>4 DAYS AGO...///

Ava squinted her eyes, both against the bright light of the noon day sun and tried to make out any of the businesses she was walking passed. She had found her way out of the alley after what felt like twenty nerve wracking minutes of taking random twists and turns.

Each new alleyway had filled her with increasing panic as it just felt like she was becoming more and more lost. Finally she had made it onto the sidewalk, no sounds of blaring metal music telling her she was probably a decent distance from the bar. But that sense of dread and panic didn’t lessen as she walked along as best she could in the too big shoes.

She knew she was probably drawing attention, she could see people walking along, their faces blurred and barely distinguishable from one another. She walked as close as she could to the edge of the sidewalk near the buildings, her arms folded around herself as though she could make herself smaller and less noticeable.

“Phone, phone, I just need to find a phone.” She muttered to herself, alternating between looking at the ground to make sure she didn’t trip over anything and up around to try and find...Something. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. 

Maybe some kind of big sign that said, ‘This way to your team!’. As she walked, all that kept racing through her mind was the same questions. What happened? Where was she? Where were her friends and Dave? Were they okay? Had they been drugged and dumped? 

What happened?

Her skin was starting to break out into a cold sweat, her breathing was starting to come in short huffs and despite how close her arms were tucked to herself; she could feel her fingers and hands growing cold and shaking at her sides. 

An overwhelming sense of fear and confusion welled up in her chest and she eventually stopped walking, leaning against the brick of some building and curling in more on herself. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes as her breathing turned into shallow gasps, her chest tight and throat parched.

“Where are they?” She asked herself with a soft sob. “Where are they?”

The downtown district came into view, blending from the rundown neighborhoods of Mountain View into more businesses than houses. Queen realized walking around like a priest in public brought as many stares as it did warm smiles, most stares quickly averted and some doggedly aggressive. He tried to remember when he had seen a priest just shopping for toilet paper and could not recall it, maybe they just didn’t go around in their uniforms.

He mused on this as he hit the button of a crosswalk, still unsure where he was going but on the other side he could see another Holiday gas station. The first two he tried did not have a payphone, well one did but the receiver had been smashed and hung in two pieces from the steel cord. Queen jogged across the street, the rosary beads bouncing against his chest and kept his eyes out for anything strange. His anxiety was trying to crawl up and take root but he’d had black outs before, maybe someone had roofied them but he did not feel the hangover side effects.

He stepped inside with the bing-bong of the chime and the cashier looked startled and then nervous. The collar again. Almost as bad as a badge. Queen smiled benignly and asked,in his fake Irish accent, “Do you have a phone I could use, lass?” 

The woman at the counter stuttered and blushed, “Uh, yeah. You could use ours, Father.”

He thanked her and took the old landline phone from where she pushed it over the counter. She stared at him a little longer then began doing a cigarette inventory, glancing over her shoulder every few moments. 
 
Queen dialed Donnelley’s number, but it went to voicemail and he turned his back on the cashier and whispered, “It’s Billy, what the fuck happened. Did we party after getting out of Noatak? I don’t remember shit and my phone is fried. I’ll try calling again.” 

He glanced over but the woman was thankfully busy with a customer and he tried remembering Poker’s phone number. It was one he rarely called unless he had to and his mind felt a little hazy, memories of fog and mixed with a dead cop and Avery and the Shaman speaking of things that made him shudder and almost cross himself. 

“Fuck it,” he hung the phone up.

“Father?” 

He turned, forgetting a moment priests didn’t drop the F bomb. “Oh, sorry. Do you have fresh hotdogs?”

“Honestly...I wouldn’t touch them, I’m about to finish my shift so they’ve been there for hours.”

Queen raised his brows then went to the aisles, picking up two packs of Little Debbies that were on sale and a large cherry coke Slurpee. A sugar rush but it was cheap energy. 

Once he left, a cup cake between his lips and continued towards the center of town. He strolled along noticing a rise in bars and he passed a pool hall with a huge set of neon moose antlers over the door. It was tacky as fuck and he loved it. As he turned away something down the street caught his eye, a flame of color bright in the sun. 

Queen moved, taking a drink from the large cup as it dawned on him. The floof of red hair, the small stature but the clothes were all wrong. The strange look of too large boots and the straight cut hem of pants that did not fit right and a long men’s shirt. Like a little hobo clown leaning against the wall. 

He blinked, whatever had knocked him out and got him into a priest outfit might be still in his system. As he got closer he could see the delicate pretty features he recognized. 

“Ava?” he called her name, now moving quickly and elbowed a man out of the way who cussed at him in some language he didn’t understand or care to. “Ava!” 

Queen approached her, trying not to laugh at her outlandish appearance. 

Ava blinked as she heard her name, her head snapping up and looking around as hope surged in her chest. She pushed away from the wall as recognition clicked. “Queen?” She called out, looking around until she saw a figure running toward her. She couldn’t make out the features, but the build was right.

Excitement and relief flooding through her she started to run toward the figure. “Que-!” Her shout was cut short as the large boots tripped over themselves and sent her sprawling face first on the sidewalk.

Queen winced at her fall and hurried over to her, setting his large cup down and picked her up by her shoulders. He examined her face, she had a scrape on her chin from the fall but otherwise seemed alright. “Jesus Mary and Joseph,” he said in the phoney accent then dropped it for his more familiar Florida Panhandle drawal. “Ava are you alright? What the hell are you wearing?” 

He helped her to her feet and shook his head, looking at the boots. Relief to finally see one his own filled him and he laughed, giving her a hug, squeezing her against the rosary beads. “It’s good to see you,” he said, then released her. 

Ava hugged Queen back tightly when he pulled her into the embrace, her anxiety melting away at being in the presence of a familiar face. “It’s good to see you too.” She sniffed, looking up at him and finally able to make out his features now that he was close enough. She opened her mouth to launch into a tirade of question, but paused and tilted her head to the side like a confused cat. 

“Why...Are you dressed like a priest?”

“I heard the Village People needed a sixth,” he replied dryly then shrugged, “I have no idea, honestly. I just...was sitting in a confessional booth at Saint Anthony’s church. Dressed like this. I mean, I’ve had some wild nights and woke up in strange places but this takes the cake.”

He remembered and said, “Speaking of, you hungry?”

Queen removed from his pocket a slightly squished pack of Little Debbie zebra cakes and handed them to her. “I found...well, the wallet of the priest, too. In the pant pocket. He was kinda broke. What about you?”

Ava sniffed again, gently wiping at her scraped chin with the sleeve of her shirt. She reached for the cake and winced as she moved her left hand to do so. She took it with her right hand instead. “I...I don’t know. I woke up in a dive bar, it might have been a biker bar?” She frowned as she thought back to the experience. “I was in a bathroom and I was wearing...This.” She motioned to the clothing on her body.

“Well, not exactly, I had to make alterations so it would fit but I was wearing the clothes of this biker guy.” Her frown deepened as she looked up at him. “But his phone and wallet were still in the pockets and, um, well,” She took his hand and gently tugged him down to whisper in Queen’s ear. “His gun was still there too and I...took...it.”

Queen raised his brows and gave her a conspiratorial smile after she whispered in his ear. Looking at her still very close he had to remind himself of her reaction in the Camaro and his private promise to himself out of respect to Dave. He pulled back, fighting his natural urge to push a little farther. “You want to keep carrying it or did you want me to?”


“Here, let’s get off the street,” he put a light hand on her back and guided her to one of the alleys. “That’s a hell of a place to...what did you say, wake up?”

Queen rubbed his beard, giving the short hair on his chin a tug as he thought it over, “I guess that’s how it was, just waking up. Coming to. And you were wearing that? Fucking...what the hell is going on. I know you didn’t go party with bikers and strip and then borrow one of their clothes and his wallet…”

As he said it outloud he could hear how mad it sounded and he shook his head. “This is nutter butters, Angel.” 

Queen took a sip of his slurpee then offered her a drink. “What’s up with your left arm by the way, I see you favoring it?” 

Ava looked down at her arm as she tucked the pastry into one of the pants gaping pockets to eat later. “Oh, um,” She flushed as she lifted up her arm. “I...panicked and crawled out of the bathroom window so I didn’t have to go through the bar.” She pulled the sleeve back and winced, noticing the wrist was starting to grow red. “I fell on my wrist and shoulder because I climbed out head first.”

She looked around to make sure they were alone and she shifted so Queen was blocking her from sight. “Here,” She lifted up the shirt enough to reveal the gun and holster tucked into the belt. “My eyes are useless right now, I don’t have my contacts in and my glasses were nowhere.” She removed the gun and holster from the pants, revealing the pink bullet scar on her lower stomach the holster had inadvertently been hiding. “You should take it, it’s a .38 revolver.”

Her face grew concerned, but grim as she looked up at Queen. “Were...Were we drugged?”

“Lost both contacts too?” He watched her raise her shirt, trying not to stare at her pale flat stomach then noted the scar but said nothing. “.38 revolver, good ol’ Saturday Night Special. Thanks, I’ll take care of it.” 

He untucked the priest’s shirt and put the holster and gun against the small of his back, snug between the belt and his skin. Queen clicked his tongue against his teeth at her question, “I don’t know, Angel. It’s a good guess but how does it explain us wearing other people’s clothes and having their IDs? Some high strangeness going on for sure. But let’s work on something we can solve.”

Queen rubbed his hands together briefly, “Like that arm of yours and your vision. There’s a Walgreens up the street. But uh, that dude have any money in his wallet? I got about seven bucks left after the snack. I should have looked for the collection plate but it got weird and I had to book it quick out of there.” 

“I tried calling Te- Donnelley,” he said, then shook his head, “Just went straight to voice mail. But we can keep trying once we find another phone.”

He looked her over, “You might even be better off walking without those boots, probably more a hazard but it’s up to you. It’s not a far walk.”

Ava looked down at the boots and reached down to untie the laces. “Yeah, I need to get rid of these, I just didn’t want to walk around barefoot in the alleys. I have to be able to get some flipflops at Walgreens right?” While she was undoing the boots, she reached into the sock where she had stashed the money and pulled it out. 

“Um, here,” She stood up and held out the folded bills to him. “Between the wallet and the emergency money in the boot, I’ve got 114 dollars.” She wiggled her feet and pulled them out of the boots, sighing in relief to no longer have the heavy weight on her feet.

She reached down to pick up the boots. “Do you want these? If they’re your size? They seem like good boots or should we make a homeless man very happy?”

Queen took the money but counted out the fourteen dollars and handed it back to her, “Never be without at least a few bucks.” 

He put the rest in the wallet and tucked it in the back pocket. “Not with these slacks, those boots would throw off the whole look. I kinda like the aesthetic, very clean and minimalist. Hold onto those though, we could use them for I don’t know, smashing a car window.” 

Queen looked at her with the cut jeans hovering around the falling socks and huffed a laugh.  An idea came to mind as he flashed a grin at her, his eyes twinkling with the familiar impish gleam,“It’s not far so, if you want I can just piggy back you over. I’m no Ghost but you’re pretty small, even I could carry you a few blocks. If not, just mind your socks and don’t trip.” 

Ava blinked up at him in surprise. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, Queen.” She smiled, though the weight of everything that happened weighed it down. “I appreciate the offer though.” She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to give him another hard hug. 

“I’m really glad to see you, Queen.” She said, her voice growing soft. “I was really scared and confused. I’m still pretty confused, but I’m not as scared now.”

Queen shrugged, the rejection taken in stride, “I’m just that kinda guy.”

He smiled at the hug, that was good enough but understood her fear and anxiety. He had not let his mind rest too hard on the details of what had happened but he had seen enough in his work with the Program to know that they just didn’t wake up with costumes on. There was always a price and whatever happened, whatever had been asked it had cost. Just how much he was not certain and he would not voice his concern to Ava. Instead, Queen pat her back, “I can imagine, I’m guessing you never got black out drunk. We’ll get it fixed, you’ll see.” 

Queen glanced down at her, then gave her a slight squeeze. “We’ll find Dave. And the rest.”

He let her go and gave her hair a ruffle, “We need to control that, too. It’s too humid this close to the water. Can you see enough to follow me? Maybe hold my sleeve or back of my shirt if you’re having trouble. Let’s get going.”

Ava’s eyes brightened at the mention of Dave as he pulled away, before growing concerned and wondering if the same thing had happened to him. “Yeah, okay.” She bent down to pick up the boots. “Oh, um, also,” She cleared her throat. “I have cigarettes in my pocket. I know you smoke so you can have them if you want...I also took the dude’s weed.”

Queen gave her a look of appraisal then spoke in the Irish lilt, “Ah, tis a sin to be smoking the devil’s lettuce, lass. Ya better hand it all over to good Father Patrick to take care of proper.” 

Ava smiled and giggled at the accent, reaching into the pocket and pulling out the pack of cigarettes which also contained the weed. “Sorry Father, I’ll say ten Hail Mary’s to make up for it.” She held it out to him.

“Do so, and don’t be forgetting a couple of Our Fathers,” he replied.

He took the Marlborough cigarettes and put them in the front shirt pocket then opened the bag of weed to take a sniff. Decent but not good, probably local stuff. He put it in his pocket and asked, “You wouldn’t have found his lighter, too?” 

Queen took that too and immediately lit a cigarette and took a drag, “Not as good as my Kools, but it’ll do, thanks.” 

With a nod of his head, he gestured to the alley exit, “Let’s get going.” 

Ava nodded, took in a breath and followed him out of the alley...///

>...///

Another car honked and this time Laine did not even turn around, she just stepped over and waved them along then flicked her middle finger at the middle aged male driver. It had been the fourth since the truck to try honking and slowing down, one even bold enough to ask her how much. She longed for her gun and badge and a pair of actual shoes. 

“Not interested,” she said as he tried slowing down. Her feet ached after walking a mile or so down the road where it finally met a highway. She had no clue where she was going, Laine realized she could be walking into the wilderness of Alaska in flip flops and no jacket. Maybe she could have taken the ride, she had the knife and the knuckles but after the near miss with Thumper and the strange flashes of unsettling memories she did not want the risk. 

Laine felt a sharp pain and stopped, moving off the shoulder to remove the sandal and pick out another piece of gravel. She took a breather and from where she was, she could see Diamond Blvd just ahead where it crossed the parkway she had been following. A Costco, blessed civilization in one direction and a couple of gas stations in the other. Slipping her foot back into the shoe, she started walking towards the intersection. 

Red light.

Cop on the other side of the intersection. He couldn’t tell where he was looking on account of those fucking cop shades, and after the time Donnelley had just had, he could be looking at him. He forced himself not to stare at the cop and looked elsewhere. His eyes scanned the road, looking at pedestrians as they walked and continued their lives not knowing he’d just killed two people and stole one’s car. “How the fuck did I get here?” He muttered to himself.

He looked around again and then heard someone honk. He looked at the traffic signal and noticed it had turned green. With a light touch on the gas he set the Toyota rolling along again to the next red light in the streets. Out of habit, he scanned again, eyes locking on one pedestrian. Sure, her clothes were odd, but those hips. He couldn’t stop his mind from going there even after his wake-up. He forced himself to stop checking her out, immediately feeling like he was betraying the memory of Laine. And then he squinted at her. Before he knew it, he was staring at her. Another honk came from behind him, but he paid it no mind.

The cars behind him swerved around him as he refused to go with the green light. As the woman got closer, sure as shit, it was Laine. He rolled down his window, not having any witty or smartassed thing to say, and not being in the mood for one, “Laine?” He yelled, “Laine?”

The honking at least was not towards her this time as she walked quickly across the crosswalk, hips swinging with the movement. Her head was tilted down, watching that she did not trip over the cheap rubber of the flip flops. When she looked up to check the light she heard it. Her name. 

Stopping in the middle, she froze and looked around then towards the source of the honking. That red beard and scar, his blue eyes visible from even where she was. Laine smiled, “Oh shit, Donnelley? There you are!” 

She ran forward to get out of the road, regretting it immediately as she forgot she wasn’t wearing a bra. [i]Fuck it.[/i] 

Laine ran to him, happy to find someone from her team but even better it was Donnelley. In her rush one of her flip flops snapped and fell off her foot and she limped over to where he was parked and without hesitation hopped into the passenger side seat.. “Hey, am I glad to see you, where the hell did we all go?”

Buckling up, she looked over at him, what he was wearing was not the tactical gear he had on last she remembered. 

Donnelley depressed the gas pedal and made it just before the yellow light had turned red. He took his moment and tried to decide to tell Laine what had happened, asked her if she knew anything. But he knew she wouldn’t. He swallowed, was this a dream? Was he really dead and this was what the last few firings of his synapses brought. He shook himself from his doom and gloom musings, “Anchorage.” He said, still not believing it somewhat, “How did we get here?”

“Anchorage, I thought so,” she said, digging into the purse and pulling the last two Merits out and offering him one. “I don’t know, I woke up in someone else’s bed. At like noon.” 

She lit her cigarette with the cheap disposable lighter, the clear colorful plastic ones that always stopped working before the fuel ran out. It took her a few strikes before getting a flame. 

“I don’t even know when I woke up.” Donnelley said, before looking over and seeing the offered cigarette, “Oh, Jesus fuck, thank God.”

He snatched it out of Laine’s hand and shoved it between his lips, lighting it and taking in a huge drag. He rolled down his window and blew it out, “Goddamn, that’s worse than Queen’s fuckin’ Kools.” He chuckled, and then the memory of him dropping like bricks after his brains sprayed out the back of his head flashed across his mind, “You haven’t… have you seen anyone else?”

Laine grinned a bit at his sentiment then furrowed her brow, “Jesus, Donnelley. I was wearing some woman’s underwear and sleeping in her bed. I didn’t see her at all but nothing of mine was there. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know...I don’t think I did anything. Then this dude showed up pounding on the door and I grabbed what clothes would fit me which is why I look like I just rolled out of a thrift shop donation bin. I had to punch him in the teeth to get past...I think he was her pimp. I got the hell out of there.”

She took a drag and said, “I brought her purse, I’m going to try and find her if we can. Maybe she knows...something.”

The niggling fear in the back of her mind, the shock on Thumper’s face when he saw Laine rather than the woman he was looking for. “These do suck,” she agreed, wanting to think about something else. “You’re the first I’ve come across, I tried driving away in her car but ran out of gas back down the parkway and that’s why I was walking. Her phones were fried and that smell...you know, the electric burn smell. I swear I smelled it when I woke, I thought there might have been an outlet fire, that apartment was pretty rough. But it wasn’t.”

She looked at him, flicking her cigarette with her thumbnail a few times, “You don’t know when? I saw the clock by the bed, it was just after twelve. Where did you wake up, those aren’t your clothes. At least I’ve never seen you wear that.”

“I…” woke up with She-Ra behind me and we immediately set to killing each other. And then I killed someone just for seeing the aftermath, stole his truck, and now we’re riding in it with his kid’s car seat in the back… “was drivin’.”

“I’m pretty sure the smell was there too. Power steerin’ was out in the car, had to ditch it because it wouldn’t turn over.” Donnelley lied easy, “Now I’m in Anchorage… lookin’ for y’all, I guess.”

Laine looked at him for a long moment, narrowing her green eyes slightly, “Just like that I guess. Donnelley. I woke up wearing some hooker’s thong with her pimp knocking at the door!  What the fuck is going on? If this turns out to be some need to know bullshit I swear…”

She stuck her cigarette between her full lips and felt her hand trembling as she sucked on the nicotine to calm her nerves that had been fraying as since she woke in someone else’s sad little life. Laine leaned away from him, pressing her elbow against the window sill of the door, the wind whipping her short dark hair as the smoke streamed out. 

“I’m tryin’ to figure this shit out too, okay?” Donnelley snapped at her with some measure of annoyance to be yelled at, but he understood. He didn’t know what in the hell was going on, but the fact remained no one else but him seemed to remember what had happened before. “I’m just goin’ to set us North and we’ll look for a- a payphone, or some place that’ll let us use their phone.”

“I don’t know how we got here anymore than you, Laine.” Donnelley said, taking a hard breath and then another drag off his cigarette...///

>CHEVRON GAS STATION
>10SEP2019
>1300...///

“I’m stopping for gas here, how much cash do you have?” Donnelley turned to Laine.

“Apparently, Sam Teague doesn’t believe in paper money.” He showed one of the wallets on his person, then the other, “Gregory Miles only has ten bucks.”

Laine had remained silent for most of the trip, her temper slowly cooling as they traveled. After the strain of the experience and uncertainty she lashed out, the man that usually had answers had nothing. She mentally flipped through the clues and tried unsuccessfully to piece together the time before waking in Alasie's bed.

She jerked her head when he spoke, looking at him for a moment as she registered he spoke of two men.  Whatever that meant, she didn't pry this time, stubbornly putting up that wall. 

"Good thing my girl worked for cash," Laine said, reaching for the wallet in the purse and counted out sixty dollars. "Here. Buy a better lighter, too."

She handed the cash but held it a moment, looking at him. "I'm really glad you found me. Walking in flip flops for any distance other than to the pool sucks."

Her eyes sought him, the tension still there but softening. "Can you get me a Snickers, I'll pump the gas."

“Yeah, sure.” Donnelley took the cash, not saying anything about Laine’s trepidation at handing it over. He made his way over to the convenience store, opening the door to hear Waylon Jennings on the store speakers and the door chime as he walked in.

“Hey there.” The attendant said, disinterested in who he was talking to as he thumbed through a magazine.

Donnelley prowled the aisles for a Snickers and snatched two up. Walking back to the checkout counter, he slid them across to the attendant who eyed them and then him, “Anything else?”

“Pack of American Spirits, black. And, uh,” Donnelley clucked his tongue as he plucked a red Bic lighter from its place on the display, “One of these.”

“Uh.” The attendant scanned the items as Donnelley handed about thirty bucks over.

“Can I get this on…” he leaned back to look out the glass doors to see where they were parked, “On two, please. What’s the date today, by the way?”

“Don’t own a phone? Brand new, they do everything.”

“Lost mine.” Donnelley frowned something dark. “You got one I can use?”

“Out of luck, Bud.” The attendant looked at him for a second before sliding his items over in a plastic bag, “The tenth.”

“Of?” Donnelley quirked his brow.

The attendant quirked his own, “September. Man, you alright?”

“Probably not.” Donnelley grabbed up the bag and left, walking back to the truck. He sided with Laine at the pump and then brought one of the Snickers out of the bag, “Here, you’re not you when you’re hungry.” He smirked, reciting their catchphrase.

Laine waited with the nozzle in the gas tank, watching for the pump to click to zero to indicate it was ready. She leaned against the car, squeezing the nozzle as Donnelley approached. 

She took the candy bar and gave him a little sheepish smile. 

Laine set the lock on the handle and then turned to him. "Any luck calling someone?"

She reached for the sanitizer mounted over the windshield wiper fluid and rubbed her hands together before wiping her hands on her sweats then tore into the Snickers.

“Didn’t have a phone,” Donnelley said, opening the driver door and taking a seat as he opened his own Snickers, “SOL on that front.”

He bit into the Snickers and talked around it, “I don’t even know what the fuck our next step would be.”

They were both silent for a few moments, Donnelley quietly chewing while watching the numbers on the gas gauge rise. He looked at Laine, a flash of her dead eyes as she lay on the ground before he looked away and then back at her, “How much do you remember?” He asked quietly, “From before?”

Laine was toying with the broken flip flop, it was nearly useless. She needed clothes and shoes, the nights were going to be getting colder. They still had enough money and if carefully spent it could last while they looked for the others. 

She glanced at him, it was unusual to see him so lost. He always seemed to know what needed to be done or at least it appeared that way. Laine waited as the gas pumped and kept eating the candy bar, giving herself some time before going back into the SUV. She looked at it, her gaze pulled to the back and the child safety seat strapped in the back. Something cold prickled up her spine again, the clues that were plain as day but her mind did not want the conclusion she was piecing together.

Dragging her gaze from the back seat she looked at him, dressed like a redneck but not his version. She thought about what she had remembered, it was not much. When she woke, there was the electrical burning stink still in her nostrils but anything else in the recent time before that was just bits and pieces. 

“Let’s see,” she said, “I remember us going to Noatak, I remember the incident with Yutu and how that turned out. I remember speaking with Ipitok and then…”

Laine took the last piece of candy bar in her mouth, chewing hard as she thought about the most fragmented flashes of memory. “A woman showed up, Agent Jung, she was freezing, like she had been caught out in a storm. I remember being afraid of what...what I don’t know, I just remember feeling very worried when I saw it was snowing. I think we left the house but everything’s just a haze after that.”

She shrugged then looked at him, “Doesn’t seem very helpful, what about you?” 

Donnelley shook his head, “‘Bout the same.” He lied. He’d tell her. Sometime. Maybe when they found the others, if there were others. If they found a quiet spot, others or no, he’d tell her when the day ended. “Just the Op. The tundra, then Noatak. Charles goin’ down when Yutu started shootin’.”

“The vision…” He muttered, looking off and thinking about how he’d seen it happen before it did. Was this how Ava felt any time she had her dreams? He swallowed, shaking his head slightly and looking back to Laine, “Then takin’ Ipiktok and leavin’ the house to meet CORAL NOMAD. That’s it.”

“Somethin’ happened, Laine.” Donnelley shivered as he looked back at the gas meter, remembering Laine’s dead and empty eyes, “Somethin’ bad.”

The gas meter stopped at 30 dollars and he hopped out to replace the nozzle in the machine. Closing up the gas tank, he slapped the lid shut and got back into the driver seat, cranking the keys and watching the needle rise to half full. As they left, he had no more words to say, and he didn’t like the silence. He turned up the radio and listened to the dated country music that crooned out of the speakers. Greg liked Country. Greg liked Country and had a kid he was going home to. Greg was never coming home. He heaved in a breath and pressed himself into his seat, growling softly. “We need a fuckin’ phone.”

She slid into the passenger seat, pulling the shoulder belt over her chest.  “Want me to try?” Laine said, shifting the strap between her breasts, “I might be able to convince him to lend it.” 

She reached over to put her hand on his, brushing her thumb against his skin. Laine said nothing, just holding his hand for a moment. The sensation of his warmth and the light pulse on his wrist was reassuring and Laine squeezed a little harder. 

“I think you’re right,” she said, her voice huskier than usual. “I think...I don’t want to say it but if we’re here where did [i]they[/i] go? Maybe we were drugged and placed but...you said you were driving when you came to? That doesn’t make sense. And you had two wallets, that’s different from my experience as well. We need to find the others, they have to be here. Somewhere.” 

“Dave’s resourceful.” Donnelley nodded as he smiled for the first time all day, just holding Laine’s hand. He squeezed her hand gently in reassurance both for himself and for her, “I’m sure Ava’s okay.”

If Laine was alive, Ava had to be. He hoped she was, and that they’d all find each other somehow. It was a modest city and there weren’t many hiding places. Still, it had its dangerous parts like any other, and if Ava or Dave weren’t careful… his mind didn’t dwell too hard on that. “We’ll try somewhere else.”

Laine leaned against the center console and looked down at her broken flip flop dangling from her foot. “We could just drive around, maybe we can spot them like you did me. Check places they might go, like gas stations or...bus stops?”

She jiggled her foot, the pedicured black polish gleaming, “We both woke up in strange clothes, maybe if they did too, they’d try to get something else. Maybe thrift stores?” 

Laine thought about Thumper and worried over Ava, “I hope so, I’m sure about Dave but Ava? If she had any situation like I did...well, she’s been trained right? She’ll be fine.”

Her voice carried the weight of the worry, their team scattered like chaff in the wind by some unknown force. “I just wish I could remember something before waking up in that apartment. I figured she was a night owl, she must have been sleeping in. Maybe…”

Laine trailed off, hunting for Alasie Creech was down on her list of missing person priority. “What do they say about being lost in the woods? To sit tight and someone might find you. What about the Program, do they have any protocol for being lost in a city you’ve never been to or remember going to?”

She huffed a laugh and glanced at him, “Can I get one of those Spirits?” 

“Oh, yeah,” He took the pack from the plastic bag, driving with his knees while he unwrapped it. He took one out and turned it over, taking another out and placing it between his lips, offering the pack to Laine, “Check a Walmart, maybe. Might find Dave. Either way, we’ll find a burner phone. Something cheap, just so we can call someone.”

“Good idea,” she said, taking the cigarette and letting him light it before settling back, “I need some real shoes, too. Just something cheap that won’t fall off my feet. And a jacket, it’s fine now but it’ll get cold later and I’m half dressed.” 

She took a drag and blew it out, “My luck I woke up in a petite woman’s apartment, not a lot of choice in wardrobe. But let’s do it, maybe we can ask around. Contact the locals to put up a  missing persons case?”

The hopefulness about the idea faded as she recalled how stubborn some places were about taking adult missing persons cases, dragging it out when the most critical time passes. And it was something they could even do, if the Program would care. [i]Fuck them[/i], Laine thought as she sucked on the cigarette hard enough to make her cheeks hollow, a sudden feeling of anger towards the faceless higher beings that put them in Noatoak hit her. And the not so faceless.

“I don’t think the Program would like their agents being looked for by the entire Anchorage PD… if they even give a shit.” Donnelley muttered the last part. The more they drove deeper into Anchorage the more the place looked like a SeaTac, but further north. Whores, pimps, drug dealers. Hell, they might find Queen just walking around right here. “Let’s just make a trip to Walmart.”

>...///

>Carr’s Pharmacy 
>10SEP2019
>1300...///

Queen tried on another pair of sunglasses, gazing at himself in the little strip of a mirror on the display. He was beginning to warm to the look of the priest’s clothes on him, form fitting and black, the stark white collar a contrast to his colorful tattoos. Not to mention the looks he got from women, a titillating blend of holy and handsome, the forbidden fruit. He grinned behind the Rayban knock-offs and took them, cheap sunglasses always had their uses. 

The limited clothing offered at the pharmacy was poor quality and overpriced, the sweat shirts so thin they wouldn’t keep out a strong breeze from a desk fan let alone a late summer Alaskan evening. The temperature would drop after the sun went down and neither of them had a jacket and Ava needed shoes and clothes that fit her. 

He went to the girl at the makeup counter and smiled. She gave him a heated look then saw the collar and her expression turned from interest to confusion. “Can I help you?”

“Ah, lass, I was wondering if you might know where the nearest second hand or thrift store was?” Queen asked, slipping into his Father Patrick persona. “The Lord provides but the Lord is frugal.”

The girl smiled a little, then took a piece of receipt paper and wrote down the directions, “That’s the Goodwill downtown, they have a good selection. A lot of winter wear, you know. Getting to be that time of year.”

“You are a dear,” he said, then looked over the heavy makeup covering a flush of acne on an otherwise cute young face. “You know you should scrape off that whore’s paint. You’d be a much prettier lass without it.”

Queen winked and she flushed red, turning to look in the mirror at the bright coral lipstick that did not suit her skin tone. 

He strolled back to where he left Ava trying on the generic glasses and he poked his head around the tall display rack, “Find anything that helps?” 

Ava turned to him with a pair of small, perfectly circular black rimmed glasses on her face. She blinked up at him through the glasses. “Yeah, these work okay for things close to me.” She said, turning around to look down the aisle with a frown. “Further away, I can’t see shit.”

She turned back to him and shrugged. “It’s better than nothing though.” She held up a pair of cheap sandals, still attached together by a plastic tag. “I found these, they had slippers which would be warmer but these were cheaper and, well,” She frowned. “We need to be careful with the money we have.”

"Forget that, just buy some socks and panties here. I got directions to a thrift store, it's not far. It's hard to find non-prescription glasses to see far, but take whatever helps," he said, then looked at the socks that had fallen around her ankles, the bottoms black from walking outside. "On second thought, you might want the sandals for now it's still a bit of a hike."

“That’s probably a good idea.” She adjusted the glasses on her face and pushed them up to rub at her eyes. “My head is clearing up at least,” She lowered her glasses and glanced in the direction of the pharmacy. “There’s no chance of me getting my medication here, I don’t know how long it’s been since I last took it.”

Queen paused, raising an eyebrow, “Medication? You got some chronic condition or what? Restless leg syndrome?” 

He flashed a little smile for her to know he was teasing but still had a concern in his pale eyes, “I can tell you it’s not been too long, even if those newspapers said it was the tenth. And I don’t remember it being the tenth when…”

He furrowed his brow, the line between his brows forming. They had not discussed too much of what they recalled before ‘waking’ as she called it, in the strange places in a stranger’s clothing. Queen knew his stash was gone but was not feeling the effects from any withdrawal yet.  “I mean, I uh...do you feel like you’ve missed your medicine for a few days?” 

“It’s the tenth!?” She said in a hushed exclamation, turning to him with wide eyes. “We were in Noatak on the seventh, how did we lose three days!?” She shut her eyes and took in a deep breath, panicking was not going to help them here. “Sorry, sorry,” She said, shaking her head pushing the glasses up to rub at her face. “I’m okay, I think, it usually takes a few days for me to start feeling...Icky.” Ava frowned again. “But, it has been a few days.”

Queen put a light hand on her shoulder, leaning down slightly, “Look, between you and me, I’d be feeling like shit, too if so much time passed between...doses. I don’t though, so something wacky is really going on. But look, we'll figure it out, we’ll find the others and everything will be alright.”

He glanced around, a few shoppers lingering near the pharmacy counter. “What’s your prescription for?”

She relaxed a little at his reassurance, taking a moment to collect herself before answering, “I take Klonopin for anxiety, nightmares and sleepwalking.”

He knew the drug and it wasn’t for lightweight anxiety caused by being introverted and awkward. It wasn’t even something he indulged in as it was more rare and stronger than the Xanax and other brands of calming bliss in a pill. 

“Well, you’re rolling with the big benzos now aren't cha?” he teased but was already going over what he recalled about the medication. “Yeah, you’re not getting that without an ID and prescription that’s for sure. You don’t take anything else? Xanax or estazolam or anything?” 

Queen reached to toy with the rosary around his neck, it would not really matter, all those scripts were hard to get without a doctor’s note and ID. Sometime maybe he could get with time and his contacts but they were far from Florida, about as far one could get and still be on the same continent. He mulled it over and thought of himself, the withdrawals from the opiates and cocaine, all the Xanax he’d tossed back like tic tacs to deal with THUNDER’s shit. It was coming, the storm was delayed, not absent. And the reason he had even headed towards downtown in the first place, the shittiest neighborhoods always had the guys that hung out on the street. 

“Look, I gotta plan but you’re gonna have to get cool with a lot of stuff real fast,” he said, meeting her gaze.

Ava blinked up at him, furrowing her eyebrows together in confusion. “Um, okay? What are you going to do? Does it involve the priest's uniform?”

Queen considered it then shrugged, “I’m not sure yet, we’ll see how it goes. Playing it by ear. But look, I’m gonna try to get you something that you can take but it probably won’t be Klonopin. Not in this town. We’ll both get set up, I just need to find the right guy. Let’s get our shit and get out of here.” 

Ava's baffled expression only grew, her gaze growing mildly pensive as she studied Queen. “O...kay. I trust you know what you’re doing.” She said, giving him one last look before turning to go pick up a couple more things from the aisles. 

Queen smiled, a hint of sadness flickering through his sea colored eyes, “I’m glad you trust me with this. I am after all your friendly, neighborhood DEA priest.”

He took her things with him to the front, waiting for whatever else she would bring as he asked for a pack of Kools and he picked up a plastic folded map of Anchorage. Queen watched the price adding up, fucking overcharging for the convenience of not going to a Walmart. The total was almost a third of their money, leaving them with about seventy dollars. 

He handed Ava the bag with her underwear and new socks and sandals, waiting while she made a run to the bathroom to put some on under the baggy cut jeans and oversized t-shirt, the faded Harley Davidson logo just recognizable on it. He shared some trail mix with her as they walked to a bus stop, now with a map he had a better idea of where they could go. 

The northbound bus pulled up and the driver gave Queen the once over in his priest shirt and tattoos and the waif he brought along with him. With a slow shake of his head, he said nothing as they dropped their dollars in the machine. 

As Queen watched the neighborhood turn seedier, he kept his sharp gaze out for the telltale lingering knot of men that seemed to be waiting for nothing. He saw women like that, strolling no doubt and he knew he was close. Once he saw advertisements for check cashing and payday loans and a directional sign for a nearby RV Park he pulled the chain. It was a place to start hunting. 

He glanced at Ava after they stepped off the bus and he turned to her, “Stick close, let me do the talking. And trust me, no matter what I say to them.” 

The street was a collection of strip malls across from the airfield complex and beyond it a variety of RV parks and small apartment complexes and rental homes. He tucked the map in one of the bags and pulled off his short sleeve black shirt and the stiff collar, stuffing them into the bag as well. Leahy had been an undershirt guy and Queen now looked much less holy in the wifebeater and rosary, the full sleeve tattoos on display now. 

The variety was a chaotic mix of color and black and white, spiderweb reaching over his right shoulder and below it a laughing devil with a top hat and old english lettering that said HHF, FHH and on the other among the duller black tattoos was a bright red heart with an arrow piercing it, a classic with the scroll that said “Mom” wrapped around it. It was all filled in with decorative art, creating a full canvas on his skin that was starting to spread down his fingers and up his neck and already crossed his chest and back. 

Queen shook his long hair out, running his fingers through it to make it look less tidy and greasier, the cheap sunglasses completing the look. He took the pack of Kools and removed one, putting it between his lips but not lighting it. He roughed up his beard and looked at Ava, flickering a dimpled mischievous grin, ”Do I look like trash enough?” 

Ava had been quiet the whole trip, watching the scenery pass and turn from the somewhat respectable downtown to something...more insidious.

Her mind started to put the pieces together and a knot of anxiety started to take hold in her chest. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest as she watched Queen strip off the priest uniform and posed his question.

She looked at him with clear uncertainty and no small amount of fear and worry. “Queen...You don’t have to do this. I feel fine right now, I’ll be okay for a few days, even without my medication.” She said, her voice soft and almost pleading with him.

Queen saw her worry and it felt unfamiliar, he was so used to the bravado of THUNDER that her concern confused him for a moment. He shook his head, "Ain't no thing, Angel. I did this all the time in my day job. Besides, you…"

He hesitated, she'd figure it out sooner or later, innocent or not she wasn't stupid. His expression shifted from gleeful anticipation to a more introspective look. 

"You ain't the only one that's gonna be feeling bad once our systems catch up with whatever happened," he said quietly, "And I've been at this long enough to know I don't want that if I can help it. I'd be useless and I can't take care of you if I'm useless."

Queen flashed her a smile, "Come on, think of this like an adventure. You're playing an urban tourist."

Ava looked away, as though a suspicion she wasn’t even fully aware of had been confirmed. A number of emotions flickered across her face, concern, fear, a touch of disbelief and frustration at herself for being so oblivious.

Chiefly what weighed down her expression was a look of disappointment and sadness. She didn’t say anything in response to Queen, her arms folding tighter around herself.

Queen watched her register it all then took the unlit cigarette from his lips, tilting his head slightly as he gazed down at her. Shame and anger twisted in him, she was there judging him. It had been sometime since he had a teammate look at him that way. They all knew and some shared, including and especially Donnelley. 

"It's like that, huh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She looked up at him, her brow furrowing. “Like what?”

"How long you been in the Program? I've been doing this shit almost six years," he said, his voice uncharacteristically gruff. "Most of that with THUNDER. Doing what I gotta do to keep myself from suck starting my pistol so don't judge me if my shit ain't a prescription."

He turned his head, not wanting to see that disappointment, let her get angry or offended, that was easier.  

“...Queen.” Ava said quietly, her eyes stinging with tears. “I’m not judging you. I’m just... I don’t even know.” She reached out and tentatively touched his arm. “I still think of you as my friend. I care about you. I know that.”

Queen held his breath, glancing at her glistening eyes and kicked himself internally. He could lash out at her, make her feel bad and guilty since she [i]still[/i] thought of him as her friend. Twist the knife of his own crumbling mental health only propped up by whatever chemical he could put in his body that would bring him up when he needed it or down, but always numb. He looked at her again, there was something in her naive optimism that from the beginning reminded him. Beyond her cute face and his desire for her, that had passed now and it was front and center. 

She reminded him of the only woman that meant something in his life, his mother. How his mom would look at him with the guileless blue eyes and ask about his work, how proud she was that he had a real career. She always found the bright side even in the darkest places, and Queen often wondered how much of it was for her or for him. 

With Ava, she was that same lightness and Queen could not do what he needed to so he just muttered,  “Look, I know it’s fucked up.It didn’t start...it was just to, you know, get through shit.”

He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and dropped it, looking down at his priest’s loafers. Queen had a feeling where the good Father had gone but he had said nothing about it. Another thing to bury up his nose. “I don’t ask you to approve it, it ain’t your world and I would never have brought you so close to it if I didn’t…”

Queen sighed raggedly and crossed his arms, “If I didn’t need to, I need it. I know what’s coming. I can’t go cold turkey and be useful.” 

Ava looked up at him and finally nodded slowly. “Okay.” She said quietly. “We can’t really afford both of us being...less than functional right now. I’m half blind already.” She let out a deep and heavy breath before unfolding her arms and motioning to him. “Let’s go do what needs doing, I’ll be right behind you.”

Queen rolled his shoulders and shook himself, trying to rid himself of the tension and slip into a persona and told her, “Just do that, stay behind me, stay quiet and follow my lead. It ain’t nothing. And...don’t call me Queen. Just use...Billy, that’ll do. I’ll call you... Emma. But we shouldn’t need them, it’s just in case.” 

He glanced over down the street, noting the couple of dudes that had not moved from their corner. “These guys smell like street hustlers, I’ve seen two busses pass and nothing. I’m going to chat them up, just stay close.” 

Already a knot of regret was forming, he should have left her at a McDonalds and done this on his own. But finding her had been a small miracle, considering the strangeness of their arrival in random places around Anchorage. He thought about how much easier and fun it would be with Tex but who knew where he was, he didn’t answer his phone. He put that aside and focused on the buy, he had about forty bucks he was willing to part with for this, it would leave them with thirty. Skin of their teeth but if it was one place Queen thrived it was the edge.

Putting the cigarette between his lips and the sunglasses back over his eyes as he strolled over to the three men sitting around the curb near the bus stop. 

“Sup, fellas, any y’all got a light?” he asked, motioning a flicking with his thumb. 

The men, dressed casually in jeans and large coats, glanced up. The one sitting on the curb stood up, eyeing Queen as he took in the tattoos and then looked past him at Ava. “Yeah, sure,” he said, reaching for a lighter, “You’re not from around here.”

Queen had made no effort to mask his southern accent and he took the light, inhaling sharply on the Kools and grinned, shaking his head, “Nah, man. Florida. I came up for work on the boats.”

“A long way,” the man in the Canucks shirt said, he had a native look to him and was wary. 

The man who offered him a light was wearing a hunting jacket over a t-shirt with the old mud flap busty girl silhouette printed on it.  “Florida, why would you leave?”

“Man, have you ever been to central Florida in the summer? It’s swamp ass 24/7, besides I heard there was good money if you got a strong back and boundless energy,” Queen replied, his eyes dancing a bit at the end.

Canuck eyed him, “A little early for the boats to come back, usually its the end of the month.”

Queen just shrugged, “I ain’t the captain, hoss. We had a hull full of ice and fish, we came back. What else do you want?”

Busty Girl shook his head, “He just don’t trust us white boys.”

“I don’t trust strangers, Kev.”

Queen took a drag of his cigarette, ignoring the short stocky man in the Canucks jersey. He leaned in to talk to Busty Girl who was called Kevin. “Look man, I’ll be square. I’m tryna fuck that little piece I picked up at the bus station.”


He gestured to Ava who stood a few feet back then turned back to the man, “See? A runaway, but she’s into pills. You know, stripper shit. Xannies and oxys. Or whatever you got close to that.`` 

Kevin nodded and smirked, looking at Ava then to him, “She dresses goofy but she’s cute. I wish I could help you man, but I just got ice. You smoke?”


Meth. He held it for Ghost’s occasional use and sometimes he’d use if he had no coke but it wasn’t his first choice or even second. “Nah, I don’t wanna turn her into a fucking meth scag, I need her just..pliable. You know how it be.”

“Sure...but sorry, man.”

“What about coke?”

Kevin laughed, “Man, what kinda town you think this is? It ain’t Florida.” 

The others joined in laughing and finally Kevin added, “Alright, look. You seem cool, so look, buy some of this shit from me and I’ll tell you who sells pills.” 

Queen took a moment then shook his head, “I just got enough for the pills, but I got a boat load of buddies that have been hitting the pipe all summer and are gonna be needing to resupply for the winter season. I can send them here.” 

Kevin rubbed his chin, the sparse goatee looked more like pubes than a beard. “Aight, sure. Lemme call him and see if he’s home.” 

Ava watched the scene unfold, her hands shoved nervously into the giant pockets of her pants. She fingered the switchblade tucked in one pocket, the knowledge she had a weapon a comfort. Though things seemed to be going well, from what little she knew about drug deals. 

Listening to Queen talk to the group of men was...disconcerting. It was a side she hadn’t seen before and even though she knew it was an act she was still uncomfortable to be standing there.

She pulled the little Debbie cake Queen had originally given her out of her pocket, desperate for something to do, to take her out of this situation altogether. She winced as she ripped open the plastic wrapping, the ace bandage wrapped around her wrist helping somewhat with the ache. She looked out at the street around them as she ate the ball of processed sugar masquerading as a pastry, reminding herself that this was the best option for them in their current situation. 

“He’s there,” Kevin said, putting up the phone. “He’ll be waiting, he’s got all that prescription shit. His chick works at a Carr’s, got that hook up.”

“Nice,” he said,not caring how the man got his pills. “Where’s he at?”

“Not far, just go up Sitka here and take a left on 3rd, follow it and take Orca Street up until you hit East 1st avenue then take a right, head up til you see a Tesoro gas station then go up North Sitka. It dead ends at Karen’s RV. That’s where he got his trailer. It’s a blue and white one, uh...fuck, I forget the number but Taylor’s got a one of them spotted dogs. Like the Disney movie with the old bitch trying to make a coat. My kid loves that movie.”

“A dalmatian?” 

“Yeah that’s it,” Kevin said, making a fist and hitting his knee. “Anyway, don’t forget to send your shipmates down here.”

“No problem,” Queen said, reciting the directions in his mind and he turned and went back to Ava. 

“Remember these directions,” he said, repeating them to her. “We gotta walk.” 

Queen put an arm around her shoulders and Kevin grinned, flashing him the double thumbs up and Canuck just scowled, going back to playing some game on his phone. The other guy hadn’t done a damn thing the whole time and hardly looked their way. 

After they got a few blocks up 3rd Street, they walked past businesses and warehouses. Queen stopped and looked at Ava, “Good job back there. Sorry you had to hear all that, it’s just how most of them talk. A lot of stupid macho shit.” 

“It’s...fine.” She said, her shoulders tensing in surprise as his arm wrapped around her before forcing herself to relax again. She threw away the wrapper from the Debbie cake in a passing trash can, the sweet sitting in the pit of her stomach like a stone. “We’re close to done, right?”

Queen let his arm drop once they were out of sight of Kevin and his crew. He lit a new cigarette and looked at her, “Well, to get the pills we both need, we gotta see this dude Taylor at the RV park. Look, if you really want I can have you wait for me at that gas station. Just stay inside and you’ll be fine. Drink some coffee, see if you can use the phone. I can handle this buy alone.”

He weighed the advantage of a second set of eyes and the fact she was a young, pretty female that was often a good distraction if he needed one but Ava was completely out of her element with him. Queen felt another stab of guilt at what he was exposing her to, with himself and just in the general area. Walking her through the rundown neighborhood known in Anchorage for violent crime and drug use. 

He got them moving again and as they walked they came across the low but sprawling concrete building with eight foot fences topped with concertina wire. The Anchorage Correctional Complex or better known as the local jail. Queen said nothing to her about what that was and just pushed her to move along. 

Ava pursed her lips at the suggestion, looking down at the sidewalk as she mulled it over. She didn’t want to leave Queen, part of her was afraid that if she let him out of her sight...he might not come back. And she’d be all on her own.

On the other hand, there was nothing she could realistically help him with by going to the deal. She also didn’t want to be around to hear...more of what Queen would have to say or do to get their respective medication. Whether prescribed or not.

She sighed, taking the cheap reader glasses off her face to rub at her eyes. “I don’t...think there’s anything I can do to help you, is there?”

Queen saw her reticence and breathed out smoke from his nostrils, “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or endanger you. I ain’t gonna lie, it’s not without some danger to go to a dude’s trailer you don’t know to buy illegal pills. But I kinda don’t want to leave you, we still don’t know what the hell happened and if anyone else is around or back at Noatak. It also helps put people at ease sometimes, when they see a woman, especially a pretty one that looks harmless. You’re an extra set of eyes for me, while I’m focused on Tyler or Tayler, Tailor? Whatever the fuck’s name is. Most likely, nothing will happen and we’ll get our shit and go.”

He raised an eyebrow, “If you really want to stay behind, I respect that. It’s not for everyone and I get that, I’ve already exposed you to enough bullshit for a day.” 

Ava looked up at him and took in a deep breath, putting the glasses back on her face. “Okay, I don’t really want to separate from you either. So, I’ll go.” She rubbed at the shoulder she fell on and tried to fight down the rush of anxiety through her system. “If I’m going to be an extra set of eyes for you, what do I need to look out for?”

Queen smiled, that mischief filled smirk on his bearded face and nodded, “That’s good, you’re a down bit...chick. I’m teasing...uh, well.”

He rubbed the back of his neck then smoothed his shoulder length hair, Ava was not the kind of person to call that and he did not want her to take it bad. He meant well but forgot occasionally not everyone was hood trash. 

“Mostly keeping an eye out for anyone that might pull a weapon to rob us. It’s rare but it happens  but if this dude is a legit dealer, he’d have little reason to rob us and more likely to make the sale. It’s hardly even a risk but I try to cover all angles,” 

She nodded, glancing to the small of his back where he had stashed the gun she’d gotten from the biker. “If I look like I’m hiding behind you, I can get to the revolver if we need it.” She pointed out to him, blinking in surprise at herself for coming up with that back up plan. 

Queen smiled, a moment of soft affection in his sea colored eyes mingling with amusement, “No, let me handle it. I just need you watching out. Even if it’s outside, in case someone rolls up. We’ll take a look around when we get to it. You got anything else you can use as a weapon?” 

Ava reached into her pocket and pulled out the large switchblade. “I have this. I can...menace someone with it?” She said with a small shrug, putting the knife back in her pocket. “I’d feel better if I had pepper spray or a taser.”

He tried not to make a face of doubt, then asked, “I take you never used one or maybe Dave showed you some tricks, he’s got that big ol’ buck knife he wears.”

“It’s alright,” Queen said then beckoned her to keep moving before they attracted attention. “Just keep it, but be careful. It can get turned against you if you hesitate.”

The walk was not very long, another fifteen minutes walking past homeless and junkies, Queen glaring daggers at any that tried to approach. There was a cluster near the FoodBank and the stink of stale beer was a cloud they had to walk through. Nothing he was not used to in the times he had to slum it but he kept Ava close at his side. 

Finally they turned onto North Sitka and the big sign pointed towards Karen’s RV Park. It was surprisingly scenic along the waterway, a sprawling location full of tourists and locals, big nice modern RVs and some without wheels up on blocks in semi permanent residents. It reminded him a little of the trailer park his mom was at now, fairly clean but with a touch of poverty under the veneer. Just the place a guy might make good money selling pills to aging housewives and teenagers. 

As they walked he heard a tinkling sound and glanced up, one rooted RV had a collection of wind chimes and the sunlight flashed off some of them. A sudden sick feeling knotted in his stomach and he felt uneasy, a sudden feeling that came and went as quickly as he could register it. He brushed his hair back, a tingling still there in his scalp. 

As they wandered he spotted another planted RV painted a soft blue and had a doghouse cobbled together from scrap wood and a black and white spotted dog chained up. Around their designated ‘yard’ was a six inch wire decorative fence that circled half dead pansies that look like they had been stepped on a few times. There was a pair of molded plastic chairs sitting out with a cable spool table, a scattering of beer cans around it. 

“This is it,” he said as they approached. 

The dalmatian sat up, his soft black ears perking up and Queen whistled low and said, “Hey puppy, it’s alright.”

The dog stood and moved quickly to the end of its chain and wagged its tail while barking, sending decidedly mixed signals. He whined and jumped up, straining the collar but clearly starving for attention. 

Queen reached out and the dog sniffed at him then barked, but turned to Ava and wiggled and whined. 

“Hmm, well good choice,” he told the dog then glanced at Ava, “He likes you.” 

Ava’s eyes brightened at the sight of the dog, smiling down as the dalmatian turned to her. “Oh hi pupper.” She said, holding out her hand to let him sniff her. “You are just the cutest little guard dog.” She cooed, reaching out to scritch his ears after he sniffed and bumped her hand with his nose. “You know, Cerberus means ‘spotted’ and I bet he’s as friendly as you.”

The heavy nylon collar was worn and had no tags, just the clipped-on chain that tethered him to the doghouse. The dog continued to bark and yelp until a loud, deep voice bellowed out the window. 

“Goddamnit, Prince, shut the fuck up!” 

Ava jumped up at the voice, backing away from the dog and closer to Queen out of reflex. “Cerberus is a better name.” She whispered up to Queen.

Queen smirked slightly at that and gave her hand a brush with his to assure her, “Yep.” 

He mounted the steps and knocked, then stood back until the door swung open. A big bearded man stood at the door, he might have once been stacked like Ghost but he’d let himself go and was slumping towards fat. He wore a too-tight Grunt Style t-shirt, a peek of hairy belly showing above his heavy leather belt. 

The man stared at Queen for a long moment then shifted his gaze to Ava and back again. “You friends of Kevin?”


Queen rubbed his nose and nodded, “Yeah, he called ahead.” 

The big man gave him a once over, “You carrying? Gonna have to pat you down.”

“Ain’t no need,” he said, “‘Course I’m carrying, this is still America ain’t it?”

“Damn straight, but show me,” he said, watching him intently. 

Queen lifted his undershirt to flash the inked flat stomach and turned to show the .38 tucked into his waistband. He bent to pull the black slacks up to show the socks but no weapons and turned out his pockets. “Satisfied?”

“Leave that gun,” he said, shifting his gaze to Ava once more. “She can hold it and stay out here. I just need one of yous.”

Queen nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, bud.” 

He turned to Ava, his back momentarily to the RV and removed the holster, taking his time as he whispered, “Take it, act like it’s the whole thing. 

Ava looked him in the eye, not nodding her head but conveying she understood and would follow his lead.

She still had the plastic shopping bags and Queen made a fuss of putting the gun in one of them and dropped it down the front of his pants, the cold steel making him hiss at it touched his junk. It was a small snub nosed revolver and the priest’s trousers were not as tight as he normally wore his pants. If he walked carefully he could keep the gun in place. 

“Alright, doll, just take a seat there,” the big man called Taylor said to Ava, “Won’t be long.” 

Queen walked gingerly up the stairs and nodded at the looming man who did not step back from his door, forcing Queen to squeeze by. Inside there was little furniture but an old sagging couch and a very nice Lazy Boy. A woman sat at the table, she looked like she might be studying. 

“Got a guest, Maggie,” Taylor grunted. 

She looked up and stared at them for a moment, then stiffened, “Oh?”

“Customer, so get off your ass and get us some beers. He’s got a girl outside.”

“Why is she outside?” Maggie snapped, closing her text book and stomped over to the fridge. She pulled out four beers, opening them with practice. “You bring him in but not her?”

“Maggie, shut up.”

“I know why,” she said, her thin mouth twisting in a frown. 

“Shut the fuck up, go keep her company if it bothers you so damn bad, woman,” Tayor snapped, snatching to of the beers from her. “Go on, fuck off outta my house.” 

Maggie stared daggers at him then shifted to look at Queen, her lips curling in an ugly sneer. “Figures.” 

She took the beers and left, letting the door slam. 

Taylor handed the bottle of Budwieser to Queen, “Fucking broads, I swear. Give her a house, pay for her schooling, still ain’t fucking happy.” 

He looked over Queen again and Queen found it a little more intrusive, more searching than wary. 

“So, Kevin said you had pills.”

“Yep.”

“Can...you show me?” Queen asked, hoping this wasn’t the kind of dealer that wanted to hang out. 

“Fucking Maggie,”  he said again,” She better not be out there TALKING SHIT!” 

He yelled it so it would be heard by the women in the small yard, the distinct accent now clear, Taylor was a son of Philadelphia or maybe north Jersey.

“Anyway,” the big man turned to Queen, “Got my stash in the bedroom, come on.”

The woman exited the RV, slamming the door and storming down the few steps. Her hair was dyed black, the chestnut roots starting to show as the wind from the river blew it wildly. Prince jumped up and barked, wiggling around but she ignored him, taking a plastic chair and slamming her ass into it. 

“Here. Have a beer,” she said, thunking it down. Her face was hardened, but still there was a prettiness there behind the anger mask. “Sit down, Prince. Damn dog.” 

She looked at Ava, crossing her legs and jiggling her foot, agitated. She wore tight jeans and Ugg boots, her dark green sweatshirt bore the mascot of the stylized Sea Wolf of UAA. “Can you believe that shit, I’m trying to study but he gets one...customer and it’s like...well, fuck me.” 

“FUCK YOU!” she called back at his audible accusation. 

She took a drink and turned  to Ava again, “So what’s your story? I’m Maggie.” 

Ava jumped as Maggie came storming out, blinking rapidly for a few moments. “Um, I’m Emma, just here for...well.” She shrugged stiffly, awkwardly trying to keep herself from blurting out ‘to buy drugs’. “Thanks for the beer, but I’m good.” She pointed over to Prince. “Can I pet him? He’s really cute.”

“Sure, knock yourself out,” Maggie said then chugged her beer before taking Ava’s untouched bottle. “Fucking Taylor got this dog for me for Christmas two years ago. Because I said the movie was cute, but that didn’t mean I wanted a dog. I knew I’d end up cleaning up the shit and taking him for walks. While his FAT AASSSSS sits around selling shit that I get for him because I got the goddamn job.” 

She twitched a little and sipped the beer, then pressed her forehead with her hand that was covering the bottle. “He just pisses me off sometimes. Especially when he does this shit.”

Maggie glanced at Ava petting the dog, “So you’re cool with your dude doing that? It doesn’t bother you?” 

Ava smiled down at Prince, ruffling his ears and laughing when he almost knocked her over in his excitement to play. She looked up at Maggie, listening to what she had been saying and feeling sorry for the poor dog. 

She managed to calm Prince down enough to just sit next to her while she petted him and tilted her head to the side. “Does what bother me?” Her initial instinct was to think she meant buying the drugs, but that was a strange question to ask given the reason they were there.

Prince wagged his whip like tail and slapped Ava's legs as he curled his body around, excited to get attention and affection. He tried licking her face and settled for her hands until he was sure she was not going to walk away then he settled in to sit and lean against her leg. His big eyes kept looking up at her in his spotted face. When her attention shifted to Maggie, he put a big paw in her lap, as if to remind her that he was there. 

Maggie rolled her eyes and took a drink, pinching her nose and she rubbed it. “You know, when he swings [i]that[/i] way. Acting like a fucking fag, he knows I hate it. Why am I not enough? You know you know why he took him aside alone. I know his fucking type. Your man is his type.” 

>...///

Inside the RV converted into a semi-permanent home, Taylor led Queen to the back room, having to shift his bulk to move sideways through the narrow doors. 

“Sorry about Maggie, she’s a fucking cokehead,” he spat, “Can’t even take a few Adderall? Nope, too good for it. So I have to drive down to the damn base to pick up her speedballs.” 

Queen perked up at that, “Oh yeah? Make that trip often I guess.” 

He shook his head as he opened a drawer, keeping his eye on the slender tattooed man. “Nah, fuck that. I just get her enough that’s supposed to last her for a while but she’s been snorting up like she’s Michele Pfieffer in Scarface. Finals. She’s studying to be a pharmacist.”

Taylor opened the tackle box and put a display of dozens of pill bottles, all of them the amber or blue from a pharmacy. “No knock off shit here, my friend.” 

Queen stared for a moment, the itch to snatch up the bottles and find what he needed pushed down. “So, how much for some bars? And you wouldn’t happen to have Klonopin.”

Taylor checked some of the bottles, “Huh, nah sorry. Is that shit good? Maggie might be able to snag some if you really want it.”

The burly dealer was looking at him intently and Queen now understood it, the hooded hungry gaze that kept traveling over his torso and lower. He was checking him out and mildly surprised, but Maggie’s reaction now made much more sense. 

Queen cleared his throat, tucking his hands into his pockets, feeling the hard edge of the gun in the crotch of his trousers. “Yeah, I want it.” 

Taylor perked up, raising a brow, “So, uh, 2 milligrams are $5 a piece, but that’s negotiable. Got some Oxycodone, you into that?”

Queen gave him a smoldering suggestive look, if he misjudged what Taylor was about then he probably would end up pissing off the big man but if not, he might make it out with the medicine and not be wiped out. 

“I’m into whatever you got in there,” he grinned, “Especially if the price is right.” 

Taylor stood up straighter, sucking in his beginner's gut, reaching to tug down the snug shirt but brushed the belt buckle. He groped himself and Queen smirked, he had judged his intent correct. 

>...///

Ava’s eyes widened. “Ooh.” She suddenly felt a crushing shroud of guilt settle on her shoulders as she stroked Prince’s head. “Uh, they could not be doing...that, right?” She said to Maggie, her eyes darting nervously toward the trailer door. 

Prince whined and panted, his pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as Ava stroked his sleek fur. He was a lean dog and ribby though he had a food dish with some brown dry pellets in it. He pawed at her again when she spoke, picking up her emotion. 

Maggie drank from the beer, narrowing her eyes, “Ever since Taylor did some time, he’s been like that. Maybe even before when he was in the Army, who fucking knows. He didn’t tell me about it until I caught him. I fucking caught him sucking some dude’s dick, some guy that he used to go ‘fishing’ with.”


She looked at the now empty bottle and hurled it against the ground, it struck a stone and smashed, leaving broken glass scattered among the wilting pansies. “How’d you find out about yours? Or does he even swing that way?”

Maggie laughed bitterly and toyed with the engagement ring, “He’s in for a big surprise then.” 

Ava felt her skin grow pale and she looked again to the trailer door. “Sh-should I be worried?” She asked Maggie. “Taylor isn’t going to...hurt him, is he? If he says no?”

“You should be worried about yourself,” Maggie said, picking up the second empty and toying with it. “Don’t worry, Taylor’s clean at least, I make sure of that. But I don’t know about your dude, he looked a little janky with all those tattoos, no offence.”

She looked over at Ava, “And what are you wearing? Does he have you dress like that or...whatever.”

“Taylor...I...huh, maybe,” Maggie pondered, shrugging. “I don’t know, he’s never hurt me but then he doesn’t fuck me like he used to.”

Maggie leaned forward, her hazel eyes almost a shade of gold in contrast to her tanned skin and dyed black hair, “Between you and me, Taylor might look like a big grizzly but he’s the fag, he likes it in the ass. Tries to get me to do it but fuck that, God gave me an innie.”

She laughed at her own vulgar joke and wiped away a tear, smearing her eyeliner. 

Ava shifted uncomfortably again, her heart starting to beat faster with concern for Queen. She didn’t hear anything coming from the trailer, no sounds of distress or a struggle. She looked back at the door. “Should we...Knock?” She asked. “Check on them?”

>...///

Taylor had his pants around his ankles and was now stroking himself, still holding in his gut to keep the power build appearance. “Lemme see yours now,” he panted, sitting back on the bed. “I got some condoms.”

Queen was shirtless, standing in front of the bigger man, having let go of him to tease at his zipper, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I got poppers,” he said, biting his lip under the beard. 

“Alright, close your eyes and open your mouth,” he said in a low growl. 

Taylor eagerly complied, his tongue extended in anticipation and Queen felt a ripple of distaste, this cocksucker just figured he’d just suck and fuck for pills. Maybe he would but not this day. Queen unzipped and took out the .38 and shoved the barrel into the man’s mouth, clacking against his teeth and cutting his gums. 

“Don’t fucking move,” Queen snapped, “Try grabbing me and your brains will be all over your bed.” 

Taylor stared with fear and fury, the veins standing out on his neck. Queen hushed him and said,  “Ah, don’t. I don’t mind killing you, to be honest. I’ve killed a lot more less deserving you fucking asshole.” 

Taylor looked into Queen’s eyes, the pale flat color told him he was speaking true. “Where’s your bitch keep her coke?”

“Hunhphh,” he gurgled, the barrel getting shoved harder into his mouth. “Fuuggh.” 

“Kitchen? Bedroom? Bathroom...ah, yes bathroom. Classic,” Queen said when he nodded at the third one. 

“Now, I’m going to take this gun out of your mouth, if you yell, if you try to get up or anything other than what I ask you to do, I will shoot you. Understand? Good.” 

Queen did not want to shoot the poor dumb bastard, the shot would draw attention and the death was unnecessary. He pulled back slowly, then said, “Get the money out of your stash, I want at least 2 grand, you can keep the rest. But I’m taking that box and the coke.”

Taylor stared at him then grimaced a bloody smile, “You fucking li-” 

His words cut off when Queen stepped forward, cracking the short hard barrel against the big man’s temple, gashing his scalp open causing a gush of blood down his bearded face. Queen reached back and pistol whipped him across the jaw, hearing a crunch that had to be molars. Shoving him back against the bed, Queen straddled his chest and struck him a few more times until Taylor slumped. His jaw was slack, blood trickling from his temple and mouth. 

Breathing hard, Queen swiped his hair back and tucked the gun into his waistband. The big man was breathing but the dent in his temple was likely serious and Queen moved fast. He grabbed the tackle box full of pills and then he jerked open drawers and dug around, finding a roll of bills and a loaded Glock 17. He put the gun in the small of his back and the money in the tackle box. 

“Poor dumb bastard,” he told the unconscious man. Before he left, he ripped the cables from the wall and used them to tie his wrists and ankles. It was not perfect and he could loosen them up with some time but it was something. 

Queen peeked out of the room, no Maggie. He glanced out the window and saw her with Ava. “Shit,” he muttered before rushing to the bathroom. He lifted the toilet tank and found the floating plastic box, inside what felt like half an ounce of coke. Tucking that in his pocket, he found Taylor’s  leather bomber jacket and threw it on, it hung from his narrow frame almost as bad as the t-shirt Ava wore. 

He looked out the door and thought about how he would deal with Maggie. [i]Time to see if you’re ride or die, bitch.[/i]

Queen yanked open the door, and flew down the stairs, using the revolver to cold cock Maggie in the back of the head. “Ava, run, go towards the river!”

Maggie snapped forward, her forehead bouncing off the wooden table and slid out of her chair into the dirt. “Asshole!” 

She rubbed her head and Queen aimed a kick at her jaw, trying to knock her out. His priest’s loafer was no steel toe boot but she was a small woman and it was enough to send her reeling, sprawled on her back. When she did not get up, Queen motioned to Ava, “We gotta go, move.” 

Ava jumped up from her chair when Queen came bursting out of the trailer and started assaulting the woman. “What the fuck dude!?” She exclaimed as she started to make a run for it.

She looked over to Prince, trying to chase after her and she gritted her teeth, running toward the dog house. She unclipped the chain and started to book it with the chain leash in hand. “Fuck today, fuck today, fuck today!”

Queen whooped like the southern boy he was and waved Ava on, “Bring him along, let’s boogie, Angel.” 

He ran carrying the tackle box and glanced back to make sure Ava was close with the spotted dog eagerly charging forward to drag her along. The chaos that he had ignited fed his adrenaline almost as good as a bump and he quickly jumped a four foot fence that separated the property from the down slope to the water’s edge. 

Queen turned and held out a hand, “Can you get over it? Don’t worry about the dog, I’ll haul him over.” 

A man stepped out of his RV, a tourist from the looks of it and saw them fleeing. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Mind your business, sir, you’ll be happier for it,” Queen said, the glimpse of the revolver tucked into his pants and bare chest was enough for the man to scramble back into the RV. 

“He might tattle, so let’s go take a cruise,” he said, helping Prince make it over the cyclone fence. “You good?” 

Ava dropped over the other side and looked at Queen with wide eyes. “No! But I don’t think we can talk about that right now!” She said, reaching down to pick up Prince’s chain.

Queen laughed at that and led her down to the creek, it was not too wide at this point and he recalled from the map it flowered towards the sound, widening and becoming more scenic. He jogged down the side of the creek, then finally spotted what he was looking for. Small boats like they had back in Miami for cruising the canals, just wooden hulls with an outboard or oars.  

“Here, this one,” he said, putting his tackle box on the bench seat then reached for the chain as Prince splashed into the water and hopped in, wagging his tail at the excitement after the two or three years chained in one spot. 

Queen turned and offered his hand, he could scoop her so she would not get her feet wet but the image of Dave and his buck knife came back so he reached down to pull the boat in another foot or so, holding it in place. “We’ll go down the creek aways, they probably assume we have a car or beat it back to the bus.”

Ava clambered into the boat with Queen’s help, sitting down in dumbfounded silence while holding onto Prince’s collar to make sure he didn’t jump out of the boat. “What happened? Are you okay?” She asked, her panic over the situation giving way to concern after what Maggie had told her.

Queen pushed the boat off, feeling the tug of the current that flowed westward and hopped in, ignoring the wet socks and shoes and moved to sit near the back. He reached down and looked for an oar, finding a single one and he struck out, rowing until Karen’s RV park vanished around a bend. 

He smiled, satisfied with himself and slid the oar back and looked at Ava, “This is Ship’s Creek, looks like we’re up it with a paddle. And hopefully a motor.”

Queen half stood and tilted the motor, squeezing the primer bulb to get the fluids going. He replied over his shoulder, concentrating on getting the old motor to wake up. “Well, he had a different idea of how I might pay for those pills. And you know, I might be a lot of things but I ain’t a whore. So I robbed him.”

Queen shrugged and glanced at Ava, a gleam in his sea colored eyes. He leaned back over the motor, “I didn’t kill him or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Just knocked him out, tied him up. Took his gun and money, the pills. We’re set, Angel. You got the bags, right?”

“Um, yeah.” Ava sighed, picking up the bags and holding them out to him, Prince laying down partially in her lap. He clearly didn’t get a lot of exercise and that had been a lot of excitement for the pup. She stroked the top of his head. “...Queen I stole a dog.”

He cranked the key over a few times and finally the motor caught, it was a lightweight two stroke but it would get them along quickly with the current. Queen laughed, glancing at the little redhead and the dalmatian dog. “You sure did,” he said, “Is that your first property crime?” 

Queen paused from steering and grabbed the priest’s shirt and pulled it on, leaving off the collar. He handed the stolen jacket to Ava in case she got cold or needed a cushion to sit on, it was warm and pleasant out in the sun. 

Settling back, he shifted the motor so the boat propelled itself down stream, keeping to the middle of the creek that narrowed in places though it seemed deep enough. It chugged along, leaving a stream of blue smoke and they passed such scenic views as parking lots and a huge scrapyard. But even in the drab urban landscape Alaska peeked through.

The afternoon September sky was brilliant blue, without a trace of haze or snow. The summer greenery was still on display and passed by willows and other trees he could not identify. The waterway was surprisingly clear and as he steered them he saw flashes of silver and rose. Late season salmon were still pushing up stream, occasionally jumping and splashing as they did. 

Prince would raise his head at the splashes but was otherwise content to snuggle against Ava and enjoy her attention and seemed not to care that he was drifting far from his home. Queen reached for a cigarette, lighting a Kools and enjoying the victory of relieving the streets of Anchorage of narcotic prescriptions. 

“Agent Patrick, you still got it,” he muttered to himself around the filter clenched between his teeth. 

Before long, the creek widened and grew more shallow and he could see up ahead bridges spanning across, to the left was a dock and several picnic tables all occupied by families and fly fishers looking to snag one of the salmon. Queen slowed the engine and made his way towards the shallow edge of the creek. 

“This is where we get off,” he said, picking up the tackle box. “Anyone asks, we’re just here for fishing but I lost my rod in a bad cast.” 

They walked by families having lunch in the last of the northern summer. Some people waved at what they assumed as a couple out to enjoy fishing and walking their dog. Prince was charming, excitedly barking and bowing at other dogs and children, tugging Ava around as he did. 

Beyond the scenic point, there was the sign for a Comfort Inn, the same one he had seen on the map he bought that had all the tourist need locations for the downtown area. “Might need to count that money and see what kinda room we can get. If they take dogs that is. Then, we go looking for anyone else from Noatak that might have popped up, if any.”

Ava nodded along, gently tugging or whistling Prince back to her when he started to get out of hand. The poor dog was starved for attention but that made him eager to please and listen to her.

“We can maybe drop him off at a shelter while we’re looking?” She suggested, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “I really didn’t think the whole thing through, I just knew I couldn’t leave him there.” She reached out to ruffle up the Dalmatian’s ears. “No I couldn’t, you weren’t happy there. You deserve a nice happy home because you’re the best boy.”

She looked back up at Queen. “We need a phone, try to call Donnelley or Foster, anyone.”

Queen glanced down at the dog, reaching to stroke the spotted fur and rub the floppy ear as Prince panted happily after his romp. “We need a phone first, a cheap burner phone, one of those prepaid things. Then we’ll figure out what to do with the dog.”

He glanced around then beckoned her over to the last picnic table before the scenic view park ended. Queen set the tackle box down and opened it enough to fish out the roll of bills. “Let’s see what ol’ boy was stashing. Probably had more than one spot.”

The coke in his pocket weighed at his attention but he would not take a bump yet, not with Ava there. Straddling the bench seat, he kept the money close to him as he counted so as not to attract attention. They were all fifties which amused Queen, who the hell used fifties anymore but those who never touched ATMs. 

He finished counting and sorted in the smaller bills from what Ava had given him. “I think we’ll be alright, Angel. We got just over a thousand now. We can get a room maybe, get something proper to eat and figure out what to do with the dog.”

Queen took two fifties out and folded them up, tucking it down into his shoe and then another two fifties and a twenty and handed them to Ava. “Just in case, I don’t want us to get separated but I don’t want you broke if it happens.” 

Ava’s eyes widened, glancing around nervously to make sure no one was hovering nearby and taking the money. She puzzled over where to put it for a moment before reluctantly putting it in her back pocket and hoping it didn’t fall out of the cavernous jeans. 

“Okay, we have money, that’s good.” She rubbed her hands together, trying to ignore the origins of that money and focus on the problem at hand. “So, should we go get that prepaid phone first or go secure a room for the night?”

“The room can wait, we need the phone and some food,” Queen said, glancing towards the Comfort Inn. “We’re near downtown, there’s no shortage of motels. We still need to get you some better clothes but we can use the daylight hours to keep looking.” 

He locked the tacklebox back up and glanced at her, “We can get one of those phones at any pharmacy or Walmart.” 

Ava nodded, her stomach cramping with hunger now that she didn’t have adrenaline pumping furiously through her system. “I would be up for some food.” She said, rubbing Prince’s head as it rested on her lap. “Sorry buddy, we’ve got some more walking.” 

The White Spot Cafe was just south of the fishing area, a moderately priced restaurant after Queen and Ava did a quick backtrack from the overpriced seafood place near the river. Without a smartphone for an Uber and with the dog, the bus was out of the question, they walked.

Prince was happy as a clam, wagging his tail and pulling Ava along when he wanted to follow a smell. It was clear the dog had little training or socialization but he was friendly and eager to please. 

The cafe had a few tables on the sidewalk and Queen took a seat, offering to hold the dog while Ava went inside and ordered them some food. “I don’t mind what you get me, I’d eat just about anything right now.”

Ava nodded and made her way inside, almost walking on auto pilot as she stared up at the menu. It was...strange, but it felt like she was developing a means to cope with everything that was happening. Her mind was grabbing at whatever task she could focus on in the moment, keeping herself going by jumping from one manageable problem to the next and ignoring everything else that was piling up at the back of her mind.

When they finally settled for the night and she had nothing left to distract herself with...she didn’t know what would happen.

Maybe that was why she had such a strong impulse to take Prince. A nice baked in distraction.

“Can I help you?” The teenager at the counter asked and Ava snapped herself out of her thoughts, realizing she was just standing there and staring blankly at the menu.

“Um, yeah, I’ll have…”

Ten or so minutes later, Ava walked out of the cafe with a tray filled with baskets of food and one large bowl of water. “Here you go buddy.” Ava said, setting down the water bowl. “I’ve got some plain sausages for him to eat too, but he needs to drink first.” She said, moving aside the basket of three plump sausages. “I got a tuna melt and some fish and chips, which do you want?”

Queen reached for the fried halibut and put in front of him, “You can’t wave french fries at me and not expect me to bite.” 

He picked up the ketchup and gave it a shake, watching Prince drink the water in sloppy gulps. “Can’t beat fresh fish,” he said, digging into the food. 

After a few bites, a young man stepped outside the cafe and brought two plastic cups full of lemonade. “You forgot your drinks, Miss.” 

He glanced at Queen and edged back and returned inside. Queen looked over at Ava, “How are you holding up, I know it’s been a little much today.” 

“...I honestly don’t know.” Ava answered with a frown, studying her tuna melt for a few moments before taking a bite. “I think I’m just kind of...numb? To it now?” She said, her eyebrows knitting together. “Like I’m in survival mode or something.”

Queen stuffed two fries into his mouth and chewed, watching her as she replied. His cheap sunglasses were back on his face and he hid his gaze. “Yep, probably. It’s been a day. You just gotta keep acting and never stand still, a moving target is harder to hit.”

He sighed and picked up a piece of the fried fish, a thick cut of local halibut. “It gets exhausting though, unless you get some help.”

The dark glasses masked his eyes but the angle of his gaze was at the tacklebox sitting at his feet. “Like the song says, I get by with a little help from my friends. Wherever you find it, Angel. And with whoever.” 

Ava studied him as she chewed, taking the time to mull over the words before looking down at her food. “Yeah.” She said quietly, picking up her lemonade and taking a sip. “Let’s eat and...get to finding our friends.”

Queen went back to eating for a while before he was unable to resist, he said, “You got Dave, dontcha?” 

Ava blinked at the question before a small smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, yeah I do.” She took in a breath. “I hope he’s okay, I’m sure he is but, still, I hope he’s okay.”

Queen smirked slightly, his expression still guarded. “I remember when we first met, I knew I’d called it right the way he was always aware of you. He’s a good man and seems to have a good heart.”

[i]Let’s see how long it lasts in this line of work.[/i] But he kept his mouth closed on the cynical remark. He tossed a fry to Prince who snapped it up and begged for more, even after eating the reindeer sausages. “He’ll be alright, probably worried sick about you though.” 

Queen stood up and wiped his hands on his napkins, there was little left on his plate and his glass was empty. “I’m gonna go inside and try to use their phone, call a taxi. We need to get to a Walmart and time is ticking, the days get short real quick up here. I don’t know when sunset is but I don’t want you caught without warm clothes.”

He left her there but took the tackle box, stepping into the cafe. 

“Excuse me,” he said to the teen behind the counter. “Mind if I use your phone? We need a taxi.” 

The boy scowled and looked at him then at the door, “Sorry, phone’s out.” 

“It’s out?”

“Yep.”

“Well do you have a cell phone?” 

“Why should I lend it to you? Surprised you junkies even had money to buy food here. Must be a nice change from the soup kitchen,” the young man sneered, suddenly brave without the cafe full of customers in the midafternoon 

Queen raised his brows then glanced around, “What’ll it cost me for you to call a fuckin’ taxi for me and my girl? And they need to take dogs, too.”

“Ten bucks,” the kid said. 

“Fuck you, here’s five and do it while I wait.” 

The counter boy took the five dollar bill and dialed up the local cab company. It was not long before a cab pulled up, a yellow one that had seen better days but the driver was a smiling native looking man with a round face and thick love handles. 

“How’s it going? Is that dog friendly?” 

Queen nodded, “Sure is, a real prince.” 

He opened the back door for Ava and the dog and their bags and took the passenger seat for himself. 

“Where to, Mister?” the driver asked, punching buttons on his meter. 

“Take us to your finest Walmart,” Queen replied, clicking his shoulder belt into place.

Ava stretched out her legs as Prince laid down and contentedly panted in the seat next to her. Her feet were killing her from all of the walking, the running and then more walking. It was a relief to sit down and get herself driven to a place. The sandals she bought at the pharmacy were hardly supportive and her calves were burning. 

She watched the buildings roll by, stroking the top of Prince’s head when he rested it on her lap. Her mind played over the conversation with Queen, frowning as she thought back on his tone and expression. Perhaps the strain of the day was just starting to settle on him, not to mention whatever had happened at the trailer. 

On top of the stress brought on by the general strangeness of their circumstances, he had to drag her around like...A lost dog. Having to ‘take care’ of her because she was borderline useless. No, not even borderline. She was useless in this setting.

She took the glasses off her face, rubbing at her eyes and fighting a sniff. [i]Keep it together, damnit.[/i] She scolded herself, shutting her eyes and leaning her head back against the seat. [i]You can do one thing to help make this easier and just keep it to-fucking-gether.[/i]

>...///

Donnelley stood in front of the meager selection of pay as you go phones and their cards. It didn’t take much sussing out to decide which one. There was a cheap Motorola smart phone for fifteen dollars, and a cheap card with just enough minutes for a few quick calls for twenty. He grabbed the card and turned to the counter, “Hey,” he called out, raising his hand, “Hey, ‘scuse me?”

Neither of the employees turned around, two Native girls talking and snickering over a conversation he felt he wasn’t supposed to hear. He waved again, starting to get a little annoyed, “Hey, [i]excuse me,[/i] please.”

One of the employees turned to him when they heard him, “Yeah?”

Donnelley pointed behind him at the phones, “Can I get some help here?”

The employee sighed and trudged over to him, a young woman who looked to be at the tail end of her high school career. Native, long black hair put up in a low bun. She looked at the phones and it seemed like watching an actor just before they slipped into a role, plastering a friendly smile on her face, “Which one were you looking at?”

Donnelley looked at her for a moment, not buying the fake smile a single bit. He’d have liked it more if she just didn’t smile at all, “The Motorola.”

“Oh, of course! Just give me [i]one second.[/i]” She looked up at him and giggled and then trudged back to the service counter, bending down and rummaging through a few boxes before retrieving the phone he was looking for, “Here you go, [i]sir![/i]”

Donnelley walked over to the counter and slapped down two twenties, sliding them across to her, “Here you go, ma’am, [i]thank you so much[/i] for your [i]wonderful service![/i]”

“No, [i]thank you[/i] for choosing Walmart.” The employee beamed up at his own exaggerated fake smile as she took the two twenties. They stared at each other smiling their most passive-aggressive, friendly smiles while she grabbed Donnelley’s change.

She handed over a single dime. Donnelley leaned in close, reading the girl’s nametag, “[i]Thank you, Amy.[/i]”

“No [i]problem[/i], sir.” Amy smiled back, her narrowed eyes more cutting than friendly.

Donnelley turned around as he grabbed the phone and it’s card off the counter, spotting one of the managers strutting down the aisle way across from the electronics section. He smirked. He walked away from the electronics service counter and up to the manager, a blonde woman in her fifties with some pooch around her waist and a face that maybe once was beautiful, but now just smelled like cigarettes and cheap makeup. Amy watched from the service counter, poking her friend to look as well.

The manager’s jaw dropped as she listened to Donnelley’s story, “And Amy and her friend were talkin’ ‘bout this here scar cross my neck. I don’t know what kinda delinquents you folks employ here, but I didn’t do no tours in Afghanistan protectin’ our great country from them Taliban to be treated this way.” He feigned offense and his best thick Texas drawl, “If’n I did somethin’ to offend her, I’m truly sorry, but all’s I was doin’ was askin’ for her to help me with these items here.”

He sighed, shaking his head, “I just wanted to call my son and daughter n’ tell ‘em…” Donnelley forced some hurt into his voice, “That daddy’s home, and he’s okay.”

Amy watched from the service counter as her manager marched her way. The last thing she saw before Donnelley disappeared down another aisle way was his smirk and dark eyes. “That [i]asshole…[/i]”

“My office, Amy, [i]right now![/i]”

>...///

Laine sat on the little bench with the mirrors as she tried on cheap sneakers, trying to keep the cost down around twenty dollars. She had a jacket from the discount rack, the fake fur trimmed hood and fleece lining at least seemed promising. She found some leggings that would fit properly and a pack of socks, cheap white ankle socks that could be shared with Donnelley. Everything was rapidly adding up with their limited funds and she kept a constant tally in her head. 

She put the shoes back and walked in her bare feet to pick another pair that were on sale and ugly as fuck but at least not a broken flip flop. Laine opened the pack of socks and put some on, then the shoes. They fit and would do, simple gray off brand walking shoes with a bold orange stripe along the side. 

She put the flipfops in the box and kept it so it could be scanned but wore the new shoes, popping off the tags, fuck the police. Next would be some toiletries and Laine gathered her clothes and the shoebox, holding them against her chest.

Donnelley found her when he almost bumped into her coming out of the shoe aisle she was in. He made to step back and apologize, but seeing it was Laine he smirked at her, “We need to stop meetin’ like this, people’ll talk.”

Laine smiled a little, reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, “Seems I’m just drawn to rugged redheads.”

She moved a little closer, though her items kept them apart, “Find a phone? We need some toiletries but this is all adding up. I thought Walmart was supposed to be cheap.” 

“Yeah,” he held up as shook the box and card held in hand, “Forty bucks right here. Let’s go get some teeth shit then.”

He looked around at the other aisles and led Laine towards the toiletries section, on the hunt for toothpaste and brushes. There was a feeling he had, like the hair on the back of his neck standing on end and he looked about. He figured it might have been that asshole Amy waiting in the shadows to stab him in the neck with a shitty Walmart knife from the kitchen aisle. As they finally made it to the toiletries aisle, Donnelley still felt it. He watched Laine scanning the shelves for cheap toothbrushes as he scanned the other customers milling about.

“Kids toothbrushes are usually cheaper, I’m not tryin’ to impress anyone.” He offered to her, eyes still searching for whatever threat his body was reacting to. This wasn’t just his normal hypervigilance, this was something more.

Laine bent over to find the cheap brands and found a double pack of small toothbrushes and took a travel sized toothpaste of the name brand, not wanting to scrimp there. It was annoying to play it so close to the dime with just the basic necessities but Donnelley seemed to know where to find the bargains. 

“I guess we can’t be picky,” she put back the little overpriced tube and took a generic one of a larger size. “At least I look the part of a Walmart shopper. A perfect cover.”

She stood up and struck a quick model pose in the too small sweatpants and the Betty Boop t-shirt. Laine could tell he was distracted but he had been since she found him. “I guess this is good enough.”

Putting the toothbrushes by the 3-1 body and shampoo wash she hefted the pile and said, “You really can’t come in here and not use a basket.”

After they checked out, she ducked into the restroom to put on the cheap bra and the leggings. Laine paused before throwing the teal sweats into the trash can, a guilty feeling creeping over her. This could be evidence. She glanced around but the stalls were empty and she shoved the sweat pants under the used paper towels.

She met Donnelley near the exit, the great blast of air conditioner hitting her as they walked out. Laine turned to look out at the parking lot, a sudden tingling along the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder then back out, the feeling of being watched was one she trusted, it had helped her avoid dangerous situations before. But she saw no one that stood out, leaving her unsettled. 

“Alright,” Donnelley said, “Let’s get back to the truck.”

Though he didn’t take the first step, instead just standing in place at the edge of the curb, looking into the cars, at the people walking to or from the Walmart. He felt threatened, but he couldn’t tell who was watching them. It could’ve been one of the others. Not Queen or Ava, but TRIDENT. Just like She-Ra had sprung to action. He reached over and slipped his fingers between Laine’s. Just like She-Ra, whoever else was after them he’d kill. “Just follow me to the 4Runner.”

Donnelley began walking back to the car, making as straight a line towards it as he could, walking fast. As he scanned the parking lot again, he caught sight of someone trailing them from the other row of cars, matching their pace.

Donnelley's reaction reinforced her sense of wariness. She clasped his hand tight and followed him, walking quickly with the red purse bouncing in her hip and the Walmart bag in her free hand. She caught a sense of movement between the cars, a man. She did not recognize him but something about the set of his shoulders and jawline frightened her and made her stomach knot up. 

Gripping Donnelley's hand she hurried, almost jogging now. "I don't know who that is, but I'm afraid," she said quietly, the sensation of fear and anger turning inside her.

“It’s okay, we’ll be okay.” Donnelley didn’t stare, only keeping him in his peripherals and glancing at him every few seconds. They finally got to the Toyota and Donnelley reached into his pocket, clicking the key fob and unlocking the door. “Just get in the driver’s seat. If anythin’ happens, just drive.”

Donnelley glanced sidelong at her, giving her a reassuring smirk, “Over him, if you can.”

Laine reached into her purse, pulling out the brass knuckles and pushed them at Donnelley. "Here," she said, "I have a folding knife, too."

She reached for it and glanced up seeing the man moving closer through the cars. "Shit, he looks Russian. Those tattoos…"

Laine scrambled into the truck, sitting rigid as she gripped the steering wheel. "Be careful, Donnelley. He's not looking for spare change."

Her heart was pounding and the sense of deep fear and loss washed over her as she looked at Donnelley. 

Donnelley passed the keys to Laine and exchanged them for the brass knuckles. As Laine slipped into the driver’s seat he closed the door, turning away from Laine and looking to the Russian. He balled his fist tight and stood square with the bigger man, “Too late for you to walk away?”

The Russian said nothing, just reached into his pocket and withdrew a pocket knife, flicking it open so the small three inch blade could be seen. Donnelley guessed that was his answer. They stepped closer and closer to each other until the Russian struck out with the knife intending to stab at him, but Donnelley turned to the side, pushing the Russian’s head bouncing painfully off the roof of another car and then planting the brass knuckles right into his teeth. Donnelley could hear them shatter against the hard brass and the Russian stumbled back, swiping wildly with his knife and spitting blood.

Donnelley threw another tight hook at the Russian’s face, eyes hateful and roaring his anger out, but he slipped Donnelley’s punch to his right. Donnelley turned to face him again, stepping to his right away from the other man’s knife arm. As quick as he could, Donnelley charged, growling for violence. The other man stepped back and saved his ribs from taking the brunt of Donnelley’s furious blow, Donnelley’s brass knuckles only roughly impacted and scraped off his stomach, still eliciting a grunt from the Russian.

Laine could see the fight, the Russian with his knife as it flashed in the sun. Donnelley drilled him in the mouth but it did little to stop the man. She felt a deep dread when she looked at him and it only took the next swing and miss and Laine was throwing the truck into reverse.

“No you fucking don’t,” she hissed, stomping on the gas. 

She reached over the back of her seat, turning to look out the back window at the Russian, trusting Donnelley to get out of the way. Gunning the engine, she tore backward from the parking spot. A deep and visceral hate erupted from deep in the pit of her chest as she met eyes with the Russian in her rear view mirror for the briefest second. 

The Toyota’s bumper struck the big Russian, his head cracked off the corner just above the tail lights, knocking him down but Laine didn't brake. He fell under the tire and the weight of the SUV bore down on his torso as it passed over him. When the truck passed over the bump, Laine put it back into drive and the tires spun and ran back over the Russian, blood now pouring from his mouth and nose after his chest was turned to hamburger meat under the tire. 

Donnelley stumbled back and watched it happen, leaning to rest with his back against another car watching Laine end the Russian in a spectacular fashion. He rested there for a couple seconds even after the Russian had stopped breathing, but shook himself from his stupor and grabbed the man’s folding knife. He folded the blade back into the handle and slipped it into his own pocket and hefted the body, knowing they’d need to get rid of it somewhere.

>...///

The yellow cab pulled up outside the entrance of the Walmart and Queen was contemplating taking a bump of the coke in his pocket in the bathroom. The baggie in his pocket beckoned at him and he kept touching the lump under the black cloth. His priest collar was back in place, he had fixed it in the drop down mirror and ignored the sidelong looks from the driver. 

“That’ll be $26.50,” the cabbie said but Queen’s attention was caught by movement in the parking lot. 

His attunement to violence was sharp and he spotted two men from the corner of his eye, squaring off to fight but not like normal pushing and shouting. These men were fighters and the flash of ginger hair and a scarred face made Queen freeze. He lifted the cheap sunglasses to get a better look but he was almost certain he recognized the stance of his friend.

“Fucking, Tex.” 

Queen grinned, reaching in his pocket and found a fifty dollar bill and tossed it to the cab driver, “You never saw us, bud.” 

The priest’s shirt rode up as he bent to leave the cab, the gun in his back waistband flashing and the driver pointedly looked away and through the windshield. 

“Let’s go,” he said, turning to Ava and the dog, “Stay down and keep an eye out, if you see anyone running towards them or me… warn us.”

He hesitated then gave her the Glock 17, a gun he was certain she knew how to use as it was close to the federal issued 19. Without another word, he dashed away, the .38 in hand, held close to his side as he ran towards the brawl. 

Ava’s eyes widened when she heard Queen utter the name Tex. She sat up straighter, heart racing with excitement and relief that another of her team was there. She couldn’t see well what was happening in the distance but she could make out the way the blurred shapes were moving that it wasn’t good.

She turned to Queen when he handed her the Glock, grimacing with fear but taking it anyway. She took one of her $50s as Queen got out and tossed in the front seat as well and reached down to snag the tackle box Queen left behind to tuck under one arm, carrying the plastic bags in her grip. Then she took a breath and darted out of the taxi with a newly rejuvenated Prince happily following after her; the gun held low at her side like Dave had taught her.

Queen closed in but as he was going to take aim at the big tattooed man flashing a knife, a Toyota 4-Runner slammed back against him and made sure he was not getting back up. He paused and recognized the female driver with short dark hair, then slowed his stride, tucking the gun back into his waistband. 

“Figures I’d run into you fighting in a Walmart parking lot, you goddamn redneck.” 

Donnelley looked up at the familiar voice, seeing a priest standing before him. His eyebrow quirked as his mind worked at piecing together who he was looking at, all the while he was frozen midway in the act of hefting a dead Russian to cover up a vehicular homicide. His jaw went slack and he muttered out a quiet, [url= https://open.spotify.com/track/64dHj8ZxaI2Wj0brEehVMN?si=8iyznPF3Qu-k7P0j0-LdyQ]“What the [i]fuck…[/i]”[/url]