“What’s the big deal?”
“Lithium and water are reactive. They’ll explode. Christ, didn’t you ever take chemistry when you were in high school? Oh wait. That’s right. I forgot. You were probably too busy shaking your pompoms, sucking Bill’s dick to even crack open a textbook. Weren’t you? Weren’t you?”
“Well, what do you want me to do? You want me to go back to Glendale and get it?”
“No, no, no. There’s no time. We need to get out to those tanks before it starts snowing again. Shit. We’ll just have to make due without it.” Rick sat back down and started stacking the Sudafed boxes into neat little rows in front of the batteries. “You wanna help me with these?”
“Not if you’re gonna be a jerk about it.”
Rick rolled his eyes. “Let me rephrase. Honey, sweetie, it would sure would be swell if you helped me empty these Sudafed boxes so we can make the mud and get out to those tanks before the god damn blizzard of the century blows in.”
“Alright, alright. I’m coming.” Angie grabbed her McDonald’s bag and walked over to the kitchen, shoving a fistful of fries into her mouth as she walked. “What do you want me to do?”
“Help me pop these things out.”
“Alright.”
She picked up a box and tore it open with her teeth. The Sudafed was encased in a plastic covering with perforated foil on the back. Angie dug her fingernails into the foil and started popping the small, red tablets out of their packaging. They bounced around like red M&M’s on the table.
“Okay,” Rick said, as he got up and walked to the sink, “you keep going on those and I’ll get the blender ready.”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
“Fuck you.” Rick walked over to the cabinets and crouched beneath the sink. He pulled out the blender and set it up next to the table on the kitchen counter. It was a dinky looking thing, an Oster with four speeds and probably not more than a hundred watts. He unwound the cord and plugged it into the outlet. He removed the glass pitcher from its cradle, held it beneath the table, and brushed Angie’s pile of pills into the pitcher.
“Hold on,” Angie said. “I’m not done yet.”
“Well hurry up. Shit. How many more you got?”
“One more box. Hold your damn horses.”
Angie finished the last box. She slammed the Sudafed box down on the table. “There. Have at it big boy.”
“Finally. Jesus.” Rick brushed the pills into the pitcher then screwed it back into its cradle and secured the top. He hit the power button and the blender began wailing, the pills dancing around in a frenzy of red and white dust. After about thirty seconds, the pills turned into a fine red, chalky powder. Rick released the button and the blades came to a rest. He removed the top and lifted the pitcher. Angie held a little plastic baggy open while Rick carefully dumped the powder into the bag. A few clumps stuck to the sides.
“Hold on,” Angie said. She put the bag down, walked to the drawer, and pulled out a long, skinny, wooden spoon. “Here, use this.”
Rick smiled and grabbed the spoon. “Thank you sweetie.”
“You’re welcome. Now you see, that wasn’t so hard was it? It’s a whole heck of a lot better than fighting all the time, isn’t it?”
Rick nodded and dug into the blender. He broke up the clumps into smaller, more manageable chunks.
Angie held the bag open as Rick scooped up the remaining pieces and shoveled them in. “Alright,” he said, as he shook the bag and sealed it tight. “That should do it.” He held the bag up to the light and gave it a few flicks with his finger. “We’re good to go. Just gotta get the propane tank.” He grabbed his jacket hanging on the door, slipped it over his shoulders, and stuffed the little baggy into his side pocket. He disappeared into the backroom and banged and clanged around for about a minute. When he came back out, he was carrying one of those white, cylindrical propane tanks, like the kind that connects to the bottom of a gas grill.
Angie looked at the tank then back at Rick. “We’re not using the cooler?”
“No, not today. I’m tired of having to lug that thing around. If we fill this bad boy up, it should last us a couple days…maybe even a few weeks, if we’re careful.” Rick looked around the kitchen, readjusting the tank against his chest. “Okay, you got the keys?”
Angie nodded and patted her side jacket pocket. “Yep, got ‘em right here.”
“Alright, you ready?”
Angie put up her arms and flexed her biceps. “I was born ready.”
Rick laughed. “Alright then, let’s do it.”
Angie went to the front door and pushed it open. She held it for Rick as he waddled through. “Can you grab that red thermos from the table?” he said, as he eased down the front steps of the trailer.
Angie nodded and ran back into the kitchen. “Where is it?” she shouted.
“On the table.”
“Where?”
“On the table!”
“Oh never mind, I found it! It was on the table!” She picked it up and stopped for a pack of cigarettes, stuffed them inside her jacket pocket and looked around the kitchen for anything else. “Okay,” she said to herself as she zipped up her jacket and moved towards the front door. “It’s go time.”
She closed the front door and locked the bottom lock. Rick was outside leaning against the back of the Camaro, his arms wrapped around the big, white tank. “You coming?” he yelled out.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Angie got around to the back of the Camaro, jammed the keys into the lock, and flung open the trunk.
Rick set the tank next to the box of residue-covered bottles.
“Where do you want this?” Angie said, holding up the red thermos.
“I’ll take it.”
Angie handed him the red thermos then went around the car and hopped in the front seat. She waited for Rick to get in then cranked on the engine, threw the car in reverse, and peeled out.
“Not so fast,” Rick said, gripping the red thermos tightly between his knees. “You wanna get us killed?”
“Oh quit your crying. I was driving back when you were still picking bubble gum out of the braces between your teeth.” Angie popped in the cigarette lighter and reached into her pocket for her pack of cigarettes. She knocked the pack against her knuckles and flipped one between her lips. “You want one?” she said.
“Are you kidding me?”
“What?”
“You wanna set us on fire? I have a homemade bomb between my knees for crying out loud.”
Angie snickered and put down the cigarette. “Oh right. I forgot.”
“Oh yeah, that’s real funny Angie. You’re going to kill us one day, you know that? And slow down will ya? You’re driving like a damn maniac. You wanna get us pulled over?”
“Calm down. I was just out here. There’s no one around.”
“Just slow down please. For me?”
“Alright, alright.” Angie eased on the brake and brought the speedometer down to twenty.
Rick put on his sunglasses and adjusted his wool cap down over his ears. He opened up the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of yellow latex gloves. He snapped them on over his hands as he peered out the window. “Okay, okay, slow down. Pull over.”
“Right here?”
“Yeah, right here, right here.”
Angie pulled over onto the snow-covered shoulder. She threw the car into park and peered out the window.
“I don’t know,” Rick said, looking out the window, rubbing the latex nervously between his hands. “I don’t know about this.”
“Don’t worry, I was just out here, there’s no one around. Trust me, they’re all inside, probably plucking their chickens, cleaning their guns, or doing whatever it is farm people do on a Tuesday morning.”
“I don’t know, Angie. I don’t think we’ve ever done it in broad daylight like this before.”
“Oh quit being such a baby. This is the best time to do it—when no one’s expecting it.
”
“What if they see us?”
“Who? I just told you no one’s out here. They’re all at the house, a mile down the road.”
“I don’t know.”
“Look, I didn’t just spend all morning driving around to every damn drug store in Denver just so you could wimp out now. I need to smoke, do you understand me? I need it. It’s all I have right now. My daughter hates me, my husband hates me…I hate me.”
“Your husband? You mean your ex-husband don’t you?”
“Whatever. Look, let’s just do this thing and get it over with.” Angie ripped off her glove and dug her hand in between Rick’s thighs. “If you do this for me, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“A blow job?” Rick said.
Angie licked the top of her lips. “Whatever you want, baby.”
“In the shower?”
“Yep. It’s your choice.”
Rick nodded, adjusted his sunglasses, clapped his hands together, and flung open the door.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
“That a boy! Now we’re talking!” Angie slapped his butt as he hopped out of the Camaro.
Rick handed Angie the red thermos, which she took and wedged in between her knees. She bent forward and reached down beneath the steering wheel and pulled the little lever that popped the trunk. Then, she strapped on her gloves, got out of the car, and walked around to the wire fence on the side of the road. The big green tanks were about two hundred yards out, in the middle of the field, which was completely white, covered with a fresh layer of snow. There was a red barn another hundred yards out to the left of the tanks. “You ready yet?” she said bouncing up and down, trying to stay warm.
Rick shut the trunk and lugged the propane tank over, setting it down by Angie on the side of the road. His eyes darted from Angie to the barn and back to the tanks. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea. Something just doesn’t feel right.”
“Come on, quit being such a baby. We’re running out of time.”
Rick nodded. “Okay,” he said, as he bent down and picked up the tank. “Get the fence.”
“Alright.”
Angie grabbed the wire fence and held it apart. Rick stuck the tank through the opening and set it down on the other side. He took the wire from Angie and held it for her. “Alright, you go first.”
Angie crouched down and crawled through, one leg after the other, holding the red thermos against her chest. Rick followed. He bent over, grabbed the tank, and lifted it up to his chin. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Angie nodded and walked forward. She got about two feet when the ground gave way and sank all around them. “Holy crap.” The snow was up to her knees. It was so high she could almost reach out and touch it with her fingertips. She turned and looked back at Rick. “How the hell are we supposed to get out there?”
Rick looked down at her knees then shrugged, shifting the tank higher against his chest. “We’re just going to have to suck it up. Come on, let’s go.”
“Are you crazy? I can’t walk through this.”
“Oh, who’s being the little baby now?”
“This crap must be two feet deep, Rick. There’s no way we can make it all the way out there.”
“Just shut up and walk. We’ll make it just fine.” Rick plunged forward through the snow.
Angie followed, pouting as she pulled up the rear. “I think I have frost bite. I can’t feel my toes.”
“Shut up and keep walking. We’re almost there.”
They got about a hundred yards out when Angie turned and looked down at the footprints leading back to the car. “They’re gonna know we were out here.”
“What?”
“They’re gonna know we were out here. Look. Look at the footprints.”
Rick set the tank down, turned around, and studied the snow. “Ah shit. That’s just great.”
“See, I told you.”
Rick took off his wool cap and wiped the sweat from his brow. Steam radiated from his head as he looked up towards the cloud-covered sky. “Maybe we’ll get that snow shower later.”
“Yeah, but what if we don’t? They’re gonna know we were out here.”
“Well, so what? So what if they see our footprints? I mean, what are they gonna do?”
“Call the cops, you idiot.”
“Well, it’s too late now. I mean, you’ve already got me out here freezing my ass off. There’s a fucking breadcrumb trail right to the tanks. We may as well get what we need and hit the road.” Rick looked around and scanned the field. “Look.” He pointed over to the red barn. “You go over there and look for something to cover up our tracks with, while I go and fill up the tank.”
Angie’s eyes moved across the field towards the red barn. “What the hell am I supposed to get?”
“Christ Angie, I don’t know. A broom, a shovel, anything. Use your fucking imagination.”
“Don’t yell at me Rick!” Angie put her head down and stuffed her hands into her pockets. She started to shake and shiver and snivel into her jacket.
“Oh god, what’s the matter now? Are you crying? Aw for Christ’s sake.”
“I don’t wanna go over there by myself, Rick. What if something happens? What if we get caught?”
Rick rolled his eyes and put down the propane tank. He walked over to Angie, took off his glove, and put his warm hand on the back of her neck. He leaned in and pressed his soft lips against her cheek. “It’s okay Angie, everything’s gonna be fine. We’ve done this a hundred times, right? Just think how good it’s gonna feel once we get it over with. You can go back, take a nice, long, hot shower, put on your robe and cuddle up in bed. I’ll get the first batch started and before you know it, you’ll be on cloud nine. I promise. No more Bill, no more Sarah, and no more sneaking around in the freezing, cold snow. Just you and me cuddled up together with enough meth to last us a whole month. Now, what do you say? Can you do this for me? Can you go to that barn and find a broom or something to cover up our tracks?”
Angie nodded, wiping the snot from her nose. “Yeah.”
Rick kissed her on the cheek and squeezed her tight. “That a girl. That’s my brave girl.” He let her go then went back and knelt beside the propane tank. “Okay Angie, go over there and see what you can find. But whatever you do, don’t yell out if you need help with something. We don’t wanna call any attention to ourselves. Okay?”
“Alright.”
“Okay.”
“Here. Take your thermos.” Angie handed Rick the thermos then turned and trudged off towards the barn.
It was a painful, ten minute walk through freezing cold tundra—she couldn’t feel a frickin’ thing from her waist down. When she finally got to the barn, she went around to the back, but the back door was fastened with a metal chain and a Masterlock. “Oh great, now what am I supposed to do?”
Just then, she heard Rick screaming, calling her name over and over again. She dropped the lock and ran as quick as she could around to the front of the barn. “Rick! What’s the matter? I thought we weren’t supposed to scream?”
As she looked out across the field, she saw Rick standing rigid, his hands stuck straight in the air above his head. There was a figure of a man approaching from the highway, a rifle pointed squarely at Rick’s head. “Oh no, Rick, get down!”
The first shot rang out like thunder. Rick ducked, covered, and dove to the ground. Angie screamed and ran towards him, shouting, “don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Rick, get behind the tanks!”
Rick crawled on his belly and hid behind the pair of massive, green metal tanks.
The man took a moment to reload his rifle then brought it back up and fired again. But, the bullet hit the tank and pierced through the metal and a bath of ammonia came spewing from the puncture. A few seconds later, the tank exploded, erupting into a ball of smoke and flames. The shock wave from the blast was so powerful that it knocked Angie onto her back. She lay there stunned and trembling, whimpering
a soft cry as the fire roared and crackled, clouds of black smoke billowing off into the now ashen sky. She lifted her head and rolled onto her stomach, her eyes desperately searching for Rick, but he was nowhere in sight. All she saw before her was a pile of twisted metal, burning furiously, the orange glow of the fire reflecting off an endless stretch of pallid white.
Chapter 15
The Four Points
AT first, the beeping was only a murmur off in some distant, dream-like surrounding. But then, it began to grow louder, like the screaming of a train charging through a tunnel. Monty was on the tracks, his wrists and ankles bound to the rails. He knew he had to get out of the way or the train would run him over, but he couldn’t move his body. He couldn’t even turn over. Then, he saw it through the black, oval-shaped darkness—the single light of the train, whistling, as it charged through the tunnel. He kicked and pulled against the ropes that were binding him, screaming for Vicky, calling out her name. But, it was too late. The train was upon him. He could actually feel the vibration of the rails against his bones. But, just as the train came plunging from the darkness, Monty opened his eyes and suddenly awoke. The train had vanished, replaced by a hazy, white vapor, like the heat from the asphalt rising up after a summer rainstorm. He opened his mouth and let out a soft whimper, as the pain from being conscious slowly crept into his muscles. He lifted his head and looked down the line of his body—a thin, white sheet covered him from his toes to his neck. Where was he? What was happening? Was he alive or was he dead?
He tried to sit up and roll over onto his stomach, but something kept his hands pinned by his knees. He looked down. There were bright orange straps secured around his wrists and ankles, fastened to metallic bars lining the side of a bed. He tried lifting his hands and pulling up on the bindings, but they were on so tight that the fabric cut into his flesh.
Panic settled in. He started to struggle harder and harder, panting and pulling, moaning and groaning, his head floundering from side to side. But he was too weak, his body too exhausted, and he could feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head. The walls closed in, the light started to tunnel, and everything light began to turn dark again. No, no, he had to stay calm, he had to stop struggling, or he was going to pass out. He immediately relaxed and allowed his body to sink back into the bedding, breathing slowly in and out with the pulse of his heart.
Some Are Sicker Than Others Page 15
