The Junkie Quatrain (6 page)

‘Nothing here, either,’ said Andi from the opposite doorway.

Barney frowned and scratched his beard. ‘It’s got to be here. Check all the closets and drawers for false backs or hidden panels or something.’

Chit wandered into the office on the right. Sounds of shuffling and tapping crept out of each room. Monica let her hands settle on her hips. ‘Didn’t sound like this place was supposed to be that hidden once we were inside.’

‘No,’ said Barney, ‘I didn’t think so, either.’

‘Didn’t Bradbury say it would all be clearly marked and easy to find?’

‘Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the first time he hasn’t been completely straight with us.’

‘Fuck him, that’s what I say,’ said Charlie. ‘We don’t need that jackass.’

‘No we don’t,’ said Barney. ‘But we need that fortress-sanctuary they’ve turned his building into.’

‘Whatever.’

A disappointed mutter echoed out of the right-hand office, followed by the thump of a gloved fist on a wooden panel. ‘Nothing,’ said Derek.

Barney looked at Charlie again. ‘Are you sure we’re in the right place?’

‘Yes,’ snapped the smaller man. He pulled a battered messenger bag around his hips. He flipped it open, shoved a rubber-band-bound Thomas Guide out of the way, and slid out a clean manila envelope. He thumbed through the contents and removed a crisp sheet of paper covered with tight writing. ‘Instructions and directions,’ he stated, ‘from the hand of our lord and master himself.’ He ran his finger along the page, then stopped to squint at something. His eyes went wide and his lips opened up.

‘You fuckwit,’ sighed Monica.

‘Hey,’ snapped Charlie, ‘his threes and his fives look a lot alike. It’s not my fault.’

‘Where are we supposed to be?’ asked Barney.

‘It’s just a little mistake,’ said Charlie. ‘We’re in the right building and all that, just the wrong office. We want to be in
three
-three-one. Two floors down.’

‘Okay, everybody,’ said their boss, raising his voice. ‘Charlie screwed up again. We want to be—’

‘Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,’ said Derek in the right-hand office. Jay let out a low whistle.

Barney went to look. Monica and Charlie were right behind him. Monica let out a whistle that matched Jay’s.

The wall across from the executive desk had slid away like the side door on a van. Behind it was a well-lit closet dominated by matching metal racks. The bottom third of each one was a set of drawers.

The top two-thirds were weapons.

Matching rifles were lined up in quartets along the top of both racks. There were at least three different types. Below them was a double-row of pistols. The handguns sat in groups of two and three, grips out. A pair of gleaming shotguns sat across from them, with ammunition drums the size of softballs.

‘Boss,’ said Derek. He’d found the matching panel on the other side of the office. Hidden behind it was a long-barreled rifle with a huge scope. A collection of knives and blades were laid out on a shelf below it.

‘Holy fuck,’ whispered Charlie. ‘We’ve died and gone to the Matrix.’

Chit and Jay dashed over to the other office. Now that they knew where to look for the release, they found even more hidden closets. ‘Body armor,’ called Chit. ‘Holsters. Belts.’

‘And food,’ shouted Jay. ‘There’s a ton of food here.’

Most of them scampered over to the other office. Monica reached up and pulled one of the rifles off the rack. It was a strange, futuristic thing with the trigger in the front, a snub barrel, and a see-through magazine along the top. ‘What is all this stuff?’

‘That’s a P90 you’re holding,’ said Barney. He pointed at some of the other rifles. ‘Those are M4 carbines. That’s a German G36.’

‘Eight years in the Army finally paying off?’

‘Yeah, cause I’ve been doing nothing with it the past couple months,’ he said. He picked up one of the shotguns. ‘AA-12. Automatic assault shotgun. The one with the long barrel over there’s some kind of sniper rifle.’

‘Jesus,’ Monica said. ‘What’s it all doing here?’

Barney shook his head. ‘Some gun nut executive,’ he said. ‘We’re looking for a hospital, not an armory.’

She picked up a square-topped machete with a well-worn wooden handle. ‘Maybe it’s part of the same set up? That’s the hospital, here’s the guns, food’s over there?’

Barney shook his head again. ‘There isn’t enough here for a squad of guys. It’s just random stuff someone collected and put in a hidden closet to impress chicks.’

‘Consider me impressed,’ Monica said. She loosened the strap on the P90 and slung it over her shoulder. ‘Think I might keep this one.’

‘Might as well. This is top of the line stuff and it’s all going to waste here.’

Derek came back in with an empty holster strapped to his thigh. ‘Give me one of those pistols,’ he said. ‘Time for a serious upgrade, y’know?’

Jay followed behind him. The big man had a foil pouch and was shoveling food into his mouth with his fingers. ‘Chicken and rice,’ he said. ‘It’s good.’

‘Okay, everybody listen up,’ said Barney. ‘Charlie didn’t screw up as bad as we thought. We lucked out, but we don’t have time to waste, so it’s going to be like Christmas Eve.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ asked Chit.

‘Everybody can take two things. That’s it. We know this place is here, we’ll come back once we get Bradbury his supplies. But for now we’ve got a schedule to keep and we can’t get bogged down with this stuff.’

‘What about food?’ said Jay. ‘Does food count as one thing or two?’

‘If you want to grab some food and shove it in your pack, fine. But don’t go crazy with the weapons trying to turn yourself into some kind of badass. Especially you, Derek.’

They stuffed random pistols into holsters they’d grabbed from the other room and hefted rifles into the air. Barney hung the AA-12 on his shoulder and grabbed an oversized pistol he was pretty sure was special forces issue. Monica strapped the machete to her thigh in a nylon sheath. Jay and Charlie filled their backpacks with the military-issue rations they’d found.

Five minutes later the outsiders moved out and headed down to the floor below, all praising their good luck. Chit smashed the card reader on the third floor landing, twisted some wires, and the door opened with a clunk of released magnets.

Suite 331 was what they’d expected. It was a quartet of white rooms that looked like it belonged in a hospital. Or maybe a sci-fi movie. There was an operating table, drawers filled with stainless steel equipment, and a collection of machines with electrodes and paddles and coiled cables.

Sarah and Derek were with Charlie. The round-faced man read items from his list one by one. He had a knack for pronouncing the long chemical names, or at least getting close enough that anyone else would know the name when they saw it. The extensive directions explained where each item should be, what it looked like, and how it was packaged. Sarah searched for it on the shelves. Derek followed her around with the packs as she loaded them up with small cardboard boxes, blister packs, and plastic bottles.

It took half an hour to fill all three bags, just like Bradbury said it would. He’d also been keen on them leaving everything else, so Monica swatted Jay’s hand when he tried to pocket a bottle of Vicodin. He knotted his eyebrows at her, but put the bottle back on the shelf.

They headed back down to the lobby where some of the outsiders stood guard. Epi’s head was pressed against the glass, his bright mohawk splayed out like an old brush. ‘Back up the hill,’ he said. ‘People.’

Barney frowned. ‘Another team?’

‘There’s only two of them.’

‘You sure?’

Epi shrugged.

‘Junkies?’

‘Don’t think so. They seem pretty steady.’

They slipped out through the hole they’d broken in the door. Barney signaled for Derek and Mel to circle around behind the women. Cars lined the street, so they could keep low and stay out of sight. Another gesture sent Charlie scuttling between vehicles. Epi and Chit stayed with the cargo packs.

The strangers were both women. One was on the chubby side, wearing clothes that were clean and bright. The other one was dark-haired, lean under her clothes, and looked kind of frayed at the edges. The lean one was wearing a pistol on her hip and carried a baseball bat with a weight on the end. She made a point of staying behind the heavy one, Barney noticed. The sounds of their voices finally became words.

‘...people’d think that’s kind of awesome,’ said the heavy one.

‘Yeah,’ muttered the other. ‘It’s really made my life awesome.’

As soon as they passed him, Charlie slipped onto the hood of a car. He could be damned quiet when he put his mind to it. The little man set his new rifle casually across his legs and cleared his throat. ‘Hello, ladies,’ he said.

They twisted around. The ragged one brought her bat up one-handed. Charlie smiled and waved at them.

Barney gave Sarah a look and she returned a firm nod. He gestured Derek and Mel into position. Monica moved in from the other side.

The woman made a show of popping the strap on her holster and Monica stepped out from behind a van. ‘Don’t try anything rash,’ she said. She held up the P90 with one hand. It fit snug against her arm.

The lean woman stepped forward and settled her hand on the butt of her pistol. She glared at Monica, but didn’t draw. The rest of the outsiders made a point of not raising their own weapons.

Barney took a moment before speaking to reach up and scratch his beard. ‘Afternoon,’ he said. ‘What brings you out here?’

‘
Just passing through.’ She was thirty, tops, but the lean woman’s voice was dry. They’d all heard a few voices like that lately. People who weren’t used to talking, or were out of practice.

These two women hadn’t been together long. Which meant they probably weren’t another team. But Barney needed to be sure. If Bradbury was playing them, his price just went way up.

He gave her a slow nod. ‘Passing through to where?’

She sized him up. Her hand was still on her pistol. ‘Just passing through,’ she repeated.

Barney studied the ragged woman. ‘Did Bradbury hire you?’

‘Who?’

‘You’re not working for Bradbury?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She gave a faint shake of her head.

She was just a bit too professional.

Derek stepped forward and wrapped his arm around the heavy woman’s throat. His pistol came up level with her head, an implied threat. He took a few steps to the left and dragged his hostage with him.

‘Hey,’ said the ragged woman. ‘Don’t scare her. She’s—’

The heavy woman screamed at Derek. It was a raw howl of anger. He flinched back. They all did, even her friend. After months of silence, noise was almost offensive to them. Derek smacked her. The shock of it seemed to knock some sense into her and she shut up. The last of her scream bounced off the office building, echoed out over the car dealership, and faded away. ‘Hell,’ he said. ‘She’s infected. Late stages.’

‘That settles that,’ said Monica. ‘No one’s going to hire an almost-junkie.’

Just as Barney thought they might have somehow beaten the odds, a cry came from the east. It repeated and became random sounds and syllables. A few yells bounced down out of the hills behind the building. More shouts came from the freeway behind the car lot.

Maybe a quarter-mile down the road, something loped out into the open. It could’ve been a thin woman or a malnourished man. It was too far away to be sure. The figure hollered at them, took a few shaky steps, and broke into a run.

‘Ahhh, shit,’ said Monica.

It had barely started running when a bigger form, definitely a man, came sprinting out from one side of the road. A beat later a handful of them charged out of a fast food parking lot, all hunched over to run like dogs.

‘Junkies,’ said Epi. ‘We got junkies.’ He ran back and pulled his bicycle out from under a van. Roger and Chit were dragging out theirs as well.

Barney locked eyes with Monica and nodded. There was a quick telephone game of glances between the outsiders and then they ran for their stashed bikes. He looked at the two women. The screamer looked like she was in shock.

‘Sorry about this,’ Barney said. He looked past them to the approaching junkies. They were maybe two blocks away. Three more had joined the pack. There were too many to risk using their new weapons and calling in even more. ‘It was just business. Nothing personal.’

The lean woman glared at him. ‘You’re leaving us here?’

‘Hey,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry, but it wasn’t my people that started screaming.’

‘Barney, come on,’ shouted Monica. She was holding his bike up, waiting for him. Half the outsiders had already started pedaling.

He ran to join them and leaped onto his bike. Heading east on Cahuenga Pass, away from the charging junkies, meant they were headed uphill. They could go faster than the junkies, but not for as long.

He risked a glance over his shoulder. The ragged woman was dragging her friend toward the office building. The junkies had closed the distance to just a few dozen yards, and the pack had grown by three or four more. They always came out of nowhere. Half of them were going after the women, the rest were coming after the outsiders. Five or six, at least. He didn’t take the time to count.