Dead Peasants (Zoo Crew series Book 2)

by Dustin Stevens

  Chapter Three

  The Zoo Crew.

  An idea galvanized half from necessity, half from boredom, seven years before.

  Originally, it was just Drake, Kade, Ajax. Three outliers on the University of Montana campus. Drake and Ajax were randomly assigned as freshman roommates. Drake and Kade played on the same defense for the Griz football team together.

  They all became immediate friends. Stayed that way moving forward.

  The idea for the Zoo Crew began in the spring of their freshmen year.

  Rife with Spring Fever, dying to avoid finals, they made a pact to meet at least three mornings a week. Didn't matter time of year. Didn't matter the activity.

  If they were in town, they were going outside.

  Fishing in the summer. Skiing in the winter. Hiking, snowshoeing, golfing, whatever, in the in-between.

  The activity wasn’t important. Neither was their skill level. Just get everybody together, and get to it.

  All three in the cab chuckled as they saw Kade stumble out.

  "This ought to be good," Sage said. Wrenched open the driver's side seat and climbed out.

  Drake did the same behind her. Ajax exited on the opposite side.

  "Tell me you weren't driving," Drake said. A plume of white met the words as they exited his mouth. Cold air bit at his nostrils and ears.

  "Hey, I'm not drunk," Kade said. Held his hands up by his side for emphasis.

  "Uh huh, and I bet you didn't pick up some jail bait last night either," Ajax said.

  Kade started to respond. It gave way to a wolfish grin. "I'm not saying anything of the sort on that front."

  Drake and Sage both laughed. Ajax shook his head.

  "You're late," Sage scolded.

  "Overslept," Kade said.

  Drake eyed his friend. Gave a knowing grin. Said nothing.

  Kade Keuhl was one of the first people Drake met after arriving from Tennessee. The son of a German father and Native American mother, his features were an amalgamation of the two.

  Long dark hair. High cheekbones. Light skin. Blue eyes.

  Growing up a light-skinned Native American on the Flathead Reservation north of Missoula, Kade developed a raw tenacity and thick skin. Both made him an excellent football player.

  Even better friend.

  A couple of inches shy of six feet tall, he still carried the same wiry build he had since the Zoo Crew formed.

  Of course, as a forest firefighter that spent half the year tracking blazes all over the country, that wasn't too surprising.

  "I fear the day I have to explain to the rest of the staff why my brother is getting a shot to clear up some sort of venereal disease," Sage said.

  Offered a half smile to her brother. Pulled open the rear passenger door to her car. Extricated a wool cap and a pair of gloves.

  She was two years younger than the other three. The only one not to have attended the University of Montana.

  Like her brother, she'd spent her time on the rez counting days until she could flee. Once she did, she went on to Bozeman to the only nursing program offered in the state.

  Put in her time there, then returned to St. Michael's Hospital in Missoula as an RN.

  When she first moved to Missoula, Kade had invited her to join the Crew as a way to meet people. Turned out, the first people she met were the ones she liked best.

  She'd been an indispensible member of the group for three years and counting.

  "Come on now, they're all clean-ish," Kade countered. Hoisted open the chrome toolbox that stretched across the bed of his truck. Pulled out a ski mask and gloves of his own.

  "Clean-ish. Try explaining that one to your future wife," Ajax said.

  Drake snorted as Ajax stepped up beside him and smashed a heavy down hat over his thick tangle of dreadlocks.

  Ajax stood four or five inches above six feet tall, though it was always hard to tell exactly. Partially because he wore his hair the way he did which gave him a few extra inches. Partially because on a good day he might weigh a hundred fifty pounds, which always made him look taller.

  Many people in Montana saw his stature, his caramel colored skin tone, and assumed he was there to play basketball. Maybe wide receiver.

  Despite his toned and athletic body, he had never played an organized sport in his life. He was a Boston trust fund kid that had resolutely refused the money and made his own fortune designing video games.

  He'd originally come to Missoula to be as far away from the influence of his family as he could. Stayed because he liked working outside the sphere of the traditional gaming world.

  And of course because of the Zoo Crew.

  Dressed in a pair of snow pants and a heavy parka, he looked like he was ready to go on a deep sea dive. Maybe even into outer space.

  It was all Drake could do to keep from laughing.

  Based entirely on outward appearances, Drake was the most common of the Crew. Blonde hair kept short. Blue eyes. The build of the linebacker he'd just a few years ago been.

  It wasn't until he opened his mouth that his status as an outlier became evident.

  One wouldn't think that a southern drawl would be enough to draw attention in a place like Missoula.

  One would think wrong.

  Drake pulled his own gloves on and flexed his left hand several times. Just a few months before he'd broken it in a fight. A real barn burner with a sadistic son of a bitch that enjoyed torturing women.

  The cast had only been off a few weeks. Drake was still getting it back up to full strength.

  As best he could tell, he was somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters of the way there. Still, he had survived, which was a hell of a lot better than the other guy.

  "How's it doing?" Sage asked.

  Her incessant mothering over the injury had driven Drake nearly crazy the last two months. It also had a lot to do with his recovery being several weeks ahead of schedule.

  "A little stiff," Drake said. "Getting better."

  Sage snorted her approval.

  "So were headed up to the lookout?" Drake asked.

  "That okay with everybody?" Sage asked.

  Kade nodded his agreement. Ajax mumbled something through the coat that was already zipped up to his cheekbones.

  "I'll take point," she said. "Drake, why don't you take the rear. Make sure we don't lose anybody to a hangover or hypothermia along the way."

  Drake touched a hand to his brow. "Aye aye, ma'am."

  Without another word, Sage chose a narrow path and took off. The others fell in line behind her.

  Everyone remained silent as the world slowly woke up around them. The frosted ground crunched beneath their feet. The air smelled crisp and fresh.

  Overhead, morning light shifted the night sky from charcoal to light grey.

  It was going to be one of those days in Missoula.

  Not that it really mattered. Any day that started with the Zoo Crew out and about was bound to be a good one.

  Chapter Four

  Budget meetings.

  As vile a creation as ever befell a store manager. Especially a manager working for a company as bottom-line driven as Bargain Mart.

  On good months, there is no praise. Simply the not-so-subtle urging to stay the course.

  Translation: find corners. Cut them. Ruthlessly.

  On bad months, the mere thought of having to call in the numbers was enough to make one lose sleep.

  Lately, there had been a lot more bad months than good. Actually, there had only been bad months. Nothing even resembling good.

  The sky above was an even steely grey as Thomas Jenks parked his aging Volvo. The Missoula morning air was somewhere between crisp and blustery.

  His feet crunched atop frozen grass as he cut across the thin strip of lawn lining the rear of the store. A handful of dead leaves bunched against the base of the door as he pulled it open and stepped inside.

  At a quarter past seven, he was the only person inside. The st
ore wouldn't open for almost another hour. The other two people he was meeting with wouldn't be in for fifteen more minutes.

  For the briefest of times, the expansive Bargain Mart universe was his alone.

  It would be without question the best fifteen minutes of his day.

  Jenks went to the bank of light switches along the back wall and flipped them all on. An eerie pallor shined down over the store as the fluorescent lights above flickered to life.

  Jenks slid his coat down from narrow sloped shoulders and walked towards the bank of offices that comprised the back corner of the building. Stepped into his and hung the coat along the back of the door.

  Unceremoniously he flopped down into his desk chair. Turned on his computer and ran his fingers back through the remnants of his short red hair.

  Tugged at the collar of the cheap shirt and tie he was required to wear.

  He'd only been gone nine hours, but somehow seventy-two new emails were waiting for his attention.

  Most were marked from Corporate. All indicated they were important and required a response.

  Without thinking, Jenks jabbed a middle finger at the screen and rose from his desk. Went into the adjacent break room and fired up the industrial sized coffee maker.

  It was going to be one of those days.

  He consciously decided to avoid returning to his office while the machine willed itself to life. Instead he loitered around the break room, straightened up a few things.

  His first cup arrived at the same time the two people he was waiting on did.

  Jenks could hear the rear door swing open, followed by voices drifting through the empty building. The sound of woman's shoes clacking against the tile floor.

  The sounds got closer until the two of them appeared at the door. Both looked about as pleased as he did to be there.

  "Good morning," Lisa Wells said.

  She was a thick woman in her mid-forties. Tight bundle of bottle-brown curls tucked close to her head. Dark skirt and shoes peeking out beneath a long black coat.

  As CFO of the Bargain Mart, she had been hired by Jenks personally six years before.

  Jenks knew from experience that she was perhaps the only person alive with a lower opinion of the entire operation than his own.

  Beside her was Otis Allen, legal counsel for the store. Unlike the other two, he wasn't an employee of Bargain Mart. He was a partner at Allen, Bing & Cowell in town, the self-appointed ABC's of all legal needs for Missoula.

  What exactly his role in the meetings were, Jenks and Wells had yet to determine. They just knew their corporate charter required him to be there.

  Every month he showed up in his suit and bow tie. Watched the other two discuss matters through his drooping hound dog eyes. Repeatedly rubbed a hand over his shiny bald head.

  When it was over, he left. Sent them a hefty bill the next day for his services.

  The legal system at its finest.

  "Care for coffee?" Jenks asked. Motioned to the silver monstrosity behind him.

  "Green tea for me," Wells said. Held up a paper cup from some no-name establishment.

  In a town as hippie-chic as Missoula, there were plenty to choose from.

  "No, thank you," Allen said.

  The implication was clear. He wasn't going to be here long enough to even have a cup of coffee.

  Jenks nodded. He'd expected the response from both of them. Extended a hand towards his office. "Shall we?"

  The other two both nodded and shuffled along. They paused at the doorway long enough to let him slide by and took up the seats opposite his.

  Wells removed her coat and folded it across the back of her chair.

  Allen opted to leave his on. Another reminder he wasn't staying long.

  Jenks lifted a paper printout from atop a stack piled on the corner of his desk. A sharp crease was already formed around the staple in the corner.

  He'd spent at least an hour pouring over it the night before. No matter how he tried to massage the information it was giving him, there was no way around it.

  They were sinking. Fast.

  "When I first looked at your report, I kind of hoped our printer was out of black ink," Jenks opened. Offered half a chuckle.

  Got none in return.

  His face immediately fell flat. "Lisa, are things really as dire as they appear here?"

  Wells sighed. "Let's put it this way. If we were an independent company, we would have closed our doors months ago."

  An involuntary frown creased Jenks’ face. He'd known things were bad for some time. Lost more than his share of sleep over it.

  Still, they shouldn’t be this bad.

  "What happened?" Jenks asked. "I know we were having trouble making payroll through the summer, but this...this looks like we can’t pay to keep the lights on."

  Wells pursed her lips, nodded approvingly of his assessment. "I don't know what to tell you, but it's ugly."

  Jenks leaned back in his chair. Made a show of idly flipping through the pages once more. "I've worked in retail my entire adult life. I've never seen gross drop off like this before."

  "Forget retail," Wells said. "I've never seen numbers fall that dramatically in any market before, and that includes seasonal businesses."

  Off to the side, Allen watched the two closely. His head shifted back and forth between speakers like a spectator at a tennis game.

  "Theft?" Jenks asked. He knew he was clutching at straws. He had hired most of the people that worked there. Nearly all were either too honest or too stupid to ever attempt skimming.

  "No," Wells said evenly. Her tone conveyed she thought the question was foolish as well. "There's no way any single person, or even a group of people, could take that much without being caught. Simple fact is we're not getting the foot traffic we once did."

  Jenks nodded. She was, of course, right.

  "What can we do about that?"

  "I don't know," Wells said. Offered an extra shake of her head. "Lord knows we don't have any money left for marketing."

  "Not that it would make much of a difference," Jenks said. "We've been here over twenty-five years. People know who we are."

  Wells remained silent. Allen, predictably, said nothing.

  Once more Jenks returned to the financial sheet. It looked like someone had splatter painted it with pig's blood.

  Nothing but red as far as the eye could see.

  Jenks sighed. Closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. What he had to do was glaringly obvious.

  Still, he hated like hell to admit it. To even consider muttering the words out loud.

  "I think we have to call corporate on this."

  Wells face went a shade paler at the mere mention of it. "I've been thinking the same thing for a while now. They see the same figures we do. They know were way under water right now."

  Jenks shifted his attention to Allen. "What do you think they'll do?"

  If Allen was surprised to be drawn in, he didn't show it. "From what I know of the Bargain Mart business model, they'll do a thorough financial analysis. If they think they can bring it back profitably, they will.

  "If not, they won't."

  No further words. Not that there needed to be.

  Wells whistled softly between her teeth. "This town can't afford to have a hundred newly unemployed heading into the winter."

  Jenks nodded. "Us included. Hell, this is the only company I've ever worked for. Started here as a box boy the first year it opened."

  Wells nodded.

  Jenks tossed the report down atop the desk. "There's no point in going through this thing. We all know what it says. Business is down, has been for some time now."

  "And doesn't appear to be rebounding," Wells added.

  Jenks grunted in agreement and leaned back in his chair. Again ran his hands back through his hair.

  "As much as I hate to say this, I don't think we have many options."

  Wells gave a non-committal shake of her head.

&
nbsp; "Give corporate a call. I'm sure they've seen this stuff before. Maybe they'll surprise us."

  Chapter Five

  The wheezing was getting worse.

  Much, much worse.

  Alice kept her fingers intertwined between her husband's. Closed her eyes tight. Tried not to notice the sucking sound of each breath he took.

  Tried even harder not to notice they were became more labored. Shallow.

  Wetter.

  Her cheeks had glistened with tears for most of the last few months. Now, her entire face was soaked. Had been for the last six hours and counting.

  Every time she allowed herself to think that she might be cried out, that there might not be any moisture left in her entire body, he'd go into another coughing spell. His entire body would wrack with exertion.

  The tears would come back in force.

  When they'd first received the news of his illness, Alice had promised herself that she wouldn't let Craig see her cry. Despite a few small missteps, she had done surprisingly well on that front.

  Now, it didn't much matter.

  Six hours ago he had slipped into a coma. His body just wasn't getting the oxygen it needed to survive.

  Things were starting to shut down.

  Craig had been adamant from the moment he found out he was sick that there was to be no breathing tube. No extension of life, whether it be chemical or mechanical.

  When it was his time, he would go.

  His time was fast approaching. The neurologist that had been by a few minutes before had even said they were down to hours. The odds of him ever waking up were slim at best.

  Alice let the tears slide down her face without the slightest regard for who saw her.

  A small knock sounded twice on the door behind her. As a receptionist at St. Michael's for the last twelve years, she knew who it was.

  Well, not who it was, but what it was.

  This wasn't a doctor coming to check on Craig. This was a co-worker coming to check on her. There had been a steady trickle of them throughout the day.

  Their intentions were good. The words they said were kind.

  Still, Alice just wasn't up for it. Many of the people she barely knew. Some of the ones she did hadn't treated her that well over the years.

  In the eyes of some, she was just a secretary.