Killing Motives

Excerpt

Killing Motives
Reis Asher © 2025
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Reis

Reis hit the ground as a bullet sank into the car door above their head, missing them by inches. Smashing into the concrete knocked the wind out of their lungs, and they gasped. Recovering quickly, they rolled underneath the vehicle, trying to buy themself a few precious seconds to think. Reis’s heart pounded. Blood roared in their ears, the din of their body complementing the rain hitting the car like a percussion backing track.

So much for gathering evidence. They’d barely ventured a mile into Anver before being fired upon by an unknown sniper. Careless. Reis could hear Edgar telling them it was a bad idea, but they’d pleaded to go on this scouting mission. After receiving a report that the once grand technological powerhouse of Anver was now home to starvation, pestilence, war, and death on a scale befitting the apocalypse, they were determined to see it with their own eyes.

Anver’s people were dying, and Reis felt duty-bound to help. Sitting in relative safety on the other side of the river in Kasyova wasn’t cutting it. A soldier had to take action, not make statements and wish for the best. Fighting was in their blood, trained into them from an early age, and their skills were being tested once again.

Another shot made Reis jerk involuntarily as it shattered a window. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in reverie, with crystalline nuggets of safety glass raining down on the pavement like hail, inches away. Eventually, even the most amateur sniper would find their target, if only with a ricochet. Reis wouldn’t lie here and wait for the enemy to get lucky.

There was no way they could escape without being fired upon, so negotiation was the only option. Reis hoped they were dealing with a scared citizen instead of a mercenary from one of the many military contracting groups divvying up Anver like a pie.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Reis yelled out into the pouring rain. “There’s no need for us to fight. I’m on your side.” They closed their eyes, wondering if their voice carried over the sound of the rain. They were done here if they couldn’t use reason to talk their way out of danger. Their only hope was that their would-be assassin would run out of bullets, and they could make a run for it.

Reis jumped when a response came loud and clear. The sniper was closer to their position than they’d anticipated.

“I saw you emerge from the tunnel. Quit rubbernecking and go back to Kasyova where you belong!” The deep, husky voice held more than a tinge of sadness beneath its anger, and Reis could tell their adversary had been through more in the past year than they cared to consider. They were desperate. That was something Reis could use.

“I just want to talk. We have yet to learn what’s been happening since communications were lost. A flyover can only tell us so much. We need to hear from the people on the ground. People like you,” Reis explained. “I want to help. Please.”

“It’s too late for help. While you sat in your ivory towers, we died. There’s nothing left to save.”

Reis heard sloshing as footfalls kicked up puddles. Strong arms reached under the car and pulled Reis out. They looked up and saw a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard pointing a rifle at their head. All they could do was stay as still as possible, knowing that any sudden move could set off the stranger’s itchy trigger finger.

“Get up,” the man barked.

Reis rolled onto their side and used the car to crawl to their feet. They were wet and miserable, but this was the closest they’d gotten to engaging with a non-hostile in months. They reached out with one mucky hand, and the man grasped it with an equally filthy one and shook firmly. A warmth in his eyes seemed to radiate from beneath his war-weary cynicism, and Reis decided to rely on their gut instinct that this man could be trusted.

“I’m Reis. Reis Asher,” Reis said. “I’m with the Rainbow Bridge. We’re a non-governmental organization focused on helping people trapped here.”

“NGO? Hah, figures. Fucking government wouldn’t risk breaking a nail for Anverites. I thought Tony Anvas was a sad sack of shit, but he was right about one thing—Kasyova never did give a fuck about us.” He wiped the rain from his eyes with a frustrated, nasal grunt. His short black hair had grown out and hung over his eyes. He slicked it back in a motion that said he’d give anything for a decent hairdresser or, failing that, a pair of shears to lop it off himself.

“It’s complicated.” Reis wanted to defend the Kasyovan government, but they were as frustrated with the current stalemate as the stranger seemed to be. The government appeared to have fallen silent, allowing Anver to decay rather than risk a war with one or several of the factions fighting in the civil war—or, more likely, the nations backing them. The Anverite civil war was nothing more than a proxy war that had become a place for the wealthiest nations to air their grievances to one another without risking their citizens or territory.

“It’s not so complicated. Kasyova would have come to our aid if we were still the Twin City-States. They would have rolled the tanks in and stopped Anvas before he could kill the President.” The man sighed. “In the end, none of that matters. We’re way past politics now. All we can do is hope to survive. We take each day at a time, hoping that the big money will lose interest sooner or later and let a faction win. We don’t even care who at this point. Let it be the most fanatical separatist blowhards; I don’t give a shit. I want it to be over so we can start to rebuild. I’m Zach Fisher, by the way. I used to be a computer programmer. Now I’m just an idiot who knows a language nobody here speaks. I wish I’d become a doctor—we still need those.”

“My fiancé is a programmer,” Reis explained. “His name is Ed. We still need your skills—perhaps more than ever. You might not believe it, but we’re fighting for you. Maybe not with guns or tanks, but we’re fighting. Would you believe it if I told you that Tony Anvas is still alive, sunning it up on a private island? The assassination was a hoax. Without hackers, the world would still be hunting me down for his murder.”

“If I hadn’t heard your name before, I’d write you off as a conspiracy nut.” Zach spat. “But even if you’re telling the truth and not spewing some ‘truther’ bullshit, it’s not like it matters. This war isn’t about ideology anymore. The sides are all the same. It’s about foreign actors settling their grudges while padding their bottom line. I’m sure the world reacted to the coup with horror, right? Of course, they didn’t. It’s just one more war in a country they’ve never visited and can’t even place on a map.”

Reis nodded. Zach wasn’t wrong, and it hurt to feel cynicism ring true. “Come back to Kasyova with me. I’m sure there’s a lot you can tell us about what’s going on here. It’s been a while since we’ve encountered anyone willing to hold their fire long enough to talk.”

“It’s a little late to launch a rescue mission now. As you said before—it’s complicated.” Zach looked down at the ground, and Reis got the sense there was something he wasn’t telling them.

“Do you have a family? They can come, too, if you’d like. We want to help the people on this side, Zach. Let me help you.”

“I can’t accept your help.” Zach turned on his heel. “A year ago, I could have used you—but now. No. Just go back to your pretty little city on the other side of the river and forget you ever saw me.”

“I can’t do that,” Reis said. “I was born in Anver. Before the crisis, I was a Bureau agent. The citizens of Anver are my responsibility.”

“It’s been a year since the coup. A whole fucking year of hell on earth. A year of waiting for help that never came. Where have you been? What took you so fucking long to cross a three-mile-wide river with a tunnel underneath?”

Reis lowered their gaze. They’d been recovering. Finding themself. Putting their own oxygen mask on before they could assist the person next to them. It was hard to look at Zach—one of those left behind—and tell him the truth, but if they were to have any chance at success, they had to be completely honest.

“I was—there were some things I had to take care of. Hormones. Surgery. PTSD from the last few times I’ve been in fear for my life. I wasn’t exactly in a condition to scout out a war zone. I shouldn’t even be here now. I’d much rather be living in my ivory tower, planning my wedding, but I’m not. I wasn’t here for you a year ago, but I’m here now.”

“You’re trans?” Zach raised one eyebrow. “Heh. Go figure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reis asked, raising their defenses. It had been a long time since they’d encountered phobia of any kind, but who knew what had happened to Anverite society since being cut off.

“It means you ain’t the only one.” Zach kicked a puddle. “Thank fuck most of the effects of T are non-reversible—but not all.” He shook his head. “I’m forgetting my manners. It’s been so long since I needed ’em. Pronouns?”

“They/them,” Reis elaborated. “I’m transmasc.”

Zach nodded. “Just masc here, all the way. Fine, I’ll come with you—but I need to get something first. Back at my house, right up the hill here.” Zach led Reis across a pock-marked street. Weeds pushed through the tarmac, breaking the road where grenades and IEDs hadn’t done the job. Reis followed Zach up crumbling steps to a decrepit house that was once a jewel of suburbia. It was only a few miles from where Reis and Edgar had shared a home once upon a time. Reis had often wondered if it still stood and what state it was in now.

“This was your house before the war?” Reis asked.

Zach nodded. “Yeah. My wife and I lived here. Now it’s just me.”

“I’m sorry,” Reis said.

“Don’t misunderstand. She isn’t dead. She left me for some prick who could offer her the food and protection I couldn’t. I should be bitter about it, but she wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t protect her. Couldn’t even protect myself.” Zach unlocked the front door and hustled inside. “Now I find out if you’re here to help me.”

Reis heard it, then. A baby’s cry echoed from upstairs. Zach’s eyes narrowed, and he stomped upstairs. The child’s screams fell silent. Reis kicked off their muddy boots and climbed the creaking stairs, not wanting to soil the dirty carpet any more than it already was. Decrepit or not, this was someone’s home. The door to the upstairs bedroom was open, and Zach’s binder lay on the bed. He held the baby to his chest, nursing it. Reis looked away, feeling like they were intruding on a private moment.

They hadn’t felt dysphoria since their top surgery, but there it was, loud and clear, and judging from Zach’s look, he felt it every time he fed the tiny infant in his arms. Reis backed up and waited outside until Zach emerged.

“I can’t imagine how hard this has to be for you.” Reis blinked back tears, suddenly angry that Zach was forced to be here, birthing and nursing a baby alone against his will.

“You get it. I’ll go with you on one condition,” Zach said. “You find a good home for her because I can’t do this anymore. I need to finish my transition. This should never have happened in the first place. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but I couldn’t get T after the war started and…” He leaned against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, gathering his composure.

Reis let him be for a moment, swallowing the lump in their throat at the nightmarish scenario. “Of course, we’ll help you. Adoption services, transition services, therapy… The Kasyovan government will fund all of it. They’ve been cutting the Rainbow Bridge checks on the down-low this past year because they do care. They can’t show it because their hands are tied by superpowers threatening to invade if they intervene in Anver’s ‘efforts for independence.’”

Zach sighed. “Whatever. I don’t care about politics. Just get me out of this hellhole. Please. Get me to where I need to be, Reis. If you can’t take us both, take her. Find her the family she needs.”

“You’re both coming. Pack the things you need. We need to move out before nightfall.”

“What about your contact?” Zach asked.

“They didn’t show up at the rendezvous,” Reis explained. “I’m going to assume they’re dead. Let me know what you need to pack, and we’ll get going.” They took a deep breath, steadying themself on shaky legs before muttering, “Fuck. How did things get so messed up in just a year?” They grabbed a bag and started packing things Zach laid out on the bed. Most of it was for the baby—Zach had done an incredible job, given his impossible situation. The child slept soundly, oblivious to the fact that she was going on a journey very soon.

“Reis, come in.”

Reis started as their two-way radio came to life. They’d agreed to use the frequency sparingly since there was no way to keep the channel private from listening ears.

“Go ahead,” Reis replied.

“Are you on your way? It’s getting dark outside.” Edgar’s voice was heavily tinged with concern, and it was comforting. Reis wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. They smiled wanly, realizing transition had changed everything. Once, it had been easy to put their life on the line. Now, with so much to return home to, it was hard to walk through the fire and pretend it didn’t affect them.

“Everything’s fine,” Reis said, not wanting to go into too much detail. “I met someone, but not the contact. I’ll be coming back with company this time.”

A tiny sigh carried over the frequency. “Reis…are you sure that’s wise?”

“Yes. Trust me on this. You’ll understand when you meet him. Heading back to the rendezvous in five. Reis out.”

“He sounds reluctant.” Zach paused his packing for a moment. “You’re not supposed to bring people back, are you?”

“It wasn’t the goal of this mission, no, but we do help people escape Anver. There haven’t been many non-hostile survivors lately. I think Edgar’s just surprised and probably a little paranoid. Hackers, you know?”

Zach laughed. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. When you know how computers work, you understand their flaws and know they can’t be trusted to keep you secure. When you see inside information that confirms a conspiracy, it tells you the same thing about people.”

“Right.” Reis nodded. “Ed was right—we should move soon. I like the cover of darkness in some ways, but I know it’s unsafe after dark.” They slung a backpack over their shoulders and carried a separate shoulder bag, leaving their gun hand free in case they needed to draw their pistol quickly. Zach picked up the baby with care and held her close to him.

“What’s her name?” Reis asked.

“I didn’t—I haven’t named her,” Zach admitted. “That probably sounds callous, doesn’t it?”

Zach didn’t wait for a response. He pushed past Reis into the hallway and padded down the stairs with the child in his arms. Reis followed, trying to find words that felt right as they settled into a manageable pace that could accommodate their load.

Reis shrugged. They were indifferent to children and sensed Zach felt the same way. “It’s not insensitive at all. What’s in a child’s name, anyway? If you’re not keeping her, it makes no sense to give her a name.”

Zach nodded but said nothing. The rain had mostly abated, but the air was thick and heavy with moisture, making it feel like they were breathing liquid. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, giving way to darkness.

Zach said little on their long walk. Reis made a couple of aborted attempts at conversation before deciding it was a wasted effort. The noise only compromised their attempts at staying off the radar. The city was eerily quiet—too quiet, in Reis’s opinion. The hair on the back of their neck stood on end as they ventured through the rubble of houses and streets Reis used to know like the back of their hand. It looked nothing like the Anver they remembered, disfigured and divided by the city’s various factions.

“The tunnel’s in this house,” Reis said, leading Zach into the derelict building. After the old tunnel entrance had been destroyed, they’d had to dig the tunnel in a different direction and choose a new neighborhood to house the exit. It had taken months of precious time, and they’d been sure they’d been discovered on multiple occasions. It was bold to reuse the tunnel after its dramatic compromise and collapse, but sometimes, hiding in plain sight was the best option. It was better than trying to make the river crossing, a sitting duck in a boat for the three-mile crossing. “How did you know about it, anyway?”

“Rumor. Word on the street is that help comes from this way via a tunnel under the river, but nobody has ever seen it first-hand, so I thought it was hearsay. Go figure, though—there it is.” Zach peered into the tunnel as Reis lifted the metal trapdoor in the abandoned house’s basement. Reis ushered for Zach to go first. They didn’t feel safe until they pulled the metal door down over the entrance again. Only then did they allow themselves a sigh of relief.

“Hard part’s done,” Reis said. “Now we walk for three miles. We’ll emerge in Kasyova. A car will be waiting for us.” They adjusted the heavy shoulder bag and took the lead. The immediate danger had passed, but the dysphoria triggered by what they’d seen lingered like a dark shadow on a sunny day. They saw themself if they’d stayed in Anver, trapped on an island that had returned to savagery. It was a grim reminder that the veneer of civilization could be stripped away from even the most advanced nations, given the right conditions.

Reis could easily be Zach, pregnant and forced to endure a body that betrayed them more and more each day, and they shuddered, knowing how close they’d come to staying in Anver out of guilt. If it hadn’t been for Edgar reminding them they deserved a shot at happiness, no matter what was happening in the world…

No. There was no use dwelling on it. Reis cut off their dark thoughts and continued through the tunnel, concentrating on the pain of the heavy shoulder bag strap digging into their shoulder to ground themself. That they could endure.

In Zach’s position, they doubted they could have been as brave as he was, and they didn’t pause to think about the other options. It wasn’t worth considering the path not traveled. They had to focus on what came next.