YF slowed down the truck a little when he passed The Vault. It took until the second horn from behind to get him to reactivate the truck reactor — which had stalled — and start back down the road. The road to the reactor seemed longer that day, even though he had made the trip multiple times. In fact, it was getting longer and longer with each day he drove. YF thought Kanezaki was happy because the old man enjoyed driving and being left alone. But after a week of doing the same job, YF felt constricted by the metal doors of the truck. No matter how wide he opened the windows the air seemed to get thinner and more stale. The reactor, thoroughly cooled so that it couldn’t have affected the cabin’s temperature by more than one or two degrees, still felt like it was cooking him inside it. YF could not see what brought Kanezaki his peace. It definitely wasn’t this job.
When he passed the reactor security gate YF parked in the nearest lot instead of continuing closer to the core building. He alighted from the driver’s side and then walked over to the rest station convenience store. YF bought a bowl of ramen, green tea and a vanilla ice cream bar. He then found the seat in the far back of the store, dropping the tea and ice cream on the window table. YF peeled the ramen lid halfway and then went to fill the bowl with the hot water dispenser. By the time he made it back to his seat, he saw Miyamoto walking through the automatic doors.
YF concentrated on eating his ramen, making sure he didn’t appear nervous even as he heard the ever loudening clop of boots against the ground until it stopped next to him.
“That seat taken?” asked Miyamoto.
“Douzo,” said YF.
Miyamoto sat down on the swivel chair and took out his own ice cream bar, pulling off the wrapper and biting a chunk off the top. “Not worried yours’ll melt?”
“I’ll eat what’s left of it,” said YF.
“Well how you’re downing that you’ll probably get to it in time.”
“Sure,” said YF, raising the bowl to his face and gulping the soup.
“Did you serve?” asked Miyamoto.
He put down the empty ramen bowl and turned to Miyamoto. YF wondered whether the truck team leader himself had served. It looked like he did. “No,” said YF.
“Got lucky with the lottery then?” asked Miyamoto.
“More or less.”
YF unwrapped his ice cream wrapper halfway, immediately placing his mouth over the top and sucking to get as much of the melting chunk as he could.
“Could spot you another one,” said Miyamoto.
YF didn’t reply, allowing several seconds of silence as he continued to eat his ice cream.
“I’ll get us some water for unloading.”
YF stopped eating. “I needed a moment, Miyamoto.”
Miyamoto put his hands up, the bare popsicle stick held between his right thumb and index finger. “Wasn’t so subtle, sorry.”
“Just a few minutes,” said YF. “I’ll make up whatever I need to make up.”
Miyamoto slowly lowered his hands, then clasped them together over the counter. “Something on your mind, Kondo?”
“Just thinking about home leave,” said YF as he opened the tea cap.
Miyamoto chuckled. “A few months out before you get that.”
“Right.”
“The cabin a bit stuffy?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” said YF.
“Hey listen, I have an idea.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve been around a bit, why don’t you pick the scrapers tomorrow? Get some fresh air. You can stay at the bay then, stop driving a while. Or drive if you want, doesn’t matter.”
YF frowned. “Why would you want me to do that?”
“Something wrong?”
YF looked up through the window at the glowing reactor, the massive structure that kept everyone in Itsugo alive. Sure he had seen it in textbooks and people talked about it from time to time. But few in his neighborhood had actually seen it; some, like Tatori, moved to Ichome for work, which usually meant they worked at the complex. But for some reason those people never came back to talk about it.
“I thought I’d feel privileged,” said YF.
Miyamoto looked up at the reactor as well. “What, privileged to work here?”
“Not being on a waiting list.”
Miyamoto seemed to start saying something, then stopped himself. “I see your point.”
YF finished his ice cream, crumpled up the wrapper and shoved it into the ramen bowl.
“Something you’d rather be doing then?”
“That’s what bothers me. I don’t know.”
“Home leave can help,” said Miyamoto. “But expect too much from that and you’ll feel about it like you do the cabin.”
“Let’s unload,” said YF.
***
Without the locals to help unload, the truckers had to count on themselves and the other shift workers — some of whom didn’t show up — to work the crates near the reactor. YF and Miyamoto pushed a heavy crate to the edge of the truck, whereby a forklift operator pulled it off the bed and off to the core.
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“Why don’t we let the locals through the reactor gate?” asked YF, wiping his forehead.
“Funny,” Miyamoto chuckled.
“No seriously.”
Miyamoto’s smile turned into a thin line. “Security clearance.”
“What’s there to hide?”
“I don’t know,” said Miyamoto.
YF shrugged. “Just asking. I mean this thing powers the village. Not a huge secret. It would help everyone if the process went a bit faster.”
Miyamoto’s expression twisted up slightly. “Yeah that makes sense.” He looked up at YF. “I’ll put in a word to the logistics manager.”
YF raised an eyebrow. “I can’t be the first person to think of it.”
Miyamoto shrugged. “Maybe you are. Maybe everyone thought the same, so it didn’t get done yet.”
“Either way we need to get this load done,” said YF, moving back to the crates.
Miyamoto followed YF to the crate. As YF planted his hands on the wood and pushed, he could feel his breath shortening. He grasped his chest, waiting for what came next. But then multiple seconds passed, and the dizziness and vision blurring he expected didn’t arrive.
“Something wrong Sakai?” asked Miyamoto.
“Think it’s the heat,” said YF. “You know where I could buy some blood subs out here?”
“Blood subs?” asked Miyamoto. “Normally in town. They don’t carry it plain at the rest station. It’s in the tea they give you for breakfast, lunch, dinner.”
“The tea at the rest station?”
Miyamoto frowned. “Yeah, you didn’t drink it before getting back in the truck?”
YF did. “I think I left it in the truck.”
“Go ahead and drink some. Make it easier to move this shit.”
“It’ll be fine, I’ll make it through. We getting tea with dinner also?” asked YF.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Miyamoto looked thoroughly confused.
“Let’s just get this over with and head back,” said YF. “Hungry.”
“Yeah.”
***
When they finished and YF got back in the truck cabin he stared at his empty tea bottle for a few moments before activating the reactor and starting up the truck. About halfway back to the bay, YF remembered that he needed to go into town to get supplies to fix his room. For that he would need to borrow a pickup truck, and figure out how to get the work done.
Back when YF’s father left the family Hiroyuki was the one who took up any handiwork that needed to be done. Between that and following Mohan on his part time job, most of YF’s repair skills were from observing rather than doing. He didn’t think he could get someone from in-town to help work on the room, but it didn’t hurt to ask the maintenance manager for a permit.
YF dropped the truck off at the bay and ran into Kanezaki stepping off the shuttle just as he was about to get on. Just the man YF needed to see.
“Kanezaki!”
The old man squinted, his hand suddenly clenching into a fist. He then loosened his hand, slowly smiling a gentle, yet cold smile. “Kondo? Need something?”
“You have a truck? I mean a personal one? Like a pickup?”
“What do you think?”
“Think I could borrow it?”
“It can’t go on the highway but it’ll haul whatever you need. Good thing is it’s registered to the office too, just flash your wrist and they should wave you through.”
“Sure.”
YF stood there, staring at Kanezaki for a while as the other day shift workers got off the shuttle. Kanezaki first looked confused until a look of realization came over his face. “Oh right, the credentials.”
Kanezaki pat down his pockets, then turned around once. “Left my receiver at the dorm. Tell you what. Go into my truck, fire up the terminal. Run the override, it’s 66501338. Swipe the credentials to yourself and log off. The tracker should work, but if it doesn’t the truck is off the 5-65th street garage number six, in town.”
“You’re not using your—” YF pointed with his thumb to Kanezaki’s work vehicle. “ — truck today?”
“Unfortunately not,” said Kanezaki. “S’my job to wave in the locals today, which usually means you stand guard out here too. No driving.”
YF frowned. “And you just take that?”
“Have to do some things in exchange for people leaving you alone. Anyway I’m late so if you don’t mind, I’m heading over. Just remember to log off.”
“Will do.”
YF turned around and walked toward Kanezaki’s truck, which was located at the far end of the fence from the gate — and parked away from the other trucks. He could tell the sun was rising over the horizon as he made his way down the dirt path. Unlike the past few weeks that morning was cooler, the humidity almost like a warm embrace rather than the oppressive blanket it usually was.
When he reached the vehicle, YF pressed the button to open the cabin door and then grabbed the handlebar, pulling himself inside. He turned on the terminal and entered the override code, hovering his finger over the temp credential button. He was about to press it when he noticed there was a flashing notification from the security camera at the bottom right of the screen. YF moved his finger from the credential button over to the notification and pressed it. As he did, the camera maximized over the screen. The image was of the inside of the truck bed. YF narrowed his eyes. At first it seemed like a glitch in the camera, but against the dark metal he could make out what looked like a man’s leg twitching. YF’s heart pounded as he exited the cabin, jumping down to the ground and walking slowly over to the truck bed door. He mentally prepared himself to push the button as soon as he arrived, doing so, and tensing as the door slid up.
The unsettling thing was how little noise there was after the door opened. YF planted one foot onto the step and lifted himself, planting the other boot on the truck bed. There was a single, large crate shoved into the back of the bed, odd given that it should’ve been unloaded at the reactor. YF moved toward it, but then stopped when he heard what sounded like banging against metal. He took out his receiver and turned on the light, flashing it into the corner. From his angle YF could tell that the twitching body he had seen on the camera was now deceased, and that the deceased was the old man he had helped load those weeks ago.
In a flash, a dark shadow lurched from the side of the crate, blowing off a chunk of wood as it flew toward him. The world slowed for one second just as YF could make out a claw flying toward him, but as he went to block it his arm only made it halfway up before the claw grasped onto his wrist and dug in, pulling his arm down toward his torso. YF ducked as the second claw shot toward just where his face was a second ago. He ate a knee to the stomach which sent him flying into the bed wall so hard that the door slammed shut. The light from his receiver was instantly snuffed out. YF could feel a searing pain jab into his side as something seemed to penetrate his skin, hook onto his rib, and raise him up, tossing him to the other side of the truck. YF started slipping in and out of consciousness, gasping for breath as his eyes darted around the darkness in a fruitless attempt to locate his assaulter.
“A bit faster than I expected,” said a familiar voice. YF heard the sound of boots against metal which stopped after a few steps. He then felt the hot breath of a beast over his face. “You should have just boarded the shuttle, Kondo. Or better yet, learned your place and stayed in Itsugo. But don’t feel too bad. This day was going to come eventually. Just came a bit earlier than scheduled.” It was the voice of Miyamoto. “My employers did want to know what Minami was up to, sending you over here. So I will give you a chance to make your death quick. What is Minami up to? Then again, a master has no need to tell his dog why it should sit.”
YF’s thoughts flashed from Erika to the unborn baby, to Reina, Hiroyuki, and his mother. The expressions on all of their faces were ones of disappointment — that expression he had seen so many times he thought he had grown numb to it. But what Miyamoto said cracked something from within, as if only a thin wall was holding back a tsunami. YF could feel an intense heat burning in his arm as the feeling returned to it. He heard Miyamoto step back.
“Eat shit.”
Just as YF punched out and grabbed at the shadow of Miyamoto, a pillar of flame erupted in front of him, followed by a soul shattering, agonized scream. The flame was so strong that it jumped from Miyamoto onto the crate and the man in the corner, the light blinding YF and forcing his eyes shut. He let go of Miyamoto and recoiled, expecting to be burned himself. But when he grabbed at his collar, YF found that his skin and clothes were still cool. Seconds that seemed like hours later, YF opened his eyes to a squint. He was met with darkness as if he had kept his eyes shut. He groaned as he held his side, though the blood he was expecting to be there seemed to have dried up. As he tried to force himself into a sitting position, a light suddenly flooded the container, causing him to automatically raise his arm to his face. When he realized it was just his receiver, YF lowered his arm slowly to see that Miyamoto, the dead man, and the crate had vaporized into the air.