Under Dark Sky Law by Tamara Boyens Page A

the
toolkit, she loosened the racks enough that they would be easy to
pull down, but not necessarily noticeable by hotel personnel. There
were some soap containers and other toiletry items that might be
usable as weapons. The shower curtain rod was welded too firmly
into the wall to be taken down inconspicuously, but the shower
curtain itself and the towels might be fashioned into something
usable. The enormous whirlpool tub wouldn’t be useful as a weapon,
but she was absolutely looking forward to using it to soak in
later. Hot water after being in the flats and that cold hospital
for the last week was going to be beyond amazing.
    Just as she had finished completing her
makeshift weapons inventory, the food arrived and she ushered in
the food before anyone had too much of a chance to see her decked
out in such casual clothing. She had a feeling that hotel staff
would be disturbed by her wilted Mohawk and unsophisticated
clothes, and the last thing she wanted was trouble with the service
staff. Never piss off service people. It was a guaranteed way to
make sure that something unpleasant happened behind the scenes.
She’d spent enough time counseling disgruntled workers to know some
of the truly heinous things people would do when disrespected at
work.
    Taking a long hot bath after eating seemed
like a fabulous idea, but the whirlpool tub was so large it would
take a long time to fill. Fortunately it was electronic and fancy,
so after pushing the automatic start button it would fill itself,
stop before overflowing, and stay hot until she was ready to climb
in. Soft sounds of water filled the suite and she smiled. Water was
always an issue, and a bath like this was another extravagance they
rarely saw in the pits.
    She sat down to enjoy the succulent meal—it
was fantastic even when compared with some of the things she got
her hands on during smuggling runs. Perfectly cooked filet mignon
and crisp vegetables with potatoes and a big salad. Unfortunately
the steak knife was basically just a glorified butter knife, but
she made a point to pocket it once she was done cutting the meat.
The salad tasted clean, and it alone was probably worth several
thousand dollars. The agricultural greenhouses were become more and
more rare as resources continued to dwindle to dangerous levels.
Wine would have been perfect with the meal, but she followed her
own rule of remaining clean and sober unless there was appropriate
supervision. They made some powerful hooch out there in the pits,
and she enjoyed a good night of drinking as much as the next
person, but it had been a long time since she felt comfortable
letting herself have so much freedom. The only person she had ever
truly fully trusted in that respect was dead.
    The chocolate cake was also fantastic. Being
in Southern Arizona they actually had a fairly decent connection to
some of the Mexican and South American chocolate dealers, but in
most other parts of the country access to real chocolate was a rare
thing indeed. There was artificial chocolate substitutes of course,
but nothing could ever really replace actual chocolate. Heaven. Her
turbulent belly was equally happy to be full and settled.
    The staff seemed like they had an uncanny
ability to judge how long it took a guest to finish a meal—just as
she put down her fork after the final crumb of cake was gone, there
was a knock at the door. She would have thought they were watching
via the security cameras if she hadn’t been fairly confident about
ridding the room of surveillance equipment. A look through the
peephole revealed another hotel staff member dressed in a creepy
white suit. There were no soldiers in the hallway anymore, but that
wasn’t all that odd considering they had been switching shifts and
leaving gaps in their coverage fairly regularly. She assumed it was
because they were short-staffed and there were a lot of people that
needed guarding.
    When she unlocked the door to bring the food
tray back to the staff