Page 41 of All Your Days
“Right, that’s enough.” Over my panting breaths I hear a new voice. Cracking one eye I see the armymen have come to intervene. I’m not the only one panicking. The man and woman behind the bar are quickly bundling up what looks like packages of food.
“They insulted our Coby, here. I was just askin’ for an apology.” Buckles seethes at the armymen.
“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it, Kane. Now get out his face.” The armyman doesn’t seem at all scared of Buckles, well, Kane. Good for him. This is why I could never be an armyman.
“Why should I?”
Jacob backs me up as Kane decides his fight is now with the Union.
“Because otherwise, I’ll lock you shits up in the tanks and Mister Lewis will use your hides for a new sofa for missin’ your next shifts.”
“What the fuck do you care?” Buckles is trying to act tough still, but it seems like Mister Lewis is a big threat against Blue Creek. The man must be the devil’s brother.
“Because The Facility is Union business. Union doesn’t fuck with Blue Creek business, so long as Blue Creek doesn’t fuck with Union business. So you lot are going to sit down and shut the fuck up. They are going to leave and eat their food on the road.” There is a pause from the armyman that holds until oneof us, I think it’s Ryan, makes an agreeable sound. “And you fuckers areallgoing to hang around until tomorrow. And I swear to the Union and God, if you fuckers interrupt my peace one more time this break, I will gut you myself and make my own damn couch. You understand?”
We don’t get to hear whether or not the Blue Creek crew agree to the armyman’s conditions; we’re hustled out of there quick-smart by the man and woman from the bar.
They press our bags of food into our hands and almost shove us from the door.
Jacob nearly drags me back to the hotel, and we’re out of the outpost so fast I can barely keep up, my head too rattled from our run in with Blue Creek.
I don’t think I take my first full breath until we reach the first bore, and the fork in the road.
Chapter eleven
Jacob
We move fast andwe move hard, pushing ourselves and our camels harder than we should with the heat bearing down on us, but I’m determined to put as much distance between us and the outpost as possible before the day's end.
Thankfully, the team agrees. They hauled outta there like they were merchies on the move their whole life. Just as thankfully, they are silent. No one wants to waste any energy talking, just one foot in front of the other, as fast as we can go.
Not that it matters for me. All my reserves are being wasted on the stress gnawing away at my guts. I’m so distracted I almost step on a fucking snake slithering across the track.
Only Eli’s hand on my arm stops me from making a deadly mistake. Rather than thank him, though, I yank my arm out of his grip with a grunt and keep going, giving Zeppy an unnecessarily hard pull. She grunts back at me, knocking my hat with her big nose. I can’t be mad. I deserve it. So I give her an extra scratch in apology.
I don’t apologise to Eli, even though I know I should. For a lot of things.
I’m never right after leaving the outpost. My regular team is used to the way I withdraw a bit when we leave, needing at least the first day's walk to get myself right. It seems I’ve gotten too used to them and their understanding. After my night with Eli and then the blow up with the fucking Blue Creek crew, everyone is looking at me like I’m about to blow my stack.
It’s really not helping my shitty mood.
The outpost takes it out of me. I feel like there are two Jacobs. The Jacob I could have been and the Jacob that I am.
The Jacob I could have been is the Jacob at the outpost. I know the people there, and I’m friendly enough to most of them—especially when Eli’s not with me and I don’t spend the whole time shit scared someone’s gonna come and snatch him up.
I talk to the old fellas there, listen to their stories—even share some of my own if the time’s right. There are others there that’ve lived the merchie life. Some of them’ve stopped because it’s too rough on their bodies to go travelling, or their routes have stopped being worth it. Others just felt the call to settle down in one place.
Talking to them reminds me how it was, travelling with Mitch and Sarah. Not a single one knows how to tell a story without adding their own wild spin to the yarn—but that’s half the fun of it all.
Some of it is business—I need to have the right connections to get a decent deal on trades. No one does business at the outpost getting on their bad side. But most of it is for me.
But it’s a skin that doesn’t quite fit right. I’ve seen too fucking much in this shithole world for that Jacob to fit anymore. Sometimes I feel like that old Jacob would be ashamed of who I am now. Ashamed that I chose—and continue to choose—the security of The Facility.
This is all the shit leaving that place dredges up for me.
And then there’s Eli. Fucking Eli. I am the dumbest fuck on the planet for agreeing.Just one night. Fuck. I’ll never forget the feel of his touch. He calls me a ghost? What a fucking joke. He’ll haunt me forever. There’s nothing left for me now that I know.
It’ll be easier once we get back to our real lives at The Facility and we’re not in each other's face constantly. He can go back to his life and his friends, and his dates. And I can go back to watching him. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, not now that Iknow, but I’ll find a way. I don’t have any other choice.
