Messiahs, Matt Rogers [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

walls were off-yellow and cream, and the big sign out front advertised WEEKLY RATES, FREE BREAKFAST, WIFI.

It was a better representation of their financial situation than the Arbuckle Lodge. King and Slater were vets with money to burn, but Violetta and Alexis were backpackers on a tight budget, spending what little remained of their savings on this cross-country expedition.

They checked in, both of them polite and shy, avoiding small talk like it was cancerous and refusing to make eye contact with the receptionist for longer than a second or two.

Then they went to their room. It was tiny, rundown, with a single queen-sized bed for them to share.

Violetta said, ‘I’ll go for a walk for most of the afternoon, make my presence known about the town. Just in case we’re being surveilled.’

Alexis said, ‘Have you spotted anything?’

Violetta shook her head. ‘No, and I doubt anyone knows we’re here yet. But it doesn’t hurt to be cautious. And the sun’s out. It’s a nice day for a walk, anyway.’

‘I’ll stay here,’ Alexis said. ‘Get in the right headspace for tonight.’

‘You know what you need to do?’

Alexis nodded. ‘Crystal clear.’

‘You think it’ll be a problem?’

Alexis said, ‘Won’t know until I try, but it shouldn’t be too complicated.’

‘You’re more confident than you used to be.’

‘I’ve been putting in consistent effort,’ Alexis said. ‘If that doesn’t lead to confidence, nothing will.’

Violetta said, ‘You ever think about what happened in The Bahamas?’

Alexis hesitated. ‘In what sense?’

‘You know what sense.’

Alexis shook her head. ‘Not like the first time. But that’s the case with everything, isn’t it? The first time’s the hardest. When it’s all unknown. That great chasm of … the unknown.’

‘And now?’

‘Now I could step out of this room and kill someone to save my own skin and not think twice about it.’

Violetta shook her head in bemusement. ‘That didn’t take long. You’re all caught up.’

‘Not quite,’ Alexis said. ‘Still got a lot of work to put in.’

‘What will you do while I’m out?’

‘Think about tonight. Train. There’s a lot you can do with just your bodyweight.’

Violetta took in the words, let them digest, then said, ‘You’re Slater 2.0.’

‘Not a bad label. I’ll take it.’

Violetta smiled. ‘Not a bad label at all.’

She headed for the door. ‘I’ll bring food back.’

Alexis was already completing a set of walking lunges across the tiny space. ‘Thanks. I’ll need it.’

Violetta walked out to enjoy the day.

19

As night fell over Gillette, Alexis sat alone at the bar of The Office Saloon, north of the city’s main arterial street.

Neon lit-up Budweiser and Coors signs graced the walls above two pool tables with blue felt. A handful of blue-collar workers milled around the tables, shooting pool and shooting the breeze simultaneously. She overhead ample gossip about bosses, wives, kids, the political climate, and the state of the economy. The bartender had happily served her three Cosmopolitan cocktails in a row, elated to have something to put his mind to other than crack the tops of beer bottles and slide them over the counter to the regulars. He’d been courteous and pleasant for the hour she’d been here, making polite conversation but being careful not to linger.

He could tell she wanted her privacy.

Really, she just needed to talk to one of the regulars, and she was waiting for the inevitable approach. The bartender was in his early twenties, with a hint of stubble and long brown hair falling over his forehead. She doubted he had connections to the vein of Gillette’s invisible gossip highway.

Then a guy in his early thirties dropped into the stool beside her.

He wore a flannel shirt and worn-in jeans above work boots. His demeanour was confident — he kept his shoulders back and his posture up — but he didn’t make a direct advance. He signalled to the young bartender for another Coors, and the guy slid it across.

The thirty-something man finally glanced over at Alexis. ‘Haven’t seen you before.’

She met his eyes for a moment and smiled coyly. She couldn’t deny the alcohol helped the facade. It wasn’t hard to feign interest — beneath the stench of tobacco he was an attractive guy. White teeth — probably veneers, which must have cost half a year’s salary — and a smooth, acne-free complexion. His eyes were green.

She hesitated for a moment too long, feigning social awkwardness.

He took the reins. ‘I’m Brent. Pleased to meet you.’

‘Alexis,’ she said.

‘You from around here?’

‘No,’ she said, sipping from her third Cosmopolitan. ‘I’m not in town for long. Been drifting all over the place for a while.’

‘I feel you,’ he said. ‘Spent most of my youth on the road. It teaches you things. Hard to put into words. I’m sure you know what I mean.’

She smiled again. ‘That was my plan. Can’t say it’s working out the way I wanted.’

He finished a swig from his beer. ‘How so?’

He was good, she concluded. Not overt, not overbearing. In a different life, she might have taken this conversation seriously. He knew his way around an introduction.

But in this life, he was exactly the sort of easygoing gossiper she needed to spread word over town.

She said, ‘I’m seeing a lot of places, meeting a lot of people. But I don’t feel like I’m learning anything. I’m just … lost. Feels like I’ve got no place in this world, you know?’

‘How old are you?’

‘Thirty.’

The truth.

He smiled. ‘I’m thirty-five, and I didn’t figure anything out until last year. Was working all over the place, labour job after labour job. No end in sight. Then one day it all just clicked. I guess I realised I’d picked up enough bits and pieces to understand how it works behind the scenes, so I started my own carpentry business. Right now I’m pulling in 100K profit a year. Not bad, hey?’

Too eager to impress, Brent, she thought.

Outwardly, she let her eyes widen. ‘Damn. A man who knows what he’s doing. Haven’t met many of those lately.’

He couldn’t hide his enthusiasm, no matter how much he tried. ‘And I haven’t met a