Surge (96 page)

“Not just one of them,” Carlos counters. “We got them from before the split, after the split, Modern Warfares, all the way up to Ghosts.”

“That’s the fuck it!” John shouts and slams his hand on the table. “Game on, mother fuckers, game on.”

“You do know there’s no internet for you to play on, right?” I ask John.

“But there’s still campaign mode, and two player,” he counters. “As long as there’s a functioning console, and a controller in my hands, I’m good with it.”

“Why’d you get a kickass cabin anyway?” I ask the twins. “You take up Dennington on her offer?”

“Fuck no,” Carlos retorts.

“We’re guards, and they get special treatment around here,” Oscar answers. “For obvious reasons, really. If we’re out there, risking our asses, then the least they could do is make sure we have a comfortable place to rest our heads.”

“So, you’re staying then?” I ask them.

“Nah, it’ll be there whenever we get back,” Carlos says with a wave at me.

“And no playing until we get back,” Oscar tells John.

“Fuck that, I’m coming with you selfish assholes,” John says.

“Does Olivia know she has a troop following after her?” I ask.

“Nope,” John answers. “We’re just gonna be bright eyed, and bushy tailed at the gate tomorrow morning.”

“What time?”

“Four A.M.,” Carlos replies. “That way we won’t miss her sneaking out, like Wally said she did the last couple of times.”

“You talked to him then?”

“We talked to all four of them,” Oscar says. “Wally said she came here about seven months ago with some other chick. When she got here, Olivia was close to death with an infection in her neck. He said it looked like something mauled her throat, and they didn’t want to take her in at all.”

“But Webby pulled her in anyway,” Carlos says. “Said that if he was wrong, he’d take the repercussions.”

“Habish hooked her up to some antibiotics, and she slept for four days straight,” Oscar picks up. “When she came to, she sliced two nurses, and stabbed Habish in his arm.”

“When Webby came in to try and calm her down, she cut him too,” Carlos says. “Eventually, Habish managed sedate her, but Dennington wanted to put her down.”

“Hold up,” I interrupt. “Why the fuck would that crotch cricket be anywhere near Olivia, or proposing options in the first place. She’s just head of housing.”

“No, she’s head of
every
thing,” Carlos says and glances around. “Commander Morales is under her jurisdiction, same as everyone else. So, if I were you, I’d use a little bit of caution when you talk about her.”

“I’m not kissing anyone’s ass,” I retort. “Especially hers.”

“Fine, get Sarah tossed out on her ass,” Oscar says with a shrug. Fuck, I’m gonna have to bow down to Queen Cougar. That still don’t mean I’m going to be her personal fuck toy.

“I’ll play nice,” I say. “How’d Olivia go from rabid dog, to that?”

I point at her table, where she currently has a little boy sitting on her knees, and he’s telling her a story. You can tell it’s a story from his hands flying around and Olivia nodding with rapt attention. He’s probably four or five, because he’s small enough to fit on Olivia’s lap and that’s no small feat, pun intended. I can’t see his face, since he’s facing the opposite direction, but he has a head full of black hair that’s a curly mess. Olivia’s running her fingers through it absently, as she smiles at whatever the kid is saying.

“They sent Ally in,” Carlos answers when I turn back to the table. “That’s the chick she came here with. Anyway, Ally went in, and talked to her. Olivia was confused, because she had a high fever, and didn’t remember getting here. After Ally explained where they were, and why she was restrained, she calmed down a little.”

“If I woke up surrounded by strangers, I would’ve cut a bitch, too,” John comments.

“That still doesn’t explain how she’s besties with four dudes,” I say.

“Who do you think trained her?” Oscar asks. “Once Olivia was cleared from the hospital, Dennington set her up in a cabin by herself, and gave her a labor job. Olivia, being Olivia, flipped the old crow off, and demanded a guard position.”

“They were a little hesitant, not Dennington; since she couldn’t care less about Olivia’s welfare, but Morales and the guards,” Carlos continues. “She’s so small; they didn’t think that she could be much use to them. But when Olivia pointed out Webby’s sliced arm, Patsy’s black eye, and Ace’s fat lip, they decided to give it a try.” He points at Olivia. “Looks like she proved them wrong.”

“Where’s that fucking slut!” My head snaps to the screamed voice, to find a brunette storming toward Olivia’s table. Great, another bitch to deal with. “Leave me behind again! What the hell is your problem?” Olivia sets the boy down beside, and her lifts her hand full of fabric, the same ones that I saw Sarah with earlier. The screaming chick halts mid stride. “Is that what I think it is?” Olivia nods, and is almost tackled by the much taller woman. “You know I love you, right?”

“No, you love your silk panties,” Olivia replies as the girl snatches the bundle from her hand, and rubs the tagged items reverently against her cheek.

“If you had to wear those scratchy, starch blended, cotton undies, you would worship silk worms, too,” the woman retorts.

“I know, Ally, remember? I did wear them for two months,” Olivia says.

“How about seven months?” Ally asks and Olivia shivers. “My sentiments exactly.” She then hugs Olivia. “So, when we leaving?”

I can’t hear whatever the rest of the conversation entails, because the previously silent room, has begun buzzing with noise again. But I do see Olivia shake her head at Ally, and look down at the dark haired boy she was talking to. She nods at whatever he says, before he runs away from the table.

“That’s the chick she came here with?” I ask and the twins nod. “They’re like extreme opposites.”

“You click with people you wouldn’t expect to, when there are so few of us left,” Carlos says.

“We don’t know the story of how they met up,” Oscar says. “But they arrived as a pair.”

“And Olivia leaves her behind every time she goes,” I say and they nod. “I’m guessing that’s the reason for it.” I jerk my chin at Ally, who’s still rubbing her cheek against her new underwear. “She seems pretty clueless.”

“That may be true,” John agrees. “But she did survive this long, so she must have some kind of skills.”

“And will you be discovering these
‘skills’
?” Carlos asks with a smirk.

“Nope, not interested,” John replies as he leans back casually in his chair. “Sure, she’s cute, but that’s not my type. I like them more rounded, that chick’s too lean for me.” Bull shit, female is John’s type.

“Damn,” Oscar mutters.

“What exactly would you two get out of the deal if John loses?”

“His .356,” Carlos answers.

“No fucking way,” John retorts and sits upright. “You can keep your fucking mitts away from my baby.”

“Hey, all you have to do is hold out for one month, then you can keep your magnum, and have our cabin,” Oscar says with a shrug.

“Fine, that’s a piece of a cake,” he says. “Say goodbye it tonight, ‘cause you won’t be sleeping it in again.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but wouldn’t that be rather easy for him to do, when he won’t be around a woman until we get back?” I ask. The twins blink a few times.

“Damn, forgot about that,” Carlos mutters.

“We’ll revise it to start whenever we get back,” Oscar says. “So, your previous days of celibacy don’t count.”

“It’ll still be a cakewalk,” John replies.

“We’ll see about that,” I say.

There’s no fucking way that John can keep it in his pants for that long, when there’s a fucking parade of desperate woman inhabiting this joint. All it’s going to take, is one flash of cleavage, and he’s a goner. Actually no, it can’t just be any cleavage because that would include Dennngton’s wrinkled chest, and that would scare me off sex for months. So, it has to be a younger model to tempt John, and there should be plenty of women here who fit the bill.

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

I’m pulled out of my head, of trying to figure out how to approach Olivia, by the sound of scraping. Looking up, I see that the
‘Mess Hall’
is now empty, with the exception of about twenty people out of the hundred and something that I counted earlier. My eyes discover that the scraping noise was from Ace and Patsy pushing a table against the wall. Wally and Webby are pushing another out of the way, so that there’s a clear space in the center where a crowd of kids ranging from five to early teens are gathered.

“Spread out so that you each have some room,” Olivia tells them. The fifteen kids all space out a little, and I see the little boy that Olivia was talking to earlier, is now close to the front with a huge smile on his face. “Sammy, did you tell Benny which song you want to play?”

“Yup, Ollie,” the same boy replies.

“Alright, hit it Benny!” Olivia calls out.

Music immediately streams in from above, where I see speakers on the ceiling. I laugh at the Sammy’s selection of “Teach Me How To Dougie,” until I see that a fucking five year old could whoop my ass in a dance battle. His little black curls bounce as he dougies around the front, following Olivia’s lead, but throws in a few moves of his own. Like when he adds a little to his hair sweep, he actually pops his chest out like a professional dancer. Olivia smiles at that, and begins mimicking his moves.

When the song’s over, Sammy whispers up something to Olivia. She nods and he tells the other kids to take a seat. How a five year old boy could command fourteen older kids is amazing to me, but they immediately move aside as Sammy runs to a desk in back where there’s an Asian kid with headphones on. But it’s not a desk, it’s a freaking DJ table; which he uses to play the music on, like right now when he uses a laptop to change the song selection. Olivia curls her finger at Webby, and he walks out to join her.

“You ready to have your ass handed to you, Webby?”

“Please, your ass is mine,” Webby says with a suggestive grin at her. Olivia gives him a shove.

After Sammy pops a squat with the other kids, Benny plays the music. It’s Blacksheep’s “The Choice is Yours.” How a kid his age would even know that song is amazing to me, but then I remember that commercial with the hamsters dancing to it a few years back, so maybe he remembers it from then? I don’t know, but what I do know, is that Webby can fucking dance. Him and Olivia are facing opposite each other and switching back and forth.

Like Webby will do a few tricks, and then point at Olivia to do hers. I’ve seen Olivia breakdance, him do handstands, and then they start doing tricks together. Webby holds his hands out in front of him, and Olivia uses his boost to flip backwards. The kids all cheer at that, but I’m a little worried about her doing this shit when she’s only just recovered from her last surgery. No, she isn’t showing any signs of discomfort or pain, she’s fucking smiling and laughing at the bastard in front of her. Fine, I’m not worried, I’m jealous, alright? Happy now? I want to be the one she’s laughing and smiling with, and I was, until I decided to be a fucking dick to her.

The song trails off and the kids applaud the performance. If I wasn’t green with envy, I would have admitted that it was pretty fucking awesome, but since I am; I sit here like a grumpy old troll with my arms crossed, refusing to give them the props they were due. That’s further cemented when Benny puts on Ludacris’s “My Chick Bad.” Webby gets behind Olivia, and grips her hips as he rolls his pelvis against her. No he didn’t just fucking rub himself against her ass. I feel a hand curl around my arm.

“It’s just dancing,” John says. “Calm the fuck down.”

“Rubbing your dick against a girl’s ass, is not dancing,” I hiss. “It’s dry humping.”

“It’s called grinding,” John retorts. “And it is a kind of dancing, which I know for a fact that you’ve used a time or two in the clubs, you damn hypocrite.”

“Well, I’m gonna
grind
my foot up his ass, if he does it again.”

The twins are laughing, but I don’t care; you don’t dry hump women, unless they want you to. Not that Olivia’s protesting or anything like that. Nope, not
‘Miss I Don’t Like Touch.’
She’s just dancing along with him, as if he didn’t just hump her in front of children. Like right now, she’s fucking twerking. And no, it’s not Miley’s poor attempt at it, this is actual twerking with hip ticks, and booty shaking. Olivia doesn’t even have her coat on, since she left it on the table before she started dancing with Sammy; so she’s only wearing a pair of baggy sweat pants, along with a tank top that clearly marks out her breasts. That would be because she’s only wearing five sports bras, that I’m counting the straps of right now.