Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3) (8 page)

Chapter 9

Julian grabbed what was left of a bag of sandwiches and two cartons of curly fries, and got into the back seat of Stacy’s car.

“Stay behind us,” Tim told Randy. “Stick to the speed limit and don’t lag too far behind.” He got into the front seat of Stacy’s car and buckled his seat belt. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Just a second,” said Stacy through a mouthful of roast beef sandwich.

“Are you kidding me?” said Tim. “Come on!”

“Listen, you little troll,” said Stacy. “I’d like to remind you that you’re riding in
my
car and using
my
tablet right after torpedoing
my
job. I don’t want to get Arby’s sauce all over the car, so I’m going to finish my sandwich before we go.” She shoved the last quarter of the sandwich into her mouth and gave Tim the finger.

“I’m sorry,” said Tim. He was as humbled as Julian had ever seen him, and he’d seen him piss himself a number of times. “I was rude and I apologize.”

Stacy grinned at him, her cheeks still stuffed with sandwich. She started up the car.

They weren’t on the road for fifteen minutes when Randy’s van veered into the passing lane and pulled up alongside them.

“Are they fucking retarded?” said Tim. “How difficult are the instructions I gave them?”

Chaz stretched his brightly-sleeved arm out of the window, pointing to something on the right of the highway. It was a sign for the upcoming exit, advertising gas stations, restaurants and hotels.

“Jesus Christ,” said Tim. “Cooper probably wants them to stop at Taco Bell or something.” He leaned forward so that he could see Chaz past Stacy and vigorously shook his head.

Chaz turned to face Randy, and shortly after, the van pulled ahead of them and then in front of them.

“Can you believe this shit?” said Tim.

When the exit came, the van pulled off onto the exit lane.

“What should I do?” asked Stacy.

“Follow them,” said Tim. “Whatever this is had better be pretty goddamn important, or Ravenus is going to have a lot more balls to nibble on.”

The van pulled into a Texaco.

“They must be low on gas,” said Julian. “Can’t fault anyone for that.”

“I guess not,” said Tim. “Stacy, you should probably take off your top.”

Stacy looked down at Tim over the frame of her sunglasses. “Excuse me?”

“I mean top off your tank!” cried Tim. His face was redder than it had been when he was shouting at Cooper. “You know… as long as we’re here already.”

“Yeah,” said Stacy. “I’ll get right on it.” She pulled her car up to the pump across from the one the van was parked in front of.

“Sorry, fellers,” said Randy. “I weren’t expectin’ to go on no road trip today.”

“It’s okay,” said Tim. “Let’s just try to hurry it up, huh?”

Stacy’s car was already two thirds full, so her gas was already paid for by the time Randy’s pump shut off.

Randy swiped his credit card. Nothing happened. He swiped it again. A red message lit up. Julian couldn’t read it from where he was, but he had a pretty good idea of what it said.

Randy frowned at Tim. “It says I’ve got to go see the cashier.”

Tim sighed. “Fine. Chaz, you go with him. Make it snappy!”

Julian leaned forward between the two front seats, where Tim was checking Mordred’s progress. “Where is he?”

“Shit,” said Tim. “He’s gone through Mobile. He’s northbound on I-65.”

Five minutes later, Randy and Chaz returned.

“Finally,” said Tim. “Let’s get moving!”

“There was a problem with my card,” Randy said sheepishly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It’s a check card,” Randy explained. “I must have drained out most of my account at Arby’s.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“You can use my card, sweetie,” said Stacy. She reached her arm across Tim, handing her credit card to Randy. Her right breast was right in Tim’s face. He placed the tablet strategically over his crotch.

Randy humbly accepted the card. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“We can settle up debts when this is all finished,” said Tim. “Mordred’s getting further away as we speak!”

Randy and Chaz hurried back to the convenience store attached to the gas station.

Tim breathed slow, deliberate breaths, as if to try to calm himself down. “We can still catch up to him,” he said. It was unclear as to whether he was addressing anyone else in the car, or just talking to himself. “He doesn’t have that big a lead on us, and we’ve got a full tank of gas. We just can’t afford any more delays.”

Randy and Chaz approached the car again.

“Um…” said Randy. “There’s just one more little snag.”

“BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” said Tim. “How fucking hard can this be!”

“The lady at the register said I needed a photo I.D., on account of this card havin’ a different name than the one I showed her before.”

Tim’s little fists were shaking in front of his face.

“I’ll take care of it,” said Stacy. She got out of the car and escorted Randy back to the shop.

Someone, or something, banged on the back doors of the van from the inside.

“What is it now?” said Tim. He got out of the car and walked over to the van. “What?”

“That Arby’s went right through me,” said Cooper. “I gotta take a shit.”

“Absolutely not,” said Tim. “We’re in a public place in broad daylight.”

“Come on, man,” pleaded Cooper. “I’ll put a tarp over my head.”

“And you think that’s going to make you look less conspicuous?”

“Please, Tim!” cried Dave. “You don’t have to ride with him.”

“No fucking way!” shouted Tim. A passing elderly couple looked at him. “What?”

An explosion of flatulence erupted from within the van. Tim lowered his head.

“Merciful gods!” cried Professor Goosewaddle.

“Sweet baby Jesus!” cried Dennis.

“Funyuns!” cried Dave. There followed a loud retching noise, and a splatter of liquid on liquid.

The old couple’s eyes widened, and they hurried into the shop faster than they’d probably moved in three decades.

“Um…” said Cooper. “The situation has been resolved.”

“All set!” said Randy as he, Chaz, and Stacy emerged from the convenience store. He held up a plastic shopping bag. “Stacy even bought y’all some Slim Jims.”

Tim’s eyes widened. He looked at Randy, then at the van, then at Randy again. “No!”

Randy paused, looking bewilderedly at Tim. “What’s wrong?”

Tim jumped up and grabbed the shopping bag out of Randy’s hand. “They’re for me,” he said. “I want all the Slim Jims.”

“That’s a little selfish, don’t you think?”

“Fuck you. Drive the van.”

Randy’s lower lip quivered, but he walked around to the driver’s side and got into the van. “It wouldn’t hurt you none to be a little more polite.” He sniffed the air, and his face squished all together. “Y’all smell somethin’?”

“Let’s go!” said Tim, banging his hand against the car door.

Without a word, Stacy put the car into gear and pulled out of the gas station. She accelerated back onto the interstate. She looked pissed.

Tim held up one of his recently acquired beef jerky snacks. “You want a Slim Jim?”

Stacy ripped the Slim Jim out of Tim’s hand and whacked him over the head with it. “What –”
whack
“the hell –”
whack
“is wrong with you?”
whack whack whack.

“Ow! I’m sorry! Knock it off!”

“You don’t –”
whack
“treat people –”
whack
“like that!” She chucked the Slim Jim down into Tim’s foot well.

“I’d like a Slim Jim,” said Julian.

Tim tossed the whole bag into the back seat. “Knock yourself out. I hate these things.”

Stacy let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. “You are a piece of work, my friend. A
piece of work
.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim repeated. “I had to keep him from opening the van doors.”

“And why’s that?”

Julian bit off a large chunk of salty, beefy deliciousness. It had been ages since he’d had one of these.

“You’re probably better off not knowing,” said Tim.

“I’ve got to side with Tim on this one,” said Julian. “Once you know, it’s something you’ll wish you could un-know.”

They continued eastward in relative silence until they hit Mobile. From there, they traveled up I-65. Tim took the risk of letting Stacy drive five miles per hour over the speed limit. Periodically checking Mordred’s progress, he soon discovered that they were slowly but surely closing the gap between them and him. Wherever Mordred was going, he wasn’t in any great hurry.

They hoped Mordred might stop in Montgomery, but the red dot moved right past it. They were about halfway between Montgomery and Birmingham when Tim shrieked, “It stopped!”

“Where?” asked Julian, leaning forward between the seats to see the tablet.

Tim zoomed in on the location. “He’s at a rest area, about fifteen minutes from here. He must have to go to the bathroom.”

Julian’s heart quickened. “If it’s a number two, we might be able catch him!”

Stacy held out an open palm to Tim. He high-fived her. She smiled, and the atmosphere in the car transformed from silent tension to giddy anticipation.

Julian stuck his arm out the window and made a thumbs-up gesture. Randy honked the horn in response. Ten minutes later, both vehicles pulled into the rest area, and the red dot still hadn’t moved.

It wasn’t a large rest area. Pretty much just a public toilet and some vending machines. Big rigs and buses were parked on one side of the parking lot, and cars were parked on the other side. At first glance, there didn’t appear to be any silver hatchbacks with broken rear windshields.

Tim hopped out of the car. “Where the hell is he?” he asked, frantically scanning the parking lot. He held up the tablet. “The red dot and the blue dot are right on top of each other!”

“He’s got to be around here somewhere,” said Julian.

Randy opened the van doors. “Jesus Christmas!” he cried as brown liquid flowed down the bumper and splattered down into a puddle on the pavement.

Dennis and Professor Goosewaddle waved their hands toward their noses, as if trying to forcibly shove fresh air inside. Dave just sat there, his face pale and haunted, like he’d given up on life.

“Oh my god,” said Stacy, turning away from the van. “You were right. I did
not
want to know
this
.”

“Tim,” said Julian. “Call my phone.”

Tim pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Battery’s dead.”

“Shit,” said Julian. “Stacy, do you have any change?”

“Yeah, why?”

He reached inside the car and took a ballpoint pen out of the cup holder. “Give me your hand.” She did so, and he wrote his phone number on it. “Go find a pay phone and call this number.”

“Hurry up!” said Tim. She gave him a warning look. “Please?”

Stacy ran toward the main building.

“You ain’t gonna hear a cell phone over all this noise,” said Dennis.

Dennis had a point. Cars and trucks continuously thundered by on the interstate, while several of the big rigs and buses sat parked with their engines still running. Picking out a measly little cell phone ringtone would be a strain on the greatest of human ears. But maybe not so much for elf ears. Now was not the time for caution. He removed his Papa Joes cap and Katherine’s headband to free his long ears.

“Damn, son!” said Dennis. “Ain’t they got plastic surgeons in China?”

“I’m not fucking Chinese!” said Julian. “I’m an elf. Now shut the hell up for a second!”

Julian closed his eyes and concentrated on listening. One minute passed. Then another.

“Come on, Stacy,” Tim muttered. “Hurry it up.”

And there it was. The Star Wars Imperial March. Julian opened his eyes.

“There!” he shouted, pointing at a Greyhound bus. “He’s on the bus!”

“Which bus?” asked Tim.

“The one that’s pulling out!”

“It’s now or never!” cried Tim. “Cooper! Stop that bus!”

Cooper jumped out of the van and sprinted toward the bus. Everyone else ran after him.

The bus driver slammed on the brakes just short of flattening Cooper.

The ringtone grew stronger as Julian ran nearer, as if Darth Vader himself was about to emerge from the bus.

Cooper roared, and passengers at the front of the bus started screaming. Tim banged his fist on the bus door, but the driver refused to open it.

That didn’t matter. The sound wasn’t coming from the
inside
of the bus. A wave of panic spread from the front of the bus to the rear. Everyone inside was screaming, which briefly drowned out the phone’s ring. Julian slowed his steps, caught it again, and followed the faint sound to the rear of the bus until he was standing in a cloud of exhaust. He coughed and choked on fumes as he felt under the rear bumper. Finally, he found what he was looking for. His phone was duct taped to the bumper. His eyes stung as he ripped his phone free from the tape. Exiting the cloud of bus fumes, he greedily breathed in fresh air.