Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1) (20 page)

       Mel grabbed Rick’s arm and forcefully escorted him over to the booth where Roger was sitting still happily chatting with his pocket.  Rick plopped down on the old seat next to Roger and looked expectantly at Mel.  Pete returned shortly with four cold sodas and handed them out before sitting next to Mel.

      “Okay.  I know I’ve seen some strange crap so far, but that thing was not natural.  What was it?”  Rick asked after taking a long drink.  It wasn’t grape, but it would have to do.

      Pete looked at Mel and sighed deeply.  “It’s a left over, bra.  It’s from a very bad place.”

      Mel set his can down on the faded white table top and held it firmly in both hands.  “Or it could be a new arrival, Pete.  Rick, I’ve got to tell you some more disturbing things that aren’t going to make a lot of sense.  I hoped we could work you into this gradually, deal with the learning curve a little slower.  But, seeing that spider today means we don’t have a lot of time.  I’m hoping Roger here will help us with that.   If you promise not to hit me again, I’ll tell you what happened before.”  He said with grim determination.  “A few years back, maybe a decade now, Roger here was working with the Company as a Seer.  He got picked for that position after they realized he had the talent for seeing into multiple reality lines.  He was still in the Navy then.  Well, one day ole Rog gets the biggest red flag from the streams that he’s ever seen.  It turns out a tear was coming along the likes of which no one at the Company had seen in a long time, and it was coming right here in Guam.   There were little signs of it everywhere, things changing shape or color.”

      “Like a Crown Victoria,” Rick said.

      Mel chuckled.  “Yeah, something like that.  But, this thing hit us unprepared, Rick.  We hadn’t had a major event in over two decades, and we got complacent.  The younger agents didn’t have the expertise to handle it, and those that did were tied up on other jobs.  There were no excuses for it.  But, it just happened so fast.  By the time we got the Trackers out it was too late.  Our time ran out, and the tear started fast, real fast.  You can’t remember what a big reality tear looks like, Rick, especially a really bad one.  This was a really bad one.”  Mel looked down at his can, clearly disturbed by the memory of it.

     “And I smelled milk, bad milk.”  Roger added.

    “Roger was the first to spot it coming.”  Mel elaborated.  “He tried to warn the regular Company people, but the warnings got muddled in bureaucracy.”

    “That was a lot of bad milk,” Roger added.  “I have a pet cockroach!” He eagerly explained. “And he talks.”

     “Well, before you know it we were in a full- blown crisis and swimming in…in big ugly nasty man-eating spiders.  There were thousands of them that came out of the tear from somewhere.  They fell on the island, and boy was it nasty.  Initially, it was confined to this area.  Hundreds of people were killed, the island virtually destroyed.  But, then it started to spread to other parts of the globe.  It took every resource we had to seal the tear and defeat the army of arachnids.  That’s why it’s still called the Great Arachnid War.  We lost a lot of innocent people that day.  We failed to do the one primary task we have, which is to detect things before the event arrives and save lives.  That’s our primary function.  Hundreds of thousands were dead by the end of it.”  Mel trailed off into silence.

      Rick had reached the point, listening silently to Mel’s story, where he simply did not have an adequate response.  He was completely at a loss as to what to say.  So, instead of something pithy, he simply said. “Crap.”
      “I made a promise to myself and others that I would never let it happen again,” Mel said in a tone filled with more depth and resolve then Rick had heard out of him yet. “That’s when Roger went south on us.  Some things are just too much for one person to handle.”

      “I don’t much care for milk anymore, either,” Roger added.

      “Now, here we are, staring down the barrel of another catastrophe.  And I don’t plan on playing catch-up this time while people die. That’s why we need you, Roger.”  Mel looked at his twin who was smiling.

      “What about it, Roger?”  Rick asked him.  “What have you seen?”

       “I told the Managers.  They brought me magazines to read from the future.  Another bad time is coming.  I’ve seen it.  I also saw you and a white Crown Victoria.  Want to know what you were doing?”  Roger asked cheerfully. 

      Mel interrupted. “What did you see, Roger?  Did you see where it was coming from?”

       Roger shifted a little and ignored Mel questions.  “I think it would be neat to remember when you were a baby, don’t you think?”  He asked Rick.  “I saw the tear, and it was big.  I also saw an old Viking guy on a ship.  He was dressed in yellow armor, and he was fat.  I think blue was more his color.”  He smiled happily.  “Stay away from Rio de Janeiro, Rick.”  He leaned over and whispered.  “Bad things happen to you there.”

      “What about the tear, Rog?  Where is it coming from?”  Mel persisted, growing a little frustrated.  “We need you to tell us where it’s coming from so we can fix it.”

       Roger remained silent, staring down at the table top.

       “Roger?”  Rick asked softly.  “Do you know?”

       Roger looked up again, his face downcast. “Not a clue,” He said, and he started talking to his shirt pocket again.  “But, I do know you don’t have much time.”  He added.

       Pete looked worried at Mel.  “How much time, Rog?”  He asked.

     Roger tried to concentrate, and the effort made him twist and contort his face into a strange looking mask.  “Just a few days, at most.”  He said slowly.  “And the rocket’s red glare.” 

      Rick was uncomfortably dissatisfied.  “That’s it? That’s all he’s got?”

     “Roger, you’re sure you don’t know where it’s starting from?”  Mel asked again.

      Roger smiled again.  “I can’t see it.  But, I know somebody who can.”  He said in a half teasing half mocking kind of voice.

      Mel sighed deeply and sat back in the booth.  Pete seemed agitated beside him.

      “He doesn’t know, bra.”  He looked over at Mel.

      “We’re gonna need somebody else.”  Mel grudgingly spoke.  “We’re gonna need the best.  And we’re gonna need him fast.  We can’t fool with the Company trackers.  They’ll take too long.”

      Pete sighed deeply and sat back against the booth.  “The Tracker,” He muttered.

      Rick’s eyes darted back and forth between them.  “Wait a minute.”  He was more aggravated than usual. “We just broke Roger here out of some techno-twisted psych ward, illegally I might remind you, so he could tell us, according to you, what’s about to happen.  And now you’re saying we need someone else too?  And who’s the Tracker?”

     Mel let the criticism slide for the moment. “The Tracker is the best tracking agent the Company ever had.  There’s been a lot of Trackers in the day, even some now.  But, this guy was the best.  No one could outdo him, and he could find anything.  And I do mean anything.”  Mel explained.

     “Da trouble is, he don’t work just for anybody.  He was never a full-time Company Tracker.  He sorta work on his own, like me.”  Pete added.

     “Which means we need Tormodis, too.”  Mel sat back and let out an exasperated sigh.  “Why?   Why do things always have to work this way?”  Mel reflected.

       Rick opened his mouth ready to infuse the conversation with some more critical observations.  But, Mel saw it coming and headed it off.  “He’s another piece of this business I don’t like to talk about.  Not the most pleasant person in the world and that’s on good days.  Pete’s worked with him more than I have.  He’s an older guy, maybe 60ish, heavy set, real nasty temper and not easy to deal with.  But, he’s got this unique ability, and he only works free-lance with the Company.  But, he’s the only one that the Tracker will work with.  If we need the Tracker, then we need Tormodis first.”

     “And dat’s not gonna be easy.  He go where he wants to.  Impossible to trace wid my gear.”  Pete added.

     “We’re just going to have to try,” Mel said.  “What choice do we have? We already have one spider out there.  No telling how many more are wandering the jungles as we speak.  We need to get back to the Pot and see what we can find.”

     Rick looked at him stunned.  “Back?!  We just left!”

      Pete shook his head emphatically.  “What you got to do first is get some sleep, bra.  You runnin’ on nutin’.  You make bad decisions when you tired, Mel.  Everybody does.”

     Mel leaned over closer to his old mentor.  “We already have spiders in the jungle, Pete.”

     Roger laughed.  “That sounds like an old sixties war protest song.”  He began to sing. “
We
got spiders…in the jungle…
”

     Pete cut him off.  “Things will be alright till morning.  Da Island will manage wid one or two of dem spiders.  ‘sides Rog here done tolt us we got, at least, one day, maybe two.”

     Rick huffed slightly.  “I don’t understand you guys. I’m gonna get something to eat.”  He declared and got up to raid the kitchen of anything resembling dinner.

     Pete raised his short, thick finger in the air.  “And I’m gonna get the guns.  We might need dim before the mornin’.”  Pete took the motto
Always Be Prepared
as a life mantra.  Being prepared had saved him more times than he could remember. “And tell Dennis to keep the room ready.” He added as he exited the back door of the diner.

      The sky over Guam began to grow an ominous red color as the sun settled in the west.   But, no one on the island, nor anywhere else, seemed to notice.  Weird things happened all the time on the island.  This was, after all, the Pacific Rim, home to the super typhoon, Godzilla, giant spiders and Pete’s Barbecue.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Old Debts

     “Margaret, do we have to carry all of this around?”  Sam Rogers questioned his young wife, realizing the answer to his question before it was completely out of his mouth. 

       Margaret replied with a semi-pouty lip and wide hurtful brown eyes meant to engage his manly sense of chivalry.  But, Sam was immune to this ploy for sympathy.   She had used it on him too many times in the past.  “Just carry the bags, Tor.  That’s what I married you for.”  She promptly moved to the next shop, chuckling to herself when she realized that her little retort rhymed.  He was standing there with four white shopping bags in each hand; his shoulders slumped in abject dejection.

      “Great.  I thought it was my ample personality.”  He replied and followed her into the busy boutique.  He instantly regretted it.  It was yet another shop filled with women’s clothing, women’s shoes, and women’s accessories.  How could women possibly need this many shops?  He caught up to her looking at purses, really expensive red purses with monograms on them that he didn’t recognize.  “I mean why can’t I just pop home real quick with these bags and then be back before lunch?  Why do I have to carry them around everywhere?”

       Margaret didn’t let him distract her from her quest for another purse, an expensive purse.  “I told you.  We’re normal today, just like everyone else.  And we’re going to act normal.  So, be quiet and let me look.”  She commanded.

      He watched her move in and out of the many racks, inspecting every little item that she came across.  He hated shopping with her, but he couldn’t help wanting to at the same time.  She was so radiant.  Her round face framed in her long brown hair, her big brown eyes scanning the merchandise and her small frame moving like a fairy in and out of the stand and racks.  He was enamored of her, had been since he met her just four years ago.  He loved her completely and, in truth, would do anything she asked him to.  But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t complain about it first.  He had some male pride.

      “Why did it have to be Tampa?  I hate Tampa; you know that.”  He whined.

       She shot him a disapproving look as she set down another pair of designer shoes.  “We haven’t been here before.  I just wanted to come.”

       Sam sighed.  “I’ve been here before.  And it wasn’t a pleasant experience.”

       “You shouldn’t let one little incident spoil you on the whole place.”  She chided him.  She found a silk scarf that matched her light complexion and began to model it in a mirror.  “Besides, that was a long time ago.”

      “Long time yet.”  He corrected her. 

      “Whatever.  It was one time.  You were young.”  She laughed as she spun lightly around with her scarf.   “Grab a taxi for us.  I’m going to buy these purses and this scarf.”

       Sam’s eyes widened in surprise.  “You already have six purses here.  How much is this stuff?”

      Margaret waved her finger in the air disapprovingly.  “If you have to ask…”  She started.  “Besides, I don’t think you’re going to miss the pocket change.  You promised me you would let me shop and not give me a hard time.  Now, taxi, please.”  She smiled at him.