Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure) (24 page)

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Chapter 1
7

The blue pickup truck came to a slow stop out the front of Ransom’s Fresh Meat as Gideon could be seen inside getting ready to open the diner for business. It was still early morning and the main street of The Dustbowl was almost deserted.

“Okay Lucy I need you to stay in the
truck, keep the doors locked and keep your windows closed. Do not unlock the doors for anyone but me, do you understand? And keep your head down, don’t let anyone see you,” Miles said in a low, serious voice.

“But it’s hot, can’t I leave the window open just a little?”
asked Lucy squirming uncomfortably in the heat, squishing herself down on the floor of the passenger’s side.

“I’m sorry but you have to k
eep them closed, no matter what. I will only be a couple of minutes okay?” said Miles placing a firm hand on Lucy’s shoulder.

“Okay,” she said, a little deflated
, “but don’t be long, please, I’m scared,” her little eyebrows furrowed in fear. Miles put his hand gently on the top of her head again and smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only be gone a couple of minutes, everything will be fine,” he looked deep into her eyes reassuringly and then quickly hopped out of the truck
, he heard Lucy lock the doors behind him. He began making his way toward the front door of the diner, his revolver tucked into his trousers, his heart pounding wildly.

‘Alright Miles just keep cool, stick to the plan and everything will be fine, no one
needs to get hurt.’

“Miles my boy,” yelled Gideon jovially, holding open the door of the diner and beckoning Miles inside
, “you look a changed man Miles, I can see it in yer eyes, you did the deed, you made yer first kill!” Miles felt his chest tighten as he listened to Gideon congratulate him for killing his only son.

“This calls for a celebration, I knew you had it in ya! Now where’s that bottle of black label.” Miles took a seat at the table nearest the
cash register as Gideon exited the diner to fetch the alcohol from his room. Once Gideon had left the room, Miles looked toward the cash register. It was too risky to attempt to get his savings from the scullery without raising proverbial alarm bells. He kept his earnings in a lock box above the pantry, the only way to reach it was with Gideon’s step ladder, which Gideon kept in his quarters. Miles knew he needed money if he was to make a run for it, and the safest and quickest way to get some was to raid the register and high tail it out of there before Gideon caught on to the fact that his son was dead.

‘Okay Miles just grab the cash and get ou
t of here.’ Looking toward the door that separated the diner from the scullery Miles stood up and took two steps toward the register. He was now close enough to open it up and grab whatever amount was inside. Slowly he moved his hand toward the button that opened the tray, but was startled by the sound of Gideon re-entering the room. Miles quickly leaned against the counter inconspicuously and acted natural, running his hands through his lengthening dark hair.

‘My G
od that was close!’ Miles thought to himself, his mouth as dry as the crimson desert itself.

Gideon sat down at the table placing three shot glasses and a half full bottle of amber spirit on the
wooden surface.

“Take a seat Miles. Say where’s that boy of mine anyway?” Gideon asked, still smiling.

“He asked me to drop him off at The Rusty Anchor on the way in,” Miles lied convincingly.

“Ha!” Gideon laughed loudly
, “yup that’d be right. Oh well let’s enjoy a shot anyway, I hope he don’t get so drunk he can’t take orders, we open in twenty minutes!” Gideon held out a full shot glass to Miles, “here, drink up. You done well kid, I’m glad to keep ya on workin’ here!” Miles took the glass and swallowed down the fiery liquid. It burned down his dry throat and all the way down into his empty stomach. Gideon let out a satisfied “Ahhh” and slammed his shot glass onto the table.

“Well,” he said standing up
, “better get to work, these burgers ain’t gonna make ‘emselves.” He began to swiftly walk toward the entrance of the diner in order to grab the body and bring it to the freezer. Miles jumped to his feet.

“I’ll move the body!”
he shouted louder than he wanted to, startling Gideon, as his heart raced like crazy. “I-I mean, I made the kill, I should carry it to the freezer.” Miles’s couldn’t have come up with a weaker argument if he tried.

“Don’t be stupid Miles,” Gideon laughed now opening the door
, “there’s dishes need washing, can’t serve food on a dirty plate, hop to it boy!”

‘Oh shit, this is bad.’ Miles began to tremble as he watched Gideon walk toward the truck. ‘If he spots Lucy we’re screwed, if that sack comes loose we’re dead!’ Gideon strolled passed the cab not bothering to look inside and made his way to the back of the truck.
Gideon looked around to make sure no one was watching and then flipped up the green tarp covering the body. Miles took a massive gulp as he watched Gideon lean over and throw his son’s limp corpse over his right shoulder. He then made his way back into the diner and as he passed him on the way to the kitchen, Miles noticed that Jasper’s shoe was poking out the bottom of the sack behind Gideon. He almost fainted there and then, and wondered how much more his poor heart could take.

“What you standin’ round for, get your ass in the scullery, scrub them dishes!” Gideon shouted
, a little irritated now by Miles’ bizarre behaviour.

“Y-yes sir,” replied Miles and he followed Gideon through the steel door. Miles stopped in the scullery and began washing his hands. However as soon
as Gideon entered the kitchen and closed the door Miles hurried back to the diner.

‘Okay I have abou
t a minute until Gideon realises that’s his son in the bag and comes to kill me. I need to get that money now and I need to get the hell out of here!’ Miles rushed to the cash register slamming his hand down on the key pad, the tray flying out with a loud ding sound. He scooped up all the coins he could and stuffed them into his pockets. Grabbing the last of the change he began running to the front door as fast as he could. But as he reached the door a voice spoke behind him.

“Stop right there you son of a bitch,” said Gideon in a low, shaky voice. Miles
stopped, raised his hands and turned slowly. He saw his former boss, his face wet with tears and murder in his eyes. In his hands he held a double barrel shotgun which was cocked and ready to fire.

“I took you in, I fed you…” said Gideon in disgust
, spraying saliva half way across the room. He began making steps toward Miles who simply froze.

“
I treated you like my own, and this is how you repay me? You take away my only son? Jasper treated you like a brother since Emmet died, he showed you how to shoot, how to drive…” tears began streaming from Gideon’s chubby face, “how could you do it Miles? How could you…” Gideon raised the gun and prepared to fire. For the second time that morning Miles closed his eyes in defeated resignation.

‘I regret nothing. It’s true you fed me
Gideon, and kept me alive,’ Miles thought, awaiting his death, ‘for that I am honestly thankful. But I couldn’t watch Jasper kill a child. I regret nothing’.

“PAPA
!” the scream came from outside, both Miles and Gideon looked to see where it was coming from. Lucy had rolled the window down and was crying and screaming in response to the scene that unfolded before her eyes.

“What the fuck is that? What the hell is goin’ on here?”
shouted Gideon utterly confused by the little girl in the pickup. Taking advantage of Gideon’s momentary lapse in concentration Miles quickly pulled the pistol from his trousers and pointed it at Gideon’s heart.

“I’m sorry Gideo
n,” Miles whispered as Gideon made eye contact.

“Me too, Miles.”

Bang. The shot rang through the diner and out into the street waking up half of the residents of The Dustbowl who began shouting and hollering. Gideon lay dead on the floor of Ransom’s Fresh Meat as a thick pool of blood spread across the cold metal floor of the ex-Talos shuttle.

Suddenly Miles snapped back to reality, he turned to see people filling the street, some of whom were gathering around the pickup truck as Lucy trembled fearfully inside. He burst through the door of the diner and ran toward the truck.

“Everybody out of the fucking way or I
will
shoot!” shouted Miles angrily and the crowd backed away from the vehicle. He opened the driver’s side door and hopped in. Within a minute they had passed through the northern gate and were making their way hastily across the desert. Miles watched his rear view mirror closely for any signs that they were being followed but it appeared that they were not. He had killed the last two remaining Ransoms so there was no obvious threat from any of the other town folk, and as there was no sheriff in The Dustbowl there was no risk of being tracked by the law.

Miles gripped the wheel hard and stared straight ahead with unwavering determination. Lucy looked at Miles with concern but said nothing, sensing that it was best that he be left alone for now. Miles checked the rear view mirror again. The Dustbowl was no longer visible on the horizon.

‘Good bye Dustbowl, and good fucking riddance.’

Many hours passed with Miles barely taking his foot off the gas as they made their way across the red rocky surface. The sky began to darken and turn orange, night was coming. The sudden change snapped Miles out of his trance.

‘Crap. We need to sleep, we need to eat, drink.’

Miles slowed the truck suddenly, and drove a few metres off the dirt road to a large boulder that sat in the otherwise mostly flat, desert landscape. He parked the vehicle behind the giant rock so that it would be invisible to any others travelling the same road. Miles did not need any more attention today. He reached into the glove box and produced Jasper’s old canteen, filled with water.

“Here, take a sip,” he unscrewed the cap and handed it to Lucy who took a thirsty gulp.

“Ewww, it’s warm,” she said scrunching up her face. Miles giggled.

“I know Lucy, but it’s all we’ve got. Here give me a try,” Miles swallowed down about a quarter of the water contained in the canteen.

“Ahhh, see, it’s not so bad,” he said with a broad, but very tired smile. Lucy tried again, this time being brave and swallowing more of the tepid water. The sun was setting outside and the heat of the day was being replaced by the cool evening.

“I don’t have any food Lucy, I’m sorry. But tomorrow morning we’ll continue driving and we’re sure to find a town, or a store wh
ere we can get some yummy stuff,” Miles reassured her.

“That’s ok
ay, I’m not hungry anyway,” she smiled back. Miles knew it was a lie, she hadn’t eaten since she’d landed on Gyaros and he knew that he had to feed the girl soon.

The two of them sat and talked while the sun went down. He told her about Carthage and about his family. He told her stories of the fun he used to have
at the beach as a child, of Hesperides’ Garden and the grand video game arcades. She listened in awe at his tales, and at the end of each asking for, “just one more”. But when quizzed on her own past she clammed up. She genuinely could not remember a single detail, save for her own name. Miles guessed that perhaps she had sustained a head injury during the landing that caused the memory loss. But he could see no signs of any physical head trauma. He then thought that maybe she had witnessed something horrible and that was the reason for the repression. Whatever it was he couldn’t get anything out of her no matter what he asked.

“Brr
r, I’m cold,” Lucy said shivering a little.

“Yeah, it gets real
ly chilly out here at night. Let me grab the tarp from the back and we’ll sort out a bed for you.” Miles took the green tarp from the back of the truck and pulled the front seats down and toward the dashboard creating a flat surface. He then asked Lucy to lie down and he spread the tarp over her, tucking her in.

“You relax and get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you
need me, I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled and she smiled back before turning over and making herself as comfortable as she could. Miles double checked that the windows were shut and the doors were locked and then laid down the opposite way to Lucy and scrunched himself up until he fit. He wanted to stay awake and keep watch but the events of the day would not allow for that. He knew that there were wild beasts roaming the wastelands, hungry for whatever scraps of food they could find. Then there were the people. But as much as Miles wished he could keep an eye out that night, his eye lids had a different idea. Within minutes the two of them were sound asleep.

Miles woke up first with a start. He sat up straight suddenly remembering the events of the preceding day and the details of their current situation. He looked around. Squinting in the morning light, he scanned the inside of the truck and the wasteland outside. Everything appeared to be just as it was the night before. ‘Thank God’ he thought, ‘we made it thought the night.’ Lucy breathed lightly tucked snugly under the tarp, her eyes still closed. Miles was woken up multiple times during the night by Lucy’s kicking and thrashing, it was clear to Miles that she was suffering through a terrible dream. At one point he tried to wake her but it was no use. Eventually she calmed down and settled into the heavy rhythmic breathing that signified peaceful, deep sleep. She also muttered a number of words and phrases during her nightmare, “help me papa”, “please, it’s hurting me,” and “I won’t do it!” were all mumbled by Lucy a number of times during the long, cold night. Miles continued to look down at Lucy, his expression filled with concern.