare, came my way, bumped into me while cursing about pesky vixens always in the way, and slipped a note into my hand before heading off on her way. Anyone watching would have assumed the big black woman had it out for tiny hybrids like me, and to play to her game, I flattened my ears and tucked my tail, the universal sign the woman had put me in my place.

Their eyes lied to them.

Anna Greene wanted to talk to me, and I wondered why. Her note went into my pocket to investigate later, as it would draw attention if I were to react in any other way.

I headed into the bank, danced with the teller about an Asylum-issued check, which resulted in the bank manager confirming how I, a hybrid who lacked the pretty clothes of the typical Asylum residents, might possibly have a pass and a legitimate reason to be paid. The Asylum guards took one look at my pass, checked it activated the magnetic locks onto the Asylum entry, which it did, and suggested the manager give me my money.

The man turned a rather ghastly shade, hurrying back to the bank without a word to me. Sighing over the sheer idiocy of the man, I followed.

Within ten minutes, I left with my cash, enough to get me through the next few weeks.

Not needing to pay the rent helped with that.

To better disguise my activities, I went to one of the last standing libraries left in Tulsa located several blocks away. While Mansfield and his heavy-handed method of managing Asylum annoyed me, I needed to give him credit: he’d moved an entire library and its librarians into the place when he’d opened it for residents. Each time he allowed new residents in, yet another library and its caretakers vanished into the sanctuary.

The way I figured, there would be one librarian per ten residents at the rate he scooped them up, and there’d be more books than anyone knew what to do with. Would my pass give me access to the library down there?

I hoped so. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a book.

Few made use of the library, and since the last time I’d been there, most of the books had been removed, leaving a barebones reference section and a few classics on the shelves. The computers still remained, which drew people in. I waited my turn for one, grabbing a random book to pass the time and hide my true purpose.

Anna’s note informed me there was a large bounty out for my living head, and that she wanted me to meet her at an Inner Tulsa bar in the evening. At eleven, the storms would still be rolling through, and only the brave or foolish ventured out. I respected her courage but also worried over her ploy.

Did she have a death wish? I didn’t, but I could ride the storms out in the library before heading over to the bar—and the place served food, too. Harper’s stayed open even during the storms, as the owner liked to believe his thick stone walls would protect him from a bad blow. As usual, I kept my doubt to myself, as it wouldn’t do me any good to complain about somebody else’s choices.

Anna’s plan would protect me, as the other bounty hunters wouldn’t dare to emerge during a storm to collect my bounty. Earning my bounty did them no good if they ended up in the grave because of it.

As my magic tended to have a mind of its own, I hesitated before resting my fingertips on the paper and concentrating on the little I knew about Anna Greene.

My magic deemed the note important enough to give me a hefty dose of unease and worry along with an odd sense the woman was running out of time. The sense of time running out bothered me more than the worry and unease.

Most in Tulsa dealt with an unfortunate amount of worry and unease.

I missed something, something my magic refused to tell me, which served to worry me even more. What I missed would remain a mystery, likely until I had a chance to talk to Anna and find out why she wanted to have a talk with me rather than take me down for the bounty, which would get her an easy ticket out of the Alley.

What the hell was going on, and how had I gotten into the middle of it?

Monday, May 4, 2043.

Tulsa, Oklahoma.