Strange Robby (39 page)

The waitress brought him a menu and a glass of water. "Hello, I'm Helen. When you're ready to order just holler."

She was smiling at him. He liked that. So few people ever took the time to smile anymore. He smiled back.

"Thank you."

He took the menu, looked at it for a few minutes just to be polite—hell, he'd known what he was getting when he'd walked in the door—then he coughed a little.

Helen walked over, still smiling.

"So, what can we do for you?"

"Burger, fries and a coke," he said.

She nodded and started to go.

"Wa.. wait up."

She turned around.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm new in town. I just passed a big building all guarded up, SWG or SWT . . . "

"The SWTF building?"

"Yeah, that one. Just what is that anyway? They got it guarded like Fort Knox."

She laughed and shrugged. "I've been asking that same question around here for four years. Ain't no one givin' me the same answer twice. Some sort of government agency. A lot of them come in here for lunch. Real spooky bunch if you ask me. Won't tell you anything that they do, all wear long lab coats and button up shirts with pocket protectors—except the guards. If you ask them what they do they all say the same thing. Research. Whatever the hell that means. There now, you know as much as I do, so you can't be a newcomer any more. Your food will be done in about twenty minutes. I'll bring you your coke." She took off.

She was pretty and nice. Robby smiled. He liked her. He'd never really had the time to date, hadn't even taken the time to look around. He was looking now. She was fine, nice face, pretty smile, great figure . . . and he was probably going to get his fool self killed trying to save some hard-headed police woman from a bunch of Nazi-like whackos. He wondered if a day was ever going to come when his life wouldn't suck. But at least Helen had given him something nice to think about.

"I said I have to pee!" she screamed, then laughed.

"You just went," he said.

Spider winked at the woman technician in the room. "And let me tell you, Honey, you sure know how to wipe a snatch. I have to go again!" she screamed at the man.

"You're not going till you answer the question," he said. He was exhausted. They'd been doing this for hours with several different drugs, and nothing was working.

"Tell that to my bladder," Spider laughed. Then she pissed down her leg.

"Oh, for God's sake!" the man screamed.

"Hey! I warned you!" She laughed hysterically. The drug that should have made her spill her guts was only making her high as a kite.

"Let her come down. We'll try something else."

Her head was pounding, and her butt didn't feel that great, either, after passing the beacon. Luckily she had flushed it, and no one was the wiser.

The fucking drugs had left the taste of fermenting onions in her mouth. She felt like six miles of rough, rocky road.

The scientist walked in. This time he had one of the So-what-if guys with him. He had a weapon in his hand that she was only too familiar with.

"So, we've graduated to torture," Spider said dully. She noticed her voice was horse. "You fucking creeps. Don't you get it? You can kill me, but you can't break me."

"Why are you making me do this?" the short fat man screamed. "I don't want to hurt you. It gives me no pleasure. Give me this man, and I promise you he will not be hurt, either"

"Unless of course he doesn't do what you tell him." Spider laughed. She licked at her swollen lips. "Then you'll shoot him full of drugs, hang him from the ceiling, and torture him. I can live with my own pain before I could deal with his. That's what makes me different from you. I'm not making you do shit. Whatever you do to me you do of your own free will. I don't see you hanging from a straightjacket being interrogated. On the other hand, whatever I wind up doing will undoubtedly be your fault, because you could have left me alone, and you chose not to."

The man hit her with the cattle prod. After a while she lost track of how many times. Finally she looked down at the little man with glaring hatred. "I'm not going to scream out his name. I'm not going to scream out at all. You can fry me to a crisp with that fucking thing." She looked at the SWTF man who was dishing out the punishment and said directly to him. "I'm going to take that thing and shove it up your ass. Do you hear me?"

The fat guy nodded his head indicating to the other man that he should shock her again. The SWTF guy moved a little closer than he had been before. It was a big mistake. Spider jerked quickly. Her foot landed with a resounding
thud
in the side of the man's head, and he fell to the floor convulsing.

Spider laughed maniacally. "You don't even know who you're fucking with, but then again maybe you do. In which case, you shouldn't be screwing with me!"

The scientist knelt beside the now still man on the floor. He checked him, then screamed, "Medic! Medic!" He glared at Spider. "I think you killed him."

"Let's see . . . I'm hanging from the ceiling and the bastard was hitting me over and over again with a fucking cattle prod . . . No, I don't feel one damn bit of remorse."

The medics rushed in, put the man on a stretcher and carried him away.

The scientist looked at Spider and screamed at the top of his lungs. "Just tell me!"

"Just . . . No!"

Jason didn't like this. The whole thing stank. He slipped on his gas mask and lobbed the canister into the door he had just picked the lock on. He closed the door and waited.

"10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1."

He and Roger went in.

The gas was still thick, but it would dissipate. By morning there would be no noticeable residue. Jason picked up the canister and pocketed it as he made his way upstairs. He looked in on the parents; they hadn't woken up, and now they wouldn't for at least three hours. He found the boy in his bed and lifted him into his arms.

He couldn't imagine how he would feel if he woke up and found his son missing. How Josh would feel waking up in some strange place, much less where this boy was going.

Jason started to carry the boy on out, but then handed him to Roger. Downstairs and out of the house the lab coats took the boy and shoved him into the van.

Jason and Roger headed for their car. Their work was over here. They'd be following the van back to headquarters as escort. Jason looked over at Roger who looked visibly shaken.

"So, how do you feel about your new job now?"

 
"Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt
find it after many days."
Ecclesiastes 11:1

 

Carrie lay in her empty bed, praying that the phone would ring and it would be Spider. She rolled over and looked at the clock. It was two in the morning. She couldn't sleep and everything sucked. They still hadn't found Spider's car or any trace of her. To make matters worse, the SWTF had seen fit to visit her that afternoon.

"What the hell do you want?" she'd asked him.

"Oh we've got what we want, DA Long. Now we just want to make sure that it stays in good health. I think that's in both of our interests."

"What is that supposed to mean, Mr . . . "

"Deacon, the name is Deacon, and I thought that was really pretty plain."

"You're saying you have Spider," Carrie said. "This is insane! I don't know what you lunatics are up to, but I can by God guarantee . . . "

He was clicking his tongue then. "Oh, come now, all this name calling doesn't suit you. As for threats . . . Well, we both know how hollow those are since I hold all the cards."

Carrie sighed. The bastard was right. He had everything. He knew what the hell was going on, and she didn't have any idea, and he had Spider.

"That's better. Now, if you ever want to see the object in question . . . "

"Is there any chance of that?" Carrie asked with a lump in her throat. Mad at herself for showing the weakness that she knew he was counting on. "Because if there isn't, why am I even talking to you?"

"There's a very real chance if you play your cards right."

"And how do I do that? After all, as you just pointed out I have no cards."

"You quit looking for Spider Webb. If anyone asks, she's gone to visit some old army buddies."

Carrie nodded silently then looked up at him. "Why are you ruining our lives?"

The man's manner changed then, and he looked almost sorry. "Because a handful of stupid people think they have the right to make decisions for the whole world, and the rest of us are powerless to stop them. It's easier if you learn not to give a damn, Sir." With that he got up and left.

No guarantees, but she called off the search. That didn't mean she was going to quit looking, it just meant she wasn't going to be so obvious about it.

She rolled over again. She could still smell Spider on the blankets and pillows. She hit the bed with her fist.

"Spider! Where the hell are you!" She buried her face in Spider's pillow and cried till she fell asleep.

She woke with a start before the alarm had gone off. The light was just creeping into the room, and she didn't have to piss. She knew some noise had woke her up. She rolled over, sat up, opened the drawer on the bedside table, and took her gun out. She heard a car backing out of the driveway, pulled the gun from its holster and cocked it before running to the window. She could just make out the car as it left the driveway, but in the dim light couldn't have made out the make or the model. She did know it wasn't Spider's rental, it had been white, and this car was a dark color maybe even black.

She grabbed her comlink and strapped it on her wrist then slowly and carefully left her room, checking all the upstairs rooms first before going downstairs to do the same thing. She found a Metallica CD sitting on the rug just inside the front door. Someone had no doubt pushed it through the mail slot. She walked over and cautiously picked it up. She removed the tape and slowly lifted the lid, half expecting to find a smashed flat body part. Inside was a CD marked with the words, "Dammit Tommy I told you not to open this," in Spider's handwriting.

Carrie was pretty sure that Spider wouldn't want her to see it, either.

The road was worse than he remembered it. Of course it had twenty years to deteriorate, too. Still, it was a rental car he never planned to return, and he didn't really care what happened to it. He finally reached a part of the road bad enough that he had to stop. He pulled off the road and into the brush as far as he dared and parked. Laura must have been really wiped out from her injury. They had put her seat back and even the rough ride hadn't woke her up.

He found the sleeping bags and covered himself and Laura, letting her keep both pillows. It would get cold tonight. He looked out the window at the stars. It was clear; it was beautiful.

Whatever else, he and Laura would be safe now.

He wished he could be sure where Spider was.

He hoped he'd done the right thing having Bud take the disk to Carrie instead of having him put the information on the web as Spider had instructed. He was working under the assumption that Spider was still alive, and that she could make it through whatever-the-hell was happening. If she did, and everything she had told him was true, she'd be condemned anyway if what was on that CD got out. He hoped that Carrie would know what to do with the information on that disk.

He wished he had any idea at all of what was going on back in Shea city, what if anything had happened to Spider.

That was when he realized just how cut off he was. No phone, no comlink. They had radio, but that wouldn't tell him what was happening with Spider. He'd have to get out, go in somewhere and find out. But that would have to wait till he had hidden Laura safely away, until after things had cooled down a little.

He crunched down into the sleeping bag and sighed. It was warm and he was tired. He could worry about the rest of the world tomorrow; tonight he needed to sleep.

Her little "escapade" as they called it had gotten her sedated again. When she woke up this time the thing was back on her head, she was chained by the ankles to something she couldn't see, and her hands were cuffed behind her back. Her shoulders were starting to hurt from being in the same position for so long, so she sat up with no small effort and pretended not to notice the thing on her head.

"I'm hungry! Do you have it in your heads to starve me?" she asked.

Nothing. Not a murmur. She knew what they were doing now. Sensory deprivation.

She had no idea how many hours passed without contact. No one spoke to her. No matter how many times she told them she knew what they were doing they didn't stop doing it.