Beast Machine (44 page)

San Antonio was fading in
the distance. Despite not being a metropolitan giant, the city
could still be spotted behind them for some time. It was a bright
and lively place surrounded by nothing but highways and
dirt.

Once the city finally
disappeared, Zuber turned his head to look at the others around the
cabin. None of the men were talking amongst each other, just
looking forward with a blank stare or glaring out the window. Zuber
slowly touched his side. “Good, it’s still there,” he
thought.

The flight was a short one,
especially in comparison to the journey from Dallas to San Antonio
by car. A mere forty minutes as the crow flies. Strangely, none of
the men had needed to use a restroom the entire day. It was as if
none of the men had anuses or penises.

“
This is the spot, sir,”
radioed Stanzo. “Where should I land?”

“
Looks like there’s some
space next to the trees, just pop’er down there,” replied Jimmy
Erdol, peering out the window.

“
Roger that,
sir.”

Stanzo sat down the
Relentless helicopter where his boss commanded him to, right next
to the trees.

“
Helluva job, Stanzo!” said
Jimmy Erdol. “Shut her off and come join us.”

“
Sir?” said
Stanzo.

“
Yeah, turn this thing off
and join us. No one else is out here, and I highly doubt anyone
that would be out
here
would know how to fly this pricey piece of equipment. Plus, I
don’t want you burning anymore damn fuel. It’s
expensive!”

“
Roger that, sir. Turning
the Relentless off.”

“
Should he be joining us?”
asked Bjornssen. “Does the white haired man know he’s
coming?”

“
It’ll be fine,” said Jimmy
Erdol. “One more body isn’t going to ruin anyone’s
night.”

“
Whatever you say, Jimmy,”
replied Bjornssen. “Whatever you say…”

Once the helicopter had
completely stopped, the doors slid open automatically. All the men
hopped out, some more gingerly than others. Stanzo opened his pilot
side door and climbed down.

“
Where is this guy?” asked
Zuber.

“
He said he’ll meet us when
we arrive, have patience damn it,” said Jimmy Erdol. Jimmy Erdol
looked around. Trees to the south and nothingness to the north. The
sun still gave them enough light to inspect their surroundings, but
it would be closing for the night soon.

“
Good evening, gentlemen!”
rang out a voice from the forest. Out walked Bob, wearing a beige
turtleneck and dark blue jeans. He startled a few of the men. Jimmy
Erdol was not one of those men. “It’s a pleasure to see you all,
please follow me to my home.”

“
Your home is in the
woods?” asked Bjornssen. “How do we know you’re not gonna try to
turn this into a
Deliverance
situation?”

“
Shut the fuck up,” Jimmy
Erdol said to Bjornssen. He then shoved Bjornssen.

Bob laughed, “There’s not
enough water flowing in these woods to make it like
Deliverance
, but I can try
to sort something out if you’d like.” Bjornssen laughed nervously.
“Come now.” He turned and walked into the woods.

All the men followed. Zuber
asked, “So what do you want us to call you?”

“
Bob,” replied Bob. “Just
call me Bob.”

Jimmy Erdol smiled and then
gave a haughty smirk to the other men.
This
was their guy. Bob was going to
set everything straight in Arkansas, despite Jimmy Erdol not
knowing how Bob would do it. Jimmy Erdol just
knew
Bob would come through for
them.

“
Not much further; watch
your step,” said Bob. “There’s burrs that’ll catch onto your pants
and shirts. Not too painful but a nuisance. Watch out for any snake
holes too.”

“
I know something about
nuisances, Bob,” said Jimmy Erdol brushing off some matter on his
shoulder. “These guys are a bunch of Nancy boys. Not like us,
though, Bob! We’re real men. Nothing would scare us!”

“
Is that right?” laughed
Bob.

“
Damn straight, friend!”
replied Jimmy Erdol. His smirk grew bigger the further they went
into the forest that transitioned from trees to meek shrubs,
bushes, and cactuses. The men behind him struggled to walk through
the woods with their dapper suits and Italian leather shoes as the
terrain transitioned from soft soil to dirt to rocky.

“
It’s right up here,” said
Bob. The group came to the top of a short hill. All the men, except
Bob and Jimmy Erdol, were sweating profusely. Ties were being used
as sweat collectors and small rocks were being removed from fancy
shoes. “I guess I should say: it’s right
down
here.”

Jimmy Erdol and his gang
looked down the hill. There was a small opening carved into an
enormous wall of rock that appeared to be a dead end caused by a
plateau at a higher elevation. The opening was roughly a few
hundred feet down the hill. A brown door inside the small opening
became visible the closer the group got to it. Bob began to walk
down the slight decline towards the brown door inside the small
opening. Jimmy Erdol followed suit.

“
Is this actually the
place,” asked Lester Pigeon, “or are we going to have to fucking
walk more once inside. My feet are killing me.”

“
I told you,” replied Bob,
“this is it.” He continued to walk with Jimmy Erdol close behind
him.

Jimmy Erdol turned toward
the other men and motioned for them to come along. He mouthed,
“Come on!” to the men.

After sighing, pouting, and
clearing out the tiny rocks from their shoes, the rest of the men
begrudgingly traversed down the slight decline. Bob and Jimmy Erdol
were waiting patiently, and silently, next to the brown door. A few
men walked slowly down the decline, as others moved at a snail’s
pace by sliding their feet all the way down. Jimmy Erdol covered
his face in embarrassment until all the men arrived at the bottom.
Bob stood there smiling.

“
Welcome to my humble
abode, gentlemen,” said Bob. “I have dinner prepared. I hope you
all like lamb, potatoes and red wine.” He opened the brown door and
a rush of smells shot out toward the men. Bob entered his cave home
and the men followed quickly behind. “I can tell that you’re all
starving.”

“
I haven’t eaten since this
morning,” said Pigeon.

“
I haven’t eaten since
yesterday,” said Bjornssen.

“
I ate on the plane, but
I’m still hungry,” said Zuber.

The other men commented on
their appetites as they followed Bob down the opening hallway that
was as wide as a pickup truck. There were no works of art, no
pictures to commemorate memories, no televisions, no hunting
trophies on the walls – nothing but bright lanterns attached to the
stone gray wall every six or seven feet.

After walking around
hundred or so feet down the bleak hallway, the men arrived in the
dining room of Bob’s home. A mahogany dining room table with
bizarre inscriptions around the edges was in the middle of the
large, square room. The inscriptions were faint and the other men
paid no mind to them. The rectangular table sat atop a vivid blue
and red rug, which was bisected by a gold streak. In the middle of
the gold streak rug was a large purple circle that contained golden
letters: ‘F’ and ‘S’. Thick wooden picture frames hung tightly on
the stone walls. Each had a different mountain chain engraved into
the frame. The Andes Mountain frame was the smallest, while the
Appalachian Mountain frame was the dullest. Each had a different
charm to it and made out of wood found on that specific mountain
range. None held a picture inside, rather, mirrors.

“
This is incredible, Bob,”
said Jimmy Erdol in sheer amazement. “I was expecting a rundown
shack with no windows, some dead animals lying around, and an
outhouse. This is
much
better!” He laughed. Bob smiled. “Hell, my wife would be
jealous of this shit! She loves all that interior design nonsense.
Can’t get her to stop watching those damn shows about it either.
It’s hardwood that, white cabinets this. I don’t give a
shit!”

“
That’s swell, Mr. Erdol,”
said Bob. “Why don’t you all take a seat? Wherever you’d like. I
have to grab the food out of the kitchen. There’s red wine bottles
in the buckets.”

The men listened and took a
seat at the marvelous mahogany table, as Jimmy Erdol made sure to
take the seat at the head of the table. Bob opened an unnoticed
steel door to what appeared to be the kitchen. More of the yummy
smells dispersed through the air, causing the men to lick their
lips and fantasize about what the lamb would taste like in their
mouths. The door shut quickly behind Bob, but the smell of the
cooked lamb was stronger than ever.

Each man began to look
about the room and their place setting. Each man had a silver plate
the size of baby in front of them, accompanied with a silver
brimmed wine glass, two forks, a sharp knife, and one spoon. In the
middle of the table, silver buckets filled with ice and the red
wine bottles Bob had mentioned just moments ago. To quench their
thirst, and their boredom, the men all grabbed a bottle of the red
wine and passed it around, each pouring their desired amount into
their glass. Jimmy Erdol, however, grabbed an entire bottle for
himself.

They all clinked their
glasses together loudly.
Clink-ink,
clink-ink.
“To prosperity,” said
Zuber.

“
To prosperity!” all the
men rang out. Glasses clinked again.
Clink-ink, clink-ink
.

They downed their wine,
laughed, then filled up their glasses again. Everything was
starting to go their way once again.

Out came Bob from the steel
door. He was carrying a large circular tray with eight more silver
plates. “I made sure to even have an extra plate for our unexpected
guest,” said Bob as he and the others looked at a blushing Stanzo.
Bob walked around the table and gently placed the smaller entrée
plate on top of the silver plates that were already in front of
every man.

“
This looks incredible,”
said Bjornssen. It did look incredible. Each man was given a
medium-rare rack of lamb ribs seasoned in rosemary and thyme,
quartered red potatoes, and a handful of asparagus. “Even the best
restaurants in Arkansas couldn’t cook something this delicious
looking. Where’s your plate, Bob?”

Bob smiled, “I ate before
you gentlemen arrived. We can begin discussing what you want done
as you eat. I am all ears.” Bob sat down at the table, across from
Jimmy Erdol at the other head. They made eye contact and both
smirked. “Please, dig in.”

Again, the men listened to
Bob and dug right into the lamb, potatoes, and asparagus. Each man
feverishly ate the food, some sloppier than others. One of the
sloppier eaters, Lester Pigeon, began to speak with his mouth full
of lamb.

“
Momma always said it was
impolite to talk while you eat,” said Pigeon, “but she’s been dead
for some time now.” Pigeon and a few others laughed with mouths
full of lamb, potatoes and asparagus.

“
Shut up, Lester,” said
Jimmy Erdol. He wiped asparagus off his face. “Now, Bob, I guess
I’ll begin.”

Bob replied, “Wonderful. As
I said, ‘I’m all ears.’”

“
Good, good,” said Jimmy
Erdol. “Now, we don’t have a problem personally with this Obelis
fella, it’s just he’s not
our
guy and he’s definitely not going to do what we
want. We had hoped that Southwyck could stay sober enough, uh, to
win the election.”

“
Why is it so important
that he, Southwyck, wins the election?” asked Bob.

“
Well, it’s pretty obvious,
Bob. He would do whatever we told him to do. But he can’t be stupid
enough to admit to the public, to the national media, that he’s
gonna bend over for us. That’s just stupidity and I don’t like to
be connected to that stupidity. That’s bad politics.”

“
Ah,” said Bob, “Well, did
you reach anyone in the Republican Party or anyone at the RNC? It
seems like they’d be the ones to help you out, correct?”

“
I tried, Bob. I tried, but
they think we’re too extreme and don’t offer anything of value to
them anymore… That what we’re trying to do will hurt the party, but
that’s just plain bullshit and they know it. They have way more
extreme candidates running for senate seats and trying to become
presidents.” He took a large bite of his red potatoes. “Normally,
they give us a prime candidate, one that’s had experience, but the
higher ups don’t give a shit about
us.
We’re one of the states where they
don’t give a shit because we don’t have a big enough electorate for
the big elections – for president, congressmen. So they couldn’t
care less about how our state elections go, they’re just focused
solely on the big elections. Southwyck was the only choice they
gave us once we learned Governor Hutchinson wasn’t going to run for
another term – Hutch hasn’t been any help either.”

“
Hmm,” said Bob. “What do
you want out of Arkansas and the people of the state?”