Somehow Sargent Murphee manages to convince all of them, including Valentine, to ditch Jaye’s Honda and Dr. Peters’ Jeep for Murphee’s armored transport truck. To everyone’s chagrin (mostly Valentine’s), there’s only two real seats in the vehicle. All other passengers have to sit the bed with the supplies. Sydney volunteers to sit in the back, which in turn makes Val volunteer to do so as well. The Sargent won’t have any of that however, and he insists that Sydney sit up front with him, so they can talk about ‘work’.
Scott throws a small temper tantrum about having to sit in the back, but after Henry gives him a stern look and points to the back of the truck, he goes to sit quietly. Val begrudgingly helps Maverick and the girls into the back of the truck, then has Beck pull him up into the bed. There are benches on either side of the bed for them to sit on – the middle area left open for their gear. Valentine sits across from Maverick and Scott, smiling at the boy. Scott scowls at them both and curls farther into himself.
“What’s your deal?”
“My deal is that I’ve been lugged around the country for five fucking years like a fucking science project,” he pauses and searches for some type of insult to Val’s appearance or attitude. “Douche-nozzel.” Is all he manages to spit out. Val just rolls his eyes and stretches out his legs to knock Scott in the shin.
“What’s so special about you?” Jaye asks, her soft voice soothing in the hostile environment.
Scott’s face begins to soften, then as he seems to think deeper, he scowls again and turns away from them all. “Like I fucking know? Sargent Shitface up there just plucked me up and outta Death’s arms and was like ‘OO-DEE-DOO let me just chain you up like a fucking animal and toss you around till I feel all fine and dandy about myself’!” Scott used a higher pitch to imitate Henry’s voice, but manages to raise the volume of his voice ten-fold by the time he ends his sentence.
Henry’s fist slams against the back of the cab and they can hear him yelled a muffled order to shut up. Scott childishly sticks his tongue out in the direction of the cab. Beck kicked Scott, hard, in the shin. “Clearly there’s something special about you dick wad. So spill.”
“I told you bitch I don’t. Fucking. Know.”
Beck lunged at him and although she was within range, Val didn’t really even to try to hold her back. Instead he motioned for Maverick to maneuver his way over to his and Jaye’s side of the truck.
Beck’s nails dug into Scott’s neck, her kneecap wedging into his thigh. Scott just leaned his head back, seemingly not afflicted by the pain. Although he did try to scoot back on the bench. Her nose just barely touches his as she snarls out the warning, “Respect me you piece of shit,” then spits on his jacket and moves to sit next to him. Clearly her exit isn’t as profound as she would’ve liked because Beck crosses her arms and kicks her feet up on Val’s lap.
Scott glares disgustedly at the glop of spit on his clothes and removes the jacket. “Respect you? Please, you’re nothing by prison trash.”
The truck comes to a streaking halt when the backdoors to the bed fly open. Henry in the front has to stick his arm out to stop Sydney from banging her head on the dashboard and Val in the back has to brace for the impact of two bodies slamming on top of him. There’s a decent amount of painful groaning that fills the otherwise eerie silence.
Then comes the screaming.
In the short time he had come to know the woman, Val had recognized Beck’s volatile and potentially life-threatening temper. She got angry in the quickest and most passionate of ways. And she definitely had a way of dealing with that anger physically.
A body flies out from the truck, just a few feet, but it’s still pretty impressive, and Beck jumps out after it.
Henry’s already out of the cab and armed, cocking his pistol as he rounds the vehicle.
“You stupid piece of – ugh!” Beck doesn’t have the excess mental capacity to form complete sentences, so instead she just goes in for the kill. Scott manages to crawl away from her for a few feet before she grabs his ankle and stomps on his thigh. He yelps and thrashes around to get her off of him.
The one-sided brawl doesn’t last very long before Henry fires a few shots into the air. Beck covers her ears as they ring, the pitch flocculating. She glares at the military man and contemplates fighting him before she puts her hands up in a surrender stance and takes a few steps back. Henry gives her a curt not and reaches down to help Scott up off the ground. “Jesus fuck! Crazy-stupid-psycho-prison-bitch tried to break my fucking leg!” He shrieks.
“Scott, quiet.” Henry chides, tossing one of Scott’s arms around his shoulder. He orders Beck to get in the back again and wait for him to come back.
Grudgingly, she does as she’s told.
Val sits on his side of the truck and gives her a shit-eating grin. “Clap, clap. Well done. Let’s partner up with them just so we can get kicked out. Very smart.”
“Shut your trap.”
“Well, chances are Henry would probably just kick her out.” Maverick said, shrinking in on himself when Beck turns to glare at him. “Sorry…he just seems like a sensible guy you know?” This time it’s Val who gives him an irritated look. “But, of course, not as sensible as you Val. Nor as sensitive. Clearly he’s an awful human being, I have no clue what Sydney sees in him, blah, blah. I’m getting tired, can I stop stroking your ego?”
Val hummed and rested his arm on Maverick’s head. “Time to stop growing kid, you’re almost too tall to be my arm rest.”
Unfortunately, he has to move Miss Sydney Peters to the back of the truck so he can put Scott Fuckall in the front seat. He apologizes to the lady and helps her into the back before jogging back to the front of the truck again to help Scott in. There was an unspoken scolding of Scott opening his mouth in the worst of ways as Henry slammed the truck door shut and jumped in the driver’s seat. He started the engine once again and shifted into gear. “Bitch started it,”
“Do you ever treat anyone but yourself with respect? I mean Jesus Christ; you have got to be the most insensitive human being left alive.”
“Whaddya mean? I respect you.” Scott mumbled. “I just don’t respect ex-con trash you know?” Henry slapped Scott hard in the chest. The latter let out a huff of breath and shoved the former’s arm away from him. “Fucker.” He said, coughing and curling towards the door. Henry hummed and ruffled Scott’s hair.
“Whatever you say fucker.” Scott tapped his teeth together at Henry, mimicking biting. The driver pressed a finger to Scott’s forehead and pushed him into the window. “Did you tell them anything? I could hear them making a fuss back there, but damn you speak so quietly I could barely make out that you were talking.”
Scott scoffed. “No, I didn’t say anything. Promise. The ‘Revolutionary Scientific Discovery’ is still,” he motioned to his shirt. “Under wraps.”
Henry nodded and focused his eyes solely on the road. “That’s good.” He said. “Very good.”
ns 15.158.61.5da2
