Outland (World-Lines Book 1) (15 page)

July 20              Suzie

Suzie and her friends were sitting in the rec room at the Union. They’d agreed to get together to talk about their latest assignment in Late Antiquity. However, someone had left the TV on
CNN
, and the network was playing an almost continuous loop about the Yellowstone activity. In fact, no one in the room was paying much attention to anything but the TV.

“That is so freaky!” Frankie said. There were nods of agreement around the table.

“I was talking to one of the geology students,” Suzie said, “and he insisted that this activity isn’t significant enough to be alarming. He said if Yellowstone didn’t act up like this every hundred years or so, it would be a surprise.”

“Funny, I don’t feel better,” Frankie answered. “That’s still a whole lot of fire and brimstone.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go there on vacation this summer,” Stephanie said.

“You get vacations?” Maddie asked, mock-surprised.

Stephanie made a face. “You know what I mean.”

“Wouldn’t it be neat if it did erupt, though?” Frankie asked.

There were stares of disbelief. “Neat?” Suzie asked. “What do you mean?”

“You know, romantic. Back to medieval life, battling nature, heroes and villains, all that.” Frankie’s tone made it obvious that he was kidding.

“Better not say that around the geology people. They have
no
sense of humor where this all is concerned.”

“Well, look, we’ve had at least three major volcanoes that I can think of in the last fifty years, and we’re still here,” Joy commented.

“Yes, but Professor Collins is tossing around the word
supervolcano,
and I for one don’t care for that,” Suzie said.

“
I for one don’t care for that
,” Frankie laughed. “You, my dear, are a master of understatement.”

Suzie bowed to him.

They all turned to the TV again as the endless loop of repeated reporting again started displaying close-ups of impressive volcanic activity.

July 20-23              Charles

The group met as usual at the warehouse, with two rented motor homes. This system had worked so well last time, why mess with it? They loaded up the land yachts, locked up, and drove off. As they left the warehouse complex, a black SUV pulled away from the curb and drove in the same direction.

***

“They didn’t do anything
,
Andy!” Charles was beyond frustrated at what he felt had been a total waste of his time. Four days that he would never get back, driving for hours, or sitting for hours watching a couple of motor homes where nothing ever happened. And to make things worse, his boss didn’t believe him.

“So, let’s go over this again, Charles. They drove to the Black Hills area.”

“Yes.”

“They rented a couple of spots in a camping ground.”

“Again, yes.”

“And other than some evenings around a campfire, they never left their motor homes the entire weekend?”

“That’s correct. Yes. Then on the third morning, they checked out and came home. Unpacked
all
that equipment at the warehouse, and returned the rented motor homes. Absolutely, utterly
pointless.”

Bluto didn’t say a word, but he nodded in agreement at every statement.

“We went back and visited their warehouse operation again earlier this evening,” Charles said, “to see if we could learn anything new. There’s even
more
stuff in there. They’re starting to look like survivalists to me. Where are they planning to go, though?”

Andy got a thoughtful look on his face. He started to respond but at that moment, his phone rang. “One second…” Andy said to Charles.

“Hello. Yes, it is I. No, that’s okay. Uh huh. I see.
How much?
Thank you. Yes, most appreciated. Good bye.”

Andrew turned to Charles. “That was our good friend Lem, who advises me that another random kid came into his place of business today with a lame story and dropped off what to Lem’s experienced eye looks like about
three pounds
of raw gold. Given that Lem thinks they may be distributing their gold across as many as ten offices, that works out to over five hundred thousand dollars, earned through four days in a couple of motor homes.

“And it would seem, Charles, that they managed to do this right under your nose.”

“I’m not an idiot, Andy, and I didn’t fall asleep. There’s something more involved.”

“To be frank,
Charles, I am inclined to agree with you. I believe there is more going on here than meets the eye. Remember all that scientific equipment you were saying they loaded and unloaded? And they went to a location that
once had
a monumental gold rush. And there are these
shopping sprees
that we have been observing.
Nouveau Riche
indeed. Yes, more than meets the eye.” Andy thought for a second.

“I believe I have divined their secret. We will pay a visit to our new partners tomorrow.”

“Will there be
leaning?”
Bluto asked.

Andy smiled. “There may well be, my friend. There may well be.”

July 24

Matt

Matt and Erin walked into the warehouse, to find everyone else already there.

“You’re late,” Bill called to Matt.

“No,” Matt replied, “you’re early.”

Erin rolled her eyes, gave Matt’s hand a quick squeeze, and went to talk to Monica.

Matt walked over to where Bill and Richard were poring over some documents. The back of one of the pages indicated that it was the instructions for building the metal sheds that Bill had purchased.

Bill smiled at Matt. “Richard and I seem to have different opinions about how this is supposed to go together.”

Richard looked up. “That’s the first thing he’s said that’s correct.” He smiled for a brief moment before returning his gaze to the document.

Was that a joke?
Matt was surprised. He looked at Bill, but he was too absorbed in the problem at hand.

Matt sighed and looked around the warehouse. The agenda for today included a good bit of organizing, as well as construction of the metal sheds. The buying sprees had resulted in large haphazard piles of goods scattered around the warehouse. It was time to start making use of their purchases, starting with setting up a presence in Outland.

Monica and Erin walked over to join the group.

“We ready to get started?” Monica asked.

Richard and Bill put down the installation instructions. Richard said to Bill, “We’ll have another look at this once we have the area prepped. For now, let’s get the gate opened and get stuff across, okay?”

Monica headed to the kitchen to grab some leftover pizza, while Richard and Kevin set up the truck-sized gate.

Richard had rented a bobcat with a shovel attachment and a forklift attachment, and a compact backhoe for trenches. This had raised some eyebrows at the rental company, but the credit card passed muster, and business is business.

Bill had a shotgun near at hand in case something decided to investigate from the other side, but experience had shown that the sudden appearance of a hole in the air tended to scare off the local wildlife.

As they turned on the gate, Monica’s voice came from the corner, dripping with annoyance. “Someone’s been eating my porridge.”

“Huh?”

“The pizza. There were still three pieces left. I know this because I put them in the fridge myself. They’re gone. Which one of you crumbs ate my snack?”

Everyone exchanged glances. “Did anyone come in late last night or early this morning?” Richard asked. He waited for a response, but was met with silence.

“Well, that’s odd,” Richard muttered. “Have we been broken into? Everyone look around please. See if anything’s missing. Other than pizza, I mean.”

They had just started heading in various directions to look things over, when a voice from the doorway said, “Perhaps I can help you gentlemen, and ladies, with that question.”

Matt looked over to see three men entering the warehouse. They were each holding handguns and waving them quite nonchalantly.

“Good afternoon,” continued the man who seemed to be in charge. “My name is Andrew Petrelli, and these are my associates. We’d like to talk to you about some large gold transactions that you have made in the recent past.”

“You’re cops?”

“No, of course not. We’re just concerned citizens.” The man smiled, but it never reached his eyes. “Initially my associates conjectured that you might be making gold in the manner of the medieval alchemists, but I see from that—” pointing to the open gate, “—that there is another possibility. Time travel perhaps? Seems like a dangerous pastime, particularly for a group of college kids with no experience in that area.”

“We were thinking you might need some accident insurance,” the largest one added.

Mr Petrelli frowned at this interruption. “Please let me take care of the negotiations,
Trevor
.”

Trevor said nothing, but his face got very red and he scowled at the back of his boss’ head.

Matt realized that his friends had been in the process of scattering around the warehouse when they were stopped by the goons. This placed the goons at a disadvantage as they now had to look in several directions to keep track of everyone. Matt expected that their next step would be to herd everyone together in one spot, and that would leave the group helpless.
Time for a distraction
.

Matt stepped forward, getting as close to Mr. Petrelli as he dared. Slouching and trying for a whiny voice, he said, “This is none of your business. Hit the road, or we call the cops.”

Petrelli looked at him for a moment in disbelief, then laughed. “You got moxie, kid.”

He actually said ‘moxie’
, Matt thought.
Is this guy straight out of a movie?

“How about you shut up now and I don’t have to hurt you.” Petrelli continued, with a sneer on his face.

Matt looked out of the corner of his eye. Erin stood between one goon and a pile of camping gear. She was resting her hand casually on a small portable propane canister. Richard had managed to sidle just outside of the other goon’s peripheral vision. And Bill had the shotgun, if he could be given the time to grab it.

Now or never
, Matt thought, and put on his best sneer. “What’re you gonna do, fatso? Sit on me? Or maybe get
Trevor
there to do it?”

Petrelli got very red and angry, and Trevor actually snarled. The third goon rolled his eyes.

Trevor stepped forward at the same time as Petrelli raised his gun to pistol-whip Matt. Matt, expecting this, relaxed into the zone and watched the world go into slow-motion.

As Petrelli’s right hand came down at Matt’s head, Matt raised his left arm in to block. While that arm redirected the blow to the outside, his right hand shot up to strike Petrelli in the point of the chin with an open-palm strike. Petrelli was a big man, but the jaw and teeth aren’t protected by a whole lot of muscle. Petrelli broke several teeth and missed a broken jaw only because Matt didn’t have the angle. Matt’s knee came up into Petrelli’s abdomen, just below the breastbone. There was a
woofff
as Petrelli lost any breath he may have had and folded at the waist. Matt pushed down on the back of Petrelli’s head and pulled up on his right shoulder. Petrelli did a perfect horizontal pirouette, marred only by a face-first landing on the concrete floor as he completed the rotation. There was a loud crunch as his nose shattered.

***

Richard

Meanwhile, Charles had brought up his gun, possibly to take a shot, possibly to make threats. Before he could make his intentions known, Richard whispered, “Hey asshole.”

As Charles turned towards him, Richard delivered a horizontal elbow strike to the center of Charles’ forehead. Since the blow was backed by 220 pounds of angry physicist, Charles went down without an argument.

***

Bluto

Bluto was momentarily frozen as he witnessed attacks on both Charles and Andy. He made a decision and moved to help his boss. In doing so, he dismissed Erin and Monica as non-combatants.

In Bluto’s world, women didn’t fight. Women screamed while holding their faces. Or women ran while screaming. Or best yet, women grabbed their boyfriend’s arm and tried to drag them away from the fight, in effect hobbling them.

The first indication that Bluto had miscalculated was a propane canister spranging into the side of his head. The canister made a surprisingly pure
ping
sound, and Bluto saw stars. There was another
ping
and more stars as Erin applied a second treatment. Then Monica came around in front of Bluto and wound up into a full-on punt kick where it would do him the least good. The effort was marred by a bad angle and by Bluto’s thick thighs, but it was still more than enough to make him lose interest in his boss’ problems.

Somehow, Bluto didn’t lose his gun, and he didn’t quite go to his knees. Gathering every ounce of strength he had, he forced out “You
bitch!
” while slowly bringing up the gun.

The girls squealed and ran in different directions. As Bluto started to swivel and aim, he heard a
clickety-click
. He turned his head to see one of the kids bearing down on him holding a pump-action shotgun. The kid had murder on his face, and he had the drop on Bluto. Bluto decided to depend on the general principle that decent law-abiding people won’t shoot you in the back. He turned, grabbed his boss by the collar, and yanked him off the ground.

Andy came up, his face a swollen and bleeding mass of red with two unfocused eyes staring out of the mess. Bluto turned toward the exit, but the damned kid with the twelve-gauge had cut him off. The bitch that had nutted him was yelling at the kid to shoot, and she looked like she was running to get a weapon herself. Charles was staggering to his feet, but didn’t look like he was going to be much help for a while. Bluto looked around frantically. Normally, he took orders from Andy. Andy did management. Bluto did the work.

He looked at the big open door to the field outside. Bluto had a moment of puzzlement—he was sure they hadn’t driven far enough to be completely out of town. But it was an exit, it didn’t have a kid with a gun in front of it, and they could always circle around and come back once they regrouped.

And when they did, these kids would get a lesson in manners.

Bluto dragged himself and his boss through the big exit to the meadow— and freedom— beyond. Charles, still wobbly, grabbed his gun from the floor and dove through the exit as well, running to catch up with his associates.

***

Omni

Richard stomped over to the gate, grabbed one of the cables, and yanked it out. The gate closed. “And fuck you very much!” he yelled into the air.

There was a moment of stunned, frozen silence as everyone tried to take in the events of the last few minutes. Erin stood there with her hands over her mouth, gasping. Monica had an expression on her face that suggested she’d like to go another round. Kevin was off to the side, bent over and moaning, “Oh god, oh god.” From the odor, he had thrown up. Bill stood in place, staring down at the shotgun in his hand.

“What the hell just happened?” Bill asked. For once, he had no witticisms or movie references to offer.

“We just got a visit from the mob, I think,” Richard said.

“Mob, hell,” Monica retorted. “If that guy was Italian, I’m Mike the Knight. Did you hear him? He talked like Fat Tony from the Simpsons.”

Matt smiled weakly. “Moxie.”

Richard said, “Okay, so those were some local tough guys who thought they’d muscle in on us. Which raises the question, of course:
How in the nine circles of hell did they find out about us?
”

“You heard what he said,” Erin replied. “ ‘Large gold transactions.’ Someone blabbed.” She went over to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Well this is just fucking great.” Richard exclaimed. “We can’t use any of those offices anymore?”

“Holy hell,” Bill chimed in. “This was supposed to be so straightforward. Got a cool new invention, go get gold, trade for money, live happily ever after. Not so much, as it turns out.”

Richard sat down and put his head in his hands. “I can’t believe the extent to which I keep getting things wrong.”

There was a moment of silence. “So what now?” Matt asked.

Richard started to reply, hesitated for a moment, then said, “We have well over a million in the bank. We can walk away right now.”

“Two hundred thou each, give or take,” Matt said. “It’s nice money, and no question it’s life-changing, but you can’t retire on it. We’d still all have to get jobs, or—”

Monica interrupted, almost shouting. “Y’know what? I bet our faux mobsters there are it. I bet it’s just the three of them, otherwise they’d have brought more. Some small-town tough guys who are used to beating on crack-heads. I am not going to let them rule my life. I say we just keep to the plan.”

Monica’s speech seemed to give everyone new heart. They stood a little straighter, looked more resolute.

“Hey guys?” it was Kevin. He was cleaning up after himself. He looked hangdog and shame-faced. “Does anyone remember that those guys went through the gate? They’re on the other side.”

“So? Fuck’em.” Monica said.

“It’s not just that. I’m not happy about leaving them to die, even if they did point guns at us. But they’ll come back once they figure out there’s no civilization out there. We can’t set up our storage sheds here. They still have guns. Two, anyways.”

Everyone was silent for a few seconds.

“All right, how about this?” Monica said. “We put a written message on the other side, on a piece of plywood or something. We’ll check every day at some specified time for some number of days, using the pole-cam. We’ll bring them back if they toss their guns through first and come through with their hands up. If they don’t come back, there’s nothing we could do anyway. None of us is a tracker.”

“That sounds like a good compromise,” Richard said. “And if they talk about our operation, we’ll press charges. Not foolproof, but better than a kick in the crotch.”