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Part 6-1: Variables
“What in the hell do we do then?” said Fergus, referring to my little sister Maive, who’d appeared on my doorstep a moment ago. We’d also recently learned that a shadow agency was closing in on myself and Deluxe any minute now. Classic sister, being as inconvenient as humanly possible.
“Let me, uh, let me check my phone,” I said, assuming I’d missed three thousand texts from her while busy saving lives and thwarting ghouls.
The condo buzzer blared again as I found my cell, which puzzlingly had no communications from her. I assumed her phone was dead.
“If we leave her out there, she might go away, or she might camp out all night,” I said. “I assume she’s not popping by for a quick hello though.” Not her style, plus she would have called, plus she had a big ole duffel bag with her. She might even be in trouble.
“Can she house sit, perhaps?” asked Deluxe. “I don’t like leaving the critters with a stranger, but I like leaving them alone even less. And it lets us bring Fergus with us if we wanted to try for the fourth book.”
There was too much to think about, too many variables. And as much as my sister pissed me off, something instinctual rebelled against turning her away. Deluxe’s plan seemed as good as any.
“Yeah. Maybe. Shit. I’ll let her up then,” I said, and keyed up the app that did so. We watched on the TV screen as she huffed and rolled her eyes as the door finally buzzed at her. She gathered her crap and strode in.
“And what’s our cover story?” said Fergus. “What do we tell her, about anything?”
“I still need about an hour to configure remote systems for the Lotus,” said Deluxe. “Advise that you keep her as distant from being implicated as possible.” She flipped on her headset and disappeared to her room.
“You hide too, go with her,” I told Fergus, trying to simplify. His strange inability-to-see-faces thing would make things even weirder. “You’re Deluxe’s boyfriend for this charade, tell her as such!” I added, impressed with my ability to improvise under threat of sisterly judgment.
“But what if she says no Alena! My heart can’t take it,” he complained, but as I rounded on him to snap, I found he was already halfway down the hall, chuckling.
“Okay, okay. It’s just me, two dozen animals, and a bratty pint sized Mayflower. You can do it,” I said to myself. As if to punctuate, three sharp knocks rapped from the front door. A caw, several scampers, and a series of barks answered it back. I imagined Maive’s recoiling expression—it gave me a pinch of gusto and lifted my spirits a notch, enough to walk over and swing the door open with a big grin.
“Alena!” she said, and dropped her bag.
“Holy shit kid, what brings you to town?”
And instead of an avalanche of sass and lecture for keeping her waiting outside for an atrocious five whole minutes, Maive burst into tears and flung herself into my arms.
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