"How's he going to call? There's no cell phone service and no internet here. If someone wanted to, they could cut the telephone lines too, like they do in movies. Hell, we don't even know where he is."
"So let's say your father resurfaces and finds out and then tries to get the word out and fails. That makes the situation better? He'd be a sitting duck."
Natasha saw the grave truth of Veronica's words. "And we don't know to what level this goes. There's no telling who in the government has knowledge of this." Then she paused; she'd been holding the question back, but now seemed the perfect time to ask it. "You mentioned before that you didn't go outside at night because of what's out there," she asked, carefully. "Was it these creatures you were afraid of?"
Veronica smiled for a moment, then let it slowly fall as she noticed that Natasha was deadly serious. "Stories," she finally said. "Rumors. There wasn't anything concrete, just people saying, 'watch out after dark,' or 'beware of the green.' Just stupid stuff that was enough to make you look behind you at night."
"So you didn't know about this already?" Natasha asked.
"No. Just what people talked about. People talk about a lot of things around here."
"That guy Frank told me to beware of the green," Natasha said. "And Kristov told me to watch out for monsters. I thought they were drunk and stupid."
"They probably were, but it makes you wonder, right? How much people really know about what's going on."
"So what are we going to do?" Derrick asked.
Natasha clapped her hands. "First we're going to find that soldier. He's probably scared and hungry. Then we ask him what he's doing here in the first place. My guess is they brought these soldiers in to fight the creatures, so he probably knows something about what's going on."
"Doesn't sound like they did too well last night," Veronica said.
"Last night they didn't have any guns. If the bus hadn't broken down, then they'd have stood more of a chance." Natasha snapped her mouth shut and frowned. "Do you think Hopkins has Gert?" She turned to Derrick. "Do you think he has Dad?"
Derrick suddenly looked young and frightened. "I don't know. Maybe. Unless they're -"
"Don't even say it," Natasha snapped.
Derrick looked down.
The silence settled over them
Veronica put a hand on Natasha's arm. "Come on. There's no sense worrying about things over which you have no control. You're right, we need to find that soldier. He has more answers than we have questions."
Natasha thought about Auntie Lin and how she'd wanted them to help with the lunch service. They were already late and Natasha really didn't want to help out in the restaurant anyway.
"What are we waiting for?" Derrick's face brightened.
"Nothing," Natasha said.
"Nothing." Veronica smiled as she readjusted her pony tail. "Just let me get some things from the fridge for him to eat. He's sure to be hungry."
Veronica grabbed three green chili tamales, a can of Mountain Dew, a vanilla pudding pack and a plastic spoon, and tossed them all into a bag. Natasha told her to add one of the bottles of water. On their way out the door, Veronica's aunt asked why they were taking the food, and Veronica said it was for a picnic. Her auntie made a comment about the nutritional value of their choices, but the kids were gone before she could finish.
It was already two in the afternoon; the sun beat down from a cloudless sky. Even so, they began their search by sump pump #2. Veronica climbed the stairs to sneak a peek at the quay. When she came back down she said that she couldn't see any blood, although there were a lot of flies on the road.
They worked together, deciding to start at the quay and move their way inward towards the center of town. There'd been some talk of separating, but they knew that might be dangerous. Natasha figured that when they found the soldier he was going to be scared. The last thing they needed was to be alone in a dark, abandoned trailer with a man who was scared and had been trained to kill.
So the idea was to announce themselves whenever they went into a trailer. Deciding who would go first was another matter. Natasha and Derrick thought that Veronica should always go in first.
"Oh, sure, send in the Mexican."
Derrick snickered. "You're Mexican?"
"Veronica Lopez sound Chinese to you?" She sniffed.
"I was just kidding," Derrick said.
"Not because you're Mexican," Natasha pointed out. "Because you're from L.A."
"Just to set the record straight, we don't have creatures coming out of the Pacific Ocean attacking soldiers in L.A., so I don't think I have any particular expertise."
"But you've been involved in..." Natasha let it hang. "You know."
"What do I know? I've been involved in what?"
"Gangs."
"Yeah," Derrick repeated, "Gangs."
"Oh, hell. Gimme that!" Veronica grabbed the flashlight from Natasha. She stomped towards the first trailer, mumbling to herself something about how kids from Pennsylvania couldn't find their asses with both hands if it weren't for a certain Mexican chick. She shone the light inside. "Hey soldier? You in there? I'm a bad ass Mexican gangbanger who's going to make enchiladas out of your ass if you don't come out." She turned to Natasha. "Is that better?"
"Uh... I think you scared him," Derrick murmured.
Veronica shook her head and frowned. She mumbled under her breath as she stepped through the broken front door and onto shag carpet that had been new a long time ago, before disco was dead.
Natasha and Derrick followed close behind.
Veronica played the light across the room and into the kitchen. Spider webs dominated the room, and a thick layer of dust coated everything. Tattered cheap paintings hugged paneled walls. The once white popcorn ceiling was gray. As they stepped into the trailer, the vibrations sent a plume of dust trickling down from the ceiling, making them sneeze.
The trailer was in a standard configuration, with three doors coming off a short hallway. The two on the side were a second smaller bedroom and a bathroom, and the door on the end led to the master bedroom. They checked each room and found them empty.
The second and third trailers they searched were burned-out tin hulks, with the residue of those who'd once lived there scattered around the wooden floors, singed and sodden souvenirs of better times. By the time they searched the fourth trailer, the idea of going into one of the dark and dingy interiors no longer sparked fear in Natasha's heart.
Now Derrick wanted to lead the way. They had to pass two occupied trailers first -- Lu Shu's and Carrie Loughnane's. On the other side of the ex-cheerleader's home lay a yellow and white trailer half covered by buffalo grass. Golf cart tracks had worn a path through the weeds to the rusted remnants of the doorframe. Although the windows were broken, the screens behind them covered with cobwebs, it was clear that someone had been here recently.
Yet Derrick was undaunted. Holding his flashlight before him, he turned and grinned infectiously as he stepped boldly into the front room.
And stopped.
He stared at something in the darkness, his light fixed somewhere deep inside the trailer.
Natasha called to him twice, but he refused to answer. She saw his knees buckle and called to him again.
Veronica stepped inside, glanced once down the hall, grabbed Derrick and jerked him out of the doorway. They fell together in the weeds. Veronica tried helping Derrick to his feet, but he was staring blankly at the sky.
"What is it?" Natasha asked. "What did you see?"
Veronica shook her head as she glanced worriedly at the doorway. "Not here," she whispered.
Together the girls got Derrick up and stumbled into the middle of the street. The distance was enough to snap Derrick out of his stupor.
"What is it, Derrick?" Natasha pushed his lank hair out of his eyes. "What did you see?"
He gasped, and wiped his eyes. "I felt something. There was something inside."
Natasha looked at Veronica.
"I felt it too," Veronica said. "I thought I saw one of those things in there."
"What things?" Natasha asked.
"Your
creatures
. I could just make it out standing in the shadows of the master bedroom. Watching us.
Waiting
for us." Veronica shook her head. "It was hard to see. Maybe it was nothing."
"It had no face," Derrick whispered.
Natasha made a move to go inside the trailer, but both Veronica and Derrick grabbed at her.
"You can't go." Derrick shook his head. "The soldier isn't in there."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I'm sure. Trust me."
She jerked her arms free. "Fine. Let's just check the next trailer."
The lot next to the yellow and white trailer was empty. It had been cleared long ago and only held the detritus that the wind had blown on it, trash captured by the weeds.
Beside the lot stood an empty trailer painted in shades of blue. A faded logo of a flock of birds flew forever on the edge across the front door, their painted wings flaking away. The trailer's door was closed.
"Do you want to go in first again?" Natasha held the flashlight out to Derrick.
He shook his head.
Natasha turned the light to the door and tried to shine it through the small window set in the middle, with little luck. It looked as if there was a curtain blocking the flashlight's beam. She tried the doorknob, and opened the door an increment, then glanced around and beckoned the others to follow her. "Anyone in here?" she asked loudly. "If there is, don't be afraid. We're not here to hurt you." Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside.
The living room had once had a mural - a painting of the galaxy - on one wall, now marred by time and dust. In the kitchen, the filthy refrigerator stood half open.
Natasha turned to her left and peered down the hall. It was laid out like all the other trailers.
"Hello? Can you hear me?"
The sound of something shifting down the hall made her jump. She thought she saw something round and black at floor level suddenly disappear from view. Was it a boot? Had the soldier been lying against a wall with his legs extended, or was it one of the creatures?
She waited a few moments until her heartbeat returned to normal. Then she called, "My name is Natasha. I saw what happened last night. I...
we
... live here and want to stop what's happening. We want to help you."
Natasha frowned. She sounded like an idiot.
Still no response.
She tried another tack.
"We have some food for you. I know you're hungry. Probably thirsty, too. We have a Mountain Dew and some water. Do you want some?"
Natasha heard the almost imperceptible sound of fabric brushing against the rug in the other room. Other than that, there was no response. Veronica and Derrick had entered, sticking close to each other. Derrick glanced fearfully down the hallway.
"I think he's here," Natasha whispered.
"Are you sure?" Veronica's eyes widened.
Natasha shrugged. She couldn't be positive, but she felt like he was the one back there making the noise.
"Listen, I know you're back there. I can hear you, so there's no reason to hide." She waited. Nothing. "We're here to help, but come nightfall, either the people from the plant or the creatures are going to come after you." She paused again, but still nothing. "So you can face me or you can face the creatures. And I'm just a girl. So how about it?"
A groan came from the master bedroom. It was followed by a scraping sound as if someone were using the wall to help them stand, sliding their back up for support. "Who are you?" came a weak raspy voice.
Natasha felt her heart leap.
"Natasha Oliver. We own the Space Station Restaurant here in Bombay Beach. I'm here to help. Can we come in?"
"Who else?"
Natasha turned and was about to reply when she saw Veronica point to herself and shake her head. Natasha started to say something, but stopped when Veronica shook her head more violently. Then she got it.
"Just me and my brother," Natasha said.
"Hi. I'm Derrick," Derrick said.
"Come on then. Slowly."
The voice sounded sick. For the first time, Natasha felt a twinge of fear. What if it was some kind of disease that turned the people into those creatures? It happened in the movies.
Derrick prodded her in the back.
She grabbed the bag of food and water and walked slowly down the hall. She entered the room and found the soldier sagging in a corner. Derrick entered and stood in the doorway behind her, eyes wide.
The soldier stood about a foot taller than Natasha. Closely-cropped dark brown hair topped an angular, but not unpleasant face. His sand-colored camouflage uniform hung loosely on him, as if it was made for someone bigger. The duffel bag was at his feet and still bore the imprint of his head from when he'd been using it as a pillow. Her attention was drawn to his dirty hands, which kept opening and closing.