Playing Tyler (22 page)

“Drug addiction is a disease. He can get better.” He reaches his hand out, touches my shoulder.

Again, that laugh. That short sound that I don't even recognize as being mine leaves my mouth and words singe my tongue as I say, “I don't buy that line anymore, doc. But thanks.”

The doctor pauses, like he wants to say something else, then takes his hand back, and moves over to the other side of the curtained room to check on the other patient. I look down at B, all fucked-up. All skinny and weak with a bad heart. And I know, deep in some pit inside me, that he's not going to get better. Not ever. And I'm too chickenshit to even kick him awake. To talk to him now while there's still time.

Have to walk, have to get out of here. I stand, pushing my feet hard into the tile of the floor, and stomp down the hall, down the stairs. Pace the food court. Pace and wait until the doctor's words enter my head and can stay there without hurting so much.

The cafeteria's closed, but I walk over to the vending machine, buy some crackers and a Powerade, the noise from the machine echoing in the darkened room. I grab the food and pull out my cell.

“Mom?” I say as she picks up.

“Tyler? Where are you? Aren't you home?”

Can't she fucking function? I need her, dammit. Swallow it, swallow it, Ty. You love your mom. “No, Mom. I'm at the hospital. With Brandon. He OD'd again.”

A cleaning cart making its way down the hall outside the cafeteria is the only sound I can hear. “What can you do about it? You should come home.”

“He's sick, Mom. Has some heart condition, disease, I don't know. They say he's…” Can't say it can't think it saying it makes it real. “He's dying.”

The cart clanks and then a boom and then a vacuum starts up, sucking up grime. “Come home, baby.”

Fuck. I end the call. Fine. What did I expect? I sit at an empty table, head heavy, aching. So tired. If I just close my eyes maybe all this bullshit will go away.

I wake up with a jump as some lady kicks the back of my chair.

“Sorry,” she mumbles and wipes her eyes with the sleeve on her sweater. Damn, did I fall asleep? How long have I been down here? Got to get back to his room, I can sleep up there. Those chairs at least are padded.

Grinding my hands into my head, I get up. I pound my way up the stairs, hitting each step hard. Maybe by now it'll just be the nurses on duty and I can spend the rest of the day without having anyone else come in the room and talk to me about B. I want the quiet.

Making my way down his hall as I open the jar of Powerade, I swing into his room.

But it's empty.

 

CHAPTER 26

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31

TYLER

The car outside is honking. What time is it? I roll over. Hate it when people honk at dawn. It's rude. Sore eyes looking over to the clock. 8am. Great. That gives me what, like, three hours of sleep last night? Honk again.

Dammit. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I rub my hands over my face. Hard. Get up, walk down the hall. “Mom,” I call. Suitcases lying around her feet, cup of coffee in her hand. She yanks a bungee around her two carry-ons. She's leaving. My head tries to keep up with my eyes. “Where are you going?”

She looks up. “Oh, Tyler. On that business trip to Los Angeles, remember?”

“You didn't tell me you were going on a trip.”

“I thought I mentioned it.”

“You didn't.” I grit my teeth. “You can go to California on business, but you can't bother to call B. He's really sick and-”

“I have to go. The car is outside.” She locks the cord around her suitcase and opens the door for the driver, lips pressed tight together, eyes down. Why do I even ask? Just pisses me off. Should know better. Should stop being pissed that she's too burned to care.

“You have to help me. We have to get Brandon back into the hospital, he's says he's taking the antibiotics as pills but Dr Feinburg said that he needs to get them intravenously and–”

“I have to go, Tyler.” She kisses me on the cheek. Light kiss. Like she didn't even hear what I just said. Maybe she didn't. Maybe every time I say B's name she goes someplace else. Someplace where he can't hurt her anymore. My hands ache to reach out and shake her, wake her up, make her help me, make her fight for B, but I don't. I can't.

At least she's telling me she's leaving. Last time I only found out she was away on business when I called her office at like eleven at night to find out why she wasn't home. “How long?”

“A week.”

“Can you text me the name of your hotel?” Sounds reasonable. Like something family is supposed to ask.

“Sure.” I walk up to her, kiss her on the forehead and she wipes her blond hair back behind her ear as she looks up at me. “My car keys are on the counter, OK? Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.” I watch the guy load the bags in the car. Hope he drives slow. Hate those drivers that go too fast. Scares me thinking about Mom being driven around by some guy I don't really know. Deep breath, Ty, she'll be fine.

I wait until the car drives out of sight, then I walk back into the kitchen. How soon can I get to Ani's? The keys are on the counter, just like Mom said. Her car is nice. Rides real nice. But I have a lot of time. Sucks. Maybe I'll drive it over to the bagel shop and eat some breakfast.

 

It's mid-afternoon. Ani's at class, Mom's gone and I'm flying. Following a bunch of trucks. Mostly I'm a traffic cop, really. Flying over a gazillion miles of road. Really dull. At least today there are trucks on the road. The ones for that Pakistani company Rick says brings in supplies for a few NATO bases in Helmand province, I guess. For the past two days it's been nothing but roads. Roads and the damn trucks. Rick says it will get better soon. After the “big reveal” or whatever so he can put me in charge of a drone clan. Says it will give me someone to talk to. About what, though? I mean, should I tell them about the missions or the fact that my brother was in a hospital dying and my mother wouldn't even call him? They're gonna talk to me once and run away screaming.

The trucks roll over the border, which is only marked on my screen with a big, yellow, superimposed line like the first down line in a TV broadcast of the NFL. They take forever to get through the damn checkpoint. I put the primary drone on a circle pattern over them and stand up. Have to stretch. I reach out behind me and go over to the iPod dock for a second. Getting bored with the same old songs. Need something new. Need something fast and hard that will keep me awake for a few more hours so I can see these trucks through the rest of their run. Hate to leave something not finished. Perfect. They're through the checkpoint and moving again. I set the tail.

Want Rick to get his money's worth. They're paying me so much. In cash. It's weird. Cool as shit. But weird.

I yank the cuff off my arm for a minute and roll down the hall to the kitchen. Grab a Pizza Pocket. Go back. Great. They're on the road. I hook up the cuff again, sit down in the leather chair I swear is molded to my ass permanently, and watch.

The delivery goes as it usually does. Takes a few hours. The trucks roll into the city and pull up to the building which I guess is like a hospital or distribution center or something. Maybe a NATO base: all buildings look pretty much like big concrete rectangles from the sky. Guys all wearing the same kind of uniform come out and meet the drivers. They sit and have tea or whatever after unloading all the trucks. The first time I watched I sort of freaked because the drivers just got out of the trucks and disappeared for a while.

So boring. Seriously. Watching a bunch of empty trucks idling is about as exciting as watching rocks. Whatever. SKY comes through. Another drone needed for cover on a different road. Great, now I get two screens of nothing.

I put the second drone on the surveillance route and give it screen two. Drivers on screen one are getting back into their trucks. They roll out, driving slowly through town. Back towards the border. Surveillance mission on second drone is clear. No activity, just empty highway.

But the trucks. The trucks, once outside of the city, pull off the road, take a detour. Pull up in front of some building. The drivers get out. Greet the people on the ground. Then they all start loading up the trucks. Filling three trucks with crates. Crates that they're going to drive back over the border into Pakistan.

My throat itches and I take a swig of Dew. Doesn't help. My stomach tightens. This is the fifth time I've seen them do this. I look at the latitude and longitude of the building. Just outside of Baram Cha.

It's not right. I'm supposed to make sure that supplies get into Helmand province. Bring soldiers food and medicine and good things. But what the hell are the trucks taking out?

The drivers shut the back doors of the trucks and before long they are rolling through the border. Border guys just wave them on through. Do they see me? Up in the air, flying over trucks that are supposed to be empty? Hell of a thing, to have protection like these trucks have.

It's cool. It has to be cool. Rick would never be involved in something that wasn't cool.

Unless he doesn't know. I pick up the phone, dial. “Ani?”

“Hey, Tyler. I can't talk, I'm walking into class.” Her voice sounds so good. Need to hear it. Need her.

“Can I come by later? I need to talk to you about something,” I ask, leaning forward. I run my hands over my scalp, not wanting to watch the trucks anymore.

“Not today, I have a test first thing in the morning. I can see you when it's over, though. How about tomorrow night?”

Sucks. “Yeah, fine. See you then.”

“Perfect. Talk soon, OK?”

“OK, bye.” I hang up. Stare at the phone in my hand. Look up at the screens. The trucks are rolling past the border, rolling through Pakistani territory. What the fuck are they doing?

 

CHAPTER 27

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 1

TYLER

Think I just got overrun by a bus full of zombies. Doesn't matter.

“What do you know about the missions, about the routes?” I ask. Holding my voice steady. Level. Calm.

Ani looks down at her controller, puts it at her feet. She looks better, feels better, but her voice is still a little nasal. “I help program the targets.”

“Right, but do you program in the patrol routes? The ones Rick said were for a contract Haranco has with some Pakistani security firm?” I don't watch the screen.

“No.”

“You know where I fly them, though.”

“Everybody flies those routes.”

“Ani, I…” I take the controller out of her hand. Put it down, look over my shoulder, making sure the door to her room is closed. “I need to know what's in those trucks.”

She looks distant, like her eyes go someplace else. “Why don't you ask your buddy Mr Anderson?”

Right. “He says that the trucks move supplies into Afghanistan.”

Her face is hard, eyes set, looking at the game screen. “Well, then what's your problem?”

“They're delivering the supplies like he said, but then they're stopping. Stopping before they get back to Pakistan, picking up truckloads of… something. Then driving it back over the border to Pakistan. I need to know what that something is.”

Silence. I'm looking into her face, angled away from me. Like she's counting the specks on the tile of the floor. After what feels like forever she says, “How many times have you seen this happen?”

“I don't know, at least four or five times.” I don't want to say it, but I do. “Twice yesterday, few times over the past couple of weeks. They can't be moving the same type of supplies back out of Afghanistan.”

She opens her mouth but doesn't speak. Not right away, still looking at the damn floor. “I wouldn't think so. This is in Helmand province, right?”

“Yeah, just outside of Baram Cha.” I take my eyes off of her, lines of her face telling me nothing. I run my hands through my hair. “What's in those trucks?”

“Are you going to make me say it?” Her voice soft.

“What?”

“I mean, there's only one obvious answer here, Tyler, and I think you know what it is.” Her words come fast now. “And if what you're saying is true then I'm walking away. I know it's all you've got and I know it means I'll have to leave Yale but I can't anymore. I can't be a part of this.”

“What are you talking about? I don't know, that's why I'm here talking to you.”

“Come on. You're not stupid.” She stands up, eyebrows coming together. “You wouldn't be here talking with me about this if you didn't know the answer to your own question. He's been lying to me from the start, but this? I can't believe Mr Anderson would do this! I can't believe that he would use my program to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Drugs, Tyler.” She pushes at my chest, throwing me back against the base of the platform bed. “Helmand province. The only cash crop they have over there is opium poppies. Opium, heroin, morphine – call it whatever you want but I can almost guarantee you that that's what is in those trucks.”

“There's no way. Rick would never agree to fly cover for them if they were running drugs.” Rick will kill them when he finds out. Have to tell him. Tell him what's going on so he can stop it.

“He knows about the drugs.” She stands up, wrapping her arms around her own waist. “It's his business to know everything about Haranco and their contracts.”

“No way. Those guys are shits. I mean, like, they just load up the trucks, out in the open, people just drive on by and they don't even care. If it was drugs people would stop them, say something to the police.”