The Traz

By Eileen Schuh

Katrina is thirteen, grieving and alone. But she’s much more than that. She’s intelligent, wealthy and intrigued by the dangers of street life.

Shrug is a giant of a man with a voice of thunder and eyes of granite. He sports a tangle of tattoos, wears gang colours and straddles a Harley.
When he asks Katrina if she wants a ride, neither realizes her decision will haunt them both forever.

Life on The Traz biker compound is violent and horrifying and the price of belonging quickly becomes too steep. But for Katrina there is no way to escape until she meets Chad—an undercover cop with rich brown eyes, a gentle chuckle and a plan to get her safely out of the clutches of the gang. However, there’s a problem.

Someone is keeping dangerous secrets from them both.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eileen Schuh
• Release date: Mar 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9780995297548

Eileen Schuh

Eileen Schuh is excited to announce the release of Book 1 in her PROJECT W.Olf trilogy. The entire e-Series along with the paperback will be available before yearend. Wolfsinger Publications out of Colorado, U.S.A. is her SciFi publisher and has also previously released her two adult Science Fiction thrillers, SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT and DISPASSIONATE LIES.In addition to her sci-fi books, Schuh has released four novels in her ongoing BackTracker crime series that centers on biker gangs, drug dealing, murder, computer hackers, international espionage and the role of law enforcement. Books in the series include THE TRAZ, FATAL ERROR, FIREWALLS and OPERATION MAXTRACKER. Her adult crime thriller, SHADOW RIDERS, runs parallel to her BackTracker series and is partially set in an exotic South Korean locale.Her children's novel BETWEEN THE SUN AND THE RAINBOW, is a tribute to her ancestors and a gift to her grandchildren. Loosely based on her childhood growing up on a small prairie farm, the book seeks to provide a link between generations.Schuh writes psychological thrillers across genres but is perhaps best known for the surprising and satisfying endings. Whether it is travel to quantum physics’ alternate universes in SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT, a glimpse into the future of the computer in DISPASSIONATE LIES, or a look at the weird world of genetic manipulations in PROJECT W.Olf, Schuh is sure to entertain.Born Eileen Fairbrother in Tofield, Alberta, Schuh lives in Canada’s northern boreal forests and draws her inspiration from the wilderness, her grandchildren, family and friends, and her adopted community of St. Paul.All Schuh’s books are available in both eBook and paperback formats.

Book preview

DESCRIPTION

Katrina is thirteen, grieving and alone. But she’s much more than that. She’s intelligent, wealthy and intrigued by the dangers of street life.

Shrug is a giant of a man with a voice of thunder and eyes of granite. He sports a tangle of tattoos, wears gang colours and straddles a Harley.

When he asks Katrina if she wants a ride, neither realizes her decision will haunt them both forever.

Life on The Traz biker compound is violent and horrifying and the price of belonging quickly becomes too steep. But for Katrina there is no way to escape until she meets Chad—an undercover cop with rich brown eyes, a gentle chuckle and a plan to get her safely out of the clutches of the gang. However, there’s a problem.

Someone is keeping dangerous secrets from them both.

PROLOGUE

Southern Alberta prairie, September 1996

Terrified, she flattened herself against the ground, turned her ear to the wind and strained to hear the pulse of the rescue chopper. However, the only sound riding in on the autumn breeze was the faraway call of a lone coyote.

She kept her breathing shallow, afraid movement would catch the eye of a vigilant biker in the valley below, and slowly lifted her head.

In the distance, a convoy of police vehicles careened toward the compound. Within seconds it would be passing over the security sensors she’d disabled. She hoped to hell she’d done everything right. She hoped no one would get hurt. She hoped...

Six metres to her right, something flashed in the sun. She pressed her cheek back into the dirt and peered through the yellowing prairie grasses. Behind the leafless rose thorns lining the path that linked the ridge to the valley, she spotted the outline of a man lumbering toward her. She clutched a handful of plants and wound them around her fingers, tighter and tighter, until their roots broke free of the earth. If she were to be discovered, she’d claim she was collecting botanicals, something The Traz bikers all knew she did. A few of them were intelligent, but she was sure none would know the difference between the prairie grass in her hand and herbal sweet grass.

The man’s head cleared the bush and her racing heart stopped mid-beat. It was Shrug. He was scanning the ridge with an M16 slung over his shoulder. For a split second his eyes rested on the spot where she lay.

He’d seen her, and in moments he’d see the cop cars. She couldn’t breathe. He’d kill her. She’d been warned; the only way to leave a biker gang is in a body bag.

Then she felt it, movement rather than a sound. A rhythmic beating deep in the earth beneath her chest. BackTracker, Katrina mouthed as she relished the strengthening seismic response to the rotors of a distant chopper. My way out.

She closed her eyes and conjured images of her grandfather and of hope. If Shrug didn’t put a bullet through her before the chopper got here... If he didn’t shoot it down when it arrived. If...

Perhaps she had a slim chance of living to see her fifteenth birthday.

CHAPTER 1

Cambridge Bay, December 1986

How’s my girl with the sunshine curls? Dave Buckhold swung his young daughter over his head, relishing her laughter.

Daddy! Daddy! Katrina squealed. Give me a kiss!

He nuzzled his lips to her tiny ear and gave her a flurry of kisses. Beyond a doubt, Katrina was his reason for living. He eventually pried her arms from his neck and set her down. Where’s Mom?

A scowl replaced her smile. I don’t know. Katrina’s small hand reached for his.

His heart sank. What do you mean, you don’t know?

She’s somewhere.

Dave caught the hitch in her voice and once more picked her up. Katrina was four but felt like a baby in his arms. He headed down the hall, flicking on lights as he went. Tanesa? He found his wife curled on the sofa. Why are you lying here in the dark? He shook her shoulder. You have a child to look after.

Tanesa spoke without moving. She looks after herself fine.

She’s too young to look after herself! Dave hugged Katrina tighter. His wife was nothing like their daughter. Tanesa was dark, in both skin tone and mood, with none of the fine features that defined Katrina. Her straight black hair contrasted with Katrina’s amber curls and she was tall, matching him in height at five foot ten. There was a coarse beauty about her, though, and a vulnerability. At one time he’d loved both.

Aren’t you even going to say hi to me? he eventually asked.

Tanesa slowly opened her eyes. Hi.

Where’s supper?

Tanesa swung her legs over the edge of the couch and stared at her stockinged feet. Ever since my dad and you bought her that computer, all she does is sit and play on the thing. I can only stand watching that for so long. She rose and brushed past them to the kitchen. Supper’s in the oven.

What did you have for lunch? Dave whispered to Katrina.

I look after myself fine, she whispered back. Don’t fight. Please don’t fight with Mommy.

Supper started in silence except for the clink of forks against stoneware. Dave was wiping up the last of his gravy when the mantle clock struck six. As the last chime faded, Tanesa spoke. You promised me that we’d move down south once Katrina got to school age.

She’s just four. School age isn’t until six.

Four going on thirty-four, Tanesa mumbled, staring out the window.

Dave followed her gaze. If there’d been any sunlight at all, they’d have seen miles of flat white tundra spreading to the horizon. In December, though, there was no sun.

He looked back to his wife. She’s four. She needs a mother, for Christ’s sake!

Katrina dropped her fork to the table. Don’t fight, she said. Did you catch any bad guys today, Daddy? Any drunks?

Katrina! Dave frowned at her. What his daughter lacked in height, she more than made up for in intelligence. That precociousness was a source of both pride and worry for him. Since the day she’d learned to walk, it had been a challenge to keep her safe from her curiosity.

After supper I’ll play you the song I wrote on the computer using DOS. I got caught up in the programming and forgot I’d planned to go visit you, Daddy—

That’s why she needs a mother, Dave interrupted. Tanesa, would you even have noticed if she’d taken off in the dark and the fifty degrees below zero to find me?

I would’ve found you, no problem, Katrina cut in. I know where the police detachment is. I know how to get there. I’m not stupid.

No, you’re definitely not stupid. Dave sighed.

I know how to dress myself for the weather.

Four going on thirty-four, Tanesa said again, drawing her eyes from the inky sky to cast Dave a triumphant look.

Catch any bad guys? Katrina asked again.

I don’t talk about work. You know that. Dave kept his eyes on Tanesa. Are you drinking again?

Tanesa picked up her fork and mindlessly stabbed at her meal. Where would I get anything to drink up here?

Are you wanting to go south to find something to drink or for the sake of the child?

You’re not being fair! Tanesa pushed away her plate and folded her head into her arms on the table. I promised no more drinking a long time ago. Have I ever broken that promise?

What’s the matter then?

You know I’m not happy up here. She raised her head slightly to stare accusingly at her husband. If you won’t do anything about that for my sake, I’m hoping you will for your beloved daughter.

My daughter? She’s your daughter, too, although, you don’t act like she is.

Daddy! Katrina slapped his arm. Dad! We should go south. I want to see Grandpa.

Dave, you can’t deny it was you who wanted her, not me!

Grandpa promised me I could go hunting with him when I get older and I’m older now.

Tanesa, don’t say shit like that in front of her. Dave scowled at Katrina. Four isn’t old enough to go hunting.

How old is old enough?

Thirty, Dave answered. I’ll put in for a transfer.

CHAPTER 2

Calgary General Hospital, January, 1995

Within the decade, Alberta will be digitized, Grandpa Steele said.

Katrina tried to stop staring at all the tubes attached to him. The machines around his bed were hissing and beeping. In the corridor outside his room, an intercom blared and footsteps rushed by. She closed her eyes and hummed inside her head until she no longer heard the noises. She imagined she was sitting with him at his kitchen table.

Digitized? she replied.

The Alberta Supernet.

Oh, yes! Katrina’s eyes flashed open. Nothing fascinated her more than computers and the internet. You mean the fibre optic network. Did you know that when it’s finished it will link ninety-five percent of the people in this province?" Although she was only twelve, her astuteness and vocabulary would not amaze her grandfather. He knew she was clever and often talked to her about grownup things–world affairs, other universes, the nature of time. Technology.

Yes, Grandpa said. The Alberta Supernet will not only link the province together, it will link the province to the world. The internet is going to explode. Grandpa wheezed and then coughed. His coughing turned to a continuous hacking as he struggled to prop himself on his elbow. Eventually he caught his breath. Don’t ever smoke, he finally gasped. This is an unpleasant way to die.

Don’t die, Grandpa, Katrina begged. I can’t do another death.

You miss your grandmother? Grandpa Steele flopped back on his pillow and closed his eyes.

I miss her so much. Grandma Buckhold loved me.

Your other grandma did, too, you know. I suppose you don’t remember much about Nana Steele. You were pretty young when she died.

She didn’t like me, Grandpa. I remember.

Grandpa smiled. You’re wrong, little Katrina. She liked you.

She thought I was strange.

People can like ‘strange’.

I think she was scared of me. She’d always ship me off to the other room. But Grandma Buckhold spent lots of time with me. She taught me meditation and yoga and all about mushrooms and how to cook cattail roots and stuff.

Good. That means she left a lot of herself here when she passed on. Remember what she taught you.

You taught me lots, too, Grandpa. I know how to track and kill deer. And I know all about computers.

That’s something we need to talk about. Grandpa slowly opened his eyes and motioned to the drawer of his side table. There’s an envelope with your name on it in there.

Katrina opened the drawer, pulled out the long white envelope, and held it to the light. What’s in it?

I invested in computer technology back in the eighties when pcs first came on the market.

I remember. You bought me my first computer when I was in Cambridge Bay. I learned DOS. Taught myself how the thing worked. Learned to programme. Wrote music with it.

You know computers inside and out, Grandpa said.

You and Dad always made sure I had the latest in technology. Even though Microsoft with its Windows system is now making computers that even idiots can use, I can still do things with a computer that nobody else can. Dad says I don’t look through Windows, I see inside them and not many people can do that.

Grandpa chuckled. Your dad’s right. Computers were the first wave of the technological revolution. The internet will be the next big wave. I still have some money invested in the internet but I cashed in my computer company stocks. He nodded at the envelope. That money is for you. Use it wisely. Become a computer guru. Travel the world. Keep up to date. Invent. Use your genius to make the world a better place.

I know how to surf the internet, Katrina said. I talk to people on ICQ and can even ask physicists questions on the MSN science forums. I know how to– She stopped abruptly. Her grandpa probably did not want to know that she could invade others’ computers. How to connect with people, she added lamely.

Grandpa’s eyes closed and his breathing deepened. Always leave yourself a way out, he said dreamily. Don’t get in too deep, little Katrina. Know how to back track.

Back track? Katrina stared at the envelope in her hand. Does he know where I’ve been? What I’ve been doing?

Don’t get trapped by your curiosity.

I won’t. I’m working on ways to...escape. I’ll call it BackTracker! She was designing a program that would conceal her digital activities from those who might be interested—like the police and the Pentagon.

Katrina ripped open the envelope and stared at the bank draft in her hand. Is this right? she asked. Fifty thousand dollars? For me?

For you, Grandpa said. Take that draft to my bank on one hundred and ninth Street. They are expecting you. Open an account and keep it safe for your future.

Does Mom know about this?

No, but your dad does. Your mom will get her share. I just don’t want her to get yours, too. It will be out of her reach this way. Your dad agrees.

She’s drinking again. Katrina was surprised at how much the words hurt. She hadn’t thought she cared much what her mother did.

I know.

Maybe don’t give her money, she’ll drink more.

I’ve asked her to name a charity. Instead of giving her money directly, I’ll make a donation in her name, suggesting that in return the organization can give your mother a role to play. Perhaps getting her involved in something will help her...escape...her demons.

Grandpa sighed and then shuddered and stilled.

Katrina counted to ten and when she still didn’t see his chest rise, she slipped from her chair and grabbed his arm. Grandpa! Grandpa! Are you sleeping or are you dying?

Grandpa opened his eyes a slit and smiled. I’m just tired. You go now. Let me rest. Take your cheque to the bank and ask to see Susan. She’s expecting you.

Katrina pulled the chair to the bedside, clambered up on it, and threw her head onto her grandfather’s chest. His cold, frail hand stroked her arm and then her hair. Beneath her ear, his heartbeat slowed and his lungs hummed and railed.

Tomorrow, he whispered. Come back and see me tomorrow. I’ll still be here. I promise.

CHAPTER 3

Calgary, April 1995