Issue #91 – Rock and Roll Lifestyle

The Descendants Vol 8: The Weaver's Web

• Issue #85 – The Ballad of Bad Lass
• Issue #86 – Those Not Forgotten
• Issue #87 – Descendants… In Space
• Issue #88 – Tome of Battle
• Issue #89 – All That Glitters
• Issue #90 – Just Us Sidekicks
• Issue #91 – Rock and Roll Lifestyle
• Descendants Special #8 – The Heart of Rock ‘N Roll
• Issue #92 – Homage
• Issue #93 – Day of Recovery
• Issue #94 – The Knight, The Witch and the Gadgeteer (FaerieQuest Part 1)
• Issue #95 – Into The Woods (FaerieQuest Part 2)

Rock and Roll Lifestyle (Part 4)

It was quickly obvious that Lily had been jockeying for the appearance of generosity and not really thinking through the logistics of housing almost a dozen people in the suite.

There weren’t even enough flat surfaces to sit on in the main room for all of them, especially not since the members of Snackrifice were visiting. Warrick was sitting in the corner, using his duffel bag as a beanbag chair. Tink, who hadn’t anticipated the time change between England and LA and so hadn’t rested accordingly, was leaned up against him, ‘resting her eyes’.

He was watching Cyn watching Lily’s slow descent into panic with smug satisfaction. Normally,h e would condemn that sort of schadenfreude, but then he’d gone to high school with Lily too and while he didn’t approve of It, he understood.

Lily, to her credit, didn’t seem bothered so much by the presence of so many as worried that she was going to come off as a bad hostess. It was a marked improvement over the Lily he knew.

“I’m not sure this place will let us order enough cots.” She was fretting, moving around the crowded living room, trying to eyeball the size of the room and the estimated size of the cots they would need. “Or that they’d fit in here. Or if they’ll even allow us to have this many people in here. This has to be some kind of fire code violation.”

“You’ve never been to a convention, have you?” Of course Cyn was going to step up to rub it in.

Lily blinked. “No?” She knew something bad was coming. Every interaction she’d ever had with Cyn in their entire existence together told her so, but she couldn’t stop herself from replying. “I’m not a doctor or a lawyer or anything; why would I got to a convention?”

With a theatrical sigh and a roll of her eyes, Cyn shook her head violently. “Not that kind of convention! Gaming. Comics. Anime. Sci-Fi…” She stopped, considering who she was talking to, looking her up and down. “Kinky sex?”

“What?!” Lily’s scandalized shriek killed all the other conversation in the room. And just like that,they were the center of attention.

Cyn shrugged. “I don’t know the kind of stuff you’re into. But there’s probably still a convention for it. You know, a big event ting where people interested in a thing come together to celebrate that thing and buy merch for the thing and maybe dress up like the thing?”

The word ‘thing’ seemed to have lost all meaning. Lily stared blankly—not because she wasn’t following, but because her mind wouldn’t stop her from imagining an event where people came together to buy merchandise for kinky sex—and dress up for it? She immediately figured it would be somewhere in Vegas.

Cyn smirked, figuring out exactly what Lily was thinking. “Anyway,” she drew the word out, “When people got to cons, they usually go with a bunch of friends—like this… except usually no you—and cram into a room. Like this. And you know the secret to getting a goo night sleep with a dozen people in a two-bed hotel room?”

She reached dramatically behind the couch and pulled out a tightly rolled bundle. “Sleeping bags!”

Lily’s gaze slid off Cyn to the bag in her hands. She blinked. “I… well that’s wonderful that you have one, but what about everyone…” her eyes traveled around the room, finally noticing the similar bundles mixed in here and there with people’s luggage, “…else.”

Smiling sweetly, Cyn shrugged. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

For Lily, this did no compute. Sure, Cyn had shown her up, but at the same time, she’d taken a massive load off her shoulders. She had no idea whether or not this was the intended result though, leaving her fumbling for the right response.

Even though he wasn’t one to toy with Lily, Warrick found himself engrossed in the exchange until something tugged at his senses. Really his sense. As far as he knew, Neither his sister, his favorite cousin nor very distant criminal cousin actually had his metal sense. And this was a very distinctive metal he was sensing; a kind he knew only existed in small amounts, two of which were currently wrapped around his biceps. Another was mounted to a spring-loaded mechanism inside one of Tink’s gauntlets, which was itself…

Well he’d never really thought of where their costumes went when they donned them using their D-icons. Well, he did thing of them, but only in passing as a joke about ‘hammerspace’. At the very least, he couldn’t detect the orihalcite flechette that once pierced his lung, which he’d given to Tink as a romantic gesture.

But he did sense another source of orihalcite. And it was just outside the room, moving toward…

There was a knock on the door.

Lily broke off from her discussion with Cyn and turned toward the sound of knocking. “Just a moment!”

Before he even completely formed a plan in his head, Warrick was up and moving, barely registering Tink’s surprised yelp at losing her impromptu pillow. His shirt hung low enough to cover his belt, which he commanded to melt and creep up his chest, forming a protective plate there. His pants were drooping, but he would survive being shot in the chest.

“I got it,” he declared, trying not to look like he was running for the door.

“Rude much?” Lily asked, forced to step back to avoid running into him.

Warrick ignored the question and looked through the peep hole. There was a scruffy man standing on the other side of the door. A cap reading Long Street Couriers with the image of a bicycle with a rocket engine mounted to the rear emblazoning it barely covered dark brown, unkempt locks that spilled out from under it. A short, scraggly beard matched the hair. Whoever he was stood too close to the door for Warrick to see anything else.

“Who is it?” Warrick asked. In the spy stories he’d seen, the hero would stand aside after asking that in order to avoid the bullets that had a fifty-fifty chance of spraying through the door. But Lily was behind him and his friends were behind them, so he put his faith in his chest plate and waited.

“Courier. I’ve got a delivery for a,” the was a pause and when the scraggly man spoke again, he sounded like he was reading, “Sonia Remington?”

Hearing this, Lily finally pushed past Warrick and opened the door. She didn’t even leave the locking bar that would keep the door from being forced all the way open in place, she just threw the portal wide.

The man was wearing a long coat and gloves as well as a Long Street Couriers messenger bag.

“What? She’s not here. Why would someone like that stay at a corporate suite. This isn’t even a penthouse!”

The stranger did a double take. “Are you sure? Because I have this exact room number and building.” He pulled a clipboard from the bag and held it up for her to read.

Meanwhile, Warrick glanced over at the nearest member of both Snackrifice and The Descendants: Lisa. She looked just as lost as he felt. It was a pretty huge coincidence that a package would accidentally be sent to Sonia to a place where Sonia’s temporary band’s friends were staying. By the careful, but twitchy glances the ‘courier’ was shooting around the room, he knew something was wrong too. He’d really expected Sonia Remington to be around

All signs pointed to psycho stalker.

Warrick cleared his throat. “I’m going out to the convenience store downstairs—forgot to pack toothpaste. Anyone else need anything?”

“If they have any of those chocolate and mint cookies, I’d love some of those!” Juniper called out. She and Malcolm had claimed one half of the sofa.

“And coffee. We need coffee up here,” added Ollie.

Tink rose from where she’d been sitting and taking notice of the whose scene. She’d seen and heard enough to put some pieces together. “I’ll go with you.”

Giving a smile to her, Warrick slipped out past the ‘courier’. “Pardon me.” He waited until Tink came out the join him and then headed for the elevators. The courier finally gave up on trying to squeeze Lily for information and headed back the same direction. He didn’t try to hurry or call out at the elevator doors stated to close on him.

All the same, Warrick nudged Tink with an elbow and held the door all the same.

“Thanks.” The courier gave each of them a nod, then moved to the back of the elevator.

“Not problem.” Warrick tried to make himself sound upbeat. “So… you’ve really got a package for Sonia Remington? The Sonia Remington?”

Tink picked up on the play and joined in. “Oh my god, I love her! Oh! Do you think it’s like a studio single she’s supposed to listen to or something? I wonder how much you could make selling it online.”

The courier grunted. “I might just find out. If I can’t deliver this, I might lose my job—might need whatever’s in here to pay the rent.”

Warrick feigned sympathy, feeling a real pang when a little voice suggested the man’s plight might be genuine. “Sorry to hear that, man. Hope you find her. Lil might be right though: when you get to the front desk, check the penthouse.”

“Yeah, thanks.” The words came out flat and lifeless.

The elevator reached the lobby and Warrick and Tink got out first, angling straight for the main doors. The hotel didn’t have a convenience store in the lobby, just a gift shop; the store in this case, was across the street.

“So what’s going on? Is that guy stalking Sonia Remington?” Tink asked as they walked to the crossing on the corner. The courier came out soon after, and, as Warrick expected, started walking since there was no courier bike.

“Something like that. How else would he have known Lily’s place had anything to do with her unless she stalked the band that’s meant to be playing with her?”

Now that the fake courier was moving away down the street, the couple turned and followed him.

“How dangerous do you think he is?”

“Dangerous enough that he got his hands on orihalcite,” said Warrick. “And as far as I can tell,t he only places you can get orihalcite are a government lab…”

“…and Tome.” Tink frowned. “Why didn’t you just say you thought he was a Tome goon?”

“When’s the last time one of their guys knocked? That’s why I’m not too sure.”

While he was saying this, Tink had taken out her own palmtop and started texting to Lisa.

‘War says this guy has Tome equips, knew where to find you guys, looking for Sonia. Any ideas?’

There was a long pause before Lisa replied.

‘Very good one. Jun has Sonia’s phone.’

Immediately, Tink tapped in her response:

‘get rid of it’.

***

Garfield did a quick scan of his immediate surroundings and then called the only number the printed phone he’d bought across the street from the hotel could call.

“She wasn’t there. But they know her. Half of those kids acted suspicious as hell—even followed me down the elevator.”

Kaycee’s voice replied with unnecessary brightness. “You sure she wasn’t just hiding? Maybe whoever paid for this job tipped her off to the hit somehow.”

“Trust me, the kids up there couldn’t hide anything for more than five minutes. She wasn’t anywhere around the place.”

“Well her palmtop is there,” said Kaycee. “Maybe one of them borrowed it.”

Garfield stopped to admire a street vendor’s wares, using the action to get a look behind him. “Damn it, those kids are still following me. Look, I need to lose them. In the meantime, find me another way to track Remington. She’s a celebrity; doesn’t she have paparazzi and annoying fans reporting her every move on the internet?”

“There’s different levels of celebrity, Fat Cat. And even with that number one single, she ain’t made that level yet. But I’ll put a few feelers out and see what I can find. Good luck with Hardy Boy and Nancy Drew I see tailing you on the street cams.”

“Seriously? Damn it.”

Kaycee laughed in his ear. “Don’t worry, Fat Cat. Public cars coming up on your ten o’clock in about one block. I’ll have one running by the time you get to them.”

Sure enough, when Garfield reached the next corner, he spotted a slate of parking spaces home to three dark brown City of Los Angeles public cars. For way more money than simply taking a cab or commuter pod, one could drive the car yourself and call it luxury. Garfield felt better about it because he wasn’t paying. The one nearest him started up before he was within a yard of it.

***

Warrick and Tink rounded the corner just in time to see the fake courier climb into a public car, back into traffic, and drive away.

“Shit.” Warrick muttered, watching his quarry escape.

Tink in the meantime tapped in the number printed on the side of the public car. “Maybe not. Every public car has GPS. We can at least stay on the scent.”

He beau gave her a brief smile before scowling after the car. “Yeah, but on the scent of what?”

***

“I wouldn’t have ever picked ‘coach flight’ for how I wanted to spend the last of my money.” Bobby Scramble shook out his shoulders as he and the others came out of the airport and headed for the commuter pods. “Joe, you are the stupidest son of a bitch ever.”

Debby glared at Joe when he tried to look to her for sympathy. “Why the hell did we have to fly to LA in the first place?”

“Because they either wouldn’t believe us or just have me arrested if I called her,” said Joe.

“I’m kind of really okay with you being arrested right about now.” Debby folded her eyes and looked around as if for a cop.

Joe shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, but if that happens, she’d still die, now wouldn’t she?”

“How do you even know you gave all our money to an actual hit-man anyway?” asked Bobby.

A dark look crossed Joe’s face. “I know. Trust me on that much, Bobby. We all had lives before this band—and mine wasn’t music. Not by a long shot. Now come on, we gotta find her before I get our money’s worth.”