Walker was freaking out. His palms were sweaty, his arms heavy, and his knees weak. Though, there wasn’t much emoting occurring. It’s difficult to freak out in a library. The books don’t judge you, but the introverts sneaking around the shelves do. Did he screw things up with her? Maybe he was overacting. He needed a second opinion.
He wiped his hands on his shorts. They remained moist. Walker pulled out his phone. Sonya? She’s a girl. No, that’s weird. He stared at his contacts, other than his brother, or God help him, his father, all he could ask was Chet. He has some nice face genetics, and muscles to boot, girls probably find him handsome.
He scratched his head. Or do they? Walker was not very good at determining what made a man attractive.
He punched the green call button and waited. Two rings passed before the thought of whether Chet would even want to help him after what he said to him in that bathroom. Walker had to admit, he didn’t know if he would help someone that admitted they wished he were more hurt.
On the fifth ring, one ring before Walker was going to voluntarily hang up, Chet picked up.
‘Yellow?’
“Chet. We have an emergency,” Walker said.
Chet cough-laughed into the phone, ‘Ha, join the club. What’s up.’
“There’s this girl right-”
‘Hol’ up, wait. Girl?’ Chet interrupted.
Walker frowned, “Yeah, girl.”
‘I thought you were gay bro.’
Walker looked around the library in disbelief, “Gay? Like with men?”
‘No, women-’ Someone said something in the background. Walker could hear faint beeping. Chet continued ‘Ah, I’m too tired for this. Okay, a girl. Did you scare her off?’
“Yeah, how did you-”
‘You give that vibe,’ Chet explained.
Walker sat down, “I do not give off a women-scaring vibe.’
‘I’m not the one who had some girl run away from them,’ Chet countered.
Walker sighed, “Fine. I need a second opinion. Usually, I’d solve this myself, but I don’t know. She’s something special you know?”
Chet didn’t reply for a couple of seconds, when he did his voice was softer, ‘I don’t know.’
“Anyway, can you help me?”
‘Depends, do you want to apologize for what you said to me?’
Walker bit his tongue, “That would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it.”
'I think so. I have feelings too man.’
Walker apologized.
‘Alright, come tell me in person. I’m at Jack Yttri Memorial.’
Walker was puzzled, “The hospital?”
'Yup, and you know that tablet you found in that mushroom dog? I found another one.’ Chet paused, and Walker could swear he could see the shit-eating grin on his face, ‘I got you beat though. This one was balls deep in the chest of a thirty-foot tall, armored rat.’
Walker stuffed his school stuff in his backpack, “My dick is so hard right now.”
‘Good.’
“Okay, wait there, I’m coming.”
‘Not going anywhere.’
Walker sprinted to the elevator and hit the button. After waiting no more than five seconds, he rocketed himself down the stairs, and into the lobby. He said goodbye to Jane at the front desk before he jumped the turnstile. Jane did not protest. Since he didn’t have a car, he resorted to running instead. One sweaty hour later, he found himself panting in front of Chet’s door. A girl in maroon scrubs beside him stared at him. Walker said hello then stepped inside.
It was a two-bedded room, one closer to the door than the other, each headboard was on the right wall. A television was mounted on the crest of the ceiling opposite the two beds. It played the news. A green curtain would have separated them if it had been drawn. It occurred to Walker that if the curtains were drawn, neither bed would be able to view the entire screen.
Chet rested in the bed closest to the door. The gauze that wrapped around his head made him look like a lightbulb. Beside the bed in a chair sat a man in a bullet-proof vest flipping through papers in a binder. He had bronze skin and dark curly hair. A ghost of a five o’clock shadow dusted his face.
In the other bed rested a dilapidated old man. Only his head and feet stuck out from under the covers. His feet were dry and cracked. Yellow skin peeled off the toes. The head wasn’t much better. Handcuffs hung from the foot of the bed. A rotund correctional officer with a multi-compartmented vest dozed in the corner.
Chet waved, “Hullo.”
Walker leaned in closer, “Your head looks like an overinflated basketball.”
The old man in the other bed chortled. It sounded disgusting.
The man beside Chet spoke up, “That’s because he has brain damage.”
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“What he said.”
The man stood up and shook Walker’s hand, it was surprisingly powerful, “Miguel.”
Walker glanced at Chet, “I mean, he’s a little weird but…little mean, man.”
Miguel made a ‘you serious?’ face, “Somehow I’m not surprised you’re his friend. He has a concussion. Probably the second based on the magnetic resonance imaging photos.”
“The mutant rat did this to you I’m guessing,” Walker said.
Chet shrugged.
Miguel glared at Chet, “And if it keeps happening-”
Chet’s eyes were drooping.
Miguel. paused to kick his chair. The clatter made the old man in the other bed moan. The officer woke up.
“And... If you keep receiving trauma to the brain. You’re going to end up not being able to hold a cup of water without wetting your pants.”
Chet waved him off, “Pfft, you know how many times I’ve been hit in the head. Countless times.” He gestured to his body, “And look at me, sharp as a pack.”
Walker coughed, “Tack.”
“What did I say?” Chet said.
Miguel dropped himself back in the chair and rubbed his temples.
Chet’s nose twitched, “If you care so much, why are you a bounty hunter? You know how my brother operates. You knew I was bait, and you did nothing.”
Walker pulled a chair over to the foot of the bed, “You were bait for a giant rat? Sweet.”
“No, not sweet. Dangerous.” Miguel slapped the bed handle, “Also, I do this if situations exactly like this. Or in the case of Gary as a leader, when. If I didn’t tend to you in that warehouse, you probably wouldn’t have woken up the same way.”
Chet did not make eye contact.
“You still don’t understand,” Miguel made an oval with his hands, “Think of your brain health like a bucket of water, every time you eat a good shot, that’s a drop out the bucket. The only catch is nobody knows how big their bucket is.”
Chet winced at the buzzing light above the bed.
“I’ll keep it in mind, Miguel.”
Miguel sighed, “I hope so, I don’t want to see another kid turn into a vegetable.” He slapped his knees and stood up, “Alright, I’m leaving.” Miguel slapped Walker’s shoulder “Have fun,” and left.
“Smart guy.” Walker commented, “Can’t believe you hit your head again. How are you doing.”
Chet squinted at him, “Downright ebullient. Now cut the chit-chat. Ready for the story?”
Walker closed his eyes, “You know I am.”
For the next twenty minutes, Chet told the story. He utilized intricate details that seemed so extravagant that Walker had half a mind to call his embellishments bullshit. Halfway through the story, when the giant rat camouflaged as pipes emerged, the corrections officer sitting in the corner of the hospital room pulled over a chair and asked if he could listen to the rest.
Martin, the correctional officer shook his head, “A machine gun? In the middle of a city? Back in my day that would land you in a cell under my supervision.”
Chet shrugged, “PIP doesn’t care unless you hurt a civilian, wreck the city, or don’t get the job done.”
Walker interjected, “Yeah, how does that work? The government hires a bunch of people to go out in the city to hunt shit? I’m surprised more buildings aren’t looking like Swiss cheese.”
Martin raised his hand, “I can actually answer that. See this? Standard issue firearm.” He pointed to the front of his vest where a yellow gun was strapped in,” That? Taser. Here? Camera. Back when I just started working the blue patrol car, a government-funded experiment revived the mammoth. A real fuck you to God. Anyway, one of the scientists grew a soul and found the animal too cute to sit in a cage. He took it home. It escaped. Somehow, quietly, an open bounty was raised. Cloning technology was big back then. A bunch of twenty-something years old got a hold of some semi-automatics.” Martin rubbed his cue-ball head, “They cornered an escaped recently cloned mammoth at the mall. Turns out, the mammoth didn’t like that too much and charged the leader. Every single one of those bullets that ripped through those paper-thin walls, or ricocheted, or just straight up missed that mammoth either destroyed a part of the mall or someone’s family.”
“That’s bonkers,” Chet commented.
“Yes sir. Blood bath that day. Over twenty people were placed in the ICU, dozens more injured, and you know what the government did?”
“Educated the masses?” Walker said sarcastically.
Martin did not get the sarcasm, “Exactly.” He waved his hands in the air, “The Population Improvement Program. They knew that outright banning private vigilantism wouldn’t work. So, they capitalized them out, made bounties completely legal, and profitable." Martin winked, “As long as it’s through their program of course.”
“What happened to them?” Walker asked.
“What, the group of twenty-year-olds?” Martin asked.
Chet leaned in, “Yeah, I want to hear this too.”
Martin shoulder’s sagged, “Turns out, a lot of people lost part of their family that day. One of those people was a father. He lost his daughter that day.” Martin clenched his jar, “Turns out, grief will make you do a lot of things you wouldn’t think you’d do.”
The old man behind them screamed for crackers.
“Damn, that’s crazy. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Chet asked.
“No one cares what happens to trash when the garbageman takes it away.”
The old man screeched.
Martin sighed, “I got to deal with this.” He left the two of them to deal with the irate inmate.
“Mmmm,” Chet stretched lazily, “Anyway, check this out, Walker grab my bag.”
He did so, and Chet pulled out the metal tablet and handed it to Walker, “Don’t worry. Miguel assured me it was thoroughly sanitized. Whatever that means. I think he just used soap and water. He’s too serious.”
Walker rummaged through his bag and pulled out the tablet that he ripped out of the mushroom dogs. They were identical. Well, almost identical. While the one Walker had was engraved with E.W-1349, the one Chet had was E.W-1766.
“Any ideas?” Chet asked.
“Well…” Walker raised them to the light, “One of the numbers is larger than the other.”
Chet pursed his lips at Walker.
“Hey, I’m working on it.”
“Could be kidney stones,” Chet stated.
“With numbers and letters and in the shape of a chocolate bar?” Walker retorted.
Chet shrugged, “Coincidence? I don’t know, I’m concussed.”
The elderly man’s racket ramped up; he slapped the plastic bed frame. Something on his wrist clinked against the bed.
Walker’s jaw dropped, “Is that…”
“What are the odds,” Chet muttered.
Walker approached Martin who wrestled the man’s wrists into handcuffs.
“Don’t worry about me, Mr. Walker. Trained for this, he won’t bother you much longer,” Martin informed.
“What’s that on his wrist? The tablet?” Walker asked.
Hanging from the inmate was a bracelet. Attached to the bracelet was the same tablet that was sewn into the bodies of mutated animals.
Martin finally handcuffed the other arm of the inmate to the bedframe. Perhaps the knowledge that further fussing would cause less freedom caused the inmate to cease his consternation.
“There, be quiet.” Martin picked up the tablet, “These? Government standard issue tag.”
Walker pointed at the characters, “And that?”
“Identification, RHP-813. RHP, Rock Hill Penitentiary. Eight-one-three. That’s his unique identifier.” Martin dropped the tablet and eyed him suspiciously, “What’s with the curiosity? Killed the cat you know.”
Walker tried to look casual. Something about the tablets made him uncomfortable, “That’s just it, curious.”
Saved by the bell, the inmate cackled and slammed the bed again with his toes, the call light turned on and began to beep.
Walker took the chance to slink away from the commotion as the patient care assistants slipped by him. Chet held up two thumbs up. Walker pulled the chair close and handed him the tablets, “I think we’re on to something.”
Chet smiled. However, this wasn’t his lazy smile, nor his smug smirk. It was a serious, contemplative smile.
“Good. Let’s talk about it. Then, I’ll help you with your girl problems lady-killer.”