Chapter 19: Drinks Over the Table

Ash continued his work routine for a few more days. Kiara seemed to have little difficulty recruiting others for her raid on The Cuffs. Sander kept reminding her that the real challenge was to ensure word of their attack didn’t reach the gang before they had a chance to strike.

In the evenings, when the three of them had a brief overlap, they began to plan the attack. Francis and Brigid gave them the corner table to ensure the greatest amount of privacy while discussing their plans. Occasionally, Garrick, the tavern guard, would make an appearance and listen into the plans, to consider the likelihood of his death at the hands of these inexperienced runts.

“I think it’s a good plan,” Kiara said, finishing her mug of beer. She lifted her hand to Brigid and signalled for more drinks at the table.

“I’m good,” Ash said. He had already finished two beers and was halfway through his third. He was starting to feel sick. He had never drunk so much in a single sitting. Casper, however, had.

“Nonsense,” said Kiara. She had finished her fourth drink and began to behave aggressively. “Look, Lewis ain’t complaining.”

Sander laughed as he finished his fourth pint. He refused to let some girl to drink him under the table. During his five years in the Wasteland, he had spent some long weeks on a constant alcohol-fuelled bender, driven by boredom and a looming sense of meaninglessness in this virtual world. The last few evenings of planning seemed to have given him a new purpose. The drinks, now, had become a celebration. The warmth of his face mirrored the warmth of his hearth. He figured that dying for a noble cause, even a fake virtual one, would be better than simply withering in a digital abyss. Plus, he had Ash to keep him company.

Garrick, however, never drank. He glared at Kiara until she met his eyes.

“Yes?” she asked with a smirk.

“It’s not a good plan. The only intelligent suggestion was about the gas station. We can set up a base of operations, rally the troops there, have a good rest, and then begin the assault either late at night or early in the morning. It would allow for greater freshness than driving out from Invernstead.”

“Good plan, like I said.” Kiara replied with a proud nod. Her eyes scanned the table for anything else that could be eaten.

“You heard the professional,” Sander said. “We can’t just knock upon their door and start shooting.”

“It’d be a disguise. We’d enter with one of Dunstan’s vans. We’d pretend to be selling a few slaves, but, when they open the back door -- bang! We’d emerge with guns blazing.” Kiara picked a neglected yucca fry from the plate.

“They’d be alert, suspicious. They’d have guns trained on the drivers and others. We’d have a fifty-fifty chance of success at the start. Maybe, afterward, it’d be easier,” Sander said.

“When the camp is asleep is the best bet,” Garrick added. He sipped water from his canteen. “Greater element of surprise. They’d be groggy and disorganized.”

“I like my plan,” Kiara said with a slam on the table.

Garrick shook his head and wandered back to the front door. His shift would start in a few minutes, but he preferred to rather than stay at the table while Kiara’s intoxication got the better of her.

“We should consider a few options,” Ash advised. “It’s a good idea, but we should come up with more, maybe another nine, and then we can choose the best.”

“This one is the best!” she shouted.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Sander flicked on his charm. “Kiara,” he said with a smooth voice, “you have the most insight about The Cuffs.”

“Darn right!”

“And you’ve come up with a really good plan.”

“Yup!”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to think of an even better one.”

Kiara pressed her lips together and moved them to one side in contemplation. The haze of her intoxication lifted for a moment as she recognized his good sense.

“Fine, tomorrow, we’ll rehash this discussion.”

Brigid came to the table and placed three more beers on it. “Caz, you’re going to need to work extra to afford all of these,” she said.

“Me? They’re the ones ordering! Charge them!” Ash responded indignantly.

Brigid took the empty mugs and plates from the table and cast a flirtatious glance at Sander.

“Oh, look at you,” Kiara said in a tone befit for a high school gossip. Before she could continue her taunt, Sander angrily exhaled through his nose and rose from the table. He took his beer in hand and walked to the bar, deciding to spend his night in the company of another woman.

“Ah! Who needs him?” Kiara looked into the liquid in her mug. Her previous excitement had suddenly died. Ash observed her and her thoughts. He had learned more about her while behind bars. She had revealed more through what she didn’t say than what she had. For one, she never spoke particulars about her time within The Cuffs. She may have killed the leader of their gang, and helped gun down another three members at the gas station, but she still had wounds -- wounds she tried to heal on her own. Ash noticed her trembling hands. Kiara lifted her mug to her lips and drank deeply. Her lips curved with a trace of bitterness.

“Come on, boy,” she said in a burst of false cheer. “Can’t leave me to drink on my own!”

Ash chugged the rest of his third beer. The only thing worse than drinking another round was how loud Kiara had become tonight.

“I’d never let ye drink alone, girlie.”

Ash turned in his seat to see a man with thinning blonde hair approach their table. It was the drunk from the first night at the Blackguard Inn. Ash watched as he swaggered into the spot that Sander had vacated.

“Remember me?” the man said, tightly gripping his mug of beer. Unlike their first meeting, he was the sober one in the group.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but the list of men I’ve rejected is long. Which one are you?” Kiara’s words slurred happily as she took another sip.

“Filip, darling. The name’s Filip.” The man slapped Ash’s back. “She’s quite the character, ain’t she?”

“She is,” Ash responded curtly. He did not want to sit beside this man. Last time, Filip had been involved, the whole bar broke out in a fight. If he tried to get rid of him, events might repeat.

“Alrighty, Filip. You can go. I have no desire to speak to the likes of you.” Kiara’s voice turned a little serious.

“Ah, darling, ye’ve not given me a chance yet.”

“She said go,” Ash commanded, surprising himself at the force of his voice. Filip twisted in his seat and stared at Ash. “Last time, you were lucky. I ended up killing those tattooed sisters.” Ash straightened his back in his seat and crossed his legs. With the ankle of his combat boot exposed, he could grab the combat knife hidden in it before Filip could react.

“Ooo, a big boy, are ye?” Filip laughed until a heavy hand descended onto his shoulder and pinched. Ash’s gaze followed the arm to the figure behind Filip.

“Smiles?”

The old man from New Cistern dragged Filip over his chair and onto the ground.

“Scram, Pete!” The old man yelled.

Ash pulled the knife from his boot. If he had to fight Smiles one more time, he would make sure it would be the last time. Kiara stood with Ash.

Filip struggled to his feet and raised his fists into the air. He prepared himself to fight against the three of them. He felt confident enough to take on a drunk girl, a meek boy, and an old man.

“Do I have to arrest you again, Filip?”

Ash saw that Smiles had entered the tavern with the red-haired woman. Her casual appearance startled Ash, who had only seen her in military garbs.

“Scar?” Filip said with a quaver in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s my business. Now, you heard the woman. Go!”

Filip left the table without taking his drink with him. Ash and Kiara watched him slip into the night. The red-haired woman sat in the chair still warm from Filip and Sander. She picked up Filip’s mug, sniffed it, and took a small sip before putting it down with a look of disgust. “You two can stand this stuff?”

Smiles reached over the woman’s shoulders, plucked the mug from her hand, and drank its contents.

“What do you want? Not paid enough with your day job? Looking for extortion?” Kiara questioned, her voice full of venom.

“Not quite,” Scar said. “I heard you’re looking to attack The Cuffs.”