Page 23 of Outfoxed

Bounty hunters, crazy Mongolian marital artists. Both would challenge me, and fool that I was, I’d bite on the bait and see what life had to offer. I’d choose how I went out, and damn it, I wouldn’t give up just because the odds were against me.

As always, I left last, tidying after the students, cleaning what they missed on their pass of the studio, and making sure Batbayar hadn’t forgotten anything important on his way out the door. He hadn’t. I did an extra pass before locking up the martial arts center.

Anna still lurked in the shadows, and after the beating I’d endured, running would be an interesting adventure. But running until I could shift into a fox and make my escape into the maintenance tunnels was my best bet. She watched, her body tense, waiting for my move.

If she caught me, I’d be fucked with a stick. Flattening my ears, I gave a flick of my tail to sass the bounty hunter before diving straight into a sprint.

The woman cursed, and the slap of her boots on the asphalt indicated she wanted to play. I bet she thought her long legs would help her.

They might, but I’d been outfoxing Mother Nature since the day I’d entered the Alley, and a fast fox lived longer. A fast fox who could run miles without quitting lived a lot longer. With a storm due to hit and the sky already bitching and growling at us, I figured Anna would give up pursuit to take shelter.

It might mean I’d have to dance with death again to make my escape, but shit happened every day in Tulsa, and only a fool expected anything else.

Saturday, May 2, 2043.

Tulsa, Oklahoma.

The Alley.

Mother Nature must have had a date somewhere else, as she was late for her appointment to try to kill us by an entire half an hour. Nothing made for more of a shit night than running around Tulsa with a giant of a woman hot on my heels. Unlike my run with Sandro, I wouldn’t be inviting Anna into any of my bolt holes.

She ran with a gun out, and while she hadn’t fired any shots, I had a healthy dislike for firearms. For all I knew, the weapon could be a tranquilizer gun. With a storm headed our way, most had their power off to limit the odds of a fire starting. Most flipped their breakers and waited for death to come calling in the dark.

Only a lack of funds kept everyone in Tulsa from turning into raging alcoholics. I understood the lure. Why not get drunk when death could pay a personal visit every night during storm season? After my run, I’d want a stiff drink, but Brent disliked when his waitresses drank. It led to problems with the patrons.

Maybe he’d make an exception if I told him about the bounty on my head. On the other hand, he might join those out to make a quick buck. My payout could change lives—and buy a way into Asylum.

I cursed the asshole who’d filed for my bounty, wished Mother Nature would pay them a visit, and headed for the outskirts of the city to raise my chances of making my escape. Someone needed to cut Anna’s legs off at the knees to even the odds. She’d nipped at my heels a few more times than I liked. Bouncing off alley walls helped keep me out of her hands, and darting through small spaces bought me the seconds needed to keep her from catching—or shooting—me.

I really didn’t want her to shoot me. I couldn’t afford the bill, and unlike other places in the not-so-United States, doctors weren’t required to treat those who couldn’t pay up front.

How Tulsa didn’t have more corpses littering its streets, I really didn’t know.

“Will you just stop?” Anna complained.

I cut another corner, scrambled over a dumpster eating away at the alley’s limited space, and almost landed on a corpse. Lightning cracked across the sky, offering enough illumination to identify the victim as a man who’d crossed someone with a gun.

Huh. Usually Mother Nature got the kills, and I wondered if he’d crossed Anna. Few bothered with guns anymore between the expense, the legalities, and our lethal weather. Why kill anyone when waiting for the next storm might do the job without a potential prison sentence? The stench promised he’d spent a few days under the sun.

Any other day of the week, I might’ve stopped to check his body, but I resumed my sprint, searching for a place I could ditch my pursuer. I’d already had my fill of firearms, Anna carried one, and I didn’t want to share the poor bastard’s fate.

Anna yelped, and something squished. Grimacing at the thought of the big woman making a close acquaintance with a dead body, I took advantage of the moment, turned the corner, and dove for yet another debris-strewn alley.

Perfect.

I climbed over another dumpster, gave a courtesy check for more corpses, and dropped down when it seemed clear. Shifting in a hurry hurt like hell, exhausted me, and would make the rest of my night a misery, but it beat capture. Grateful my possessions transformed with me, I shook out my fur and crawled under the dumpster to wait for Anna to catch up and pass me. The refuse would help hide my bright fur, and I prayed Mother Nature would hold off on trying to kill us for the twenty extra minutes I needed to ditch my unwanted company and find the nearest access point for the maintenance tunnels and my new cellar home.

As expected, Anna followed, and she cursed me for being clever and slippery. She also cursed the corpse she’d fallen onto, and I shuddered at the thought of wearing some dead guy as an accessory. I almost huffed my amusement at her vulgar descriptions of how she’d rather wear her men.

She took care going over my dumpster, and without slowing, she kept going, heading for where the alley opened to a major street. Keeping still tested my patience but being too hasty could cost me everything.

Anna was a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid, and she had good reason to do a double take if she saw a fox where she expected me. Magic made strange things happen, and people wanted vixens who could fully shift.

As long as I protected my secret, I would be fine, but the instant someone saw a fox where a woman should have been, it would be game over. While there were a lot of stupid people in the world, a single assumption—a correct one—would remove any hope of maintaining my freedom.

No one could catch sight of me as a fox.

Anna halted in the intersection, still cursing while lightning danced across the sky. The low rumble of the storm kicking into full gear decided her; all predators were prey to Mother Nature, and she wisely chose to pay attention to the weather’s dire warnings.