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

didn’t like talking about Outlanders to those who didn’t know about them, but Sunshine had made the right call. If the rips opened up on this man’s land at regular intervals, it was best if he knew what he was dealing with.
    “Why didn’t you send word to the Pinkertons about this?” She looked at Sunshine Mary, who spat on the ground.
    “Pah,” Sunshine said, her face wrinkling in disgust. “I don’t deal with the Pinkertons. Their bounty hunters, sure, but not with the bigwigs themselves. I don’t trust them. Wouldn’t put it beyond them to confiscate my merchandise.”
    “You realize I need to call them in, right?” Coyote hated having to pull rank on a friend. Sunshine’s face darkened, and for a moment, Coyote feared she’d angered the woman, but then Mary nodded.
    “Yeah, I thought it might come to that eventually.” Sunshine sighed. “I knew the risk when I mentioned it to you. Part of me is glad to leave this up to someone else, because we’ve been lucky so far, but who knows what could emerge from that rip?” She pointed up again, Coyote followed her finger, but the sky was still an uninterrupted blue.
    “Most likely, the Pinkertons will post someone to keep an eye out. He should be okay as long as things don’t get bad, but if they do, they might be inclined to take over your friend’s farm.”
    Sunshine shook her head. “Hank won’t like that one bit.”
    Before Coyote could respond, the corn around her rustled, and Caesar’s gentle face became visible as he pushed his way through the plants.
    “I investigated the area, but there is nothing out of the ordinary. At least nothing I can find,” he muttered.
    “It’s curious that the rips would open here . . . ,” Coyote mused, tapping her lip with a gloved finger. “Why not somewhere more private? With no human interference?”
    “Perhaps whoever is opening the rips has limited control?” Caesar’s face betrayed no emotion, his eyes half-lidded and calm. “If this is done by magic, there must be rules. I believe we would find the same applies to Outlander technology. Everything is bound by certain laws.”
    “What a mess,” Coyote sighed, pulling the derby away from her eyes and staring at the sky. The clouds floated by at a snail’s pace, as if they were mocking her with their normal, everyday behavior, and Coyote wished the damn rip would open already, anything so she could move from this spot. The corn obscured her vision, and the wind played with the stalks, creating a menacing swish.
    “You said these rips always opened at a set time?” Coyote asked hopefully.
    “Well, not an exact time, but it should open between now and a few hours.”
    “Hours?” Coyote repeated miserably, and she moved around again in an attempt to get more comfortable. It didn’t work, and her limbs were starting to feel sore. Caesar sat down next to her, his eyes veering toward the sky.
    Minutes turned into an hour, and Coyote’s patience was wearing thin. Just at the point when she wanted to give up and leave the whole thing to the Pinkertons, it happened.
    There was a subtle sound, more like a vibration than an actual noise. It ran through the cornfield, resonating through Coyote’s body like the rumbling of a distant locomotive. Coyote looked up and saw a light appear in the sky, almost like a permanent thunderbolt, as if the air itself had cracked open like an eggshell. She blinked. The crack grew larger and wider, tearing at the fabric of sky.
    “Oh . . . ,” was all Coyote managed to say. She had never seen an actual rip before, and the sight of it fascinated her.
    “Like I told you . . . once a day,” Sunshine said. “Let’s hope nothing comes out of this one.” The rip stretched wider until it formed a perfect circle that hung about twelve feet above the ground, one large enough to allow a herd of bulls to pass through.
    “Something is coming.” Caesar pointed at a black spot in the circle of light.
    “What is that?”