“When we’re already up three games in the series? Not likely,” Twileager’s partner says.
“Well, Kopp, to answer the intent of the question, you won’t have to come in unless things do go bad.”
“So, what I heard was, keep it to a two-beer maximum because we’re coming in after the Demons beat the Timber Puppies’ ass!”
The assembled police officers cheer in unison.
“And I thought I was being too subtle,” Benji says. “So now that everyone knows the score, how about getting the hell out there and justify your pay?”
Benji checks his uniform for any errant coffee drops as his police officers pass him on the way to their cars.
Vick walks down a busy sidewalk wearing jeans and a brown hoodie. The hood is over his head. He hopes the sunglasses and baseball cap will keep the curious from taking too close a look at him. He’s already seen several wanted posters and news reports detailing his fugitive status since escaping prison.
He keeps his eyes on the sidewalk as he makes his way back to the rundown motel he’s used as his temporary hiding spot and training facility. He feels that he’s mastered his augmentation, but realizes that it’ll not be too beneficial in a fight.
Vick chances a glance up and sees a woman standing directly in his path. He begins to move over to pass her and notices that she casually corrects her position to stay in front of him.
Shit, Vick thinks.
He looks over his shoulder and sees a little person who also seems a bit too interested in him. The short man doesn’t hide the fact that he realizes he’s been made and moves to block the exit to Vick’s right. Vick veers left and sees a pair of men strolling toward him. Vick stops in his place and feels a hand on his shoulder as a voice whispers into his ear.
“Can’t go back either,” the man whispers. “Make this easy on yourself, Mr. Cruhees. Just come with us.”
Vick recognizes that the voice belongs to a man constantly on television. His chosen subject is always about augments, especially fugitive augments.
Vick quickly spins and throws a punch at Ibbles. He catches the bureaucrat unaware and bloodies his nose. Ibbles falls to the ground. Vick steps over him as he runs back the way he originally came from. He throws casual observers to the side as he sprints as fast as he can. A large shadow passes over him and Vick hears terrified screams. Soon after, a large monster with grotesque wings lands in front of him and towers. The monster’s mandibles clack together. It spreads three sets of arms, the top ones with giant crab pincers.
Vick falls to the ground and tries to go back, but sees an irate Ibbles and the rest of his people charging him. Vick dives inside the candy store next to him. Several civilians hide inside the store among the boxes of gummy candies and chocolates.
“Get out!” a worker screams.
Vick frantically searches the room for an escape point and notices the vent on the ground. He runs toward it and feels a burning sensation. The candy nearest him bubbles and pops as the contents, and containers themselves, melt. Vick looks down at his arms and sees they’re also bubbling. He falls to the ground and curls up in the fetal position as he screams.
“That’s enough, Hot Box,” Ibbles says. “I believe we’ve made our point.”
Vick gasps on the ground as he sees Ibbles stand over him.
“I’m not going back!” Vick shouts. “It was just an accident. The fog of war!”
“Do we look like we’re from the marshal service?” Ibbles asks. “I represent a different federal organization.”
Vick, slightly recovered, stands as the hiding civilians and workers seem to realize they should make an escape out the front entrance.
“What do you want from me then?” Vick asks.
“How does amnesty sound to you, Mr. Cruhees?”
“Sounds pretty damn good,” Vick admits.
“As you can see, I like the possibilities that augments like you can provide. Would you care for a job?”
“I won’t be a fugitive anymore?”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ibbles smugly states. “Please follow me, Amorph.”
“Oh hell no, that won’t be my name in the field,” Vick complains.
“Sorry, but Amorphous is too many syllables, and linking it to your power is the only way I can keep you all straight,” Ibbles explains. “Beast Mode, make sure the clean-up team pays off the appropriate people. And tell Master Sergeant Douglas that I need to speak with him as soon as we get back. I don’t care about his stupid game.”
Beast Mode nods from outside the store in his monster form.
Miss Ery’s is packed to capacity and decorated with the red and orange hellfire colors of the Yama Demons. The basketball pre-game show for game four is on all the televisions, and the regulars are excitedly waiting for the first toss-up.
Waitresses dressed like the Demon cheerleaders carry trays around to all the booths and tables with pitchers of beer and salty snacks. Donald excitedly receives the two pitchers for his table and sets them between Alex, Kim, Maria, Sally, Smith, and himself.
“Drink up, boys and girls. We need to be good and sauced to cheer our Demons to a series-sweeping win,” Donald announces.
“Woo!” Kim and Sally scream.
“Take it down an octave until the game starts, please?” Donald asks.
Kim, already a bit tipsy, laughs as she apparently remembers something.
“Donald, did Alex tell you what he did this morning?” Kim asks.
“No, what?” Donald asks with obvious interest.
“Please don’t,” Alex begs.
“No, I must know,” Donald insists.
“Same here,” Maria states.
“Me, too,” Sally says at nearly the same time as Maria.
“Absolutely,” Smith adds.
“Sorry, babe,” Kim says with a devilish grin. “I have to give the people what they want.”
“Wait a second then,” Alex says. He downs his first glass of beer in a single gulp. He then pours a second. “Okay, go.”
“So, I’m in the bedroom this morning while Alex is getting ready to shave. I hear this scream of absolute panic,” Kim begins.
“It wasn’t a scream of panic,” Alex protests.
“Little girl, skinned knee, panic,” Kim insists. “So, I run into the bathroom to see what the problem is.”
“It wasn’t that much of a problem. You’re exaggerating,” Alex says.
“Let the woman talk, Alex!” Sally screams.
Kim continues. “So, I get into the bathroom and see my beautiful husband of fifteen years standing there frantically looking over his penis.”
“Outbreak of herpes again?” Donald asks.
“Hey!” Kim shouts. “We do not have herpes.”
“So, what did Alex do?” Maria asks.
“Apparently,” Kim starts again with a giggle, “he dropped his razor while changing out blades and it hit his dick.”
“Ooooooh,” everyone at the table says at once. The men instinctively cover their own groins at the thought.
“Shit, when you only start with two inches, you can’t be taking risks like that, buddy,” Donald chides.
“Very funny,” Alex sarcastically says. “I just nicked it.”
“So, did mommy give it a kiss and make it all better?” Maria jokes.
“He wouldn’t let me,” Kim says. “I offered, but he was too embarrassed.”
The table shares another round of laughter at Alex’s expense.
“Thank you, Kim. That story has made the rest of my year. I’ll cherish it forever and can’t wait to use the intercom on Monday,” Donald professes.
“Oh really?” Alex asks with a raised eyebrow. “You want to go there?”
“I have to,” Donald says.
“Fair enough, then I have to do
this. Who here likes chili?” Alex asks.
“Bitch, don’t you dare,” Donald blurts.
“Like you said, I have to.”
“Please do,” Sally begs. “I need dirt on this one.”
“What did I do to you?” Donald asks.
“You see,” Alex begins, “Donald here was making homemade chili. He declared that chili should be spicy and made by hand. He then went about cutting about five different kinds of peppers and scooping them by hand to put into the pot.”
Alex’s audience listens with great intent, except for Donald, who groans as he waits for Alex to finish. He also puts away beer at an incredible rate.
“So, dumbass over here finally finishes, then does the brilliant thing of scratching his balls.”
“No,” Smith blurts. He turns to look at Donald. “Why, man, why?”
“My nuts itched. Why else?” Donald answers.
“Anyway, the next thing I know, Donald is trying to find any remedy to pepper burn. I suggested he get some milk. So, this guy raids the fridge, then fills a bowl with milk. I then see him dunking his balls into the bowl of milk right in the middle of the break room at the hospital.”
All present roar with laughter. Donald buries his head as Smith good naturedly slaps him on the back.
“I hate you,” Donald tells Alex.
The laughter continues, and every time it looks like it’ll subside, someone looks at Donald and cracks up again.
“Can we change the subject please?” Donald begs.
“Sure,” Smith answers. “What’s this I heard about you guys responding to an augment?”
“Craziest shit,” Alex answers. “The guy is paralyzed on the floor. We try to get him on the board and find out his legs are metal.”
“Not just metal,” Donald interrupts. “They’re robot legs.”
“Yeah, robot legs,” Alex continues. “So, we ask if he can change back, except the guy doesn’t believe he’s an augment.”
“When he finally does, he turns his whole body into a robot and stands right up,” Donald finishes.
“Shit!” Sally says. “Were you scared?”
“A little. The guy used to have a reputation in this town. I wasn’t sure what Power would do to us,” Alex answers.
“Wait, Power?” Sally asks. “You mean Dominic Wiener?”
“That might be his name. I only ever heard him called Power. I didn’t even realize it was him until we were trying to find a reason to get to the door,” Donald says.
“His arms turning into miniguns was that reason,” Alex says to Kim’s obvious shock.
Smith rubs his chin. Sally stares blankly with a gaping mouth.
“I’ve heard of Power, too,” Maria declares.
Smith gives her a “that was stupid” look and rolls his eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” Sally muses.
She looks at the bar and her brother.
“You may want to go see Mitch,” Sally says to Smith. “He’s ready to forgive you, but you have to initiate the conversation.”
Smith drains his beer. “Good idea. I’ll catch you guys later. Time to go see my boo.”
Smith stands from his chair and makes his way to the bar. He passes a table filled with off-duty Templars sitting close to the bar.
Akio raises his glass to his peers.
“A toast,” Akio says. “To an amazing team.”
Jake, Kimmy, Jayden, and Amine all clink their glasses.
“Should you be calling us a team in here?” Amine asks.
“Don’t be paranoid. People aren’t looking to out us,” Jayden says.
Jake scans the bar at random.
“Looking for someone?” Kimmy asks.
“I’m just wondering,” Jake admits.
“About what?” Jayden says slowly.
“Karen and Bill demanded that we come here tonight,” Jake says.
“And?” Jayden asks.
“And I wonder if Votary is here, too,” Jake finishes.
Smith frowns. Jake said that a bit too loudly. If he could hear it, who else could? Fortunately, it looks like nobody was paying attention.
“Who cares if he is?” Kimmy mentions.
“I do. I can’t trust the guy if he doesn’t trust me,” Jake says.
Akio and Jayden laugh with each other.
“Something funny about that?” Jake asks.
“Not at all,” Akio answers. “We all go through this phase with regard to Votary. Everyone claims to be offended, then he says he doesn’t care, and we just learn to deal with it. It’s a phase; it’ll pass. Then you’ll realize that Votary is the man.”
“The man?” Jake asks.
“Well, the man we make fun of at least,” Jayden answers.
“It could be worse,” Amine says. “We could be stuck at The Lair training.”
“How is that worse?” Kimmy asks. “They have DJ and Gabriella. I bet they’re all getting ready to watch the game and eating calorie-free cake instead of paying for the fatty pills.”
“Speaking of fatty pills, hey bartender! We need more pretzels!” Jake shouts to Mitch.
Mitch waves back that he heard and sends a waitress over with pretzels.
“Your friends are quite vocal, Bill,” Mitch says to Smith as he finally reaches the bar.
“You want me to get them to come over and ask nicely?” Smith asks.
“That won’t be necessary. I’d prefer to hear you grovel first.”
“I ain’t too proud to beg. You want me on my knees? You want me to scream?” Smith jokes.
“Stop being cute. I want to be mad at you for a little more.”
“How little. I need a good luck kiss from my boo to make sure the Demons win.”
“I don’t know. You haven’t gotten one so far in the series, and the Demons are three and oh. Maybe we’re bad luck for them. They lost in the playoffs last year, and we were physically in the stands.”
“On second thought, don’t be superstitious,” Smith advises.
“I’m working right now, but if you’re good and check in every hour, maybe I’ll let you take me home tonight and out for breakfast tomorrow,” Mitch teases with a wink.
“Every hour on the hour or should I mingle and make it more cool?”
“Sweetie, go ahead and mingle. Just make sure I get a constant view of that perfect ass.”
“Watch it as I leave,” Smith says and sashays over to Benji’s table.
“Bill!” Benji yells. “Pull up a chair.”
Smith sits at a large table with Benji, Claire, Toby, Karen, Carlos, and Abel.
“What’s up?” Smith asks.
“Settle an argument for me,” Benji says.
Benji points across the table at Abel.
“Apparently this kid is old enough to drink and is interested in becoming a cop, but I’ve never heard Karen mention him before even though he’s apparently such a good friend. Claire claims that she’s heard the name, but that’s it. Nobody else seems to remember Karen saying anything about him.”
Smith’s eyes dart from Karen to Abel and end on Claire. He can tell the wheels are turning inside her head. He makes a mental note to talk to Karen about bringing Abel when Claire was around later.
“I don’t know why you would remember hearing about me,” Abel says with a youthful innocence.
“Ta ta ta ta ta ta.” Benji waves Abel off. “Do you remember him, Bill?”
Karen looks ashamed at the potential problem she’s caused, but Abel is as carefree as ever and appears to be genuinely interested in Smith’s response.
“I think I remember something about him, like a childhood friend’s kid or something,” Smith answers.
“Exactly,” Karen says. “Thank you, Bill.”
Claire looks at bot
h Karen and Smith and nods slowly. Her eyes suggest she’s carefully calculating what to do with the information that she has.
“Now that I think about it,” Claire starts, “I think I remember Karen saying something about Abel to Reid, too.”
“Really?” Benji asks with surprise. “Well, don’t I look stupid. I guess I don’t pay enough attention to my own officers.”
“I guess not,” Karen agrees.
“I’ll fix that on Monday,” Benji promises.
Toby slowly and painfully finishes off the last of his drink.
“Are you doing alright over there, Toby?” Benji asks.
Toby looks up from his empty brown bottle and nods. “I’m ready for another one.”
“You sure, Simon? You don’t have to,” Claire says.
“I’m okay,” Toby assures. “Give me another one.”
“Okay,” Benji says with a sigh, “give him another one, Carlos.”
Carlos, seated to Toby’s left, reaches his right hand out, pats Toby on the back, and massages his head.
“Glad you came out to party with us, buddy,” Carlos says as he massages Toby’s bald scalp.
Judging by his expression, Toby is beyond uncomfortable, but he swallows and steadies his racing heart. After a few moments, Carlos removes his hands, then studies Toby’s expression.
Toby lets out a massive sigh. “Thanks. Now can I have another root beer?”
The table cheers.
“That’s my boy!” Benji says. “I could go for another, too. A real beer, that is.”
“You’re not saving any for the game?” Karen asks. “You were the one talking about work tonight.”
“Shit,” Benji remembers. “I guess I’ll try one of those Augmented Colas.”
“Sure,” Carlos says and gets a waitress to come over to get a drink order.
“I’m so proud of you, Simon,” Claire says.
“Thanks, Claire. I’m proud of myself, too,” Toby responds.
Alex and Donald walk over to the table.
“Is this where all the cool kids are hanging out?” Donald asks.
“Well, not anymore,” Abel jokes.
Everyone laughs at Donald and Alex because the “youngest” guy there called out the obvious joke on strangers.
Sleepers and Scouts Page 16