Becoming Honey

Amber spent the rest of the day outside whilst she waited for Smithie to return. She felt odd; different somehow. She had memories that were not her own and that were confusing for the most part. As best she could tell those memories were only partial; the flash of a blade here, a sprint through a forest there. More worrying, perhaps, was the fact that some of those memories appeared to be impossible. She was no expert, of course, but unless she was very much mistaken she was seeing memories from the future, filled with spaceships and strange, varied creatures that were completely alien to her.

She had not realised it but dusk was creeping in and by the time she did realise, it was almost dark and there was a definite chill to the air.

“All right then, Ryan,” she said, quietly. “Where the Hell are you?”

Honey had told her that Ryan would return to the farmhouse at dusk. Well, it was a good hour or so beyond that now and Amber was beginning to feel an uncomfortable feeling, the sneaking suspicion that something had happened.

She waited for another hour before resigning herself to the fact that Ryan Smith was not going to return before she headed inside. If something had happened to Ryan then the way she saw it, she had little choice but to seek him out. He was the closest thing she had to a friend right now but even if she put that to the side, she was a Honey and she did not need the fragmented memories of Honeys past to know that leaving a man behind was most definitely not an option.

Amber headed upstairs and after paying a quick visit to the bathroom, she changed out of the jeans and T-shirt she had put on that morning and slipped into the catsuit. For the first time it felt comfortable, as though it was exactly what she was supposed to be wearing. More to the point, just as Ryan had mentioned, she could quite easily forget that she was wearing anything at all, such was the perfection with which it fitted her voluptuous curves.

She nodded with satisfaction as she appraised her reflection in the full-length mirror situated on the inside of the wardrobe door. She looked good. Better than that, she looked hot; smoking hot.

“Weapons,” she muttered as she made her way from the bedroom and downstairs. “Where the bloody hell did Ryan put that hold-all?”

After fifteen minutes of searching she eventually found it in what she had assumed to be a pantry of some kind, and she unzipped the large bag with a smile. Everything was there, exactly as she had left it when she had loaded the bag into the boot of the Aston Martin a few days prior.

Sealing the hold-all once more, she slung it over her shoulder with the greatest of ease, despite the fact that she remembered it being rather a heavy, awkward thing to carry, and made her way outside.

She had been so used to finding a car out on the gravel that it surprised her a great deal when she found that this was not the case. There was no sign of the injured Aston Martin DB6, and the TVR she had so carefully beaten the dent out of was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn... Just when I need something with a bit of poke, I gotta’ bloody walk!” Amber spoke the words out loud, even though she knew full well there was no one there to hear her.

She whirled around at the sound of mechanical whirring and watched, her head cocked to one side as if she was a puppy awaiting a treat, as a large section of the gravel driveway began to rise. Moments later, something resembling a single-car garage stood where there had once been nothing. Within was a thing of absolute beauty and Amber smirked as she made her way quickly to it.

She headed to the rear of the Mustang first, and the boot clicked and rose as she approached. Placing the hold-all inside she closed it gently and then made her way quickly around to the driver’s door. Just as was the case with the boot, the door opened automatically as if it knew exactly what was required of it, and she slipped inside to find that once again, the keys were already in the ignition.

Amber turned the key and the engine roared into life. Headlights activated automatically and from the dash to her left, a six inch screen arose.

“Good evening, Honey.” The voice was vaguely male and definitely computer generated. It was also not lost on Amber that the voice had referred to her as ‘Honey,’ and that made the smile upon her face spread even wider. “As this is your first time, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Seven Point Zero One but you, Honey, can call me Harry.”

“All right then, Harry,” Amber replied with a shrug as she caressed the steering wheel with the tips of her fingers. “Why Seven Point Zero One?”

“Because it takes me seven point zero one seconds to go from standing to one hundred miles per hour.”

“I take it you’re not factory set then?”

“Far from it,” replied Harry. “All Ryan had was my chassis. The rest, he built from scratch.”

“Speaking of Ryan, I need to find him.”

“That should not be too difficult,” the car replied. “Let me run a quick... Oh, wait.”

“What’s wrong, Harry?”

“Nothing, at least I don’t think there’s anything wrong. I have, however, just intercepted a video call intended for Ryan’s laptop.”

“Can you put it through here, on your screen?”

“Of course,” Harry scoffed, sounding as offended as it was possible for a Mustang to sound. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Hey, sorry,” she replied. “Don’t forget, I’m pretty new to all of this.”

Harry put the intercepted video call onto the six inch screen that had risen out of the dash, and Amber was in no doubt whatsoever that the woman she could see was an Amazon.

“If you want Mr Smith to live to see another day you will come here, alone and unarmed, and take his place.”

“Where’s here?” Amber asked, all traces of the smile that she assumed would be permanently etched upon her face had gone, leaving behind an angry, stern expression.

“You’re a clever girl, Honey,” the Amazon replied with a chuckle. “I’m certain that you’ll be able to work it out.”

“If you so much as...”

“Oh, please,” the Amazon interrupted. “There really is no need for idle threats. Just know that as long as you are here by midnight, Mr Smith will leave here in pretty much the same condition as he arrived.”

With that, the call ended and Amber gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Where is he, Harry?” she asked with much more calm than she actually felt. “Where did that damn call originate?”

“I don’t know about the call, it was too heavily encrypted for me to track it in such a short space of time,” the car replied. “However, Ryan’s beacon is still active and places him somewhere in the north of England.”

“The north is a pretty big place, Harry. Can’t you narrow it down?”

“I’ll work on that as you drive. The Amazons must be using something to scramble the signal but don’t worry, Honey. The closer to the signal you get, the more accurately I’ll be able to pin down Ryan’s location.”

***

Harry was not lying when he had said that he was not built to the factory settings normally associated with a GT500. Amber found that she was able to drive at speeds approaching two hundred and fifty miles per hour, and she was not entirely sure how it was possible for her to control the vehicle at such speeds.

“Just a thought,” she said as they left the M1 motorway to join the A1 a few miles east of Leeds, “but aren’t we going to get pulled over?” The journey had thus far taken a few minutes over an hour, a third of the time it would normally take travelling at more conventional speeds.

“Whilst I can be physically seen, assuming one’s eyes are in perfect working order, it is impossible for a camera of any kind to detect me due to a cloaking technology developed by North Korea,” said Harry, with a rather cheerful tone to his otherwise digitised voice. “Their government developed it for use with their nuclear weapons, however the Honeys were out there a few months ago as backup for Hardcore Honey’s assassination of Kim Jong-un, and they brought the technology back with them.”

“Kim Jong-un..? I thought he was still alive?”

“Oh he is, technically, only he is now the Kim Jong-un belonging to the American and British governments, rather than the homegrown dictator who was in charge before.”

“It sounds like there’s a lot I don’t know about the world,” Amber replied with a chuckle.

“Indeed,” the car replied. “I have narrowed down Ryan’s location, by the way. I can now say with some level of certainty that he is within a five mile radius of Alston, Cumbria. Come off the A1 at Newton Aycliffe. Alston should be signposted from there.”

“How long are we talking?”

“Twenty minutes, roughly, to the A68, and then a further twenty-two minutes to Alston. By the time we hit the A68 I should have Ryan’s location down to a radius of one hundred yards.”

“Right you are,” she replied with a smile, revelling in the fact that within an hour she would have rescued Smithie from the Amazons. “If you can find anything out about what I’m going to be walking into, too, that would be rather lovely, Harry.”

“I shall see what I can do for you, Amber,” the vehicle replied with something that resembled a computerised chuckle as accompaniment. “For now though, would you care for a little music whilst I run some numbers?”

“Sure, what do you have?”

“Anything you like. I have access to the entire Phonographic Performance Limited database, which means that I can legally play any song ever recorded.”

“In that case, how about some late nineties feel good indie?”

“Your wish is my command.” Seconds later a guitar riff kicked in over Harry’s speakers, followed half a bar later by a bass arpeggio. A tight snare and open hats joined in after three bars and at the start of the fifth, Chris Helme’s soft, unassuming vocals entered the fray.

“I have him,” Harry said after a few tracks and a little over one hundred miles that had zipped by at high speed. “There is a small industrial park towards the north end of the town. His signal is coming from the ‘L’ shaped building at the south end of that.”

“Nicely done, Harry. Do we have an ETA?”

“Fifteen minutes, give or take,” the vehicle replied. “Should I take over driving duties so that you have time to prepare yourself?”

“All right,” she replied. “Step on it, Harry.”

Harry did just that, and covered the remaining few miles in eleven minutes. He pulled to an easy halt at the end of the road that led to the industrial park, and popped his boot.

“Get what you need,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for you when you bring Ryan out.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Amber replied as she opened the door and exited the vehicle. “You really are a star.”

“Don’t tell anyone, else they’ll all want a piece of me.”

Amber chuckled as she made her way quickly around to the open boot. “With an arse like yours, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Oh shush, you’ll make me blush.”

“Can’t believe I’m flirting with a damn car,” Amber muttered under her breath. There was no doubt about it though, Harry was definitely a sexy car.

Shaking her head slowly, she unzipped the hold-all and took a moment to look inside. It did not take her long to reach a decision. The first thing she took was a sword, memories that were not her own telling her that it was a katana. Instinctively she went to sheath it at her back and was surprised to discover that the catsuit apparently came equipped with housing to make such a thing possible, which was odd because as far as she could remember, the item of clothing was made from a single piece of leather.

Shrugging, she returned her attention to the hold-all and took out two Glock 18′s and again acting on instinct, slotted them into the waiting leather holsters at her hips.

The final item she took was a sawn-off shotgun, holding it in her right hand as she slammed Harry’s boot shut with her left.

“Be careful, Amber,” Harry said as she made her way down his right flank. “And by the by, do try not to slam my boot quite so hard next time. That hurt a tad.”

“Sorry, Harry,” Amber replied with a guilty smile. “Wish me luck.”

“Aye,” he replied as she made her way quickly up the road towards the small industrial park. “Best of luck, kid. Best of luck.”

***

The road was lined with a chain link fence through which trees and shrubs jutted, in what was clearly the local council’s failed attempt to make the industrial area more aesthetically pleasing. On the opposite side of the road was Alston train station, served by the South Tynedale Railway. The north of England was heavily industrialised for the most part, but even so there was a fair amount of open countryside dotted with towns and villages, market towns and isolated farms. Amber supposed that it was not too bad a thing to make Alston appear appealing to any visitors arriving by rail because at the end of the day, the town itself was rather lovely, almost quaint, and it was a shame that there was an industrial area, albeit a small one in relation to those of larger towns and cities, at all.

She kept as close to the fence as the protruding branches permitted. When she was about twenty yards from the entrance to the park she stopped dead in her tracks. Someone was waiting, most likely for her, hidden from view in the shrubbery to the right of the road, just beyond the fence.

A sign a few feet in front of her informed her that on certain days, one of the workshops within the industrial park permitted members of the public to come in and engrave their own handmade glass. Amber thought for a second or two that a few days prior, that was the kind of thing that would have interested her a great deal. Now though, she was intent on slipping into the industrial area unnoticed and retrieving Smithie. To do that, she needed to get past what she assumed to be an Amazon on guard.

The fence was a little over seven feet in height yet Amber scaled it easily, and dropped silently to the dirt on the other side. From there she could likely get past the guard without being noticed; technically she had already done so, but she wanted to make sure.

Picking her way through the shrubs and plants, treading carefully so as not to make a sound, she approached the Amazon’s position.

The blonde did not even move as before she had so much as a chance to do so, Amber took hold of her head with both hands and snapped her neck with ease.

The dead Amazon dropped awkwardly to the floor and with a brief check that she was still hidden from view, Amber turned and left her where she fell, keeping to the shrubbery and shadows wherever possible as she made her way towards the ‘L’ shaped building that Harry said housed Ryan.

Movement caught her eye and once again, she stopped dead in her tracks. On the roof of the two-storey building, two Amazons were watching, quite clearly waiting for her arrival just as the guard on the gate had been.

With a level of stealth she had only ever experienced whilst playing Xbox with Adam, something that he invariably did immediately following their drunken fumblings when said encounters occurred at his flat, Amber scaled the side of the building, using window ledges and uneven bricks as well as pipes; anything that she could use as a foothold or a handhold sufficed and within half a minute she was upon the roof.

The Amazons both had their backs to her but they were positioned a good thirty feet apart, giving them an excellent all round view of the entire parking area and loading bay.

She caught sight of a knife stashed in the belt of the Amazon closest to her as it glinted in the moonlight, and she realised exactly what it was that she needed to do. Leaping from the ledge that ran around the edge of the roof Amber broke into a run, her footfalls light as she charged towards the Amazon.

With frightening speed she took the knife from the blonde’s belt whilst she simultaneously swept her legs. She kept low as she turned and threw the knife towards the second Amazon who had thus far failed to notice that anything was amiss. That was the way it remained, too, for the knife embedded itself into the side of her neck and as Amber brought her boot down upon the throat of the blonde whose knife she had stolen, applying as much pressure as she could until she heard a satisfying crack and squelch combination, the second blonde fell to the rooftop with blood spilling around the embedded knife and gurgling from her mouth.

There did not appear to be any roof access, at least none that Amber could see so with a shrug, she walked to the edge of the building and dropped to the ground below. She landed upon her feet with her knees slightly bent, much to the surprise of the pair of Amazons standing guard at the door.

“Evening,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Is Ryan here?”

She blocked the attempted punch from the Amazon on her left whilst kicking out at the one on her right, thus preventing her from reaching what appeared to be quite the bastard looking gun. Grasping the arm of one between her hands and the neck of the other between her feet Amber leapt and twisted her body in such a way that she flipped both women over and they landed on their backs upon the paving slabs.

As quick as you like, she drew the glocks and fired both in unison, straight into the Amazons’ skulls.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then, shall I?”

She turned, leaving the dead blondes where they were spewing blood and brain matter onto the ground, and entered the building. She was not at all surprised to find that the interior was in darkness. She was surprised, however, to find Smithie directly before her in the foyer, strapped to a chair with what appeared to be leather straps and a strip of duct tape across his mouth. Behind him, with her hands resting upon his shoulders, standing at what Amber guessed was a mightily impressive six feet and five inches, was an Amazon much larger than she had thus far encountered.

“You wouldn’t be the Amazon Queen by any chance?” she asked, completely ignoring Smithie for a moment. He was alive, that was what mattered but before she made any further attempt to rescue him, Amber knew that she needed to take care of the leggy, busty blonde.

“I’m afraid the Queen isn’t here right now but she does send her kindest regards and apologies that she is unable to be here in person,” the blonde replied in tones more sarcastic than those found in a Mancunian soap opera. “But worry not, pet. I’m quite well versed in killing Honeys myself.”

“Is that a fact?” Amber asked, a mock-impressed expression upon her face. “Well in that case I should probably take my leave. I mean, if you’re so certain that you’re able to kill little old me, then why would I stick around?”

She turned as if to leave via the door through which she had come but stopped, having turned through roughly ninety degrees.

“There is just one thing,” she said, turning her head back towards Smithie and the Amazon. “You say you’re well versed in killing Honeys, correct?”

“Yes indeed,” the Amazon replied, smiling proudly. “In fact, little girl, I was part of the squad who took out the last of your line. I only wish I had pulled the trigger myself.”

“So you have killed Hardcore Honey,” said Amber, doing as good a job as she could at not letting her anger show, despite the fact that she could feel it rising up inside her like a caged animal, begging to be set free.

“Two, actually.”

“Oh, right...” Amber rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m gonna’ go out on a limb though, and guess that you shot both, yes?”

“Well, yes. I may be an Amazon but I’m not stupid. Only the Amazon Queen would ever consider going up against Hardcore Honey in hand to hand combat.”

Before saying another word, Amber glanced at Ryan and winked, knowing full well that by the way his eyes widened, he knew exactly what that wink meant.

“Well the thing of it is, pet,” said Amber, quite deliberately. “I’m not actually a Honey.”

“No?” the Amazon asked with her eyebrow cocked, and then as it slowly dawned upon her what Amber meant, her face went white.

“Aye that’s right,” Amber replied with an accompanying smirk. “I’m Hardcore Honey, bitch!”

Amber charged at the Amazon as she backed away from Ryan, drawing her sword as she stumbled backwards. Amber dove over Smithie, drawing her own weapon as she did so, and then the foyer echoed with the clash of steel upon steel. The Amazon was no real match for Hardcore Honey and it was not at all long before Amber had the upper hand. Much to her surprise though, the blonde laughed as she lay there upon her back with the tip of Amber’s katana at her throat.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” the Amazon replied, gulping extremely carefully so as not to expand her throat too much, lest she finish the job for Amber. “It’s just, well... have a look for yourself.”

Amber followed the blonde’s gaze up towards the ceiling on her right and saw something, an absolutely humongous something, sitting up in the corner where walls and ceiling met. It was the ugliest creature Amber had ever laid her two eyes upon; tentacles, multiple legs, and what appeared to be an incredibly sharp pair of teeth.

She did not want to take her eyes off the creature but she did. She needed to get Ryan out of there as quickly as she could, hopefully without disturbing the... the... whatever the Hell it was.

“That would be a juvenile Rah’k,” the blonde said. “And don’t worry, his bite is most definitely as painful as it looks.”

“A juvenile? It’s huge!”

“You just wait until you see them when they’re fully grown,” the Amazon replied, scooting in reverse on her bum and back until she was well out of reach of Amber’s blade. “Not that you will ever see that though, because I’m fairly certain that junior there is pretty damn hungry.”