Just a Little Junk

by Stylo Fantome

  “I’ve been chased, I’ve been shot at it, I’ve been thrown out of a building, and I nearly drowned. What’s next!?” she moaned, going limp in his arms.

  “Oh, stop it. C’mon, upsy daisy.”

  The concrete lip of the pool scratched against her bare stomach as Archer shoved her up over the side. She scrambled to her feet, trying to untwist the oversized sweater from around her chest. She watched while Archer hauled himself out of the water, then they both looked up.

  “Holy shit,” she breathed, suddenly glad she hadn’t been looking down during her fall.

  “Right? We gotta go before they start shooting down here,” he urged, gently pushing against her back and guiding her to the front of the building.

  “I’m not wearing any pants or shoes!” she squealed, running on tip toes over grass that ran alongside the sidewalk. Archer was at least mostly dressed, looking almost normal. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had time to grab his shoes, either.

  “Wanna go back up there and get them?” he offered, breaking into a jog and moving past her into some bushes.

  “Not really. Shit, I forgot we have to take the bike!” she moaned, raking her hands through her wet hair as he rolled his motorcycle out from its hiding spot and into the road.

  “Our only option. C’mon! They’re coming out of the building!” he hissed as he jumped onto the bike. She chewed on her bottom lip while he kick started it, then looked over her shoulder. Two guys were hustling up the street towards an SUV. Then she looked back at Archer. He was leaning towards her, his arm outstretched, offering her his hand.

  Beats walking down Ventura Boulevard in your bare feet with your ass hanging out.

  She took his hand and climbed on, then clung to him as they raced off down the street.

  10:10 a.m.

  Day Two

  Jo sat on top of a picnic bench with her feet resting on the seat below her. She would’ve much rather been sitting inside, but McDonald’s apparently had a strict no-pants-no-service policy.

  Nazis.

  Of course, she was also barefoot, and her hair was absolutely crazy. After Archer’s insane drive through every single back road he could find, the wind had completely blown up her hair. It was easily sticking up eight inches all around her skull, giving her an interesting looking halo. People walking in and out of the fast food restaurant stared at her like she was rabid.

  “Okay, I got you two sausage egg McMuffins, a hashbrown, and coffee – black,” Archer popped up next to her and specified before she could ask about the drink. She took the warm cup first, holding it between her cold hands and blowing into it.

  “Thanks,” she grumbled, taking a sip. He sat down next to her and she listened as he dug around in the bag of food he’d brought out.

  “C’mon, Jojo. You can’t still be mad at me. I knew the pool was right under you,” he insisted. “It was like … thirty, forty feet, tops. I wouldn’t have dropped you if I’d thought there’d been any chance you could get hurt.”

  She sighed.

  “I guess I can cross cliff diving off my bucket list.”

  “There’s the spirit!”

  They sat in silence for a while, munching on their sandwiches and sipping at coffee. She felt like she was missing something, though. Something important. They hadn’t learned much at Krakow’s, she’d never gotten a chance to go through the guy’s computer, but still. There was an important clue somewhere back there, and she just wasn’t seeing it.

  I can’t think straight while my ass is freezing off.

  “C’mon,” she said, sliding off the table and gently lowering her feet to the ground. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Huh?” he grunted, looking up at her, his mouth full of hashbrowns.

  “Let’s go to Walmart. I need pants and we need jumper cables,” she told him.

  “That’s it? Don’t you want to talk about getting shot at? Or eat your food? Or bitch about … everything?” he asked, sounding skeptical.

  “Shut up, Archer, I’m trying to be nice for a change. I can’t run around all day without pants on. If you go slow, I can eat the other sandwich while you drive.”

  “Whoa now, both hands around my waist at all times – I haven’t risked my life all weekend just to have you fall off the back of my bike,” he said, climbing off the table as well and handing her the bag of food.

  “Well, at least keep it under fifty.”

  “I make no promises.”

  *

  Luckily, someone in Jo’s condition didn’t get many double looks at Walmart. She beelined for the clothing section and grabbed the first pair of shorts she saw that weren’t absolutely hideous. Then she grabbed a t-shirt from a clearance rack, and on a whim, a nice lightweight athletic jacket.

  After spending about fifteen minutes in a changing room, trying to get her hair back under control, she went and found a pair of sneakers. She hopped up to a check out line, all the tags in her hands, while slipping into a pair of socks. Archer appeared behind her, also looking more like a human being. He’d changed into fresh clothing, and had not only grabbed a pair of jumper cables, but also an entirely new battery. He was also holding a basket full of random tools and car accessories and a backpack.

  “That’s going to take a lot of our cash,” she pointed out, trying to remember how much money they had left.

  “I want to get that car started,” he explained simply. “We can use my card for this stuff.”

  “You have enough to cover this?” Jo asked in a skeptical voice as she took in all the junk they were buying. Archer didn’t look at her, just started loading things onto the conveyor belt.

  “Yeah, I should be fine.”

  Before they got back on the bike, Jo yanked her thick brown hair all up into a tight bun. She wasn’t dealing with that mess again, if she could avoid it. Archer handed her the backpack full of the car stuff, then they were racing off towards the strip club.

  She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when they pulled into the parking lot and she saw her shitty car still sitting there. She’d halfway expected it to have disappeared, or for it all to have been some sort of horrible nightmare.

  But it had all been real. The car was still there – as was the body, as a quick glance in the trunk confirmed. They tried once to get the engine to start, then Archer got to work, laying out everything he would need to change out the battery. Jo sat behind the wheel for a while, but she couldn’t hear anything he was saying, so she eventually moved to sit on the roof of the car.

  “So let’s go over everything,” she suggested, trying to match up the puzzle pieces in her mind. She still felt like she wasn’t grasping something she’d learned back at Krakow’s apartment. While she thought, she scanned the roads around them. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, just knew that she wanted to be able to run before any more bullets started flying.

  “Huh?” Archer grunted from under the hood.

  “Dead dude in the trunk. Bernard Krakow. Been following me for … what, like two weeks?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “We don’t know why.”

  “Sure.”

  “He’s a drug dealer,” she added. “And has friends who are looking for him.”

  “Yup.”

  “Friends he is most definitely fucking over with that baking soda trick you told me about.”

  “Okay.”

  “But …” she let her voice trail off as her brain raced.

  “Sounds good.”

  “I stopped talking,” she laughed. He glanced around the hood.

  “I haven’t been paying attention. C’mon, let’s test this sucker out.”

  She hopped to the ground and got back behind the wheel. With a hope and prayer, she cranked the ignition, then nearly cried when the engine roared to life. Archer clapped, then gathered up all the tools and tossed them into the backseat.

  “Finally, something goes right. Will my bike be okay here?” he asked as he slid into the passenger sea
t. She frowned, trying to remember what they’d been talking about before they’d restarted the car.

  “Yeah, it should be fine,” she mumbled, tapping her nails against her bottom lip. He finally glanced at her.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Thinking. Baking soda … Krakow … friends …” she prattled off, trying to recapture her train of thought.

  “Friends who know your boss well enough for him to give up your information,” Archer added. Jo snapped her fingers as every single thought slid into its proper place, possibly for the first time since their whole ordeal had began.

  “Hey! Yeah, his friends! Those guys shooting at us, at his apartment? I saw them, before I got on your bike. Two of them looked like the dudes from our place, the ones who shot at you last night,” Jo told him.

  “So? They shot at us last night, they shot at us this morning,” he said. She shook her head and put the car in reverse before peeling out of her spot.

  “That’s the thing – how could they have possibly known we were at Krakow’s place? I had thought at first they were there looking for their friend. But why the whole ‘police, open up’ act? Why start shooting? Is that how they say hi?” she asked, pulling into traffic. Archer nodded.

  “Yeah … yeah, I hadn’t thought of it that way. Why start shooting at their buddy’s apartment? Maybe they knew about his baking soda trick,” he suggested.

  “Maybe … but still, why the whole act? Why not just break down his door and pistol whip him?”

  “Pistol whip?”

  “Whatever drug dealers do,” she said. “I don’t know. Shooting through the door seems a little overkill. Seems a little like they didn’t think Krakow was there, at all. Seems like they somehow knew we were there.”

  “Yeah, it does seem that way,” he said. “You didn’t tell anyone? Didn’t text anyone?”

  “No, no one. Who am I going to text? My stripper friends? My mom? The only person I’d text this kind of crazy shit to is you,” she laughed.

  She had expected him to laugh, too, but when she looked over, Archer wasn’t even smiling. He looked confused, and even a little angry. His brow was furrowed and he had his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing back and forth.

  Nervous gesture.

  “Yeah …” was all he said, his voice low.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, glancing between him and the road.

  “I’m thinking that it looks like you’re heading home,” he replied, pointing ahead of them. Jo frowned.

  “Force of habit, I guess. I always go straight home after work. Do you … could they still be there?” Jo asked. He shrugged.

  “I don’t know. I doubt it – they were looking for us, and obviously we weren’t there. Do a slow drive by first,” he suggested.

  They did just that, cruising past their building’s parking lot at a slow speed. Jo sunk so low in her seat, she could barely see over the dash. Archer laughed at her and pointed out that a car moving without a driver was more suspicious than just acting normal, but she held her position till they were clear of the complex.

  There were no strange cars out front, and no henchmen looming in the doorway, so they decided to risk it and circled back. Jo parked away from the building’s entrance, close to the sidewalk, in case they had to make a quick get away. Then Archer made her wait in the car while he checked out the front door. It felt like a lifetime had passed before he leaned out and waved that it was all clear. She got out of the car and jogged over.

  “What if they’re in the apartment?” she whispered, clutching Archer’s t-shirt as they moved through the entryway and up the stairs.

  “We’ll go slowly,” he assured her, stopping at the door to the second floor. “Stay behind me at all times – if it looks like someone is in there, we’ll go right past and head to my apartment, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Archer opened the door and peeked his head out. Jo held her breath, then let it out when they moved into the hallway.

  They tip toed along, Archer hugging the wall, and her practically hugging his back. Everything was quiet, and when she glanced around him, she saw that her door was closed. That didn’t mean much, though, because the bad guys could be sitting in her living room. Commenting on her thrift store furniture, watching her illegal cable.

  Fuckers.

  Before they could reach her apartment, though, another door opened. Jo nearly had a heart attack, but before she could collapse, Archer all but slammed her back against the wall. He pressed his back to her front, completely hiding her from view.

  “Your little girly has done it now! That party last night was ridiculous! I called the police, I did, but the rat bastards never showed up. Typical! I’ll be calling the building manager, do you hear me? Your girly will get evicted this time!”

  Mrs. Copernicus, the old woman Jo had yelled at just yesterday morning. Had it really only been twenty-four hours?

  Time flies when you’re having fun.

  “We’ve been gone all night, Mrs. C,” Archer said in a careful voice. “What party?”

  “Nice try, Archer!” she snarled, brandishing her cane. “All that noise, thumping around, breaking things! On and on, until almost three in the morning. My cats were terrorized. Stupid cops, good for nothings. Wasted my breath calling them.”

  “Wait,” Jo finally spoke up, and she stood on her toes to look over Archer’s shoulder. “You called an actual police station, and they never sent anyone?”

  “Not anyone! Called three times. They claimed they sent a car around, but no one ever came. This town is disgusting. But don’t you worry, the manager will hear about you!” Mrs. Copernicus assured Jo.

  “I promise, Jo was with me all night,” Archer insisted. For whatever reason, the old woman had always taken a shine to him and tended to believe anything he said. He was the only one who could calm her down when she got into one of her temper tantrums.

  “Then who was making all that racket? No protecting her this time. I’m onto you!”

  And with that, Mrs. Copernicus stepped back and slammed her door shut.

  Apparently there’s no calming her down this time.

  “Three in the morning,” Jo said. “They must have come back after the shoot out and kept looking around.”

  “Yeah. Sounds like they’re not here anymore.”

  Archer started moving again, walking faster down the hall than before – Jo jogged to catch up to him in front of her door. They both stood still for a second, taking in the broken lock and dangling knob, then he pushed the door open.

  Jo had been expected the apartment to be a mess, but it still came as a shock. Cushions ripped up, shelves knocked over, her tv broken, the fridge standing open. They shuffled through the mess and moved into the kitchen, taking in the spoiled food and broken dishes.

  “Don’t move,” Archer suddenly said, and he jogged out of the room. Jo turned in a circle, feeling overwhelmed as her eyes combed over the mess. By the time she came back around to face the door, he was walking back into her apartment.

  “What’s out there?” she asked, slightly out of breath.

  How long will this take to clean? I hate cleaning.

  “Checking out my place. They hit it, too. Looks just as bad,” he told her, standing next to her.

  “What were they looking for? What could they possibly expect to have found in here? I’m a waitress, for christ’s sake,” she groaned.

  “I’m sorry, Jo. For now, though, let’s … just collect some stuff, okay? Anything that’s important, you know? Some clothes, any money you may have stashed away, whatever,” he suggested.

  “Okay. Yeah, the closet. I keep all my important paper stuff there,” she sighed, going back into the living room and heading to the large closet near the front door.

  Of course, it had been ripped open and all the contents were spilled across the floor in front of it. Jo dropped to her knees and started sifting through everything, tossing aside scarves and shoes so she c
ould pick through the papers that were underneath them. Clearly, the bad guys weren’t interested in identity theft because she found all of her important documents right away, like her social security card and her birth certificate.

  She was still digging around when she heard a creaking noise in the hallway. The one thousand year old elevator that she was too scared to take – apparently, someone wasn’t afraid of it. It was groaning its way up the building. She glanced over her shoulder, finding Archer standing stock still in the kitchen.

  “Get away from the door,” he ordered, and she immediately stood up and backed into the kitchen with him.

  “Maybe it’s just -” she started to whisper, but was cut off by the sound of the elevator doors dinging open on their floor.

  “Move. Right now, move,” Archer hissed, shoving her down the hallway. She tripped over her feet and stumbled through the door at the opposite end. Her bedroom hadn’t been left untouched, but she was glad to see it didn’t look quite as bad as the rest of her apartment.

  “Please just be a neighbor,” she prayed, moving so she was behind Archer, who was against the wall next to her door. “Please, please, please.”

  “No such luck,” Archer sighed as the sound of heavy footsteps entered her living room. More shocking, though, was the gun he produced from behind his back.

  “Where the fuck did you get that?” she asked, her voice barely above a breath.

  “I grabbed it when I went over to my apartment – they forgot to look in the toilet tank,” he explained.

  “You just love hiding shit in toilet tanks, don’t you? Why the fuck do you have a gun, Archer?” she demanded.

  “Just be glad I have one, I -”

  “We know you’re back there!”

  Jo was so startled, she almost choked on a breath of air. She coughed into her jacket collar and tried to listen to whoever was yelling from her kitchen.

  “If you know that,” Archer shouted, “then you should also know we’re armed and dangerous.”

  “Awww, that’s cute. He’s armed and dangerous, you hear that?”

  “I heard. Adorable.”

  Jo screamed and hit the floor as bullets started flying. Before that weekend, she’d only been around guns a couple times in her whole life. Now it felt like she’d been running through a hail of bullets for the last twenty-four hours.