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A Woman of the Swamp
Armed and Dangerous

Armed and Dangerous

7. Armed and Dangerous

Marie looked around the brightly lit room in a mixture of horror and awe. Weapons hung in neat rows from floor to ceiling, ranging from medieval to modern. Among the recognizable implements of death were plenty of baubles and strange objects that she didn’t recognize. “To think I spent my life looking at relics, and I still don’t know what half this shit is.” Marie had the odd feeling that she was standing in a museum for a war that hadn’t been fought yet.

Shirley picked up a short rifle off the wall and walked over to an open crate. “We’ve been prepared for vampires since the organization’s inception. We might not be as old as Nick’s order, but we respect the past.” She screwed a small black box to the side of the gun and pushed a button. A green laser shone across the room, painting a tight dot on the opposing wall.

Marie remembered how the lasers looked when they were on Ray’s chest, and the aftermath. “I hate to be the one to spoil the party—”

“But this didn’t exactly go well the last time we tried, I know.” Shirley continued to fumble with attachments, clipping them anywhere and everywhere. “Two things are different. One, I’ve got you watching my back this time.”

Marie smiled nervously. “I might be watching your back, but I’m all out of ideas.” She had a feeling that all the guns in the world wouldn’t make a bit of difference. The Baron had been around a long time and wasn’t going anywhere soon.

“You didn’t let me get to my second point.” Shirley slung the rifle over her shoulder and went over to a section of the wall covered in knives. “They’ve got one of ours. There was a time a long time ago when Nick risked his life for mine. He could have left me to die, but he didn’t, and while things might have ended up badly, he tried. I owe it to him to do the same.” She took out a series of throwing knives and stored them in loops around her thigh. “You don’t have to come with, but something tells me revenge against The Baron is enough motivation to try something stupid.”

It was. The thought of bringing the fight to the smug prick’s face, even if it would ultimately end in a futile death brought a smile to her face. “Right, so we’re rigging for undead, anything else I should know about?”

Shirley chuckled. “If I learned one thing from Nick, it’s that you take anything and everything you can carry. We’ve got silver bullets with hollow-point, holy water tips, and a few symbols of faith to be on the safe side.” Shirley rooted around in a box and dug out several pieces of metal iconography on chains and tossed them to Marie.

Marie was surprised by the weight but caught them. One chain bore a Star of David, a cross, and an image of The Virgin Mary all strung on worn rosary beads. In the other was an amalgam of symbols she didn’t recognize. “This actually works?” Many of the holy symbols conflicted with one another and the clatter as they rang together was apt to start a holy war.

“If it doesn’t, they might be enough to confuse your enemy for a minute.” Shirley donned a necklace of her own and zipped up a tactical vest over it. “Plus, there’s a one in a million shot that one of these suckers stops a bullet.”

Marie shrugged and hung the chain around her neck. The weight of the metal felt like purpose. She eyed the weapons on the walls, wondering what would be the most useful for killing a minor god.

Seeing her perplexed gaze, Shirley cut in. “Take whatever you think you can fire the fastest without hitting yourself in the face. Some of these…” She motioned to a series of revolvers that could have swallowed Marie’s forearm in the barrel. “Would break your arm clean in two. The men and women who use them train for months, and even they have accidents. Besides, they’re more for compensation than anything else.”

Marie walked to the wall and settled on a pair of plain looking pistols and six clips of extra ammunition. Compared to the other weapons, they were mundane, but Marie knew where the safety, trigger and clip release were. In a fight, that was all that mattered. She spared a longing glance at a harpoon rifle hanging in the corner, but thought better of it. Too flashy, agreed the voice.

Shirley continued picking guns off the wall until she looked like the byproduct of a particularly strong magnet at a screening checkpoint. “You ready? Because I haven’t even shown you the best part.”

Marie grabbed two round balls that might have been grenades and put them hastily in her jacket pockets. Her face flushed, but Shirley didn’t say anything to correct the action. “I’m not sure there is a best part to any of this, but sure, what’s next?”

Shirley motioned for Marie to follow and pressed a panel on one of the gun walls. It slid backward, revealing a brightly lit stone tunnel. They walked down it for a few minutes until they came to another door with a flashing green keypad . Shirley pressed her palm to the glowing surface which turned red.

“And here I thought that shit was only for the spy movies.”

Shirley smiled. “Where do you think the spy movies got it?”

The door opened revealing a garage with long fluorescent lights running down the length of the ceiling. Beneath them were a cadre of jet-black cars of all different shapes in sizes. At the far end, she caught side of a Model T with twin mounted gatling guns on the front. Two bucket seats sat behind them for the gunners who would have had to crank the ancient death machines to fire. Closer to them were sleek vehicles with glossy paint that would have been at home in a sci-fi movie.

“As much as it pains me to say it, we should probably take something subtle.”

“There’s one of these that’s subtle?” Marie thought any of the vehicles would have drawn attention rolling down the streets of New Orleans.

Shirley walked down the rows of cars, looking at each one with separate fondness. “A black car is statistically the least likely to get noticed in a crowd. If it’s prowling a street alone at night, sure, but turn the headlights off on these and they’re practically invisible.” Shirley stopped in front of a wide, boxy looking vehicle. “I’ve always been partial to this one.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“We’ll look like cops from the seventies.” Looking over the vehicle brought back memories of Marie’s arrest, looking up into the pale windows of the convent and seeing The Baron smile back at her. A fresh wave of rage swept through her.

“Maybe you’re right,” said Shirley, a hint of petulance in her voice. She gave a last longing look at the car and moved on. “Besides, if Nick’s transponder is right, we might want something with a little more ground clearance. Looks like they’re heading into the bayou.”

“We’d be better off with an airboat than a car if we’re going into the swamp.” What in the hell would they want with the bayou? Without a boat, it was practically unnavigable, and there were plenty of ways to die at the slightest hint of a mistake.

“These beauties have a few tricks up their sleeves, don’t worry.”

Marie thought to her house and looking out over the placid, dark swamp at night. It teemed with activity at all hours of the night.

“Alright, looks like we’re taking Tank.” Shirley slapped the hood of an angular truck that might as well have been a wheeled rhombus.

“I thought you said subtle.”

“Yeah, but then you said airboat and I got nervous. With Tank here, we could get to the moon and back in comfortable air conditioning.” Shirley pulled out a keychain and clicked a button. The car’s doors slid open vertically, revealing two semi-reclined padded seats. A miniature bar and cupholders slid out of the center console, shining in the garage’s bright lights. Two rectangular slits opened in the leading edge of the vehicle, revealing headlights that might as well have been powered by dying stars. Shirley hopped in to the driver’s seat and slid a harness across her chest. “Hot damn it feels good to be back in this thing.”

Marie approached cautiously, feeling the weight of the pistols on her hips and the grenades in her pockets. No time to get cold feet now, croaked the voice in her head. She shook her head. You know that doesn’t get rid of me, now stop it or you’ll give us all a headache. Marie slid into the passenger seat of the car. Across the dashboard, instrumentation lights blinked on. The front windshield showed the garage, but also a high contrast navigation system with information about anything and everything before them. It was chaotic, and Marie had barely made heads or tails of it when Shirley pushed a button on the center console.

A humming, grinding, whirring noise came from the bowels of the vehicle. Marie gripped the edges of her seat, wondering just how fast they were going to be making their exit. A scraping sound, like tiny icepicks being driven into the engine filled the cabin. Marie was about to ask if everything was alright when a small sphere of ice rolled out of a previously unnoticed chute and into a highball glass.

Shirley pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured a generous helping over the ice.

“I thought you didn’t drink?”

Shirley laughed. “I don’t, it’s for you. My previous performance assessment categorized my driving style as…” She paused, thinking over the next word carefully. “Let’s just say I drive fast, and you’re going to panic a lot less with that in your system.”

Marie looked at the glass, picked it up and downed it in a single gulp. She barely felt the whiskey running down her throat, but the warmth that spread after was noteworthy. “Not bad.”

“Most people would have taken hundred-year scotch slowly.” Shirley pushed another button on the console and the car hummed to life.

“Sorry,” said Marie sheepishly.

“Eh, you would have spilled it anyway.”

Before Marie could reply, the car leapt out of its spot and they were speeding down a precarious, narrow lane between rows of other black vehicles. The sheer speed pushed Marie back in her chair. They moved at suicidal speed and Marie did feel thankful for the whiskey. All at once, they shot into the night air and onto the New Orleans freeway. Marie wasn’t sure how they got there, but no one else seemed to notice the sudden intruder either.

Marie tried to focus on faraway landmarks as they careened through the city and toward its outskirts. Red alerts flashed across the entire dash, signaling sudden and mortal peril, but Shirley always avoided whatever caused them at the last second. Her maniacal grin after each close call was chilling. The world was a wash of color and fast-moving objects. Despite the sudden turns and acceleration, Marie felt comfortable. The plush seat beneath her enveloped her back, keeping her still and stable throughout the journey. It did nothing to calm her racing mind, but she supposed that was too much to ask.

When Shirley finally eased up on the gas, they were on a back country road heading through tangled clumps of mangrove trees and high water. “You alright over there?” she asked. They were the first words she spoke to Marie since leaving the garage.

Marie exhaled a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “Next time, we’re not carpooling.”

Shirley chuckled. “You sound just like my last supervising officer.”

Marie shook her head and looked out the window. “Where exactly are we going?” The dirt roads that ran by the water were labyrinthine, each leading only to a single point ending in dark water.

Shirley ran her right hand across the dashboard and pulled up a map on the passenger side of the windshield. It showed an aerial view of the bayou, large tracts of muddy water interspersed with mostly impassable forest. A red light blinked on in the center of a wide, watery clearing. “That’s where the transponder says Nick is.”

Marie’s heart sank. “There’s just water there.” The implication was clear, and the answer even more so. Whoever had taken Nick had got what they needed and dumped his body in the bayou.

“I know what it looks like, but the transponder is still moving, so there’s hope.”

Marie thought it was more likely that the transponder was inside a recently sated alligator but kept the thought to herself. One way or another, they were headed to find out the cocky monster hunter’s fate. “Even so, that’s a lot of water, and this vehicle doesn’t exactly look seaworthy.” Everything about the vehicle felt designed to sink. Maybe we’re going to crawl along the bottom.

Shirley took a hard left. Ahead, the road dead ended at calm water. “You said we needed an airboat.” She punched a button. Humming and hissing noises came from outside as a wraparound pontoon inflated.

Marie turned around and watched as a black fan rose from the trunk area of the car. “Who in the hell thought a tank needed to also be an airboat?”

Shirley shrugged. “There’s a reason the garage has so many options. When you’ve got an unlimited bank roll, it helps to be prepared.”

Marie couldn’t fault her there.

Shirley gunned it, sending the car leaping into the water. There was more whirring as the wheels receded into the hull. Behind them, the fan spun to life, making surprisingly little noise. “Now, that is impressive.”

Marie nodded. “A silent airboat could make a lot of money out here.” One of the main complaints from tourists was the noise of the fan. Most captains feigned deaf at the complaints and got bigger tips for their trouble. Ray could have used one of these. A heavy sadness settled in Marie’s chest. Tears welled at the corner of her eyes.

Shirley reached over and put a hand on Marie’s shoulder. “I can’t pretend to know exactly how you’re feeling, but I’ve got some idea. This sucks, but we’re doing the only thing we can do. One thing I promise, is that if we get out of here, coffees for the foreseeable future are on me.” She smiled, but there was an immense sadness behind it.

Marie recognized the emotion as a mirror. “Thanks, Shirley. Let’s go kick a god’s ass.”

“Yeah, let’s go kick a god’s ass.”