ZACK & COLIN
Colin went to the front door, peaked out the side window light. A black Porsche was backing out of the drive. He grabbed his bag, ran out after the car.
“Zack! Wait!” He yelled, preparing to throw his book bag at the retreating vehicle.
The Porsche jerked to a stop, causing Colin to juke to the right to avoid crashing into the hood. Colin jumped into the passenger seat. “First you’re late, then you’re gonna leave me?” Colin ragged his brother, but was happy to see him anyway.
“I gave up a nice piece of ass to take your sorry butt to school. Show some appreciation.” Zack threw back.
“Whatever. You’re still late and still a douche bag.”
“No one says douche bag anymore do they?” Zack took a curve a little too fast.
Colin grabbed the ‘oh shit’ handle. “Maybe not in stoner world.”
“Stoner world. That’s funny. Hilarious. Ever think of doing standup?” Zack shifted gears, steered the Porsche onto the exit leading to the interstate.
The Porsche reached seventy going down the on ramp. They hit the interstate doing ninety. Zack pushed the car over one hundred, before easing back to ninety. Colin wanted to put his seatbelt on, but he didn’t dare, knowing Zack would tease him for being a momma’s boy. Despite their mom’s best efforts to poison him against Zack, Colin deeply admired and loved his brother.
Zack’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror. He mouthed the word shit. The car did a nose dive, slowing to seventy in a matter of seconds.
“What’s wrong?” Colin looked to Zack, who jerked his thumb behind them. Colin checked out the side mirror. Flashing blue lights were almost up on them. “You dumb ass.” Colin laughed.
Zack eased the car over a lane closer to the shoulder. He signaled to get over again, but before he could do so the cruiser flew by in a blur of blue lights. Two more followed. And judging by how fast they disappeared down the interstate, they were doing well over one hundred miles per hour.
Zack laughed out loud. “That’s right you mothers. Worse shit goin’ on in this town than Zack Londergan.”
Although Zack played it off, Colin knew that for a second, maybe two, his brother felt the panic creeping in. He was still on probation and the cops in town didn’t care for him much. Maybe it was the pot, maybe it was all the money Zack made from selling pot or maybe and more likely it was because his last name was Londergan. In any case, Zack didn’t need another arrest of any kind. He’d say he didn’t care, but Colin knew better.
Zack was about to ease back onto the road when a Honda Pilot slid sideways in front of him, slamming into the guard rail and catching on fire. The brothers glanced at each other, Zack slammed the car into park and they both jumped out and ran towards the burning vehicle. Zack took the driver’s side, Colin the passenger’s.
“There’s no driver.” Zack yelled over to Colin.
Colin looked inside and saw a German Sheppard puppy in the very back seat. The dog was frantically pawing at the doors and windows to get out.
“There’s a dog.” Colin reached for the handle, but Zack knocked his hand away.
“What if it’s hot dumb ass?”
Colin ignored him. “We’ve got to save the dog.” He searched the ground, found a large rock and heaved it through the window. Zack took off his shirt and wrapped his hand. He reached inside and opened the door. More smoke poured out of the vehicle, but the dog didn’t exit as they expected.
Zack gave Colin a crooked grin before diving into the vehicle. Moments later he emerged, puppy in his arms, smoke in his lungs. Colin took the dog from him. By now they could here sirens approaching. Colin carried the puppy away from the burning vehicle. Zack, still hacking like a two pack a day smoker, slid behind the wheel of the Porsche. Colin got in, holding the dog in his lap.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting’ the hell out of here.” He eased the Porsche onto the highway, checking his rear view every few seconds as they sped away from the burning vehicle. “If you’re on tonight’s news, someone will call mom and then she’ll know I was late picking you up.” Zack explained, taking the first exit he came to.
Colin didn’t ask any more questions. He often got caught in the middle of the war between Zack and their mom. He knew Zack missed being with the family, but his mom refused to let him come around as long as he insisted on staying in the drug business. She didn’t care how much money he made or that the government legalized the sale of pot. In her mind he was still a drug dealer. For his part, Zack was equally stubborn. He’d made enough money and could have left the business, gone to college, but he liked his lifestyle too much to become a slave to a regular job. So the two of them stayed in a perpetual state of impasse with Colin as the collateral damage.
“Zack?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are there three suns?” Colin asked, looking out through the windshield.
Zack glanced out to where Colin pointed. He stared for several seconds and shook his head, turning his attention back to the road as they rounded a curve. He slammed on the brakes with both feet. The Porsche fishtailed out of control on the slick pavement, spun around on a direct collision course with a sideways loaded down logging truck that was sliding towards them.
The tractor trailer tipped from the weight of the logs. A loud groaning sound filled the air. The safety wires, pushed beyond their limit, snapped free. Several tons of timber logs rolled off the bed and careened towards them. Colin shielded the dog, bracing for impact.
Zack pumped the brakes, turning the wheel away from the spin. The Porsche’s tires caught dry pavement and the car jerked to a sudden stop. Zack wasted no time slamming the gear shift into reverse and flooring the gas pedal. The car flew backwards down the road mere seconds before being pummeled and crushed.
They watched the logs roll and slide every which way along the road. After several tense minutes movement ceased. Zack and Colin looked at each other, then back to the bizarre scene in front of them. Zack shifted into drive and cautiously maneuvered the car around the logs until they reached a point where the road was impassable.
“Wait here.” Zack reached for the handle.
“I’m comin’ with.”
“Stay.” He commanded him like he was speaking to the dog. “You gonna leave Scruffy in here to chew on my fine Italian leather. I’ll have to kill him.”
“Ok. But don’t take forever.” Colin replied.
“I won’t mama’s boy.” He messed Colin’s hair.
Zack picked his way around the logs, careful not to twist an ankle. He turned back and gave the peace sign to Colin before disappearing around the cab of the truck. He reached the driver’s door, pulled on the handle. At first it refused to give. Yanking harder, Zack gave it another try. This time the door popped open, and Zack lost his balance, falling backward onto his ass. From his spot on the ground, he looked up into the cab of the truck. The color drained from his face.
Zack sat on the ground, staring up at the mangled flesh and bone dangling from the cab. From his vantage point, the face appeared to have been shredded. Zack inched his way closer to the truck. Inside the cab, the light gray vinyl interior had been turned crimson red by the blood drained from the driver’s body. Zack assumed the corpse was the driver, being that he was the only person in the cab.
“What’s taking so long?” Colin walked around the truck, dog in tow. He’d crafted a leash from the straps of his book bag.
Zack stepped back from the truck, blocked Colin from coming closer “I told you stay in the car.”
“I’m freezing my ass off.” He tried to get a look behind Zack. “You took the keys dumb shit.”
“You don’t want to see this. Trust me.” He pressed his hand against Colin’s shoulder.
Colin shrugged his brother’s hand off. “Why do you always treat me like I’m five years old?”
“Look then.” He stepped out of the way. “But you’re gonna have nightmares mamma’s boy.”
“Shut up asshole.” Colin shoved past his brother to look in the cab. “Holy shit.” He gagged from the smell. “What happened to him?”
“How the hell would I know dumbass?”
The brothers stood side by side. The last time they were this close to a dead body was at their father’s funeral, but the casket had been closed. The coroner had tried to repair the damage to Mr. Londergan’s head, but in the end their mother decided against an open casket, which was as much for her own benefit as for that of her youngest son’s.
At the impressionable age of eight, she didn’t want Colin’s last image of his father to be the grotesque man lying beneath the expensive mahogany casket lid. Zack, however, had other plans. He wanted to see the body of the old man. He wanted to see and remember him as he died. The father who had caused the family more than their fair share of grief, long before someone took a double barrel shotgun to the back of his head.
After the funeral services, while the grieving widow was being consoled and before the casket was taken to the grave site, Zack, with Colin on his heels, snuck back into the parlor. He stood over the casket, his hands resting on the lid, his reflection almost visible in the mirrored finish. “What are you doing?” Colin tugged on his suit jacket. “Get outta here.” Zack shrugged him off. Colin didn’t get out of there, but he did step back from the casket when Zack raised the lid.
Under all the make-up, Zack could see where the mortician had tried to reconstruct his father’s shattered face. He gripped the side of the coffin till his knuckles turned white. He wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t sad, he was angry. He wanted to punch his father’s dead face. He raised his hand in a fist, pulled back, but stopped mid strike when he realized Colin was still there, watching closely. Rather than hitting his dad, he reached out and pressed his index finger into his father’s cheek, pushed away the play dough like substance making up half of his face. He felt his father’s cheekbone under his finger, jagged and half missing.
As if obsessed, Zack leaned further over the old man, opening his dad’s eyes. In one the socket was empty; the other stared back at him. He felt a tug on his jacket. “I told you to beat it.” He snarled back at Colin. “I want to see him.” Colin pleaded, but was ignored by his brother who had unfinished business with the old man. “I’m gonna tell mom.” Colin threatened. With that Zack turned on his brother, grabbed him by the lapel. “Do that and I’ll cut off your raisin nuts while you sleep.” Colin didn’t back down. “But why can’t I see him?” Zack thought this over, and the only answer he arrived at was because their mom didn’t want Colin to see dead ole Bobby Londergan.
Without consideration or care over the consequences, Zack stepped aside. “Ok, but you aren’t going to like it.” He warned. Colin ignored him, stepped up to the casket and peered over the side. His face turned a ghastly green, he gagged out loud and his body jerked from the convulsions. Zack yanked him backwards just as ground up cheeseburger and French fries spewed forth decorating the skirting under the casket.
“Shit! You dumb little twerp. I told you not to look.” Zack smacked him in the head. “I’m not taking the blame for this one.” He took out his knife, cut away the offended section of material, wadded it up and stuffed it in a nearby receptacle. Despite his tough demeanor, Zack always looked out for Colin. And Colin always returned the favor.
Colin had nightmares for months after the funeral, but he never told his mom what happened. And now, looking at the dead body of the truck driver, he was reminded of his father, but this time he was able to keep down the contents in his stomach.
“Let’s get out of here before the cops show up.” Zack said and the dog barked in agreement.
“Whattya think happened to him?” Colin moved closer, but the dog held him back.
“Dunno.” He shuffled from one foot to another to stay warm. By now the snow was coming down hard.
Colin tried again to get closer to the cab, but the dog dug in, refusing to budge. “What’s the matter with you?” The dog let out a short bark in response or protest, either way he was not moving. “Hold him for a minute.” He shoved the leash in Zack’s hand and moved closer to the cab. The wind picked up velocity. Road debris and leaves intermingle with the snow. Colin pulled his hood closed by the strings. He didn’t know why, but he had to see the driver’s body. He stepped up into the cab; his leg was only inches from the dead man’s hand. Holding on to the side of the door, he leaned around the body to look inside the man’s coat.
“Shit almighty.” He jerked back, lost his footing and had to put a hand out to avoid falling face first into the driver’s empty chest cavity. He scrambled away from the truck and back stepped into Zack.
“Watch it dumbass.” Zack grabbed him, preventing him from falling over the dog. “Can we go now? I’m freezing my balls off.”
Without a word Colin took the dog’s leash and hurried back to the car. The dog eagerly followed. Zack glanced at the truck driver, at Colin’s retreating figure and ran to catch up to him.
“What’s the matter with you?” He demanded when he reached his brother’s side, but he got only silence from Colin.
By now the Porsche was covered in snow. It took more than a few minutes to brush enough off the windows to make it drivable. Zack, half frozen and in a foul mood, cranked the heater on high.
“Who would take his heart?” Colin’s eyes were fixed on the image burned into his mind of the driver’s empty chest cavity.
“What? Who’s heart?” Zack shifted into drive, eased the car past a log.
“The truck driver.” Colin mumbled.
The Porsche’s list of attributes might have been impressive, but snow tires were not on that list since Zack never took it out in the winter. His full concentration was on the obstacle course of logs he needed to maneuver around, so he didn’t hear Colin’s comment about missing hearts. After several white knuckled slips and slides he was able to get past the mess and back onto to open highway.
Road conditions had reached treacherous levels and with speeds that topped out at twenty five, the Porsche’s progress was faster only than a turtle at best. They passed one empty vehicle after another. Fortunate for them, the guard rail seemed to be the most popular place to crash, with a few vehicles abandoned in the middle of the road or left stranded on the median.
“You’re not going to school today. I don’t give a shit what mom says.” He glanced at Colin, who nodded in agreement. Zack turned his attention back to the road, while his thoughts wandered down a dark path towards an idea that grew larger in his mind. “Maybe you should call her.” He suggested after a moment.
Colin’s mind had traveled down that the same path. “What should I say?” He fished for his phone.
“Just call her.” He hoped he was wrong, but guessed that knowing what to say wasn’t going to be an issue. “Shit.” Zack pumped the breaks. Up ahead a jack knifed school bus blocked the road. The brothers shared a pensive look. Zack eased onto the shoulder to get around the bus. “Is there anyone inside?” He asked Colin.
Colin twisted around in his seat as they passed by, but it was no use. The Porsche sat too low to the ground. “I can’t see.” He slid back into his seat. “Should we check, you know, in case some kid’s in there?”
Zack responded by slowing to a stop next to the bus door. He shifted into park. “This time, you and the mutt stay in the car.” He jumped out, not waiting to hear any protests, but Colin had no intention of going inside the bus. An old truck driver sliced open was one thing, but there was no way in hell he could stomach seeing a kid in the same condition.
A few minutes of eternity dragged by as he and the dog waited. “Coast is clear.” Zack announces upon return, relief in his voice and expression. There were some things no one had the stomach for, no matter how many hard knocks they had taken over the years. “Did you call mom?”
“Not yet. I was waiting for you to come back.” Colin lied.
“So call her.”
Colin called, but
hung up on her voice mail. “Voice mail.”
“Try again.” Zack insisted.
“Why don’t you call her?” He shoved the phone in brother’s face.
“Can’t. It’s against the law.”
“You’re hardly a law abiding citizen.” Colin waved the phone in his face.
Zack smacked his hand away. “Quit fuckin around and call her.” His voice had an edginess that took Colin by surprise.
“What’s your problem?” Colin snapped.
“Look around genius. Ya think this shit’s only happenin’ in Colorado? All this shit we’re seein’?” He turned the volume up on the radio. “Hear that?” The only sound from the speakers was static.
“It’s just the snow storm is all.” Colin replied in a voice projecting more confidence than he felt.
“It’s fucking September, not November.” Zack snapped.
“Just change the station.” Colin turned the knob, pausing to listen at each turn. White noise was the only sound emitted from the speakers.
The remainder of the ride was quiet, save the sound of their mother’s voice repeating over and over that she was not available and to please leave a message. An hour later Zack pulled the Porsche off the highway onto a narrow black top road running alongside an empty cow pasture. Five miles up the road they arrived at a ranch house.
15 PUEBLO
Austin sat in the corner near the drink coolers while Edward, the patient turned caregiver, administered water to Luke. Every so often Austin’s eyes crept up to the clock, where they stayed transfixed for several seconds before rolling in the direction of the door and returning to stare blankly at Edward and Luke. The clock was ticking off the minutes slower than a dripping faucet could fill a ten gallon bucket.
“She’ll make it back.” Edward offered up.
“I know she will.” Was Austin’s stone faced reply. And he went back to watching the clock.
The fever had turned Luke delirious. “Emma.” He mumbled. “Emma you gonna make it to my game?” He tried to sit up, but Edward gently pushed him back down. A cool cloth and a couple of Tylenol weren’t doing much to remedy his fever. The most recent thermometer reading topped out at one hundred three, only a half degree lower than when Ed checked one hour prior.
The Harvest Page 14
