Sucker Punch by Pauline Baird Jones Page A

Sisters.
    Vi felt the same pull. But it had been thoroughly locked down ahead of WTF. Those hurricane shutters hadn’t moved for the storm. Had a feeling they’d resist them to their last bolt. They could probably shoot their way in—and announce where they were as loudly as possible while doing it. Besides, she’d gone to a wedding there. Once inside there weren’t that many places to hide.
    â€œFirst place I’d look,” she said, rather than waste energy on a list of bad reasons to try it. Would the bad whoever-it-was after them think of Little Lake? Hard to know what an unknown assailant would do. So all they could do was try to keep moving and thinking. If the search for them did go airborne, which it would, it would up their level of difficulty by quite a bit. Though their attackers had to know they’d be armed. Wasn’t that hard to find out the standard armament for a police skimmer.
    Speaking of standard, Vi kinda wished she’d grabbed the parachutes. Though she wasn’t sure there’d been time. And if that would have been a good move or piling on stupid. They were pretty old school, and she hadn’t used one since her police training. Of course, whoever was after them could probably pick them off as they drifted down to—Vi considered dirt side and decided she’d rather die up here. At least there weren’t gators up here—there had been critters here in the old days, but they were also holograms—and the suicide oak was offline. Was that symbolic or ironic? She wouldn’t have minded a few more real bushes to hide behind.
    Even though it was an illusion, it was relief to drop down into the shallow base of the lake. The water wasn’t deep, but it did cover her boots. Mud sucked at the soles, then her knees as she crouched next to Joe, with Jack on her other side. She couldn’t decide if it smelled better or worse than her last adventure in mud. Stagnant water went bad so fast, but it seemed like this smell predated the storm. The city probably didn’t clean them that often when it was all hidden by holograms anyway. She tried to tell herself that no critters would have been able to move up and in, but herself wasn’t entirely convinced.
    So far there’d been no sign of pursuit, either on the ground or in the air. That was a puzzler. At least it gave them time to regroup, consider their options.
    That didn’t take long.
    Beside her, Joe dug his hand into the mud and let it slide off his fingers, his expression thoughtful. He must have sensed her gaze, because he met it, one brow lifted a bit.
    â€œIt couldn’t hurt,” Vi answered the unspoken question. Kept her sigh to herself. Hadn’t they just been to the covered-in-smelly-mud party? Her post-storm shower was a highlight of the week, right after getting kissed by Joe.
    â€œWhat couldn’t hurt?” Benson asked. She looked like she’d replaced awe for shock. And some wary.
    But not enough wary yet. Clearly Benson hadn’t clued into how deep in the crapeau they were. Vi was gonna go out on a limb and declare the girl crush over. She extracted a handful of mud and held it up. “Mud facials. They’re supposed to be great for your skin.”
    Jack allowed himself to look thoughtful. Dude would be breaking out in half a smile if he wasn’t careful.
    â€œIt should mute our heat signatures.” Without losing any laconic, he placed his weapons on the lake bank, lay down and rolled in the mud. And while on his stomach, smeared the stuff liberally over his face and head.
    â€œYou missed a spot,” Vi said, slapping some on his crown. It dripped down over his face, which made him blink. And yup, there it was. The half smile. He was out of control.
    â€œWe should expedite mud application,” Joe said, a bit of something in his voice, that turned Vi his way.
    Could a purple dude turn green? She grinned at him, then threw a