Redemption Road (4) (1000 hits)
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Rating: 2 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2006-01-13 19:19:55 EST
Redemption Road
Redemption Road (1) http://www.ubersite.com/m/79291
Redemption Road (2) http://www.ubersite.com/m/81591
Redemption Road (3) http://www.ubersite.com/m/81716
4- Addison and Allen
The bus had been rolling down the empty highway for three days when Tim finally saw movement in the night on the shoulder of the road.
Those riding the bus spent most of the time sleeping, or in quiet conversation. Too much talk led to questions of where they were and how they got here. That was talk few of them were ready to deal with. Not enough talk left them to gnaw the same bones alone.
They had all agreed on one matter. They would continue driving night and day. There was nothing on the road. They were all hoping the road had an end, an end not quite as barren as what they had seen so far.
They had not yet run out of gas, which was a good thing, because they weren't going to be passing any 76 stations out here. The fact that the gauge on the dash was busted no longer worried them. Whatever was keeping the gas tank full was also behind that endless trickle of tepid water from the Coleman jug in the back of the bus.
Tim was happy to doze in the back of the bus during the day and drive at night. His sleep amounted to a long series of naps in the rear of the bus (most often interrupted by Robbie asking him questions or by Garvin bitching), but he seemed to be handling it well. During one stop to piss and stretch their legs, Tim had approached Addison and asked if he could drive after the sun went down.
"I don't like the night," the kid had said, with a shrug of embarrassment.
"Before I had the inside lights on all night long. With other people here, it isn't as bad as before. At least I have the headlights on, and enough to keep me busy so I don't worry about... stuff."
Addison didn't want to pry. If the kid opened up it would be in his own good time. The kid was holding up batter than the windbag from Chicago, and he was doing an incredible job of watching over the little girl.
Addison had gestured at Tim's clothes. "Does this dislike of the dark have anything to do with that?"
Tim had responded with a quick nod, and looked away.
Addison was now staring out the window from his usual seat. He couldn't sleep. He had a nightmare. It was simple, but it horrified him and had catapulted him out of sleep.
A little boy had been standing in front of an open window. Addison was nearby in the same room, unable to move. The boy turned over a metal wastebasket and climbed up onto the windowsill.
Addison turned and saw faces on the other side of the door, people looking into the room, a room in a hospital. There were cops and nurses and an agonized man and woman, the boy's parents.
The little boy leaned forward, and just before he dropped five stories to the parking lot below he smiled, and spoke.
"Addy told me this is the best thing to do," the boy in the dream said, and then he was gone, and iron bars slammed into place over the window and the door, and Addison had snapped awake.
Robbie was curled on one side, sleeping in the dark across the aisle from Addison. One of her little shoes had fallen off and was lying on the floor. She was in the seat right behind Tim, who looked much older in the faint glow of the few lights still working on the dashboard.
Maybe Tim's the smartest one here, Addison thought. It's a hell of a lot cooler at night, and he sleeps when the heat of the day is making the rest of us lethargic.
The boy still looked uneasy, but his eyes were sharp and alert as he watched the road. Addison could only imagine how scared the kid must have been out here all alone. Yet somehow, he had kept it together.
Unlike Garvin. The Chi-Town big shot was afraid to step off the bus to take a leak, and although he acted like as much of an arsehole as possible, he still didn't want to be alone.
Yesterday Addison had been squatting behind a shitwall after feeling some cramping and rumbling in his guts, when he had glanced over his shoulder and saw Garvin standing right there.
A shitwall was what the adults called any off-road feature that offered a little privacy, usually a low wall of scrub brush. Shitwalls were called privies in front of Robbie.
It was understood that you didn't violate anyone's privacy when they were doing their business.
"Why don't you take off that tie?" Addison had asked. "If I see any action in the next few minutes I'll have to wipe, and I don't want to use a stone."
Addison was referring to the fact that none of them had eaten in days, and none of them had moved their bowels in days. They drank water and passed it as sweat and piss, but they didn't shit because they weren't eating.
They weren't eating, but weren't nearly as hungry as they should have been.
At one point or another everyone had offered their explanation of the where and the why and the how.
Julianne said they were all in some sort of shock.
Addison wondered if this whole thing wasn't some elaborate dream. Hell, he'd been dreaming up ludicrous shit like this for years and paying down his mortgage with the profits.
Robbie was with Addison, having told Tim she hoped it was all a bad dream.
Whippet had laughed it all off, saying that he was probably lying in a puddle of puke somewhere and sleeping off what he described as a "Bad-ass trip down freak-out road."
Tim had whispered that the newspapers said Whippet had addiction problems, and Addison had told Tim he'd gathered as much.
Garvin insisted, without going into detail, that this was all a plot against him, saying the word 'plot' the way some people said 'shit' only after stepping in it, making the T on the end of the word sound like a separate syllable.
ploh-TIH!
Garvin's belligerence and paranoia were nothing compared to the chills that had raced up and down Addison's spine when he had asked Tim for the teenager's take on things.
"I think we're being punished," Tim had said. He had said it plainly, without gravity or glibness, as if saying something as simple as 'the sky is blue.'
When Addison had asked if he could use Garvin's tie as asswipe the lawyer had frowned and looked at the barren ground under Addison's pale white ass as if needing to see some concrete results before even considering the request.
Addison passed a fart of considerable foulness, realized that was all that was coming, and then stood and pulled up his khakis.
"What the hell is wrong with you," he asked Garvin, "Do you have some sort of fetish?"
Garvin turned a deep red, half anger and half shame, and said, "I don't want to be left alone."
"Well then," Whippet had called out, his boots kicking up dust as he stopped a few yards away and took a piss, "Stop actin' like such a fuckin' jerkoff."
Garvin had stomped back to the bus like an angry child and yelled, "I know what's happening here! It's all a setup and you are all part of the ploh-TIH! Especially you, Addison. I know who you are and who you used to be and what you did. Keep pushing me and I'll tell everyone!"
Garvin was nuts, crazier than Whippet, if possible... or at least more dangerous than Whippet.
With Whippet you knew where you stood.
When Garvin had once stepped on Whippet's foot heading down the aisle of the bus the Tennessean had drawled, "You do that dance-step one more time, Slick, and I'm gonna rabbit-punch your ballsack."
With Garvin... you just didn't know.
The lawyer had paused in his quest for the water jug in the back of the bus and had looked at Whippet not with hatred or contempt or rage, or even fear. It was the momentary lack of expression that had spooked Addison, and he could almost hear the breakers being reset as awareness came back into Garvin's eyes.
Insulted by whippet once again, Garvin had stomped away from the shitwall and up onto the bus.
Whippet had asked what that was all about, and Addison had blown it off... but he knew. He knew, and Garvin knew too.
Now Addison was sitting wide awake, watching yellow light flicker on the road ahead as the right headlight stuttered.
Garvin snorted in his sleep.
Further back, Whippet and Julianne spoke in half heard, sleepy voices.
Murmurs, and, "Any time, darling."
Followed by, "Oh, just hush and go to sleep."
I didn't do anything wrong, Addison told himself.
The world had seen it differently.
He thought the world had forgotten him over the last twenty years.
The more Addison thought about it, the more he was sure that Garvin's law firm was one of many that had tried to portray him as a murderer.
The parents of the little boy who had gone out the window had hired a lot of lawyers, from the northeast and the Midwest. Addison had never been able to sort out all the names. Brand, Ellings, Schilinovsky. They could be one of the many.
Jesus, Addison thought.
"Hey, Mr. Addison."
Tim snuck a look over one shoulder and Addison got to his feet.
"Someone up ahead," the boy said.
The last sign they had passed had referred to a trial for one of nine, thirty miles ahead. That had been three days ago. Whoever was up ahead would become the seventh person on the bus.
Addison couldn't decide if that gave them a few days to relax, or if he should expect something as horrific as Lockheart's death, any moment now.
*
The man was Dick Allen.
His name, and a weak, 'Thank God,' were all the man said that night.
He was a slight, prematurely balding man of about thirty, with thinning sandy hair and pale brown eyes. His windbreaker and button-down shirt were covered in dust, and there was bloody tear in one knee of his Dockers.
As Whippet and Addison had approached the man the stranger nearly collapsed on the road, staggering as if he were drunk. They had walked him onto the bus and after catching him when he stumbled and fell in the aisle, they eased him into Addison's seat.
While Garvin sputtered about the interruption in their journey Addison got the man some water and Julianne had looked him over, saying he was suffering from exhaustion and dehydration.
"My name is Dick Allen," he said in a raw whisper between sips of warm water. "Thank God you found me. Thank God."
"Just rest," Julianne said, brushing away some of the sweat and dust caked on his face. "You're safe now, and we can talk in the morning. Just get some rest now."
The man curled up on his side. He was a small guy, and by tucking in his legs he was able to lie on the seat with only his shoes hanging over the edge.
Tim started the bus and got them moving down the road. Julianne took the seat behind Allen so she could check on him from time to time.
Addison sat a few rows back, across from Whippet, who asked with marked indignation, "Well, who in the hell am I gonna hit on now?"
Barely awake after all the commotion, Robbie looked over the edge of the seat for her missing shoe, briefly wondering where it had gone before giving up the search
Dick Allen ran his tongue over his dry and cracked lips.
"Are you all right?"
With an effort Allen raised his head up off the seat and saw the little girl across the aisle.
"Yes, I am now," he said.
"Okay," Robbie said. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he replied, a slight smile forming on his lips as the little girl put her head down and fell asleep.
He put his head down and closed his eyes.
I'm fine now, he thought, still smiling. Just fine.
He reached under his windbreaker and touched the little girl's shoe, tucked under his arm.
I'm just fine and dandy now, he thought, before drifting off to sleep.
User Reviews
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2008-05-09 14:27:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2007-11-06 20:05:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is such a cool concept overall. So many different ways it could go. I think this would make a good movie.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-03-30 07:15:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice, creepy ending to this story, though I think you pressed the point a little too bluntly with the last line. It would have had more of a subtle crawl to it without repeating the "I'm just fine and dandy now" bit.
Submitted by Falconer (user info) at 2006-03-28 17:40:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Love this series...keep it up!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-03-28 16:57:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Part Five is just down the road...
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2006-01-19 14:34:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i've been looking forward to these. but now after that last bit i'm hoping you don't get too graphic before half the bus beats up or kill allen.
Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2006-01-19 13:55:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-01-19 08:40:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2006-01-17 14:20:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by horse87 (user info) at 2006-01-14 00:40:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2006-01-13 23:29:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Phate (user info) at 2006-01-07 02:52:53 (#)
Ranking: 1
Pedophiles are fucking immature assholes
Submitted by jagmcmanus (user info) at 2006-01-13 22:27:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-01-13 22:14:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
posh.
Submitted by FuckTheArmy (user info) at 2006-01-13 22:12:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-01-13 20:38:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
fucking good read.
and i definitely took the time to read this before going out to the bar.
feel privileged.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-01-13 19:35:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
somehow i missed half of this series, but i believe they are all dead and some don't know it yet?
na na na naaaa...na na na naaaa