If Appendix drew on me, I wouldn’t go for my Glock. I would go for Appendix, disarming him and fracturing both his arms in multiple locations, leaving them to dangle by his sides like a couple of windchimes. When the other two joined in, it’d be a toss-up, but I’d most likely shoot them with Appendix’s 1911—if the damn thing was even loaded.
I shrugged, indicating my indifference, and sent a searing look Appendix’s way. “You sure you want to take that route with me?”
“I might,” he said. “Think you’re faster than a speeding bullet?”
In less than two seconds, he was going to find out.
“Holy shit!” the man to my right exclaimed, jerking his head around. “Would you look at the set of tits on that!”
The other two followed their partner’s gaze through the storefront windows to the Denali, where Natalia was now standing. Either my initial five minutes had elapsed, or she had grown tired of waiting. She was perched with one hand on her hip and the other at her side balling into a fist, her expression obscured only by the designer sunglasses she was wearing.
While the three yokels unleashed lewd and lascivious comments about my bride and parts of her body, referencing things they’d like to see her do to them and what they’d levy upon her to even the score, I improvised my next move. I realized she wouldn’t be fond of it, especially regarding her injury, but I also knew Natalia would have no difficulty whatsoever handling this inopportune state of affairs with one arm literally tied behind her back.
“Look, I didn’t come here to argue or fight…or get buried alive, either. That being said, maybe money isn’t the proper form of…legal tender for this transaction.”
One by one, each man turned his eyes back to me while displaying difficulty in doing so, each not wishing to remove his attention from Natalia’s form.
“You got a proposition for us there, buddy?” the man behind the counter asked.
“I might. Depends on the outcome. I’d like to see us all get what we want.”
Appendix spoke up again as he unholstered. “Oh, believe me. We are going to get what we want,” he said, licking his lips. “A whole damn lot of it.”
“I do believe you,” I said. “But you’re not going to need that.”
He gave me a bewildered look.
The gun, stupid. I’m referring to the gun in your hand. I used my eyes and tilted my head, gesturing to it.
He glanced down at it, then squinted, finally picking up on my signal. “Oh? And why is that? It’s worked pretty good so far.”
I shrugged. “Because, she’s…well, she’s…” I tried to sound unsure of what I was saying.
“She’s what?”
“She’s…into it.”
Counter man grumbled. “Into it? Into what?”
I turned to him. “It.”
All three men stared blankly at me, either in fear, disbelief, or feeblemindedness. Or perhaps a mixture of the three.
After checking Natalia out through the window once more, the man to my right said, “Come on. You ain’t serious.”
“Serious as a heart attack. My wife loves that kind of stuff. In fact, she might prefer more than just one of you at the same time, if you catch my drift.”
“What the hell? She some sort of freak or something?” the man holding the 1911 asked.
“That’s something you might want to propose directly to her, or maybe find out yourself by doing. I can guarantee all of you, she’s ready, willing, and highly capable of making all your dreams come true.” I chuckled to myself. “She even has this…I don’t know…motto of sorts.”
“What motto?” counter man asked.
I scoffed at myself. “For the life of me, I can’t recall it word for word. But it’s something along the lines of ‘come hungry, leave happy’.”
Only a few seconds went by before the two men with teeth made their way to the door. They stood there a moment, waiting for their compatriot behind the counter to join them.
Mr. Toothless eyeballed them as they beckoned. He turned to me just before leaving the counter. “Don’t bother nothing while we’re gone,” he said. “I’ll turn the pump on for you once we get back.”
I gave him an odd look. I was still in utter disbelief that not one of these men had been aware I’d just sold them with a slogan used by the International House of Pancakes. “So you actually have gas?”
He nodded. “Tanker truck showed up two days ago, right before the attacks. As of this moment, all my underground tanks are filled to the brim. And that shit is pure gold.”
“I see. Well, I won’t keep you. Get your time in while the getting’s good.”
“We’ll just be a few minutes. You sit tight and make yourself good and comfortable while we get comfortable with your old lady.”
I sent a wave their way as the trio exited to the sound of jingling bells. “Pleasure meeting you, boys. Y’all take care, now.”
Nineteen
Upperville, Virginia
Saturday, March 29
Nihayat al’ayam plus 1 day, 8 hours, 35 minutes
Included in the stunted list of positive traits bestowed upon me by my maker, I was fortunate to have been born a partial autodidact. That is, a person who’s able to learn things simply by teaching himself. I couldn’t do it with everything under the sun, but I’d been able to teach myself certain ideals, strategies, subjects, etcetera, over the years, though unnecessarily, overcomplicated proprietary software had not been among them.
It was taking me a while to figure out how to activate the gas pump, but with my new friends having found a pastime of sorts, I knew I had plenty of time to learn my way through the system. Natalia’s near-flawless form had ever so graciously afforded me that time. From the muffled hollers, grunts, screams, thuds, and thumps I was detecting from outside the store, I presumed she was giving each of her newfound shifty escorts a proper tuning-up.
After activating the pump, I wandered through the store, helping myself to a road atlas, a cold Coke, and a few candy bars. Then I went back to the counter and dropped a few hundred bucks on it, feeling obligated to, for some mysterious reason.
As I began questioning myself while wondering just why the hell I had bothered to do so, my eyes caught sight of a thin gloss-blue Dell netbook with a few greasy fingerprints on the cover. Thinking it might prove useful to us should we decide to make contact, I snatched it up just before making my exit and strolling back to the Denali.
The bodies of the three men with whom I’d recently made acquaintance were face-down on the gravel near my wife’s feet when I got there. Their clothes were torn, and they were all lying completely motionless—so much so, I couldn’t tell if they were dead or merely unconscious.
Natalia was busily examining her hands. She looked up at me briefly upon hearing the sound of the gas cover release and pop out.
After tossing my newly acquired items into the back seat, I reached for the fuel nozzle and pretended to tip a hat on my head that wasn’t there. “Top of the morning to you, ma’am,” I said, using my best hillbilly drawl. “I’d like to welcome you to Bubba and Cooter’s country store. Pump one is now on for the black yuppiemobile.”
Natalia looked away and shook her head at me. She said nothing, only toyed with her fingers.
I faltered at the initial aroma of unleaded gas fumes. “Everything turn out okay?”
Natalia replied without looking my way. “Sure. Fine. Perfect. Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “No reason.”
She sent me an aggravated look, still fiddling with the fingers on her right hand.
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I asked, gesturing to the bodies. I was starting to feel a little guilty.
“No, they didn’t hurt me.”
“What about your arm? You didn’t hurt it, did you?”
“My arm is fine.”
“Okay…what’s wrong with your hand, then?”
“Nothing’s wrong with my hand, either.” She paused extensi
vely—really extensively, then said, “I…broke a fucking fingernail.”
I wanted to laugh at the remark, but there was no way I was going to.
Natalia motioned to the pile of men she’d just taken out. “Am I to assume this was your idea?”
I shrugged again. “Maybe.”
She sighed. “Of course it was. Jesus. Of all the crazy notions, Quinn,” she spat. “And even the not-so-crazy ones. Would you mind explaining to me why you chose this particular scenario over…hell, I don’t know, a hundred other more sensible ones?”
Another shrug. “You were distracting them,” I said, peering over at her. “And I needed a distraction.”
Natalia added a smirk overtop a mutual look of interest and disdain. “They came out here staring at me and saying some really awful things, none of which I found the least bit flattering.”
“I can only imagine.”
“I’m sure you can. What…exactly did you say to them?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Q, don’t.” She pointed her finger at me. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Stop it! What did you tell them?”
I hesitated. “I told them…you weren’t from around here. And you were very, I don’t know…friendly and were looking to make some new…friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah.”
“I see. I guess that could explain why they were being so presumptuous and tactless.”
The tone of her voice told me she wasn’t buying it. “Okay, maybe friends isn’t the right term. It was more like…participants.”
“Participants…” She drew the word out as if trying to discern the rest without bothering to ask another question. “Okay, I give. Participants for what?”
I didn’t offer a direct response.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“Answer me,” Natalia said sternly. “What was I allegedly in need of participants for?”
I sighed. This answer necessitated caution. If I answered too quickly, it would appear as though I’d rehearsed this, which I hadn’t. If I took too long, it would look like I was searching for an answer, which I more or less was. Either way, my only preference was for my wife not to become more agitated after the injury to her digit. “It was for a…ménage à trois. Kind of.”
Natalia scowled, though surprisingly enough, she didn’t appear angry with me. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. “Quinn, you and I aren’t swingers. And for the record, ménage à trois is French for ‘household of three’. It infers an aggregate of three people. There were three of them and me, for a sum of four.”
“Right,” I said. “My fault. I guess the term I should’ve used, you know, for the record, should’ve been gangba—”
“Don’t you dare even utter the word,” Natalia said, interrupting me with a snap of her fingers, almost in a laugh. “I know what you meant. You’re referring to a-a…karusel.”
“A what?”
“It’s Russian slang. It means…well, the same thing. Only it doesn’t sound nearly so uncouth.” Natalia took a few steps closer. “Curious. What did you need the distraction for?”
“Threat mitigation.”
“Threat mitigation?”
“When I inquired about purchasing gas, I opted for the affable Dudley Do-Right approach, but that only made them want to fight me. In fact, one of them even drew his gun on me. Go figure.”
Natalia nodded, then underhanded Appendix’s chrome 1911 my way. It was all I could do to catch it before it smacked the Denali’s unblemished rear quarter panel.
“Thanks,” I said, dropping the magazine out of the magwell and extracting the loaded round from the chamber. “Suppose I’ll keep this as a souvenir.”
“Why didn’t you just fight them?” she asked. “The presentation of a firearm never stopped you before.”
“I was actually getting ready to. But when they caught sight of you, they quite literally fell in love. So I just went with it.”
“You went with it…”
I nodded, trying to maintain a look of innocence. “I knew it would get them away from the counter and out of the store. And I needed those things to happen so I could figure out how to get the pump running.”
Natalia shook her head in disgust. She turned, knelt, and began scouring through her victims’ pockets, pulling out sets of keys along with their wallets.
I watched her rifle through their things, careful not to use her middle finger. “I’m sorry about your nail.”
“Yeah, me too. Just…do me a favor the next time you resolve to pull one of those wild hairs from your ass.”
“Sure. Name it.”
She sent me a cantankerous look accompanied with a grin. “Either make me aware of what you may or may not propose beforehand, or handle the belligerent, drunk, oversexed townies yourself. And leave me and my poor nails out of it.”
I attempted an offer in compromise. “Tell you what. If we find a nail salon open on our way, I’ll stop and get you a manicure.”
“Thanks. That’s sweet of you.” Natalia rose and craned her neck to peer around the building. “So, while you were inside making friends, did you happen to see a ladies’ room?”
I offered her a negative response, then pointed. “It’s probably around back, but I highly doubt you’ll want to use it. Most places like this don’t prioritize the cleanliness of their lavatories.”
“I’m afraid my body isn’t giving me a choice in the matter.”
I snickered. “Need help?”
“No, you’ve provided enough assistance for me today,” she said with a coy smile. “I’ll manage.”
I told her where to look for the keys behind the counter. Natalia went inside to get them, then strolled behind the building to locate the restroom.
While perusing the atlas I’d taken from the store, I steered my eyes along the red and blue colored roadways to our west, using my index finger as a guide. I broke open one of the candy bars and took a big bite out of it, then chased it with a swig of Coke, feeling the near-instantaneous effects of a much-needed sugar fix.
A few minutes later, I saw Natalia on the approach after she’d finished ‘powdering her nose’. She cocked her head at me and strutted up to the Denali, placing both her hands on the hood, one of which was holding a rather large iron ring. There was a length of chain and two keys dangling from it, which I assumed to be for the bathrooms. The ring was damn near six inches in diameter and had a small yet very heavy-looking cannonball attached to it. The cannonball even had the letter L stenciled on it in white paint.
“I’ll never understand why gas stations in this cursed country feel the need to keep their bathroom doors under lock and key,” Natalia griped. “Seriously…what do they suppose you’re going to do? Pilfer the sink or the toilet? Or perhaps it’s the slime green pumice soap they’re worried about.”
“That’s a pretty impressive key ring.”
She held it aloft and studied it. “Yeah. I thought so, too. Guess they didn’t want anyone stealing the keys to the bathroom, either. This cannonball thing has to weigh at least twenty pounds. And where the hell did they manage to procure a cannonball?”
I snickered at the remark. I grew up in an area not far away from the West Virginia border, where most gas stations handed out bathroom key rings that blew this one away. “This is Virginia…we’re smack-dab in the middle of Civil War history hell. Believe me, it isn’t hard.”
She nodded indifferently, taking a quick look around the parking lot. “So, not to add more weight to those big shoulders of yours, but do you have any idea where the hell we are? Or where we might be headed? I’d try the navigation system in our getaway vehicle, but someone disabled it.”
“I’m working on it,” I replied. “Actually, we’re only about a half an hour or so from where I grew up.”
Natalia tilted her head. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” I motioned for her to c
ome closer and arranged the map so she could get a better view, then pointed to the area just west of our location on the other side of the mountain. “That’s Clarke County, and that’s Frederick County, and this is the entire Shenandoah Valley…my old stomping grounds. We should be able to find a place out this way to hole up for a while.”
Natalia studied the map, paying close attention to the shades indicating population density. “It looks nice, but it’s nowhere near any of our caches in the States. What do we do about supplies?”
“We have a decent arsenal in-hand already, plus IDs, credit cards and plenty of cash. We’ll make do,” I said. “The national forest is just west of the valley. It’s mostly vacant this time of year, from what I remember. We’re talking thousands of acres of forest land…it stretches along the state line with West Virginia for a hundred miles.”
“I take it you’re familiar with the area within?”
“Yeah, but it’s been a while. If our goal is to remain unseen and set up a base of operations for the interim, it’s a good location to make it happen.”
Natalia reached for my arm and wrapped hers around it, pulling herself close enough to me that I could feel the warmth of her body on my own. “So we’re moving to the woods?”
“Do you object to those plans?”
“No. I love the woods,” she cooed. “And I trust you. Wherever you go, I’ll follow, you know that. You’ve done a pretty good job so far of keeping us both alive.”
I nodded. “Thanks. But I have to say, I’m not used to hiding, Nati. I’ve always preferred the opposite—hitting my enemy head-on and eliminating the threat. This is different for me.”
“As in bad different?”
“Not necessarily. I just see a lot of changes on the horizon for the two of us.”
Natalia squeezed me. “We’re together. We’ll be fine. I know it.”
Until Nothing Remains: A Hybrid Post-Apocalyptic Espionage Adventure (A Gun Play Novel: Volume 1) Page 21