by Billy Farmer
Never taking his eyes off the Gray, he said, “Am I going to turn into that?”
“No,” I said. I mean, I didn’t think he would.
Chapter 7
I had just finished filling a kerosene heater when I heard a commotion near the rear entrance of the Commons. I quickly screwed the lid back on the kerosene jug and ran to the back to see what was going on. The lady doing the yelling, our cook, Olivia Danmar, was visibly shaking. In between long breaths, she said, “I’m telling you what I saw, Jim. Somebody’s outside.”
“Of course, somebody outside. Probably more than one. It smells like smoke and ass in here,” Jim said.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I saw someone. Didn’t you hear me say that?”
“Well, yeah, but like Jim said, people need to get some fresh air every now and again.”
By the sour look on her face, I could tell she thought I wasn’t taking her serious. “How about you catch your breath and start from the beginning.”
She shook her head angrily as she worked on her breaths. “Well, some of it’s personal.”
Confused, I said, “Uh… okay. What’s personal?”
She whispered, “With the power being out and it being dark and all, I left in a hurry this morning, forgetting things a decent woman shouldn’t ever forget.” She peered down at her, uh, ample, but also gravity-effected, bosom before also tracing the outline of her nether region, with her index finger, that she also forgot to wear another certain garment. The mental image was cringe worthy. I needed to make it all stop.
“How about just the part that’s got you so upset?”
She nervously ran her fingers over her bluish gray coif of hair. “I saw a man without a coat over by the Nest.”
“Who was it?”
Her eyes darted between me and Jim before finally settling on me. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Everybody knows everybody.”
“Because he doesn’t work on the Patch. If you all would let me finish, I would tell you these things,” she said, her hands firmly planted on her hips.
I put my hands up in submission. “Sorry.”
She took a couple calming breaths before continuing, “I never saw him in my life.” She paused.
“I believe you. Just continue,” I said.
“I was about to ask him if he was okay, you know, because he wasn’t wearing a coat in all, but before I could, he turned towards me and the damn fool started spinning like a top. Like a top.” She got a little closer to Jim and me, like she knew a secret and didn’t want anyone else to know. “He was all hopped-up on drugs, I bet.”
If you wanted the down low of what was happening at the Patch, gossip wise, Olivia was your woman. Right down to the seedy detail. Because of that, I was reluctant to act. But, she of all people should’ve at least known who the dude was. I couldn’t take any chances. There were too many weird things happening for me to be too dismissive. “Jim, close and lock all the doors in the commons, and a couple of us are going to have to check this dude out.”
Jim shot me an odd look. He began to say something but settled instead on a quick rolling of his eyes. Olivia shot him a look. Finally, Jim threw up his hands and said, “You’re the boss.” I wasn’t sure whether he was talking to me or Olivia. Either way, he did as he was asked.
As for Olivia, I put my hands on her shoulders and told her to go rest and that we would make sure everyone was safe. She began to say something, but I told her to, “Go on now.”
She wouldn’t budge.
“What?”
“You all need to be careful. You know all the crazy drugs people take in Barrow. He might have super-human strength.”
“Thanks, Olivia... I’ll keep that in mind.”
She had taken maybe ten steps before she had cornered someone else, telling him no-doubt about her harrowing experience outside.
“Well, I am being wery sorry about your experience,” the man said.
“Hey, Aadesh,” I said. “I need you to come here for a minute.”
He rushed over to where I stood. Olivia stomped off. The Commons was a captive audience. She’d find someone else to ear rape. I was sure of that.
“I am wery appreciative of you saving me from dat woman. She is windy.”
“Well, don’t thank me much. I need you to check the drill shack.”
He looked concerned. “I just came from dere. It was completely empty.”
“Well, I need you to go back. You heard her story. Someone could be out there.”
“I did see him, Jack!” Olivia yelled from across the Commons.
“Poor word choice, Olivia. My bad,” I said, wondering how in the hell she had heard what I said.
A crowd of people began gathering around Aadesh and me, trying to find out what the newest source of turmoil was. “Anyway, just go back over there and check. I’d hate for you to have to explain how things were stolen.”
“Yes, I don’t want to be telling him dat. But I am not wery crazy about going out dere with a crazy man being on the lamb.”
I thought for a minute about him saying the man was on the lamb. Aadesh has a habit of mangling the English language. In this case he might’ve been right. “Take the rifle, then. Just don’t shoot anybody.”
The offer to let him use the rifle seemed to have taken him by surprise. “You want me do dake de weapon? I have only fired it once, and id wasn’t wery successful.”
“Yes. Just be careful with it.”
“Doors are locked,” Jim said, as he nudged his way through the people who had encircled us.
“Well, Aadesh and I are going outside. Lock them behind us. Don’t let anyone inside.”
Jim chuckled. “You really are letting Aadesh take the rifle?”
“Yeah.”
“He doesn’t know how to shoot it.”
“I know.”
“I can go out with him or wake up some of the other guys?”
“Nah.” I looked towards Olivia, who was neck deep in her retelling to some poor shmuck who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. “I think things will be okay.”
“If you say so. I’ll have someone watch the other door for Aadesh. I’ll wait for you at the main entrance.”
“Thanks.”
Jim locked the door behind me. I didn’t bother turning my lamp on. It was twilight and the snow was starting to let up. It sounds weird, but I felt safer with the light out. I pulled my hood over my head and walked quickly over to the lean-to, which seemed like a good starting point. That, and a quick sip of tequila sounded good.
The only thing of interest in the lean-to was the mostly empty bottle of Sam’s tequila. “Drink ‘at Tequiler, shit, and you won’t even need no heat,” Sam told us earlier that night. I was feeling a nice chill about then. I thought I would take ol’ boy’s advice. A couple swigs later the bottle was finished. Sam knew his shit. I was feeling warmer.
I let the alcohol run its course. After all that we had been through over the last several hours, I needed it. That’s when it hit me like a brick, and I’m not talking about the alcohol, either. I had failed to link what had happened earlier with Tom and me with what Olivia had seen. I needed to have been taking things much more seriously than I was, but that was a long-standing problem with me. As I often did, I vowed to do better. I tipped the empty bottle one more time, savoring the last couple drops, before leaving the building.
I was getting ready to latch the lean-to door closed when someone slammed into me, nearly knocking me to the ground in the process. “What are you blind, bro," I said, startled, but mostly jokingly.
His face was awash with wide-eyed surprise. "Hey, who are you?" I asked.
The first thing I noticed, besides his wide eyes and a menacing brow, was the rifle he had slung on his shoulder. “What are you doing here? Are you the police?” I asked.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he began unslinging his rifle, and considering how he
looked at me, I knew I was in trouble. As he brought the rifle up to what I assumed was a firing position, I slung my lantern around as fast as I could and I struck him hard in the face. I then jumped on the bastard. He dropped his gun – looked like a machine gun to me, but I was from a part of California where it was uncool to have a gun, much less know anything about them.
I grabbed the gun and was on my feet in one quick motion. I aimed the barrel between his eyes. “Who the hell are you? If you’re the police, this is on you, man.” Shots rang out somewhere near the Commons, followed by what sounded like hundreds of feet slamming into the snow. “Dude, if you don’t fucking talk right now, I’m going to do something bad to you. I mean it,” I said, taking another quick look at the Commons.
Feeling completely vulnerable, I told him, “Get up and get in the building, now.” He lay back and sneered at me. I put the point of the rifle barrel into his left cheek and pushed hard. “Look at me, asshole,” I told him. There was chaos at the Commons by that time, and I needed to be over there, but I couldn’t leave this guy. “Last time, get inside now!”
His eyes were locked with mine, the look of hate was slathered all over his face.
“Dude, if you don’t move in about two seconds we’re going to have a problem.”
I noticed his hand slowly moving towards his pocket, retrieving a black box. He grasped it with both hands and began to turn a knob. POP! He screamed in agony as he dropped whatever was in his hand and clutched his mangled face. I pulled the trigger. I mean I meant to, I guess. I didn’t have a choice, I thought. But…
“Oh, my God… oh, my God,” I said. “You didn’t talk to me… You didn’t listen to me, dude! It’s your fault… I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to blow your fucking face off,” I said, panicking. “Dammit, you asshole!”
The man tried to say something, but I couldn’t understand him. “Now you try to talk, damn you!” I heard shouts in a language I didn’t understand. It sounded like Japanese. I then saw people walking slowly towards where they thought the shot came from. The Commons was fully enveloped in chaos.
I had my own problems, though. The people walking towards me had to have noticed me by that point. I tore myself away from what was happening at the Commons, and in the process of gathering my senses, I also gathered up the man’s belongings, plus my own. I ran quickly through the door I had just used to exit the building moments earlier.
I paced for a moment. “What the hell am I going to do?” I asked myself. “I just shot that dude. Damnit!” My self-contemplation of previous events would have to wait. There were footsteps and light conversation close enough for me to hear.
The only thing I could think of was to hide. I had the gun, but if it hadn’t fired when I… Well, I would’ve been completely screwed. I wasn’t going to rely on it for the second time. A split second later I was feeling the cold side wall of the lean-to, between the exit and the bathroom. My probing hands felt for the small raised part of the corrugated aluminum. “There you are,” I said quietly. I moved the piece of aluminum just enough so that there was a gap large enough for me to squeeze through. I then slid the aluminum door back into to place.
When we heard Titouan was taking over at the Patch, we knew he’d put a stop to us smoking weed. So like any good group of potheads, we improvised. There was a light fixture on the side wall, and Sam had requisitioned from Avery a super-powerful fan that vented the smoke so no one close to the lean-to could smell it. It worked perfectly. I hoped it would function half as well as a hiding spot for me.
At least two people were outside the lean-to, talking to the man I’d shot. I didn’t understand what they were saying, but it was clear the woman questioning him wasn’t happy. The man’s whimpering turned quickly to crying. It didn’t matter I didn’t know what was being said. The language of begging was universal. His cries became muffled. Smothered, I thought. Within moments, there was only silence.
They moved slowly and methodically into the lean-to. I could barely hear them over the wind, but I felt the vibrations from the side wall as they passed through the entrance. At some point, they no longer tried to mask themselves.
A woman yelled out to me in perfect English. “We’re here to help.”
Yeah, fuck you all, I thought. Either they thought I was deaf or stupid, because I could hear what was happening over at the Commons. The bastards were not there to help.
“We know you’re in here,” came a third voice.
The woman spoke several curt words in whatever language they spoke, apparently not directed at me. There was a squawk from a radio, followed by a quick and efficient reply. Then there was nothing but silence for what seemed like a solid five minutes. I was sweating it bad. My entire body shook.
I had a lot of other things on my mind, like not dying, but there was a terrible smell coming from somewhere. It filled the lean-to. I sniffed my coat sleeve. I fought back a gag. My sleeve had this nasty, mucusy film covering it. It was so bad I feared they might smell it through the wall.
There were two quick shots into what I thought was the bathroom, then the mirror fell to the ground with a crash. The bathroom door flung open hard; the sound it made when it slammed against the fake wall of the dope room sounded hollower than it should have because there was no actual framing behind the fake wall, just a thick sheet of corrugated aluminum.
I heard what sounded like hundreds of footsteps coming from the direction of what I thought was the Commons. There was another shot into the bathroom. Sensing that there were going to be more shots fired, I slowly got down on my belly. I figured the racket being made outside would obscure any noise I might’ve made moving to the floor. Like clockwork, someone opened fire all along the wall of the bathroom and dope room. I could see the rays of lamplight now shining through the newly created holes in the wall.
The sounds that replaced the gunfire were nightmarish. It will suffice to say that what I heard didn’t sound human, not to me anyway. There was sniffing and snorting with the occasional grunt thrown in for ambiance. I shook even more violently.
“Friend, if you’re in there, we’ll find you,” the woman said, now outside the building. The sniffs and snorts ramped up as she spoke. I heard a disturbance outside, followed by the sickening sound of a bone crushing blow from something heavy. Something or someone fell to the ground with a thud. She then picked back up with the conversation like nothing happened. “If you’re in there, you’ll want to let me know. You don’t want those terrible things you hear to find you. I’ll make it quick and painless. They won’t,” she said, with a hint of glee in her voice.
At least she was being honest, I thought.
The radio squawked again. “I’ll be right there--” the woman started in English, then caught herself and switched to the other language. The woman then barked orders to those who were with her. There was the twang of a couple metal objects hitting the floor, followed by the Sniffers becoming highly agitated.
The lantern light diminished as the woman and her human entourage moved away. Regrettably, the Sniffers and their nightmare-inducing bellows remained.
In just a matter of moments, I heard the violent jostling of bodies maybe thirty feet away from the lean-to. Thanks to the light from the multiple lanterns having been setup around the spectacle and a favorable bullet hole, I had a front-row seat to the unfolding events.
Several people from the Patch were made to get down on their knees. Sobbing and begging filled the dark night. One man spoke up, uttering a single word: “Why?” A man walked up to him and without hesitation slammed the butt of his rifle into the man’s gut. His name was John. He was one hell of a cook. He fell over on his side and was still for several moments before finally sucking in a long breath.
The woman told John to get back on his knees. “I’m going to begin killing your friends if you don’t give back my property. This is your only warning,” the woman yelled.
If I’m being honest, up until that point in my life, I had pret
ty much shirked away from any and all responsibilities. I left my mom and dad’s business because they expected too much from me. I was too chill to be a suit and tie guy, anyway. I wanted to live on my own terms, not be a snotty suit-wearing shill who sipped wine and talked about bullshit that didn’t amount to anything. I moved to Texas and got hooked up with Miley and with William. I got to see the world, do cool things, and got my fingernails dirty. All the while, by doing whatever the hell I wanted.
One way or another, I guess, things end up coming full circle. The yen and yang of life. My shirking days were over. I had to make a decision and live with it. Granted, this decision had a hell of a lot more hanging in the balance than balance sheets and hobnobbing with other knob-gobblers.
I had to know what they wanted. In my mind, the contents of the bag I had taken had to be important as hell for them to be willing to execute people for them. I quietly unzipped the dead man’s bag: a few clips for the rifle in there, several small, metallic cube looking things, three or four tubes of what looked like tooth paste but I was sure wasn’t, and a weird black box.
I jumped as the leader began to talk again. “Apparently, you think you can keep our property without consequences. You can’t.” There was a loud pop, and a thud from a body falling over. There were screams and loud crying. Some of the Sniffers who were outside the lean-to took off running towards the shots. Several more shots rang out, and more bodies fell to the ground.
“Let’s try this again. You have one minute, and then I’m going to shoot two of your friends.”
Part of me wanted it all over. I wanted to just run over there and give them the bag. I knew what would happen, though. They would’ve killed me, gotten their bag back, and then they would’ve killed everyone on the Patch. You didn’t smother the life out of one of your own if you didn’t mean business. I couldn’t. I knew what was going to happen. Those bastards were going to pay for what they did to my friends. Not then, but they would later.
She kept her word. There were two quick pops followed by, well, you know, followed by more Sniffers running towards the shooting, followed by them also being mowed down. Tears ran down my face. I don’t know why I did what I did, but I punched myself in the jaw. I needed to feel something, but I was numb. I was letting people die, but I didn’t have a choice.
