Surge (47 page)

“Fine,” I huff. “We talked, I said I was sorry. She said she wasn’t mad, she was embarrassed.” Cory holds up his hand.

“Embarrassed? Why would she be embarrassed?”

“She thought that she unloaded too much shit on me, which is ridiculous because if she was keeping that in, what the fuck else is hidden in there?” I ask.

“What’d she unload on you?” Cory looks like he may beat the answer out of me, so I give him a tidbit.

“It was about her being kidnapped,” I reply. Cory’s face hardens, but he motions for me to continue. “I can’t, man. You’ll have to ask her yourself, because if I tell you, then she’ll be pissed and stop talking at all.”

“You’re a fucking prick, but you’re right,” he says and rubs a hand down his face. “I don’t know why she’s telling you anything, when she has me.” Cory looks so forlorn, that I have to give him something.

“Olivia said that I’m easy to talk to,” I answer and he snaps his focus back to me. “She did. Maybe it’s because I’m more of a stranger to her than you, and that makes it easier to unload on? Or maybe it’s because it would be embarrassing to talking about this shit with someone she treats as a sibling? Who knows?” He nods to show that I have a point. “There’s also something she said about my eyes. Like they
‘reach into her head and pull out things that are better left buried.’
”

“So, your freaky ass eyes are what make her talk?” Cory asks and I shrug. “I’ll talk to her, I may not have whatever the fuck kind of chameleon eyes you have, but I’ve got history with her.”

“Speaking of history,” I say. “Do you happen to have a picture in your wallet? Olivia wanted to show me it.”

“What picture?” Cory inquires with a tilt to his head.

“Halloween,” I answer. “She wanted to show me what you dressed as.”

“Yeah, I have it,” he replies in a mistrustful tone. “I’ll go give it to her right now.” Fuck! I follow after him like a kid in trouble, who’s trying to talk his way out of being punished.

“You don’t have to do it this second,” I protest. “She’s busy getting ready to leave.”

“No, that’s alright. If Livs wants to see the picture, then she’ll see the damn picture.”

Damn Cory, and his ultimate loyalty to the woman I care about. I trail after his steps, until we find Olivia in the kitchen talking to Leonard and Tommy. Well, Tommy’s standing there and nodding to what they’re saying, but you get the picture.

“Hey, Livs,” Cory calls out. He waits for her to look over before continuing. “Jared said you wanted to see a picture?”

“Huh?” Olivia asks and cocks her head the same way he did.

“Halloween,” I repeat and she nods in a way that says,
‘gotcha.’

“You know the one Cory,” she replies.

“No, I don’t know which one,” he answers. “I have Tinkerbell, Elvira, Joan Jett, Cleopatra and Lara Croft.”

“Lara Croft,” she clarifies.

Cory nods and pulls out his wallet. Sure enough, there are dozens of pictures inside. Most of them are of him, Travis and Olivia, or singles with the two of them, and other people sprinkled in. He pulls out a pocket that holds several plastic wrapped pictures, all of which are the Halloween ones he was naming off. Olivia as Tinkerbell, but much hotter than Tink ever was, Elvira with her gorgeous black hair and red lips showcased along with her bust, Joan Jett in leathers similar to what she wears now, Cleopatra with her black hair pin straight and eyes made up in greens and blues that make her own blue flecks pop, and finally the one I’ve been fantasizing over.

My very own Tomb Raider. Olivia’s wearing the iconic tight white tank top with her own rack that rivals the original’s, the tan short shorts that show off her toned legs, gun holsters on both her shoulders and thighs, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. The only difference is that my Tomb Raider is a sexy woman, while the character was only animated fantasy. I’m drooling over the picture and about to make a run for it, when I feel someone come and stand by my shoulder.

“So, what’d you think?” Olivia asks.

“You looked so fucking hot,” I blurt out and she laughs.

“Not me, Mouth,” she says. “Cory.”

I glance at the picture and see both Cory and Travis beside her, like every other picture, their handsome mugs have to be in the background. Cory’s wearing his hair brushed back with a black bandana tied around it, and dressed in a long sleeved grey under armor top; with a black vest over it, black gloves, gray cargos tucked into boots and armed with guns and grenades. Any fan of Metal Gear would recognize him instantly as Snake. Travis is wearing his dark blonde hair parted off to the side, a black t-shirt with shoulder holsters, black cargos and fingerless gloves. A fan of Resident Evil would know him as Leon.

“You were a bunch of gamer geeks,” I say and she scowls. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. As you can tell, I too was one, since I recognized every outfit without having to ask.” I point to them as I name them. “Cory’s Snake and Travis is Leon. What I would like to know is why the fuck you people had so many gun holsters and weapons hanging around,
before
the wheezers?” Cory and Olivia laugh.

“I’m from the freaking South, of course we were armed to the teeth,” Cory replies.

“You don’t even have an accent, unless you force it,” I retort.

“It fades,” he says with a shrug. “Plus I only lived there for two years and summers, so get over it.”

“Jesus Christ, Olivia!” John exclaims. “Are you trying to make Jared revert back to wet dreams?” Olivia stares at him with huge eyes that look a mixture of terrified, or shocked, either way I’m so nut punching the bastard as soon as we get in the van. “He’s been man-crushing on Lara Croft for freaking years, and here you are, literally showing him you as her. And I have to say, you are far hotter than she ever was.”

Olivia’s face is burning as she crosses her arms under her chest and ducks her chin. Cory punches John in the shoulder, and scowls at him for good measure, as he takes Olivia by the shoulders and walks her out. As soon as they’re out of range, I punch John’s other arm.

“What the fuck did I do?” John asks as he rubs both of his shoulders.

“Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” I retort. “Could it be for when you told Olivia that she was going to give me spanking material? Or was it when you embarrassed her, you dick?”

“It was a joke,” he says defensively.

“A friggin awful one,” I hiss. “Or did you happen to forget what Red said?” I point to my wrists, and give him a pointed look.

“Fuck!” John shouts.

Several shocked eyes look at him for shouting, since they have no idea what the fuck went on, but we ignore them, as I shove John toward the door. I don’t need to shove him for long, since he starts running on his own. I jog after him and stop dead in my tracks when I see Olivia and Cory laughing out front. I thought that I was going to have to calm her from an anxiety attack, not a freaking laugh fest. Walking over cautiously, because I don’t trust this scene at all, I see that they’re still laughing.

“You owe me, Cory,” Olivia says and sticks her hand out to him. Cory mutters something about
‘women and their freaky voodoo shit
,
’
as he hands her a piece of paper. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“You made a wager?” I ask with a confused tone and Olivia nods with a smile firmly on her face. “On what terms?”

“I said that my good friend Mouth, and his partner in crime, would come running within two minutes to see if my fragile state finally cracked for good,” she answers smugly. “Cory said that it would take five minutes, but you were here in less than one.”

“What’d you bet?” John asks.

“Blackmail,” she says and holds up the blank side of a picture. “He’s been keeping this tucked away for years and I’ve finally won it, so really, I should be thanking you, Cassie and Mouth.”

“Cassie?” John asks with a frown.

“Short for Casanova,” Olivia explains. “Leonard likes to call you the
‘Counterfeit Casanova
,
’
but I thought that was too much of a mouthful, so I shortened it. Or did you happen to forget that you have quite the set of girls who are at your beck and call?” John blushes at that. What the fuck? He never blushes, but I’ll ask about that later, right now I want to know about this
‘bet.’

“Hold, on a second,” I say and hold up my hand. “You really bet that we would come and check on you?” They nod. “That’s freaking sick.”

Cory and Olivia just laugh at that, so I snatch the picture out her hand, while she’s distracted. She stops laughing and starts jumping for the picture I’m holding above my head. Her tiny size will never be able to reach, so I leave it there and take a look at this
‘blackmail.’
Olivia’s probably eleven or twelve, and so freaking adorable in her yellow leotard with a black belt across the middle. Travis is standing next to her wearing an open black leather coat, a white t-shirt underneath, sunglasses and a fedora. I don’t see what’s so embarrassing about it, so I hand it back.

“I don’t get it,” I say. Olivia scowls and stomps on my foot, but Cory laughs at something; so I stare at him and ignore my smarting toes. These damn boots are definitely
not
steel toe, the false advertising mother fuckers.

“You would get it if you knew why she was wearing that outfit,” Cory replies as he attempts to wipe the mirth from his eyes. “Livs was being teased for her body, so Travis thought that they should do something for the talent show.”

“It’s Sir Mix-A-Lot’s video,” John comments as he looks at the picture. “You know, ‘I Like Big Butts’?” I want to start laughing now that I get it, but I know that Olivia would probably kick me in the balls, so I fight it back.

“Those bitches were just jealous,” John adds.

“Thanks, John,” she says with a smile. “And I was the one laughing when their boyfriends broke up with them, to ask me out.”

“Travis wasn’t laughing,” Cory adds.

“No, he certainly wasn’t,” Olivia says with a fond smile. “He was my self-appointed, always scowling, bodyguard until high school. Then he growled at them like a rabid dog.”

“I take it you two started dating in high school,” John assumes and she nods.

“Fifteen and he just turned seventeen,” she answers. “Said he wanted to wait for me to grow up a little, but when I got asked to prom by a senior, he said I was grown enough and took me himself.”

“Smart man,” I mutter, but she hears it and looks at me curiously. “He snatched you up before he lost his chance.”

“No, you misunderstood me,” Olivia revises. “
He
said I was too young, but I was already in love with him since we were kids.” She looks at Cory. “How old was I when I said that I would marry Travis?”

“Four,” he answers and they share a smile. “Our moms said that four was a little young, and to ask again when you were thirty.”

“We still didn’t wait that long,” she says with a shake of her head.

“So, you did get married then?” I ask and hope that I’m not pushing her down a dark path.

“Not officially, but we had Cory do it,” Olivia replies.

“They were married in every sense that counts,” Cory confirms and wraps an arm around her shoulders. She’s so tiny that he could wrap it almost completely around her body, and still have more to spare. Olivia leans into the embrace, as if she’s taking strength from it. “The license is just piece a paper. What matters most is how you treat, and feel about each other.”

“And we had the best unlicensed minister in the northeast to officiate it,” she says and kisses Cory’s cheek.

“Damn straight,” Cory says. “Now, let’s get this show on the road. Kelly looks like she may die of heat stroke in that stifling van.” We all glance over and see a red-faced, sweat covered Kelly fanning herself in the baking van, before bursting into laughter.

The bitch has been tamed.

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

Or not.

We’ve been driving for three hours and Kelly has not shut the fuck up. It’s
‘Olivia this’
or
‘that fucking psychotic whore that.’
I’d think it’s safe to say that about half the car wants to strangle the fuck out of her, most especially me; but slamming the brakes on right now in order to do so, would endanger the entire car. That would be because of the packs of wheezers, who are currently chasing after our cars like relentless door to door salesmen.

Why you ask, are the so many? That would be because we had to cut through a city. A city freaking infested with the wheezing bastards. Sure, we’re on a highway. It just so happens to be littered with hundreds of dead cars, and trash that you have to swerve around to avoid, all while going sixty miles an hour. Pretty friggin nerve wrecking already, but then I have that fucking bitch screeching in my ears.

“I told you that crazy Jezebel would kill us all!” Kelly shrieks. “But did you listen to me? No, you didn’t! You followed your dick straight into her web!”

“Someone gag that bitch!” John shouts.

I don’t think anyone can hear him over Kelly’s screaming, the growling of the wheezers, or the pounding of their own hearts. And they must be pounding, since mine feels like it’s going burst out of my chest like that alien in the movie. I’m running with equal measures of fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins. Adrenaline from the will to survive, and fear for the group.