Revenence (Novella 2): Dead Tired

by M. E. Betts

  That night after work, in the truck, Adrian brought up their escape once again.

  "We leave tomorrow night," he told Ragtop. "You ready?"

  "That soon?" Ragtop asked. "I thought I'd have a day or two longer."

  "It's probably for the best that we hasten the process," Adrian said. "Duncan's snooping pretty hard now. I don't expect this arrangement to last much longer, at this rate."

  "Yeah," Ragtop agreed. "Duncan figures out Celia's your daughter, it's gonna throw a serious wrench into the works. Tomorrow night, it is. I think we can swing it."

  The following morning, upon his arrival at work, Adrian approached Celia while the garage was empty, save for themselves and Ragtop.

  "Celia," he said, "we're getting out of here tonight."

  Her face lit up. "We are? I mean, I'm not complaining, but it seems kinda sudden. Are we ready?"

  Adrian nodded. "Ready's we'll ever be." He reached out to gently rub Celia's cheek with his knuckle. "I love you, little flower. We're gonna get outta here, find some place you can grow."

  Celia threw her arms around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. "I love you, daddy."

  During work that day, Adrian struggled to remain patient, trying his best to be casual, as if it were just any day. He and Ragtop sent their other two co-workers on a scavenger hunt around town that amounted, more or less, to a goose-chase designed to occupy their time and keep them out of the shop for the day.

  "You'll be lucky to find all that stuff today," Ragtop said as he saw them off. "Come back when you have everything on the list."

  Later that day, Adrian waited until everyone was gathered outside during lunch break.

  "Gotta piss," he announced to the group he shared lunch with. "'Scuse me."

  He entered an open bay door, walking toward the back as if to use the restroom. He walked past the facilities, however, glancing over his shoulder to be sure he was still alone. With no sign of anyone inside the building, he entered the second to last bay, searching through the backpacks that hung on hooks lining the wall. He quickly found the one he was looking for, belonging to a true sadist who went by Spike. Spike, after finishing his shift at the garage, would be working the evening shift at the nearby Pantex facility. Remembering everything he had heard about Spike, Adrian didn't have to wonder if he should feel guilty as he opened a large, empty side pocket on the sadist's backpack and planted one of the IEDs he and Ragtop had crafted in the shop after hours.

  Adrian placed the explosive and buckled the pocket closed, then turned to head toward the bathrooms. He figured he would actually urinate before going back outside, but an approaching figure made him change his mind just before he reached out to push the door open. He hurried to meet the large male, who he now saw to be Duncan.

  "How's it going?" he said, internally thanking his lucky stars that Duncan didn't walk in just a bit sooner.

  "I brought a revised list of the fuel stations," Duncan said, holding up a sheet of paper. "Everyone else is outside, I see."

  "Thanks," Adrian said as he took the sheet of paper.

  Duncan smirked. "All alone in here on your lunch break? What are you doing, working around the clock? We don't offer overtime around here."

  "No," Adrian said. "I'm going back out to finish my lunch break. Just had to take a quick whiz."

  "Fair enough," Duncan said as he spun around. "Gotta get back to work, myself. Later, rebel."

  Back outside, Ragtop waited until he was sure Duncan was gone, then moved in closer to Adrian.

  "Everything good?" he asked.

  "I think so," Adrian said. "Timing could have been worse. We gotta keep an eye out for him, though."

  That evening, Adrian and Ragtop made a point of hanging back as the garage emptied out little by little.

  "Irene and me are going home," Celia said to Adrian, stopping at his bay on her way out.

  "We'll be there around eleven to get you," Adrian said. "Go home, get your stuff ready, and try not to let Irene know anything's up."

  Celia furrowed her brow. "So we can't offer for her to come with us?"

  Adrian sighed, rubbing his chin. "You know her better than I do, Celia. Only interaction I ever had with her is to catch her dagger stares."

  "You don't know what she's been through!" Celia said, glancing toward the lobby to be sure Irene wasn't nearby. "She's not from here. You know where she came from?"

  "Celia--" Adrian began.

  "One of those towns the sadists did a good job of wiping out, that's where," Celia said. "Everyone that was there is either dead or a rape slave to the sadists, at most. All of them except for Irene. She agreed to work and keep her mouth shut, as long as they agreed to leave her body alone. She still carries a gun, though, and not just for undead. She's afraid she'll have to use it on one of these sadists. You know how folks are in these parts. Some of the guys have tried messing with her, even Duncan on a couple of occasions."

  "If you really think she's trustworthy," Adrian said, "then fine. But promise me you'll at least wait until the last minute to say anything to her."

  "Why?" Celia asked.

  "It's likely to be safer for us," Adrian said.

  "I guess I can do that," Celia said, kissing him on the cheek. "See you later, daddy."

  "Later, little flower," Adrian said.

  He and Ragtop lingered in the garage for around an hour after everyone else had gone home.

  "She's ready to go," Ragtop said as he lowered the hood of the truck, then patted it lovingly. "As long as everything goes to plan, she'll get us out of town." He turned to Adrian. "You ready?"

  They were preparing to drive around town to place some of the IEDs they had constructed overnight in the shop. They were also making Dean's usual nightly delivery in his stead so that he could pick up the other two individuals who would be leaving town. He and the other two men were to place the remainder of the explosive devices before they all met up with Adrian and Ragtop at the garage.

  "Yeah," Adrian said, looking the vehicle up and down, front to back. "I think so. Seems we did a good enough job here."

  They both began to pack up for the evening, going out through the open bay. Adrian took an envelope, labeled "FOR PFEIFER'S EYES ONLY' in bold black marker, from an interior pocket of his duffelbag and placed it into his coat pocket. The plan was for Ragtop to drive them to the leader's headquarters, where they would drop the envelope on the windshield of Pfeifer's pickup upon making the usual delivery of daily paperwork.

  "Ready to spend your last night in this sadist's playground they call a town?" Ragtop asked as he pulled the rolling door down and locked it.

  Adrian smirked. "I was born ready."

  Pfeifer, Duncan, and half a dozen others sat inside the large living room of the home where Pfeifer's headquarters was located. Other than Pfeifer himself and his second-in-command, all six other occupants of the building were gathered around a round dining table, engaged in a game of poker.

  They were Pfeifer's lieutenants, each one more or less running their own nearby settlements on Pfeifer's behalf. They gathered for a meeting with the leader, though they were waiting to begin the meeting until after Pfeifer's expected nightly delivery. The usual guards paced just outside the building so that there were no extra sets of ears inside to potentially eavesdrop on the propietary information which would be discussed.

  Duncan peered through his round spectacles at them as he and Pfeifer lingered near a desk lining the rear wall. "I wouldn't trust him," he told Pfeifer, his tone low so that the others couldn't overhear the conversation. "I mean, who is he, really? He just shows up here outta nowhere." He paused. "And have you noticed that him and that little girl look alike? The one working in the garage?"

  Pfeifer looked blankly at him for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I don't care for conspiracy theories, only for results. He's getting the job done. I see no evidence of what you're suggesting, but I do
see evidence of that truck being completed on schedule."

  The sound of rubber tires approaching in the gravel drive was heard from outside, cutting the conversation short, and Duncan approached the window. He pulled the blinds down slightly to peer out. "Speak of the devil," he said.

  A few moments later, Adrian exited the passenger-side door of the pickup and made his way to the front door, knocking briskly after exchanging a few words with the nearest guard.

  "Got it," said one of the men at the table through a smooth, fast-paced bayou accent. He rose from his chair and crossed the room to open the door. "Should be a minute before Red finishes his move, anyway. Almost like the couyon knows he's gonna lose."

  Adrian entered, briefly surveying the occupants of the room. The one who had opened the door appeared to be of mixed ethnicity, with African bone structure set onto clear, tan skin and light hazel eyes. He oozed a sort of manly charm that reminded Adrian of characters he had seen in the anime cartoons Celia watched obsessively before the apocalypse. His long, dark hair was slicked back and secured in a ponytail, and his mannerisms and swagger were as stylish as the trench coat that swished around him as he moved. He had an overall air of casual, confident machismo.

  A hulking, red-haired giant at the table glowered in the direction of the trench coat-wearing man, glaring through dark-blue eyes set within a face that was nearly white, other than the masses of freckles splashed over his entire visage. One of two females in the room, a tall, middle-aged blonde, uttered a quiet laugh.

  "He's right," she said. "Stop delaying the inevitable, Red, and wrap this up, okay? I have engagements tonight, after all."

  The other man, the one who had opened the door, snorted. "Isn't that a nightly thing for you, doll?"

  The blonde shrugged as she reclined in her folding chair, a coy smile spreading her lips wide. "Pretty much," she said. "What, you wanna have a go? You don't have to be jealous."

  "Babycakes," the man said through his distinct, fast-paced twang as he smirked back at her, "I'm not sure I could handle you." He nodded briefly at Adrian before making his way back to the table to return to his game.

  Adrian nodded back, trying not to stare at the striking collection of individuals seated at the table. Although the woman who had spoken was seated, he was certain that if she were to stand, she would tower over him, with even her bulk exceeding his own. She looked like a weathered version of the Valkyries he had seen in paintings, hulking yet womanly. Her muscle structure was substantial, bordering on massive, but her overall shape was soft and feminine. Look at this colossal cougar, Adrian thought, quickly averting his eyes.

  The red-haired gentleman beside her nearly dwarfed the giant woman, and his face was severe, like someone who had been juicing for too long. He wore a smug, unjustifiably proud expression that Adrian had seen often on men in their twenties and thirties in the small town where he grew up and lived, back in the old world.

  Beside the redhead sat the other female in the room, a young latina with long, sleek, well-styled hair and full make-up. She winked at Adrian and batted a set of long, fringy false lashes. She was clad in a sleek, tight-fitting leather suit zipped down slightly at the chest to reveal cleavage that only the right push-up bra can create. Adrian looked away from the young lady, unsure whether she was an adult or an underage teenager.

  Sitting beside her was a dark-skinned man with cropped black hair and inky, opaque irises that looked around the room with a steady, unsettling gaze sitting above his pursed lips. He wore a plated black tactical vest over a matching T-shirt with black-and-gray fatigue pants.

  Averting his gaze from the table altogether, Adrian approached Pfeifer at his desk.

  "Here you are, sir," he said, handing the leader the pile of paperwork sent by Irene.

  "Thank ya," Pfeifer muttered. "You all making decent progress on that truck?"

  "Yes, sir," Adrian said. "Won't be long at all, and we'll have her ready to go."

  Pfeifer was quiet for a few moments, nodding slightly. "Keep me informed. That truck means a lot to me, and to Amarillo."

  Adrian nodded. "Will do," he said, turning toward the door. "Night, fellas."

  Irene slipped quietly through the dark back yard, entering the shed. Once inside, with the door closed behind her, she peered through the window at the house. It was unlit, other than the room she and Celia shared, the one where the girl currently slept by the light of a dim LED lantern.

  "Poor girl," Irene whispered under her breath. Celia had been rather insistent that they sleep in the same room, dragging a futon from the living room into the bedroom upon moving in.

  "What are you afraid of, hon'?" Irene had asked her. "We're downtown. It's safe enough here. What's got you spooked?"

  "Ghosts," was the short reply Celia had offered. The haunted expression on the young lady's face had kept Irene from wanting to press the subject any further.

  From inside the shed, confident that Celia was asleep in the house, Irene pulled a walkie-talkie from her robe pocket, hesitating for a moment before she pressed the talk button.

  "Duncan," she whispered into the mouthpiece. She heard the cracking of her voice and the pumping of blood in her ears. "Can you talk? Is now a good time?" She waited several seconds before she heard a reply.

  "Hold on," Duncan's voice said from the speaker. After several more seconds, he spoke again. "What is it?"

  "You were right," Irene said. "About A.J. He's getting ready to leave tonight, him and Ragtop. And that's not all--they're going to take Celia with them. She's young and naive, and she doesn't know any better."

  "I see," Duncan said. "And how do you know all this?"

  "I heard them talking about it," Irene said. "Earlier today, at the shop. I was hiding and listening--snooping, more or less. But what you said about him got me thinking, and I'm worried about her. And well, it turns out you were right.

  "Good work," Duncan said. Although Irene didn't understand why, these words coming from Duncan made her wince. "What's their plan, then?"

  "They'll be here around eleven to pick her up," Irene said. "With the truck, of course. After that, I don't know."

  Duncan's response was curt. "You don't worry yourself about that," he said. "You've done your part."

  It was around ten that night when Ragtop unlocked the garage door that opened to his and Adrian's work station, having finished placing explosives and slipping the envelope onto Pfeifer's windshield.

  "Don't worry," he told Adrian, whose eyes darted anxiously around the lot and toward the highway. "It doesn't look weird yet. We're getting some extra work done. We've done it before, and no one batted an eye then."

  "I know," Adrian said as they entered the bay. "Just hoping everything goes according to plan."

  "It will," Ragtop said. "We got this, man. Tomorrow morning, we'll wake up somewhere else, start new lives. Start over again. It'll work, as long as we stick to what we talked about."

  Adrian walked deeper into the garage, having a thorough look around to be sure they weren't forgetting anything.

  "Let's get Celia's bike loaded into the back of the truck," he said. "Not much left to do but wait for the guys and then get the hell outta Bomb City."

  It was 10:57 when Celia's phone vibrated beneath her. She slid her hand beneath her belly, turning the alarm off before rolling over. She swung her legs off of the futon, her bare soles meeting the cool, wooden floor planks. Crossing the room, she took off the oversized T-shirt in which she had slept, then slipped into her jumpsuit.

  She knelt and lifted the backpack that held her scant personal possessions, which amounted to the outfit she had been wearing when she was kidnapped and some grooming and hygiene products. She slung the bag over her shoulder and slid her phone into her back pocket. She lifted one foot at a time into her boots, zipping each one behind the ankle, and then stood staring out the window that faced the street, taking her phone from her pocket periodically to check the time. After several minutes, she spoke and awoke Ir
ene, who slept on the far side of the room.

  "Irene," she said, waiting quietly as the woman stirred and rose up slightly onto her elbows.

  "What is it, Celia?" she asked groggily. After a moment, her face cleared a bit. "What time is it?"

  "Around eleven," Celia said. "Irene, my dad's on his way here to get me. We're getting out of town."

  Irene frowned, sitting up fully. "Your dad?"

  "Yeah," Celia said. "You know that guy that goes by A.J?"

  "Oh--" Irene got out of bed and began pacing the floor. "So A.J.'s your--"

  "Dad," Celia said. "Irene, is something up with you?"

  "Heavens," Irene muttered, covering her mouth with her hands, "what have I done?"

  Pfeifer was preparing to leave his headquarters for the night, having run down his usual checklist before locking up and walking next door to the other house on the property. Duncan walked into the bathroom, a walkie-talkie in his hands. He covered the speaker with one giant, meaty palm.

  "It's Irene," he told Pfeifer in a muted tone. "I think she's lonely."

  Pfeifer rolled his eyes, nodding. As he put on his jacket, one of the lower-level guards came through the door from the parking lot, where he and his fellow security personnel were getting into their various vehicles.

  "Sir," the young man said, approaching Pfeifer with a manilla envelope in his hand.

  Pfeifer frowned. "What is it?"

  "I found this on your windshield," the boyishly youthful guard informed him. He handed Pfeifer the sealed envelope. He opened it and read the printed contents with a deep scowl etched into his face. It read:

  You should be aware of a plan for take-over scheduled to begin tonight around 11:00. Although I can't reveal my identity, I can tell you what I know. I overheard Spike talking to someone else in town over the radio, but I don't know who he was speaking to. They talked about a plan to lay improvised explosive devices all over town, focusing on the nuke plant. I wish to remain anonymous, but I thought you should be aware.