Return of the Titans

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

We weren't going to visit the meat plant, per se.

There wasn't anything there for us. I highly doubted that Lion took a break from murdering people to munch on frozen porkchops. However, there was a connection between the plant and Marshall, that being it was close to where he lived.

Vandenburg Village was a very prestigious place. If you lived in the Hills, then part of its golf course was already in your backyard. Over twenty acres of greenery thrived in the middle of a doughnut-shaped housing development, where the mountains touched the sky in the distance. If you had a good, thick wad of cash in your back pocket, and enjoyed wearing khaki shorts while sipping your martini, then congrats! You're not only a rich asshole, but you're welcome at the club.

I've only visited once, and that was because Marshall invited me. His parents lived there for as long as he could remember, and if you let him tell it, that was how they met. I was reluctant, of course. What made me think that I belonged to a group of people who sneezed money?

Long story short, I didn't stay long. I hung out with Marshall enough to check out his pool and drink a few smoothies -- which were amazing, by the way. After that, I just felt too restless, and when he went off to get me another smoothie, I bolted. The next time I saw him, I made up an elaborate story about how George Washington needed to be tended to, and if I didn't do it at a certain time, he would get a rash or something.

Marshall played it off, but he made me swear that the next time I was in town, I had to visit him again.

"You gotta finish that smoothie," he had stressed.

For the most part, I've kept my distance. Being an orphan pretty much takes up all of your time, you know. But because of certain events, I've been forced to play my hand.

When we came to Harris Grade Road, I called us a taxi, because we were not going to walk the twenty and a half miles it took to get to Marshall's place. Not only that, but we were officially on the base. My ID was in my jacket, and Doc didn't slip a new one into my backpack. The patrolmen were more lenient with transportation that was their own, so I had bought us some time before I had to come up with another plan.

The putrid fumes from the plant wafted down past its parking lot and onto the street corner. Benjamin, with his enhanced smell, looked like he might puke at any moment. Jay rubbed his friend's shoulder, assuring him that everything was okay, even though his own face was a little green.

Meanwhile, I stood at the corner, watching stray cars roll by with George at my feet. Breathing in that sweet, crisp mountain air hit the spot for someone who, a day ago, had her lungs fried to a crisp. But man, did it help in clearing my mind.

I was going to need as much clarity as I could get. Like I said, it had been some time since I last saw Marshall, and vice versa. He thought that he was best friends with a girl that had a rare disease, where she had antlers growing out of her head. Now, he was going to find out who I really was, and same with my entourage.

I almost choked. I had completely forgotten that he was going to meet Jay, Maria, and Ben, and all of their magical glory. How in the world was I going to explain that? "Pardon his hooves, it's a condition"?

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see Maria standing there. By her knit eyebrows, I could tell that she wasn't pleased. How was that a shock?

"Can I help you?" I asked her.

"There're too many smells here." She nodded to Benjamin, who was both pinching the bridge of his nose and clutching his round stomach. "We're running the risk of him losing the trail. We've got to go now."