Marisi
Ornstein
Will walks against traffic along henry McCarty’s very first stretch of road through the blizzard, searching for a good spot to build a raging bonfire.
He finds a relatively dry area blocked by boulders and hunts around in the underbrush for anything that will burn.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a bright ball of what looks like flames way up on a hill across the valley where nothing or nobody ought to be, especially in this weather, at this time of night.
He watches the flaming ball as he finishes his fire’s structure, and refreshes his face with snow.
He tops his Zippo off with butane, then squirts the remainder of the can of butane onto the bundled underbrush and ignites it with his Zippo.
The burst from the explosion is so sudden, shocking, and downright spectacular that it kicks Will up into the air backwards, landing in four feet of new snow.
Will lays there a long moment, taking in the sea of stars, before getting himself together and sitting on a large rock near the bonfire, that’s raging now, way out of control.
He gets lost in the flames mingling with the glistening snow and can barely make out what looks like a silhouette sitting on a rock across from him.
As Will’s eyes adjust, he sees a man of twenty-two, wearing a heavy dark green sweater with a yellow stripe, a smashed felt hat, a filthy blue shirt, and royal blue corduroy pants tucked into his boots.
There’s a glow to him, a shimmer.
The flames glitter from Billy’s silver and turquoise squash flower necklace hanging around his neck, and sparkle from his one gold tooth, as he smiles wide.
“Hell of a fucking fire you got there, William.”
“Thanks.”
“Chilly night.”
Will ruffles snow from his hair, “Yeah.”
“Late.”
Will looks over Billy’s shoulder to an outcropping of boulders, and sees the faint shadow of a woman standing on an outcropping, her long black hair flowing with the gusts of icy wind.
Billy turns over his shoulder to see the flaming ball way up on the hill across the valley where nothing or nobody out to be.
“Time’s a deeply complicated concept, ain’t it?”
Will warms his hands on the flames, “Yes.”
Billy winks, “Sure is fun to spin it, though.”
He finds a stick and draws a perfect circle in the snow.
“Got a plan, Will?”
Will looks into Billy’s eyes like he’s looking in a mirror.
“I’m gonna take the wheel on every ghost ship on the road, and what powers them, too.”
Billy scoops snow and rolls a perfect snowball, “How are you gonna do that?”
Will rolls a snowball not nearly as perfect as Billy’s, “Gonna drive the progress.”
Billy produces a short thin cigar from behind his ear and lights it with Will’s fire.
“It ain’t progress unless it brings the people along.”
Will throws his snowball into the fire, “My priority.”
“Are you happy, Will?”
The question surprises him, as his eyes drift up to the silhouette of a woman standing on a boulder.
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes ain’t time enough.”
Billy looks into Will’s eyes through the flames.
“Time passes on the road, sometimes, to where you forget where you been.”
Billy holds his stare, “Never let that happen to you.”
Will looks to the boulder and the woman is gone.
Billy throws his cigar into the fire.
“One thing we can count on is the dawn.”
Billy stands, “Down the Road, William.”
“Down the Road.”
Billy steps into the flames, dissolving into a burst of red, blue, green and yellow phosphorus light crystals floating up into the sky to greet the first shine of dawn.
Will looks up to see the flaming ball way up on the hill across the valley where nothing or nobody out to be, and it isn’t there.
Soon as Will hits the White Thunder’s lot, a vicious streak of razor-sharp sunshine ricochets from the top layer of ice-crusted snow and momentarily blinds him.
He takes up a handful of snow and washes his face, then makes his way to the Dragon, sitting tall, majestic and fresh, like she’s better then all the other trucks.
The driver is fast asleep with his boots up on the dash.
Will knocks on the glass with his ring and Kennol wakes and opens his window, “What the fuck do you want?”
“Get out of the cab.”
“Fuck off.”
Kennol closes his window and Will knocks on the glass again.
“Get out of the truck.”
Kennol opens his window and laughs, “Am I in trouble?”
“Come on, man, don’t make this into a problem.”
Kennol looks to Will like he’s a child he’s got to put up with, “Back off and I’ll get out.”
Will steps back, giving him plenty of room.
Kennol lumbers down the steps.
He is truly gigantic. A giant’s giant, a good deal larger than Carter.
Will takes a few more steps back.
“Okay, I’m out of the truck.”
Kennol digs his heels into the snow, “What do you want?”
“What are you hauling?”
“Nothing. Trailer’s filled with simulated cargo”
“What’s that mean?”
“A bunch of crates that weigh and stack like fucking cargo.”
“What are they filled with? Sand?”
“Who gives a shit. What are you, a cop?”
“No.”
“What are you? Are you insane?”
“At this point, we’re all insane.”
“That’s true.”
Will juts his chin to the Dragon, “Do you know how to drive this rig?”
“Don’t have to, it drives its fucking self.”
“No, I mean, is there a switch to drive manual?”
Kennol shrugs, “Of course.”
“Can you show me where it is?”
“Fuck you. No.” He zips his coveralls, “What do you want?”
“Your truck. I’m taking your truck.”
Kennol laughs, “You can kiss my ass.”
“You’re being hijacked.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even have a gun.”
“That’s a fifty-fifty assumption.”
Kennol realizes he’s gotta make a decisive, proactive move and charges full speed at Will who sends a quick right elbow to Kennel’s nose, unleashing a river of bright red blood.
“Sorry.”
Will winces at the blood, “Grab a rag. I can’t talk to you bleeding like that.”
“It’s not my fault I’m bleeding, you broke my nose.”
“You got a rag?”
He spits some blood into the snow, “There’s a roll of paper towels by the sink inside.”
“You got a sink inside?”
“This thing has everything, it’s fuckin awesome.”
Will climbs into the pristine cab. It’s got the feel of a laboratory.
He grabs a roll of paper towels and brings them to Kennol, “You need to pack snow on that, stop the bleeding.”
Kennol spits some more blood while Will checks out the truck soaking up the morning sun, “Is there a key or a password?”
“Both.”
Will juts his chin to Kennol, “Pack a wad of snow on your nose, man, you don’t need to be bleeding like that. Keep it compressed.”
“Quit telling me what I need to do, motherfucker, I don’t tolerate that.”
Will sticks out his hand, “Give me the key.”
“Make me.”
“What?”
“I said, make me.”
“No.”
“You want me to give you the fuckin key?”
Kennol walks to Will and looms over him, “Make me.”
Will drops Kennol with a swift uppercut to the chin.
“Sorry.”
He extends his hand and helps Kennol up, “Give me the key.”
Kennol digs into his pocket and hands over the key, “Who do you think you are, hijacking a rig in the wide open?”
Will grins, “You drove a truck for thirty-two years, you don’t know who the fuck I am?”
“Bullshit.” Kennol looks him over, “No you ain’t.”
“Yeah. I am”
“You’re full of crap. You don’t exist.”
“I’m standing right here, I just broke your nose.”
Kennol studies him a long moment, “Okay.”
Will looks around the lot to make sure they’re alone, “You know anything about this tech?”
“I’m obsessed with this tech. I’ve got full access.”
“How’d you get full access? Aren’t you a diesel driver.”
“Yes.”
“I figured access was just for the monitors.”
“I’m the smartest one in the cab, man.”
Will sizes Kennol up, “You want a job?”
“A what?”
“A job.”
“Working for you?”
“Yeah.”
“Doing what?”
“I’m interested in the tech, not the truck.”
Kennol looks around and snaps his nose back in place, “These dipshits sleep till noon. I got time to talk, if you do.”
Will smiles, “I got time.”
Kennol reaches down and washes the blood off his face with fresh snow.
“I’m retired military. Intelligence, mainly. Last six years, I’ve been working privately on developmental work. First round far out shit nowhere near release. When I feel like coming up for air, I call workshops in Cambridge, blow some minds. This position came up, it caught my eye. I hadn’t driven in years and missed the road, so, I took the gig.”
Will looks inside the cab, “Is this tech up to speed?”
“Way ahead of speed. You have no idea.”
Will shields his eyes from the morning sunshine screaming into his face from the Dragon’s sheen.
“Still, though. It needs improvement.”
Kennol dries his face on his sleeve, “I’m filling up notebooks with ideas, I have a lot of questions I’d like to answer and problems I’d love to solve.”
He adjusts his woolen hat, “How can I be of use to you?”
“In the immediate, you can switch off the ghost mode so I can take the wheel. And, turn off the GPS. Make her invisible.”
Kennol nods, “Anyone asks, I’m the victim of a hijacking.”
“Deal”
Kennol cleans his hands with sanitizer, “You said I drove for thirty-two years.”
Will sticks his hand out, “Can I have some of that?”
Kennol shares his sanitizer, “How’d you know that?”
Will ignores that, “Who owns this rig?”
“Nobody.”
Kennol laughs, “She’s under the under.”
Will looks to Kennol, “Military?”
“Not even close.”
Kennol kicks snow from his boots, “This rig is beyond.”
As Kennol boards the cab on the passenger side, a feral winter bird with fearsome red, orange and yellow feathers lights on the beak of the Dragon and turns to Will, glaring at him with her wild marble eyeballs.
Kennol catches Will’s eye, “You didn’t know that?”
As Will steps into the Dragon’s driver seat, the bird launches into a siren shrill and flies away, fast and frantic as hell.
“Strap in, McCarty.” Kennol laughs, “You’re about to swim deep.”
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