Nathan's Clan of Deadheads

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Nathan's Clan of Deadheads Page 12

by Paul Atreides


  Nathan sure didn’t want to deal with illness again. First order of business: check the medicine cabinet for any medical issues; nothing but aspirin, nasal spray, toothpaste and brush, hair brush and spray, razor and shaving cream. He nosed through the dresser and nightstand, and found a stash of girlie magazines. He took the wallet from the rear pocket. “Erick. Staff Sergeant Erick Larssen. Allrighty, then. It appears we have a winner.”

  Erick came back from the shower, his hair in towel-dried disarray, returned the small bag to the locker, and spread his towel on the bunk. Then he reached over and pulled a magazine from a stash in the drawer under the locker, and stretched out on the bed.

  Nathan let out a laugh. “Well, I think this is a performance I can skip. You have yourself a good time, Sarge. I’ll be back.” Nathan scanned the room. “And then, we’re going to up your quality of life some.”

  Chapter 25

  Jenna followed Diane to the small city of Ravenna a bit northeast of Akron, a place where homes sit on half-acres and wooded areas abound. The two stood on an otherwise deserted street corner of what might be considered the center of town, the buildings a strange mixture of old houses and large brick buildings. Flakes of snow drifted through the haloed glow of streetlights. “Who are we looking for?”

  A perplexed expression ran across Diane’s face. “I can’t catch her name.”

  “Tell me again what she’s done. Take me through it.”

  “Well, I can’t say I blame her, but—”

  “Wait a minute. You rushed down to bring me here and you don’t blame her? Was it an accident?”

  Diane, the only one of Jenna’s council members able to get away with it, changed her stance to meet the challenge. “If you’ll let me finish, your highness. You know, Marvin might be right. You’re getting mighty big for your britches. I’m here to help. We’re all here to help. You might keep that in mind.”

  Dropping her chin, Jenna released a weary sigh. “Sorry. Really. That man makes me want to crush things so I don’t—Never mind, I married him, I’ll have to deal with it. Tell me. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  “This woman is fast. I mean, real fast. I’ve never witnessed anyone on this side disappear like she does. She intervened in a tussle between a man trying to force a screaming little girl into a van. While the girl hollered, ‘Help. He’s not my daddy!’ this woman melded into the guy like her body was made of jelly. I watched her run him down the block, around a corner, and beat his head into the side of a brick building. When he slumped to the ground, his forehead in a bloody, mangled mess, out she popped, and off she went. I called out to her, but…” Diane shrugged. “Either she didn’t hear me, or she’s able to ignore our commands.”

  “I’m confused. What was this panicked ‘before she kills again’?”

  “The guy died there in the street.” Diane pointed past Jenna’s shoulder. “She didn’t even bother to check on him. Not that a scum like him deserved help. Put him in jail and he wouldn’t last a week unless they separated him from the main population.”

  “What about the girl? Did you go back to check on her?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. She was gone.”

  Jenna turned away from her second-in-command. A deadhead able to withstand a direct command had never crossed her mind. She’d witnessed Jason and Nancy order even the worst offenders to stop. Well, except for the young man Jenna had killed, and he actually charged Nancy instead of trying to flee. But this. This was a problem far worse than the issue Nathan brought to her door, far worse than Nathan himself. She knew what he did. It deserved further investigation, and certainly a warning. But she doubted them to be actionable offenses to the same standard or degree to which Jason might hold them, if he discovered them. In fact, it surprised her that Jason didn’t act when he had Nathan in Eastwood Park.

  Diane’s voice broke through and interrupted her train of thought. “… or the girl must have gone home. What do you want to do? Should we call in some help from other cities and hunt for this woman?”

  Jenna shook her head to clear Nathan out of her mind for the time being. “Let’s scout around. There’s bound to be a scumbag around for her to go after.” Jenna sighed. Abusers would always be around.

  Agreeing, Diane offered, “I’ll take the east part of the county, you take the west. Does that work?”

  “I guess. Meet back here by six tomorrow night.”

  Jenna considered Diane’s words for a moment as the woman headed off. Did Marvin really believe that? Had she begun to think too highly of herself, to think of her job as more important? What she did was important, but was it more important than Marvin?

  After twenty-four hours, only traces of the brief snowfall remained in tufts of grass beyond the parking lot of the Beverage Drive-Thru across from them, the streets again void of the living or dead. Neither she nor Diane found a trace of the woman who’d saved a little girl but killed a man in the process. Jenna peered up through sporadic, swift-moving clouds at the stars, and shook her head. “I have to get back to Dayton, then I need to find new recruits for Cincinnati—stable ones this time.”

  “Ouch. But, as Marvin would say, so sue me. How was I supposed to know they’d start making up their own rules?” Diane held up a hand to halt any response. “I know, I should have made the rules clearer. What do I do if I find this woman?”

  “Bring her to me. Maybe we can turn her around, use her to our advantage. But we’ve got to find her before Jason does. If we don’t, she won’t get the same considerations I did when Nancy intervened on my behalf.”

  Chapter 26

  Nathan returned around midnight to light, regular breathing. The magazine Erick had used to entertain himself lay open on the small rug next to the bed. “Okay, buddy, let’s get you up and moving.”

  He laid himself on top of Erick and eased into the midst of a dream that took a sudden switch from lying on a tropical beach to being in a car stuck in a snow bank on a deserted road. A shoulder pushed against the door to no avail, and his eyes fluttered open.

  Nathan rose, and switched on the overhead light. A quick inspection determined the need for a shower. The hair resembled a pile of hay in the barn. He grabbed the towel from the bed, slung it around his neck, and went out into the dimness of the central hall.

  “Larssen,” the quiet voice echoed along the tiled hallway from behind. “You feel okay?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Holy crap. Man, I’ve never seen you walk the halls like that before. Aren’t you afraid someone might see your dick flopping around?” Laughter accompanied the remark. “Or are you finally loosening up?”

  “It’s late. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake.” Nathan picked up his pace down the hall to the middle of the building where he found the latrine earlier in the evening.

  “Really? At shift change? Or, maybe you’re a closet exhibitionist.” Another chuckle and a door closed.

  Nathan made quick work of rinsing down. He soaked the hair he decided needed to grow out some, and went back to the room. In the locker, he found a pair of jeans that fit a might snug, which definitely called for a short-term gym membership. Rifling through a row of shirts, all he found were knits that clung to the body and accentuated the pudginess at the waistline, and added a shopping trip to the top of his agenda. He pinched at the love handles. “Erick, Erick, Erick. Ya’ll should’ve been taking much better care of yourself. Now, how in the world can we justify the kind of meal we’ve been wanting when we’re faced with this?”

  He combed the hair and gave it a little spritz of spray. He transferred his cell phone to an inner pocket of the leather flight jacket he slipped on, and went down the corridor and out the side door. He was already at the sergeant’s old Malibu when he stuck hands into empty pockets and looked for keys. Damn. He discovered the barracks side door needed a key. Then he found the front doors locked as well. Thankfully, a sign told him to ring the bell after hours.

  A face popped into the window and
studied him. “Larssen?”

  Nathan nodded.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Sorry, forgot my keys.”

  “You look like shit. What the hell are you doing up so late, anyway?”

  Nathan struggled a bit for an answer. As he pushed past the guy on guard duty, he let loose with a terse, “Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go for a drive, that okay with you?”

  “No, really, Erick. You look weird. Are you okay, man?”

  Nathan kept walking. “I’m fine.”

  He heard the door get shoved closed as the man responded, “Whatever.”

  It surely was not Nathan’s nature to be curt, but people who knew Erick might spot slight but specific differences if he lingered. He thought it best to keep moving.

  A sigh of relief escaped from him at finding the room unlocked. It would’ve been a bit risky this early in the game leaving Erick in the hallway in order to retrieve the car keys. Once ensconced in the driver’s seat, Nathan pulled out his phone.

  “Okay, Google.” He waited for the tone he’d heard when others used the app he still hadn’t tried. “Five star hotels in Dayton, Ohio.”

  The results were underwhelming, certainly nothing he aspired to. Maybe it was a sign he should follow the instinct of the other night with the captain and head off to Cleveland. He again pulled in next to his truck at the park, and locked the sedan, leaving the keys on the floor. He didn’t want anyone seeing them and stealing the good sergeant’s car.

  “All right,” he said, after a check of the time, and patting the dashboard of the pick-up. “Let’s see if we can get to Cleveland in time for breakfast.”

  He gassed up the truck before getting on the freeway, and made only one stop at the Mile Marker 128 rest area on I-71, north of Columbus. Unlike the previous self, this one had no difficulty in draining the radiator, thank the lord. He took a short walk around the building to stretch his legs, and headed out.

  Following the signs for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, he exited the freeway, and pulled into a convenience store parking lot. Another search of the internet came up with a list of hotels. After studying them, The Ritz-Carlton looked to be nearby and came closest to fitting the level of luxury and amenities he wanted. An indoor pool would be nice but maybe a local gym, which this new self truly needed, would fulfill the wish.

  According to the website, all kinds of entertainment could be had within walking distance: Plenty of bars and restaurants, the Cleveland Playhouse, art museums and galleries. Gosh, he could even take in a Cavaliers game if he was so inclined.

  Though the hotel offered valet, the old F-150 would give the wrong impression. He used the Tower City parking garage around the corner and hoofed through the shopping center to the hotel.

  “I’d like a suite, please. Not the studio type, an actual suite.”

  The clerk woke the computer. “And how long would you be staying with us, sir?”

  “Indefinite.”

  “On business or pleasure?” he asked as he clicked through screens.

  “Pleasure, actually,” Nathan responded when the clerk finally looked up.

  “I have a city view or a lake view.”

  “Hm. Lake, I think. Is that what ya’ll might recommend?”

  “It’s quieter, if that makes a difference. Name?”

  “Nathaniel Ray Crockett.”

  A smile crossed the clerk’s face a second before the keystrokes began. “Any relation to Davy?” never failed to be asked at least once each winter, and Nathan braced for it. Instead the man continued the gathering of information. “Address? You know, it’d be faster with your driver’s license. I’ll need it anyway.”

  Nathan tried to put on an innocent expression as he reached for his wallet. He hadn’t spent any time at all in testing out Erick’s ability to fib. “Now, I surely do apologize, but I lost that somewheres along the way up here. Here’s my credit—”

  A stricken expression landed on the young man’s face, and his fingers hovered over the keyboard even as he looked down at the credit card he recognized as having no limit. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I can’t finish a registration without one.”

  Why did he go and leave all of Larsson’s identification behind? He might’ve used it. But, that may have caused a stable full of trouble, too, when the Air Force began the hunt for their AWOL soldier. “I surely wish ya’ll could make an exception this one time. I’ll have a new one in a jiffy, I can promise you that. In fact I could have it mailed right here.”

  “It’s strictly against policy, Mr. Crockett.”

  Nathan peered around the lobby. “Is there a manager I could talk to?”

  “Certainly. One moment.” Dale Corbel, according to his name tag, picked up a house phone. “Yes, there’s a Mr. Crockett here wanting to check in without proper I.D. He’d like to speak with a manager.” He replaced the receiver in its cradle. “She’ll be right with us.”

  “I thank you kindly.” Nathan turned his back to the desk and leaned against it.

  A moment later he heard low mumbling behind him and turned to face them with the friendliest smile he could conjure. A woman in her mid-fifties stood peering around a corner, his Black American Express credit card in hand. Distaste flickered across her face. She shook her head in denial, handed the card to her employee, and left.

  Dale returned to his station. “I do apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Crockett. But, she’s declined to accommodate the request.”

  “With so much fraud going on in these times, I surely understand her reluctance. I thank you for trying, Mr. Corbel, it was right kind of you.”

  “Perhaps you can return when you have your license?”

  “Oh, you can count on it.” Nathan left through the doors to the mall in hopes of finding somewhere to bunk down until he could remedy the license situation.

  Chapter 27

  “Don’t that beat all,” Nathan said as he walked the shopping center in search of a beige wall to use as a background. He now rued abandoning the clothes he purchased before the regrettable date with Vicky and skipping out of Cincinnati in such a hurried manner. Not that they would’ve fit properly, but having that jacket on may have provided a bit of a leg up into the saddle with the Ritz-Carlton manager. It reminded him how folks in the South were much less suspicious, more inclined to help than hinder. Heck, even Big Bill, the deputy he’d led to the kid’s body, hadn’t asked to see identification, and that situation could’ve been murder for all Bill knew.

  Nathan stopped near the food court that bustled with workers and the smells of breakfast foods tantalized him, though no vendors had opened for business yet. He took a self-portrait with his cell phone, one he hoped to be a good facsimile of what the motor vehicle department would get. Wandering past each with a slow gait, he read through the menus the fast food joints offered and then sat at a table to wait.

  “Well, I might as well get the still to percolating.” He launched the email application and composed a message.

  “Zachariah:

  Lost my license, need a new one. Photo attached. Stats: Blond hair, green eyes. Now, I’m guessing on the rest of this. I should’ve snatched the info from him before I left but, then again, I should’ve done a lot of things of late that I didn’t. Height, let’s say, 5’11. Weight, 155. That last will be accurate soon enough. Leave the birth date the same. It’ll be close enough. I’ll tell you where to send it as soon as I can. Thanks, buddy. I surely do appreciate it. Nate

  Oh, BTW, I hope everything’s okay down there. Tell Sarah and everyone else I said “hey.”—N”

  He pushed Send, waited for confirmation, and then searched for a cheap hotel. One where he paid with cash, and they wouldn’t give a hoot in his holler about identification.

  A gate rose on Dunkin’ Donuts, and brighter lights came on. He took a large coffee and an egg sandwich back to his table. It needed salt but otherwise it served to fill the hole, and he went back to his search. Before he found anything, the phone dinged and poppe
d its Battery Low warning. “Well, this day ain’t starting out none too good, is it?”

  He turned off the phone and approached the counter again. The same acne-inflicted kid who took his order stood poised to grab another sandwich. “Do ya’ll know of a cheap motel around here where I might get a room?”

  “There’s one over on Euclid Avenue.” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder.

  “Is it far?”

  The kid scratched at a scraggly sideburn. “Nah. You could probably walk it in less than fifteen minutes.”

  With directions scribbled on a napkin, Nathan stopped by the truck to retrieve the charger for his phone and headed out the northeast exit of the garage. In an effort to begin the weight loss on this new self, he jogged and made it, winded, in five. Walking into the lobby, he had doubts he’d get any further here in securing a roof over his head. Still, he had to try.

  “A week. I’m happy to pay in advance,” Nathan said, sliding the credit card across the desk.

  “Yes, sir. No problem. I just need your driver’s license.”

  Nathan repeated his plea, and offered a cash incentive. He had a key within minutes and walked across the small lobby to head up to the room on the second floor. He stopped and turned to the registration desk. “What’s the zip code here?”

  “Four, four, one, one, four,” came the reply from a still smiling face looking down at the crisp one-hundred dollar bill.

  In the standard hotel room, with everything glued or bolted down to surfaces—probably to prevent stealing of items, though Nathan couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to steal such things—he settled into the chair next to the window. He plugged in the phone to begin the charge, turned it on, and launched the email. He took a slow gander at his surroundings.

  —Zach: Send license FedEx, SAME DAY EXPRESS. 669 Euclid Ave, Cleveland, OH 44114 ~N—

  He went to leave the phone on the table and slapped his forehead. He launched the app for a second message, well, third actually, he reminded himself. “Shit, Nathaniel, pull your head out from that mule’s ass.”

 

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