11: The Roadhouse
“It’s not unusual for a driver to come home and realize they don’t fit in with their family anymore. We see things on the road one would have trouble believing because they stay within the protective confines of major cities. From lava flows replacing rivers to shifting forests and road pirates, the truck drivers of Ventros keep cargo moving at a silent cost to themselves.” – Unknown long haul driver in an interview to the Nalia Gazette.
Victoria’s contact was nowhere to be seen at the bar and they weren't answering their cell phone either. Which was unusual, because according to Victoria, Sapphire always answered her call. Something about owing Victoria his life, but Catherine didn't bother to ask much of the details.
She knew that if her wife wanted to tell her the story then she would tell the story. Relationships between dragons were strange to the changeling, because they seemed more like one dragon held a favor over the other and they exchanged them like one exchanged money.
Much like Victoria was exchanging coins and cash as she played cards with a group of human acquaintances across the bar. They had time to kill, because of a twenty car pileup at the gate, which was expected to be cleared in three hours. Even then, traffic would be hell to navigate through, leaving Vic and Cat only ninety minutes before they had to head back to Stevie.
At least according to her internal calculations she based on her assumption of where traffic would go around the crash at. Catherine sat alone at a table somewhere as far from prying eyes as she could get. She didn't want to interact with people. She just wanted to watch Victoria play cards and drink her tea in peace.
Victoria sat at a table with a few others. Her neon yellow high-vis shirt was the brightest thing in the room, drawing anyone’s gaze to the dragoness. Her wraparound sunglasses sat atop a ten gallon hat much like Catherine’s. The dragoness held a pair of cards close to her as she smiled at the people around her. Five cards lay stretched out over the table before her.
There was a time when Catherine didn't know what Amarillo Poker was, but Victoria made sure the changeling knew how to play hold ‘em once she discovered the deficiency.
Catherine’s wild hair concealed her ears, allowing her to blend in with the humans. Mostly. A close look would reveal her elven facial features. No one bothered her while she watched the poker game and drank her tea. She had her attention split between the game, her tarot cards, and running a diagnostics scan to see what exactly was wrong with her.
So far, her system hadn't found any defects beyond the usual ones that she knew about. It told her that she needed a System Update, her leg was destroyed, one of her ears was damaged, and her power core’s cooling fins were partially clogged with a strange substance.
The loud clack of billiard balls slapping against each other drew Catherine's attention to a nearby billiard table. A group of men and women wearing leather riding jackets were clustered around two tables playing a game Catherine would rather play than poker; Nine-ball. It was an easier game for the changeling. All she had to do was turn off her targeting system, her facial, vocal, and body language analyzer, and she could actually have fun hitting the balls around the table and pretending to be a changeling again.
For all intents and purposes, Catherine was a changeling. She looked like a changeling when she showed her true form, she could still switch forms at will, the only oddities were the guns in her arms and the access port on the back of her neck. But most cyborgs and androids had an access port.
Her leg was a sore subject. She remembered losing it. Sure, an android could have parts swapped out, or regrown with magic from a spell mechanic. But when you are tasked with infiltrating the enemy and an artillery shell from your own side happens to land in the same room as you, you're lucky to have all your limbs attached. Let alone be alive afterward. She had the paladin Telas Torvir Sorvskan to thank for that. The man knew who she was and still shielded her from the attack.
Once she was done with the diagnostics scan, she linked up with the bar’s free Wi-Fi and began to search the internet for anything she could compare against her own records. Mostly wartime activities and major events up to the year 181. But there was a problem connecting to the Wi-Fi like she did; she wasn't supposed to directly connect.
Any government agent looking for escaped androids would see her ping and unique I.D. They’d then send a recall code to Catherine and her system would attempt to obey and head ‘home’. She didn't want to go back. She just wanted to be in peace and quiet on the road.
She was quick with her search, downloading whole webpages and storing them in an isolated folder before severing the connection, and shutting off her Wi-Fi receiver. She’d have to look at them later.
Even as Catherine tried to block out the group of bikers and their echoing voices as they all tried to talk over each other, and the country music. It didn't work. The many conversations made her overturned and damaged ears ring with each word, reminding her why she didn't go out in large groups without ear plugs.
She shuffled a stack of tarot cards, cutting them and then restacking them before shuffling a second time. Followed by cutting them into quarters and turning two, then reshuffling them. The changeling worked the cards for some time, occasionally glancing up to see how Victoria was doing in her game.
Once Catherine was satisfied, she spread the deck across the table and spoke softly in an ancient language while her eyes glowed a bright purple. She placed a hand over the deck intending to draw a card, but the heavy thud of motorcycle boots against wood flooring reached her ears. Movement at the edge of her vision drew her gaze to a man in a heavy winter jacket and pants.
Catherine sighed heavily, knowing what he wanted before he spoke. She leaned away from the deck and slowly covered her drink by placing her hand over it as if she was going to pick it up.
The light haired man smiled at her, waving. “Are you able to read the future?” the human asked in common.
She smiled at him, which made his smile only widen. Catherine’s eyes drifted momentarily to Victoria to see if she noticed the man.
The dragoness was frozen in the middle of setting a small stack of chips in the center of her table. Victoria tilted her head ever so slightly as if to ask if Catherine was alright.
Catherine barely dipped her head forward in the subtlest of nods, knowing Victoria would see it, just before Catherine sat upright and pulled her tea close to her.
Victoria returned her eyes to her table and released her hold on her chips.
“Maybe I can read the future? Maybe not?” Catherine half-shrugged to the man, not moving her hand even though the man couldn't reach her drink any more. She wasn't sure if he had put anything in it on the approach and wasn't taking any chances.
The stocky man motioned at her. “Think you could read mine?”
“No,” she said quietly. She shook her head and brought her drink to her lips, tilting it just enough the icy sweet tea caressed her closed mouth. She held it for the longest of moments as if actually drinking, eventually setting the glass down.
“Why not?”
Catherine lightly wiggled her finger in response to Victoria as if to say she had the situation handled, but kept her attention firmly on the man. “That’s too vague of a question, eh,” Catherine said. “Unless you want your reading to be vague, I suggest you be more specific.”
“I wanna know if I’ll be rich in the future.”
Catherine groaned internally, but kept her small smile and didn't show her distaste for such a reading. Those were always trouble if she got them even remotely close to what the person didn't want to hear. Catherine scooped the deck into her hands once again and shuffled them.
“I only do palm readings for other people,” Catherine said. She motioned for the man to sit. “Thirty dollars gets you an hour,” Catherine said as she set her glass down. “Up front.”
The man slapped two bills on the counter, which Catherine promptly stuffed into a leg pocket. Once the money was secure she put her tarot cards in the same pocket and waited for the biker.
The music shifted once the song was over to the slow intro of a song singing about the end of the world.
The biker held his right hand out, palm up.
Catherine glanced over at the other bikers still playing billiards, then looked through the frost covered windows to the setting sun outside. Victoria’s dented and faded sedan sat parked with the nose facing the street in case they needed to leave fast, license plate removed.
A group of motorcycles heavily loaded with baggage were parked next to the car. Other cars filled the parking lot including a couple pickups. Catherine took in the open space between the driver’s side of the sedan and the motorcycles, making a mental note of what it looked like.
Once she was done and satisfied in case she had to run, she nodded to the biker. “Both hands, palms down,” she said.
He followed her instructions. Catherine ever so gently poked and prodded his calloused hand to see if it was feeling icy or warm. It was warm and full of life, so she grabbed both hands with hers.
*** ***
Victoria glanced up from her cards again to check in on Cat. The disguised changeling was hunched forward, eyes glowing a bright purple as she spoke and held a man’s hands.
“What’s got you so distracted?” Jane asked from next to Victoria. Her long nails tapped against a mostly full glass, receiving a loud ring in reply that snapped Victoria out of her daze.
Victoria looked over at the strawberry blonde woman with brown eyes, keeping her pair of sevens face down on the table. The pale dragoness thought about what to say, but there wasn't much to say, really. Chessa wanted to go over there the instant the biker appeared, but Cat kept telling her to wait.
So she waited and it seemed as if Cat handled it on her own without Chessa’s intervention.
“You're usually not so distracted,” Kevin, a younger balding man, said from Victoria’s left. He tossed a single chip into the pot. “Call.”
Victoria cracked a hesitant smile at the three humans assembled at the poker table. “My wife just got out of prison,” Victoria said, lifting her cards ever so slightly to act as if she were trying to remember what she had. She didn't need to, really. All she needed was a quick look at the river cards to know her hand was trash.
All she had was her pair of sevens, but her distracted demeanor meant she wasn't thinking clearly. Her mind so focused on Cat, Victoria picked up a pair of chips and set them next to the pile. “I’ll raise ya.”
Jane giggled softly. “It's not your turn, silly. You just went.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Victoria blinked, looked at Kevin, then at Larry, who was staring at Victoria from across the table. She slowly pulled her chips back and shook her head. “Sorry…” When she leaned back her ancient two barreled hold out pistol and its holster gently pressed into her spine reminding her it was there.
“It's alright,” Jane said, gently patting Victoria on the shoulder.
Larry nodded as well, the jade haired human checked his cards momentarily before tossing them into the discard pile. “Fuck it, I’m out. Can't make a move now if I know Vic’s gonna raise on her turn.”
Victoria frowned at her cards before eyeing Cat momentarily.
The changeling’s eyes were still glowing while tendrils of purple energy flowed from her hands and enveloped the biker’s hands. A bit of a dramatic display for a basic palm reading, but theatrics was a part of Cat’s antics.
“Vic?” Jane asked, gently nudging Victoria’s shoulder. “I fold, you're up.”
Victoria looked at Kevin, Larry, then Jane and back to her hand. “I fold as well. Let's start a new hand. Sorry.”
Kevin flicked his cards into the pile and pulled the pot toward himself. The buttons were shifted leaving Victoria without anything to do while Kevin shuffled the cards around.
Larry looked back toward the bar and waved. “Could we get some more drinks, please?” He called out. The man had a light beer in a blue can in front of him.
“So, you said she just got out?” Jane asked, looking toward Cat. “What for? If you don't mind.”
Victoria took her cards when they were dealt and peered at her queen high. She leaned back in the seat, relaxing her shoulders a bit. There was a simple plan in place if anyone asked about where Cat had been. Victoria shrugged in reply to Jane, shaking her head. “Bootlegging again,” Victoria said, placing a small stack of chips in the center of the table to call.
“What do you mean ‘again’?!” Larry gasped, his eyes widening, hands covering his cards. “You're telling me you had access to some potent alcohol all these years and you ain’t sharing?!”
“I haven't touched alcohol since I lived in Knight’s Harrow,” Victoria said softly. “So no, I didn't have access.”
“My grandfather said that place was destroyed in the early aughts,” Larry said.
The others all looked up from their cards and stared silently at Victoria, because she told them she was human, not dragon and Knight’s Harrow was destroyed 95 years ago and she only looked 45. Each and every pair of eyes was like a laser to her thoughts, attempting to peer into her past. Not a nice thing to look into.
Victoria nodded, not elaborating further. She allowed the table’s silence to hang. Silence only drowned out by the music and loud talking from the other tables. Seconds slowly passed by, turning into almost a full half a minute.
Victoria’s silver eyes continued to stare into the felt tablecloth well past the time everyone had gone back to their cards. Her vision blurred during the brief moment she took to grab her sarsaparilla and down the last few drops. Victoria didn't want to think about Knight’s Harrow, for anytime she did she heard the echoing laughter of the monster that destroyed the town. A town which blamed her for the destruction, because she dared to reveal her true nature and help.
Victoria glanced at Kevin.
The young man frowned deeply at something, eyes quickly glancing around the table and back to his cards. In the dimly lit room, she noticed the faintest twitch of his lip.
The pot in the table was small, having just started, yet Kevin threw in a double bet and said, “F-first I've heard about that city.”
“It was a cursed place,” Victoria said, her voice carrying no further than the table. “And got what was coming to it.”
A waitress came by and set fresh drinks down, not saying anything to anyone. Victoria did smile at her. It was a small smile that reached no further than her mouth. Victoria’s mind was trying to dredge up long dead memories, so she shook her head and grabbed her new drink.
Larry matched Kevin’s bet. “Thanks, darling!” he exclaimed as he tipped his fresh drink toward the waitress.
Victoria watched the waitress pass by Cat, eyes following the woman’s lithe movements. Pulling her attention from the waitress, she again checked on Cat. The changeling was now running her hands along the biker’s palms while shadowed people danced and shifted between them on the table.
Everything appeared to be going fine, so she rubbed her forehead and looked over at Jane.
Jane matched Kevin’s original be, a hum in her throat that said she was all too comfortable about the bet.
Victoria lifted her cards so only the corner showed her what was there. Her face was not telling what went on in her head to the others beyond the grim line. She tried to keep her thoughts on the game, but Chessa wouldn’t allow it!
Kevin is bluffing, Chessa whispered softly to her.
Chessa! Stop! Victoria closed her eyes.
Why?! Follow my advice and you’ll win.
Please! This ain’t a gamblin’ barge on the Big River! These are my friends!
So?! We can take their money!
Victoria tossed her cards at the pile, shaking her head. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait for me.” She set her hat over her chips, grabbed her sarsaparilla and headed for fresh air.
*** ***
“Hey… Sapphire. Was hopin’ to see ya tonight ‘cause we need your help. Call us when ya wake up,” Victoria said into her phone, only a cold lonely machine listening in. “Somethin’ ain’t right with Cat and… and we dunno what to do. Cat ain't Cat. Well, she’s Cat, but not our Cat. She’s Robo Cat from another timeline and our Cat is somewhere else. We ain’t been drinkin’ and we ain’t with an egg, and we don’t think she’s takin’ Gethel. Please, call us as soon as you can.”
She hung up and slid her phone into her pants pocket. Victoria leaned on the awning’s wooden post and stared out across the snow covered parking lot at the two lane road the bar sat on. The setting sun was fairly low on the horizon, casting long shadows the dimly lit bar tried to hold back. The large neon sign beckoning for drivers to stop was far, far brighter.
She sipped from her sweet drink, listening to the vibrations of the music playing within the bar. The silent people having conversations about everything behind her, yet Victoria was outside alone.
Her sedan sat patiently waiting for her to take the wheel, its low slung hood ready to cut through the air. The old cloth top was torn and patched by her own hand. Cracks in the plastic bumpers and dents in the fenders showed where it had collided with objects in the past. An old car with a scarred past much like its owner.
The hum of a car driving down the road drew her attention to it and she watched the sedan slowly pass the roadside bar until it was out of sight heading somewhere further into the Shimmering Sea. The Bucking Stallion was nestled along the back roads between Nalia and Petersburg further into the city. A little hole in the wall if Victoria ever saw one.
One lone streamlined semi was parked near enough to the bar she could read the license plate, its curtains drawn to a close and the auxiliary power unit humming along to keep the driver warm. It was Friday night, yet the semis hadn't filled the parking lot yet.
I need you to be quiet while I’m playing cards, Victoria said quietly to Chessa as she took another sip of her drink.
“Why?” Chessa whispered out loud, using Victoria’s own mouth to speak. “We need to show ‘em we’re more than capable of taking’ their money!”
Victoria shook her head, hanging her head low as she sighed softly. It wasn't about dominating a game between close acquaintances, but about spending time with the humans and getting to know them during their fleeting lifespans. She told this to Chessa, yet Victoria felt a small growl building in her throat and pushed it back.
“Stop, please!” Victoria hissed. “It ain’t fun for anyone if someone wins every hand. How can you say you've learned how to talk to modern mortals if you still act like a whelp?!”
“Fine. How is our not-wife-robot?”
Victoria glanced over her shoulder to have a look through the window, but didn’t see the changeling anywhere in the bar. The table she had been sitting at was on its side, the biker was angry and everyone was looking around the room.
A pop shattered the silence behind Victoria, followed quickly by the smell of a damp musty forest drifting into her nose.
Oh for the love of the Dark Lady!
“Let's go before they realize I teleported!” Cat yelled, getting to her feet and reaching for the driver’s door handle.
Victoria tossed her keys to Cat and pushed herself away from the awning support. “We need to get Cale’s hat.”
“What?! We need to leave, now!” Cat shouted as she practically threw herself inside the car. “He's fucking pissed!”
“Don't care, we need Cale’s hat,” Victoria hissed, her well worn cowboy boots thumping on the wood patio as she made her way to the bar’s front door.
“It's not worth it!”
The sedan fired up with a growl, before falling to a loping idle akin to a horse trotting.
Victoria entered the bar and was immediately met with a wall of sound loud enough it drowned out the waiting sedan. She heard the bikers shouting something, but ignored them and focused on making her way toward the poker table.
Larry, Kevin and Jane watched her approach, but Jane’s eyes were on something behind Victoria. Victoria heard the heavy footsteps following her but ignored them.
“Hey!” the biker shouted, his deep voice carrying over the music to the pale dragoness. “Where’d the fortune teller go?!”
“Turned into a pumpkin,” Victoria said. She set her drink on the table and picked up her hat, placing it atop her head.
Larry slowly stood up from the table, holding his hands out toward the biker in a calming gesture, nodding. “Now hold on, I don’t know what the mystic said to you, but it's not worth a fight.”
“She stole my money,” the biker said.
Victoria looked at her twenty dollars in chips and slid them to pot, keeping her eyes off the biker behind her.
Use the sarsaparilla bottle! It’s right there next to your hand!
Victoria moved her hand to the bottle, following Chessa’s advice, but stopped when she felt her heart beating faster and faster. Her hand shook ever so slightly. She couldn't afford to act in haste. Not in the bar, not in front of so many people. She was stuck in the old ways of keeping her true form hidden from the world, much to Chessa’s annoyance. She frowned, slowly shaking her head.
“How did she steal your money?” Victoria asked, her voice remaining as calm as when she was playing cards.
“I paid for an hour and it's only been twenty minutes!”
“You ended the reading by flipping the table,” Victoria said. Her hand dropped and rested at her side. “No refunds.” Victoria’s trembling hand reached for the bottle a second time, but she turned around to face the man instead of grabbing it.
Larry stood on the opposite end of the table still. He wobbled ever so slightly as he pointed at the biker. His bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Seems to me the lady is right.”
“The green-haired bitch lied to me!” the biker yelled.
Victoria slowly moved her left hand under her hi-vis shirt where her holdout pistol was holstered on her belt. “Don't call our wife that,” Victoria demanded, staring up at the tall biker. “What she told ya was truth. If you're unhappy, then—”
“Bullshit!” The biker glared. “She lied!”
“Our wife can’t lie,” Victoria replied as calmly as she could. She shifted her weight to one foot and gripped the pistol. “She is forbidden to lie.”
“How does that work?” Kevin asked.
“You're full of shit!” The biker reached for Victoria’s arm.
Victoria jumped to the side, her boots thumping into the wood where she landed. Everyone heard the metallic click of her pistol being cocked as she drew the weapon and aimed it right at the man’s face. The biker froze, eyes widening slightly.
Victoria took a step toward the door to put some distance between her and the biker.
Jane gasped. “What the hell are you doing, Victoria?!”
Victoria locked eyes with the man once again, a smirk creeping across her face. She took in every detail. From the way his hair was combed to the shape of his nose, to his ears and jaw, until she was satisfied she had a clear mental picture seared into her memory.
“No need for that!” The barkeep yelled. Victoria knew he had his hand on a shotgun, ready to draw it if she actually fired the weapon. Sapphire’s bar was not a place for guns and the barkeep would shoot anyone, even Victoria, if they dared to discharge a weapon inside.
“You only have two shots,” the biker said to Victoria, keeping his eyes on her as she backed toward the door.
“One for you, and one for the first person to come for us.”
“Threatening me is a mistake,” the biker said. “I know your name.”
“Your threats do not scare us, for you are like a hatchling tryin’ to take flight for the first time.” Victoria hopped to the door and grabbed the handle. “Don't follow us, it won't end well, hatchling.”
*** ***
The old sedan flew down the dark road, its engine rumbling quietly to Catherine and Victoria. Well worn bucket seats comfortably held the both of them. The heater let out just enough heat to keep it comfortable, but no more. Just the way Victoria liked the temperature.
Victoria leaned her seat back a few notches so she wasn't sitting as upright and let out a soft sigh. The bar hadn't gone as initially planned, but neither had it been as terrible as she thought. They got out of there without a fight and a small story to tell.
Catherine looked in the rearview. No motorcycles pulled out to follow as the two women left the bar in their dust. She smiled to herself. Ahead of them lay nothing, but an open road that wound its way behind Nalia and through a few hills toward Petersburg where Victoria lived some forty kilometers away from Nalia.
Catherine held her fist over an empty center cup holder and opened it, letting a few small items clatter against plastic.
Victoria picked one of the objects up and looked at it as they passed underneath a street lamp. It illuminated the interior just long enough for her to see the round cylindrical shape of a tire valve stem core. She giggled quietly, recognizing the item for what it was, and rolled the window down to throw the core outside. The bikers wouldn't be following if there was no air in their tires.
The road curved around a small hill with a vineyard on one side. Rows and rows of grapevines stretched into the far distance across even more hills.
When Catherine was sure they weren't being followed she let the car coast down to the speed limit. A large splotch of water fell on the windshield, followed by another and another. Catherine flicked the wipers on low and slowed the car down even more.
“Seems the snow’s started,” Catherine said quietly, her eyes drifting to the vineyard's fence on their left before scanning the right side of the road for any deer.
Victoria rested her hand on Catherine’s to test for a reaction. Catherine replied by gently squeezing her hand and holding it between them. Victoria looked at Catherine. “So… what happened?”
“He started off wanting to know about his future wealth, then asked if his girlfriend was cheating on him. I read his palm and said he’d have a bad encounter with a strange woman in the near future.”
Victoria only nodded slowly.
“You going back in there was perfect!” Catherine giggled. The car made a lazy left as the vineyard gave way to farmlands. Catherine was forced to slow down for an intersection at the top of a small hill. She made a right at the stop sign, rolling through without coming to a full stop, forgetting she was in a car and not pulling a heavy load. She took the turn just as wide as she went into the oncoming lane in a button hook maneuver, much like when pulling a trailer.
The road became even narrower as they travelled further and further northwest, eventually becoming a one lane road.
Victoria snapped her fingers and looked at Catherine. “Ice cream or movies?”
“Hmm… both sound good?” Catherine glanced at Victoria and shrugged.
Victoria shook her head. “Nah, I’d rather watch movin’ pictures at home, holding hands and cuddling.”
“We could do that.” Catherine nodded slowly. “With dinner and desert?”
“I don't feel like cooking. I usually pick up somethin’ quick on the way home.”
“I could cook?”
“When was the last time ya actually cooked something?” Victoria pulled Catherine’s hand close and allowed the hand to linger against her cheek. Victoria savored the short moment, even though it wasn’t her Catherine, closing her eyes and smiling at the touch. A feeling she sorely missed over the last near two years without the changeling.
Catherine patted Victoria’s cheek as best she could. She slowed the car once more for a sharp hairpin turn, using both hands to spin the wheel around. The momentum of the car threatened to throw both occupants against the outside of the turn.
“Good point,” Catherine said. “I hate to say it, but we won’t have much time at home if we do go.”
“It’s fine, hun. I’ll introduce you to Melissa, and that’ll give me time to take a shower.”