Page 87 of Unloaded
“So easy,” he chuckles and punches my upper arm. “Come on, drama queen. Let’s get going.”
We reach the library much sooner than I expect, which is a relief. I hadn’t been kidding about starving. I’m beginning to feel a bit lightheaded from lack of food and drink. It’s been close to twenty-four hours since I last ate or drank anything.
At least the rain has stopped, so we didn’t get soaked on our way here. Stepping into the library, I’m hit with the familiar scent of old books. I follow Ricky over to the room where they have several computers available for public use.
Ricky grabs a chair in front of an empty terminal. I grab another chair and pull it over to sit beside him. He logs onto his Gmail account and starts a new message. It doesn’t take long to type out the email address and code word Jason gave us the night we’d gone to his house. The computer makes a swishing sound followed by a pop up saying ‘email sent’.
“Should we wait for a reply?” Ricky glances at me.
“No, we need to get on the move. We have no idea if Dad can track us by computer or not,” I remind Ricky.
“I don’t think he could, but he might have someone in his employ who can,” Ricky comments, looking around the library nervously. “Let’s go and hope that someone is monitoring that account.” We leave the library and head down the street to find some food.
“I believe they will be monitoring the account,” I tell Ricky as we enter a hole in the wall café. A big screen T. V. covers most of one wall.The Big Band Theoryis on. It’s one of my and Ricky’s favorite sitcoms. “I’m sure Rosco told Rachel about it, too. He’ll be looking for her.” I knew without a doubt that Rosco would be looking for Rachel. That man loves her whether or not he’s willing to admit it.
“We should see if we can find a television with the news on,” I continue as we walk up to the counter to place our order. The server, a redhead with half her cleavage hanging out of her blouse, hears me.
“I can change the channel if you’d like?” The young woman smiles as her eyes rove over each of us with an appreciative gaze. When her eyes reach mine, I return the smile.
“Sure, that would be great, darlin’,” I answer. Her smile widens at the endearment, and she grabs the remote from under the counter and presses some buttons. A local station appears with a reporter in front of a map, giving the local forecast for the next seven days.
Ricky gives me a questioning look but doesn’t ask until we’ve both ordered our food and taken seats at a side table where we can see both doors, front and back, and the television.
“What’s with the sudden interest in current events?” He gestures toward the T.V. screen.
“I figure with Rachel missing, Rosco has set the world on fire. I’m just looking for any news story that might give us a clue as to what’s happening. Not to mention our father is likely searching for us. You know he doesn’t do anything discretely.”
“Good thinking, bro.” Ricky takes a huge bite of his hot ham and cheese, with extra meat and cheese, sandwich. “You do have good ideas occasionally. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because I’m the brains and you’re the brawn, dumbass,” I say before digging into my own roast beef sandwich, also with double meat and extra cheese. The first bite is heaven. The warm savory saltiness of beef hits my tongue. I don’t even try to hold back the hum of appreciation that escapes me.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” the server asks. She’s come out from behind the counter to stand near our table. “That’s one of my favorites. If you guys are still hungry after you finish your food, I have some fresh baked brownies. I made them myself.” The expectant expression on her face says I can’t say no.
“That sounds good,” I reply. “I’ll be sure to save room for one.” Her face lights up as her smile widens. She’s actually apretty woman. Probably a few years older than we are, but age doesn’t really matter to me.
It’s too bad we won’t be around long. At least I hope we aren’t. We need to get back to Virginia Beach and help rescue Rachel. But even if our sister isn’t missing, we can’t afford to develope attachments, not until we’ve dealt with our father once and for all,ifthat is even possible.
A few minutes later, after Ricky and I have inhaled our food, I’m about to ask the girl about her brownies when Ricky taps me on the arm. “Fuck! Is that one of Dad’s men?”
I turn my attention to the large window facing the street. A tall man with a broad, muscular back and shoulders is standing on the sidewalk. He’s well over six feet tall with dark brown hair that’s beginning to gray around the edges. He looks to be in his fifties, but I’m not the best at judging ages.
The man is definitely someone to be suspicious of. He’s more alert than the average person. He is looking at his phone, but his head is on a swivel, constantly checking his surroundings. He places a phone call and puts his phone to his ear as he steps closer to the café to get out of the flow of pedestrians on the sidewalk.
It hits me seconds before it happens that he is going to look inside. Before I can get Ricky to duck under the table, he’s already spotted us. Our eyes meet. Fear shoots through me when I see recognition register on his face. He moves faster than I would think a man his age and size could move.
The moment he enters the door, Ricky and I are on our feet and headed toward the back of the café, startling the server as she’s coming out of the kitchen. “Are you ready for your brownies?”
We don’t have time to explain, but I can’t leave her to be hurt by our dad’s goon either. I’m about to grab her and drag her along with us when the man speaks. “Raj!”
Ricky and I both freeze. It’s the safe word. We had sent ‘bazinga’ in the email. The appropriate response from us is Sheldon, but what if Dad’s men had been able to hack us? Could they have figured out what they were supposed to say to get us to trust them? I seriously doubt anyone could figure out that answer so quickly, but we should be cautious.
“I know you boys don’t know me,” the man continues, “but I’m Branch Robertson, Rosco’s uncle. He sent me to find you and get you out of the city and back to Virginia Beach. I can call him so he can verify what I’m saying.”
Ricky and I turn to face him. I give him a hard once over. I can see some family resemblance. I glance at Ricky, and he gives me a nod. Looks like our email paid off. “Okay, call Rosco.”
38
ROSCO
