Anarchista

From Anarchista:

KRISTA FIDGETED IN HER SEAT. “How about we stop, maybe take a little stroll?”

“How about we don’t?” Ada asked. “The further we go, the better I feel.”

“We should pull over. I’m getting antsy, maybe from caffeine deprivation or something. I’ve absolutely got to get out of this feckin car.”

Ada spotted a metal canopy ahead on the roadside. “That looks like a gas station. Maybe we can find something to eat.”

“That’s perfect. I’m starving, and I wouldn’t mind finding a working toilet.” She slowed and eyed the darkened building. It had only two islands and four rusted pumps, and a banner stretched across the canopy advertised cold beer and juicy nightcrawlers.

“And I left my banjo at home,” Ada said.

“It’ll be okay. I’ve got a good feeling about this. But what do we do with the goon while we’re inside? If you give me the gun, I guess I can stay out here and watch him.”

“Don’t worry,” Ada said. “He won’t wake up anytime soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, trust me.”

Krista pulled under the sagging canopy and up to the entrance. A darkened neon sign over it said EMINENCE SPEEDIMART. No other buildings were in sight; the place was surrounded by fields of tobacco plants and nothing else except a side road.

She pulled the parking brake and then glanced at the truck’s thumbpad. She wouldn’t be able to restart the engine if she turned it off, so she left it running and climbed out. “Behold the city of Eminence!” She heaved her heavy pack from the backseat and walked around the back of the truck. “Now where’d I put my bucket list?”

Ada was already standing at the front door. She swung the briefcase behind her and rammed the glass door with it, but it bounced off. “What the hell kinda glass is this?” she asked.

Krista swung her backpack at it, but the glass didn’t even crack. “This backpack weighs about twenty pounds. If that won’t break it, nothing will. You’ve got to pick the lock.”

“Why pick the lock when you can bust the glass? That’s way more fun.” She turned and ran to the truck, opened the rear door and rummaged inside, and then returned carrying a black shotgun with a drum underneath the barrel.

Krista stood back. “What are you going to do with that?”

Ada slammed the butt of the rifle into the glass, and the gun thundered and bucked out of her hands. They dropped to the ground and covered their heads with their arms.

Krista opened one eye and saw the shotgun lying on the sidewalk, a curl of blue smoke drifting from the muzzle. “Damn it! You didn’t turn it off first?”

“I guess I didn’t,” Ada said, rubbing her ears. “Wow, was that ever loud!”

“You could kill somebody! Find the off switch before you pick up that damned thing again!”

“Well, you show me where the off switch is!”

“What?” Krista looked at her blankly. “Mother of God, I’m sure I’ve gone stone deaf. All I hear are whistles.” She walked back and forth trying to shake the sound from her head. As she passed the truck, she spotted a constellation of small holes in the rear fender. “Jaysus, look at this!”

“Shut up, already. It’s stolen.”

“That coulda been me!” She cupped her hands and looked through the back window. “At least the noise didn’t wake up the goon.”

Ada found a small button near the trigger. “Here’s the off button.”

“Splendid, just splendid.”

Ada banged on the glass another time, but it wouldn’t break.

“Just pick the damn lock, for chrissakes. It’ll be faster.”

“No.” She walked back a few paces, waved Krista away, and raised the gun to her shoulder.

“Uh-oh,” Krista said, covering her ears and cringing. “Don’t do it, don’t do it…”

Ada squeezed the trigger, and the weapon bucked in her hands three times, obliterating the glass in the door and the window next to it. Inside the store, a cloud of shredded cardboard and paper fluttered to the floor.

“You’re dangerous, girl,” Krista said as she rose from her crouch.

Ada smiled back. “Oh, yeah.” She flipped the safety and ran her hands along the barrel, which had the name ‘Maussner’ engraved on it in ornate letters. “You shall be my Scepter of Power, Mickey Maussner.” She hoisted the shotgun onto her shoulder, picked up her bookbag and briefcase, and climbed through the blasted door. “I have a new best friend now. Mickey knows how to fight back, at least.”

“I’m so bloody happy for you two. Let me know when Mickey can drive a car, wouldja?”

The racks near the door were wrecked, and the newspapers on it were pockmarked and shredded. The rest of the store was mostly empty, though.

They walked to the restrooms. Krista finished first and started searching the darkened store for anything edible. The coolers still held a few bottles of juice, which she stuffed into her backpack, but the shelves in the middle of the store were empty. She walked to a coffee urn and flipped the handle. Nothing came out.

Under a hot dog rack, she found a stale bun and ate half, pocketing the rest for Ada. She checked the soda machines, the sandwich displays, and even rifled through the trash can, but the only food in the store was the meager bun.

Ada walked out and set her briefcase near the door. “Find anything? My stomach’s already rumbling.”

Krista shook her head and handed her the half-eaten bun. “Only this.” They walked to the checkout, where Krista searched the shelves under the cashier’s counter. She pulled out a box and found two chocolate bars. “Oh, here we go! Two Rhesus Chunky Munky bars –”

Ada snatched a bar from Krista’s hand, peeled it, and swallowed it in one bite. “Gonna eat yours?” she asked, and then she licked her lips and eyed Krista’s bar. Krista slipped it into her hoodie.

Ada walked to the clerk’s side of the counter, gnawing on the stale bun, and then she knelt and pulled something from a drawer. “Hey, guess what I found.” She dropped a jar of instant coffee on the counter.

Krista’s eyes widened, and she twisted the lid off so fast that it hovered in the air a second before falling to the counter. She licked her little finger, dipped it into the jar, and sucked the furry digit. “Mmm, come to Mama,” she moaned.

“That’s revolting,” Ada said.

Krista nodded and dipped her finger in again.

“I can’t watch this.” Ada turned away and searched the countertop next to the broken window. “Jubilations! They have Kamelles!” She grabbed every pack she could find, shook the broken glass off, and stuffed them into her bookbag until it could hold no more. “You want smokes?”

Krista pulled the finger from her mouth. “Absolutely. Get me some Breathless Menthols, wouldja?” She dipped it back into the coffee jar.

“I don’t see any, but they have Reapers,” Ada said, holding up a fluorescent orange pack of cigarettes. She waved her hand over them in prize-show model fashion. “You know what they say: ‘Go for the Burn.’ They have a killer kick.”

“Blech. I tried those once and hacked up chunks for days. It’s the Breathless or nothing.”

“I’ll look.” She searched again and found a small cardboard rack leaning against a piece of unbroken window. “Oh, here they are.” She stuffed a few handfuls into Krista’s bag, and as she was reaching for more, she glanced through the window and froze in place. The truck was gone.

She dropped to the floor. “Get down!”

“What?”

“I said get down! Now!”

Krista crouched behind the counter and Ada duck-walked from behind it.

“What’s the matter?” Krista asked.

“The truck isn’t out there!”

“Huh?” Krista blinked a few times. “Where’d it go?”

“How the hell would I know?” Ada slipped the shotgun from her shoulder. “The Federals might’ve taken it, and we have to assume they’re out there right now.” She crawled to the end of the counter, pulled her briefcase over, and peeked around the corner. “I don’t see anything, but then I wouldn’t expect to. They’re probably concealed.”

“And if they are out there, we’re trapped.”

Ada nodded slowly and clicked the shotgun’s safety off. “We might have to fight our way out.”