Page 33 of Atlas

Even though we brought two extra people with us, who rolled in on thunderous bikes and look like they’ve been cast up from the bowels of biker hell, Agatha had tea ready.

I don’t know Odin or Battle Axe very well. They’re both older, burly bikers, probably in their late forties or early fifties. Battle Axe looks like a Viking, with tattoos on his face and visible through his buzzed hair, and a beard that flowed out in both directions like twin streamers while he was riding his bike here. Odin is missing an eye and sports a black patch, a scraggly beard, and a salt and pepper mullet that I believe is an intentional choice of haircut.

I might not know much about either man, but I know they look laughably ridiculous sitting at Agatha’s table with the lace covered top, plates of homemade cookies and biscuits, sipping tea out of dainty cups sprigged with flowers.

Atlas is doing his best to explain the situation, and Agatha has gone from shock, to disbelief, and now she’s digging in. “I’m not going to be chased off my own property,” she vows, getting shakily to her feet. “I’ve always said that the only way I’ll leave this place is in a body bag, and they’re only allowed to take me away to burn me up. My ashes will be spread here, on my own land. Let the wind take me where it will at that point.”

“It’s only for a few days.” I set down the half-eaten jam jam cookie. “Atlas’ parents will be at the clubhouse, and his sistertoo. You could stay with me. I’m going to have my own room there.”

“You hope it’s only for a few days, but even so, that’s a few days too many.” She puts up a gnarled hand in the air, “Hold on. Wait here.”

She totters off down the hall.

Odin sips his tea loudly, then leans over to Battle Axe. “If she doesn’t come willingly, we’re going to have to chloroform her.”

“Oh my god!” I hiss. “We’re not kidnapping her! Just let me talk to her when she comes back. I’ll convince her. Can’t you see she’s just scared?”

Battle Axe’s frightening face splits into a grin that makes him look even more terrifying. “We’re just joking. Why would we need to drug her when we can just pick her up and stuff her in the truck?”

I cross my arms. “If she’s not going to come willingly, she’s not coming at all.”

“We have Tyrant’s orders.”

“Did he order you to give an old lady a heart attack?” I snap back.

“Do you think she’s climbing out a window right now?” Atlas’ eyes flick nervously to the hallway. “She’s been gone a while.”

“I can go check,” Battle Axe volunteers.

“No. Just… wait. She said she’d be right back. I believe her.”

Odin lowers his voice. “Have we considered that the money actually is hers? She could have criminal connections. She could be running the whole show.”

“Did you see her face when we told her about everything?” Atlas asks under his breath. “She wasn’t faking it. She had no idea.”

“She looked right murderous,” Odin says. He taps his good eye, indicating that nothing escapes him. His senses are heightened with just one eye. “I bet she was a spitfire back in the day.”

We all freeze as Agatha’s shuffling steps scrape down the hall. She teeters into view, a tiny little old lady with a sawed off shotgun and a tactical vest with very real looking grenades strapped to the front.

She pumps the shotgun, holding it up towards the ceiling. Her hair has come loose from her bun, the whips framing her face like a mad scientist. Her eyes glow with absolute unhinged glee.

“Let those bastards come! They can have a taste of this!”

Battle Axe and Odin get up so fast that the table shoots into the wall. The teacups turn over, spilling tea all over the bright white lace tablecloth. Cookies go flying onto the floor. Atlas grasps my hand and shoves me behind his back again.

“What the fuck?” Battle Axe wheezes. “Where did you getgrenadesfrom”

“My husband was in ‘Nam. He had a few hookups.”

“Oh my god, they’re old ones too,” Odin sighs. He edges closer, hands out where Agatha can see them. “Let’s get you out of that vest. Those things aren’t safe when they’re that old.”

“You don’t want the house to explode,” Battle Axe coaxes. “Idon’t want the house to explode. Let us help you.”

“Agatha,” I plead with her, stepping out from behind Atlas, though he tries to tuck me back in. “We don’t know how many of them there are. They could come in here and overpower you. Take your gun and your… um… grenades.” And whatever else she has stored in this place.My fucking god. What else does she have stashed away? A rocket launcher? Assault rifles? Landmines? “If they get to you and drag you off, you’re going to be forced out of here against your will. If you come with us, we’ll have eyes on the place. We have cameras that we brought with us to hook up so you can see the feed whenever you like. We really hope this will be over within a few days, but we don’t know and that’s the truth. This could be one person acting alone, or it could be a web of people. Either way, it’s dangerous.”

“You don’t happen to have a spare flamethrower lying around, do you?” Battle Axe asks hopefully. “I’ve always wanted to try one of those.”

“I want to learn how to shoot,” I add, hoping to appeal to Agatha’s need to defend her property. “You could show me while we’re at the clubhouse. Or- or somewhere on the outskirts of the city.”

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