NOVEL NEXT 34) Ala Cart
34) Ala Cart
I fed the coyotes, set out some water for them, and ignored their pleading looks as I fixed something for me to eat...
Two diced up hot dogs and an onion pan fried in some canola oil, then half a can of baked beans. Something quick, and simple. And eating the beans might even get the coyotes off of my bed.
After letting them out and standing guard while they did their business, we walked a yawning Acey out to her tree.
She managed to grab my hand again since I wasn't on guard, but as got close to her tree, something occurred to me. "This isn't you, you're the tree. So why do you got to walk back to it? Can't you just stop being out here, just not keep whatever this part of you is going?"
The little green girl looked up at me and smiled a bit as she shook her head. Then held on to my hand as she walked away until both our arms were stretched out and she finally let go. Sinking halfway into the ground before pulling off her shirt and leaving it a crumpled pile behind her as she walked into her tree.
“Hrmp… goodnight.”
I managed to slip into my room before the coyotes could follow me and closed the door on them. “Not tonight, I need to stretch out.”
One of them scratched at the door before Wylina chuffed and I heard them jump up on the couch and the easy chair.
Then I laid there for a while, on my back not sleeping, but not thinking either. Just enjoying being alone without my thoughts.
I missed this.
Then I drifted off at some point.
Of course, sleeping on my back meant my own snoring woke me up a bit later, but I rolled over, pumped the pillow a bit, and after a while, I slipped away again.
The alarm woke me up in the morning with the sun barely up. I had set it the afternoon before for the first time in years. I had things to do today, and a place to be.
It was time to head back the my old job, again.
...and most likely get hurt again, if not killed…
“I’m hungry.”
Yeah. Feed the beasts. Keep busy so I don’t spiral into my own worries and concerns, letting my mind drift around and around again.
Let the coyotes out while I keep an eye on them. Feed and water them then fry up the eggs in the oil still left in the pan that was sitting out all night. Pour in some water and let some bratwursts boil, flipping them over to get the other sides before the water boils away, and then brown them in the hot pan.
Eat one, freeze one, and break up the rest for the coyotes. Who knows this may be one of us's last meal.
I eat a few spinach leaves, stems and all, for the fiber. And drink a glass of orange juice that I mixed up from some concentrate I left in the fridge to defrost last night.
No insulin today, although I do take most of the pills. I’m still not sure what all Life Essence can do for me.
I don’t have my cart. It had gotten left behind last time and the army guys said they were going to fix it up for me. So I’m going to have to hoof it today.
That’s how I want it.
I didn’t arrange for a ride, not for this. I want to make my own way there. No help, and under my own power, by my own choice, all the way there.
I looked down at Chubby as I locked up the place. "Hope you can keep up today pup, no free ride for you."
A yawning green girl pulls on the neatly folded shirt from yesterday. It was a bit dirty from working in the garden yesterday, but it's not like she was sweating or spilling food on herself.
I let her hug me around my hip and pat her on the head before I head down the street. Chomping on a freshly made apple as I go.
It takes me over an hour to get there between all my sit downs on the chair I keep in the magic storage thing. Between me and the two pups, we need the breaks.
I used to be able to do this walk in a half hour when my car was in the shop, or on the days Beryl needed it. But that was… a long time ago.
The bus from Elysian is there ahead of me when I get there, and Johanson walks me into the same tent where we had planned things out before.
I'm in kind of a daze as the Captain talks at me before Beryl lays a hand on his arm and says something that makes him shut up.
The other old gal was wearing a shawl over a tie dyed hoodie today, she felt my forehead until I shook my head loose and gave her an irritated look.
“Are you with us Mr. Bright? You seem pretty out of it.”
I huffed at her. "I am pretty out of it. Could you just do your thing already?"
She grins, showing off a missing tooth up front on top before laying her hand over my heart for several minutes with her eyes held shut. Finally, she pulled her hands away and sighed. “Got half a tank left for the mother coyote, could you hold her still while I set her up.”
It doesn't take much. The old woman explains what she is doing to the coyote like she expects the animal to understand the whole persistent stabilization thing.
Who knows, maybe she does.
They showed me my cart and handed me a clipboard and a pen.
The clean plastic riot shield they have put on the front of it is held on by a metal plate in the middle with something wired onto the front of the plate with the words ‘Stand Clear’ printed on it.
I look at the little redhead waving the clipboard at me. "What's that? The bill?"
She shakes her head at me a little with a tight lipped frown. "Contract hiring you as a civilian transporter. You're are to transport one Claymore mine, one AR-15 combat rifle, and thirty rounds of ammunition into the dungeon to see what happened to them."
I began hastily reading the paperwork in front of me while she nattered on.
“You are not, under any circumstances to brace the back wheels of the car with your feet and to pull on the white plastic ring hooked onto the wires. That would detonate the mine.”
I gave the cart a hasty look.
“You are not to flip the safety off or pull the trigger of the AR-15 which had been fixed on a metal rack inside the transportation device. That would cause it to fire a three round burst through a slot cut in the riot shield you are transporting.”
Some metal pipes had been welded together to hold up a toy like M-16 which had been mounted on its side so that the handle and trigger were facing to the left side of the cart. Toward my good hand.
The front end of the gun was just short of a slot cut into the plastic shield just above the metal plate.
“Regardless of either device spontaneously firing due to the conditions inside the dungeon you are to take no risks in returning the cart. In fact, if either the mine or the rifle don’t go off on their own, I would prefer that you didn’t wheel it back out with the munitions still armed and pointed at us.”
She tapped on her clipboard where a large 'X" had been marked in red where the form said Signature.
“The pay should be more than enough to buy a plot of land with a burned down house from the city."
I gave her a long stare, and she stared right back at me until I half laughed, half grunted, and signed the damned thing.
No matter how sketchy this was, I’m an old man off his meds under the ‘might as well be magic’ influence of an alien civilization. It’s not like anything that I do in there would hold up in court.
Besides. I like what they did to my cart. And it wasn’t like it was going to be all that hard to get another shopping cart.