Blowback, p.9
Blowback, page 9
part #12 of Nathan K Series
“We’re not a cult.”
Octavia eyed her weapon like a starving woman at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Nathan knew that hunger well. She was not used to being down to one soul. The hollowness must have already gnawed at her — not only with the desire to acquire a second soul, but with the knowledge of her vulnerability. If she died now, everything ended. But get ahold of her handgun and at least she would have some protection. A fighting chance. Most important to Nathan, however — he could see in the twitch of her hand and the lick of her lips that she would not listen to him. Survival instincts had kicked in, overriding anything else.
But once she acquired a new second soul, once she could think clearly again, she would hunt him down. She would hinder every effort to free Robin. The only other person in a position to help would be Dieter, and Nathan did not even know which version of the man was true.
Nathan circled toward the CZ, keeping Maggie aimed at Octavia the entire time. He had an idea. Another bad one. “I want to make a deal.”
“Oh?”
“Help me get to Robin, help me keep her alive, see for yourself the value in not sacrificing humans for some future peace that’s only ever promised, and after that, if you still want me to go with you to face the Immortals, I’ll go. No trouble.”
Octavia hesitated.
Nathan said, “No trick. You’ve proven many times that when you give your word, you mean it. I’ll trust you with that. Since you’re the one who taught me, I think you can trust me the same.”
He put his foot on the weapon, and this knocked Octavia’s attention off her immediate needs. For a flash, she considered his proposal. She nodded. “Okay.”
“I must ask you to say it.”
With a sigh, she said, “I will aid you in finding Robin and extracting her from whatever trouble she is in. I will try to see the value in such actions. However, if at the end of this exercise, I am unconvinced, then you agree to accompany me without a fight.”
“Thank you.” Nathan kicked her weapon over. “You’ll want to have that. After all, we’ve got to carjack somebody.”
They both turned their attention to the smashed cars, the burning truck, and the small but growing traffic jam.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Heading away from the crash, Nathan could not escape the unsettling thought that he had become more like the Immortals he fought against than he wanted to admit. After all, in order to protect Robin, a human he cared for, he willingly rammed an eighteen-wheeler. If he didn’t kill that driver, he probably sent the guy to the hospital. Then he and Octavia argued, threatening to shoot each other, while more people suffered in the accident yards away. They never once offered to help those people. Finally, he forced a young, male couple out of their car at gunpoint. Octavia chose the couple because their little Toyota had been the last car in the traffic line. No other reason. But while one man clutched the other’s hand, praying to avoid confrontation, the other man fumed, swore, and tried to berate the carjackers into submission. In the end, Nathan hit the man with Maggie, knocking him hard enough to cease the attention-grabbing noise. Though miles behind them now, Nathan could not get away from the shock on both men’s faces — as if wondering what kind of monsters behaved in such a way. What monsters, indeed.
“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Octavia said, startling Nathan out of his head.
“Back to the farmhouse. Last place where Robin was, so it’s the obvious place to start looking.”
“In other words, the answer is no. You have no clue.”
“Are you offering a different approach? I’m listening.”
“That’ll be a first.”
What he really needed was Robin. He needed Robin to find Robin. Or a hacker like Robin … “Hey, maybe you can offer something.”
“Oh?”
“Clockwork. Can you get him to help us?”
“Sure.” She tapped her ear-comm.
No argument. No negotiation. Too easy.
Nathan said, “I want to hear the whole conversation.”
“No trust at all,” she said, with a trace of amusement. “You sound more like an Immortal all the time.”
After adjusting the output, she placed the ear-comm in a cupholder. As she tried to contact Clockwork, Nathan bumped his ear against his shoulder — might as well see if Robin could be reached, too. Octavia had returned the comm intact, but as he suspected, he heard nothing. Either the ear-comm had been damaged in the crash or Robin was no longer connected. Considering the abuse his body had taken, he guessed the former.
“Is it possible?” Octavia said, and Nathan realized he had zoned out again.
Clockwork’s voice said, “Of course. It’ll be easy.”
“If it’s so easy,” Nathan said, picturing Clockwork’s condescending glare, “how come you’ve had such a hard time tracking us down?”
“I believe you are talking to me right now because you were, indeed, found. Also, tracking you both has always had the added difficulty that Robin worked against me. I am assuming that she wishes to be found now. Or has she finally come to her senses and dumped you?”
Octavia picked up the ear-comm. “Just do what you can.” She tapped it off and stuck it back in her ear. Folding her arms, she shifted away from Nathan and gazed out the window.
They stayed quiet for several minutes. As much as he wanted to pick a fight with her, argue his points, try to wake Octavia to the truth that Larkin — whatever he may have once stood for — no longer represented any decent vision of the future, Nathan guessed he would be best off saying nothing. At least, for now.
The strangest part — he could see how, in another time, he might shelve the debate for a year or two or twenty. Disagreements between Immortals, no matter how serious, could always be tabled for another day. In doing so, they could create a temporary peace that might lead to a longer-lasting variety. However, time could also make small arguments fester into much larger, more dangerous problems. The whole thing made Nathan’s head spin, and he imagined many Immortals had suffered the same whirling thoughts in the past.
“I wish you would stop hating us,” she said. In the quiet that followed, he considered a reply or staying silent. But she turned towards him. “You could learn from us, learn our culture before you criticize it all. We’re not what you think.”
Hoping to excise any condescension in his voice, he said, “I know you’re not all like Russo. But I also know that he was not an isolated incident. In fact —”
“No. No more of your talking. That’s one of your problems. You talk so much, yet you never hear. This time, you drive and you listen.” She paused. When he gestured his acceptance of her commands, she said, “Ever since you became an Immortal, you have insisted on gaining your freedom. From what, I don’t think you really know. The mere fact that you seek this undefined freedom is proof that you don’t understand Immortals at all. Freedom? We live forever. That makes us free. But only when we accept that we are not individuals in some mythical, peaceful anarchy. It doesn’t work that way. Not when time is measured in centuries or longer. Your concepts of self, of individuality, must change. For Immortals, we behave more like countries.
“A country can last for thousands of years and alter its way of doing things as it grows and changes. England has been through many such changes. And when you realize that other countries have long memories, you have to be careful how you handle relationships. If you’re not, it is too easy to start a global war.”
Nathan said, “You want me to see Larkin as a country?”
“I believe that to avoid fighting which may last several lifetimes, it would be best for all Immortals to form a protective body. Not a government of our own — we value true freedom too much — but rather a UN of sorts. In his own way, at one point, Larkin had attempted to achieve that. He was on the right path until his obsession with you began.”
“Now I’m at fault for the destruction of potentially infinite freedom.”
Octavia snorted a laugh, then covered her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? I should think simple, natural things like a loud honk wouldn’t carry the same social embarrassment when you live forever. I mean by the time you’ve got a few lives under your belt, wouldn’t all of us have publicly passed gas, snorted, and made every bodily noise possible?”
She nodded. “Some behaviors are harder to escape than others. I’ve met a few Japanese Immortals that cannot get over the strict social norms of the samurai era. They struggle to function in contemporary society. It gets easier the longer you live, but it can still be hard.”
Nathan chanced a smile. “When you talk like this, I start to think we’re on the same side.”
She bolted upright, one hand against her ear. After a moment, she said, “Thank you. I owe you.” Then to Nathan: “Clockwork has a location. Pull over.”
“We have to keep moving. I can turn around, if that’s what he said, but we need to get to Robin and —”
“We’ll die forever if we go after her now.”
“But —”
“Pull over.”
Nathan did so, though not without some muttered grumbling. When he stopped, he gestured to their standstill position. “Well?”
“Robin and Dieter are being held on a secure Barrett compound. It’s a warehouse coupled with an office building. There’s also a two-story home on the property.”
“Where?”
“I’ll tell you when we’re ready.” She raised one index finger to hush him. “A compound such as this, if owned by a regular, legitimate company, would still have numerous security guards patrolling the area. This compound, however, is operated by a crime family. They will have guards, too — better armed and more trigger-happy. For us to go into that situation, we need our second souls. Otherwise, we’ll be permanently dead before we reach the first building.”
Pulling back onto the road, Nathan grunted. “Fine.”
“Where are you going?”
“We can’t be that far from Brisbane. Plenty of souls in a city that size.”
“It’s a waste of time to go all the way back to the city. We should pretend to have car trouble and wait for somebody to help.”
“Kill people who are trying to be good, decent folks?”
Octavia rolled her eyes. “Ah, your moral code about taking souls. Here’s a chance for you to finally listen to me and learn — taking the life of somebody willing to aid a stranded driver is one of the most secure ways to get a second soul.”
“How? If they’re young or strong or both —”
“Those factors are less important than you think. It’s more a matter of the type of person the soul belonged to. A good, helpful soul will not want to cause harm to the host and will not fight for control when the time comes. Highly religious people can be equally good choices because when you die and release them, they are grateful to be on their way to whatever afterlife they think they’ll enjoy.”
“My way means not having to care about their personality. They’re too old to fight me off.”
“I didn’t say your way was wrong. Only a bit narrow in focus. Had you not cut your training short, I would have been able to teach you such things.”
Nathan shook his head. “Well, I’m driving, so, we do this my way.”
“As long as you will still follow through on our deal — regardless of the outcome for Robin. I won’t have you backing out because you took too long getting a second soul.”
“How is it going to be faster waiting on the side of the road for a Good Samaritan?”
“For one, we wouldn’t be wasting time driving in the wrong direction.”
Slamming on the brakes, Nathan spun the car around. “You could have said something sooner.”
“You wouldn’t have listened. You never do.”
“Enough games. Where are we going?”
“Into the desert. I’ll make sure we stay on track, but I won’t explain more until after we have our second souls.”
“We are not tricking people into helping us only to kill them.”
Octavia looked calm, maybe even bored. “At some point, you’ll need gas. I’ll get my second soul then. I urge you to do the same. If you can’t stomach that, so be it. I’m done with this debate.”
They both grew quiet. But there was no peace.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hours later, Nathan and Octavia lay flat against the coarse dirt of a desert hill as they looked upon the Barrett compound. Despite the long, hot day, the ground felt cool against his belly. Cooking meats and unfamiliar spices drifted on the air. Dinner time. Nathan’s stomach rumbled.
He should have bought a sandwich or an energy bar when they had refueled at the gas station-convenience shop. Petrol station — Nathan still converted the word to gas in his head, but like much of the world, they used the word petrol here. A minor difference. Yet all those minor differences added up until a gap formed between not only language but thoughts, too. Culture, religion, politics — it all rooted back to the little changes between two groups.
Using the zoom on her phone, Octavia surveyed the compound. A massive, boxy warehouse dominated the left side of the property. It had a dozen bays for trucks, a wide parking lot, and floodlights keeping the area bathed in an unnatural pale amber. One of the bay doors had been rolled up, and Nathan watched several forklifts zip by with palates of boxes. Though the day winded down, the activity inside buzzed on. While the Barrett’s illegal business ventures never ceased — drugs, prostitution, and whatever else was always in high demand — perhaps their legitimate business fronts had also proved lucrative. Enough so that they might run the legal side of the warehouse non-stop, too.
Open 24 hrs. All year. We never close! The sign at the petrol station had promised, and being the lone stop for endless desert miles, Nathan believed them. Like the warehouse, the petrol station was large and busy.
Travelers and tourists packed the place. Some fueled at the pumps, others parked along the front. Some people stood by their cars, stretching their legs, while others lowered their seats back to rest from the weary road. Still others rushed the store for food, caffeine, or the restrooms.
But Octavia had Nathan drive around to the back. They found half-a-dozen trucks — eighteen-wheelers — parked in the dark. Truckers slept here, regaining strength before heading back on their long desert hauls.
“Less eyes on us in the back,” Octavia said. “This is a stolen car, after all.”
When he parked, she slipped out. “I’ll get us fixed up. You wait here.”
Not leaving room to debate, she walked off. And like that, he was alone. He could have followed her — should have — but the early pangs of hunger had hit. He did not relish the idea of scarfing down an overcooked hot dog or some stale, sugar-based abomination with bright, happy packaging, but he had to eat something. Being Immortal would never free him from basic needs.
Gazing over the compound, Octavia indicated a three-story facility to the right of the warehouse. A smattering of lights could be seen — two on the top floor, one on the second floor, and four on the first. “That’s the offices. I’d guess that most of it is legal, same as the warehouse. The majority of employees probably have no idea they’re working as a front. But trafficking of all kinds is passing through here. Not a doubt in my mind.”
“Can Clockwork get us a layout of the buildings? Robin could.”
“Let’s keep him focused on the job we’ve asked.”
That job had been assigned before they left the petrol station. After Octavia had returned. Nathan saw her emerge from the back of the store, yet she did not carry armloads of bad food destined to cause stomachaches. Instead, a young couple walked with her.
They looked like newlyweds — beaming at each other with endless joy and lust. The man had shaggy, brown hair to his shoulders, a lanky build, and thick-framed glasses. The woman wore a straw hat over reddish locks to shade her fair, freckled skin. They chatted with Octavia as she pointed to the car and waved for Nathan to get out. All so light, free, and friendly. The pit of his stomach gurgled with hunger, but he knew it wanted more than food.
“This is Todd and Amber. They’re grad students,” Octavia said.
Todd waved. “We’re studying the Aborigines.”
“Specifically,” Amber said with a bright smile, “we want to know the impact of civilization on the erasure of culture. If this goes well, we might be able to get permission to study the Native Americans or even the Eskimos.”
“Great,” Nathan said in a monotone.
“We couldn’t believe our luck when we met your wife inside.”
Todd nodded. “An Aborigine who had left that world to join Australian society. Amazing.”
Nathan caught Octavia’s smirk. She had found two idiots. Bad enough they accepted Octavia as Aborigine because she was black, but they swallowed her story. The Aborigines worked in, around, and with other Australians all the time. They didn’t sequester themselves from the world like the Amish.
Trying to hide his surprise, he said, “What school are you with?”
“Not any yet. Once we finish our research and get our paper published, though, every major university in the world will be glad to have us onboard.”
Octavia said, “I want to show Todd that small area further back where they have some old artifacts.”
Todd said, “Yeah. I can’t believe how easy it is to find the stuff. We thought we’d have to go deep into the desert and spend weeks looking. But here your wife shows up and there’s practically a gold mine of artifacts just sitting around back. Can’t wait to see it all.”
“You don’t mind hanging out here with Amber while we’re gone, do you, honey?” Octavia purred the words, and the sound ground into Nathan’s ear like stone against glass.
Amber said, “I don’t do the dirty digging part. That’s all Todd.”
“Oh,” Nathan said. “Sure.”
As Octavia and Todd sauntered by the trucks and headed into the dark stretches beyond, Amber climbed in the passenger seat and pulled out a candy bar. “You want some?”
