Ogreness, Black Lake-book5

Chapter 48
~

An hour later we reached terrain that could mostly be called rural. We stopped to get gas, but Ponwr’s card wouldn’t work at the pump. Because I like dives that don’t always take plastic, I always carry more cash than I ever use, just in case I find myself with a lot of biker friends and want to treat. So I gave Nuel a wad of twenties and asked her to pay.

“I’m your lackey now?” She was blamin’ me for her world collapsin’, clearly. Well, she’s prolly right.

“His face may be on the news,” Frip answered for me.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Snacks would be good too.”

She held a glare on me as she got out of the truck. The hen is unreasonable. I didn’t make her a persecuted class. I’m stuck workin’ budgets and forecasts, performin’ reviews, and avoidin’ Employee Resources, while my staff gets to design cool databases and plan networks.

Maybe my life isn’t as dandy as I tell Mama it is. I hate budgets. Hate forecasts. Hate project plannin’. I love debuggin’ an unresponsive database, or a network outage.

I missed Sissy something awful. I hope Grand was givin’ her extra snacks. I missed sleepin’ in my own bed. Hate gettin’ shot. That is very annoyin’.

“My phone is out now,” Frip announced.

Ponwr had lost service an hour ago. No more connections to our safety network. Ah. I jerked a look toward the storefront. Norz prepaid phones were advertised in neon. I got out and trotted toward the double doors, but sanity struck, and I glanced up. Cameras, two that I could see. I ducked my head and headed back for the truck.

Ponwr snickered, which sounds like a growl, shook his head, and replaced the gas hose in the pump. “Should get us another four hundred miles.”

His truck must get better gas mileage than the Green Hornet. I slunk back into the truck. Frip said he tried to warn me. Ponwr joined us. The minutes slogged by. What was takin’ Nuel so long?

Finally she appeared, and she wasn’t being escorted by SWAT police. Finally, good news. I rolled down my window and told her we needed a cell phone.

She hefted one of the bags in her hand. “Taken care of.”

I hoped one of the bags had lots of snacks. I slid over to let her in, pawed at the bags in a panic. She already held a half sandwich to her face. Smelled like egg salad, heavy on the pepper. White bread. Plain mayo. Not the good stuff. Maybe she was hungry too. That’s right. At least I got the hospital food.

There were four other half-sandwiches, and what smelled like six rolled up hotdogs. “Bought ’em out. So don’t complain,” she said around egg salad.

“So are we lost?” I asked Ponwr around a mouth of hotdog.

She handed them each a half-sandwich. If they wanted more, they could forget about it. Trolls don’t burn calories like us ogres. Thinkin’ takes a lot of energy.

“No clue,” Ponwr said.

I claimed he used that answer already, needed a new one. He replied, “Dandy.”

What was he sayin’? Do I use that often?

“When were you last at this air field?” Nuel asked around the last bit of sandwich she pressed into her mouth.

“Uh. About ten.”

“Ten months?” Nuel asked.

“No. I was ten years old.”

Three baritone voices hissed, “What?”

“How did you expect to get us there?” Nuel pretty much shouted. She is so emotional.

“I’m not drivin’. I’m not gettin’ us anywhere.”

All three of them growled. Ponwr at least started the truck and pulled back onto the highway as the vibration of giant irritation eased. I pointed at Frip.

“He’s the one who talked to the orc.”

“The orc,” Nuel hissed.

“He’s my bodyguard. I’m expectin’ him to protect me.”

“I’m not an atlas,” Frip grumbled. “Let’s get that other phone powered up. Your orc is gonna have to talk us south.”

For whatever reason, my orc never answered our calls. Ponwr continued to drive, keepin’ us headin’ somewhat southwesterly. Among all the wavin’ fields of wheat on both sides of the highway, there had to be an airfield somewhere. At least the chance of gettin’ pulled over was pretty much resolved.

With that thought, Ponwr mumbled, “Uh oh.”

I didn’t want to look behind us. Nuel twisted around, used an Ogrish word Mama taught me never to have in my hand or my mouth.

“Ya’re killin’ me.” I was talkin’ to Karma. Not sure why Nuel roasted me with a scowl.

“We aren’t out running ’em in this,” Frip said to Ponwr.

Even with the low sun, I made out the red and blue hue flippin’ inside the truck. I allowed that to consume my thoughts for a while, until Nuel slugged me in the arm. Ouch.

“What are you thinking?”

If I told her nothing she’d slug me for lyin’. That’s how hens are. They can’t believe we bulls can just, not think. All I do for a livin’ is make decisions. Two hundred calls a day, someone hisses two or three options, and I wait for pros and cons. Why don’t these people ever call me with a recommendation? I’d love to hear, ‘Because the first option would mean three times the productivity.’

“Boss, whadda you want us to do?”

Weren’t they hired to protect me? I didn’t want to have to think. I’m exhausted. I hurt. I’m in the back seat. Isn’t there a rule, the people in the front seat decide? If that isn’t a rule it oughta be a rule. Should be a rule.

A siren blasted for a couple seconds.

Ponwr kept drivin’.

The siren blasted again.

“Boss?” Ponwr whined.

The next time the siren came on, it stayed on.

“When I can’t make a decision,” I mumbled, “I just keep doing what I’m doing.”

“Seriously,” Nuel hissed. The hen is a real hisser. “That’s your wise counsel?”

“Pull over now,” floated through the frame of the truck. Cops must love an excuse to speak on their public address thingie. I know I would.

“As a cop, what would ya do if ya were behind us?” I didn’t address one of the trolls in particular. Let them work it out.

“Call for backup,” Ponwr said.

“How likely is it,” I asked, “out here in the middle of nowhere, he’ll get backup in the next thirty days?” I may have exaggerated.

“Pick it up,” Frip said.

The pickup’s engine roared-excited for a long bit as the grass and weed stalks to my left began to flip by much faster.

“He’s stayin’ with us,” Frip said unnecessarily, since we could all hear the siren.

We stayed in that status quo for the next twenty minutes. The cop did drive down the middle of the blacktop for a bit, but eventually dropped back behind us.

A broad sign on the right indicated we were welcome to another state. If I’d paid attention in sixth grade geography class, that would probably have given me a hint about where we were. I think I was usually passin’ notes with Ezra. Or my other cousin, Kriz. The siren faded.

“He pulled over,” Ponwr said.

Just like I knew he would. I'm pretty smart.

“Chances are they called ahead.” Stink. Frip is so negative. Can rip an upbeat mood to shreds.

“Then maybe we should get off this road,” I said.

“We’re in the middle of—”

I perked up, curious why he didn’t finish. We were comin’ to a junction.

“I vote south,” Frip said.

All of our heads tilted up to the temp and compass thing on the headliner. South would be left. I looked out my window. Nothing but a sea of rollin’ nothing that disappeared over the horizon. Maybe a few cows. Sure would have been nice to see mountains out there.

~ Nuel ~

If ogres cry, I’d be crying. I was with three complete morons. Why was I here? I should have stayed at the gas station, called for a cab. Waited for a bus.

The situation was so bad, I had the urge to giggle.

~