by William Oday
She folded over the top and passed it to him. She took his arm and guided him to the front door. After looking him over, she licked her thumb and mashed down the hair that he’d spent so much effort meticulously spiking.
“I’m so proud of you. Your father would be proud.”
Her voice broke as she mentioned him.
“Thanks, mom,” Elio replied quietly. Her making such a big deal out of a crappy delivery job was a little embarrassing. And it was especially making him feel crappy that he’d lied about it starting today.
But the alternative was to tell her the truth and then deal with both lying about the job and also staying out last night.
“Well, I gotta go.”
He opened the door and headed out.
And made it as far as the length of their arms with her hand still latched to his.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten last night.”
She released his hand and he fled out the door to escape.
Of course, she didn’t forget. She wasn’t the forgive and forget type.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wandering around for a few hours hadn’t done much to clear his head or present a good solution. He was in deep shit with both his mother and Mason. He hadn’t had much time to gauge Theresa’s emotional state before Mason marched him home so that was yet another landmine waiting to go off.
Part of him thought it was a huge mistake to take her. A big part. But another part gave that part the finger. So what if they snuck out one night?
It shouldn’t be illegal to be out after dark. That was BS. This was the United States, after all.
Or what was left of it, at least.
His more immediate concern was what he was going to do for the rest of the day. He couldn’t go home until evening or his mother wouldn’t believe him about the job.
A stupid thought entered his mind.
A responsible one.
Something that might make him feel better about all the dumbass things he’d done.
He’d go to work.
For real.
Or at least show up and see if he could help out with anything.
He walked east on Pine toward the city’s one and only Post Office and delivery service. He made it there in another twenty minutes. He strolled in and stopped at a counter with a woman standing behind it.
She didn’t respond so he rapped a knuckle to get her attention.
She looked up with disinterested eyes.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Elio. I was hired a few days ago. I start next week.”
“Yeah, so why are you here today?”
His brilliant plan to do the right thing suddenly sounded ridiculous. Worse, it sounded like how a child would try to fix a problem.
“Uhh, I thought I could get started early.”
“As much as I love an eager beaver, I don’t have the extra staff to train you until next week.”
Elio’s shoulders slumped. He sighed. “Oh, okay.” He turned to walk out as she returned her attention to whatever it was that mattered more to her than his life.
The phone rang as he opened the door to leave.
“Wait!” she shouted as it started to close behind him.
He jumped back inside.
“Yes?”
She raised a finger telling him to wait while speaking into the phone. “Absolutely. I’ll have someone come over immediately,.” She hung up and shook her head. “It’s your lucky day, kid. I’ve got a higher-than-top priority run and everyone else is busy. Looks like you’re it.”
Elio grinned so wide his jaws hurt.
She flipped up the counter to let him pass through. “Come on. I’ll tell you enough to get by while you get dressed.”
“Get dressed?”
She looked at his clothes. “Yes. We wear a uniform so people know it’s us and not some random kid trying to steal their stuff.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
She dug some clothes out of a locker in a back room and closed the door for him to change. She spoke through the door as he sorted through the seriously ugly threads.
“The Vice-President has apparently forgotten his briefcase again. This time, it’s at the security checkpoint at Divisadero and the 101. The inauguration ceremony starts at noon today and he needs to have it before then. So they want us, meaning you, to pick it up there and drop it off at City Hall before noon.”
“Okay,” Elio replied as he pulled on a button-up, short-sleeve, sky blue shirt with a USPS patch on the chest. Definitely not his style.
He grimaced.
And it reeked like it had never been washed.
Worn? Yes. Tons.
Washed? No. Not once.
“We’ll get you set up with a bike. It shouldn’t take more than an hour so you’ve got plenty of time. Now, that doesn’t mean to go sight-seeing. Got that?”
“These clothes smell like a moldy attic.”
“This is the Vice-President we’re talking about. You get the briefcase to him on time. I’m not going to lose my job over this. You understand me?”
“Seriously, have these ever seen the inside of a washing machine?”
“Hey! Are you hearing what I’m saying?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.”
Less than five minutes later, he was guiding a bike out the front door and wondering exactly what he’d gotten himself into.
On the up side, he now had a phone. It was restricted to work-related use, but still, it was cool to once again have a piece of working technology from before the outbreak.
He swung a leg over the bike seat and started to pedal. The chain slipped and he nearly sliced his ankle on the gear ring.
This bike had seen better days.
It had seen those days, then died a horrible death, and then been given to him to ride.
He shifted the gears and carefully worked the chain back into place. Once he got going, it rode okay despite the racket of the chain constantly scraping against of the frame.
He glanced at a passing window and stopped the bike in front to check out his reflection. He looked so legit it was ridiculous. Navy pants and the sky blue shirt. He scratched at the patch on his chest. An eagle with US MAIL below. So official he laughed at himself. Here he was pissed about the government curfew and yet he was out delivering packages for it the next day.
Life had its ironies.
Elio knew that better than most.
He rode north another block and then realized something critically important. He had no clue where the security checkpoint was. Divisadero was somewhere over by Theresa’s house, but he had no idea where that met up with the 101.
He pulled out the phone and loved how he was about to use it. Make a phone call. On a phone. It had been months since he’d done something so ordinary and yet so amazing. Ol’ Alex Bell knew what was up.
He called Central Dispatch.
“Central Dispatch. What?”
It was his boss again, and the tone of her voice made it clear she wasn’t happy to get a call.
“Umm, hi. It’s Elio. I, uhh, don’t know where I’m going.”
“Oh, for the love of everything holy! Why do they force these idiots on me?”
“Is that a rhetorical question? Because if not, I don’t know the answer.”
“Quiet! The checkpoint is located at the intersection of Divisadero and the 101.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know where that is.”
A sound like a baboon giving birth blasted out of the speaker.
“Ride west until you hit the perimeter fence. Then follow it north until you hit the 101.”
“Oh, that sounds easy.”
“Thank all the angels in heaven! He’s not a delta idiot.”
The line went dead.
Somehow, he didn’t think he was going to jive with his new boss.
He rode another block and then stopped. The cold wind seemed to be finding every crease and crack and funneling directly down to his bare skin. He untied the gray hoodie from
around his waist and slipped into it.
He zipped it up and pulled the hood down over his face. That was warmer. A little.
Elio didn’t mind San Francisco, but it would’ve been a lot better with the SoCal sun overhead.
He got rolling again heading west toward the edge of the Green Zone. He crested a hill and looked down two blocks of steep street.
Awesome.
He kicked it up another gear and pedaled hard into it.
After the first fifty feet, he was whizzing along.
It was amazing.
Speed and freedom mixed together into a single heady cocktail.
Until the chain locked up, causing him to swerve, hit a sidewalk, and rocket over the handlebars.
He landed on his back.
On a bush.
He stared up at the gray sky waiting to see if he was dead.
He wasn’t.
He slowly got to his feet and felt around his body. He was banged up a little, but no real injuries to be found.
Damn! That was awesome!
This was his lucky day!
He turned to the bike and found the chain broken into several pieces. The front rim was bent in half.
It was going nowhere fast.
Which meant he’d have to walk.
Mall-walk maybe to ensure he made it on time.
He leaned the bike against a tree and noted the street to come back for it later. He mall-walked for a while and made it to the fence. He followed it north and eventually ended up at the security check point.
A soldier stepped out of the small guard house with a rifle in his hands. A large sign next to the road made it clear what was beyond.
YOU ARE LEAVING
THE GREEN ZONE
The soldier intersected Elio’s approach and held up a hand. “Hold up, son. We can’t let you go for a stroll out there.”
Elio had walked fast over quite a few steep hills so he was out of breath. “No, I’m not here to go out.” He squeezed the pinch in his side.
“Well, this ain’t much of a spot for sight-seeing either. So, I’m going to have to ask you to head back.”
“I’m here,” he breathed, “to pick up a briefcase.” He unzipped his hoodie and pointed at the badge on his shirt.
“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” The soldier turned and shouted to one of the others inside. “Hey Buttsmack! The kid’s here for the briefcase! Bring it out!”
Another soldier hustled out with the briefcase and handed it to his boss. His boss looked it over and then handed it to Elio.
“Thanks. Uh, do you happen to know how long it takes to walk to City Hall from here?”
“Shit, it ain’t fast. Takes maybe an hour or so.”
Elio checked his phone.
11:11 AM.
“Crap!” he said. “Gotta go!”
The soldier laughed. “Good luck, kid! I wouldn’t want to piss off the top brass.”
Elio had no intention of pissing off anyone. He was going to run his ass off to get there on time. He breathed through the pinch in his side.
Or he was going to die trying.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
He ran until his lungs felt like bursting, until his legs burned like his pants were on fire.
And then he kept running.
Another twenty minutes and he staggered onto the front grounds of City Hall sweating like a pig and sucking air like an asthmatic. He glanced at his phone.
11:51 AM.
Minutes to spare. He deserved a raise!
Elio looked around. Where was he supposed to deliver it? In the rush, no one had thought to give him any more specific instructions. And City Hall wasn’t a small building.
Whatever. He’d figure it out. He’d made it this far.
A crowd of several hundred gathered around a raised stage on the front lawn of the building. Chairs lined the stage behind an open area in front. President Cruz stood at the podium holding up what looked like a mobile phone. He smiled broadly and everyone cheered at whatever it was he had just said. Mason stood nearby, his eyes sweeping back and forth. Numerous other presumably important people occupied the few seats on the stage.
Elio glanced over them and didn’t recognize the Vice-President. And then he realized he had no idea what the man looked like. He vaguely recalled hearing somewhere that he used to be a senator from Vermont or Delaware or something. But he couldn’t remember the name or the face.
Without the internet, things didn’t get around like they used to.
He headed toward a security gate figuring they could tell him where to leave the briefcase. He queued up as the people ahead were hurried through.
“What do you have in the briefcase?” a security guard asked as Elio made it to the front of the line.
“Dunno. It’s not mine. I’m supposed to—”
The man shot him a suspicious look. “Open it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s the Vice-President’s. I’m just the delivery guy.”
The man looked Elio up and down, his brows pinched together.
“The uniform, right.” Elio unzipped his hoodie to reveal the official shirt and patch.
“Identification,” the man said as he held out his hand.
Elio sighed. He hadn’t gotten any kind of official employee ID yet.
“Arms out and legs spread.” The man leveled a blank stare at him while waving a wand over his body. It beeped when it got near the briefcase.
“Already told you. Not mine and I can’t open it,” Elio said. He didn’t have the four digit code, and he didn’t think the government would think highly of him snooping even if he did.
“Which one is the Vice-President?”
The guard pointed to a man seated at the right end of the single row of chairs on the stage. Like he’d been relegated to the cheap seats.
“Thanks,” Elio said as he took a step forward before the guard dropped a hand in front of his chest. “I was told he had to have this immediately. If he doesn’t get it, it’s on you.”
The guard crumbled. “Go.”
Elio zipped back up and fast-walked inside the event. He skirted around the back edge of the crowd and made it down the relatively clear side aisle on the right.
Elio darted through pockets of people and approached the right side of the stage. He held up the briefcase trying to get the Vice-President’s attention. He glanced at his phone.
A few minutes to noon.
He definitely deserved a raise.
A broad-chested man in a dark suit stepped over to block his path. One of Mason’s agents. The suit did little to hide the thick muscles coiled underneath. The deadly serious look in his eye communicated a silent warning. “What are you doing?”
“Delivering the Vice-President’s briefcase.” Elio pulled the neck of his hoodie down to show the official US MAIL patch.
The agent sighed and shook his head. This apparently happened a lot. He took the briefcase and held it up as the Vice-President saw it and nodded in relief. An aide scurried over and retrieved it. She set it in the Vice-President’s lap and then took her seat next to him. They whispered back and forth.
The agent turned back to Elio and spoke into the mic tucked into his sleeve. “All cl—”
An explosion slammed the guy forward knocking Elio over like a bowling pin.
Elio grunted in pain as the agent landed on top of him. He stared up into wide, lifeless eyes.
He rolled to the side and squirmed free. His ears rang so loud it hurt. He pushed up on his elbows and saw people running everywhere. Some were covered in blood. Gray smoke drifted in the air. He struggled to his feet to avoid being trampled. The ground tilted like the deck of a ship in a storm.
A woman bumped into him. Her mouth looked like it was screaming but he couldn’t hear a thing over the ringing. Blood leaked from her ears.
He glanced up to the stage.
The area around where the
Vice-President had been sitting was completely demolished. Chairs mingled with bodies in twisted heaps of metal and flesh.
The panicked energy of the crowd washed over him like a suffocating blanket. He tried to breathe but the air was too thick.
He had to escape, to break free.
So he did what he’d been doing all morning.
He ran.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MASON stood a few feet to the right of the president. He scanned the crowd, back and forth, row by row. Four hundred people occupied seats spread out on the front grounds of the Capitol building. The last few rows were still being filled by latecomers. He keyed the mic clipped to his cuff and brought it close enough to pick up.
“All stations check. Midas is ready to speak.”
Miro laughed and the sound came through clear as a bell through the receiver in Mason’s ear. “I still can’t believe he chose that. It’s like he only read half the story.”
Mason didn’t like busting his balls in front of the other agents, but now was not the time for grab-assing. He looked to his right where Miro was posted down in front of the stage. “Agent Pike, sitrep.”
“All clear, boss” Miro replied with a stiff tone showing that he got the message. The other stations checked in with nothing to report.
Mason scanned the area one more time and noticed Chief Fowler arriving at the back. Come to enjoy the spectacle. Whatever. Didn’t matter as long as he kept his nose out of the operation.
The President looked over and Mason gave the barest hint of a nod. Cruz kissed his wife’s cheek and then rose to take the podium. The crowd clapped and cheered as he half-heartedly tried to wave them to silence.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
They finally settled and he continued.
“Today, we honor one of the hallowed traditions prescribed in our constitution. The oath of office was first given to George Washington in 1789 and it has been given to every subsequent president since. Due to the nature of our current crisis, we will not wait to do it in January as has become the tradition. And in this single act, we pay homage to two of the best traditions of our country. One, to abide by and respect the constitution of the United States of America. And two, to also be flexible and respond to the changing world around us.”
