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BOOK: American Apocalypse Wastelands
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“Actually five, but two are a lesbian couple, so I think we can rule them out.”
“You got an idea who then?”
“Yeah. He's in the militia. I doubt if he has any connection to what happened on the road. I'll talk to him anyway as soon as Diesel gets back.”
“So we make Casey here an offer,” I said. “We tell him he can go home—that is, if Daddy will pick him up—but he has to tell us where his buddies are. We go wipe them out. Maybe Daddy shows his gratitude in a tangible way.”
“Sounds like a plan. You want to make the offer?”
“Sure. If Diesel comes back before I come out, you might have him take Donna for a walk.”
Max grinned. He knew what I meant. Donna was a healer, not a pain-giver. She might get upset if I had to resort to physical attitude adjustment tactics.
 
I walked back into the holding area, past the sign that read Check Your Weapons Before Entering! I checked mine. It was still there.
Casey was huddled in the corner. He didn't look at me.
“Hey, kid.”
“What?”
“I don't care if you are gay.”
That got a reaction from him. “Who said I was gay?”
“No reason to get defensive. Like I said, I don't care.”
“Fuck you.”
“How's the hand?”
“It hurts. Hurts bad. My ribs and head do, too.”
“Well, we got a nurse coming.”
“I don't need a nurse. I need a freaking hospital, thanks to you.”
“We don't have a hospital. We don't have a doctor. We don't have pain meds.”
“You don't have shit, do you? I want to make a phone call.”
“To your dad?”
Silence. Then, grudgingly, “Yeah.”
“Let me explain something to you. Just to make sure we're on the same page and all.”
“I'm listening. Hey, can you at least get me some aspirin?”
“No. Not until you listen to me and pick a scenario. You do know what a scenario is, don't you?”
He rolled his eyes. “An outline or synopsis. I'm not stupid.”
“First, I give you the backstory. You were seen killing those two old people.” He twitched at that and started to say something. He changed his mind and looked away from me. “The ones in the RV.” Just in case there were others. “Well, them people you killed?—Grandpa was a Marine Corps vet.”
That hit home.
Interesting
, I thought.
“Okay, now that I have your attention, let me present Scenario A. We have an eyewitness. We have a shell casing from Grandpa's execution.”
I liked the part about the shell casing. Thanks to
CSI
, which was probably still running somewhere, everyone knew that any evidence found on the scene would identify anyone who was within fifteen feet of a crime.
“I didn't shoot him!”
“Kid, I got your gun. I can walk outside and fire a round in the dirt. Then I pick up the brass. We got an eyewitness and a brass casing that I will say I picked up at the scene of the crime. Then, I get a pair of bolt cutters and I come in here, sit down all nice and cozy next to you, and start cutting off body parts until you confess.”
He was staring at me wide-eyed. “You wouldn't.”
“Kid, in this town I can do whatever I want. If you have not figured that out yet, then I am wasting my time talking to you. Am I?”
“No-o-o-o!”
“Look at me, kid. Look me right in the eyes. Do you think you can tell when someone is lying to you?”
He nodded his head.
“Good. I don't care if you are gay. Truth?”
He nodded yes.
“I don't care who your dad might be. Truth?”
“Yes,” spoken very softly.
“I have no problem with cutting off your fingers, toes, and cock if I have to. Truth?”
He just swallowed.
“Truth?”
“Yes!”
I figured later that threatening to cut his dick off was what tipped him over. Hell, it gave me the willies.
“You have any other scenarios?” This was tentatively asked. He wasn't sure yet how much wiggle room he had.
“Did you kill those people?”
He shook his head slowly, then the words started coming. “I'm just a spotter. I spot people I think might have something good. Then I follow them and call in. I give the description of the car and who's in it. They did the rest. Honest!”
I shook my head. “You want Scenario B?”
“Yes!”
“Tell me about your dad. Who he is? How I get hold of him?” He was nodding his head with enthusiasm now. “Then you tell me all about your friends. I mean how many. What kind of weapons. Where they are living. Anything you can think of. You got it?”
He got it. He was liking this plan.
“So talk to me, kid. Oh, one more thing. If it isn't like you say—or if any of my friends get hurt—then I am going to dig a hole in the ground, put you in it, and set you on fire. Truth?”
“Yes. Oh, my God. Truth.”
“Start talking.”
 
He did. One thing I noticed was that I could remember more than I could before. I don't know if it was because I was no longer feeding my brain a constant stream of stimuli or it was the memory trick Max had taught me a million years ago. Probably both.
Casey's short version was there were four men, two women, and a couple of pit bulls. Two of the guys were a couple. That was who had recruited him. I didn't ask if the pit bulls were in a committed relationship.
They called themselves the Bunker Busters. I thought that was interesting. They took the name because they originally planned to prey on people in bunkers. They had done a couple, but lost two of their original people in the process, and decided to go for softer targets.
They used the women as decoys. They would wave down the mark and claim to have mechanical problems. Then the women would pull their weapons at the right moment and whistle up the men. They usually left two people at their safe house to keep an eye on things.
They had AR-15s, a Ruger Mini-14, and a shotgun. The women had handguns only. All the handguns were semiautomatics. Glock and Beretta was all he knew. Two of the men had armor.
“Are there any veterans?” I asked.
“Yeah. Glenda was an MP. She's a real bitch, too. I think Jonesy was in the air force. My friends, Merle and Chad, told me they had been in the national guard. Darlene is just there for decoration. I don't know about the other
guy. I don't think he likes me. He calls me Little Bitch, if he talks to me at all. Chad said that he really likes me, but I don't think so.”
“Yeah, kid. I doubt it, too.”
“So when is this nurse getting here? I hurt!”
“One more thing. Your dad have a personal cell?”
“Yeah. Supposedly only three people have the number, but I doubt that.” I looked at him.
He sighed. “I suppose you want it.”
“Yep.”
“It's 202-456-1414.”
“One more thing. Daddy got a name and a title?”
He told me and then he grinned. The grin faded when he saw it made no impression on me.
“Alright. I'll go see if the nurse is here.” I got up to go.
“Hey! You're not going to hurt them, are you? I mean, for real. My friends—”
“Kid, they are all dead men walking now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I walked back out into the bullpen area. Donna was there. Everybody froze what they were doing and looked at me expectantly.
“He's ready for you, Donna.”
She gathered up the bags she had brought with her and walked past me. As she passed she said, “Hey, Gardener.”
I laughed. “Hey, Donna.”
Max asked, “So what did he have to say?”
I ran down what Casey had told me. Max looked off in the distance for a minute, thinking it through.
“So who's his daddy?”
“You are going to love this, Max. His daddy is Robert Case, the current National Security Adviser.”
“No shit?” We both started laughing. The laughter was tinged with an undercurrent of
Oh, my God
.
“How do you want to handle it, Max?”
“Well, hell, give Big Daddy a call. Don't lie to him. He should have the resources to do this quickly. Arrange for a pickup ASAP. We got a couple of hours of daylight left.
Meet him outside of Centerville, where Tommy picked us up. Then get back here. We got a house call to make.”
“Alright. You got any requests for the man in case it comes up?”
“Naw. Play it by ear. Do what you think is right. Hell, take my truck. We don't want the little shit dying on us.”
“Okay. I'll give ‘Bobby' a call. Then I'm going to the diner to get something to eat. By then Donna should have Casey patched up and ready to travel. Let Night know what's up.”
Max and I stood there and stared at each other for a handful of seconds. Then I shrugged and said, “Life's a bitch,” and laughed.
He didn't. “I can go with you—”
“No. I doubt if it's going to be a big deal. I mean, what did we do wrong?”
Max thought that was funny. “Yeah, really. Just tell the kid to keep his hand in his pocket. If it will fit.”
I went into the other office, which had the working phone. I picked up the handset and got a dial tone, took a deep breath, and punched in the number.
It rang three times before the other end picked up.
“Hello.” Brusque. A deep voice. A command voice. The kind of voice that, just by the tone, you knew you were going to have to make a real effort to satisfy.
“Mr. Case?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Officer Gardener. I am with the police department here. We have your son in custody.”
Silence. Then, “What are the charges?”
“Murder. Assaulting a police officer. Littering. Probably about five or six more that I can't think of off the top of my head.”
I could hear him inhale deeply and slowly let the air out. “What do you require from me?” It was a good connection, which was unusual nowadays.
“You want him back?” I asked.
“I'm sorry, what is your organization, and who the hell are you?”
I laughed. “If you are who your son says you are, you already know who I am, where I am calling from, and my favorite color. So let's not fuck around, okay?”
Silence. Then, “Very well. How do you want to do this?”
“Your son was in an auto accident and sustained injuries. He is currently receiving medical care, but we do not have the facilities here to do more than the minimal patching.”
“How bad is he?”
Finally
, I thought,
a note of actual concern. Or was it just guilt?
“Casey is all right. He has some cracked ribs, a broken hand. His forehead is messed up, and he probably has a broken nose. More than that I can't say because—”
He cut me off, “Because you do not have the facilities.”
“Correct.”
“Fine. I will meet you—”
It was my turn to cut him off. “Good. I'll give you directions.” I did. But the phone sounded dead. I wasn't sure if he had cut me off, the line had dropped, or he had muted it so he could talk to someone on the other side. Then, “I'm back. Fine. We estimate we can be at the pickup spot in forty-five minutes.”
“Make it an hour and a half. I'm hungry and he is still getting his boo-boos kissed.”
“Fine.” This was hissed. Then the line went truly dead.
I had left the door open. When I turned around, Max was standing there shaking his head.
“Damn. I'm glad you turned me down on my offer of backup. I'm not really sure now that letting you have my truck was a good idea.”
“Lighten up, Max. We both know if he wants his pound of flesh, he is going to take it even if I spend a half hour groveling and kissing his ass.”
He laughed. “Yeah. You really polished his knob on that call. The kid will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
I went over to the diner. The selections were getting limited. Shelli was trying to fill in the holes by using local foods and minimizing the meat offerings. At least that was what she told me. I figured it was more of the Burner vegan crap. The only choice I found appetizing was a medium well-done goat burger. I didn't even bother to ask what the goat had done to end up on the menu.
My waitress was the same girl as the day of the swearing-in ceremony. She was civil but a little distant. I shrugged it off.
I headed back to get the kid. Max was gone. Casey was out of the cage and sitting with Donna talking. He did not look as enthusiastic about going home as I thought he would. “You ready, kid?”
“Yeah.”
Donna told him, “See you. I hope you feel better.” She turned to me. “I gave him a pain-killer. He's going to be groggy before too long.”
“Thanks, Donna. Come on, kid, I'm not going to cuff you.” I grabbed him by the elbow and steered him to the door.
We settled into the truck, and I put it into drive and headed down the road. Traffic was light and the sun was starting to set. Summer was fast disappearing, and the maple and oak leaves would soon be changing in their annual display of color. My favorite time of year, by far.
The kid had slumped against the door and his eyes were shut. He was still breathing, so I left him alone.
I better make sure he is breathing a couple miles out from the pickup
, I thought. I doubt Big Daddy would be very happy with me if I delivered a corpse.
He surprised me a couple miles further down the road when he started talking. “You know, you could drop me here and no one would ever be the wiser.”
BOOK: American Apocalypse Wastelands
4.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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