Henchmen (6 page)

“You never went drinking in the boonies?” I ask, incredulous.

“What the hell are boonies?  And, no, I never had to go anywhere to go drinking and partying.  In high school we just went to each other’s houses.  In college, well, fuck, it was Vegas, most of the city was a party.”

“It was a lot easier to see them before all the pollution, but it’s still an impressive sight.” Eve says.

We all sit and stare at the sky for a while.  There’s something about the stars at night, in a place where you can actually see them, that’s peaceful.  It’s almost like the sky is so big that no matter what your problems might be, they’re completely trivial.  Boss yelled at you?  Wife left you for a rodeo clown?  Your mayoral campaign is in the shitter because you can’t stop texting pictures of your dick to women half your age?  Look at the stars for a while and it’s, like, so fucking what?

Eve takes a pull of her beer.  “Jessica, we should go see if we can find your dad tomorrow.”

“I’ve got his address on an old postcard in my bag.”  She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes.  “Can I ask you guys something?”

I shrug, Eve says, “Of course.”

“Why’d you guys save me?”

And there it is.  I asked it, Jacob asked it, I suspect Frank and Jean asked it.  Eve has her reasons; usually it involves seeing something she needs in each of us.  She’s very cagey about what she sees or why it’s important, though.  I’ve pressed her on it before but she won’t give me a straight answer.  I guess it’s a job and I don’t have to get dressed up to do it, so it can’t be all bad.

“A little voice told me we needed you. I’m not sure why just yet. I’m just sure we need you,” Eve says.

“Like some psychic thing?” Jessica asks.

“Kind of, I guess.  I don’t know how to describe it.”

“This may sound strange, but I had dreams about you.  Or hell, maybe it wasn’t you.”  She’s nervous now.  “I’ve just had dreams about someone like the two of you and Jacob.  Kind of in the shadows, but definitely you guys.  There’s fire, and screaming, and I was laughing.”

“You’ve got to be careful with dreams and visions,” Eve says.  “Sometimes you’re seeing a future, but sometimes you’re just seeing something, and you end up finding a way to make it happen.  There was a cop up in Santa Fe a few years ago, decent guy, a bit of psychic prowess that he had no idea he had.  He started having dreams about a guy shooting him.  He kept seeing this guy’s rage-filled eyes and the guy is screaming and pointing a gun at our cop friend.

“Well, one day while he’s patrolling, he sees this guy driving around, and he just knows he has to follow him - see what he’s up to.  I doubt this was a totally conscious choice, but he can’t stop, so he follows him around all day.  Now, I don’t know about you, but you notice it when a cop is following you around all day. The guy just goes home and waits.

“Next day the cop finds him and follows him again.  The guy confronts the cop.  ‘What’s going on?’ Cop pulls the normal cop stuff: ‘You don’t need to worry about it.’  But the cop backs off and stops following the guy for the rest of the day.

“Next day, cop follows guy again.  The guy’s getting sick of this now, so he calls the police station to ask what’s going on.  ‘Nothing, as far as we know.  We’ll ask the officer.’  So the cop gets called on the carpet, ‘Why are you following this guy around?’ No answer.  ‘Fine, knock it off.’

“So the cop stops, but it keeps eating at him, so he starts stalking around on his own time, using his own car.

“Eventually, of course, the guy notices this cop is still following him and starts to get paranoid.  He buys a gun because he’s convinced this cop is out to get him.  In New Mexico, your glove box is legally a part of your house. Meaning you can keep a gun in it. So this guy’s driving around, like most people in this state, packing a gun.

“Finally, after about two weeks of this, the poor guy is completely strung out.  He’s got a cop following him around, waiting outside his house, driving him nuts.  He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He’s losing it.  He walks out one morning, and there’s our cop down the street, waiting for the guy to go to work. The cop doesn’t know this guy hasn’t been to work in a week because he can’t focus on anything.  Guy walks out to his car, opens the glove box and pulls out the biggest freaking gun our cop has ever seen, and heads toward the cop, gun raised screaming and ranting.

“Cop climbs out of his car. The guy starts shooting. Unfortunately, like most idiots who buy guns to feel safe, he’s never learned to shoot, so he misses every shot.  Manages to shoot the neighbor’s cat, blows out a window, puts a hole through someone’s mailbox, and never comes near the cop.  The cop, naturally, knows how to shoot and fires two shots, one to the chest, one to the head: both hit.

“Bam, bam.  This cop shoots this guy, claims self-defense, gets off scot-free.”

“Jesus,” Jessica says.

“Yeah.  Had he never had that dream in the first place, the dream would’ve never come true, because the cop wouldn’t have put events in motion to make it come true.  Sure, he saw the future, but he also made the future happen.  If you’ve been dreaming about us and fires, you may be seeing the future, but you may be seeing a future you make.”

“Not that we’d mind laughing while the world burns,” I add.

I yawn.  Beer and burgers always make me sleepy. 

I never expected to become a morning person but somehow, against all odds, it snuck up on me.  I actually enjoy getting up early in the morning.  Drink some coffee, smoke a cigarette, enjoy the quiet.  My email volume has dropped off significantly since I fell off the radar, but I still keep getting email about how I can increase both my bust size and my penis size.  I’m sure they’re totally legit.  If I thought any of that crap would actually work, I’d buy a whack of both types of pills, and drop them in random coffees at Starbucks.

It’s 6 a.m. and everyone will probably be asleep for a while, so I go outside and enjoy my coffee in peace.  In a few minutes I hear rattling around inside the kitchen, and Jessica sticks her head out the door.

“Where are the coffee cups?” she asks.

“Above the sink,” I say.  “Milk’s in the fridge, there’s sugar in a canister on the toaster oven.”

Jessica comes back out in a few minutes, coffee in hand, wearing one of Eve’s shirts, which fits her like a dress.  Her eyes are red and bleary and her hair is sticking out in about a dozen different directions.  She plops down in a chair next to me and sighs as she smells the fresh coffee.

There goes my quiet morning.

“Sleep okay?” I ask.

“Like the drunken fool I was when I went to bed,” she replies.

“Nothing like alcohol-fueled crashing.”

We sit in silence for a while, watching the sun coming up over the Sandias.  As it comes up, the shadow of the mountains shrinks over the city until the whole of Albuquerque is lit up.  It’s not a gorgeous town, but this place is home.  Plus it’s got a great view of the mountains.

“Can I ask you something?” Jessica asks.

“Sure,” I say.

“What’s up with Eve?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Jessica says slowly, like she’s not quite sure how to phrase the question. “Who is she?”

“Ah.  I’m not entirely sure who or even what she is.  I’ve asked her several times but she never really answers me.  I don’t know much about her.  She’s bullet proof, smart, and I get the feeling there’s a lot she’s not telling anyone.”

“Doesn’t that worry you?” Jessica asks, shifting to face me.  “I mean, here you are doing God only knows what and you don’t even really know who you’re working for or what she really wants.”

“I know what she wants, at least in the short term.”

“What’s that?”

“She wants to tear the country to ground and let it rebuild itself.”

Jessica stares at me in wild-eyed disbelief.  She starts to say something, thinks again, sips her coffee and stares into space for a while.

“How is she going to tear down the country?”

“We’re planning on killing Congress.”

“What?”

“Kill Congress and let the country regenerate itself.”

“How is killing Congress going to tear down the country?” Jessica asks.

“They make the laws, set the policies.  The laws and policies drive the country.  Take all that away and someone or something will have to step in and fill the void.  The country will survive.  It’ll hurt but we’ll survive.”

“You’re insane.”

I can’t argue that point.  “I am, but not in the way you’re thinking.  All we really want to do is tear out some corruption.”

“And take over yourselves.”

“No way.  Absolutely not.  Way too much work.  Someone else can step in and try their hand at it.”

“So, you’re going to kill Congress and walk away.  That’s your evil plan?”

“Good and evil depend a lot on who wins.  Winners are good guys, losers are bad guys.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” she mumbles into her cup.

“Eve thought you were important, that’s good enough for me,” I tell her.

“Does the bus come out here?”

“Sorry, no.  I’ll give you a ride into town if you want, though.”

There’s more rattling around, and Jean and Frank come out.  Frank only drinks tea; Jean drinks copious amounts of coffee.  They’re both a bit bedraggled, and neither of them is a morning person even under the best of circumstances.

Looks like everyone’s getting up early today.

Jean gives his usual wave and a somewhat cheery, “Good morning.”

Jessica nods at him and watches the rest of the gang warily.

“Everything okay?” Frank asks her.  “You did show her where the coffee is, right?”

I nod and point to her cup.

“We have tea, too, if you’d prefer.”

“I’m fine,” Jessica tells him.

“Please tell me you haven’t been talking to Steven,” Frank says.

Jessica looks at me and back at Frank.

“Oh, dear God.  I’m so sorry,” he tells her.

“What’s wrong with me?” I ask.

“You probably terrified her, that’s what.”  Frank puts on his best safe and innocent expression.  “We’re not bad people and you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.  We’re on something of a mission and if you’d like to join us we’d love to have you.”

“He told me about the mission,” she says with a grimace.  “Do you guys honestly think you can kill Congress?”

Eve saunters out wearing her black shirt that says “Super Villain” on the front and “Grovel, Fools!” on the back.  She used to wear that around town, and most people thought it was cute or funny.  A couple thought she was a dominatrix.  The real joke is on them, although I doubt she’d make anyone grovel.  Toss them around like dolls; rip their cars apart; hire people to steal their money; sure. But she’s not into groveling.  Or making people grovel.

“I absolutely think we can kill Congress,” Eve says.  “Not only do I think we can, I think we need to.”

“Why?” Jessica asks her.

“My offer of a ride still stands,” I say.  “Just say the word.”

“Ignore him for now.  I’ll drive you anywhere you want anytime you want, but let me ask you something first.”

Jessica watches Eve warily, nods, and says, “Okay, ask away.”

“What do you know about your dad?”

“He worked for some government research facility, lost it somewhere along the line and disappeared.”

“What’s his name?” I ask.

“Delano.  Delano Hayha,” Jessica says.

“Okay.  Do you have a last address?” Eve asks

Jessica nods.  “It’s on a postcard, along with a message that said ‘Be careful dreaming’, why?”

“I’ll make you a deal.  You don’t owe us anything; I just want to make that clear.  If you decide to walk away right now, we won’t say or do a thing.  But, I said we’d help you out however we could and I aim to keep that promise.  You could have bolted off into the night and told the first cop you met who we were and what we’d done and you didn’t.  We’re thankful for that.  I’m thankful for that.  If you want, we can help find out what happened to your dad,” Eve tells her.

Jessica ponders the offer.  I can see the wheels turning in her head.  On the one hand, she thinks we’re all nuts.  On the other, she’s seen us work.  She nods and says, “Okay.  I’ll take your offer.”

“Excellent,” Eve says.  “Find your dad, don’t find your dad, we’ll help you out.  If, after we’ve found out whatever we can, you still want to leave, I’ll understand.  I’ll even buy you a car and fill it with gas.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jessica says.

“You didn’t have to keep quiet,” Eve replies

“Fair enough,” Jessica says.  “Where do we start?”

“Breakfast is probably the best bet.  Steven makes a hell of a breakfast and then he’ll take you wherever you want to go,” Eve says.  Then she points at me and says, “You do what needs to be done, take her around and make sure she gets back safe.”

“You got it, boss,” I tell Eve.

“What’s for breakfast?” Jean asks.

“She’s the guest,” I say, pointing at Jessica.  “Her choice.”

“Coffee’s fine,” Jessica says with a blush.

“French toast it is,” I say.  “If that’s okay with you.”

Jessica actually smiles and says, “French toast would be great.  How can I help?”

“I’m a lone wolf in the kitchen,” I tell her.  “You can help by enjoying your coffee.”