Page 2 of Vapor
Pulling into what looks like the Hollywood set of an old western town had me wondering what century I’m in. My truck was running a little hot so I stopped before hitting the ranch my old team is gathering at. They got out before me and found themselves some work. Lucky for me, the job isn’t all in the US and they need my training.
A day of recognition and week of home, served to show how long I’ve been away.
The mayor got heckled for honoring a military woman in the middle of his speech. A speech that happened in front of thirty or so people at the town hall. I was stopped by a city council member when I went to check my property records for boundary markers and was told not to expect special treatment and every job here in America will expect me to be qualified. Asif the job I just did for the US and the ass that freely spouted his opinion wasn’t earned, I ignored the jerk.
The best was the small-town big shot that tried to low ball a price for the old house and tract of land mom left me from her parents which was the reason for my checking lot lines. Since he decided to carve a road on said tract, I parked my truck across the entrance of the make shift dirt road so he couldn’t use it as a shortcut to his house from downtown.
His price went up and I’d had enough of the nutty elitists acting like my presence was an inconvenience in their lives.
Even getting coffee at the café got a snotty comment about how they had only regular coffee and no special blend, as if my regular coffee and cinnamon roll order was in a foreign language. The people have changed and I’m not sure what exactly I’ve spent my adult life training and fighting for. I was very young when we lived here before my mom moved us closer to DuPont so it could be me, but the jabs seemed excessive.
Not needing more convincing that it was not and never will be my home, I left with my duffle, a purchase agreement and Vet group storing the contents of the house in a pod for me. I don’t need shit from people who don’t know a thing about me, so I decided on a road trip. I found very few smiles in the places I’ve stopped while crossing the country. It seems everyone is hurt by someone somewhere. I gave up on the road trip to places I’ve never seen as soon as I got the invite and job offering Nebraska.
Which brings me here. Walking the main road had me smiling. People here look like every other place but they’re smiling and don’t look past or away from me. The mechanic talked like he knows me and pointed me to what he called a look-see. It’s been a long ride so I gladly took the walk and like what I see. This is what I trained and fought for.
Two policemen walked in a door under a US Marshal sign. My truck is getting serviced behind the livery. The general store has plexiglass protecting the display of old food brands and home good supplies. I was happy to see the old Levi's look close to the same as they do today, but the E is capital on them. I am glad it had normal and fresh shit behind the displays, I think, walking out.
“Anton, freeze!”
Antifreeze? Whoa…The yell has me turning, then a blur hitting my shoulder has me on my ass. My chips and water fly into the road and another white blur forms into a kid with platinum hair lowering down like he’s landing without a parachute. His knees are bent right, hand is on his sideways zippered lapel like it’s a chute strap and other hand reaches out for me.
“Miss, I help to you. Aaron stop Anton.”
“Are you okay? Anton flew by us but he’s usually careful. That’s who hit you.” A man floats down like whatever hit me opened a door to theMen in Blackmovie set.
I look above the guy’s head but don’t see rope. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and reopen to the guy in the same style navy blue uniform, the platinum blond kid in the same clothes but his little suit really is black and neither has a chute, ropes or platform anywhere around them. “Cool outfits but you can’t all be police. Is this a movie set?”
The kid looks at the guy and shrugs - at the guy.
“We’re Badass and all have similar uniforms that we call gear. A set would explain a lot but no, the town was almost a ghost town until the Veritable Club moved here. Badass is crazy so they rebuilt the town into usable space. The old parts are atourist attraction and new is enjoyable with AC, water, electric and food that’s edible.”
He makes me laugh and I take his outstretched hand. “Thanks. That’s a great way to reuse what’s here and show the history of small-town life.”
The kid gets my chips and water from the road. We all turn as two kids float toward us fast.
“Boss Julius, Miss, Anton fall, we fix pack.” The brown-haired boy says.
I bend to the kids. “You must be Anton.” This kid is like five and looks terrified.
“Sorry. I can help. I hurt you?” They talk in a weird way.
“No, I’m okay.”
The dark-haired boy lifts my arm and pushes my sleeve up high enough to show my tattoo. “Blood. You hurt.”
I twist my arm and see I am bleeding. This place has me off, I felt my elbow connect to the cement but didn’t think much of it. “It’s superficial.”
“You Night Stalker.” The tiny boy cannot be five.
How would he know what the ink represents? Shit. “Is your dad military?”
The guy gets a hurt look to his eyes that wince at me. “They were grown by the CIA. I was a JAG based in DC. Badass is loaded with military from every branch and the Alpha-Bits have a bunch of brothers that were all named Ford and were programmed for IT with medic training like elite military. Here they’re free to work how they want. I’m trained too but they’ll want to help.”
Weird but I nod. I knew about Badass, but I never met club members. “Okay and thanks. I need a bandaid, my truck is behind the livery getting serviced, I have a first aid kit in it.”
“Ice cream shop. Medic box, Boss Julius.” The dark-haired boy runs and the two smaller albinos follow.
I look at the JAG named Julius who isn’t reacting to anything like it’s weird. “Grown by CIA, the island kids?”
