Neon Oldie #19


C.T. McMillan

Cover: C.T. McMillan
Model: Megan Crawford (ING: @mleighmoon)

Copyright 2018 by C.T. McMillan
All Rights Reserved
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

Also By CT McMillan
Back to Valhalla: A Military Fantasy
Neon Oldie Vol. 1 “The Mark”

I could not have come this far without my family encouraging me to pursue my ambition to be a writer.

To Razor’ and ’19 for providing inspiration.


The cinderblock walls were lined with posters of what you’d expect from a gang of Left Wing Extremists. Vintage and modern propaganda hung in cheap plastic frames as Kiddo rushed to the office. It was the first threshold on her right, same place as always. The room was stuffy with a small desk, two thin-screen monitors, and a pair of bookcases. The clutter would’ve been a problem were Kiddo looking for something inconspicuous.

Flipping on her phone light she shimmied around to push the chair back and knelt before the CPU tower under the desk. It was quite analog, the kind Kiddo’s grandparents would have used. She clicked the side panel off, revealing its guts of bundled wire and cooling fans. At the edge of the motherboard were three USB connectors, two of which were occupied. She had plenty of options, but Kiddo settled on the easiest.

She brought around her knapsack and pulled out a skinny thumb drive rigged with an antenna. In a small plastic bag of different cables she picked one that would fit the connector and married it to the thumb drive. Placing the whole thing inside the tower took some strategic packing. A light on the drive blinked green before Kiddo thumbed her phone and locked the panel back in place.

She stood and cut the light about the same time she spotted the fancy modern laptop sitting on a bookshelf at the back wall. It had a sleek body and Kiddo figured whatever was on it would prove just as useful. She glanced over her shoulder to the threshold then opened her sack. After fastening the opening over the laptop, her soul alnost jumped out of her body from surprise.

“Taping the sensor on the interior door was clever,” said Cassidy. “Stupid-simple, but clever.”

Kiddo didn’t dare move because if there was anything she learned ripping off the Trotskys, it’s they’re notorious gun-nuts. “There’s an old Russian saying: whatever works.”

“Doubt that.”

“I’d carefully explain why you’re wrong, but I’d rather keep my identity to myself.”

“Doubt that too. You know who we are. All I have to do is cross-reference the details you’ve given away with our list of subversives. You’re already ours.”

“Sharp,” said Kiddo taking her left hand off the sack. “Sharper than Bernetti. It was only a matter of time before she got pinched. I just helped her to it.”

“…How do you know about the leaks?”

“You said it yourself.” With her eyes she peered down and saw the edge of the desk right where she needed it: behind her left leg. “Look me up.”

Kiddo almost threw herself off with how fast she thrust her arm. Her left fist struck the edge of the desk and sent it spinning across the floor into the threshold. The Chairman jerked back before Kiddo tackled her. Cassidy was a head-and-a-half taller, but it didn’t make a difference against speed and combat-rated mods. The old fashion AK she was holding hit the floor when they stumbled into the hall. Kiddo had the sack in hand when she gripped a thick tuft of Cassidy’s hair from behind. The Chairman shrieked louder when Kiddo forced her to face the other end of the hall.

Tommy and the Secretary were blocking the way to the loading dock behind their own AKs. “Let go of Cassidy!” he shouted with a voice that cracked.

Her hood came off in the commotion, so Kiddo decided to play with them. “Can’t you see the hair?” she asked with a smile. “I’m one of you, chunk. I hate straight white men and love soymilk. Communism and the Matriarchy will save the world!”

“Yeah right!”

The way he said it made her laugh out loud.

“Drop the bag and we’ll let you go,” said the Secretary with an icy voice.

“I’ll yank her scalp off her skull if you don’t move out of the way.”

“Do it!” strained the Chairman.

“But Comrade –“ started Tommy.

“Do it, you idiots!”

Tommy and the Secretary glanced at each other and inched into the superstore proper. Kiddo slung the sack over one shoulder and edged forward to keep pace. She knew they couldn’t hit the side of a barn, but she put as much of Cassidy between her and those guns as possible.

The two Trotskys were well out of the hall when she stopped. “Oh! Almost forgot…” With her free hand Kiddo patted down the Chairman’s front pockets, including her flat ass.

“Stop assaulting Cassidy–“ cracked Tommy

“Aw, shut up!” yelled Kiddo before she pulled the phone from her jeans. “When they were taking over the Motherland,” she said pocketing the phone and putting her back against the swinging doors, “Dad’s ancestors were doing their own assaulting. And that straight white man on your chests told them to do it.” Kiddo gave them one more smile. “Beregite sebya, tovarishchi!”

Her shove almost made Cassidy airborne before knocking into Tommy and the Secretary. The loading dock was clear of obstruction with the lights off, but Kiddo could see the outline of the closest shudder. By the time she was standing in front of it there came the piercing bark of automatic fire. Concrete burst around her with flashes of sparks when the slugs hit metal. Tommy and the Secretary were aiming correctly as they walked in, but they hit everything around Kiddo except Kiddo.

It was no excuse to stay longer when she shoved her fingers between the shudder’s slats and made a hole. The asphalt came at her fast after diving through and Kiddo remembered she had fragile equipment on her back. Her hands met the ground first, forcing her to slide on her side. There was a loud tear and burning scratch, but Kiddo was too busy running to see what it was. As she sprinted up from the dock to the north side she felt wind ride up her leg.

The asphalt burst at her feet and tossed hot shards toward her neck. She swung left, putting the superstore in front of their aim. It gave her time to climb the fence and land in the woods before she saw Cassidy and the goons come around the corner. Kiddo rushed deeper. They weren’t shooting, but she wasn’t eager to make sure. The air was moist and thick, the ground cluttered with roots. Kiddo hiked her knees up from fear of tripping, darting side to side to keep from running into the thick trunks.

The trees thinned out when she came upon a road. Lampposts running in both directions were still functioning, showing Kiddo she was well and truly alone. She held herself up by her knees and listened between labored breaths for movement in the woods.

As she got control of her lungs she noticed the rip in one pant leg, showing off a chuck of her thigh, and a bright red friction burn. Confident she wasn’t being chased Kiddo pulled a roll of duct tape from her sack.


Recommended Reading/Viewing
Blade Runner, Directed by Ridley Scott
13 Assassins, Directed by Takashi Miike
Old Boy, Directed by Chan-wook Park
Ghost in the Shell, Directed by Mamoru Oshii
Metropolis, Directed by Rintaro
Yojimbo, Directed by Akira Kurosawa
A Touch of Evil, Directed by Orson Welles
Battle Angel Alita, By Yukito Kishiro
On the Waterfront, Directed by Elia Kazan

About the Author
C.T. is a Florida native and proud gun owner. He is a fan of all things military, comic books, and a self-proclaimed movie buff. In his off-time C.T. reviews movies on a blog no one reads and writes screenplays that will never get made, but enjoys it nonetheless. He hopes this book thing will actually pay off so he can do it forever.