The Scales

by Paul Sating

  Patch stared at her, his lips trembling.

  “Because you can’t kill it.” Serenity answered for him.

  32

  The area in front of the building looked less like a concert and more like a fair, as people broke into increasingly larger and better organized teams to receive their orders from the staff Deputy Rodgers had established. Even if they left now, it would be mid-afternoon by the time they reached the Scales. The sun would keep the sky bright for hours still, but they weren’t conducting covert operations here. What they needed to do couldn’t be done in the middle of the night. They needed light to have a chance to find this shaft.

  Once everything started, would it force the Black Suits to take drastic actions? Killing her family would only be a temporary loss for their organization. There would be others who could replace her if, or once, she was gone. They could use those future people as leverage to help recapture the Screecher, but that would just delay their efforts. Their mission was focused on the Screecher, delays wouldn’t be acceptable. That’s why they had been operating so aggressively. If they grew desperate, would their actions?

  Serenity stood on the wide landing overlooking the mass of humanity below that had been rounded up in a single morning. Their presence humbled her, but their willingness to sacrifice was overwhelming. She wasn’t naïve. Every single person had their own reasons for sweating and waiting in the hot sun, sweating and waiting, waiting and sweating. And most had nothing to do with her loved ones, yet, they were here. They were helping, so many willing to fight, whatever their reasoning.

  Their presence was a testament to something bigger than her family’s story, bigger than this pathetic town. She was finally seeing a population of people who never seemed to care about anything suddenly caring about the same thing. This was tangible evidence of their capability to see past differences and understand they only succeeded, only survived, when they acted together. What she saw below her might be all this would ever be about. After they did what was needed, everything in the Tri-Counties might return to its old ways. At least for now, while standing above people she’d lived around her entire life and those she was seeing for the first—and maybe last—time today, she would enjoy the promise this morning held.

  God, how she missed her mother and, as annoying as he was, even Jerrod. Him and his foolish smile and his irresponsible view of the world. She missed the stupid things he said and the way her mother hovered like they were still in elementary school. How her mother sacrificed for them as much as it pained her to watch that woman give up her entire life, so Serenity and Jerrod had a fair chance at theirs. Jerrod talking dreamingly of selling everything he had and driving to Los Angeles to make music and sit at the beach all night.

  It hadn’t even been a full day yet, but she couldn’t imagine her life without them.

  She smelled him long before Patch saddled up next to her. She didn’t suffer Patch’s odor any longer, more proof life held plenty of secrets and opportunities to change if you just explored it. Even his presence couldn’t unlock the twisted knot her stomach had become.

  “It’s a beautiful thing to see, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed at Patch’s sentiment. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “How do you do it?”

  He was quiet. “Do what?”

  Serenity pointed to the swarm of Tri-Counties citizens below. “How do you forgive them? After everything they’ve done to you. Why are you so good to them?”

  Patch drew a deep breath. “Some days, I’m not sure,” he admitted softly. “I didn’t ask for any of this, but neither did any of these people. The way I see it, life’s hard, Serenity. Very few of us get a free pass. The rest of us pay the toll. We get so wound up about things we’re told to worry about that we’re convinced those things are important. New car because your neighbor got one. Putting your child in that expensive daycare because you be convinced it’ll put her on the fast track to an Ivy League school. Petty family squabbles people are too stubborn to look past, missing out on each other’s lives. I don’t know, to be honest. I think people mean to be good to each other, but we’re broken creatures, poorly equipped to deal with the world the way it is. So, we do are best.”

  He nodded at the hundreds of Tri-County residents preparing for war. “They’re doing the best they can. I guess I’ve tried to remember that every time someone walks by me without sparing a few coins for the old beggar leaning against the wall. What do I know? Maybe they got a sick kid at home. Maybe their mother is in the hospital, racking up bills she’ll never be able to pay off. Maybe the nice clothes they be wearing were bought six months ago when they had a respectable job and they’re heading for an interview they be over-qualified and over-educated for because it’s the only place that’s hiring and they be out of options?”

  “There aren't evil people in the world?”

  Patch gave a brisk shake of his head. “Selfish people, you bet. But being selfish ain’t the same as being evil. People be doing what they do because they believe that thing, at that moment, is the right thing to be doing. Even these Black Suits; I’m sure somewhere in their pea-sized brains, they're convinced they’re doing right.”

  “But…they took your family away!”

  “I’ve thought about that more than I ever hope you have to think about anything,” he said. “Ain’t a day goes by I don’t miss Marie and the kids. But…” A clear glimmer of a tear trailed down his cheek. “I don’t remember what they looked like. I don’t even remember the way Marie used to smell. Damn, I loved it, but couldn’t tell you what it was. The thing that hurts the worst is losing those clear memories. But I can’t hate the Black Suits for that. Hell, the men who took my family are dead now anyway. They’d have to be. Probably been dead a good ten years. Those men bunkered down out there at the Scales doing all this be thinking they’re doing the right thing. Different things appeal to different people, Serenity. That be the true beauty of life.”

  Yelling filled the area below. A large group surrounded a pickup truck. Deputy Rodgers stood inside the bed, addressing everyone. They were too far away, and the buzz of the hundreds of other people was too loud for her to make out what he was saying, but it had the group excited.

  Patch continued after the yelling died down. “To answer you, no, there ain’t nothing evil in the world. Not even the Screecher. It just be trying to find its own way, just like the rest of us. It goes about its business different than we do because its nature demands it. Don’t make it wrong, does it?”

  “I…I guess not,” she admitted.

  “Most people don’t set out to hurt others. It’s real easy to judge, but we ain’t in their heads. We don’t know what’s going on in there, no matter how much we be thinking we do.”

  She wasn’t upset or mad. She considered Patch’s message. She slid her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. When he squeezed back, she knew everything was going to be okay in the end. Things would change, lives would alter, and not everyone would come home when this was over, but the Tri-Counties would be a better, safer place, and she was part of that.

  Patch turned to her and grabbed her other hand, so they were now facing each other, hands interlocked. “Learn as much as you can from this, Serenity. People be much more than the caricatures others be painting of them.”

  “I’m learning, Patch,” she said.

  “See that you do.” He let go of her and faced the crowd, most of whom were splitting up into even smaller groups now. They were preparing to leave, Serenity realized. This was it.

  “California has different types of people,” Patch said, half distracted, like what he was thinking accidentally escaped through his mouth. He smiled. “You’re going to need time to adjust. Never judge a book by its cover. Remember today.”

  She was confused. Seriously, genuinely confused. “California? But George said it had to be me, Patch, that I had to be the one to take Atsidi’s place.”

  P
atch grabbed her shoulder in a dirty, wrinkled grip. “Young one, George doesn’t know everything.”

  “But he said—”

  “Keep your options open and trust me when the time comes.” With that he lumbered down the stairs. Serenity stayed behind, watching the man who’d changed her life. She was richer for knowing him.

  Watching him walk away, she couldn’t genuinely appreciate him because she was too busy mourning what might just have been their last conversation.

  33

  “Hi Porkchop.”

  Her eyes widened at hearing the familiar voice. She turned to face him. The noisy hustle of hundreds of people loading into vehicles became dull, muffled.

  “Pa?” Jerry Johnson moved in for a hug, but Serenity arched backward, arm extended out. “What are you doing here?”

  Jerry laughed. “Is that any way to greet your father? I thought you’d be a little more grateful to see me.”

  “What?!” The exasperated response was the natural one. “What are you doing here?”

  Jerry sneered. Her comment had stung.

  “I’m here to help, Porkchop,” he said, his ersatz happiness flattened. “Word got to Lansdowne this morning. Guess they had a town hall get together real quick, put up a public notice. I didn’t know what was going on, but they mentioned Rotisserie, so I checked it out on the website, and that’s when I saw that a mother and son were missing. They said something about some terrorist cell or something, but I wasn’t listening after they mentioned the street. My gut told me it was Jerrod and your mother. Is it? Is it them? ‘Cuz, if not, I’m outta here; I got a ton of shit to do. Tried to call your mother but, of course, she didn’t answer.”

  Serenity was a heartbeat away from chopping him in the throat. Instead, her eyes fell to her feet, making it easier to hide her disgust. It didn’t matter if he was here or not. They’d manage with or without him. He was a distraction, nothing more, and he could have his win if that’s what he wanted. His ego wasn't her concern.

  “Yeah, they were taken last night. Listen.” She looked him in the eyes despite her disgust. “I need to get going. Um, thank you for coming.”

  As she turned, he grabbed her arm, spinning her around. His smile conveyed no friendliness. “Hey,” he snapped, “Why don’t we ride together? It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

  Deputy Rodgers walked their way, stopping to check with each of the vehicle operators.

  “I—I can’t,” she said.

  Rodgers moved to the next vehicle. Please hurry.

  “Why not?” Jerry asked, moving closer. “We need to talk. Clear the air and figure out how I can help you.”

  Serenity tried to subtly but firmly pull her arm away. His grip didn’t flex. “I'm riding with someone else.”

  The grip tightened.

  Deputy Rodgers was still thirty feet away, too far to intervene and save her from her father or the pending embarrassment any scene might cause. It was up to her. If she didn’t do something now—finally—he'd never change, and she wouldn't get the chance to either. Serenity was no longer his victim.

  “Fucking let go of me!” She yanked away.

  People near them stopped talking and looked at them. Deputy Rodgers' head snapped in her direction. The clinking and buzz of activity suddenly abated.

  She rubbed her arm, her voice full of fire and determination. “I’m done with you. Done letting you tell me what I can and can’t do. You don’t get to do that anymore. You lost that right when you walked out!”

  Jerry took a step closer, looking around to assess the interested crowd.

  “Serenity.” His lips spread, showing the whites of his teeth in a humorless grin. “Come here. Stop being emotional.”

  The fire burned. Devouring.

  “I’m not, you asshole,” she snarled. “And I’m not riding with you. There’s nothing for us to talk about. Anything you need to say can be said right here.”

  Deputy Rodgers strode toward them now.

  “Serenity, come on.” There it was again. Her name. For years she’d asked, pleaded, for him to call her by her actual name and not that childish nickname, and for years he’d ignored her requests. Now, he was using it as if it took a public display of defiance for him to understand she wasn’t a source of juvenile entertainment.

  “No!” She wouldn’t budge. That time had passed. “You abandoned us. You got what you wanted.” The bitter laugh rose out of her before she recognized it coming. It felt good to laugh in his face. “You’ve always gotten what you wanted. But you’re not going to anymore. Not from me. So why don’t you go climb into your car and head back to Lansdowne, or wherever you’re sleeping these days, since your own kids don’t even know where or how to find you. Whatever you’ve got going on there needs you more than I do.”

  Jerry’s eyes flickered. There was pain there, hidden underneath his manufactured toughness, buried deep. Before her eyes, Jerry was mentally reeling, rocking on his feet, readied for the knockout blow. But if she threw it, she would be no better than him. She couldn't be proud to kick someone when they were down.

  The deputy hung close as Serenity spoke, her voice calm while her insides churned. “I’m leaving now. Thank you for coming to help. Mom and Jerrod will appreciate it. I appreciate it. But this.” She pivoted her finger back and forth between them. “This is done. You don’t own me, and you sure as hell don’t control me. If the day ever comes when you can acknowledge me as the person, the grown woman, I am, when you apologize to all of us for the years of selfish behavior…then maybe we can move forward. Until then, don’t bother me again.” Without waiting for his reply, she looked at the deputy. “Are you ready?”

  Deputy Rodgers stiffened as he realized she was talking to him. “Y—yes.”

  She led the way. Away from her father.

  Into her destiny.

  ***

  “Are you okay,” Deputy Rodgers asked. They were the lead vehicle in the long convoy out of Rotisserie and into the desert, toward the Scales. Serenity had insisted, and the deputy didn’t argue.

  She stared into the distance, beyond the passing scenery, beyond anything physical, lost in her own, new world. Never, in her wildest dreams, did she believe missing that town was possible. For years, she’d ached to make Rotisserie nothing more than a distant memory. Yet, she was already mourning it.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered, not looking away from the window.

  “Your father, that was intense,” Patch said from the back seat. “Sorry you had to go through that.”

  She smiled behind the hand covering her mouth. “Thank you, Patch. But it’s okay. I’ve wanted to tell him off for a long, long time.”

  “You don’t be saying,” Patch said. “Oh, he got the message.” Then he fell quiet for a moment. “I’m just worried about you, Serenity. You need a clear head for this. The Counties are relying on you. That man, what he's done, you can't be thinking about.”

  “I know,” she said, more confidently than she felt. The second time, it came out as a whisper. “I know.” She glanced in the side mirror. A trail of vehicles stretched out behind them, blurring into the backdrop of Rotisserie, as it gave way to the brown desert. There had to be a hundred, led and trailed by sheriff deputies flashing blue and red lights. The few people unable or unwilling to save the town had gathered at sidewalks to watch the cortege. Children thrust their hands in the air, waving them back and forth so they weren't overlooked, as if this were the best parade the Tri-Counties ever hosted. There was hope in this, a sense of community, at so many coming together and working toward the same goal.

  Pressing her head against the window warmed by the desert sun Serenity closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift to dreams of California. She was scared and didn’t want either man to see it in her face. Closing her eyes hid her fear from the world and helped her picture Jerrod and her mother. She needed that connection right now. Together.

  Her head toward the desert so neither Patch nor Deputy Rodgers could se
e, Serenity cried.

  Hopefully, she could at least say goodbye to her family.

  34

  “We’re here, Serenity,” a muffled voice said.

  She blinked. Someone was shaking her shoulder.

  Dreaming. I’m dreaming. None of this was real. A wave of relief washed over her.

  “Serenity?” The voice, firmer, prodded, followed by another shake, this one more forceful. Relief withdrew like the tide sucked back into the ocean of despair. She bolted upright, getting her bearings.

  “Good morning,” Deputy Rodgers said from the driver’s seat. “I thought you were going to sleep through the fun.”

  She rubbed her eyes, blinking away the exhaustion. In the near foreground lay the Scales. Patch had warned them against driving up to the bent and twisted structures in case the Screecher did show up. He argued having a hundred vehicles clumped together would give it weapons to use against them. Plus, Deputy Rodgers had conceded, an egress was a priority. Having space and time to fan out, and retreat if necessary, was a top concern. They could fight another day if they lived to see it.

  So very real. Her mother and Jerrod were somewhere underneath those twisted heaps of metal, suffering. She barely kept seated. Her leg bounced as she hydrated and collected her things.

  “Let’s go.”

  She hopped out of the car, followed by Deputy Rodgers and Patch. Behind them, vehicles were still parking and people unloading. Hundreds of people spilled out of their vehicles, not a one of them military. The Tri-Counties didn’t have a military presence. A throng of untrained civilians was about to conduct this rescue operation. They would have to overwhelm with sheer numbers, even if that put every last one of them at risk. Watching everyone grab gear and weapons, working toward a single cause, gave her enough reason to believe they had a chance. She had to believe.