11 Years Later…
"My luck is running low today," Karma muttered as her phone slipped out of her hand. The cell sank into the oil-filled ocean water lapping against her small one-person inflatable boat. "You'd think the residents would care about Florida. No wonder no one lives here."
Swearing silently, she dug out another phone and typed in the current year, Ice Year Twelve, and the time. It was 1:05 a.m.
The phone took a few minutes to connect to the nearest cell tower that was still emitting a signal. When all the things on the screen looked correct, she tied off her boat. Satisfied her new cell would update, she shoved it into the hidden pocket of her black one-piece bodysuit. Karma pushed the worn green sack onto her back as she climbed up through the hole in the floor above her head to her temporary hideout.
As soon as she was inside the forgotten seaside bungalow, she paused. Her hands carefully removed her pack, and she found a safe place to set it down. She checked her cell again. Her phone was loading. She breathed a sigh of relief that her phone still worked here in Florida. When she moved on, it would be out of service because of the ice knocking down yet another service tower. She glanced down at the blinking screen. She would use the cell for as long as she could, but then she would have to trash it before leaving her decaying ocean lair.
After she pocketed her phone a second time, she looked around the small damp room. Her eyes accepted the darkness like daytime. The night vision was a strange gift, but she never questioned the ability. Instead, in the dark, she was simply pleased that she could double-check all entrances were safe, and all her traps were in place.
When she completed her task, she picked up her bag and proceeded down the narrow hall to what some would've called the kitchen. As she reached the small, moldy room, she dumped the canned food on a short metal table. She then looked around for her stepbrother.
It had been one month since Tad had appeared on her doorstep. She had to admit it was so far, so good. That's what made her nervous. She waited for everything to fall apart. When it came to her wayward sibling, trouble was always expected.
When Tad was nowhere to be found, she headed to the dilapidated house's main living space.
As she entered the living room, the building swayed. The structure had long ago become a dangerous place, which was precisely why she liked it. The house was once a fancy home for the rich on a beautiful coast near the ocean. Now the house was on worn stilts above the murky black water. This was no place anyone would venture, and that meant no one would come looking for her here.
Karma found her favorite seat situated over a decent place on the floor. The chair was inviting, and she sank onto the cushion. She hadn't slept in two days. The idea of some well-deserved rest was too tempting to pass up. She would look for Tad later. She hoped he hadn't gotten into trouble wherever he was.
Her eyes drifted shut. She relaxed. All was secure for the moment.
A scratching noise drew her attention only seconds after she had closed her eyes.
Karma rose. She glided through the hallway, making sure to stay on safe patches of tiles. Her small, lightweight form moved like a dancer, hopping gracefully from safe hardwood to reliable carpet.
She'd never fallen through the rotted floor, but the idea of being dumped into the disgusting water below didn't appeal to her. She wasn't even sure she would be able to swim in the swill.
Karma moved swiftly. Continuously she scanned the area, looking for the noise that had stalled her sleep. As soon as she came upon him, she stumbled and lost her balance. Her eyes rested on her stepbrother's battered form. Sadly, nothing about this situation shocked her.
She was pleased Tad was so beaten. The odd angle of his arm prevented him from climbing up from his boat into the house. He tried to pull himself up on the stilts and failed. If he'd advanced, he would've set off one of her traps and a smoke bomb. As it was, with his arm broken at his side, he struggled.
Quickly, Karma dismantled anything that would harm him. She reached down to help him through the rotting hole. She left his rickety wooden raft in the water and took on as much of his weight as she could. Tad was a skinny man. She didn't have to fight under his weight. For now, she ignored her exhaustion.
"Tad, what the hell did you do? You've got the worst luck in the world, you know that?" The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. She ushered him into the chair she'd just vacated.
"I really have done it, Sis." Tad shrugged with his good shoulder. He winced, but Karma didn't feel bad for him.
"You only call me Sis when you're about to tell me something that's going to piss me off. Tad, eventually, you're gonna have to grow up. You threw away every cent your father left you, and now what? Do you think I'm going to help you forever? I can't even help myself," Karma located her first-aid kit. "I thought you came to me to get your shit together. That's the speech I remember."
Karma didn't wait for a response to her diatribe. Instead, she started mending Tad's shoulder as best she could. She didn't really expect an answer. Tad was spoiled and selfish. He would end up giving her a line of excuses she didn't want anyway. Besides, what Tad did with his life wasn't any concern of hers. She wasn't his keeper, and she wouldn't want the job even if it were offered.
"I need money, Karmen-Marie. This might be over my head."
Karma's head snapped up. She looked closely at her stepbrother. He always asked her for money, but the way he asked now made her pause. She could see him perfectly in the dark. His features were twisted in pure fear.
"Over your head?" she asked while she used a bandage to close a particularly ugly cut. Tad grimaced, but she assumed his scrunched-up face was caused by the idea of talking to her rather than the actual injury.
"I was so bored sitting around here. I know you said it wasn't safe to go exploring, but I didn't see anything around here to be worried about. Besides, you know how I get. I can't sit around like you."
"So?" Karma asked.
"So… I went out for a while. Then I ran into a friend of mine. It's a guy I knew a while back. He's cool."
Karma knew Tad had no friends. The person he was referring to must've been a drug dealer or a thief. Not the best of company, but who was she to judge? Even with the knowledge that this guy was bad news, she refrained from saying anything. Karma was afraid Tad wouldn't continue, and she needed to know what kind of mess he'd made. She should never have expected Tad to be able to wait here for her. What had she been thinking? Oh yeah. She remembered. Karma had thought it would be nice to get food. Silly her.
"My friend and I, we started partying at a place which he said was on the level. He knew I didn't have any money. He didn't care. We were having a good time, but then I guess I blacked out. I don't remember some of it. When I woke up, I was at another guy's house. We were playing poker…."
"Let me get this right. You got stoned. You passed out. Then you began playing poker with strangers? And at some point, you thought, 'what a great idea?' Tad, I swear, this is the stupidest thing I've—"
Tad cut her off. "I was having a good time."
"You're a terrible poker player. And a stupid drunk. Are you out of your mind?" Karma barely refrained from slapping him.
"I know." Tad actually sounded contrite. The tone cooled her temper.
"Is that it?"
"No," Tad muttered miserably. "I pissed someone off. Then I remember some guy saying I owed him money. He beat the shit out of me."
"This can't be the first time that's happened," Karma responded dryly.
It was becoming incredibly difficult to care about Tad as this story continued, but Karma promised herself she would listen. She needed to know everything. If Tad had told someone about her or if they saw where they lived, that would mean it was time to move.
"Aww, come on, Sis. I was having a good time."
That was it. His perpetual I was having a good time. Karma gave an exasperated exhale. He probably deserved his beating, yet no matter how much he received his "good time" was always more important. Why was she patching him up? She was wasting her time and her luck.
It was time she removed herself from her stepbrother's life. She would let him make it, or not, by himself. She would take care of whatever he needed this one last time and then cut him loose. Besides, she was tired of living in a house suspended above stinking water. If she moved on, she would have to do it alone. It was safer that way. Being alone was safer, even if it was lonely.
"Let's start with how much you need and who do I pay?"
"Me," a deep voice came from behind her.