Yes, its another short story. Hope you like it. C&C please. And
before I begin, a special thanks to my adoring public, Mike Loader.
Matthew Trotter, I think I'll post my next story as Test, everybody reads
posts called Test.
The Special
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
City living heavy trouble.
City living rough.
-Duran Duran
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Code 621534 "a special"
Any pick up that contains biologically harmful, and possibly hazardous
elements. These pick up sites are typified by:
Hospitals, slaughter houses, heavy industrial zones, chemical research
centers, biological weapons sites, nuclear power plants, boomer research
centers, private "street" doctors, fast food restaurants, ARA, and college
dormitories.
-Excerpt from The Sanitation Engineers Handbook 3rd. Ed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The truck crawled up the hill, its engine growling its protest. The
truck was battered and stained with age, and numerous other things most
people probably wouldn't want to think about. It, like its driver, was
an old hand. It had been all over the city. It knew every alley, every
street, every intersection. It knew these things the way only an
inanimate object can know something. Today the truck was empty. It was
halfway across the city, which meant one thing . . . it was on a
"special".
"Hey, old man. Why are boomer research centers on the special list?"
"'Cause they go active sometime."
"What?"
"Go active. Make big fuckin' mess."
"And then we have to clean it up?"
"No. Then you th' mess."
"Uh. . . where are we going?"
"232 overpass."
"Why?"
"Meat truck wreck."
"What's so special about that?"
"Live meat."
"Oh god, I'm going to be sick."
"Open th' window. Don' need puke in th' truck. Damn rubber neck
mother fuckers! Gotta job to do. Damn everybody on th' damn bridge today!"
"Thank god. I'm in no hurry to see this."
"Only get worse longer you leave it. Truck been down hour now. Be
real bad we get there."
"How come I'm with you old man? Why not someone else?"
"Gotta have partner fora month. Gotta have witness if there trouble."
"What?"
"Can't go on route with out partner. Not fora month."
"Yeah, whatever."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What's the hold up Dalley?"
"There's a truck wrecked on the bridge."
"Can't the Tokyo PD do anything right?"
"They have traffic down to one lane."
"shit"
"I think I see the clean up crew."
"Finally."
"Their three cars behind us."
"shit"
"You know, that guy diving the truck looks familiar."
Leon ignored the challenge. Dalley was trying to get him to abandon
his nap . . . Still who was in the truck? damn. There went the nap.
Leon sat up. Looking out the back window he spotted the truck, the
driver was . . . the old vet. Great. He'd been hopping not to see him
till the review meeting at three. The old man noticed him and flipped
him the bird.
"Damn. I hate that old man."
"I knew you'd be glad to see him back on the streets."
"I wonder who they suckered into working with him?"
"Looks like some kid."
Leon risked the bird again to look and see. Looked like some pretty
boy, just Dalley's type. What was a kid like that doing in a garbage
truck? Probably trying to be "hard". Kids these days thought it was all
the rage to be gangsters. There were probably twenty or thirty kids just
like him on tap at the morgue. All of them trying to be hard. All they
were now was stiff. Maybe they ought to tell people life in the ADP made
you hard. That could be the new recruiting motto. The old man pointed at
him and said something . . . Leon turned back around. It was going to be
a long day. Traffic wrecks, shuttle wrecks, there was sure to be a
horrible boomer incident. That was always the way days like this ended...
in a nice death toll. Well, at least he'd get to finish his nap.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The stench was bad enough. It didn't help that some of the cattle
were still alive. There's nothing to roll your stomach like the sight of
a cow with shattered legs feebly trying to get up. The old man shook his
head and went back to the truck. The kid took one look and went to the
side of the overpass to throw up.
At the sound of the first shot the kid almost pissed on himself. The
second shot got him on the ground. After the third one he noticed the
cops pointing and laughing at him. When he came back around the side of
the truck he say the old man there in the middle of the carnage kicking
bodies, a gun still in his hand.
"What are you doing?!"
"Got git dead if you gonna move."
"jesus"
"Git over and git movin''"
"The hell you say! I'm not touching that shit!"
"You on th' truck you do th' work."
"Hey kid! What's wrong? You leave your balls at home?"
The old man looked up, the officer in question looked like one of
those good old boy types. The guy who goes out of his way to harass
people. He hated cops. The killed about half his friends from the war.
It wasn't their fault, but he still hated them for it. The kid was with
him. If they wanted to fuck with the kid the would have to fuck with him
too.
"Give'm a hand, boy."
"What?"
"Give'm a hand, Officer Balls."
"You want me to help the kid."
"You chicken?"
"Go on Harry, show the kid how real men do it."
"Ok, kid. If I'm doing this, your helping."
The kid looked at Officer Balls. It looked like he was going to go
for it. The old man smiled and headed to the truck to put up the gun.
He watched Officer Balls pick one of the older dead corpses, good,
apparently Officer Balls didn't know a shovel job when he saw it. He
opened the door and tossed the gun back into the glove compartment. He
wondered if the kid was going to be back after this. Probably not. Not
unless the employment agency stuck him with it. The old man went around
to the side of the truck to get the shovels, it was going to be a real
long day.
He couldn't believe he was doing this. Two hours ago he was worried
about sorting mail...now he was worried about how to pick up a dead cow.
The officer pointed to one of the bodies that hadn't been moving when
they got there, thank god.
"Hey, kid, what are you doing with the old man?"
"The employment agency stuck me with this shitty job."
"Do you know about the old man?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know why your stuck with him?"
"He said something about needing a partner for his route."
"You get the head, I'll get the tail. He wasted a kid about your age
a couple of days ago. The case was ruled in his favor, so he got out on
the provision that he has to have a partner for a month. Lift. He . . ."
That was when it happened. They lifted the cow, which was REAL heavy,
and then there was a ripping sound. The next thing he knew the whole
body was ripping open. The head and legs came off in his hands. It was
the second most horrible thing he'd ever seen. The most horrible was
what happened to the officer who was trying to help him.
The officer had lifted the cow by the legs, and just as he was
adjusting his grip the back split open. The leg that he had a solid grip
on came off in his hand. He lost his grip and fell over backwards. The
leg hit him right in the face. He screamed and shoved the leg off. It
took three seconds for the sight of the cows guts all over the road to
make him blow his lunch all over the corpse and himself.
The kid let go of the head. Nothing could compare to that. He
noticed the old man shaking his head and leaning a pair of what looked
like snow shovels against the side of the truck. He could hear the other
cops talking real quietly. He couldn't make out what they were saying.
"jesus. Hey old man! Why didn't you warn us?"
"You got Balls wit you. What you need me?"
"Shit! You. . ."
"We git th' fresh first."
"Fuck you! You get the shit! I . . ."
"Shut up. You pick up worse thing out. Ain't gonna hurt do some work
now. Ain't git back in truck wit out work."
"fuck"
"You old son of A BITCH!"
The kid watched the cop swing on the old man. It was just like they
showed it in the movies. One second the cops fist was going strait into
the old man's face, the next the old man was holding his wrist. He never
even saw the old man move.
"You fuckin' wit th' wrong person."
"Fuck you! I'll kick your fuckin' ass you son of a bitch!"
"No. You ain't. You git off. I don't wan' trouble."
"Then you shouldn't have messed with me old man!!! Your going to jail
mother fucker! Assaulting an officer is a crime!"
"I ain't assaulted shit."
The cop turned back to his buddies. They looked real nervous. This
was one of those duty vs. camaraderie things that made being a cop a real
bitch.
"You saw it! He grabbed me! You saw it."
"Come on Harry. Let it go...."
"Fuck that! He attacked me!"
"You wanna git attack? I show you attack if that what you wan'."
"Did . ."
"Harry! Quit fucking with him! If you start shit, its on you. This
is your bullshit, you deal with it. I'm not loosing my job over you
being fucking stupid."
The cops got "Harry" to go back to the station, and then went and
stood on the other side of their cars. The old man picked up one of the
"fresh" cows and threw it into the truck. The kid watched him in
amazement. There was no way the old man could do that. It was inhuman.
"Jesus old man. How the fuck did you do that?"
"Jacked up for ass kickin'. Good for work too."
"There's nobody that jacked, man. Nobody."
"Work tomorrow I tell you."
"No damn way. I am out of this shit after today."
"Gita shovel on th' body."
"Shit. Tell me how you got jacked."
"Tomorrow."
"I'm not coming in tomorrow."
"Then you not know."
"Ass hole.