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My Name's Christine
My Name's Christine
My Name's Christine
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My Name's Christine

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It was unlikely that the automaton could handle a bullet wound. The coin operated machine was more of a boardwalk distraction than a medical device. But since the town didn’t have a hospital or a doctor of any kind, Kyle didn’t really have much of a choice. This 100 year old machine was consistent with the difficult experiences that had plagued him throughout the getaway. The bullet wound wasn’t going to stop him from finding the enigmatic woman who had once saved his life. Nothing would keep him from the alluring Messiah that he called Suzanne.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 28, 2013
ISBN9781301501540
My Name's Christine

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    My Name's Christine - Christopher Garcia

    My Name’s Christine

    Christopher Garcia

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2013 Christopher Garcia

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Part One: Origin @ Argos:

    It was unlikely that the automaton could handle a bullet wound. The coin operated machine was more of a boardwalk distraction than a medical device. But since the town didn’t have a hospital or a doctor of any kind, Kyle didn’t really have much of a choice. The bullet had been in there for three days, it was about time to get it out.

    Larry fished out a quarter from his pocket and dropped it into the slot. Mechanisms whirred as it came to life. A sour, burnt wire smell slowly exuded into the air. There was a series of loud clicks as images on cards flipped behind glass.

    Christ, look at this: Psoriasis, Ingrown Toenail, Pink Eye. This isn’t going to work.

    Just keep going down the list, maybe we can get something that’ll help.

    Larry pushed the Next button and watched as the next set of ailments came into place.

    Toothache, Skin Rash, Swollen Tongue. Swollen tongue? Is that really something?

    No idea. Just keep checking.

    The next three series of conditions remained in the same minor vein of urgency. Larry pushed the button quicker, skimming over the words as they popped up.

    Whoa! What did that last one say?

    Larry pushed the Back button and read the curved script.

    Slug Removal. That’s disgusting.

    No, not those slugs. Gun slugs. This might work.

    Kyle bent over the machine, scrutinizing the small brass information plaque secured to the case.

    God, look at this, the machine was built in 1903.

    Larry glanced over to the plaque, squinting his eyes as he read.

    Green Bay Wisconsin.

    What?

    The automaton was built in Green Bay Wisconsin.

    Kyle furrowed his brow and stared at the boy. The kid was anything but a trusted companion on a dangerous road trip. He let out a deep, quiet sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl.

    Just push that button and let me get into that seat.

    Larry quickly stood up and allowed Kyle to maneuver his bulk into the ornately carved wooden chair.

    For the next half hour, dials turned, lights blinked, and small mechanical arms jerked about as the surgery was performed. Kyle grimaced a few times as 100 year old scalpels dug into his shoulder and antique glass hypodermic needles pricked his flesh and tissue. The end result was adequate. Kyle felt the rough pattern of stitches with his fingers, hoping the seal would hold as he moved about. He pulled on his blood-stained shirt and worked on the buttons.

    Larry watched as the huge sixty year old man dressed. Kyle was four times older than he was, but could easily tie Larry’s slender frame into a knot. When they had first met, he had secretly referred to Kyle as The Old Man. That was before the incident with the hitch hikers on the elevator. He’d never make that assumption again.

    Kyle finished buttoning his shirt and lifted a backpack he had dropped next to the automaton. Larry reached out and took hold of the bag as Kyle tried to swing it onto his back.

    Let me carry that.

    Kyle nodded and let the boy take the bag.

    Chicken Fried Steak

    Lisa pushed her chicken fried steak around the plate with her fork. The shallow impression on the breaded surface was definitely a thumb print. She took her knife and slipped it under the cutlet as she maneuvered her fork over the top. She flipped the steak over, rattling the plate and clinking her water glass in the process. The smattering of patrons raised their heads at the sound. They held their attention on Lisa for a breath, then focused back on their own plates and coffee. Lisa studied the underside of her chicken fried steak and made out two narrow grooves. She leaned over the table and fixed a keen gaze on her companion. Sarah looked up from her pancakes and met Lisa’s eyes.

    What?

    I knew it. She touched my food

    Sarah put down her fork and leaned in towards Lisa.

    What the hell are you talking about?

    Lisa made a slight motion with her head towards the only waitress in the diner.

    The waitress, she touched my food.

    Lisa placed her fingers into the two impressions.

    You see? She picked it up like this

    Lisa raised her hand and made a grasping motion in the air with her thumb and first two fingers.

    Probably after dropping it on the floor.

    Lisa wiped the grease from her fingers on a paper napkin and slunk back into the red vinyl seat of the booth.

    Sarah picked up her fork and went back to eating her pancakes. Talking to Lisa right now would be an unfortunate start to a circular argument about nothing. After sharing the confines of a sedan for the past two weeks, she had a clear concept of her mood patterns and triggers.

    Lisa would not have been her first choice for a travelling companion. The woman was paranoid, delusional, and in great need of some advanced series of medications. The fact that most of what they had encountered in the past weeks seemed to be products from a disturbed imagination didn’t help the situation at all.

    Sarah ate the last bite of her pancakes and wished there had been just a bit more. She drank some water and looked over at Lisa. She was still in her small dark place. Good. Keep her there.

    Sarah glanced out the window of the diner at the quiet dusty street outside. It was washed out by the relentless Kansas sun. The brightness was coupled with a dry, demoralizing heat that burned into your flesh.

    I wonder if Kyle found a doctor.

    Sarah looked at Lisa. The woman’s long, wan face looked sad. This wasn’t anything new, she always looked depressed, but there was something else there. It could have been concern. Was it possible she was developing an attachment to her fellow travelers?

    Lisa’s hand was lying limp on the Formica table top. Sarah reached out her hand and gently placed it over Lisa’s.

    I’m sure they found somebody.

    Lisa nodded, looking out into the street. She blinked her eyes as they faced the sun.

    Wal-Mart

    Kyle fingered the road map, trying to find their location. He sat on the hood of the Mercury Tracer, feeling the heat of the sun drenched metal through his jeans. He realized that he made a better driver than navigator, but some general idea of their route made him feel a little more secure. Standing up, he folded the map badly and tossed it onto the passenger’s seat through the open window.

    Should we get going? He asked as he looked from one person to the next, trying to catch their eye.

    Larry nodded, Sarah gave a thumbs up as she went to open the back door of the car. Kyle didn’t wait for a response from Lisa. She’d either get in or not.

    How many miles did that woman say to get there? Larry asked, unfolding the map and creasing the bent edges flat.

    About fifty miles, I think. Kyle said, turning the key in the ignition. He revved the car a bit, checked the gauges to make sure there was gas and the engine light was off. He reached up to adjust the rear view mirror. It was exactly where he wanted it, but he didn’t want to let on that he was checking to see if Lisa was in her usual spot, slumped into the back seat, staring outside the window at nothing.

    Kyle took a deep breath and pulled the gun out of the waistband of his jeans. He handed it over to Larry to put into the glove compartment. He watched the boy with a little apprehension. The kid was liable to accidentally shoot himself during this brief transfer, but he had to put some trust in him. They had to count on one another somehow.

    Larry closed the glove box with a firm shove and readied the map in his hands.

    OK, everyone, we should get there just before dark. We’ll have to spend the night in the car, and then see how things pan out in the morning.

    I’ve never been to one Lisa said softly, her eyes unfocused on the distance.

    To a what? Larry asked, turning his head to see her.

    To a Wal-Mart. I’ve seen them everywhere, but I never went inside.

    Kyle put the car into drive and slowly made his way down and out of the main street of the town.

    Sunnydale

    The highway was deserted. Kyle made sure to stay in his lane, but he was tempted to just cruise straight down the dividing line. Just because there were no cars as far as he could make out, laws needed to be preserved. Kyle made out a steady column of white smoke in the distance. Probably burning a field somewhere. He lowered his window slightly and sniffed the air. There it was, that primeval scent of smoke. He wondered if the smell affected everyone equally. Kyle always felt the awakening of a primitive memory. It was like he had the collective experiences of the first men who had harnessed the power of fire.

    Kyle, please shut the window, you’re letting the AC out.

    Kyle complied without a comment. Sarah was right, no reason to undermine the comfortable temperature of the car.

    They drove on through the slowly vanishing day. The wide expanses of fields were stained with the dark shadows of floating clouds. They passed through one of the many small towns that dotted western Kansas. The event required that they slow down to 25 MPH and study the small houses, local school and church that disrupted the otherwise fluid expanse of beige, pale blue, and the occasional green. After less than two minutes they were leaving town limits. A wind and sun faded sign raced past their window as Kyle started to speed up.

    Now Leaving Sunnydale, Come Back Soon!

    Besides the gun, she gave us two antique crank-up Tasers

    The landscape rolled on much the same until the sun set. Larry had gotten tired of watching one tree in the horizon for the past twenty minutes. It didn’t seem to get closer as the time passed. The sun’s setting obliterated the tree and created an unfathomable blackness.

    Larry continued to stare out the window, but now he saw his own reflection in the glass. He rarely ever looked at himself. Maybe once or twice a day in the bathroom mirror when he brushed his teeth or a quick glance while he washed his hands. Larry followed the line of one of his tangled curls of hair. He didn’t use a mirror to comb his hair because there was no comb or brush designed by man that could ever penetrate the jungle he carried around on his head. He usually just used his fingers to toss his hair like a salad made of rouge snakes.

    He continued to stare at his reflection, but his thoughts drifted to their encounter with Leila.

    She did not live in a trailer home, but she had somehow managed to buy a sturdy home of brick and wood that looked exactly like one. The inside of her home followed the same motif. Beige shag carpeting that was now closer to brown. Three dogs, one more decrepit than the next, sleeping under chairs or on couch cushions. The small structure was deeply permeated with the smell of cigarette smoke and fast food, though strangely enough, she did not eat or smoke during their visit.

    She held court from an easy chair that creaked under her weight. Both her knees were shot, so she had developed a sharp and loud series of commands that both the children and dogs ignored.

    They had gotten the gun from Leila.

    In that drawer next to the lamp. No, the other lamp. Yeah, that’s the one, go on ahead and open it, should be towards the back. There you go, bring it here.

    Kyle handed the gun to her, handle first. She looked it over, turning it around in her hands, and checking to see if it was loaded.

    Damn it, the damn thing’s empty. I swear I put it away loaded. Leila put the gun down on a folding T.V tray and positioned her hands on the arm rests of her chair, she bent her body forward, readying for one of her vocal deliveries.

    Mathew, Stuart, did you boys steal Grandma’s gun?! You better not have stolen Grandma’s gun! She waited a moment for a reply. None came.

    If I catch you stealing Grandma’s gun again there will be hell to pay, you hear me? Still no response.

    Leila muttered something about Those damn kids and picked the gun up again. Here, big fella, there’s a box of shells somewhere in that drawer. Do you know how to load a revolver?

    Yes, Ma’am.

    Thought so, by the looks of you.

    Leila turned to Larry.

    Hey there, young man, I want you to go into the garage and fetch me the antique Tasers. They should be in the old steam trunk towards the back.

    Larry had no idea what a steam trunk or an antique Taser was. He opened his mouth to ask, but he didn’t like the look behind her reading glasses. He got up and headed outside in search of the garage.

    The air outside was hot and dry. He looked up and down the suburban block, there was nobody in sight. He expected to at least see the two grandchildren running about, but he never saw or heard them.

    He spotted a smaller rectangular twin of Leila’s house and headed for it. The rolling door was unlocked, so he hefted it up. The metal door went up easily and clanked when it reached the top. Inside the garage was the expected assortment of boxes and loose objects strewn about the tight little structure. There was no car, unless it was buried under the motley assortment of junk. Larry waded towards the back of the garage and glanced around for some sort of trunk-like box. The light from the street barely illuminated the space. He tried to spot a switch or a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, but there was nothing in plain sight. In a corner he made out something that looked a lot like a pirate’s treasure chest. The case was made of wood that was riddled with little holes and cracks. The metal clasps were rusty and looked like they would turn into a gritty red powder if they were flipped open. Larry pushed aside some boxes and bent down to lift the lid, some of the rust came off on his hands, but the trunk opened with little effort. Inside the trunk were two tin devices of some unknown function. They looked a little like the ray guns you would see in an old science fiction movies. They had a gun-like handle made of cracked rubber that terminated in a funnel shape with three foot long wires sticking out straight. On the back of the thing was a small hand crank that had a matching rubber handle. Larry shrugged his shoulders and brought the two weird objects back inside the house.

    Leila turned her face towards the screen door as in clapped shut behind him.

    Good, you found them. Take those as well, I don’t need them. They’re a bit beat up and old, but they’re built right, not like the crap they make in China these days.

    Wal-Mart Revisited

    Kyle turned off the headlights as they neared the Wal-Mart. The parking lot was packed with cars and light was streaming from the immense building.

    There she is. Kyle said as he surveyed the scene.

    He turned halfway in his seat so he could see the three other passengers at the same time.

    Ok, so we stay up here on the hill tonight and then go in early tomorrow morning. Get in, get what we need really quick, and get out. We’ll watch each other’s backs, and if anything bad goes down, we drop everything and get the hell out of there. Everyone got it?

    Sarah and Larry nodded. Lisa remained still and silent in her seat.

    The next morning, sun-light streamed through the windows, waking everyone in the car at roughly the same time. Kyle yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes.

    Rise and shine boys and girls. He tried to sound light hearted, but he didn’t have the voice for it.

    Larry stretched his arms forward, nearly touching the inside of the windshield.

    Can we hit the bathrooms first? He asked as he cracked his stiff neck.

    Sure, but let’s make it a quick pit stop, we can’t waste time.

    Sarah smacked her hand on the passenger seat’s headrest.

    Ok, let’s move it. I gotta go!

    Kyle drove slowly through the parking lot. The Wal-Mart had just opened and there were already dozens of cars.

    So much for beating the crowds. Sarah said, looking out for an open space.

    Well, we’ll just have to risk it.

    Kyle pulled into an open parking space and they all got out of the car. The Kansas sun was not quite as oppressive this early in the morning, but there was a hint in the air of a steadily escalating inferno.

    Kyle handed ripped sheets of paper to Larry and Sarah.

    Here’s your lists. Can you guys read them Ok?

    Sarah and Larry quickly read over the lists and said yes.

    Kyle read over his own list, then tucked it into his back pocket.

    OK, bathroom, then get me a shirt and we’ll meet back here.

    What color do you want? Lisa asked. He hadn’t noticed that she was standing right behind him.

    Kyle whirled around to see the pale young woman.

    What?

    What color shirt do you want?

    Kyle frowned and shook his head slowly.

    I don’t care, anything.

    Without saying anything else, she began walking towards the entrance. Sarah and Larry quickly followed behind her.

    Kyle watched them walk away. He cupped his hands around his mouth.

    Anything but plaid!

    Don’t touch the Crocs Part One

    Larry looked over his list and headed down a random aisle. To his left there were large plastic bins full of the ribcages of some animal. People were picking through them, god only knows what criteria they were checking for. To his right there were dried pig faces hanging from hooks. The faces were a strange combination of reds, yellows and oranges. The surfaces were glossy and looked slick with fat. The eyes, mouths and nostrils were empty, giving them the appearance of grotesque masks.

    Larry's Shopping List

    Paper clips

    String

    Birthday candles

    Look at This

    Look at this.

    Lisa glanced over. You would have expected some surprise in her eyes, or at least a little sparkle of amusement or disgust, but there was only a dull glaze.

    What are they? She asked in a flat tone.

    Sarah chuckled, leaning over the Plexiglas tank.

    Frogs and turtles, living together!

    Sarah reached into the open top of the tank and touched the shiny skin of a bright green frog. The animal crawled away from the touch, climbing over another frog and two soft shelled turtles.

    Lisa bent over the tank, holding back her long dark hair. She stared at the creatures for a moment, watching them move about in their crowded prison.

    Are they pets?

    No, food.

    Really?

    Uh, huh.

    Sarah touched another frog, she wasn’t sure if the turtles bit.

    Lisa looked at the animals squirming about. Suddenly, she pointed directly at one turtle that was off in a corner of the tank. Surprisingly, it was all by itself.

    That one’s an asshole.

    Sarah's Shopping List

    Button down short sleeve shirt XL

    Strike anywhere wooden matches (big)

    Sudafed

    Light bulbs, 40 watt

    Compact mirror (any small mirror)

    Duct tape (silver)

    Don’t touch the Crocs Part Two

    There they were, packed in ice, ruby red grapefruits between their toothy jaws: Crocodiles. Larry couldn’t believe it. Was this for real? Crocodiles,really? Who in the hell sold dead gators, and for that matter, who bought them? What in the hell did someone do with the entire carcass of a croc? Do you roast them over a spit whole, or chop them up for various eccentric meals? What happens when someone actually buys one, do they bag it, put it in a box? How does the croc eventually make it out of the store? Larry’s mind raced with dozens of questions. He had never seen anything quite like this before. Maybe it was a Kansas thing, or specifically a Wal-Mart in Kansas thing.

    Kyle's Shopping List

    Digital alarm clock

    20 Lb. Propane tank

    Miracle Grow fertilizer

    BBQ starter fluid

    Moth balls

    Don’t touch the Crocs Part Three

    Where the hell is Larry?

    We met up in the bulk meat aisle and I took his stuff in my cart. He wanted to see something.

    Kyle cursed under his breath and looked back at the crowded store.

    Ok, I’ll go find him. You two pay for this and we’ll meet you at the car.

    Kyle pulled out his wallet and handed Sarah some cash.

    Here, take the keys, pull the car up front and keep the engine running.

    Kyle headed back into the store, walking swiftly, but trying not to run. He felt a twinge of pain in his wounded shoulder as he brushed past a small man standing in the aisle. The man cursed at him in some foreign language. Damn, Kyle thought, he may remember me.

    Kyle made his way over to the bulk meat aisle and spotted Larry with his arm around a crocodile’s neck. He was taking a picture of himself and the croc with a cell phone. As Kyle quickly made his way through the shoppers, trying hard not to bump anyone else, he saw an old Asian woman staring at Larry. She had been busily sweeping the aisle when Larry’s antics drew her attention. She stormed over to the boy and started yelling at him in another language. Larry backed away from the crocodile, holding his hands palm side out towards the advancing woman. She continued to yell at him, and then started sweeping at his feet as if she were trying to wisk him away.

    Kyle reached them and placed his solid frame between the pair.

    Go outside, the car’s out front.

    Larry was trying to apologize to the woman, but she either did not understand him or she didn’t care.

    Go! Kyle ordered.

    The woman continued her angry rant without a pause. She turned her verbal assault over to Kyle as if any subject would serve her purpose. Kyle leaned over, meeting her eyes. She was half his height and frail, but she continued with fierce determination.

    Kyle lifted the bottom corner of his new shirt revealing the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. The smooth handle and polished steel looked impressive against pale skin and denim.

    The woman instantly shut up. Her eyes went from the gun and back up to Kyle’s intense glare. They remained in silence for a brief moment. Kyle lowered his shirt and leaned in even more.

    We're going to Medicine Lodge and there isn't a damn thing you or the others can do to stop us.

    The woman remained frozen as Kyle slowly walked away.

    Kyle calmly made his way out of the store and got into the car. He looked over his shoulder at Larry in the back seat.

    Get out your map and figure out a new route. We’re not going to Medicine Lodge.

    Silent Car Trip

    The car rolled on in silence. Kyle sat very still in the passenger’s seat. There was no conversation. Everyone seemed to have come to an accord and no words filled the air. Larry fidgeted nervously in the back seat. He was starkly animate next to the slumped figure of Lisa. He considered breaking the silence, or suggesting that Sarah turn on the radio, but it was too thick, too pure to interrupt. It was also way too pregnant.

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