by Lahey, Tyler
“Not a chance. I’ve had to deal with a lot of bullshit, and I’m still here.”
She met his eyes and transfixed him with an incisive gaze, the darkness in her pupils glittering. “What kind of bullshit has Bennett had to deal with?”
“Well, for starters….”
“Go on.”
“We’re about to pity fuck. You’re going to sleep with me because you feel bad for me.”
Adira chuckled. “No, no, no. Let’s not get this mixed up. I’m doing this for myself, to clean my conscious a little bit. I’m not a philanthropist.”
“Adira, the sexual philanthropist? Got a nice ring, I guess.”
She drew back. “There’s a word for that, ya know. Did you just call me a slut?”
Bennett stuttered, his pulse racing in a moment of panic. But he wouldn’t be surprised if he failed here, yet again. “I feel like, I always find a way to fuck it up.”
Adira’s indignation evaporated. “Relax. See? You’re too uptight. It was a joke.”
“It wouldn’t be for some girls. Ummm, excuse me, did you just call me a slut?”
Adira giggled. “You have that impersonation down pretty well? What do you call it?”
“How’s slutty Zeta-Alpha-Omega Pi Kappa girl work for you?”
“That’s entirely too long for a sorority name, but I accept.”
Bennett felt his heartbeat pounding, and he could feel nausea building inside him as the dark eyed girl sat expectantly next to him. He knew if he waited too long, he would never move. He leaned in, and she happily reciprocated.
Chapter Five
Three hours before Outbreak. Washington, D.C
Of all people, it had to be him.
Elvis tried to smile. Troy strolled up, his luscious beard looking rather absurd in combination with a shaved head. Elvis sighed, knowing most people were intimidated by the aggressive man. Troy’s relentless energy didn’t mingle well with Elvis’s own suave, manufactured style. They were the first two to arrive at the docks, much to their shared chagrin. Elvis shifted in his seat, annoyed with his own rising anxiety. He craned his head out over the water, hearing it slapping lazily at the old wooden posts green with mildew. The pair was extended out over the brown river, and a series of highways passed far overhead, elevated on massive columns. The capital was nothing like the cities to the north. Here, Elvis hardly felt “buzzing” was an appropriate word. It was a city of schools, of rich white men and women sweating in expensive suits from 9 to 5, and of a massive bureaucratic system of equally sweaty men and women wearing decidedly cheaper suits. What little character the capital offered, he had never been impressed with.
Troy slouched in his chair next to Elvis, rubbing his shaved head and entirely comfortable to wait out the moments in silence that was only awkward for one of them.
“What’s she doing here?”
A girl trying her best to look casual and succeeding famously strutted across the wooden planks out towards the end of the docks. Elvis saw her curvy form moving towards them and then met her bright hazel eyes with an interior groan. He was smitten, and he knew it.
He smiled weakly, “Hi Harley.” Her delicious energy struck him, her face at once bright and expressive.
“I was looking for you two,” she said happily, reaching out to feel the soft stubble on Troy’s buzzed head.
“The company just got that much better!” Troy yelled excitedly, to Harley’s obvious delight. “No offense, Elvis.”
Elvis just grunted in reply, and began counting the number of dragonflies that were currently annoying him.
“The others are coming soon, I think. But, I actually wanted to speak to Elvis.”
Elvis felt the surprise leap in his chest, and struggled not to show it. He coiffed his jet black hair tediously.
“Well then I’ll leave you to it. I really shouldn’t leave you alone with Elvis though, he has unnaturally high testosterone. Impregnates women with a simple glance,” Troy walked off chuckling to himself, no doubt impressed by his own perceived wit.
Stubbornly, Elvis continued to look stoically at the sluggish river. He felt Harley drag a seat up next to him. She waited calmly, revealing herself to be a keener judge of character than any of the others knew.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
He looked to her directly. “Isn’t it absurd? How much power you have over me. I can honestly laugh about it. You can pretty much ask me to do anything and I would do it. What the hell is up with that?”
Harley raised her eyebrows, but she did not smile.
“It’s not worth it. I’m done with it, done with that weakness,” Elvis finished in a rush, satisfied with himself.
“How many dates have you taken me on?” Harley asked pointedly.
Elvis looked at her hands, trying not to fidget. “Four.”
“And how many times did you walk me to my door and not get aggravated when I decided to walk up alone?”
“That would also be a nice, even four. Why did you hook up with Liam?“
“Elvis, we didn’t sleep together.”
Elvis felt his jaw click. “What do you mean?”
“Look, guys want me. Even your friends will want me, despite themselves. That’s how it’s always going to be, till even my plastic surgery and spray tans fail me at 55. But I’m interested in you. Don’t give up yet, please.”
Elvis felt his heart hammering, and like a movie the scenes of him touching Harley began racing thru his mind. He couldn’t stop it, even though he wanted to.
“Liam is like our aunt. The group’s loving aunt.”
Harley laughed giddily. “I might have gone with uncle.”
Elvis looked away, annoyed at himself. He didn’t see her leaning closer until his nostrils were suddenly full of her smell. He opened his mouth to speak but faltered as she pressed her lips to his quickly and softly. Then she pulled away, and he was at a loss for words.
“I’m sorry if I made this way harder for you.” She said, eyes bashful.
Elvis sighed even as he felt his body buzzing. “No you’re not.” His mind seemed to work more slowly, with none of its typical, smooth pep.
“No, I’m not,” she said with a smile.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. “This is bullshit. This always happens to me.” Elvis ran his hands through his pompadour.
Harley suddenly shouted back towards the shoreline, raising her hand and waving. “The others are here. Don’t forget what I said, ok?” She jumped up. The old oak boards creaked precariously as her auburn hair swung back and forth.
The cacophony of drums competed with the growing din of warm-air insects. Two-dozen sets of hands thumped an eclectic collection of hand drums. Adira observed the drum circle, spread out over the downtown park. These people all just brought their own drums and hammered out a beat, unrehearsed. While her head was hammering delightfully from the drum-beats, her dark eyes tried to pick out which dancers felt awkward. She loved trying to pick out these sorts of things. One tall figure in a skin-tight skirt moved suggestively with her eyes closed while biting her ample lower lip. Adira pursed her own in amusement; the dancer was putting on a show for a crowd of eager young men. Another woman she saw dancing reservedly, as men with dreadlocks and faded tank tops hammered out the beat behind her, with her eyes darting this way and that, making sure she didn’t look too silly. Still many others barely moved at the fringes of the drum circle, looked eager to join but unsure how to do so.
Adira looked to the man closest to her. He seemed content to walk in silence, observing in the same way she did. Adira smiled; Bennett looked at ease, for once. She smirked. His walk was definitely a bit awkward as he swung his long arms. He met her eyes and raised them, before turning away again. She smiled lightly. The sex had been what she expected. Bennett had been far too nervous to try anything too crazy, and she doubted he was hard enough to make it happen. Obviously, she hadn’t finished. Still, it felt good to
help him.
The afternoon sun beat down on the group as they moved slowly along the little wood-lined paths.
She turned her arresting gaze back to Troy, who looked like a caveman. Two of his own Army-ROTC buddies followed close-by, with closely cropped heads and clean-shaved faces. She frowned slightly. Their confidence was manufactured, given to them by their new stations. If there was any violence in their reserved gaits, it was buffoonish rather than deadly.
Adira shot a glance backwards, at Elvis and Liam. The shorter one strutted, eyes narrowed to affect a fierce swagger. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh, to catcall him. The bigger one walked easily, his burly form moving as the chaperone of the group. As they walked, Liam made off-beat jokes and grinned effortlessly. Only Harley laughed. Adira had just met her the night before. The girl’s dynamic smile and charisma were probably alluring. She seemed to touch the stoic Elvis more than a few times, but her eyes always flicked eagerly towards Liam when he spoke.
Adira had caught Jaxton staring at herself more than once, but his intensity was off-putting. His grey eyes didn’t match his brown hair, but she had found herself looking at his muscled physique several times.
“Of course! These good people have parents that love them,” Liam said with a dramatic scowl. Adira saw several giddy, graduating students among the crowd, standing with proud parents. She felt a twinge of discomfort flush her face.
“Has anyone’s parents even made it down yet?”
Jaxton frowned. “My mom said there is traffic backed up for miles around the cities in the north. She said they’ve moved like ten miles the past two hours.”
Liam tapped him lightly with the back of his large hand, “Mine said the exact same thing. Are they on I-70?”
“No, mine tried to get a head start on Route 15. It’s totally jam-packed.”
“Our old friend Admiral Nelson calls, he’s getting lonely,” Troy said ruefully, his fierce gaze attracting the stares of more than a few women.
“We’re not drinking your shitty whiskey again, not a chance,” Liam exclaimed.
“My parents have been here since last night. Took them the regular 2 and a half hours yesterday. I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” Elvis said.
Jaxton gave him a little shove. “Quite puffin’ out your chest, youngblood. No one’s payin’ attention.”
“Give me a piece of that!” Adira cried from the back.
Elvis squinted and mocked her. “Oh, really funny. No, that’s great. I mean it.”
Harley fawned dramatically over his coiffed hair as he struggled to untangle himself from her embrace. “Don’t be such a grumpster.”
“Isn’t Cold Spring your town too Elvis? I didn’t take you for a hick as well.” Adira said.
“I’m actually quite a hit with the hick chicks. No, I am. They love the hair.” Elvis nodded to press home the guarantee.
The group had strayed away from the drum circle still thumping away under the weeping willow trees. Their steps took them closer to campus, past families reuniting at local restaurants and wandering around the city. Its lack of skyscrapers should have guaranteed a local charm, and the feel of distinct neighborhoods. Somehow, those developments had never materialized amid the endless collection of squat offices and government buildings.
As they wormed their way back through the crowds, the mood in the air began to shift. Though no one said anything, there seemed to be a tension hanging between certain families, who spoke in hushed whispers rather than joyous yelling. Almost all of them ignored the hair standing up on their spines, assured it was they alone who felt it. All save one.
Jaxton felt his pulse quicken, though he couldn’t say why. His mind had been so sluggish with the realization that he had no idea what to do with his life. And nothing called to him. So when he sensed the tension in the air, he clung to it desperately. It took his mind away from the mundane life he feared lay ahead. The others had already forgotten about it by the time they burst back into the air-conditioned dorm rooms. Jaxton mostly forgot as well, but he began to nurse a nebulous suspicion that something wasn’t right.
…
“How did we end up with this shit again?” Liam indicated the plastic bottle of whiskey with disgust, even as he fought to keep his last shot down.
“Nelson is a wily one,” Troy replied happily, tapping the poor depiction of a drunken admiral on the bottle. He leaned back happily in his chair, yawning excessively and moving his head with the music without shame. The six of them were cramped into a small apartment kitchen, shot glasses littering the table. The tiny air conditioning unit hummed loyal behind.
“Next. Next. Next.” The future-soldier took it upon himself to dictate what music would be acceptable.
“So needy. Here, let me,” Harley smiled absurdly as she took the iPod, revealing just how sober she wasn’t. Elvis wasn’t there, but she had found herself arriving with the rest of them. Troy opened his eyes with interest, watching her. “I think I know just your type,” she said.
Some instantly catchy female pop song began filling the tiny space with highly auto-tuned lyrics, to Troy’s utter joy.
Adira was frowning at her phone. Bennett dropped his voice, “What’s wrong?”
She leaned close to him, so he could smell her sultry perfume again. It dragged him to their last encounter, and he felt himself staring as she bit her thin lip. He didn’t care if it wasn’t very plump. “My parents aren’t even paying for my ticket home. I have to ship everything myself, and then take the fucking train.”
“I’ll help you pack, don’t worry.” Bennett forced a grin, but found himself beset by a creeping doubt. Most of their families lived in the same town, in the mountains of Western Pennsylvania. None had arrived save Elvis’s.
“Another toast!” Jax roared, feeling the energy. He loaded up the glasses and raised his own with a magisterial effort. “A toast to your coffin, everyone. No, just bare with me. I like this part. May it be made of 100-year-old oak. And may we plant the tree tomorrow.” Jaxton could feel his own eyes fluttering lazily, glassing over. He was met with a loud chorus of guffaws and jeers, a mix of loyal approval and mockery. They drained the glasses with zeal.
“So what’s the plan everyone? Graduate tomorrow. What’s the plan?” Liam belched and leaned forward, and Jaxton thought he saw Harley move closer too.
There was a silence as the room decided whether to spurn the question in mockery or to entertain it solemnly. It all depended on how much Admiral Nelson’s had been guzzled.
Harley held up her palm, slouching on the table. “I’ll be an explorer. And never get married. And have a shitload of kids with names like Pemberly and Vanelopee.” She sighed and placed her throbbing head of auburn hair on the table.
Bennett looked to Adira, seated at his side. “Eloquence at its finest.” Adira giggled, already feeling much closer to him than a few hours ago. Liam looked at him sharply, through a haze of shifting shapes. “What did you mumble over there?”
Bennett leaned back, stretching his long arms and scratching the poor-man’s goatee he had nourished over a few weeks. Jaxton was already amused; trying to figure out which way his friend Bennett would choose to answer the question. He suspected he could give an in-depth, realistic answer born from the heart, but Liam would most certainly reject that in his current state.
Bennett opened his mouth. “If we were all little kings with little kingdoms, I’d conquer you all one by one. You first Liam.”
Liam frowned. “You’re a weird kid, do you know that?”
Liam was startled slightly by Troy’s firm hand clapping him on the back, “I know what he means Liam, allow me to translate. He’s a prick. He would betray all of us to be the one true OG.”
“He’d be met with steel at every turn,” Jaxton grinned, knowing they all sounded foolish.
“No, you guys are all a bunch of weirdos,” Adira muttered.
Troy slapped the table, startling Harley out of her whiskey-induced coma.
“Alright, I can feel my balls retracting into my body. Change this music.”
“Amen. What are we feeling? How about that Shania Twain song? The one from the sad dog commercial. That commercial is my favorite.” Jaxton said.
“It’s Sarah Mclaughlin. And no, we’re not putting that god awful shit on,” Bennett shook his head.
Liam suddenly rose, touching Harley on the shoulder. Before anyone could speak, he took her hand lightly and they stalked into the family room. The remaining four chuckled softly, sharing a moment of realization.
“Wait, turn it down!” Troy leapt excitedly to his feet like a school-boy and not the bearded menace he was. He pressed his face to the glass window, craning his neck to look up into the dark clouds. The muffled thumping of helicopter blades droned faintly in the musty dorm room.
“The local news chopper. A thrilling development for the resident ape,” Jaxton said sarcastically. He grinned to himself, pleased people knew him for refusing to abide by political correctness.
Troy frowned, backing away slightly. “No, actually there were a few of them. Little Birds, with operators on the sides too.”
Adira laughed gaily. “One minute he’s lost in Taylor Swift’s words of wisdom, next he’s a serious warrior.”
Troy’s face held a mixture of amusement and concern. He felt something, a certain itch, but it wasn’t anything he could quite place his finger on. “Yeah let me know if you ever need to be rescued out of a tower, damsel. No it’s just a bit strange, to be flying night exercises over this part of town.”
Jaxton felt his own face twitch slightly, and his pulse quickened. There was a scattering of footsteps in the living room, and Liam returned with Harley in tow, looking decidedly more sober. “Something’s going on in New York.” Jaxton saw she was leaning on Liam for support.
“What do you mean?” Adira stood, hands white from gripping the table.
“The news just started reporting New York is in some sort of blackout, like electronically and physically. There’s no cell service or lights or anything.”
