Maxon found out later on that the old man suffered from dementia and it was because he didn’t want to leave that the family was late in coming out. No one could answer why that important bit of information wasn’t filed in the report or why the old man was even living in the house to begin with. Since then the Council has passed new measures to have the computer run more thorough back ground information before a wreck, but of course that system isn’t fool proof either.
As for Bruce, he was given a minor sanction that amounted to nothing. Essentially, the fact that he caused the death of a civilian was swept aside and filed as a job related accident. The family had to accept the decision. It wasn’t like they could have done anything anyway. There weren’t any lawyers around anymore to get a lawsuit filed and even if there were, the Council would never hear it.
This was all in the forefront of Maxon’s mind as he squared off against Bruce in the common room. He couldn’t allow Bruce to once again hijack the situation and make him look weak in front of his crew. If he was going to make it through this night, he had to impose his leadership on everyone.
Bruce stood up and took a step forward. Maxon stood his ground and didn’t move, didn’t even breathe.
“You know,” Bruce said, “I could just ask for your job if I wanted to. I’m sure I’d get it too.” He was right up against Maxon’s face now.
Maxon could feel Bruce’s hot breath invade his nostrils with a stale stench of onions and garlic. He felt an urge to gag, but he was able to swallow it.
Bruce continued, “All I would have to do is make a visit to my uncle and tell him that you’re no longer fit to run a crew, that you’re getting a little long in the tooth. Lead Wreck Lennox. I kinda like the sound of that.”
Maxon gritted his teeth and clenched his fist at his side. He knew that Bruce wanted to get hit so he could bring that charge up to the Council. Maxon composed himself and relaxed his jaw as he felt his crew’s eye’s bearing into him, waiting to see how he will react.
“Watch yourself, Lennox,” he said. “You’re addressing a superior. You’ll be up on dissent charges so fast I’ll make sure you stay rookie class for the rest of your life.” Bruce glared back at him for what seemed like a long time. Maxon held his ground, not allowing his eyes to leave Bruce’s.
A smile then broke out across Bruce’s face. “You were always so easy to rile up, Max, you know that,” he said as he grabbed Maxon’s shoulders and shook him a bit. “I’m just messing with you, boss. You gotta loosen up. You’re gonna get a heart attack from how tense you are all the time.” He started to dust the tops of Maxon’s shoulders, brushing away invisible flecks of lint. “You wouldn’t want to put yourself in any danger before tonight’s wreck, would you? No, I don’t think you would.” He fixed the collar of Maxon’s jump suit and patted his cheek. “I like you, Max. I want us to be friends.” He leaned in and whispered in Maxon’s ear. “And my Uncle is very receptive to people I consider to be my friends.”
He went back to his chair and sat down, ironing out the pants of his jumpsuit as he did. “So boss, why don’t you go over again what we need to do tonight? I was a little late.”
Chapter 11
She stood in the kitchen, listening as the phone dialed home. It was up to five rings and would soon cut out when the voice mail kicked in. This was the second time she called Harley without an answer on the first couple of rings. He never let it ring more than a few times when he was alone. She knew something was wrong.
The rings got up to eight and she was about to hang up when there was a click on the other end. “Hello.” It was Harley, but he sounded out of breath, like he just came back in from jogging. There was something else in his voice she couldn’t quite pinpoint. It sounded almost like trepidation.
“Harley, where were you? She asked. “I called you before and you didn’t pick up.”
“Oh, you did? I was outside fixing something and I guess I didn’t hear the phone.”
“What were you fixing this late at night?”
A pause. It was subtle, but long enough for Sara to know that he was thinking of something to say. “I was working on the sup-pump. It just started to crap out all of a sudden.” He laughed at the pun. Sara didn’t laugh though.
“Harley,” she said, “what’s going on?”
Sara heard him swallow hard. “Nothing, what do you mean? I told you what happened.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know something is up. I can feel it in your tone. Are you sick?”
“No, everything’s fine. Honest.” He hesitated before speaking again. “I mean, I did have a hard time fixing the pump. I had to run out to pick up a piece for it and that took some time.”
“Where’d you go at this time?” she asked, the suspicion in her voice wasn’t hard to pick up on.
“No, that was earlier. I made a run over to the yard. Took me awhile to find what I needed, then I was working on it pretty much up until now.”
It was a plausible enough story. She knew he liked to work on stuff day and night if he could and she also knew that he practically lived in that junk yard on the outskirts. Still though, she wasn’t completely satisfied.
“Harley,” she started, speaking more slowly, “if there’s anything you need to tell me, I want to know what it is.”
“Sara, please-”
“Are you in trouble? Is that why you suggested I visit Dana, to get me out of the house? What are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything. You’re taking this was out of proportion.”
“Then why did you want Jasper and me to leave tonight?” she asked, her voice wavering with a combination of fear and anger.
“I just thought that it would be nice for you to see your sister, that’s all”, Harley said. Sara could hear that his voice was beginning to return to normal. “There’s no conspiracy and no foul play going on. Believe me when I say that. You always complain that you never spend enough time with her and now that you’re there you get all crazy about it.”
She did kind of see his point about that. “I know, you’re right, but I just had this strange feeling, that’s all.”
“It might be because you’re not used to being away from home, but that’ll pass. I’m sure if it.”
“Maybe.”
“Trust me, it is,” he insisted. “And you have nothing to be worried about. Everything is fine.”
“I know.”
“Good. How’s Jasper doing?”
“He’s great. Played virtual games all night with Lucas and now they’re passed out on the living room floor in sleeping bags. We promised they could have a camp in.”
“That’s good. Well, I got to go finish up here before I head in for bed. Kiss Jasper for me, will you?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. Sleep tight, Sara.”
“Harley, are you sure-” but he hung up before she could finish. She stood with the phone in her hand for a few moments before putting it back in the cradle.
Why had he asked her to give a kiss to Jasper for him? For most people that would be a normal statement, but for Harley it was completely out of the ordinary. Of course Harley loved his son, adored him even, Sara had no doubt about that, but he wasn’t in the least demonstrative or even physical with expressing any kind of emotion. He put a shield in front of him. He told her he got that from his grandfather, who he rarely spoke about. Whether he was unable or unwilling to open up Sara did not know, but she knew he wouldn’t even suggest it if something wasn’t very wrong.
“So, did he pick up?” Dana asked. She was standing in the doorway of the living room. She had a rejuvenator cap on her head and massaging gloves on her hands.
“Yes.” Sara said.
“And.”
Sara thought for a minute. The “and” is what troubled her. Should she follow her gut and see what the problem was, or should she trust that Harley was telling the truth. She debated what to do as she bit her lower lip. Finally, she looked up at Dana.
“Is
your Electro charged?”
“Yes, why?” Dana’s right eyebrow went up in a question. It made the cap around her head ride up slightly.
“I’m going to need it.”
Chapter 12
He stood with his head against the kitchen wall. He was sweating and feeling feverish. His nerves were getting more and more on edge as he got closer to midnight. He was pretty sure she bought it though. He had put on his best acting and sounded as believable as he could. Despite the fact that Harley felt he was able to cool Sara down, it was still a close one.
He had been outside finishing up the last of the wiring around the house when the phone rang. He knew he had to answer it this time so he ran for the door, but in doing so forgot that the wire was laid across the pathway and he tripped over it, slamming his shoulder against the ground.
He felt pain explode down his arm and for a moment he thought that he might have dislocated it. He got to his knees and clutched his shoulder. He attempted to move it in a circle and to his relief found that he could. The pain already began to subside and he thanked whoever or whatever was up there that it didn’t end up worse.
When Harley was able to regain his composure, the phone was already up to six rings. He staggered to his feet and ran the rest of the way through the door and into the kitchen. He snatched the phone up just before the voice messenger came on. He feared what would have happened if he didn’t make it in time, if he was one second late in getting up from the ground. One second, Harley thought. It would have taken just one second to ruin everything he did tonight.
He went over to the freezer and took out an ice pack. He held it against his still throbbing shoulder as he tried to compose himself. He went over everything again in his head, making sure he didn’t forget a step.
It took longer than expected to run the wire around the perimeter of the house. He had to work in the dark for most of it, only bringing a small flashlight with him. He didn’t want to turn on the floodlights for fear of someone seeing what he was doing and asking questions, not that there was anyone left in the area that would see him, but still, Harley knew better than anyone that there were eyes everywhere.
He had just finished securing the last trip wire when the phone rang. Now all that was left to do was wire the whole thing to the charger he would keep strapped to his body, to be triggered if the wire was tripped.
It was a surreal feeling to know that he would be wearing a detonator that could blow him and anything in a twenty foot radius to shreds. It was also humbling in a way, like acknowledging that there is a higher force in the universe and you’re just a microscopic speck in it. He could be blown away from this universe in a split second and it wouldn’t make a difference to it, but that wasn’t entirely true either. His death would have an impact on certain people, maybe even enough people to start a movement.
It was a perverse and some would say delusional thought, but Harley took a weird sort of pleasure in the idea that his death could be seen as a sacrifice that would be remembered forever. In a way, his death would achieve him immortality.
Despite the implications of such martyrdom, deep down Harley wanted none of it. What good was immortality if one wasn’t alive to enjoy it?
He removed the ice pack from his shoulder, which had now turned numb and put it back in the freezer. He felt his stomach rumble, this time from hunger and realized he hadn’t eaten anything in at least twelve hours. He looked at the clock. It was 11:15. There was enough time to have a quick snack before he had to prepare the charge. It was just a simple three wire connection that he could do in a few minutes so he decided to have what could be his last meal.
He opened the refrigerator door and stood there as the light from inside bathed him in a yellow incandescent glow. The refrigerator was terribly outdated; one of the last of its kind and Harley found himself having to fix the compressor every week. It leaked and wasn’t able to keep the food cold anymore, but it still had more character than any of the newer models being made and Harley was not going to give it up.
Sara wasn’t able to get down to the City Centre food dispensary before she left, so there wasn’t much to eat. There was a half-eaten loaf of wheat bread and some near empty jars of condiments. Towards the back Harley found some cuts of meat, chicken he thought it was, but he was never quite sure.
He hated the food that they were given at the dispensary. Sure, it tasted like it was supposed to, but it lacked a certain authentic quality, like he was eating a carbon copy of real food. He remembered when he was younger and his grandfather would come back in from hunting with a deer or rabbit or even a bunch of pheasants and he prepared them fresh for everyone.
The sliced not quite but almost chicken meat and jars of mustard were a far cry from that, but it was all he had and it was edible. He took it all out of the refrigerator, including the bread, and made himself a sandwich which he ate every bite of and, to his surprise, actually enjoyed. He guessed when one was as hungry as he was anything can taste good, even processed mystery meat.
When Harley finished he saw that it was a quarter to midnight. He didn’t realize so much time had passed. He quickly cleaned up, though he wasn’t sure why, and went back out to finish the hook up for the detonator.
It seemed to Harley that the air had grown still and slightly warmer than earlier. He went around back and began to connect the explosives to the wire at about ten foot intervals. It was definitely overkill, one or two would have been more than enough to get the job done, but Harley also needed to make it clear that he was packing major blast and was not to be taken lightly. If he had to go, he thought, might as well go in a blaze of glory.
Harley circled the perimeter of the house until he made it back to the front yard. He took the detonator from his pocket and grabbed the two end wires from the ground and attached them to either side of the device. He waited for the light on the box to turn green, but it stayed dark. He pulled out the wires and reconnected them, but still the device didn’t light green.
He checked the battery compartment. There were two AA batteries in place. He took them out and made sure they were facing the correct pole and checked the box again.
Still nothing.
Shit, the batts are dead, Harley thought. He didn’t have a fresh pair of batteries on him and he cursed himself for it. He ran back into the house to get more, now regretting that meal break he took and not checking the detonator earlier. It was an amateur mistake. Something his grandfather would have knocked him for when he was younger for being so scatter brained as he called it.
He found a box of AA batteries in the utility drawer in the kitchen. The date said they were expired by more than ten years, but that didn’t matter. He’d been recharging all his batteries for years now, ever since they were discontinued in favor of long range powered devices, which all new equipment ran on now. Essentially, all electronic devices were powered by intense radio waves emanated from the Nucleus main tower. The Council played up the efficiency of the system. Harley saw it as another way of stripping privacy and keeping tabs of everyone.
He checked his watch, ten to twelve. Back outside he replaced the batteries and once again attached the two wires, saying a little prayer as he did. If this didn’t work that meant the detonator was faulty and he only had the one. He wasn’t sure there was enough time to tinker with it either. He had the thing for years and in truth he didn’t even know if it was any good to begin with. He found it in the junk yard buried underneath a pile of old car parts. It was the only one he ever came across since then. Because of that he had no real way to test it. That would have caused more problems and questions for him, so he just assumed it was still good, rather hoped it was still good.
The light was still dark and he smacked the side of it with his hand, as if a few whacks would wake it up and make it cooperate on the one night he needed it to. It was no use. The thing was dead as done.
Harley dropped it to the ground and sat on the steps of the porch. His arms hung limply in betwe
en his legs as he stared out into the night. A light breeze blew and he could hear the rustle of each leaf on the trees as they clapped against each other. It was a pleasant feeling to be out here all alone and just listen to the sounds of nature. He heard a cricket chirp being answered by an owl hoot followed by the electrical buzz of a fire fly. He heard each one separately and all together it seemed.
If it was to end here, it wouldn’t be so bad he thought. It was the most peaceful way he could think of - but he didn’t want it to end here. He wanted to step out on his porch in the morning and hear the sounds around him and step out on his porch in the afternoon and do the same and he wanted to do it for years to come, with his son at his side.
Harley stood up and went back into the house. When he returned he had his shotgun in his hand. He pulled up a chair and sat down in it and waited.
Off in the distance he thought he could make out the rumble of a truck coming closer as the clock in the house struck midnight.
Chapter 13
Ancil woke to the sound of pounding at his front door. He sat up on the sofa where he lied down for a nap and rubbed his eyes. He looked around the room, as if he didn’t recognize it and tried to shake the grogginess from his head.
He had been dreaming he was trapped in a tunnel. The tunnel was pitch black except for a small pinpoint of light that was shining in the distance. Ancil knew that he had to make it to the light to get out, but it seemed no matter how much he moved toward it, the light didn’t get any closer.
He began to panic and clutched at the walls and discovered they were covered in a thick liquid substance. He knew immediately that is was blood. When Ancil drew his fingers to his nose he could smell the strong copper scent of it.
A siren began to blare in the distance behind him. It was low at first but got steadily higher. He started to run away from it, not seeing anything but the small pinpoint of light. The sound was getting closer and he was running faster. His heart racing and his arms were outstretched in front of him as he tried to run through the darkness.
The Midnight Stand (The Elysia Saga Book 1) Page 7