Chapter 02

It really sucked that he wasn’t dead.

Freyja couldn’t help but think that.

Over and over.

It had become an earworm, infecting her mind since her brother had called to let her know their father was in the hospital. She had done a little dance in her car at the news.

“So, now what, Gee?” Freyja asked after he had taken her to the hospital room.

“He’s in a coma.”

“I can see that, what do we do? I just lost my apartment and my job. You’re not expecting me to help pay for his shit, right? I haven’t even had a chance to sign up for basic income yet.”

Gunner shook his head. “Of course not but we’re his only next of kin. It’s up to us to deal with this.”

“I’m not gonna like where this is going, am I?”

“I can pay you,” he replied quickly.

“Not to wash his ass or something, I hope.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then what?”

“To keep an eye on his house. You can follow me there. I’ll give you some money for expenses. I’ve already set up some things.”

She really didn’t want to stay at their father’s house.

“It...the same place as when we were kids?”

Gunner silently nodded.

“I remember how to get there, but I’ll follow you.”

The city had changed a lot since they were kids, especially their old neighborhood. Most of the houses she remembered were gone, replaced by larger homes that ate up space that used to belong to lush yards. Their father’s house, however hadn’t been rebuilt.

As a result, it looked like shit.

She was glad they still had some sunlight before they reached the place. She doubted she could have navigated as well at night, simply because everything seemed so alien.

Freyja parked behind Gunner’s car on the street. She followed him on the cracked sidewalk, that afforded the only semi-clear path through the jungle-like front yard, to the house. The wood of the front porch had rotted out, long enough ago for a couple small trees to grow through the holes. What little paint remained on the siding flaked off. Termite holes were visible. An overgrown vine that wove its way through the front windows seem to be holding half the house together. Gunner carefully retrieved the mail from a box that sat on the seat of a busted lawn chair perched on the two most solid boards of the porch.

“Let me guess, ‘It’s not as bad as it looks?’” Freyja asked.

He tucked the mail under his arm. “Hell no. It’s a deathtrap. Totally uninhabitable.”

“And you want me to stay here to keep an eye on it?”

“No, you don’t need to stay in the house, come on, follow me.”

Freyja let out a huff before following her older brother. He towered over her, just as he always had. She knew he hated that he had inherited that from their dad. Meanwhile, she didn’t seem to get anything from the Old Man. She figured she took after their mother.

The back yard was smaller than the front. Overgrown, save for a couple dead paths of poorly laid gravel that ran to the large metal building with a garage door that took up what she remembered being a large open space. It didn’t look brand new, but seemed to be in much better condition than the house itself. When they reached the door she realized the gravel path branched off toward the house’s back door. It seemed more well traveled than the path they had taken.

Freyja stayed quiet as Gunner fumbled for a key. He unlocked the building and flipped a light switch as he entered. She noted her brother hadn’t used the garage door, opting instead for the regular one. She wondered if there had been any boobytraps.

“I already disarmed all the traps I could find in here. Can’t promise there aren’t any in the house itself.”

“Or more in here you missed,” she said. “What sort of boobytraps were they?” She asked.

“A few malicious nails, a couple mini crossbows with darts. Most of those had bow strings made of old rubber bands that had hardened or cracked. Not sure if the darts on them were dipped in anything or not but I threw them away in a cardboard box, just in case,” Gunner explained.

The building was big, and full of an assortment of gun safes laid out in rows. High up she spotted a chain gun next to a fifty caliber rifle, both covered in dust, hanging from the ceiling. A work table with reloading equipment and various tools lined part of one wall. Next to it sat something big covered in a black tarp. The space felt like a really big, really shitty, gun store.

A really big shitty gun store that also had an inflatable mattress, mini fridge with freezer compartment, microwave, and small electric cook top staged near a folding table next to the closed garage door.

“This shit is too clean and new for him to have been using it. This is where you expect me to sleep, ain’t it?”

Gunner nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“God damn it, Gee.”

He held up his hands. “I know, this sucks. But, this place has working AC and the house is unlivable. I’d do this part but I’ve gotta handle the power of attorney and medical stuff. Not to mention I can’t set foot in that house without needing a trip to the hospital myself.”

She glared at him. He knew what that meant.

“Yes, it’s a shit hole. Yes, I need you to clean it. But also, he had a cat. You know how allergic to them I am. I was always sick when he insisted on keeping a cat when we were kids.”

“You’ll pay me to stay here and clean it?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“However much you want. I’m gonna give you a thousand to start so you can buy some cleaning and safety supplies. Then we can work out more for the cleaning work and…” he trailed off, looking at the gun cases. “I’m also gonna need you to go through and catalog all the weapons. Not sure if he kept records or not, but you know this stuff better than I do.”

She pointed to the large tarped object. “That what I think it is?”

“Probably? I don’t know what half this shit is,” Gunner deflated.

“Come here,” Freyja said.

Gunner followed her without objection. She was quick about checking for hazards and traps. The tarp was an after market one, but fitted to cover it well. No razors had been added to it, or anything, which was good. Nothing was tied to it either. She took her time finding the buttons, unclasping them, and partially undressing the machine. How the hell the Old Man had managed to get one was beyond her. Maybe he had spent some of the money he should have raised his kids with on it?

“Holy shit,” Gunner breathed.

“This is an older model, but it’s still a JACE armored assault suit. Model COOP-306, I think,” Freyja said.

“Does it work?”

“How the hell should I know? I’d need to check it. Some of the plates seem off color. Could be a put-together job with after market parts. Basically, refurbished army surplus.”

“Cover it back up. We can deal with it later,” Gunner said.

She huffed before putting the tarp back together to hide the mech. With the legs folded she didn’t have to reach too high up. She found her older brother near the door to the building once she was done. He was thumbing through the mail with a scowl on his face.

“So…”

“So, will you do it?” He asked.

“How bad is the inside?” Freyja asked.

“Uninhabitable,” he said. “Maybe get a tetanus shot. Wear thick work gloves instead of just cleaning gloves, at least at first. It’s really bad.”

“And he had a cat?”

“Yeah.”

“In the house?”

He nodded. “I had to take my emergency allergy meds after I poked my head in the other day. He had the cat inside, for sure.”

“I don’t see why you didn’t just let his cat eat him after he dropped,” Freyja said.

“Because the mailman found him first,” Gunner replied without hesitation.

She nodded. “I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this because I need the money and a place to crash.”

“Absolutely. I’m not doing this for him either.”

“How does Damien feel about this? And Zoe?”

“Helping was Damien’s idea, and Zoe just thinks I’m on a business trip,” Gunner said, a hint of shame in his voice.

She knew he hated to lie, especially to family. It was why she was honest with him, no matter what.

Freyja clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Damien always did see the best in people.”

“It’s why I fell in love with him.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll clean up this shithole, catalog the guns. I take it you don’t have combos or keys for the safes?”

“We don’t, no.”

“Okay, I’ll open the ones I can, and the others you can just hire someone for. Anything else?”

Gunner took the keys from his pocket and handed them to his younger sister. “Don’t park in the drive way. I’ve rented a dumpster. Should be delivered tomorrow.”

“What time? Do I need to sign for it?”

“Lunch time, I think. And probably won’t need to be signed for.”

“I’ll be out then anyway getting supplies.”

Gunner opened his wallet and took out ten one hundred dollar bills. “Sounds good. Sorry I don’t have anything smaller than a hundred.”

“I’ll swing by the bank in the morning. What sort of food did you get for the fridge?”

“A few microwave dinners you used to like, and some sandwich supplies. I was worried about bugs so the bread is in there too.”

She took the money. “Thank you, Gee.” She gave him a hug. “You’re the best big brother in the world and with any luck, Dad won’t wake up.”

“Yeah.”

The sun had set while they were in the metal building, which she decided to internally call ‘the Armory.’ The light colored gravel made it slightly easier to navigate in the dim light as Freyja walked with her brother to their cars.

Before he could drive away she called to him, “Hey, what’s his cat look like?”

“I haven’t seen it. Neighbors said it’s an old gray tomcat with one eye named ‘Odin.’”

“Of course he’d name his cat ‘Odin.’ Piece of shit,” Freyja hissed. “Drive safe! Keep me updated!”

“Will do!” Gunner called before driving away.

She grabbed her travel backpack from her car then went back to the Armory. Most of her belongings were in a small storage unit on the other side of town. Which was good. There wasn’t any room for them here.

Maybe the Old Man will die and we can sell off this shit?