Page 35 of N8
The sheriff continued. “People do it all the time, learn new programs and such.”
“We’re not afraid to do menial work,” G8 informed him. “We’re not too proud to do grunt work.”
A deputy standing on the other side of the room raised a hand. “Sheriff? What about the old Trautman place? It should be big enough. And the bank’s been sitting on it for the last ten years or so. I bet these people could get it for a song.”
Cydney quickly quashed that suggestion. “We don’t have any money. At least, not enough to purchase anything.” She gave a weak little laugh. “We barely have enough to cover expenses for the next couple of months, if we pinch pennies. I had to drain my savings and checking accounts just to get us this far.”
Another knock on the door. This time the same deputy who’d interrupted earlier entered the room with a piece of paper. She handed it to the sheriff. Biggs studied it for a moment, then looked up at them. “They’ve issued wanted posters for the seven of you.” He turned the paper around for them to show them their head shots. N8 recognized Cydney’s as being the same one issued on her ID key card. “There’s no mention of a bounty,” the sheriff told them, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if there is one. They’re giving the impression you’re a bunch of dangerous lunatics.”
“Are our lives in danger?” F8 whispered.
“Not if I can help it,” the man promised. He addressed the deputy. “Get Morris Shiner on the phone for me. Now.”
The woman nodded and left. Cydney sat back down in her seat. N8 reached out to take her hand as they watched the sheriff.
“They don’t want anyone to learn of our abilities,” N8 remarked. “They’re counting on us trying to stay under the radar. They’re betting on us being too scared to do anything but run.”
“We’re not running anymore,” G8 almost growled. “Fuck them. We’ll fight back if we have to.”
Biggs snorted. “Do you know how to fire those guns you say you took off those men who found you?”
N8 glanced at Cydney, who shook her head. “No,” he confessed for all of them.
“Would you like to learn?”
T8 leaned forward in his chair. “We’re quick learners.”
“I bet you are.”
There came another knock on the door. “Mr. Shiner is on line one.”
The sheriff thanked her and walked over to the side of the room where a phone sat on a small table. He punched a blinking button, and a second one after he picked up the receiver. “Morris?”
“Yeah, Sheriff. What can I do for you?” a voice came over the speaker.
“The Trautman place. Is it still for sale?”
“Why? You interested in buying it?”
“Would you be willing to rent it out for the time being?”
“Hell, I’d be willing to do anything to get that dump off my hands. You got a prospect for me?”
“What are you willing to take for rent?”
There was a pause. “How about five hundred a month?”
“How about you take one-fifty a month? I know that place is a dump and needs lots of cleaning and repair work. If the new tenants put in the muscle to renovate it, the least you can do is give them a fucking break on the payment. Are you willing?”
“Shit, Anson. One-fifty? How about three hundred?”
“I’m not going to waste my time negotiating with you. One-fifty, or you can continue to sit on the damn property,” Biggs demanded. “You and I both know the chances of you getting that place rented are slim to nothing. This may be your only chance.”
“How about two-fifty?” Shiner suggested.
“One-fifty, and that’s our only offer, which expires in three…two…”
“All right! All right! Fuck. I’ll take the one-fifty. Who do I make the lease out to?”
