Guns And Dogs (11 page)

Patrice’s stoic features remained focused on Dicer’s readings. “There’s something but it doesn’t make sense.”

Mitchell looked over her shoulder at the monitor. “Let’s hear it.”

“One word…Grendis.”

“Grendis? Doesn’t make sense,” Johnny said.

Patrice shot him a gruff look. “Just because something isn’t spelled out for you doesn’t mean it can’t be understood.”

Johnny wanted to fire back at her, but kept quiet.
Is there a reason why you’re so rude to me, Patrice?
He wondered.

“Relax, Patrice,” Director Mitchell said. “Johnny was thinking out loud.” He fed some data into another computer terminal before lights from the monitor flashed across his face. “Interesting.”

“What is it Otis?” Argos said.

“According to the computer, Grendis, is a name of Lycarian origin.”

“That confirms the connection.”

“Indeed. But just how deep that connection runs is another enigma.”

Johnny wracked his brain for an answer. “Perhaps Grendis is Dicer’s contact?”

“Or maybe you’re just spitting out random unproven theories to ingratiate yourself,” Patrice said.

“Hey, lay off him Patrice,” Argos said before Jessie and Studs snarled at Patrice. She shot the dogs a caliginous glance.

Director Mitchell cut in before the situation could escalate: “Patrice, why don’t you head back to AL headquarters, we’ll finish up here.” She nodded obediently at Director Mitchell before excusing herself.

“I’ve never seen her so emotional,” Mitchell said. “She’s under a lot of pressure. I know I’ve been working her really hard lately.”

Argos wasn’t convinced.

AL Command Center

Los Angeles, CA

“I’m starting to think she hates me,” Johnny said right after Gina returned to Earth. He was glad to be off Penal One. While impressive, the space prison’s orbit around Earth made him queasy every time he looked out of the command room’s viewport windows. “She’s always talking down to me; acting like she’s better than me, and she always has a smug-ass look on her face.”

“I don’t think she hates you Johnny. Remember what I told you before? Give it time. Keep being friendly, and work hard at AL. Eventually, you’ll earn her respect.”

Patrice was busy in the main computer room at AL headquarters, surrounded by computer terminals manned by tireless AL personnel. Johnny wondered if she ever slept, or ate for that matter. When she saw them enter she turned towards them.“I may have a lead on who Grendis is.”

“Let’s hear it,” Argos said. Both Jessie and Studs looked up at Patrice inquisitively.

“Take a look at this.” Patrice handed Argos a razor-thin tablet.

“According to this data Grendis is an Inciter working for the Lycarian Government.” Argos turned to Johnny and passed the tablet to him. “An Inciter is an agent who infiltrates other worlds and helps destabilize governments—making them easier to topple.”

Both Jessie and Studs barked. Johnny smiled. The dogs were always eager to chime in with canine vernacular. He only wished he could understand it.

“I believe the Lycarians are trying to alter Earth’s timeline,” Patrice added. “They may be trying to add Earth to their sphere of influence.”

“Is that what TimeBoss says?”

Johnny remembered learning about TimeBoss during his training: The awe-inspiring Mega-Computer that could detect changes in the timeline. He longed to see it up close, but would his junior AL clearance get him in?

“I was about to go to TimeBoss’ chamber, care to join me?”

Argos nodded. Johnny held his breath and waited. “Johnny you stay here with Jessie and Studs, we’ll be back in a hour or so.”

Johnny nodded, while concealing his dejection. He could’ve sworn he saw a twinkle of amusement in Patrice’s eyes. After she and Argos left the room both Jessie and Studs licked his hand and nuzzled his leg. He eyed the dogs and smiled. “Well, looks like we’ve got some quality time with one another.”

Not being able to join Argos and Patrice hurt. Not only because he wanted to see TimeBoss, but it made him feel like the kid on the basketball court who was never picked by a team.

His wounded pride was not the only thing troubling him. Memories of Maria’s departure resurfaced in his mind. He wondered if he’d ever get over her leaving for Europe to pursue her dream. He left the control room, Jessie and Studs following him loyally, and headed for the fitness center. He had an hour to kill, and this was the best way to do it.

After changing into his tracksuit, he found a pair of boxing gloves and started pounding a punching bag while the Dobermans watched with interest. He pretended the bag was Patrice and let loose on it. Soon his arms felt sore, but it was a good feeling and soon his anger abated. Sweat clung to his back as he continued pummeling the bag. The faster he punched the more Jessie and Studs would egg him on with their barking. But for some reason, he could not get Maria out of his head. It was as if her face was branded into his memory. Staring at a television monitor that was tuned to CNN, he wondered how she was doing, and where she was in Europe. He was so dazed by his thoughts that he didn’t hear Jessie and Studs’ barking, welcoming a newcomer into the fitness room.

“Johnny?”

He turned around. It was Argos. “When I couldn’t locate you in the computer room I thought I might find you here. Looks like I guessed right.”

Johnny eyed his wristlink and noticed that almost two hours had elapsed since he’d begun his workout. “Sorry Argos, I must’ve lost track of time.”

Argos grinned. “That’s alright, looks like you had a lot on your mind.”

Johnny wiped his face with a towel. “How so?”

“I’ve been known to come here to blow off some excess steam. I’m just glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that punching bag.”

“Did you learn anything from TimeBoss?”

Argos shook his head and sat down. “Not yet, but if anything crops up TimeBoss will find it. Sorry we couldn’t let you come with us, but you’re not cleared yet.”

“No need for apologies Argos, I understand. Besides, Jessie and Studs kept me company.” He resumed his boxing. Johnny’s knuckles were sore but he kept at it. Trying to punch Maria’s image out of his head.

“You wanna talk, Johnny?”

Johnny stopped. “What makes you think I wanna talk?”

Argos grinned sheepishly. “I raised two kids, son, I think I know when a teenager has a lot on his mind. C’mon what’s the matter?”

“Ohh, a lot actually. I don’t know where to start though.”

Argos took turns scratching Jessie and Studs’ behind their ears. “The beginning is usually the best place to start.

A day before he met Argos, Jessie and Studs, Johnny had a premonition that something very bad was going to happen in his life.

Inside his bedroom, he looked up at the ceiling fan and saw his life spinning out of control. First his father’s disappearance, then his declining grades, and now his girlfriend taking a hiatus from their relationship. Maybe permanently. He wanted to call her but that would make him look needy. But he was needy, he needed her to stay.

He opened the window to his bedroom and looked out. He felt like he’d stuck his head in an oven. The sky was tinted beige where the white Arizona sun serenaded his face with bright rays. Rain came seldom in Phoenix, and he wished today it was in the forecast. He looked around at his neighborhood. Apart from a group of kids tossing a football in a front yard the area was devoid of human activity. Their loud chatters echoed throughout the neighborhood and Johnny wished he could share their carefree mood.

He returned to his room and slumped into his desk chair. He realized he had an appointment this evening with Dr. Fields, the shrink his mother had found for him. But he really hadn’t helped. He urged Johnny to be positive and spouted all sorts of other feel-good crap. Must be nice to make good money feeding people lies, he thought.

On top of his desk he saw a box-cutter and ran his finger down its side. He’d forgotten how he’d come to own one. But there it was. For a moment a strange thought crossed his mind and he tried his best to force it from his head. But it returned and he felt helpless.

Dr. Fields had given him a prescription of anti-depressants, sometimes he took them, and sometimes he didn’t. He had a feeling they were placebos instead of salvation from his negative thoughts. Why did doctors always feel the need to preach crap to teens? Instead of helping me get rid of my problems, Dr. Fields tries to make me forget them. Seemed like the whole world was out to get him. First by taking his father away from him and his mother, then his girlfriend. He wondered what calamity would befall him next.

A framed picture of him and his father stared back at him from the top of his dresser. He picked it up and rekindled the memory of when it was taken. Little League. Those were happy times. He placed the picture back on the dresser and pocketed the box cutter. Why he decided to do that wasn’t quite clear. At least not yet. He grabbed his Jeep keys and stuffed them into his front pocket.

He went downstairs into the kitchen. His mother had left him a note on the refrigerator that she was called into work today on her day off. He envied her, at least she had something to take her mind off her troubles. He didn’t have that luxury.

His backpack, filled with coursework, waited for him in the corner of the laundry room. He hadn’t finished any of his homework, and tomorrow he had a physics test in Mr. Garrett’s class. “Screw that.” He entered the garage, started his Jeep and took off down the main road that cut through his neighborhood, passing a series of cul-de-sacs that made up his community.

“Where am I going?” he asked himself. The truth was he didn’t know. It was an aimless drive, just short of being a joyride. Except joy was the furthest thing from his mind. He sped down West Northern Avenue, passing the suburbs of Peoria and Glendale, two of the largest suburbs of Phoenix. He thought about visiting his friend Fred who lived nearby, but then realized he’d be at school right now. The irony of the situation made him clench his fist and pound it against his steering wheel, accidentally setting off the Jeep’s horn.

In his rearview mirror he noticed a police cruiser trailing him. He turned his attention back to the road, trying not to attract too much attention. A few seconds later he saw flashing lights in his driver side mirror. “Damn! This is the last thing I need today!”

Johnny felt like flooring the jeep, to try and distance himself and the cruiser. But he knew that would only cause more problems, and he really didn’t need to add more trouble to his burgeoning list of woes.

He slowed down and pulled into the parking lot of a gas station. The cruiser followed him like a shadow before pulling up right behind him. He took out of his license and pulled out a bent copy of his vehicle registration.

After waiting ten minutes. Yes. Ten minutes. The officer stepped out of his cruiser and slowly made his way to the driver side window. Johnny looked up at the officer who stared back at him solemnly behind black Ray-Bans. “You in a hurry son?” he asked.

“No, sir.” Not knowing how else to answer such a clichéd question. This is probably what they ask everyone they pull over. “I was trying to get to school,” he lied, hoping the cop wouldn’t see through the deception. He’d forgotten his backpack at home, but would the officer notice that?

“Let me see your license and registration, son.”

Johnny handed it over. At this point he didn’t care about getting a ticket, he just wanted to get away from this cop and be on his way, wherever that was.

The police officer strolled back to his cruiser. Inside the jeep, Johnny felt like hours had gone by before he returned. “You’re clear, son,” the officer said, giving back the license and registration. “But try driving more carefully next time, Mr. Veto.” He handed Johnny a yellow slip which he recognized as a warning.

As Johnny pulled his wallet out of his front pocket to put the warning slip inside it, the box cutter slipped out and dropped into his lap. The officer, with his trained eyes, immediately noticed it. “Can I ask why you’re carrying a box cutter son?”

I wish you’d stop calling me son, you stupid pig. He cursed his luck and grabbed the box cutter before trying to jam it back into his pocket. “Ohh, I had totally forgotten that I had it on me, officer.” It was the second lie he had told the cop.

“Why don’t you step out of the Jeep, son.”

Johnny felt a painful jolt in his stomach. Like someone had stuck him with a knife. “Why? Is there a problem.”

“There won’t be a problem if you do as I say, son.”

I’m not you’re freaking son, piglet. He had no other choice but to do as he was told. He stepped out of his jeep, slowly. “Back away from the vehicle, son.”

“I still don’t get what this is all about?”

Raise your hands above your head.

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

Johnny complied and raised his hands. The officer started patting him down. He felt the cop’s hands over his front pocket, right where he’d stuffed the box cutter, before it was taken away from him. “I’ll ask again, why are you carrying a box cutter?”

“Didn’t I just tell you?”

“A smart mouth huh?” The cop smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. More condescending than kind. “Last chance, kid.”

“What? Not gonna call me ‘son’ this time?”

The officer grabbed Johnny by his collar and spun him around before pushing him against the hood of the Jeep. “What the hell is this shit?”

“It’s called resisting arrest…son!”

Johnny wondered what might’ve set off the cop. He hadn’t done anything headlong. He smelled the cop’s minty breath as he struggled. I’ll be damned if I get arrested for just speaking out for myself, he thought. He felt the weight of the trooper applying something on his wrists as cold metal greeted his skin. He summoned a last gasp of strength before nailing the officer in the shin with the heel of his shoe. A loud squawk escaped from the officer's lips and Johnny felt his grip loosen. He lashed out again, this time with his elbow, almost smashing the officer’s nose. The Ray-Bans had fallen off the officer’s face, revealing two vulture-like eyes. Johnny knew he was in a boatload of trouble. There goes my spotless record.