Coyote: The Outlander (with FREE second screen experience) by Chantal Noordeloos

woods? I assume it’s no social visit to try my chicken stew?”
    “I need a weapon, Sunshine,” Coyote answered through her mouthful of food.
    “That’s what I figured.”
    Coyote shook her head and wiped the grease from her lips. “Not just any weapon. I need a particle beam gun.” Her eyes held Sunshine’s for a few seconds, and the older woman smacked her lips.
    “I’m sorry, I can’t help you, girl.” Sunshine shook her head. “I’ve never even heard of one of those.”
    Coyote pursed her mouth, unable to hide her disappointment. “I thought you knew everything, Sunshine.”
    “Apparently, I don’t.” The old woman scratched her chin and leaned back on her chair. “I’d be interested to see it, if you do manage to get one. I don’t know if you plan on buying it, but when you’re done, come give me a call. I’ll gladly take it off your hands. Maybe trade you?” A greedy glint sparkled in Sunshine’s eye, but her face was still a mask of discontent.
    “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “Is that all you came for?” Sunshine raised her eyebrows, placing her hands on her stomach.
    “That and the stew . . . ” Coyote squinted at her, trying to figure out what the woman was getting at.
    “So you’ve not come to ask me about the rip?” The old woman almost smiled then, and the corner of her mouth twitched.
    “The rip?” The subject surprised her, and apparently she wasn’t the only one, because Caesar stopped eating, his spoon raised halfway to his lips.
    “Oh, yes . . . ,” Sunshine said with a mysterious air, “I thought you wanted to know about the rip that keeps opening in the same place.”
    “I’ve never heard of a rip opening in the same place.” Coyote leaned forward, the stew forgotten, all her attention focused on what her old friend had to say.
    “Oh, the rips are mysterious things, my dear.” Sunshine grabbed a pipe from an ornate green box and placed it between her lips. “There are different types of rips. Some stay open forever, creating a doorway between this world and the one that lies beyond. Some lead to more than just one world too, those we call portal rips.” She stuffed the pipe and lit it, a strong scent of sweet tobacco escaping from the smoke.
    “I think Pinkerton mentioned a portal rip.” Coyote scratched her nose and tried to remember the last conversation she had. “I’ve never spent too much time trying to find out about them. The Pinkertons are pretty tight lipped when it comes to the rips. I’ve spent too much time focusing on what sort of weapons I need to kill Outlanders.”
    “Your father only taught you about the hunting, girl.” Sunshine winked at her. “It’s about time you open your eyes a bit more. Pinkertons ain’t gonna help you. They like to keep their secrets, even from those they work with. Make you figure it out for yourself, that’s what they do. Most folks don’t know jack. Though in all fairness, Phillip and I know a little about the rips—probably more than anyone else I’ve met—but still not enough to give you clear answers.”
    “So this reoccurring rip is common then?” Coyote tried to make eye contact with Caesar, but her partner had his brown eyes fixed on Sunshine, as if he were trying to see into the older woman’s soul.
    “No, not as far as I know. The permanent rips are pretty uncommon, and I suspect they are only permanent because someone tampered with them.” She raised a graying eyebrow and peered at Coyote with her pale eyes.
    “If that’s true, then this rip you’re talking about is probably being controlled as well?” Coyote stated it as a question, and Sunshine nodded in response.
    “I would think so, my girl,” Sunshine’s lips smacked on the tip of her pipe, and little puffs of smoke escaped from the corner of her mouth. “I would think so.”
    “This is the first time I’ve heard of it. Not even Pinkerton made mention of this.” Coyote placed her spoon in the little bit of stew that