All American Rejects (Users #3) (6 page)

It rained. A dense layer of gray cloud cover moved overhead, almost as if it were following them on their way across town.

"Where are we going?" Barber, who was finally talking again, asked.

"The Elk's Club," Carter said without breaking pace, but Barber froze in place.

"Won't they be looking for us there?" Barber asked, and Evan and Ryker stopped as well, as if the possibility hadn't occurred to them until that exact moment.

"Yes, but where else are we going to go to find other Users?" Carter asked. "Where would you go for help if you had escaped the Compound like we had?"

"The Elks Club?" Barber asked with his face contorted in confusion.

"There's nowhere else for them to go," Carter said. "And there is really nowhere else for us to go at the moment either. We're just going to have to risk it."

They walked silently the rest of the way through the city. No one but the occasional vagrant begging for spare change bothered them. It was a surreal feeling for Carter to know that while he walked free, his friends from the Compound were being held captive. He really needed his meds at that moment. He struggled to keep it together, but he couldn't escape the feeling that he was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment.

"Let's hurry inside," Carter said as he rounded a corner and the Elks Club came into view.

It was hard to miss amongst the gleaming glass structures that towered over it on all sides. It was older than the other buildings in the neighborhood by thirty plus years. The paint on its cheap panel siding having faded long ago. It was also the only one story building with a peaked roof for about twenty square blocks. The building was a misfit amongst the buildings of downtown Seattle, which was fitting as it frequently held those unfit for normal society.

It was a place for the downtrodden. Not just Users, but normal humans as well congregated under its roof. Carter eyed the sheet of the day's meetings. There were groups for those suffering from diseases, abuse, and addiction. There were subcategories for abused spouses, or those addicted to sex. The list went on and on, but Carter was looking for one in particular. He found it near the bottom of the list. The narcotics anonymous for Users. As usual they were in room thirteen, and they were only a few minutes late.

With Barber, Ryker, and Evan on his heels, Carter traversed the halls until he reached the correct room and pushed open the door. Once inside, the eyes of the Users went wide at their appearance. There were many open seats in the room, which was an uncommon occurrence at these meetings. Usually the place was packed. It seemed the Compound wasn't the only place missing Users.

Vince, sitting at the head of the table, didn't see them come in and was confused by the room's sudden focus on the door. "What? Why do you guys look like you've seen a ghost?"

A woman sitting at the opposite end of the table merely pointed in their direction. Vince turned, and his eyes similarly went wide.

"Well that's it for today," Vince said. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." The crowded room emptied out like it had caught on fire.

"What are you doing here?" Vince asked once they were alone. "You guys can't be here."

"That's it? No, hey where have you all been? Or how are you doing?" Carter asked. "Just get the fuck outta here?"

"You guys can't be here," the normally warm, inviting Vince said.

The man was acting completely out of sorts and Carter imagined he knew exactly why.

"Alaric's been here, hasn't he?" Carter eyed Vince carefully. The visibly shaken man nodded.

"Two days ago," Vince said. "He came here asking if we'd seen Ryker and Barber."

"Ryker and Barber?" Carter echoed. "Why only Ryker and Barber?"

"I don't know, but I told him I hadn't seen them, and if he comes back," Vince spouted out, fumbling over his words before collecting himself. "Look, I just don't want to get involved in whatever you guys have going on. I registered, we've all registered. We don't want any trouble, or unwarranted attention, from the All Americans...or the government."

"What are you not telling us?" the ever perceptive Ryker asked. "You're scared out of your wits, but it's not because Alaric came around asking about us. There's something more. Something you're hiding."

Vince sighed. "Carol showed up here a few days ago. She was talking all kinds of nonsense, something about how she had been taken prisoner by the All Americans," Vince said. "She said there was a lab downtown, they were holding Users there against their will, that she escaped, and came here looking for help."

"Where is she now?" Carter asked.

"I turned her away," Vince said.

"You turned her away?" Carter's hand balled into a fist and he struggled to keep it from bursting into flames.

"What else was I supposed to do?" Vince said. "This whole thing sounds like bad news to me, and I'm not getting involved with the All Americans and whatever they've got going on."

"Since when are you such a coward?" Barber asked.

"Since Users started disappearing. Our meetings have gotten smaller and smaller each day," Vince said.

"Where did Carol go?" Carter asked in a low growl.

"I think she went down to the shelter in Pioneer Square," Vince said.

Carter grabbed Vince by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in close, so their noses were almost pressed tip to tip.

"You better hope she's still there," Carter said. "Because if she's not, we're coming back here and taking it out on you."

*****

Pioneer Square was always lively, and today was no different. It was a place where the suits of society meshed with the homeless. You might pass a millionaire at one moment and a man without a penny to his name the next. It was the kind of place that just buzzed with energy. The old cobblestones that lined the walkways were over a hundred years old, and below that ran a series of tunnels known as the Seattle Underground. The Underground was little more than a tourist trap nowadays, but in the past it had been like the catacombs of some ancient city. Word was the place was haunted. Carter didn't care to find out. He had enough of his own ghosts.

"So where is this place?" Barber asked as they reached the center of the square.

"You never spent a night at the mission before?" Carter asked. He pointed kiddie corner to the building across the street.

He was thoroughly amused. Carter thought all junkies had spent a night or two at the shelter in the old mission downtown.

"I never spent much time in this part of town. I stayed up on the hill mostly," Barber said. "But I didn't spend as much time on the streets as you did though. I was in and out of foster care most of my life until Walt took me in."

Carter winced. The mention of the Compound's dead leader brought up the painful memories, they were still as fresh as an open wound in his mind and just as agitating. Carter took it especially hard at a time like this. If only Walt were still alive, he'd know what to do. The man was a born leader, not like Carter, Walt would have been sure of what they were doing. He wouldn't have all the doubts that Carter was feeling at that moment, made all the worse by the chemical imbalance in his brain and the lack of medication to counteract that imbalance.

They crossed the street and then lined up at the crosswalk directly across the street from the old mission. Carter tried to imagine what kind of motley crew they must have appeared as, to those that passed by them on the streets. Ryker with his perfectly placed hair, despite the rain and his clothes being in tatters, still appeared the smoldering vision that made the ladies weak at the knees. The lanky Evan lumbering over his companions by a sheer foot. Carter, with his five o'clock shadow, was the old man of the group, only in his mid-thirties, it was a feeling he was not used too. Then there was the kid with the spiky blond hair and worn leather jacket. Barber looked like he came straight off a bad punk rock cover.

A neon electric sign in the shape of a cross glowed in the window above the mission's door. The cross street's light turned red and they got the walk signal that it was time to go. They made their way straight into the mission despite the long line of vagrants that ran out the door and along the sidewalk down the street. They were already lined up for their free breakfast meal.

"Hey guys, no cutting," one of the mission's volunteers said.

"We're not here to eat," Carter said.

"Speak for yourself," Evan said, and Carter's stomach growled.

They were all hungry, but Carter wasn't going to allow them to stop for food at that moment. He was a man on a mission.

"We're here to find a friend," Carter said to the volunteer.

"What's her name?"

"Carol. She's a middle aged lady, short with brown hair." Carter raised a hand about chin height to indicate how tall the woman was.

"Yeah, she's working in the kitchen, but I can't let you guys back there," the volunteer said. "We don't let the patrons back by the food."

"How saintly of you," Carter said as he pushed past the man.

"Hey, pal. I said you can't go back there." The volunteer grabbed Carter by the hood of his sweatshirt.

Carter turned on him dangerously, ignited a fist, and let the flames crackle in front of his face.

"Don't touch me," Carter said and he shoved the man roughly against the door with his other hand; the one without the fire on it. "And we're not homeless," he said as he and his companions walked into the mission like they owned the joint. In truth they were temporarily homeless, but the man at the door didn't need to know that.

Luckily, the tables were all still empty. Captain dickhead at the door must have been keeping everyone outside until breakfast was ready to be served. All the better as far as Carter was concerned. He didn't need an audience for what was about to go down.

"You guys stay here," Carter said.

"But-" Barber started to protest, but Carter cut him off.

"I've got this," he assured them.

A pair of swinging double doors separated the dining hall from the kitchen, and Carter pushed right through them. He cocked his head to the right to a find a pair of surprised looking men peeling potatoes. He looked left and found her. Carol was at a table, chopping carrots on a cutting board.

"Carol," Carter said.

She froze in mid chop, leaving the knife stuck halfway through a carrot, as she looked up.

"Carter?" she asked, surprised to see him.

"Yes, Carol, it's me."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Looking for you," he said.

Carol seemed disoriented, there was a gloss over her eyes, as if she weren't all there. "Barber, Ryker, and Evan are here too. They're just outside in the dining hall. We came to get you."

"No, that's okay. I want to stay here," she said, continuing her chopping.

"Carol, you're not listening too me. The Compound, it has been destroyed. Our friends are still missing. I spoke to Vince, he said you escaped from a lab downtown." There was so much running through Carter's mind that he needed to get her up to speed on, and yet he had so many questions for her.

Their usually clear cut lives had been thrown into a complicated turmoil. Things were suddenly much bigger than who relapsed, or who had how many days sober. This was bigger than all of them.

"Yes, I escaped from the lab," she said.

"How?"

"I pushed one of the guards," Carol said.

She was a very powerful Pusher, and Carter knew that anyone would have trouble resisting her if she desired to control their mind, especially those feeble minded muscle-bound jerks working for the government. Once she got her hooks into the guard, he was sure she had little trouble in convincing him to set her free.

"Carol, listen to me carefully." Carter grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "I need you to show me where this lab is located."

"No." She removed her gaze and stared at the floor, as if it pained her to look him in the face. "I will not go back there."

"You have to. I need to know that our friends are okay. We have to help the others."

"You can't just go bursting into that place," she said, keeping her eyes on the ground she vigorously shook her head from side to side. "Why would you want to go to the one place we're all trying to get away from?"

"What if it were you? What if you were still back there?" he asked her. "Wouldn't you want someone to come for you? To not give up on you? You do know what they are doing to the Users being held there, right?"

Slowly, she raised her head and gave him an empty stare. "I'll show you the way to the building, but from there, you're on your own."

"That's all I'm asking. I wouldn't force you to go back into that place."

"Okay." She finally conceded. "I'll take you there."

"Oh, and one last thing," Carter said. "Can we get some of that food to go?"

Chapter 8

They went up town, past the Pike Place Market, toward the Seattle Center, and they didn't stop until they were beyond the fancy high rises of downtown.

They ate as they walked, scarfing down what Carter and Carol had managed to grab out of the kitchen. With their bellies full for the first time in many days, the group's spirits seemed to be raised considerably. That, and they seemed to be making progress finally toward a goal, instead of lying around in some piss ridden abandoned house.

Carol lead the way, with the others following close behind. Despite traveling on foot, they made good time, but Carol slowed considerably as they rounded a corner past the movie theater. This part of town was old, not as old as the crumbling cobblestone streets in Pioneer Square, but still an unchanged part of early Seattle history. This section between downtown and the Seattle Center, was one of the first additions to the city once Seattle expanded past the original downtown area.

Carol stared at a discrete looking office building made of red brick directly across the street from her.

"That's it," she said. "That's the building."