by Chris Hechtl
“Thanks boss,” Julio sighed. “I don't think I'm cut out for this leadership crap though man,” he said shaking his head.
“Consuela was the one who got hurt right? Your girl?” Bill asked. The kid nodded. “So go to her. We're opening that Home Depot up across the street from your place now that we've got the time and resources. We're expanding it I mean. The Southern parking lot is going to be a full greenhouse when we're done. We'll work with your people; get them back on the right path. Train them if they need it. You can stay here with her until she's recovered.”
He glanced at Shane who nodded. “If that's what you want. Stepping aside for a little while.” Julio nodded slowly.
“Okay then,” Shane said getting up and stretching. “We've got rain tomorrow, so most everyone will be inside. Let's go get some food. I heard Jayne say something about tacos.”
“Bet that's really why you're here, Jayne's cooking. You missed it, be honest,” Bill teased, punching the kid's shoulder gently.
Julio shrugged a bit and got up. “Bring the beer, we'll each take one and then hand out the rest,” Shane said. “That'll smooth things over with some of the crowd. “Mend fences and all that,” he said amused.
“Thanks boss,” Julio said with a nod.
...*...*...*...*...
Julio came over from the Storage center a few days later. Consuela had done okay; she'd been released after a single night and had insisted on going back to the Storage center. He wasn't sure why but he knew better than to try to argue with her.
Julio tracked Jen down and came over to her nervously. She was in the infirmary today, looking even worse than a few days ago. He gave Jen pot to help ease her pain. Jen gripped his hand and smiled a wan smile and then fell asleep. He sucked in his breath. Wayne was visiting an injured teammate and looked over. He snorted at the sight of the bag but didn't react otherwise. “Man, how do you deal with it jefe, how do you deal?” Julio asked Shane outside in the hall.
“One day at a time Julio, one step, one breath.”
“Yeah, but this sucks!” the kid said, shaking his head in anger. He waved his hands helplessly. “That woman deserved better!”
“Tell me something I don't already know son,” Shane said, feeling tired and old. He'd gone through this, been living it for some time. Working through it wasn't a problem so much as dealing with the people who were watching from the outside.
“I feel so helpless,” Julio said. Trina buried her face in her father's chest. He wrapped an arm around her.
“Easy there, that tickles,” he said, looking down at her. She snorted a little.
“How can you make a joke right now?” a guy nearby demanded. Shane looked up at him and then sighed.
“For Jen. For them. We have to go on.” He stroked Trina's hair gently as he rallied his thoughts.
“We have to laugh, we have to cry. We have to live, otherwise what's the point? Why go on?” Shane stroked his daughter's hair gently. “We have to go on, for their sake if not our own.”
Bob nodded grudgingly at that. He looked at Tamara thoughtfully. She smiled and nodded as well. They had come by to pay their respects.
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light,” Tamara said softly. “Do not go gentle into that good night,” she said.
“He meant it about old age,” someone said quietly. They looked toward the voice. The guy hunched his shoulders. “Dylan Thomas,” he said as way of explanation.
“I think I like the public perception better, to fight death on all fronts,” Bob said with a nod to Shane. “And to not let it darken your door. We're with you man, if you ever need a hand,” he said, gripping Shane's right arm.
“Or a shoulder,” Tamara said smiling a little. Shane's eyes met hers and he nodded. He patted Bob's hand. His daughters looked up at him and then to the others.
“We thank you,” he said gruffly, voice rough with emotion. “We'll get through this together,” he said. “We all will,” he said, stroking Trina's hair again. “One day at a time. We'll take them as they come and count our blessings that they do. Treasure every moment.”
“Thank you for your gift Julio. It comes from the heart,” he said patting Julio on the arm. Julio nodded and walked out, face troubled.
Chapter 55
Wayne grimaced at the traffic jam near the Towngate center's Fredrick entrance. “What the hell's going on?” he asked irritably. He studied the group. There were a couple of vehicles and quite a few people. Fifty or sixty easy. All had come from the 60.
“Some sort of delivery maybe?” Nancy said shrugging. “Or refugees.”
“Doubt it,” the deputy said. Most of the traffic seemed to have come from Julio's direction. He got out of the truck and walked up the street to the gate. “What's going on?” he asked as he noted the driver arguing with a bunch of people, one of them the gate guard Keith.
The driver turned to him and shrugged, hands going into his pockets. The security guard looked at him in relief. “I can't raise anyone to buck this up to,” he said shrugging.
“Buck what up to?” he asked looking at the newcomers. Most looked like gang bangers. A few were their dependents. A couple had kids. “Folks you want to fill me in on what the hecks going on?” he asked, taking a relaxed approach. “I just got here.”
The lead driver looked at the others and then shrugged. “We're tired of eating shit and cleaning up after the bato's in the hood.”
“Um...”
“They're from Julio's group,” the guard supplied. “Which means they don't get in without a pass.”
“Ah,” the deputy said nodding. The group didn't look happy at that. “SOP folks. You know that. Julio's crew doesn't want to contribute.”
“Yeah, we know. That's why we’re here,” a woman said. “I'm tired of the party crap. Party all day, sleep all night. Or take pot shots at the aliens at night. I don't freaking need them bringing the aliens down on us cause they are too drunk to care.”
“They don't want to do anything. Just dig out crap and burn it. Nothin's getting done. Most of the crew are either drunk or stoned all the time. Place is a rat hole.”
“Ouch,” Wayne said wincing. “And you want out?” he asked.
“Hell yeah! Anything's better than that man! We worked like dogs at the mall but at least we had food and shit. Can't feed your kids on warm beer and reefers man,” one guy said, covered in tattoos and shaking his head. Wayne noted a nine mil tucked in the guy's pants. He was tempted to take it from him, every instinct of his career said to, but he didn't. From the look on some of the faces it was probably a bad idea.
“So you want back in? Back to work? No more parties? Just like that?” he asked.
A woman looked at the others and said something in rapid fire Spanish and then turned on Wayne. “Look,” she said spreading her hands and smiling. “We're sorry okay? We screwed up. Don't take this out on our kids. We screwed up. Not them.” She strutted over to him, smiling her best work smile. He tried not to hide an annoyed grimace. He'd been played by some of the best and knew all the moves.
“How many are there?” he asked, ignoring her to look at the convoy.
“Fifty six. Most of them families,” the driver said nodding. “Probably more will come, Por favor homes, it’s getting dark.”
“I see that,” Wayne said glancing at the sinking sun. It was already mid afternoon. They had about two hours of daylight left.
“We're not going to knock over anyone man. Julio said no. He's just estupido man, just stoned.”
“He don't matter no more man.”
“Tired of his shit man. We go out and get the food and the rest sit on their ass or are passed out drunk. Ain't worth it man. Ain't no babysitter. Tired of stepping in their barf and cleaning up their shit man. Getting pissed on. Ain't worth it.”
“Right,” others said. The crowd started to pile in. Wayne nodded.
“You'll have to surrender your weapons. No drugs. I don't care about alcohol. If you want your old job
s back you might find them taken. Hopefully you kept your ID's.” A few of them pulled them out and raised them up. He nodded. “Some of you may have to start over,” he said looking at them. Another car pulled up behind them. Six more people joined the refugees. He sighed.
“Keith right?” he asked looking at the guard. The guard nodded. “Get little Leon to clear a spot for them here. We'll sort it out in a bit. I'll check with the council.”
“I can't raise the boss or...”
“Don't worry about it, I'll take responsibility,” Wayne said as the refugees looked at him. He stared back. “Just don't make me regret it. Turn your weapons over to Keith here,” he said, nodding his chin to the guard. “No drugs. I don't need that shit here folks. The last thing we need is someone trying to work a machine here while stoned.”
“Shit,” one guy said grimacing. Reluctantly he pulled out a bag of marijuana. “Even this?”
“Even that. We don't want you if you can't be sober and clean. It ain't worth it. You want someone guarding you who's stoned out of his mind or drunk?” he asked looking around. A few nodded.
“Shit man, that's why I'm here. Last thing I need is some stoner leaving the gate open like what happened at Sams,” the woman near him said glaring at the sheepish stoner. “Fucking bato. Worthless...” She started cussing the guy in Spanish. His eyes flashed and he started to reply in kind.
“Enough!” Bill said coming around a corner. “What's the problem?” he asked. Leon was with him.
“Refugees,” Wayne said coming over to him. He turned to Keith and the driver. “Get the weapons, no drugs. Anyone acts suspicious or has a package they get searched. I don't care who they are. If they don't like it they can take a walk. Anyone caught with drugs inside gets a one way trip out of here. Got it?” he asked. They both nodded. “Good get moving on that.”
He turned back to Bill. “It seems Julio's posse has finally imploded,” he explained softly. He was afraid that would happen. He'd wanted to go check, but he'd blown it off.
“Ah,” Bill asked looking at the crew. A few looked like they were half starved.
“Apparently the party finally crashed. Or they just woke up. I'm wondering if it will stick,” Leon said smirking a little.
“Where's the boss?” he asked looking around. Usually he'd be on top of this.
Leon looked at Bill. Bill scowled a little, face bleak. “Jen had another bout of chemo and passed out when it was done. They hospitalized her for the night.”
“Oh,” Wayne said softly. “Shit.”
“Yeah man, sometimes life isn't fair. Sucks,” Bill said looking over the crowd. “Let's get these people sorted. We'll segregate them. I'll let Personnel know to reactivate their accounts and amend them.”
“Okay,” Wayne said nodding. “You were talking probation?”
“Definitely,” the security commander said nodding.
...*...*...*...*...
Wayne talked with Shane as he ate. He shook his head as he described what some of the people told them. “I don't get it. He had it all.”
“Victim of his own success,” Shane said picking at his salad. He'd hoped that talk with him and Bill had helped last week. Or was it the week before? He wasn't sure. Didn't care. Apparently not anyway. Beware the ides of March indeed.
“Victory disease. No. I mean, he started to clean up his act after Consuela got hurt a couple of weeks ago, but then it just sort of went downhill. Fell into some old habits. Some are hard to break.”
“Depression? Or something happened we don't know about?”
“I think the pressure of being the boss got to him,” Jayne said. They looked at her. She shrugged. “Each of us has had some training to take a leadership role. You two with military and police training, me with my job. But he was a minor player in the gangs before the invasion. To go from that to, well...”
“King of his own ant hill,” Wayne said.
“Yeah, he's dealing with that plus the depression of the invasion. He's retreated into old habits.”
“Well, its time he had a wakeup call,” Wayne growled.
“Don't bet on it. We've tried. I thought Jen got through to him when he was here, apparently not. Or at least not enough,” Shane muttered. “Some people can't break a cycle. Not with outside help. They have to want it and get out of the situation altogether, to clean up their act.”
“But the first thing is they have to want it, and have the will to make that stick,” Wayne said nodding. He knew, he'd seen it often enough on the force.
“Exactly,” Shane said.
...*...*...*...*...
The next morning Julio showed up at the gate. He wasn't very happy. In fact he was pretty hung over. So was most of his crew. He looked like shit, dressed in a leather jacket and torn jeans. His shirt had stains all over it. His eyes were bloodshot and he had bed hair with something sticky in it. The gate guard held him up there and he waited as the driver Pablo Perez came out.
“What's the matter? Didn't like it that your breakfast wasn't made for you?” the driver demanded sarcastically in Spanish.
“Not here man,” Julio said, eyes flicking around. He winced when he looked toward the rising sun. “Keep it down man. I got a bad one.”
“Tough shit Niño. I ain't going to wipe your mouth and ass. None of us here are. We're not going there man. We're not going back. We work like dogs here man but at least we're appreciated. I ain't cleaning up anyone's barf. I ain't going to nurse your hangovers and spend the night wondering if I'm going to get eaten. Spend the days trying to scrape food out of the trash. No more,” the driver said firmly, swiping his hands.
“If that's the way you want it,” Julio said with a shrug. He looked at his crew. Most of them had set sullen faces.
“Yeah man, it’s what we want. You're going downhill man, we're just getting off before you hit rock bottom. Think about that man. Think it through.”
“Whatever,” Julio said. He pursed his lips and whistled to his crew. He gave an absent hand sign and they piled into their vehicles. One guy gave Pablo and the guard a long look and then a jerky head nod. Pablo just nodded back quietly. They got back in the trucks and left.
The guard looked at the driver as he shook his head. “Stupid man, just stupid,” the guy muttered walking off.
...*...*...*...*...
Wayne and Torres took their teams over to the Home Depot later that afternoon. “Little shit's been throwing his weight around,” Maria Consuelez said shaking her head. “Thinks he's all that. He tried to get supplies out of me again this morning. We see his people trotting over here and we tell them to buzz off now.”
“Oh,” Wayne said looking at Torres. The woman had a set stone expression on her face.
“One big party over there. They'd better wise up. I ain't bailing their asses out when the shit hits the fan,” Maria said, shaking her head. She looked around at the others in her group who nodded grimly.
“We'll check it out. Julio's been put in his place but he's not wising up,” Wayne said.
“Comes from the company you keep. He's surrounded himself with trash. All they want to do is sit on their ass and party. Shit they were shooting in the air the other night. Just ripping crap off. Freaked my guys out. We checked, they weren't shooting at anything, just blowing off clips. Tossing bottles up in the air and blowing them up.”
“Yeah, we'll talk,” Wayne said wincing. He hadn't heard the gunshots or a report on them. He must have been out cold at the time.
“They're going to bring the aliens down on our heads,” a guy growled. “Stupid.”
“We'll talk to them,” Wayne said motioning for the others to follow.
They went across the street to the storage center and waited at the gate. No one was there. “No guards,” Tom said, looking at the wall. He stepped back to get a better view. After a moment he shook his head.
Wayne scowled. He'd seen it from across the street, but hadn't believed it.
“Think they're all out and a
bout?” Ursilla asked.
“Time we found out,” Torres growled, picking up a rock and rapping it against the metal gate. “Yo!” she yelled and then whistled.
Someone started cussing in Spanish. After a moment a guy came out pulling his pants up. Torres responded in kind, cussing at the guy. When he said something about her mother she looked like she was going to throw the rock. Wayne intercepted it before she could.
“Where are your guards?” Wayne asked as the guy opened the gate. The gate was on manual.
“Shit man, you took em all,” the guy muttered, looking at the crew coming in. “Reinforcements?” he asked.
“Not likely,” Torres snarled.
“We're not staying long. Just a social visit,” Wayne said, looking around. The place was trashed. Doors were dented or ripped up. Most of the walls and doors were covered in graffiti. Trash was everywhere. Even piles of crap. There were scorched marks here and there. A trio of guys were slumped against a pee stained wall, drunk or dead. One had a bottle in his hand and a pistol in the other. Hell if any of them were going to wake him up looking like that.
“Shit,” Quincy muttered as they entered the main compound. The gate man pointed to a big bay off to their right. They turned to see the door open. Julio was sitting in a throne, talking with a pair of girls in his lap.
“Having fun Julio?” Torres growled looking at the girls. The girls got up looking at her coldly and then walked off teetering unsteadily, one of them holding herself up with one hand on the wall. Wayne shook his head. It took all kinds apparently.
“What do you want?” Julio asked tiredly. He rubbed at his whiskered face.
“Social check.”
“Social services? Now this crap?” Julio said in disgust.
“No,” Wayne said glancing at the teams spreading out and checking the area. Many were on a razor thin edge of alert. “Nope. We were curious about how you were doing. You don't write, you don't call... you only come by when you want something,” he said turning back to Julio.