Busted Flush

Gardener pulled a pouch from her belt and ran to the edge of the water. Earth Witch and Cameo’s efforts had paid off. There was a substantial mass of earth bolstering the weakened side of the levee. Gardener opened her hand and threw some of the seeds out. They began to grow as they flew through the air. By the time they hit the mud, they were ready to root.

Cypress, live oak, and magnolia trees soared into the air. Their roots grabbed at the earth like gnarled hands, intertwining and sinking into the mud. Gardener threw a few more handfuls of seeds, and reeds and water plants began to fill in where it was still bare. In minutes, what had been stripped away by Harriet was lush vegetation.

Earth Witch flopped down to the ground. Cameo dropped next to her. “God, how many more of these are we going to have to do?” Earth Witch asked. Sweat was pouring off her. I was supposed to be her friend, but right now I couldn’t afford friends. Nothing I liked more than being head asshole.

My cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and saw it was Bugsy. I slipped away because I didn’t want Cameo (or Simoon or whoever of the smorgasbord that could potentially come through her) to know it was him. It rarely ended well when team members slept with each other—and Cameo/Simoon/Bugsy had added new twists to an old story. What a cluster fuck—as it were. Oh, and color me less than thrilled at having to deal with the not-quite-as-dearly-departed-as-I-thought via Cameo. I think the dead should stay dead. I’m wacky that way.

I walked to where it was a little quieter, and answered. “What’s up?” I asked.

“We’ve been able to get help from Mayor Connick’s office,” he said. “We’re coordinating our efforts with his. They even gave Holy Roller a block of time to broadcast evacuation instructions. They’ll replay that speech every hour.”

I let a bubble float up from my hand and hover above my palm. “Did you get the evacuation website up and running?”

I could almost hear him sigh. “Yes, of course I did,” he said. “Honestly, you’d think I was a massive screw-off the way you treat me.”

I let the bubble go and watched as it slowly rose into the air, drifting higher and higher.

“I don’t think you’re a screw-off, Bugsy,” I said. I was leaning backward, to keep an eye on the bubble. “I think you’re a massive smartass. Big difference. How’s the preacher doing?”

“If you like long-winded speeches with loads of references to Jay-sus, then he’s doing great.”

Suddenly Bugsy started giggling.

“What’s happening?” I asked. This was hardly the time for laughing.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just found a YouTube video of Holy Roller with fart noises inserted into his praise Jesus stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. We were trying to evacuate the city for a second time, and Bugsy was looking at fart videos.

“Send me a link,” I said.

I was checking my e-mail on my phone when the TV crew finally arrived. I’d asked Ink if she could find anything out about Niobe and Drake. There was a message from her:

To: prettybiggirl@ggd.com

From: tatsforless@ggd.com

Honeypie,

SCARE did not get Niobe and Drake. Like you, Billy Ray is going nuts trying to find them. He’s got agents looking for them all over Texas. It’s like they’ve vanished into thin air.

But he wants your ass. (He can’t have it because it’s mine, mine, MINE! LOL!)

You are in a world of shit right now. SCARE and BICC are hugely pissed about what went down in Cross Plains.

There are warrants out for your arrest. Aiding and abetting, resisting arrest, assault and battery, and a bunch of stuff I’m pretty sure they made up.

Hugs and Kisses,

Ink

I scrolled through my messages but there was nothing from Niobe or Drake. Their silence was beginning to frighten me. I knew they were angry about what had happened in Cross Plains. God knows, I wanted to throttle everyone at SCARE. I’d screwed up things there royally. There’s an ace talent to have: Fuck Up Girl. When she’s there, something’s bound to go wrong.

“Miss Pond!”

I turned off my phone and slipped it into my back pocket. One of the local TV anchors was mincing her way toward me. It was still pretty muddy. The sun had come out and the stench of sewage and dead fish rolled over us in waves. She looked out of place in her tidy pastel suit.

“Well, Miss Pond, you’re looking amazing, I must say,” she said.

Of course I did. I’d bubbled off almost all my weight for the media appearances I knew I’d have to do as team leader. Good thing Holy Roller was around. A few run-ins with him and I’d be back to bubble-icious.

I pulled myself up to my full height, which meant I towered over the anchor. “Are we ready to start shooting?” I asked.

“I, uh, thought we’d take a moment to set the shot,” the anchor stammered.

I gave her my sternest Team Leader look. “You’re joking, right? I’m trying to coordinate levee repairs, the evacuation of the city, and making sure people aren’t coming back into town, and you’re worrying about shot setups?”