Fergus sat in a third chair and watched the two. The juxtaposition of the large man and the diminutive child was visually entertaining, and their banter even more so. Annabelle had learned much in her nine and a half years on earth.
“What do you have to offer me? I’m doing pretty well here on my own,” she said.
“Earlier you said you were hungry.” Lester’s sweat-soaked face gleamed in the dying firelight. It was hot in the room, but the stoic man was also in pain from his gunshot wound, inflicted by the child before him. There was not a trace of animosity, though; in fact the opposite was true. Fergus could sense that Lester felt a fatherly protectiveness for the girl and hoped to bring her with them when they returned to Tequesta the next day.
“That was just to trick you out of food. It’s easier to get it from nice people – when you can find them – than it is to hunt squirrels. I’ve gotten deer, too. They’re a cinch to shoot but harder to gut and clean. Mom never showed me how to do that part before she died, but I figured it out myself.”
“A child can’t grow up healthy on squirrel and deer meat alone. You need fruits and vegetables and milk and vitamins.”
She gave him a slow blink. “It’s the end of the world. That kind of stuff isn’t around any longer.”
“Ah, but you’re wrong, child. Back home we have a large vegetable garden, several fields of grain crops, and five Holsteins...those are the cute black-and-white cows. Do you remember what milk tastes like?” He leaned in close to the little girl and said in an even deeper voice, “When was the last time you ate fresh cheese?”
“You never mentioned you had dairy, you magnificent bastard,” Fergus said. Saliva flooded his mouth at the thought of cheese that had not been dehydrated or powdered, or worse, canned and labeled as something called ‘nacho’ and which smelled vaguely of vomit.
“Mind the naughty words,” Lester replied without looking at him. He was focused on his mission to convince the child to come with them.
“We have butter, too. And bread to smear it on.”
The golden eyes opened wide. “I don’t believe you. Nobody has those things anymore. There’s no electricity to make the ovens hot. You can’t cook bread if you don’t have hot ovens.”
“Tsk, tsk. First, yes we do have electricity. Second, how do you think ancient people, and people from even a hundred years ago who lived in the country, baked their bread?”
Annabelle thought about that for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I guess they would have used those old ovens that you build a fire in. Is that right?” She might have been a third-grade student eager to please her teacher.
“Yes, but there are many other methods that people have utilized for thousands of years. Do you like to learn? Did you enjoy school?”
A vigorous nod of the blond curls. “I loved school. I only got to first grade before everyone got sick and died. I wish I had gotten to go longer. I’ve been reading, though. There are lots of books here.” She gestured to a wood-paneled wall lined with bookshelves. “But I have to look up a lot of the words in the dictionary. They’re grown-up books. Not kid books.”
“If you come with us, I will be your teacher. I will teach you any subject you want to learn...mathematics, science, history.”
“Will you teach me Taekwondo and how to use other kinds of guns besides mine? I think killers need to know that stuff.”
Lester’s eyes glistened in the firelight. Fergus watched, waiting for him to answer.
A deep sigh came from the broad chest. “I will teach you Krav Maga – even better for killing than Taekwondo – under one condition: you must spend an equal amount of time studying subjects that don’t involve killing people.”
Annabelle didn’t hesitate. “I’m in. When do we leave?”
An hour later the child was curled up on a sofa sound asleep. It seemed he and Lester had passed muster; she felt safe enough to sleep in their presence. In light of the little girl’s well-honed survival instincts, Fergus wondered if she sensed their true natures – their inherent goodness. Perhaps the child had a smidgen of scythen. He would put that to the test as soon as possible.
Lester lay on the floor, cushioning his shorn head with a pillow; no furniture in the room could accommodate his bulk.
Fergus had chosen a sofa near the window they had crawled through to enter Annabelle’s sanctuary. It was still open, allowing an anemic breeze into the stifling, smelly room. A nearly full moon shone through the filmy glass, providing enough light to see the rhythmic rising and falling of the tiny chest and the large one. He closed his eyes and sent out his scythen.
~~~
Fergus: Are you awake, my love?
Amelia: About time I heard from you. I was getting worried.
Fergus: I have had the most interesting twenty-four hours. I am in the company of a philosophizing giant and a tiny, cheeky assassin.
Amelia: You’re safe?
Fergus: I am.
Amelia: You’re missing all the action here in the Colony. In addition to the prophesized hurricane, which many don’t want to prepare for, our resident killer has advanced beyond felines and taken a human life – Howard, the obnoxious man nobody liked.
Fergus: Oh, dear. By what method?
Amelia: Poison.
Fergus: Fascinating!
Amelia: I knew you would say that. I don’t share your enthusiasm.
Fergus: What’s to be done about it?
Amelia: I don’t know. That’s for Rosemary and Lucas to decide. I suspect Lucas will use some kind of barbaric interrogation technique.
Fergus: He may surprise you and catch our killer.
Amelia: Or he may be our killer. In the meantime, I will try to scythen everyone with whom I come into contact. I’ll have to be subtle. The last thing I want is for people to think I’m some kind of touchy-feely weirdo.
Fergus: You’re the best kind of touchy-feely weirdo. I can’t wait to have you interrogate me when I get home.
Amelia: When do you think that might be?
Fergus: Unknown. We leave in the morning for the Terminator headquarters. They’ve taken over a Costco Warehouse in Tequesta. I didn’t get to investigate their operation before the giant and I were sent on a quest for propane. Speaking of, I have a new best friend. Lester is spectacular, both physically and intellectually.
Amelia: A potential recruit?
Fergus: I don’t sense any scythen or langthal, but I’m enjoying his company very much.
Amelia: So it’s possible, then? You can enjoy yourself with people who aren’t attractive women?
Fergus. It would seem so. I must be evolving!
Amelia: Don’t evolve too much. I’m rather attached to the old Fergus.
Fergus: Very well, my love. I shall endeavor to remain lascivious, just for you.
Amelia: Remain alive. That’s all I want.
***
“Do you see that open window on the second floor of the building over there?” Lester said. “There is a sentry stationed inside with an M24 sniper rifle weapons system. He’s very good at killing people before they realize they’re being targeted.”
They had ridden their bicycles all day, Lester pulling Annabelle in a jury-rigged shopping cart behind him. They rolled into Tequesta just as the sun was about to sink below the horizon. Fergus was happy not to have been asked to relieve the huge man, who seemed content to take on the burden of the child alone. He had the muscle and stamina to play draft horse for a day, even with a gunshot wound.
“Why wasn’t I shot when I wandered up to the building the other day?” Fergus asked.
“The guards follow a certain protocol. I’m not privy to the details because that’s not my responsibility. Perhaps they deemed you harmless because of your size.”
“I could have been an assassin.”
“Are you an assassin?”
“No.”
“See? Since you were not shot and subsequently discovered the motherlode of propane, you’ll e
njoy a hero’s welcome tonight.”
“I just want to know about the cheese.”
“Patience, my diminutive friend. We have to go through the proper steps. First, we report in to Aubrey.”
“Who’s Aubrey?” Annabelle asked.
“She’s one of our bosses.” Lester rolled to a stop on the side of the warehouse building. He started to lift the little girl out of the makeshift wagon, but she waved him off.
“I’m not helpless, you know. Your boss is a girl?”
“A young woman, yes. Aubrey and her sister Zoey are the leaders of our group. They’re very beautiful and very clever. That’s why I know you will fit in here.”
“I’ve never heard of girls being in charge.”
“Oftentimes women make the best commanders and administrators. They think before they act, unlike foolhardy men who often want to demonstrate their masculinity through warring.”
“On that we agree,” Fergus said.
“This way. Be polite, Annabelle. Much is at stake.”
“What do you mean?”
“Aubrey will want to analyze you and your usefulness. She will ask questions. You will answer honestly and politely. Do you understand?”
A nod of the curls and a furrowing of the blond brows. It was the first indication of uncertainty Fergus had witnessed in the child. Lester saw it too.
“You’ll do fine. A recommendation from me goes a long way.”
A few moments later the three travelers stood in the small air-conditioned office. It felt like a cool slice of heaven. Fergus hoped to investigate the Terminator’s entire operation soon; dairy cows, grain crops, and air conditioning hinted at progress similar to what they had achieved on the island. Before then, however, they needed to ensure Annabelle’s acceptance into the Tequesta community. He got the impression Lester was less confident than he was letting on.
“Damn it, Lester. Why the hell did you bring a kid here? Especially one this small. How much work can we get out of that body?” Aubrey gave Annabelle a cursory inspection, glanced at Lester, and then targeted Fergus. The sapphire eyes felt like glacial laser beams searing into his soul. If he were going to die, it would be fitting to do so at the hands of such an exquisite creature.
“Well? Did the propane pan out or was this character blowing smoke up my ass?”
The question was directed at Lester, but the lasers were still focused on Fergus. He resisted the urge to fidget under their intensity.
“Six mostly-full, thousand-gallon tanks.” Lester had reverted to his former reserved, taciturn self; the loquacity demonstrated on their expedition had vanished. It was an intriguing development and one about which Fergus would question his new friend later, in private.
“No shit? Well, that’s good news for you, Lucky Charms. Not only do you get to stay alive, you’ll be allowed into our exclusive little club and enjoy elevated status as well. That’s what happens when people prove themselves useful. Now, about this kid, Lester. What the hell were you thinking? You know the prerequisites for recruitment.”
“She would have died out there by herself. Both parents are dead. She’s been living on squirrels. Her name is Annabelle, by the way, named after the poem by one of your favorite writers.” He gestured toward an overflowing bookshelf in the corner.
Fergus had already scanned Aubrey’s collection, which included several Poe volumes as well as books on medicine and psychology. Two in particular caught his attention: The Psychopath Inside: A Neuroscientist’s Personal Journey into the Dark Side of the Brain and The Psychopath Whisperer: The Science of Those Without Conscience.
“Cry me a river. I should be moved because she’s an orphan named after a poem? You’ll have to do better than that.”
Rather than replying, Lester unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the angry, red bullet hole in his shoulder. The Neosporin they had applied the previous night was not staving off infection.
“She did this, from two hundred yards away,” he lied smoothly.
“Really? With what?”
“Remington bolt-action. She’s a natural. She’s also interested in learning martial arts. She wants to be a more effective killer.”
Aubrey laughed. “You buried the lead. You should have told me this in the beginning. Very well, little girl. Today is your lucky day. Lester, give these two the tour. Where do you want the kid to bunk?”
“I’d prefer she stays with me, if that’s okay. I’ll put her in the top bed.”
“That’s kinda pervy.”
Lester responded with a steely look.
“Sorry. I know you’re not a pedophile. I guess you’ll be taking her under your wing, then? She’s your responsibility in every way. At least until she’s old enough for sniper duty. Give the propane location to the tanker people. Tell them I want them on the road before sunrise. And get some antibiotics – that wound is infected. We have way too much invested for you to die at this point. Now everyone get the hell out of my office.”
“Whew,” Fergus said when they were on the other side of the door.
The three had moved away from the customer service desk where the bandolier-festooned brothers lounged, presumably protecting their leader from assassination attempts. Fergus could well imagine someone wanting to throttle the young woman in the air-conditioned office. She was as abrasive as Dani had been back in Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas, but she lacked even a whiff of mercy or goodness. He knew this because his scythen had revealed the deficiency during their belated handshake.
He was dealing with a psychopath.
“She’s rather intense,” Lester said.
“She’s the prettiest lady I’ve ever seen. She’s very smart, too.” Annabelle looked star-struck, which Fergus found distressing.
“You’re in and that’s all that matters. You’ll be well taken care of here and get plenty to eat and any medications you might need. Vitamins too. Children need vitamins.”
Fergus smiled at the big man fussing over the little girl as they walked through a doorway cut into the plywood barricade. The assembled panels created a cattle-chute type corridor leading from the front doors to Aubrey’s office, and also provided a visual barrier to the stockpile of goods contained in the bulk of the building. Columns of rice extended halfway to the ceiling; hundreds of cases of canned vegetables towered next to them. Toilet paper, cleaning supplies, and dozens of other items filled the first two aisles they walked past. Then came cookware and dinnerware and all the other necessities of life former Costco shoppers demanded. The next aisle was packed with tidy stacks of clothing and outerwear, bins of white athletic socks, towers of towels and blankets, pyramids of rolled rugs, and additional merchandise Fergus couldn’t identify in the seconds it took to walk past.
Before he could scrutinize the Terminators’ vast resources further, they arrived at the pharmacy; a sign above the windowed opening identified it as such. A skinny man wearing a white lab coat slid open the glass.
“How’s it hanging, Lester?” The man’s voice was high-pitched; he reminded Fergus of all the rat-faced, sycophantic bad guys he had seen in a dozen gangster movies.
“Antibiotics.” Terse Lester was back.
“What for? Gonorrhea? Bronchitis? Infected hangnail? You’re gonna have to be more specific. They’re specialized, you know.”
“Gunshot wound.”
“No shit? The legend got winged? I’d hate to see the other guy.”
“You’re looking at her.” Lester patted Annabelle’s blond curls.
“Hey, asshole, give the man the medicine before he rips your arm out of its socket. You got any Fintstone gummies back there?” Annabelle said, her voice deadpan and threatening.
The scrawny man’s jaw dropped, but no pithy response was forthcoming. Instead, he turned and scurried through a door leading to the pharmacy stockroom; cool air wafted out. Before it swung shut, Fergus glimpsed shelves filled with bottles, tubes, and packages.
“Impressive. Most people are happy to find fungal cream for
their jock itch these days.”
“Most people aren’t as organized as we are.”
“When do we get to the cheese? I hope you weren’t exaggerating. Tell me you weren’t being a cheese tease. There’s nothing I despise worse.”
Lester’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. He had reverted to the man Fergus had first met outside the Costco building two days ago. The stoicism was part of his Terminator persona. The gentle, kindly philosophizer must be hidden away so as to fit in here.
Rat Face soon returned. “Take two a day, twelve hours apart, for the next week. Cephalexin is like gold, you know. If it were anyone else, I’d have to see Aubrey’s or Zoey’s signature.”
Lester took the proffered bottles without a thank-you.
“You’re welcome, man!” Rat Face said.
“This way,” Lester said, ignoring the remark and turning to his companions. “I’ll give you a quick overview of the interior, then we’ll head out back to Tent Town.”
“Is that where the cheese is?”
Now that there were no Terminators present, Lester allowed a small grin. “You’re all about the cheese, aren’t you, little man?”
“There is nothing more important in this world than cheese. Everyone thinks it, but nobody will say it out loud. That makes me heroic.”
Lester’s face became sober as they approached the back of the building. Fergus had been inside a Costco prior to Chicxulub; he knew this area would have been the meat market in its former life. A frisson of dread surged through his body. Whether the sudden coldness came from his scythen or the cool air emanating from behind the empty cases, he could not discern.
“Remember our talk the other day?” Lester said.
“Which one? We had several.”
“The one about sending sirloin steaks to starving people in Africa.”
“Oh no.”
“Don’t judge and keep an open mind. I’d rather Annabelle not see this, but you both need to understand how things work here.”
He motioned for them to follow as he walked behind the empty cases, which would have been crammed with pork chops and ground beef two years ago. An aroma of bleach permeated everything here but could not entirely banish the smell of rotted meat. Lester walked past stainless steel butcher tables, then opened a commercial freezer door in the back wall. He signaled again for them to follow him inside.
Moving With The Sun Page 14
