Our Contest

by Phillip Murrell

  “A flood?”

  “Panties can’t soak it all up. Between the two of us, the dams are gonna break.”

  “I’m gonna try one more time to see if Jenny can get out of work.”

  “Whatever, man, call her from the car. We gotta bounce.”

  Hunter doesn’t wait for Keith to respond. He just heads for the front door and exits the home. Keith hears the roar of Hunter’s engine. Keith wishes his parents would pool some money to buy him a car. Especially if he can somehow convince them to get him a sports car as nice as the one Hunter owns. Keith has to admit that his friend makes it easy to collect those panties he’s so interested in.

  With a final scratch of his face, Keith heads out the front door and locks it behind him. He jumps into the passenger seat, and the teens drive away for a night meant to distract them from the lingering threat above their heads.

  Donald drives an ambulance in silence as Alex desperately thinks of a way to repair their friendship.

  “I know you still don’t want to talk to me, but I’m just happy we’re a team again,” Alex says.

  “It is kind of nice,” Donald admits.

  “There’s my friend,” Alex jokes.

  “Try as I might, I can’t stay mad at you. I’m too tired to fight, so if we have to talk, we might as well talk about something good.”

  “Not much of that these days.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice. I saw a guy yesterday die in the hospital simply because nobody remembered to check in on him.”

  “What happened to his nurse?” Alex asks.

  “They found him asleep in a broom closet. The guy couldn’t stay awake and was too ashamed to admit it, so somebody had to die.”

  “Which nurse?”

  “Zane.”

  “Too bad. Anything happen to him?”

  “Like what? Punish him for coming in when nobody else will? I bought the guy lunch. It took me over an hour to get it, but I knew he needed to know we don’t blame him. There aren’t enough of us to keep everyone well.”

  “I wish Kim would accept that.”

  “That bad?”

  “She left with the kids for her parents a few days back.”

  “Ouch. I’m sorry to hear that, man, but I’m sure she’ll come back soon enough.”

  “I hope so. It’s hard to believe her leaving. I feel like I’m still in denial about the whole thing. It wasn’t long ago we were talking about having another baby, and now our home is empty. She’s gone. The kids are gone. I sleep at the hospital most nights.”

  “Don’t we all.”

  “I saw Dr. Sanders the other night walk into a closed door because of how tired she was. I think we need to start sending people home to sleep. If that means some people have to die, I hate saying it, but that’s just what it’ll have to mean.”

  “No, it, shit—”

  The blare of honking horns alerts Donald and Alex that their ambulance had drifted onto the left side of the road. They nearly missed causing an accident with a passing semi-truck.

  Donald pulls the ambulance to the right side of the road and parks the vehicle.

  “Were you trying to make my point?” Alex asks.

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m just messed up right now.”

  “You need me to drive?”

  “You know I’m the driver. I think we just need to head back to the hospital. What time is it anyway?”

  Alex looks at his watch.

  “It’s twenty-three hundred,” he responds.

  “In English?”

  “That was English.”

  “Why can’t you just say eleven o’clock like a normal person?”

  “Because that doesn’t make sense.”

  Donald throws up his arms.

  “How doesn’t that make sense?”

  “Because there are twenty-four hours in a day. So, it’s stupid to split it into twelve-hour halves.”

  “Says you.”

  “Not to mention the fact that the guy who invented the clock apparently didn’t know how to count.”

  “It’s twelve numbers. It isn’t that hard.”

  “Oh yeah? Then tell me when is twelve a.m. and when is twelve p.m.?”

  “Midnight is a.m. and noon is p.m. You have to come at me harder than that if you want to stump me.”

  “I wasn’t trying to stump you. In fact, you made my point.”

  “What point?”

  “If midnight is a.m. and noon is p.m., that means you technically have to count it twelve, one, two three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. Twelve a.m. is followed by one a.m.; that makes no sense and proves the guy didn’t know how to count. The simple moron thought twelve was the first number.”

  Donald puts the ambulance back into drive.

  “You’re such a dumbass,” Donald jokes.

  “I missed making you look stupid, too,” Alex responds.

  “Back to the hospital for a nap?”

  “Yes,” Alex answers.

  Donald merges back with the meager street traffic and heads toward the hospital.

  Maria enters the police department early in the morning after pulling a double shift. She rubs her eyes to keep them open as she searches for her target among the police officers who look as much like drones as she does.

  One of the people who’s wide awake and alert catches Maria’s eye. She hurries after him.

  “Gordon, wait up,” Maria says.

  Gordon searches for the person who called after him and spots Maria quickly approaching.

  “Yes—” Gordon says.

  “I’m Maria Pecos,” Maria answers his unasked question.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Gordon says as he offers his hand.

  Maria shakes it briefly but only as a formality.

  “I need you to summon a spirit for me.”

  “Absolutely. I’m booked for the next two months, but I can definitely squeeze you in by early October.”

  “Not good enough. I need to speak with Carlos now.”

  “Oh,” Gordon says. “The ex-cop who killed himself, right?”

  “Yes, and I want to know why.”

  “Okay, but like I said, I can’t do it until October. I’ve already got the family of a murder victim coming in about twenty minutes.”

  “You can push them back a day.”

  “And everyone else, too?”

  “Obviously. This is more important, and the city pays you enough to give the boys and girls in blue a hookup when they ask for it.”

  “I can see you’re getting agitated. I’ll go ahead and pencil you in for October third. How’s that?”

  Maria grabs the smartphone from his hand and throws it onto the floor. The device bounces several times. Maria doubts it still works.

  “What’s your problem?” Gordon asks. “I need that.”

  “If you weren’t being so difficult, I wouldn’t have had to do it. We’re going to take care of my request right now.”

  Several passing police officers stop to watch the scene. Most are too tired or terrified of Maria to intercede on Gordon’s behalf. Gordon looks into each face with apparent hope. Maria deduces this and ensures that he focuses solely on her.

  “None of them are going to help you. Most are cadets so green they’re still scared of their own shadows. The others just know better than to piss me off.”

  “Will none of you help me?” Gordon asks.

  The police officers suddenly seem to remember they have somewhere else to be. Soon Gordon and Maria are alone again in the corner of the bullpen.

  Maria grabs the collar of Gordon’s shirt and pulls him closer. The elderly man relieves himself in his own pants, a reaction to his own weakness, Maria deduces.

  “Why is a pussy like you even he
re?” Maria asks.

  “Please just let me g-g-go,” Gordon stutters.

  “After you help me with my very simple request. I need to speak with Carlos Towers and find out why that pussy just gave up on us. Just make it happen, and you can go home to change your frilly panties.”

  “Please just let me go,” Gordon repeats.

  Maria releases Gordon with only her right hand. She reaches across her waist and dances her fingers from her baton to her stun gun and back. Gordon’s anxiousness is visible as she taunts him with her unspoken threat.

  “Last chance,” Maria warns, “before I have to become a little more persuasive.”

  “That’s enough,” Benji shouts from behind Maria.

  She stiffens at the unexpected presence of her boss. She releases Gordon’s shirt, and the man promptly retreats to another room. Maria casually turns around and sees a red-faced Benji seething in front of her.

  “Hey, Benji, what’s up?”

  “Pecos, in my office now!”

  Maria is unconcerned with the bass Benji has added to his voice. She casually looks at her watch and shrugs.

  “I’d love to, Benji, but I only have five hours until I’m back on shift. I need to catch forty winks first or I may be a danger on the streets. Like you always say, ‘we can’t lose any more police officers’ now, can we?”

  “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

  “I’m more than cute. I’m a stone cold, hot bitch. I’m sure you go home and jack it to the thought of this body instead of that flab you have at home.”

  Maria massages her breasts and hips.

  “Or should I say had at home?” Maria continues.

  The cruel reminder of Claire’s abduction appears to work.

  “Too soon?” Maria asks as she pushes past Benji.

  She purposefully presses her breasts against him as she passes. Just as Maria suspected, Benji remains quiet and doesn’t try to keep her from leaving the police station to take a nap.

  Chapter 5

  A yellow bulldozer rolls over the debris of a fully demolished Miss Ery’s. Several men and women in construction orange vests and yellow hard hats give the massive machine ample room to demolish the former clubhouse to many of Colberton’s civil servants.

  Benji, Alex, and Donald watch with mixed emotions as the last detail of their friend Carlos is removed from existence. Alex pats Benji on the shoulder.

  “You sure you want to be here, man?” he asks.

  Benji sighs. “Yeah, it keeps my mind off Claire.”

  “I know it’s a bit belated and the circumstance may make this awkward, but congratulations on your engagement,” Donald says.

  Benji gives a sympathetic nod. He knows that his friends mean well. It isn’t an awkward statement.

  “Thanks,” Benji says.

  “Do you get to speak with her at all?” Alex asks.

  Benji shakes his head. “No, I keep hoping, but so far that’s all I do.”

  “She’s fine,” Donald says. “She’s tough as nails, and I watch all the reports she sends back to D2I. It looks like she’s sticking it to Mother every chance she gets.”

  “Amen to that,” Alex adds.

  Benji smiles. “Thanks, guys, I agree. Claire isn’t the type of person who lets you kidnap her and make it easy. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mother drops her back off and apologizes for the trouble before going back to her own damn side of the galaxy.”

  “Good point,” Alex says. “I’m gonna say a prayer for exactly that.”

  “You think God, or Abel, or whomever is even listening?” Donald asks.

  “He’s listening. Don’t give up on me now, Donald. I almost had your baptism scheduled,” Alex says.

  Donald laughs. “I’m sure you did.”

  Benji looks at his watch and sighs. “I gotta get back to the precinct. There aren’t enough of us these days. I practically live there.”

  “I hear that shit,” Alex agrees. “The two of us should head back, too. The hospital is just as short-staffed.”

  “Everyone is,” Donald says. “The end of the world brings out extra selfishness in most people.”

  Benji notices that Alex stifles at Donald’s comment. He easily forgets it. He doesn’t have the time, energy, nor inclination to add more problems to his overwhelming plate.

  “I’ll see you guys later,” Benji says as he turns to leave.

  “Later,” Donald says.

  “Bye,” Alex adds.

  The two paramedics watch in silence as an excavator scoops the scrap wood and other debris from the pile that used to be Carlos’ pride and joy.

  Maria hangs up the microphone in her police cruiser after reporting the motorist she stopped for speeding. The lights on her vehicle silently flash as she watches the driver vent his frustrations for being caught. A smile crosses Maria’s face as she notices the rear license plate is from out of state. She needs an avenue to purge her emotions. The man’s mannerisms suggest he’s going to self-select.

  Maria places her clipboard down with the driver’s pertinent information and exits her vehicle. She slowly works her way toward the sports car in front of her as vehicles pass along the sparsely traveled freeway. Maria arrives at the driver’s side window and is annoyed that the man hasn’t deemed it worth his time to lower it. She taps on the glass, none too gently.

  The man seems to notice her for the first time and reluctantly holds the button to remove the transparent barrier between them.

  “Officer, I can explain—” he begins.

  Maria holds up a hand and instantly silences him. “Do you know how fast you were driving?”

  The man sighs and rolls his eyes.

  Dig yourself a deeper grave, Maria thinks.

  “I may have been going a tad too fast,” he admits.

  “The speed limit is sixty-five and I had you at seventy-one,” Maria states.

  “Like I said, a tad too fast, but are six miles really that big a deal?”

  “So, the rules don’t apply to you?” Maria asks.

  “I didn’t say that,” the man responds.

  Maria blatantly mocks the man.

  “I didn’t realize you were the guy we were told to ignore. Holy shit, this is such an honor. Can I get a selfie with you?”

  “Alright, Officer, you made your point. Just give me my goddamn ticket and leave me alone.”

  “Are you telling me how to do my job?” Maria asks.

  Her voice is steely, and she takes great satisfaction in hearing the man gulp. Apparently, he heard the change.

  “I’m sorry, Officer, I’m just tired. I’m pulling extra shifts because my co-workers want to hide instead of live.”

  “And I’m not? It doesn’t mean I break the rules.”

  “Really? Because I feel a bit threatened right now. What’s your badge number?”

  “If you can’t see it, you aren’t fit to operate a vehicle,” Maria says as she turns her chest closer to his face. “I’m gonna need you to exit the vehicle and put your hands on the hood.”

  The man gulps again. “Why? What have I done?”

  “You’re driving without healthy eyes, you think speeding isn’t a big deal, and you’re kind of an asshole.”

  “You can’t say that to me. I’m gonna have your badge.”

  “Step out of the car, sir,” Maria says with extra edge.

  She watches as the man stares at the keys in his ignition. She can tell he’s doing the math in his head on whether to comply or make a run for it. Maria decides to help him with his decision. She pulls her baton from her belt and slams it onto the driver’s side view mirror. The weak plastic and glass are easily sheared from the vehicle.

  “Jesus Christ, lady! What the hell?”

  The driver does decide to try and run for it, just as Maria h
oped. She pulls her stun gun faster than he can put his vehicle into drive and sends 50,000 volts into his body for five seconds. The man shakes in his chair, but the seatbelt holds him in place. Maria reaches in and releases his restraint. The man slumps. Maria pulls his body from the vehicle. She throws him to the hard, warm pavement as onlookers slow their vehicles to watch. Maria doesn’t care. No complaint can stick anymore. The past few months have taught her that people no longer respect anything but vigilante justice.

  “Please,” the man begs as he curls up into the fetal position. “I won’t say anything, I swear.”

  “Get up, you pussy,” Maria says. “You just bought yourself a trip to a jail cell.”

  “Why? I didn’t do anything. You’re crazy.”

  Maria answers his claims with a strike from her baton to his left kneecap. The man makes a terrified scream as he rolls from side to side. Maria ensures he doesn’t roll too far out into the limited freeway traffic.

  “Are you gonna walk to the back of my car or do I have to carry you?” Maria asks.

  “Shit, lady, please don’t kill me. I swear I won’t speed anymore.”

  “I’m not going to kill you. I’m here to serve and protect. Now get your pansy ass up and shuffle to my car.”

  Maria hears the man groan as she hoists him up. He hops on his uninjured leg and is unapologetically thrown into the back of her police cruiser. The door to his own car remains open with keys in the ignition and the engine running.

  “What about my car?” the man asks as Maria sits in the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t worry about it. Someone will pick it up.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Shut the hell up back there. I know a lot of tunnels, and any one of them can turn into that figurative flight of stairs you could fall down.”

  The threat is effective, and the man ceases his protests. The occasional sniffles of a terrified coward are all Maria hears. She bangs her baton on the acrylic glass separating them.

  “None of that shit either. Stop whimpering like a little bitch.”

  Before the man can respond, Maria feels a vibration coming from her left pocket. She places her hand inside it and retrieves her smartphone. She looks at the screen and sees a smiling picture of Sally with her name beneath it. Maria barely looks at it before hitting the “decline” button and tossing the phone into her passenger seat. She slowly merges with traffic. Her new companion looks longingly at his expensive car that practically has a “steal me” sign on it.