Surge (25 page)

“Hit the sack, I’ll take over.” John shakes his head.

“You took watch at Olivia’s, and you’re going on fewer hours than I am,” he refuses. Seeing that he’s grumpy, I try for a compromise.

“How about we both keep watch?” I propose. “There are two of them, and Olivia would be pissed if they escaped.”

“Alright, but only because I like my fingers,” he relents. I watch as John gets that mischievous twinkle in his eye, the same one that I’ve seen any time his dirty man-brain makes its presence known. “I find that I have many pleasurable uses for these babies, and would rather keep them attached.” He wiggles said fingers at me, before continuing. “So, you can have your way, and keep watch with me, but know that it’s not because I think that I couldn’t handle it on my own.”

“As long as those fingers don’t perform any of those
‘pleasurable uses’
in my presence, you won’t have to worry about losing them,” I tell John and he laughs. “Speaking of missing fingers.” I look over his shoulder to see Victoria’s glaring eyes staring up at me from her position on the tile floor, underneath John’s ass, since he’s still sitting on top of her. “Thanks for the tip offs, but we didn’t need them you, deceitful skank.” I hear some type of growling behind the duct tape. “What was that? I can’t hear you sweetheart, you’ll have to speak up.” I hold up a hand to my ear and am satisfied to hear no more growls. Then I look at the raider with the missing arm. He’s now conscious and look, we have yet another pissed off captive.

“Welcome back, sir,” I say with mock politeness. “Did you enjoy your meet and greet with our washer? The damn thing was
so
excited to make your acquaintance, that it just couldn’t help itself from rushing down to greet you.” I look at the now wrapped stump on his left arm. “I hope you liked your souvenir, it’s one of a kind.”

“I wonder how he’ll like Lara Croft’s version of an introduction,” John comments.

“I’m guessing that he won’t like it, since he doesn’t seem to have enjoyed meeting Mr. Washie,” I reply.

“That’s a damn shame,” John says mournfully. “Washie gave his life for you, you cold bastard.”

Muffled words are shouted through the duct tape and dirty sock that we used as a gag, not that we could understand what he’s saying. Most likely he’s just cursing us for foiling their raid, and capturing him. I bet it’s something like,
‘
And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids!’

Shut up, I freaking love Scooby Doo. And you should know by now that all men are kids at heart, so we never truly grow up; no matter how old our bodies might say that we are. We keep our immaturity for life. For example, it doesn’t matter how old we are, most of our conversations have, and always will, revolve around our penises, sex, video games, sex games, sports, different sex positions, work, hot women at work, women we want to fuck, and the women we do fuck. I’m sure you get the picture by now.

I’m pulled out of my own mental fantasy, one where I’m bending a certain and
very
willing raven haired goddess over a couch and burying myself eight inches deep, all because of the fucker that’s still mumbling through the duct tape. I kick the dream murdering asshole from my position on the stool, and he finally shuts up. Too bad I won’t have the honor of unmasking this douchebag, but Olivia sure as hell will. And who cares about this asshole raider, or his problems anyway? Not me, that’s for damn sure. I’m positive that once she gets some rest after a few days of sleepless hell, Olivia will be able to pry some answers out of him for whatever it is that she needed a location of.

Speaking of which, I tell John the necessary things that Olivia relayed to me. Nothing personal, because even if John is my best friend and can keep secrets, that doesn’t give me the right to spread her story that she told to me in confidence. It isn’t my place to explain why she is who she is, not only because she shouldn’t have to explain herself to anyone, but I don’t know the entire story myself; and because I don’t want her to regret sharing anything with me. Which she will, if she heard that her personal business got spread like common gossip all because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, and then she would never seek me out or share more of her past with me.

So, all of these things keep me sticking to the bare minimum. Which are that Olivia knows a safe place for us to travel toward, and she’s planning on sharing her proposal with the group tomorrow. No mention of her fiancé being, as Cory put it
‘gone
,
’
her mom being a volunteer, or that she knows more than she’s said about the raiders. But no one needs to know these things anyway. If Olivia decides to share her story someday, then that’s on her. I’ll be there to listen to anything she wants to talk about, but I won’t force her. As shown earlier, she’ll reveal more if she isn’t pressured. Maybe someday I’ll even have her trust like Cory or Travis.

And if that day were to come, I know that I’ll be one lucky bastard.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

It’s mid-morning before John and I are relieved of guard duty. Olivia claimed that she couldn’t sleep; and I guess that she didn’t, since she only went out into the hallway at five, and is already back before 9 A.M. Cory’s with her, but looks a tiny bit more rested. While Olivia’s eyes show her lack of sleep with the whites of her eyes being bloodshot and dark purple bags underneath, Cory looks tense; as if he just sat down, and had to get back up again before he was ready.

Leaving them to it, with promises that she’ll hold off on interrogating the prisoners, John and I hit the sack. I refuse to go into my bed, so I take up Sarah’s now empty one. She’s already joined anyone else that was awake, and is trying to follow the normal morning routine without the same exuberance as previous days. This is mostly because of the close call last night, along with the glaring reminder this morning with the room being empty because of that very threat. It’s not a very inviting environment with no furniture to sit on, having to step over tied captives while preparing breakfast, and dead bodies being stacked only a couple hundred feet away.

But I leave them to sort it all out, while I catch a few badly needed Z’s in order for me to function properly. Taking a quote from
The Shining
and tweaking it a bit,
‘All work and no sleep make Jared a rabid dog.’
As soon my head hits Sarah’s pillow, I’m conked out.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~><~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

“Jared,” a female voice says softly. I ignore it since I want more sleep. “Jared.” The voice sounds a little annoyed this time, but I just snuggle down deeper into the quilt. “Jared, get the fuck up, or you aren’t getting any coffee.”

I spring upright and stare at Olivia with expectant eyes. Glancing around, I don’t see any of the promised sustenance. I turn my most ferocious glare at the raven haired beauty who dared to lie me about the love of my life. Her large grey eyes just stare right back with a hint of amusement hidden in their irises. She thinks I can’t see it, but I can, and it pisses me right the fuck off. You don’t fuck with me about my coffee.

“Before you try and attack me like you did John the other day, let me just remind you that I can, and will kill you, if you do,” she warns. “So, if you would like some coffee, get your lazy ass up, and get it yourself in the kitchen.” She points toward the door. “Because it’s almost gone.”

I’m already up and running before she says
‘gone.’
Nearly tripping on my sweats; they have since become loose due to food rations being stretched to accommodate more people than we were equipped to handle, I skid into the kitchen and find it empty. But people aren’t my goal, the fragrant smell that’s suffocating the air with deliciousness is. Using my bloodhound nose, I sniff it out; quickly finding it under the sink and hidden behind the cleaning products, and still remarkably warm. I don’t add anything to the pot or pour it into a mug, oh no, that would be a waste of time. Instead, I tip the whole container upside down, and chug like it’s a beer keg in college frat house.

“You weren’t kidding,” Olivia’s amused voice comments from somewhere behind me. “He’s like the freaking Cookie Monster of coffee.”

“And it’s the only way to get him out of bed willingly,” John replies.

“You should have seen him when we ran out a few weeks back,” Cory adds. “I thought I was going to have to put him out of his misery.” Turning to face the trio, who have since ganged up on me, I snarl at them. Which really loses its effect, when I have some liquid running down my chin like a kid high on laughing gas.

“If you recall correctly,” I hiss. “I told you to pick up some more.”

“It’s not like I can go pick it up at the corner store,” Cory retorts. “But seriously, Jared, you were having a man period over your lack of caffeine; it was just pathetic.” I flip them all off when they laugh. Having finished my gallon of coffee, which isn’t nearly enough to deal with this shit at, I look at my watch, two in the afternoon. Hold up,
two
in the mother fucking
afternoon
.

“Why didn’t you fucks wake me?” I demand and swap my gaze around to encompass them all. “I should have been up hours ago.”

“Sleeping Beauty needed his rest,” Olivia answers.

I’m finally awake enough to look at her. She has dark smudges under her eyes, and her face is filthy with a mixture of dirt and blood; not to mention she’s wearing the same leather attire as yesterday, minus the helmet. John and Cory are in similar states, while I’m fresh and clean, making me the odd man out.

“Besides, it’s not like you could have done anything today anyway,” she continues. “Mike is resting, and you haven’t convinced the group to live nomadic for a month, so what’s the big deal? I’m the one who had plans today.”

“And those plans are?” I ask and cross my arms because there is no way in hell that I’m just going to twiddle my thumbs, while she gets to have all the fun doing whatever the fuck it is she has planned.

“Interrogating the witness,” she says. “But you can’t come.”

“The fuck I can’t!”

“Now, hold up, Jared,” John interrupts. “We already talked, and we think that Olivia would work better alone.”

“No,” I bark. “She isn’t being locked in with some murderer.”

“Sorry to point out the obvious here,” says the woman in question. “But I am in fact a killer myself, and I have dealt with a hell of a lot worse.”

“Like what?” I inquire before thinking. I want to punch myself in the face when she gets this haunted look in her eyes. John glares at me, and Cory pulls her in for a hug, that she wouldn’t have required if my dumb ass would have kept his fucking mouth shut.

“Never mind, do whatever it was that you agreed on,” I revise. “I should have gotten up earlier, if I wanted to be included.” Olivia shakes her head.

“No, you’re right,” she says as she steps away from Cory’s embrace. “This is your house, your group, and I’m just a temporary guest. If you want to come in, then I won’t stop you, but you better not stop me either.” Her gaze captures mine and holds it to make her point clear. I nod and she continues. “Then let’s go interrogate our perp.”