The Tales of Twisted Felix Katt (Book 1)

Puts Your Hands Up: This is a Negotiation (NaNoWriMo)

No rest for the wicked-  Book of Isaiah verses 48:22

Generally I’m an easy to please kind of girl. I’m not one for fancy clothes, expensive food or really swanky possessions. But even I turned up my nose at the place Rorick found for us to hide in. See how willing you’d be to crawl into a cistern once you’ve seen Star Wars. I don’t know about you, but just the concept that the walls could potentially crush together and turn me into Felix pancake made me break out in a case of the wiggins.  But as much as I hated being stuck in what amounted to a giant fish bowl, I really had to admit that seeing Rorick dripping wet and with his clothes molded to his body when we got out of here was probably going to be worth every moment where I was convinced that either A- the walls were starting to close in or B- I felt something brush passed my leg.

Van had caught up with us before my blood slave had decided that this was a perfectly good time to go for a swim, and the worst part was she was all for it. Then again, if I had that much blood splashed all over me, I’d want to wash it off too. I hadn’t heard her firing any of the big guns I knew she carried, so either she set of a darter or she fragged them. Either way I was pretty sure the only thing chasing us down right now was a lifetime of bad karma. Since that would be nothing new to me, I accepted my next reincarnation as a polyp and listened to hear if there were any sounds of pursuit. There were none. Feeling a little foolish hiding out in questionable water that came up to my nipples, I raised an eyebrow at Rorick. When he shook his head, I sighed. He has better hearing than I do. Too many engine backfires and explosions on my part but I make up for it by being a dead eye shot. If he can’t hear it and I can’t see it, it ain’t there. Van swam through the water, being just short enough that she could swim and not do the awkward waddle walk that Rorick and I were doing with our feet actually on the floor.

“Told you I got them all.” Van stated with pride evident in her voice.

“Of course you did. I just wanted a chance to float around and take a load off my hip.” I retorted, feeling oddly protective of Rorick’s choice of hiding place. Now you might be concerned because in our bags we had important things like firearms, explosive putty, electrical shocking devices, oh yeah, and a mostly dead guy. But this being the 41st century, Frankenstein was in a stasis bag and nothing short of a direct hit from a grenade launcher to disrupt. And the weapons were all in waterproof cases. I’m crazy, not stupid.

“Did you hear that?” Rorick interrupted Van and I before we could start snarking at each other properly. We were on our way to a full on water fight with splashing and everything and he knew it. Yes Van and I may or may not revert to five year olds whenever there was a large body of water around. Spend the bulk of your life on a sterile space ship and you’ll come to love the sight of open stretches of water as if you were a mermaid too. Hell, Rorick was sometimes as bad as we were and he knew it! Give that man a large enough bath tub and he’ll soak in it for hours, I guarantee it. Actually that was the Solstice present Van and I gave him last year and it had been more than appreciated.

“Did I hear what?” I repeated, stopped any movement so I could try and listen. My hearing isn’t all that damaged.

“Wait…. Does anyone else feel that?” Van asked, the sounds of her light swimming making a sloshing sound that filled the room and made me realize that I STILL had that bad feeling in my gut.

“Oh man, why do I have the sinking feeling tha-!” My brilliant and witty comment was cut off as all the water in the room suddenly dropped rapidly, emptying through the now huge hole in the floor. I think it was supposed to be a drainage pipe should the water levels get to high. What it felt like was the last right of a gold fish on its way to the next life. The water we were floating in shot down the tube as if we’d been spit balled out a straw. I slammed against Rorick painfully, the wound in my hip just loving this, and his fingers caught around my bag strap, refusing to let go. I wasn’t sure where Van was until I heard the unmistakable sound of raucous laughter as her head crested over the water and she screamed in pure enjoyment as the three of us rocketed through a tube with barely enough air to catch your breath in. I’m thinking that if we survive this trip down the drain, Van wouldn’t be against spending some rest and recovery time at a theme park.