Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

Chapter 1

By the time Caleb Rusk realized who Louis Collins was, the street had already begun to close. It happened outside the north entrance of Vesper Row, where Sacramento kept its vices licensed and supervised. The old brick alleys had been rebuilt with smoked-glass fronts, brass trim, and low amber light. The signs stayed small. Regulars already knew which doors were theirs.

Louis came out beneath a black awning with one hand in his coat pocket and the other resting lightly at Maya’s waist. She was older than him by several years, with dark hair pinned loosely at the nape of her neck, dark red lipstick, and a black dress slit all the way up to her waist. The heels were high. She made them look easy. They moved together like they weren’t finished with the evening. Louis said something low and amused, and she laughed, her shoulder brushing his as they walked.

Louis liked that about her. He liked the way she looked in the dark, the way she smelled, the way her body answered before her mouth did. She knew what not to ask. She had a boyfriend, of course—some broker downtown who probably thought she was at a friend’s place right now—but Louis didn’t care about that. He cared that she had been good company. And she had known when to stop talking.

“Can I call you a car?” he asked, his voice lazy.

Maya smiled. “I’m good. I’ll walk. Clears the head.”

“Let me walk you back, then.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He grinned slightly. She let him guide her down the street, past the last of the lit doorways where strangers glanced and looked away fast.

Then Caleb Rusk stepped out of the shadows. He was big, built like a dockworker who’d spent a decade throwing crates. His shirt was open far at the throat. His blond hair had been combed with money and ruined by sweat. A watch shone bright at his wrist. He had a drink in one hand and had already spilled some of it down his sleeve as he stopped in front of Maya.

Caleb looked her up and down, then noticed Louis’s hand at her waist.

“Maya,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

She went very still. Her hand tightened at Louis’s side for a moment before she let go and stepped back. “Caleb. What are you doing here?”

Caleb grinned, still pleased with himself. “Same as you, I guess. Out. Having fun.”

“Right.” Her voice had gone thin. “Well, it was just a drink. I’m heading back now.”

Caleb took another step, blocking her path. Then he looked at Louis. “Who’s this?”

“A friend.” Louis kept his voice casual.

“Friend, huh.” Caleb’s eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting as he stared at Louis, then back at Maya. “Didn’t know you were into kids.”

Louis let out a breath, half laugh, half irritation. “You’re drunk, man. Move on.” He put a hand on Maya’s elbow, tried to guide her around Caleb, but Caleb shifted, blocking them both.

“I’m talking to her.” He pointed a finger at Louis. “You can wait your turn.”

Maya’s voice tightened. “Caleb. Stop it. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not.” He grabbed her wrist. “We’re not done talking.”

Louis’s hand left her back. “Take your hand off her.”

Caleb turned his head. “Or what?”

They were close enough now for Louis to smell the sour liquor on him. A vein stood out in Caleb’s throat.

Louis stepped into the space between them. “I said. Let go of her. And go home.”

Caleb let go of Maya and shoved Louis hard enough to knock him back a step. Louis caught himself. “Wrong move.”

Caleb laughed. “What are you gonna do, huh?”

“You should have stopped at drunk.” Louis did not raise his voice.

Maya stepped forward. “Louis, don’t.”

Two men appeared behind Caleb, both dressed like they’d walked out of the same overpriced bar, both looking like they were ready for trouble. One of them cracked his knuckles. The other leaned in, muttering, “You want us to take care of him?”

Caleb smirked, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah. Teach him some manners.”

“You are embarrassing the capital.” Louis looked at Caleb, then at the men behind him. “Get out of my way.”

“Make me,” Caleb said. “Do you know who I am?”

Louis tilted his head. “Why would I care?”

Caleb’s smile tightened. “You’re gonna wish you did. I know people in this city. I can end you.”

Louis almost laughed. “That’s cute. You think you know people.”

“I’m Caleb Rusk. My uncle is Gavin Rusk. He owns half this block.” Caleb gestured with his free hand toward the lit doorways, his drink sloshing in the other. “So unless you want to spend the rest of your life broke and forgotten, you’ll get on your knees and apologize right now.”

“Tell me about him,” Louis said, his voice bored. “Gavin Rusk. I’m interested.”

“Who the fuck are you to ask me questions?” Caleb’s voice rose. “I’m telling you to kneel.”

Louis yawned. “Last chance, Caleb. Take your friends and go away.”

Caleb threw the glass aside. It shattered against the curb. He stepped toward Louis until a click sounded above them. Caleb looked up. A security drone hovered over the street, its narrow front housing already angled at his chest.

“What the—”

The taser fired before Caleb finished the word. Two wires snapped into his chest. His body locked, and he dropped hard onto the pavement, limbs jerking.

Maya stepped back. Louis turned to the other two men, and they were already raising their hands. One of them said, “Shit—shit, man, we didn’t know—”

The north end of the block sealed first. Black barriers rose from the pavement. At the south end, an armored vehicle cut across the traffic lane. Another turned in behind it, blocking the side street. Their tires hissed over the asphalt. Spotlights came on and swept across the storefronts. The first Dominion Guards in dark tactical armor and helmets came out of the armored vehicle with rifles up before it fully stopped. Two guards covered Caleb on the ground. Another pair pointed the guns toward the men behind.

“Hands up! Now!”

The two men with Caleb dropped to their knees immediately. Maya stood frozen, staring at Louis like she was seeing him for the first time. The guards surrounded them in seconds. One of them stepped toward Louis, voice calm and deferential through the faceplate.

“Sir. Are you all right?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah. Fine.” He looked at Maya, then at Caleb, who was still twitching on the ground, gasping for air. “Do what you need to do.”

Across the street, a woman in a silver jacket lifted her phone with both hands, still filming as the spotlights swept past her.

A Dominion Guard turned toward her.

“Hand over the device.” His voice was flat.

“I’m allowed to film in public!” she called back in defiance.

“EMP target designated.” The guard didn’t raise his voice. “Surrender the device, or it will be disabled.”

The woman hesitated. Then another guard threw a small black object toward her. It hit the pavement and exploded in a silent pulse of light. Her phone went dead. She stared at it, horrified.

Louis sighed. He stepped away from the scene, toward the armored vehicle. “Get her home safely,” he said, nodding at Maya. “Make sure she’s not bothered.”

The guard nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Caleb was being dragged to his feet, his body still shaking, his face slick with sweat. One of the guards cuffed his hands behind his back. Caleb finally managed to speak, his voice hoarse. “Who the fuck are you?”

“He’s Louis Collins,” the guard said. “And you’re in a lot of trouble.”

The name hit Caleb like another shock. His eyes went wide, then terrified. “Mr. Collins! I—I didn’t know! I didn’t mean—”

Louis didn’t look back. He climbed into the passenger side of the lead vehicle and shut the door. The driver was already pulling away, accelerating smoothly into the street.

“Get me to Pacific Hall,” Louis said, leaning his head back against the seat.

“Yes, Mr. Collins.”

His phone lit in his hand. Breaking news from Voice of Pacific.

PHILIP BOURBON APPOINTED FOREIGN MINISTER

Supreme President Constantine Collins names exiled monarch of Navarre to lead Dominion foreign policy

Louis stared at the headline. The thumbnail showed his father beneath the garden lights of Pacific Hall, one hand raised, smiling as if he had arrived late to a dinner party he owned. Philip Bourbon stood beside him in a dark suit, silver at his temples, composed and faintly severe.

Another message came in from his mother.

Where are you?

Louis typed with one thumb.

On my way.

The car accelerated toward the center of the city, where the lights burned brighter, and the streets were empty of anyone who did not belong.