Climatic Climacteric Omnibus

by L. B. Carter

  “Oh,” Sirena gasped.

  “What? Don’t tell me you forgot about the Internet as well as blocking out all memories of me,” Jen joked.

  “I forgot,” Sirena tittered excitedly, “about this.”

  Henley dropped the TV channel list and spun around, watching the girl pull a phone from her borrowed pocket.

  Jen sat up and edged forward, turning stern instantly, her eyes fixated on Sirena’s hands with fear like she held a rattlesnake. “How do you have that? You were in a hospital gown.”

  Sirena shrugged. “It was in the car.”

  “Give me that.” Jen whipped it from her palm, standing, struggling to snap it in half, her face screwed up. When that didn’t work, she threw it on the floor and stomped.

  “Here, let me.” Henley swiped it from the floor between bashings and turned away while she easily crushed the device, making reasonable grunting sounds to accompany the movement.

  “Sure, but I’m not sure you can—” Jen’s sentence trailed off when Henley presented the pieces, chucking them in the trash.

  “Technology is easily traceable.” Henley knew her tone was harsh, but now was not a time for gentle teaching.

  “But it was in the car. If they can trace the car, they can trace the phone. What difference does it make?” Sirena said.

  “Something with a signal is easier to find by satellite,” Henley explained, pulling on her innermost cache of patience. The girl had grown up in a lab. It wasn’t her fault. She was essentially programmed; it was the fault of the scientist behind her development for not including that information in her programming. “Didn’t you tell her not to bring anything?” Henley shot at Jen.

  “She didn’t have anything to bring,” Jen exclaimed.

  “I didn’t bring this; I found it,” Sirena argued. “It’s not tied to me.”

  “It is now,” Henley disagreed.

  A knock sounded at the door, and they all froze, their blame-tossing halted. Three pairs of wide eyes shot to the trash can, and then the door, and then each other.

  They were too late. As much as Buster had accused Henley of endangering them, it was the one they were all trying to protect who got them caught. And while he was out getting food. He wouldn’t be wrangled with the rest of them.

  But BSTU wouldn’t knock, Henley reasoned. Her voice was high and too weak when she called out, “Who is it?”

  There was no answer. She hadn’t been loud enough to be heard. Or else someone who didn’t want to answer stood on the other side of the door.

  Henley swallowed as Jen slowly got to her feet, still watching the entrance. She whacked Sirena in the face again with the pillow. Thankfully the girl was good at staying silent. Henley made shushing eyes at Jen.

  “It’s me,” came a masculine voice when no one said anything further.

  Buster. Probably. Right? “Who’s me?”

  “Buster.”

  BSTU couldn’t fake the loathing and impatience in that tone. It was him. “How can I trust you?” Henley couldn’t help but enjoy making him wait outside.

  “You call me the Bus,” he threw out as evidence.

  Henley grinned. She had managed to hold up the Bus. That was impressive, she allowed privately in thought to herself. “BSTU would know that. It was common gossip. Do you think I’m stupid?” The last question came out a little slicker than intended. It had been bothering her since he started ordering her around and refusing to explain things, inferring she couldn’t handle it or understand what was going on. Perhaps he believed women weren’t as capable. She glared at the door, insulted.

  “You punched me in the stomach a few hours ago.”

  Henley felt immediately better.

  Jen stifled a laugh, slapping a hand over her mouth.

  Sirena gave a thumbs up.

  The feeling of kinship rose again. “Don’t mention the phone,” she mouthed at the other girls, pointing toward the bin.

  They both nodded back.

  “That was on video,” Henley retaliated at the Bus. “Tell me why I’m here and maybe I’ll let you in.” She finally had something to use as bribery. He wanted to get in. She wanted information.

  “I’ll eat all this food myself.”

  “Shrimp,” Sirena mumbled. Henley didn’t know if she was just announcing what she lusted after. Henley wasn’t sure seafood would be prevalent at a fast-food joint.

  Henley screwed up her face, annoyed he’d worked around her tactic. He had something to withhold from them in return. So much for that attempt. Her eyes darted to the papers on the desk she’d been sorting through. “I can order room service.”

  “Risky.”

  “Oh, let him in,” Jen whispered to Henley. “He’s a sitting duck out there and the only one who knows where we’re heading.”

  “And I’m hungry,” Sirena piped up.

  So was Henley. It was clear he was outmaneuvering her stalling efforts anyway.

  With an eyeroll, Jen shoved in front of Henley, unlatching the door.

  “No, don’t. I need—” Henley darted back over, relatching it so they could open it only ajar first, to check.

  “Oh, get out of the way, I’m starving.” Jen pushed Henley aside.

  Stumbling back, Henley’s gaze fell to the second bed. Disquiet and discomfort battled within her, a much squirmier feeling than the dread of being discovered by BSTU. Henley remorsefully and unceremoniously watched the door open to her bedmate, anger at him flaring to cover the distaste for her newest predicament.

  Chapter Four

  Ace chose an array of items on the menu outside the drive-thru that looked the most caloric and nutritious. It was uncertain when next they could detour for food. This stop was merely incidental.

  When a woman in a small car pulled up, also observing the screen, he leaned down to her passenger window. “Excuse me.”

  The woman gave a startled shriek, and her hand shot out to cover the baby carrier he hadn’t noticed below his chin.

  “Ace Acton.” He held up a badge.

  She squinted at it only briefly, warily, then asked nervously, her eyes dropping to the sleeping baby, “What can I do for you? Uh, sir?”

  It was clear she hadn’t actually read his credentials. Most people didn’t investigate the world around them with enough detail; they accepted facts too readily and moved on because it was easier than using their brains—unlike Henley, who was too curious for his own good. He could see why BSTU had accepted her into their ranks readily.

  “I need you to put in an order for me and bring it back to me here when you’re through.” He passed over one of the bills Jen had stolen from her mother with the BSTU badge they’d ditched with the truck back in Boston.

  The woman flinched, hesitated, then snatched it from him quickly, shoving his hand away from her child.

  It was a shame Henley couldn’t do all the interactions. However, he was the only one who he was confident he could conceal from any actually observant eyes.

  “I know your plate number,” he warned her to dissuade her from any asinine notion of taking the money and running.

  She nodded jerkily, eyes large. He handed her his list and stepped back to allow her to advance to the teller. He remained in the shadows, around the corner yet within sight of the woman’s mirrors.

  While she waited for his food, he considered their next step.

  It would take at least a day for his mailed note to reach its destination. He had allowed for that in specifying a pick-up time and location. Physical mail impeded his urgency but was much harder to trace and hunt down. Therefore, they had that long to reach the next check point, which was, by his estimate, an eighteen-hour drive. With their pit-stop, he was going to have to recalculate. They couldn’t afford more than a few hours’ wait, just scraping the beginning hours of night. It wasn’t ideal. That distance could easily be made up in seconds with BSTU’s resources. That would put them at the check point about an hour late. With Jen’s driving, they could easily make th
at up with slight speeding, not enough to alert the authorities.

  “Here’s your food.” The woman was handing it to him on foot, having parked her car nearby. He assumed it was an attempt to distance him from her offspring even if she believed his identification enough to acquiesce to his request.

  “Thank you. Keep the change,” he told her, thinking that would assuage her. It wasn’t as disarming as Henley’s smile had been at the post office.

  However, the woman gave a timid quirk of a lip and a faint, “Welcome,” before hurrying to her car, casting furtive glances over her shoulder.

  He waited a few moments for her to get in and feel safe in the metal box, which was, essentially, filled with explosive equipment and had the windows rolled down, before moving. He walked around the building to cross the street farther away.

  Their car was empty when he passed it. Pleased they’d followed his orders, he walked to the door with the necklace on the doorknob that matched the one Sirena had been wearing, assuming it was a signal. Too obvious, but he hadn’t been gone long enough for them to truly siphon attention to their location. He knocked.

  No one answered.

  “It’s me.” He checked over his shoulder, ensuring all was still.

  “Who’s me?”

  “Buster.” He rolled his eyes. Precaution was necessary. However, he doubted BSTU would simply knock.

  “How can I trust you?” It had to be Henley with so many questions and mistrust.

  He sighed. “You call me the Bus.”

  “BSTU would know that. It was common gossip. Do you think I’m stupid?”

  Well, that was unflattering. He hadn’t realized it was universal. “You punched me in the stomach a few hours ago.”

  “That was on video,” she retaliated. “Tell me why I’m here, and maybe I’ll let you in.”

  She definitely wasn’t stupid. Buster tamped down his temper. She was leaving him in the open on the doorstep with her silly game. If BSTU didn’t notice, the motel security might wonder at his intentions. “I’ll eat all this food myself,” he countered, toying back. She had to be hungry. He’d observed her appetite in the cafeteria on occasion.

  “I can order room service.”

  “Risky.”

  There was a pause and some mumbled voices. “No, don’t. I need—”

  “Oh, get out of the way, I’m starving.” Jen popped open the door, un-muffling their disagreement. “Get in here with that grease. There better be enough, or I’m sending you back for more even if you get abducted by BSTU-funded aliens.”

  Ace handed Sirena the locket as he passed her and set the bag on the desk next to the old television. It smelled of mothballs and too much deodorizing fragrance. His allergies perked up, suggesting a heavy presence of dust as well. BSTU had kept that suppressed with its penchant for sterilization. He hadn’t missed it. His eyes began to water and his nose ran.

  “Dang, Hen, you made him cry reminding him of his unheroic moment of weakness.” Jen fished items out of the bag. She too had been a scientist, trained to take in details.

  Ace surreptitiously wiped his leaking orifices on his sleeve.

  “Tears won’t sway me. I demand to know what’s going on here.” Henley stamped her foot. Actually lifted and slammed it onto the stained blue carpet.

  Jen shoved a wrapped sandwich in her hand. “Chill, girl. I think you might be getting a little hangry.”

  “Any fries?” Sirena perked up, nonplussed by all the combat around her.

  Ace was grateful for her dispassionate attitude. He rewarded her with the giant fry container.

  She grinned. Shifting it into her lap, she held out the necklace to Jen, who’d settled behind her against the headboard, legs outstretched. “This is yours.” Sirena’s eyes analyzed the salt grains dotting the golden rods of potato. It wasn’t interest in the fries that held her attention. She was intentionally keeping her chin down. The light that had been in her eyes when he’d handed the food to her had extinguished.

  See? He could read people, too.

  “No. It was a gift. I gave it to Mark, and he gave it to you.” Jen took a greedy bite, moaning in ecstasy.

  Sirena shook her head, her hair falling into the food. Unsanitary. “It wasn’t a gift. It has no meaning for me like it does you. I had thought it belonged to my family but… clearly it belongs to yours.”

  Jen stopped chewing. “It wasn’t a gift?”

  Sirena’s lips were sealed. She tossed the chain onto Jen’s legs.

  It took a moment before Jen leaned over and scooped it up. She held it up, rubbing a thumb over the surface in reverence.

  Humans placed too much sentiment on objects. If Jen wanted to honor her family, she should be more obedient. Instead, she had stolen her mother’s research and left her. Ace couldn’t fathom such a level of disrespect. He would have to be careful with Jen, who easily deserted with such callous disloyalty at the whim of someone new to her who wasn’t blood.

  Jen dipped suspicious eyes back to Sirena. “Thank you,” she whispered sincerely. She stared at it again. “It does represent my family. It was a gift from him in the first place. When I first got to BSTU. I knew he’d been dating my mom for a while, but that was our first chance to be a family when I was finally free from my dad and that shitty little town in the middle of nowhere. Sorry,” she added to Sirena for insulting what had been her town recently too.

  Mark, her mother’s boyfriend and researcher and Jen’s friend, had paid the price.

  Sirena shook her head and began munching the fries now that her hand was alleviated from the jewelry. “It was a peaceful town. That’s what I liked about it.”

  “Yeah, I bet. Your life wasn’t so peaceful before that.” Jen took a chomp and tilted her head, speculating. “Unless you count all the times you were in a medically-induced coma.” The wad of sandwich was wedged in her cheek. Revolting. She pulled the necklace over her head and adjusted her hair while chewing. She swallowed then informed them all, “He told me he wanted me to go out and explore the world.” She grinned at each of them in turn. “Well, here’s to exploring, so to speak.” She shoved the last massive morsel in her mouth, masticating loudly with her mouth open since the portion was so immense.

  Ace turned away in disgust. The action was more than rude; it became a pet peeve of his years ago in direct result of his sister constantly being guilty of speaking while eating at their family meals.

  Henley hadn’t even started eating. She was still standing next to the second bed with a sandwich in her hand, watching thoughtfully. What was she thinking now? She was always thinking, always mediating when discussions became uncomfortable.

  “My family is what drives me too,” she said.

  “Who’d’a thunk? You were so subtle about wanting to contact them at the post office,” Jen gibed sarcastically.

  Henley gave an eye roll, sitting down on the side of the other bed to unwrap her sandwich, holding it in the wax paper.

  That left Ace to perch on the edge of the desk and retrieve another item from the bag. It leaked grease across his fingers. He also kept his hands away from what entered his mouth. He didn’t trust this bathroom to do anything less than aid his griminess.

  “So we know what motivates you two. To a degree.” Jen waved a flippant hand at Sirena, considered it, then flipped it around to noisily lick and suck her fingers.

  Ace frowned, horrified.

  “You’re not really here out of choice. But—” She swung a steely look at Ace. “—Buster hasn’t expressed his reasons for ditching a place that he seemed very comfortable in. That might be our first indication to learn then why he brought you, Hen.”

  These women were more stubborn than any code he’d tried to debug. She reminded Ace of his sister. In fact, it was family that held his reins as well, whether he embraced them or resisted.

  “Maybe he has a secret lover he escaped for,” Jen fabricated. “She lives back where he grew up, and they separated so he could go to school, b
ut then they realized they just couldn’t be apart. It hurt his heart too much, made him cold inside.”

  “He’s cold all right. I don’t know if I’d believe he were capable of having a lover.” Henley continued to appraise Ace, who ate silently, ignoring the conversation as best he could.

  He was aware of time passing. They needed to rest, or at least Jen did as driver, so they could return to the road.

  “All right, a boy scorned, then. Burned by a crush who tossed him aside for a more…” She looked Ace up and down. “…personable man. I’ll grant you that you are pretty big. I can’t tell muscles under that baggy t-shirt and jeans though.” She shrugged.

  Henley held up a finger to interject, politely finishing her bite before responding. She took too long to give her input, and Jen elaborated on her fantasy tale.

  “In fact, he’s probably looking for a rebound. Ooo, or someone to pretend to be his girlfriend to make her jealous and want him back.”

  Henley smirked at Jen then nodded back up to Ace. “A customer in the post office thought we were dating.”

  “And did he refute it?”

  “Not for a moment,” Henley’s eyes held amusement as they locked with Ace’s. “Is that what you meant when you said you need me?”

  Jen chortled. Even Sirena choked on a fry laughing. “Oh boy, maybe we should sleep in the car if these two will be sharing a bed, Sirie.”

  “That won’t be necessary. If your ideas hold any truth, Buster is going to find himself double-burned,” Henley vowed, her mouth going flat and her eyelids narrowing.

  They were all wrong.

  It wasn’t Ace who had ever been burned.

  ◆◆◆

  “If you’re going to remain silent about my questions, the least you could do is keep quiet when I’m trying to sleep.”

  Ace heard the hissed comment with half of his attention, slowly waking up from the rousing shove he’d received to his spine. The pillow barrier between them was no match for Henley’s wrath.

  “’S’going on?” Jen mumbled from the other bed.

  “Just Ace snoring. Go back to sleep,” Henley whispered. “At least some of us should get some rest,” she murmured.