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“Really, dude?” Dekka teased. “You’re like nine feet tall and weigh the same as a Prius.”
“I do not like rats,” Armo muttered. “Especially huge rats.”
“You thought that was a huge rat?” Simone mocked. “I’ve seen rats that rat could saddle up and ride. I heard there was a mounted cop who rode a rat for a week before he realized it wasn’t a horse.”
“So not interested in talking about rats,” Armo said, while Dekka and Simone shared a shaky laugh.
“The homeless camp is just ahead. See where the wall opens up?”
“I doubt they’ll be happy to see a giant bear and a giant kitty and the world’s biggest and bluest bumblebee,” Dekka said. She raised her voice. “Hey, up there in the tunnel. Don’t be afraid, we’re coming your way, and we’re . . .” She stopped, baffled as to how exactly to explain just what they were.
Simone said, “You guys know about the Rockborn Gang?”
No answer from the darkness ahead. Then a child’s voice said, “Uh-huh.”
“Well, we are Berserker Bear, Lesbokitty, and, um, Bluebee.”
“Lesbokitty,” Dekka muttered. “You too?”
Simone said, “You don’t like the name? I hadn’t even heard it till Cruz mentioned it. Then I assumed you were representing. I could try Lesbee but I don’t think it quite works.”
Dekka took two more steps then stopped. “You’re gay?”
“Yep.”
“Huh.” Dekka was pretty sure she should say something else, but what? Lesbians rule? Yay, us? Sisterhood is powerful? #Resist?
The first of the homeless people leaned into view, a girl of maybe twelve, standing on an inset of the concrete shelf, blinking in the beam of Dekka’s flashlight.
“Are you really Lesbokitty?” the girl asked.
Dekka repressed a sigh and said, “That’s me. Lesbokitty. Who else would I be? You see a lot of chicks covered in cat fur and snake-dreads down here?”
The girl made a face that eloquently conveyed the fact that she’d seen quite a few strange things down here.
They came to the little encampment. It was on two levels, below and above a concrete support that formed a horizontal shelf four feet up and a dozen feet deep. The residents had erected tents, some actual tents, others homemade from blankets and cardboard boxes. There were wooden crates, clothing hung from a wash line, a plastic five-gallon jug of water, mostly empty. Dekka saw three men, two women, and standing behind the girl who’d spoken, a boy of about the same age.
“Are you guys going after the Bug Man?” the boy asked.
“Yeah,” Dekka said. “Do you know anything about him?”
One of the men, surprisingly well-dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a yellow down vest, climbed down from the shelf and stood up, knees cracking audibly. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “We don’t need trouble with that dude.”
“Yeah, well, he’s trouble whether you want it or not,” Dekka said. She stuck out her, well, paw, and the man took it like it was a hand. “Dekka Talent. These are Armo and Simone.”
“I’m Jason. I’m more or less in charge.”
“Less!” came a sardonic shout from the darkness.
“True enough,” Jason said, unbothered. He seemed, remarkably, not to be surprised or upset on seeing three monsters emerging from the darkness. “Listen, all we ask is don’t bring the trouble back here.”
“We’ll do our best,” Simone said.
“Yeah, okay. You, uh, hungry?” Jason jerked his head back. “We’ve got some stew on the fire.”
“Thank you, that’s a kind offer,” Simone answered. “But we’re on a schedule.”
They moved on, but his voice followed them. “I can tell you one thing.”
