Pablo
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Thunk. Skreeeeeeeeee.
The truck's metal doors creaked open.
Finally.
"How's it going?" A tall slab of man beef hinged himself over the truck's frame, caressing the floor. His face was in shadow, but he glowed like an ugly, chisel-jawed angel.
Saved by the Garrett.
Pablo could kiss him if he weren't such a slimy, oil-stained mother-fucker.
"It's about time," Pablo muttered.
Cass whipped her head his direction and glared. Like she was surprised Pablo had a voice. He did. If only she knew what he had to say. She slumped into the wall and folded her arms. Typical princess behavior.
Next to her, Sansi stretched her arms, straightening her elbows, "Garrett, what was going on out there? We thought we were being mauled by bears."
"Yeah, it got pretty bumpy." Cass' brilliant observation.
Garrett pulled himself up. Truck squealing and tilting. Pablo braced himself for an ass-surfing balancing act as the truck bounced from Garrett's weight. The floor stopped moving when Garrett found his place in front of the barrels.
He wasn't wearing his hood. Greasy brown hair yanked into a short ponytail. His beard was growing in patches like back hair on a chin.
He straightened and put his hands on his hips, as though he was in charge. He's not.
Behind him, the sky was dark. No lights. No blue glow. Just a dim light from the moon. The empty air didn't look like Zafran. Where they always went for their "missions". Zafran might be a hellhole, but it had lights that could attract mythical moth gods.
"The bears were bigger than the truck and were out for blood."
Garrett's voice was dull and serious. He always did that. "Just a bunch of rocks and small hills. Bess popped a tire, so I had to patch her up. Sorry for the bumpy ride. Would've let you know what was going on, but we were having some problems."
Pablo leaned in, hand resting on a barrel, "Hey, where are we? Satan's asshole?" He scratched at the wood, tearing slivers out with his fingernail.
Garrett smiled and curled his arm around a barrel like he was on a date with it.
"Not exactly, but I like your enthusiasm."
"I mean it. I missed the briefing."
"There was no briefing." Garrett shrugged, "You're lucky I had trunks." He grinned.
Sansi and Cass laughed. Pablo smiled like an idiot. Asshole looked proud of himself. It wasn't funny.
No briefing. Pablo slumped against the wall, head heavy. This would have gone very differently if Miles had been involved. Pablo had doubts about Miles' leadership, but this proved how much they needed him. Goddamnit Miles.
The smell of sap was heavy and burned Pablo's nostrils. Fumes made his head sting like a stab to the brain. "I need air." He stood, almost stumbling. He pulled his feet from the barrels and crawled across the seat, knees clinging to leather. Probably looked a fool.
"Trust me, if I knew what was going on, I would have told you," Garrett said as Pablo slid to the floor. Pablo threw his legs off the edge of the truck. The breeze dusted his face. Cold and soothing.
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"We know, Garrett." Sansi's voice hummed, and she plopped down next to Pablo. Her hand pressed into his shoulder, rubbing his loose muscles. Goddess.
Cass appeared next to Sansi, "Where are we?" she asked. Repeating Pablo's earlier question without the proficiency and grace.
"Satan's left kneecap." Garrett chuckled. For fuck's sake. Butchered it.
He cleared his throat. "See for yourself." Then Garrett left them. He went behind the truck and was gone.
Pablo hopped down to follow him. Boots touched cement. Not gravel. Not dirt. The air was too clean. Not like Zafran. Vocate garbage hadn't contaminated it. Everything was wrong.
"There couldn't be a Supply out here-" Pablo muttered. Sansi slid down between Pablo's arms and tapped the ground.
She fixed her coat, "Well, something out here-"
"Your boyfriend tell you that?"
She tugged his coat hard, trying to pull him toward her. Pablo wouldn't budge. Eyebrows down, a wrinkle in her nose, she was cute but fucking scary. Didn't matter. She had a talent for making you feel like you were wearing everything you hated about yourself as a hat.
"Go catch up to Garrett," she snarled.
Pablo backed up a step. "Sure," He swiped above his head for the hat. Not there, but he sure felt it. Fucked that up.
Sansi turned toward Cass, "C'mon. Hop down."
"Was he talking about Cody?" Cass' voice softened the way it might if you put a pillow over her face.
Pablo circled the truck. Garrett stood by the driver's side window, tapping the frame to get the Vocates' attention. A voice was babbling quietly. Incoherent bullshit. Garrett tapped the frame again, "Hey! Can you turn the headlights on?"
"God damnit! I'm in the middle of something! Fuck! Can't you just wait!"
Little cocksucker thinks he can talk to anyone like that. Pablo approached and touched Garrett's shoulder, gesturing for him to stand aside.
In the cab, a nerdy kid held a phone to his ear like he was cradling a tumor. Blonde hair outgrown. Frames on his face. Coat undone like he didn't give a shit. Pablo glared down at the Vocate like he was the peasant in Pablo's presence. Waiting.
The little shit's face turned white when he saw Pablo. He lowered the phone, "Hey. Sorry, not you." Damn, kid might've pissed himself. Thought he learned his lesson when he disrespected Pablo's friends. Goddamn asshole. Back to his ear, "Don't fuck with anything. I'll be there soon." Probably talking to Emi. Wouldn't talk to Miles like that in front of Pablo.
The truck sputtered, and lights came on, illuminating the darkness.
"Whoa," Sansi said as she came up from behind Pablo.
In front of the truck, the cement road intersected with other roadways. All leading to a building in the distance. Isolated. Like a small island in an ocean of dust.
"What the fuck?" Pablo asked.
Cass stood beside Pablo. Like his fucking equal.
"It looks like an airport."
Garrett pointed at Cass.
"Ding. Ding. We have a winner."
Cass smiled wide. "It was just a lucky guess." Her lip curled in her wasted excitement like a horse with crooked teeth.
Garrett tapped the truck. "Nice guess. Yep. Roads are smooth as shit. Bess loves it here."
Bess is the truck.
"Hey! I'm turning the lights off!" Came the pissing asshole's noise from the cabin.
"Aight," Garrett grumbled. Pablo caught Garrett rolling his eyes as he started walking toward the back of the truck. The feeling was mutual.
Sansi sped up to Garrett, walking like a bird with long legs to match his stride. Ridiculous. "You and Bess consider running away together yet?" Sansi asked.
A fitting result of their relationship. But how would the other inanimate objects feel?
Garrett stopped at the truck doors.
"Nah. Bess doesn't want to be tied down." Garrett chuckled.
"But I could be. If you know what I mean," he winked. At Sansi. That fucking slippery truck wanker.
Sansi's expression hadn't changed, and that made it worse. Heat rose through Pablo. Fingers clenched in a fist. If Garrett was trying to be funny, he deserved to be clubbed in the spleen.
Pablo slipped the boot off his foot. "Fuck off!" he flung it at Garrett. That stupid bondage-fetish clown flinched to the side to dodge. The boot spun in the air before it landed, skidding across the dirt ground.
"Ooh, missed!" Sansi said. Like it was a game of pin the boot on Garrett's fat face. Wasn't a game. If she respected herself more, maybe she'd know that.
Garrett smiled at Pablo. "It was a joke." Then he went to fetch his boot.
"It's okay, Pablo. I never take him seriously." Sansi said. As always, she didn't get it.
She started climbing the truck. Pablo offered a shoulder, and she clutched his coat, tugging hard. Nearly made him topple over. She didn't need him. They both knew it. She had to know using him like that made Pablo crazy in the best of ways.
Once she was up, she crossed her legs on the truck floor, turning around to Pablo, but eyeing Garrett. Awkward. "So, what are we doing with barrels?"
"Pablo and I can carry them, I think," Garrett said, kicking gravel as he approached to hand Pablo his boot.
You've got to be fucking kidding.
"Uh, do you think I'm made out of plyshit? Why didn't you put the wood in sacks instead of bringing the barrels?" Pablo leaned into the truck and pulled his boot over his bare foot.
Garrett rested against the truck while Pablo went up. Sort of kept the damn thing still. Fucking beef cake. "Emi said she wanted all six barrels. So we hauled all six barrels."
Pablo got to his feet and looked down at Garrett. The fuck? That thick skull had to have a brain in it. Yet, he was oblivious to how idiotic that sounded. "She was telling you we needed that many barrels of fuel, idiot. Damnit. Did you at least pack the sacks?"
"No... didn't know we'd need 'em," Garrett's dumb mouth said.
Sansi was standing by the wooden fuel barrels, patting and tapping them. "Why don't you try rolling them?" she said, looking at Pablo. Like he was going to be the one to do it.
Fuck it.
*** Character-specific extras included in post author's note*
Dead Weight continues in the next one.
Thank you for reading!
[Extra] Pablo Polls:
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