Skye Byrn

By Drew Avera

Revenge is a dish best served with two smoking barrels.

Doing a favor for her mentor Sammy P., Skye Byrn runs in one of the usual suspects on Ter, a small time Crunkhead named Trudy, another one of Sammy's works in progress. Then a crime lord's bomb rocks the station and Skye's world will never be whole again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Drew Avera
• Release date: Jun 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386066293

Drew Avera

I am an active duty navy veteran. I'm married with two kids and I live in Virginia. My first book, Dead Planet, was released in March 2013.

Book preview

For all my friends in this industry; writers and readers alike.

1

Trudy ran for his life .

It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last; unless of course, Skye slipped up and finally put a bullet in his dense head for running away like a bitch. She had half a mind to, but what would Sammy P. think? He wasn't in the murder business and putting Trudy down probably wasn't going to rehabilitate his criminal tendencies, but it would slow him down enough for Skye to put her hands on him and at this point, her lungs were deprived enough of air for her to consider the heinous act. At least for a second. Two tops.

She swore under her breath as he broke away from her again, climbing up the stone partition between alleyways. At six feet, five inches tall, he was proportioned in a way that made athletic feats come easier than it did for Skye's mere five feet, five inches. It didn't matter; whatever advantage he had in height, she made up for in everything else. Besides, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. She looked for a clue to where she was. Chasing guys through dark, narrow corridors didn't afford her time to get her bearings.

At the top of the nearest building, a pipe with a purple maintenance flag identifying it as a fuel pipe crossed the alley and disappeared into the rock masonry. So, we're near the center of the main corridor, she thought. That means this alley intersects with one on the other side. Her mental map snapped into place and she knew exactly where she was. Climbing the wall wouldn't be necessary to snag her bounty for that day.

Skye turned left and sprinted for the next connecting shaft. She knew if she timed it right Trudy's path would intersect hers, and when it did, there would be hell to pay. She sucked in air and counted down the seconds until she could reward him for putting her through such a strenuous workout, especially on what was supposed to be her day off. No rest for the weary.

She pushed herself to run harder, knowing her shorter legs had to work twice as much to keep up with the gangly, younger man. It was going to pay off, she knew it, and it was going to happen.

Right.

About.

Now.

Skye barreled into Trudy with enough force to knock what wind was in her lungs out of them. She gasped for oxygen as his face hit the wall chin first. It was harder than she intended but certainly effective. The dull sound of his head hitting the ground turned her stomach, but experience told her Trudy would be all right. Maybe a little pissy, but he always came around eventually.

Oh, my god, you broke my fucking nose! Trudy cried from where he sprawled on the ground, his teary eyes accusing her. Skye leaned against the wall catching her breath as he slowly rose to a sitting position. That hurt, he said, stating the obvious. He already had a nasally voice, but with the gushing of blood from what was left of his nose, and the broken tooth falling from his mouth, he sounded almost pitiful.

Almost, she thought as she sucked air for her deprived lungs. She hated running. She hated chasing perps more. But she did like breaking body parts, and the amount of dental work required to fix Trudy's face might make him think twice about running from her again.

Maybe.

That's police brutality, you, bitch, he whined, holding his nose together with his fingers. Trudy had grown up on the wrong side of innocence. Maybe if he’d had a loving family, then his life wouldn't be as out of control as it currently was. But there were a lot of what-ifs in Ter, and Skye tried not to dwell on them too much.

She grabbed him behind his neck, trying to help him up without lifting him. He knew better than to fight it and slowly rose to his feet. You shouldn't have run, Trudy. You know I hate runners, she said with no regret in her voice, though her heart ached for him. A part of her thought she might have crossed the line this time, but she couldn't go soft just because she had a soft spot for the nicest thug on the rock. You go soft, you die. That's how it worked here. Besides, how can it be police brutality if I'm not a cop? You're just an ignorant piece of shit having a bad day.

I didn't know it was you, he whined.

Really? When I said, ‘Hey, Trudy, it's Skye,' and you said, shit and ran away, you had no idea it was me? She blew out a breath and ran her fingers through her hair, shoving the dark locks back behind her ear. She usually had her hair pulled back when she was on the job, but she didn't  expect to work today, nor did she think Trudy would freak out and run. She knew his paranoia was from the drugs, but it didn't piss her off any less.

No, he replied unconvincingly.

Knowing he was full of shit and not caring to win him over with her charm, or lack thereof, she scoffed Whatever. I won't cuff you, mostly because I don't want your blood to get on me, but if you run I'm going to shoot you.

He canted his head towards her, You sure you ain't a cop? I got beat like this by a cop once. You're acting kind of like a cop. You sure you ain't a cop?

Sometimes, she replied. Start walking.

Trudy took a feeble step forward, his fingers clamping his busted nose closed and hiding the tears streaming down his face. Skye didn't need to look at him to know he was crying, she heard it in his voice, despite how tough he tried to sound.

Boore, contact a local patrol car so I can run Trudy in, she said.

You need a patrol car when there’s a precinct two blocks away? Boore, her cybernetic AI implant replied. That hardly seems like a worthy reason to commandeer the assistance of law enforcement.

Boore's response caused Trudy to snicker. Skye smiled when it turned to choking because the man's blood was running down the back of his throat.

Yes. I want a patrol car because I'm tired from chasing this asshole down.

I'm sorry, but I'm not calling when you are within a reasonable walking distance of the precinct. Law enforcement officials are not your chauffeurs.

Dammit Boore, she snapped. Fine, she shoved Trudy forward and began walking. This was the hundredth time since the upgrade to Boore's interface that the AI refused an order. She had grown used to his snarky behavior, but the system seemed to have developed a personality more closely resembling an actual person than a piece of equipment designed to assist her. Bug in the system or not, sometimes she needed the sarcastic AI just to have someone to talk to. He wasn't named after her childhood imaginary friend for nothing.

You'd think with all the bounties you pull that you’d be able to afford an AI that actually works for you, Trudy said sarcastically.

Skye smirked. You'd think with all the money you get for being an informant for Sammy P. that you wouldn't get caught peddling drugs to kids every Thursday. You know, Sammy doesn't like when you mess with kids.

I wasn't selling them drugs, he replied, shaking his head in denial.

No? Skye shoved her hand into one of the cargo pockets of his pants and pulled out a wad of baggies. Crunk? You're not even selling them the good stuff.

He looked down at her. Those aren't mine. I'm holding them—

For someone else. I got it. You say that every time.

It's true, he said.

Just because your name is Trudy doesn't make what you say true. Turn here, she instructed as they made their way to Ter’s main corridor. Skye resisted the urge to put her hands on him. She would probably get written up for smashing his face into a wall and the last thing she needed was to get caught roughing him up in public.

Ter was comprised of more than a dozen main corridors making up the asteroid's colony. Each corridor was a level dug out from the rock and sealed from the vacuum of space. Each had a corresponding series of airlocks for delivery shipments, and each had their own hierarchy of the criminal sort. It was just politics with a trickling economy where the poorest had to do what was needed to survive. For people like Skye, it was complicated. Sammy P. rescued her from a life of crime but working as a bounty hunter came with certain perks that made most people turn their noses up at them. How can you uphold the law when you're a criminal yourself, they would ask? Very carefully, Sammy often replied.

So why were you looking for me? Trudy asked, breaking the awkward silence.

We have word of a new ring in town; figured you might know something about it. Sammy wanted me to question you, but I saw the Crunk and the kids, the rest is history.

So, this was supposed to be a social call?

More or less.

More, more, or less more? he asked, Skye winked. Shit.

I told you not to run.

Would it make a difference if I apologized? His question reminded her of question a child might ask. Trudy resembled a child in many ways—his staggering height was not one of them.

It might.

I'm sorry. He sounded sincere, but that meant little at this point.

Sorry, it didn't make a difference, she said.

Shit, he whined as he stepped over a puddle on the ground. What's going to happen?

Same as always, she replied. You get locked up until Sammy comes to save you. He'll have some terse words for you, try to set you on a better path, you'll do what you always do. So he’ll bail you out, and I'll probably see you again on Thursday.

That's not the only day I sell drugs to kids.

Oh, so now you admit to selling drugs to kids?

His eyes widened. Shit.

She smiled. Yep. Turn here.

Together they headed up the steep stairs leading to the precinct. It was one of the shabbier locations that made the police look like they were run on a shoestring budget. They were, of course, but this one drove the point home.

Can you tell Sammy I'm sorry?

You'll have your chance in a few hours.

I really don't want him to see me like this, Trudy said, the emotion evident in his voice. Sammy had that effect on people, making you want to be better than you really were, and ashamed each and every time you failed. Skye knew it better than most.

Look, she said, stopping him before they entered. You're not a bad guy, you're just a guy with a lot of bad in his life right now. Sammy wants to help you, but you have to let him. If that means you drop the mask and reveal just how broken you are, then that's what you need to do. Not a single one of us are in this on our own will. Sammy has a way to make you see yourself in a better light. Maybe you should let it happen this time.

You sound like him, you know? Trudy said without sarcasm.

Probably because I heard the speech a dozen or so times before I listened, she replied. Now, go in there, turn yourself in, and tell them you fell down the steps, because I don't need another write-up about abusing prisoners.

But you slammed me into the wall!

And whose fault is that?

Yours, he replied.

I told you not to run, she reminded him.

Fine, but next time I'm telling them you hit me. She thought she saw a hint of a smile as he turned to walk inside. It reminded her that he wasn't a malicious man, just another person like she used to be: broken and fighting to survive in a place where everything was harder than it needed to be.

Wait, Skye said as he opened the door. The only reason I'm letting you walk in on your own is that I trust you to do the right thing. Trust yourself when Sammy comes to see you later, all right?

Trudy nodded, turned, and disappeared as the door closed behind him.

When one door closes, another one opens, she thought staring at her reflection in the glass. I just hope the right one opens for you this time.

2

As she walked down the steps towards the main corridor, she activated her AI. Boore, call the agency and check in.

Sammy P’s, this is Artie, how can I help you?

Artie, it’s Skye.

Hey, sister, how’s the babysitting gig? She knew he was teasing her, everyone in the agency knew that when it came to Trudy, Sammy had a soft spot and often sent his people to watch after the young man. The other bounty hunters called it babysitting, but she doubted they would think of her interaction with him as babysitting. It was more akin to tough parenting.

Skye smiled. He’s going to need to see the dentist while he’s in lockup, but that should give him something to do while he’s waiting for Sammy to bail him out. She could hear Artie leaning back in his seat and the sound of heavy bootheels falling onto his flimsy, cluttered desk.

Runner huh? Artie asked. His tone suggested he wasn’t surprised by Trudy running, or Skye being overly aggressive in catching him. He was, after all, Skye’s partner when she started working for Sammy. At one point they had been more, but they found friendship to be more suited to their lifestyle than anything more. It’s better this way, she thought, at least for him.

You know it, she answered. I had to put an end to it quick.

Yeah, I know how much you like to run, too. So, what can I help you with? Artie asked, obviously trying to change the subject so he could get back to whatever it was he was doing before the phone rang. If she had to guess, he was looking at a dirty magazine, but it could have been anything. Typical Artie, she thought.

I’m just checking in. Today was supposed to be my day off, but Sammy wanted me to pay Trudy a visit. I guess he thought Trudy would respond better to me than he would one of the guys. Yeah, not so much.

Artie chortled. Last time he sent me I threatened to shoot Trudy. I haven’t had babysitting duty since.

"I slammed him into a wall and Sammy will have to pay for the dental work and the stitches to put