Page 54 of Aftermarket Afterlife

Antimony wrinkled her nose. “Don’t jump off roofs without warning me, you dick.”

“It wasn’t a roof, it was the hayloft,” he protested. “Mary, did you screw up her flashcards when she was little-little, if she can’t tell the difference between a roof and a hayloft?”

“You’re an asshole,” said Antimony blandly, but she was smiling as Sam looped his arm around her waist and tugged her back over to him.

“Your relationship dynamic is mysterious and strange to me,” I said. “Annie, do you have a current number for Megan?”

“Yeah, we’ve stayed in touch,” she said, and dug her phone out of her pocket. Then she frowned at it, and passed it to Sam, digging for a second phone. I was sure there was a reason, and she’d tell me if it was important, so I didn’t ask.

The second phone, she unlocked and dialed, raising it to her ear. “What did you want me to ask her?” she asked. “I can’t exactly lead with ‘Hey did you sell us out?’ It’s rude.”

“Ask if she’s seen anything strange, or if anyone’s been sniffing around who shouldn’t have been.”

Annie nodded, returning her attention to the ringing phone. Then she frowned, sharp and sudden. In a reasonably pleasant tone, she said, “Hey, Megan, it’s Mel. Give me a ring if you get this, okay? I’m a little worried about you.”

She lowered the phone, hitting the button to disconnect as she looked at me. “Straight to voicemail,” she said. “I’ll text, in case she’s on rounds or something and just not in a position to answer the phone.”

Most people Annie’s age default to texts. Annie, sadly for her occasional attempts to blend in with her own demographic, knows enough about computers to understand that texts can be recovered and read by people other than their intended recipient. If she wants to maintain operational security, she needs to stick with voice. Even recorded messages can be a risk.

One good thing about the Covenant knowing we’re here and declaring open hostilities: while we still need to be careful if we don’t want to lead them home, we no longer need to pretend we don’t exist. That was probably going to open some options up for the younger generations.

Annie tapped briefly away at her phone, then locked the screen and put it back into her pocket. “There,” she said. “Hopefully she calls back sooner than later.”

“And if she doesn’t?” asked Sam.

“Then we start getting really worried.” She looked at me. “I swear, Megan wouldn’t sell us out. She’s good people, and she wants to keep her community safe. And even if shedidwant to sell us out, she doesn’t know much. I was Melody for most of the time I was around her. She didn’t find out who I really was until the end.”

“But if she knows her mother is working for a Price, that makes her a useful source of information about two members of the family, even if most of her information about you is inaccurate or filtered through a cover story.”

Annie’s phone began to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket again, glaring at the screen for a moment. “Blocked number,” she said, looking back to me. “Do I answer?”

“Is that your real phone?”

She shook her head. “That’s why I used it.”

“Answer.”

She raised the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

Almost immediately, she flinched, lowered the phone, and put it on speaker.

“You killed my aunt, you worthless fucker,” she spat.

“Now, is that any way to talk to the man who’s going to marry you?” asked the carefully cultured voice of Leonard Cunningham.

“Funny,” said Sam. “She’s never calledmea worthless fucker.”

“I don’t know when you upgraded your stupid plan from ‘Bring me back into the fold’ to ‘Marry me,’ but it’s still not going to happen,” said Annie. “Even if I’d been looking to trade Sam in on a newer model, I don’t date boys who shoot my relatives. It’s a rule of mine.”

“Ah, but what about men?” countered Leonard. “Annie, be reasonable. I only shot her because she was trying to kill me. You wouldn’t want her to kill me, would you?”

“Only because having a Covenant asshole I recognize is better than the alternative,” she said. “You killing my relatives doesn’t endear you to me. How do you have this number?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern. May I assume you’ve taken your aunt’s body to her final resting place?”

“You may,” she snapped. “How did you get this number?”

“Really, Annie, you need to work on that temper of yours. The woman who was with you in the tent, I’ve seen her before. She was on television with your sister, wasn’t she? During the incident which brought your family back to our attention, with the snake god.”

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