Rise and Walk (4 page)

“What did the Sheriff want?” Veronica asked. Nikki shrugged her shoulders and made an unknowing expression.

Nikki returned to her work, leaving Veronica to watch Andy. Her rough life had left Veronica somewhat empathic. She had learned to trust her feelings. Right now, her feelings were telling her that Andy might need a kind ear. It was in her nature to be sympathetic. Helping others was the best way that Veronica could think of to honor her father.

Andy hung up the phone perturbed. He approached the girls on the customer side of the counter.

“Girls, over here for a second. I just talked to the Sheriff. Looks like a bunch of kids from the JC were on a field trip up north of here. They haven’t reported back, so get the word out, if anyone sees any lost, hungry kids, call the Sheriff or the Ranger station. We got some worried parents back in town.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Nikki noticed a group of paintball competitors enter the registration area in front of the store.

“Sure thing Boss,” she said as she motioned towards the contestants. Andy turned his attention to the glass doors and waved a greeting to the men. Veronica had to ask,

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” he hesitated, “It’s just hard to make all the decisions.”

“What did that man want?”

“He didn’t come right out and say it, but I think he was threatening not to sponsor us next year unless his team wins,” Andy confessed.

“Oh,” Veronica said studying his demeanor.

“I ‘m not goin’ along with anything dishonest. If I lose the sponsor, I’ll make it work without them,” Andy sighed.

“You’re doing great, we’re pulling in good money,” she reassured and touched his wrist.

“Yeah, thanks,” Andy said as he straightened himself to leave.

Nikki, who was eavesdropping on their conversation while pretending to stock the shelves, joined Veronica.

“Are you into Andy?” she whispered to Veronica.

“No, I’m just worried about him. He seems upset today.”

Veronica was taken aback by the suggestion. She had no attraction to Andy, rather a general human compassion. He was nowhere near her type. She wasn’t even sure what her type was anymore. It had been a long time since she was close to anyone; not since before her father had taken ill. Veronica decided to hide her discomfort and turn the suggestion around with a dash of humor.

“Why, would I be getting in your way?” she teased the girl. Nikki rolled her eyes and answered sarcastically,

“Oh yeah, you know I want to climb that mountain.” The two girls shared a laugh. Nikki continued,

“No, I don’t think I’m gonna find my Prince Charming in this old town.”

“Come on,” Veronica countered, “there are some attractive guys here.”

“Yeah, guys who like to play Army.”

Veronica shuttered at the mention of the word Army.

“No, my father was a surgeon in the Army. I grew up on bases all over the world. Army guys are far worse than this,” Veronica said.

“Well, I’ve lived here my whole life and I ‘m sick to death of these idiots.”

Veronica’s attention fell towards Jack who was some distance away outside talking to a reporter from Warpaint Magazine.

“Who’s that?” she asked nodding towards Jack.

“Some hot shots from the bay area, Berkeley or somewhere like that. They won the amateur championship for California last year,” replied Nikki unimpressed.

The man was attractive, eye-catching and somehow interesting to Veronica. Maybe he was her type, but the mentioning of the bay area caused her to relive old memories, dispelling her attraction.

“I used to live in San Francisco,” Veronica said in a quiet tone.

Nikki looked at Veronica with interest.

“I was thinking of transferring to SF State.”

“I’ll never go back to that hellhole.” Veronica’s demeanor soured as she turned to restock a candy display.

FIVE

Within the confines of his parent’s station wagon, nine year old Elliott awoke covered in sweat. His mother had allowed him to sleep in the back of the station wagon on his own but he had grown fearful in the night. Elliott had reassured his mother that he was old enough to sleep alone. When the night started to play on his fears, he resisted the temptation to return to his parent’s tent. Rolling the windows up kept out the creepy uncertain sounds of nature. The comfort provided by his nighttime security precautions worked fine until the sun rose. Elliot awoke within a stifling oven of glass and steel. He wriggled free of his sleeping bag and rotated his body so that his head faced the rear of the wagon. In a heat induced delirium, Elliot wormed his sleep weakened arm towards the door handle. Opening the hatch flooded the vehicle with sweet, cool relief. His hungry lungs drew in the fresh morning air. Elliott kicked his pillow forward and snatched it up with his free hand. He brought the pillow to the very edge of the station wagon and laid his head down right above the bumper.

Elliot was a kid prone to strange positions. He liked to sit upside down on the couch and watch television. His mom would tell him not to, that the blood was rushing to his head. When she would nap while he watched the Power Rangers, he would rotate in his father’s recliner and watch T.V. with his head hanging off the seat. He didn’t see why it should be harmful. He enjoyed the bizarre perspective granted by watching a show while inverted. He enjoyed not getting caught as well.

Elliott gazed with sleet filled eyes to his right. With his head half out the open door he could see the lake. A boat motor started in the distance. People began to awake and go about their day in the campground. He could hear his parents starting to move around in their tent.
Good
, he thought. It was Sunday morning; that meant a big breakfast with eggs, bacon and waffles. His mother had promised to let him cook the bacon as long as he was careful. He had gotten to sleep in the car last night and now bacon. The responsibility excited the chipper nine year old. He turned his head to look at the ground. Being just a foot above the soft earth gave him a unique vista. He noticed pebbles of various sizes, a few twigs and the ridges of a half buried bottle cap. A pair of small bare feet entered his view. His mother’s feet. He turned over and faced upward to greet his mother with a warm smile. The rising sun was directly behind her shuffling form causing her to appear only as a shadow. She was moving strangely. He rubbed at his eyes trying to focus.

“Mom, is it time for breakfast?”

Young Elliot Dahlgren was very lucky that he couldn’t see her. If the angle was different or the sun obscured by clouds, he would have been driven over the edge of madness by her visage.

She had passed away from shock that stopped her heart yet her face was torn almost completely away. Her husband dined on her beautiful features the way a glutton might consume fried chicken, only the delicious skin. Her passing was quick though her appearance didn’t suggest so. The reanimated body of David Dahlgren had lost interest in her cooling flesh. His decaying mind drew him out of the tent to seek fresher fare. When she had risen she found herself alone. What was left of her still retained muscles connecting her mandible to her skull. Instinctively, she began to make chewing motions. Her nose was missing and along with it, her sense of smell. She left the tent with the purpose to feed.

Her lidless eyes now scanned her son. He squinted against the powerful sunlight, unable to see her condition. She drew closer, salivating dark green bile. If she could have smelled the boy, she would have found his scent irresistible, however some living characteristic he had still held her interest. All she knew was that she was hungry.

“Mom?” Elliot questioned with a slight tremble in his voice.

She fell to her knees before the rear of the vehicle with a disgusting starved moan. Elliott struggled against her claws and horrid teeth. His small cries muffled by her attack. He fought with the strength of a boy but not for very long. He died upside down, his mother feeding from the soft tissue that comprised his neck. Blood rushed to his head and then splashed on the ground.

SIX

Mason strode with confidence into the paintball registration area just in front of the general store. Flanked on his right by Tony and followed by three other men in similar paramilitary gear and camouflage. These were, Gabe Duffy, Travis Jason and Billy Tate. The three men were new to the squad. The usual gang couldn’t make it to the match so Mason improvised. This weekend, he had called up some new talent to mix things up on his team. They were called Team Blackjack; the name of any team lead by Jack Mason.

Gabe Duffy stood an inch taller than Jack but a little on the thin side. He had the slight athletic build of someone who might have played water polo or volleyball in school. Gabe wore a black baseball cap backwards to control his light brown hair. His hair wasn’t too long but during stressful situations it would take on a curl. He didn’t know if it was in reaction to the humidity of his own sweat or some strange sort of scalp goose-bumps. He just knew that he disliked it. Gabe had met Tony and Jack on the amateur paintball circuit, each time losing to Team Blackjack. Gabe started up his team, the Healdsburg Hitmen, with guys from his work. Travis and Billy were bartenders from La Visage, the restaurant where he was a Chef. It had taken some doing to get the time off but Gabe was the kind of chef talent that kept customers coming back. His employer balked at the idea of losing three of his staff yet he did want to keep Gabe happy. Gabe had hoped to work with Mason on the same side to learn about his strategy from within. Maybe they could become permanent members of Blackjack and win some first place trophies. Gabe’s team was good but Mason’s was pro material.

Travis Jason stopped to tie his black sneakers. His friend and roommate, Billy Tate stopped as well. They were the best of friends but couldn’t appear more different. Travis was five foot eight with a very fair complexion. His light blonde hair appeared almost white. His best friend Billy teased Travis that he was melanin deficient. Billy was a half foot taller than his friend. He was a black man who had grown up in the same neighborhood as Travis since kindergarten. His hair was cropped very close and he had a fair amount of muscle, much more than Travis. Billy, who was more outgoing and jovial when meeting new people, would introduce Travis as his “albino midget brother”. Though they looked very different; Travis and Billy were inseparable.

Andy stood next to a booth that contained an array of measuring equipment and a large CO2 tank. A man in a referee uniform was filling Tony’s air canister that powered his paint rifle. Tony accepted the tank and attached the propellant to the rear of his weapon then re-attached his butt stock. He handed the reassembled weapon back to the referee. Paint guns are just that; they are guns. They fire balls of cellulose covered paint, driven by terrific amounts of compressed air. At their lowest setting a paintball hit is sure to leave a deep bruise on the skin. An internal valve regulates the amount of pressure that is delivered with every pull of the trigger. Each field has limits on their player’s gun pressure. Andy’s field used a different system to ensure compliance. After verifying the settings were within limits, the referee placed a thin strip of foil tape across the barrel where it met the body of the weapon. If someone were to adjust their pressure on the field, the tape would tear. Should a referee see a gun with damaged verification tape, the player would be immediately disqualified. Finished, the referee returned the weapon to Tony. He switched on the safety and approached Andy.

“Blackjack, over here,” Andy called out. He spoke into a hand radio as the boys approached.

“Five Minutes, they’re on the field? … Good,” he finished with the radio and spoke to the men.

“All right, championship match lasts ninety minutes. The team with the most members after that wins. Your opponents have already taken the field so you will be team blue today.”

Andy distributed five small strips of blue cloth. As the contestants strapped on their arm bands, Andy took notice of the combat knife strapped to Mason’s gear harness. He pointed his hand radio at the knife.

“What the hell is that?” he accused with the voice of an angry parent.

Mason was taken aback by the big man’s tone. What he had seen of Andy over the past two days he had liked. He seemed like a cool guy trying to start up a good field. If Mason had thought Andy was an ass he would have barked back and returned aggression in kind. But this wasn’t the case. Jack quickly surmised that Andy’s anger was misplaced and decided to keep the peace.

“My knife,” he answered calmly, “Just a tool to clear foliage for camouflage in the field.”

“You can’t take those things out on the field,” Andy said relaxing,

“We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt. The girl inside will hold it for you.” Andy pointed his hand radio towards the door of the store. “Get your guns verified and let’s do this.”

While Tony and Mason quickly unfastened their combat knives from their modular harnesses Gabe gave them a look.

“You guys are Hard-Core,” he said with mock praise.

Veronica finished labeling a box of supplies with a large red marker. She was on her knees behind the counter sliding the heavy box under the cash register. Retrieving yet another box she opened it to see what was inside. She labeled each box according to their contents. Nikki watched her curiously. She had worked with Veronica every weekend this summer. She thought Veronica was nice. She spoke differently than most people in Sierra Valley. Veronica didn’t have an accent, like she was from another part of the country, but she used words differently, more formal and clear. Nikki wondered how old she was. She didn’t think Veronica would mind being asked about her age yet she felt that it would be somehow rude to inquire. She looked young and healthy, yet seemed older. Nikki thought it strange that Veronica took it upon herself to label the inventory. Andy didn’t ask her to do it. If it was Veronica’s store, then that might make sense.
Why volunteer for something when you could just kick back and get paid for watching the counter?
Nikki helped herself to a pack of gum from the candy display. She had been chewing Andy’s gum all summer. She would have paid for the gum if someone had mentioned it, but no one ever did.
Perks of the job
, thought Nikki and placed a piece in her mouth.