Willie reached into the bottom drawer and liberated a nearly empty bottle of Gin along with a small plastic bag of white powder, and set them both down on the polished surface. He withdrew a small length of straw from a silver holder on the desk, which had been used to hold pencils and pens before Willie had taken over the office, and poured a large quantity of the powder directly onto the polished surface. He shoved the straw into one nostril, pinched off the other and inhaled deeply. Sucking the powder off the surface of the desk and up his nose. He repeated the procedure for the other nostril and then leaned back into the chair, spun the cap off the bottle and took a deep drink. Thin lines of blood trickled out both sides of his abused nasal passage, and he absently swiped at it, staining the sleeves of the white shirt, as he drank again from the bottle.
No doubts now, he knew. No doubts whatsoever. Even yesterday he had been solidly convinced, despite the evidence to the contrary, that he was on the right side. Not now and now was just a little fuckin' late to find that out. Bullshit! He told himself. You knew from jump what was up. True, true. There could be no other answer. When he felt he had himself under control, he stood and walked back into the small bathroom.
He absently stripped off the shirt, and washed his face and hands once more. Then he walked to a small built in closet, fished out a clean white shirt, shrugged into it, and buttoned it up. Ten minutes later he was back out in the large Operations Room with a group of ten men surrounding him. He had not given any of them a choice about going, but had instead simply stated that they were going, and he didn't want to hear any shit about it either.
He had received none at all. Instead they had all quickly nodded and followed him towards the ventilation shaft when he had turned and left. Once inside, they had cut through to the main shaft with a portable set of torches, and then again, once they had reached the small plant that filtered the air coming into the underground city, they had cut through the main shaft that tilted up towards the surface.
By noon they were outside, after cutting through a steel grating which had been the last remaining obstacle. They had followed one of the lower passages out of the long network of air-shafts and had emerged less than a quarter mile from Watertown. They were completely surrounded by water, but in front of them a sleek gray speed-boat was tethered to an iron pipe that jutted out from the grating that had covered the air shaft.
A few short minutes later they were drifting slowly around the tops of the buildings, which were all that remained of the downtown section of Watertown, and approaching a small hill that was still above water. Willie throttled the speed back, and drifted into a grassy, vine covered bank. One of the men in front tied off the boat, although Willie had been tempted to just let it drift, and they stepped off onto the ground.
Two hours later they were driving slowly down Route 3 after liberating three Ford Broncos from a dealership on the outskirts of Watertown.
The vines covered everything in sight and it was hard to follow the roadway in front of them as it was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding greenery.
It was more jungle-like, Willie decided, than anything else. The only thing that pointed the way was the road itself, which, although vine covered, remained somewhat flat. The trees or at least, Willie thought, what had been trees that lined the road, were completely covered with the vines. The result was a long vine covered corridor angling away from them.
The corridor was the only place the late afternoon sunlight shone through to the ground. The vines that covered the trees were much too thick for it to peek through.
Willie stared out at the passing vines from the passenger side of the lead truck. He had assigned the driving duties to someone else; he didn't trust himself to drive. A full bottle of gin was tucked between his legs resting against the crotch of the jeans he wore, and he sipped from it occasionally as they moved slowly along the road, as if it were water. He had not eaten since he had lost the remains of his breakfast back in the small bathroom, and felt no need to. In fact he didn't ever want to eat again, he realized. In fact, he told himself, I wouldn't give a fuck if I never breathed again. If the ol' frigging lungs just quit right now.
He didn't think they would though. In fact he was positive they wouldn't. No sir, he had bought into something he didn't understand at all, but he did understand he wouldn't be able to buy his way out, and his body would keep right on working no matter what he tried to do to it. He took another long pull from the bottle, then returned it to its former resting place as he stared out at the jungle-like greenery that surrounded them. The driver looked over at him as a deep sigh escaped his lips.
“‘Kay?" the driver muttered.
"Don't fuckin' worry about me," Willie said, "just pay attention to the road, ol' buddy."
The young driver quickly turned his attention back to the road. It wasn't smart, he knew, to ask Willie much of anything. Especially when he wasn't quite tanked, the way he was now, and even more especially after he'd been in to see Luther. He was glad he didn't
