'Til Death Do Us Part (38 page)

BOOK: 'Til Death Do Us Part
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I don

t know about dad either
, sis.
And
if he isn

t coming back
,
then maybe it

s time for me to maybe step up and be the man of the family.

Nicole

s first reaction was to snort out in laughter, but his serious tone and the
nature of the topic did not warrant it. This was serious business they were dealing with
,
and she was more than a little pleased that some of her father was bleeding out of her brother.


Thank you
, Justin,

s
he said tenderly.


For what?

h
e asked, thinking she might be setting him up for something.


Just for being there.

T
hen she did laugh a little as his chest puffed out.


I can keep us safe,

h
e told her.

Or I

ll die trying.


Just stick to the safe part
,
brother, the baby is going to need his uncles.


I know I don

t say it often
,
Nicole, but I love you
.
Brendan was my friend
,
and I miss him
,
too. I

ll do whatever I need to so that we all stay safe.


Thank you
, baby brother.
I love you
,
too.


Now move your fat ass over so I can sit down.


There

s the Justin, I know and love.

Travis came in
carrying
some plates loaded with sandwiches and bread.


Thanks
, man,

Justin said to his brother.


These are mine
, go get your own,

Travis said as he sat
d
own across from his siblings.


Travis!

Tracy call
ed
from the kitchen.


Fine,

he said as he stuffed a handful of the chips from Justin

s plate into his mouth before handing it over.

 

CHAPTE
R
EIGHTEEN

D,
G
&
BT

 


I

m running low on cigarettes,

Deneaux
said.


Good
,
because I don

t know how much longer I had before black lung kicked
in,

BT said as he drove the big truck down the near empty highway.


We need to stop for fuel and clothes for Gary anyway
,

Mrs.
Deneaux
pleaded.


What

s wrong with my clothes?

Gary asked.


Please, I

ve smelled dumps on hot summer days that are
pleasantly
aromatic
compared to you,

s
he told him.


I can

t i
magine you ever going to a dump,

BT said to her.


I

ve had reason
,

s
he replied flatly.


I don

t even want to know,

BT said.


I wouldn

t tell you anyway. All I know is that if I run out of cigarettes I plan on ma
king your life a living hell,

s
he told him.

BT laughed.

Ah
,
as if I

m living the dream right now.


I do kind of smell bad,

Gary said
,
pulling his shirt up to his nose.


I know you do
, buddy.
I just didn

t want to give her the satisfaction.

BT paused before speaking again.

I hate pulling off the highway, all the shit happens when we do.


Beats walking,

Gary said.


Barely.


We

re
coming up on some gas stations,

Mrs.
Deneaux
said with some excitement as she pointed to the blue information highway sign.


Everyone locked and loaded?

BT asked as he got over to the right lane and put his blinker on.

Habit,

h
e said aloud when he noticed Gary and Mrs.
Deneaux
looking at him.
BT got
to the bottom of the exit ramp;
there were two stations to the right and one to the left.

Any preference?

he asked the group.


More chance of
supplies with the two stations,

Deneaux
said.


And more
chances people have been there,

Gary answered.

BT put his blinker on, signaling his intention of going left.

Sorry, it

s difficult to break a
twenty-
year old habit.

BT stayed on the roadway, with the truck idling as they looked closely at the gas station.


It

s definitely had visitor
s,

Gary said
,
looking over
Deneaux

s
shoulder.


Would you mind not getting too close?

s
he asked him with no small measure of venom in her voice. Sh
e had smoked her last cigarette
over five minutes previous and she was already fe
eling the effects of withdrawal—whether real or imagined—
it didn

t matter.
She
was
getting as angry as a republican at a tree hugging ceremony.

You just going to sit here?

s
he asked BT
, not hiding her hostility
. Before he could even answer
,
she had opened her door and was climbing down. When her feet hit the ground she pulled the revolver from its harness.


I feel sorry for whatev
er poor bastard gets in her way,

BT said.


I think I see some t-shirts.

Gary peer
ed
into the store
’s
smashed front windows. The gas station was more of the variety store that just happened to sell gas than an outright petrol server. It was
resplendent
with cheap souvenirs made in China reminding travelers that they had visited the great state of Virginia. Gary climbed down also.

BT swung the truck int
o the station. When he shut
it off, it was the quiet more than anything that unnerved him. It just wasn

t a natural silence.

Gary. Diesel?

h
e asked when he got the other man

s attention.

Gary pointed to the large side tank on the truck, outlined in crisp yellow letters was the word

diesel
.


Yeah you can kiss my ass
, too,

BT said as he went over to the underground filling tanks.
Maybe we shou
ld just steal a damn fuel truck
, h
e thought as he pulled the small metal disc up.
T
hen he remembered the old Mel Gibson movie
Road Warrior
and rethought his
plan
.

Yeah that didn

t work out so well either.

BT walked into the store
. I
t looked a lot more intact than he would have expected. Not perfect
,
but there were still some supplies left and at least half of the shelving was still up. Gary had found a five gallon
jug of water and a bar of soap. H
e placed the water carefully on top of one of the remaining standing shelves. He then stripped off most of his clothes before popping the top on the water. BT turned away quickly when he realized Gary

s tigh
tie-
whities were going to be see-
through as soon as they got wet.

Deneaux
was rummaging in the back of the clerk counter.

They only have fucking menthol!

s
he
fumed
.

Do I look black!

she was full-
on shouting now.


That

s kind of racist don

t you think?

BT asked.


It

s not racist if it

s the truth
,

s
he said looking up.

Why you black people like to smoke them is beyond me.


First off
,
I don

t smoke.


Oh I
was just using generalizations. H
elp me find something for a more civilized palate.

BT walked away.
He
went into the service bay looking for something that would help him get some gas out of the ground.
I wonder?
h
e thought as he unscrewed a hand pump from a fifty gallon drum of what appeared to
be waste oil. He found a large-
throated hose that screwed on to the assembly.

Glad no one else thought of this,

he said
,
going out the garage door instead of going back past Gary and the vitriol spewing
Deneaux
.

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