A Hero's End by Sutherland Staatz (free e books to read online TXT) 📖

Harry Harnbrook harvested rotten looks for a living. Every single time someone came in to fill up their cars, they would glare at him like he was the one responsible for this bad joke, perpetrated at nearly everyone’s expense. The joke built on itself, too. Every day Harry felt the urge grow, the urge to just throw back his head and laugh and laugh and laugh about it. But Harry had not completely lost his mind yet. He made an attempt at understanding the joke to hold off the laughter, if just for a little while longer.

History books were piled on Harry’s cot, which took up most of the space that consisted of his living quarters, behind the station’s counter. At this particular moment Harry was staring at them with contempt. None of them had a satisfactory answer to the misery that was spawned by an inefficient transportation, living and energy system.

Harry’s sulking was interrupted by a light that went off on the security console, right above his cot. He checked the security cameras on the back wall of his tiny living space where he spent almost all of his time now. Harry didn’t think that it was safe for an employee to leave the gas station compound unless you were in a tanker convoy. The cameras revealed a detonated mine, or rather a crater, in the field behind the gas station. It was probably just an unfortunate rabbit, Harry thought. He leaned his butt against the counter facing away from the front of the store, where the former station keeper used to look out thorough a thin layer of fragile glass.

Harry looked up at the set of monitors covering the front of the store, cars lining up already. The road snaked around a little before it got to the interstate, and the line of cars had already backed up that far. Harry thought that they might dock his pay if he opened up a second early, so he stared at the clock with one hand on the button. As soon as the LEDs on the clock arranged themselves into a six and two zeros Harry hit the button. The first car in line only had a few seconds to pass through the gate before it slammed shut. Harry thought that the gate’s timing was intended to ensure that just one car at a time got through. He also thought that the people who designed the thing thought that it would be funny to make the customer use up just a little more gas by forcing them to accelerate too quickly. Probably both; things could get bad quick if too many people gathered around a pump now. Harry watched as the first customer walked up to the store’s door. Harry patiently waited as the customer stepped in between the metal detectors. As usual they went off. Henry reached under the counter and hit the switch for the intercom.

“Sir, please step away from the metal detector, remove any metallic objects, and then step back into the metal detector.”

The man backed up and took off his belt buckle and shoes. He put his key chain and can of mace in a tray and then took off his holster, combat knife, and rifle and placed them all in a separate weapons container. This man was only slightly more paranoid than most. He walked into the metal detector again and it didn’t go off this time. Harry placidly pressed the button and the man hurried in before the riot door slammed down after him. The man was apparently not interested in any of the items that the store stocked and went straight to Harry’s counter, fixed Harry with a loathing gaze that he knew all to well, and slid a fat stack of bills through the small half-circle that was cut in Harry's glass.

Harry counted the money. “Ten gallons then?” Harry asked, wishing they had not done away with the pay stations, but glad that the bullet proof glass served as a spit guard too.

Harry looked up and addressed the man as the bills were rapidly flipping through the cash-counter. “Will that be all?” Harry wasn’t really expecting that the man would want the stale Twinkies on the other side of his barricaded area, but liked to ask.

“No,” the man looked down at Harry’s name tag,

“That’ll be all today Harry... hay you’re that Harnbrook jackass that writes all those papers.”

“Oh, you’ve read them?”

“Hell no. I’ve heard enough about them though. Something about the revolution and collapse being everyone’s fault. Sounds like a lot of rubbish to me.”

“Well they did get published and one of them won an award...”

“It seems to me that people are just attracted to the oddity of a gas station attendant writing critical papers on the guys that he works for. Of course you say everyone else fucked up too so…”

“Well now, look here…”

“Forget it, I got to get to work and I’m not interested in talking to a guy that lives in a fish bowl.”

Harry fixed him with a nasty look; the man grunted, fixed him with an even nastier look then turned around and went out the riot door to fill his car. Harry watched on the camera as the customer speed out the exit gate.

The next car that came in through the gate took Harry by surprise. The car in question was an older model. It was the kind of car that wasn’t driven by the urban professionals that made of the entirety of the station’s clientele. Harry supposed that the poorer person driving the car had some very important business that warranted using gasoline. He shrugged his shoulders, one person’s cash is as good as another’s.

An older woman with short, mostly black hair exited the car and went up to the metal detector. Almost before she stepped into it Harry started his regular notice.

“Please step…” Harry stopped his intercom-statement mid-sentence when he didn’t hear the familiar beep from the metal detector.

Harry turned the possibilities over in his mind. Either the woman is the first unarmed person that I have encountered in several years or she wants to try something cute with a piece of glass or a sharpened stick. Maybe she hasn’t been to a gas station in a while and didn’t know about the six inches of clear, strong barrier separating me from my customers. Oh well, this could break up the day a little.

Harry buzzed the woman in, fully expecting her to rush towards the counter with a plastic butter knife and hit her head on the window as she tried to lunge for his neck. To his surprise she calmly walked towards the counter after the riot door shut behind her. Harry cursed himself for being so paranoid and got the loan paperwork out from the bottom drawer- someone driving a car like that wouldn’t have the cash on hand for gas, and the station stopped accepting credit cards when their fees started cutting too far into profits. When the older woman got to the counter she addressed him with an expression on her face that Harry barley remembered… was that what a smile used to look like? Harry attempted to address the woman in a like manner with out breaking into tears.

“Uh, hi how much were you thinking of… er I mean do you want a loan?” Harry said sliding the papers through the half-circle.

“No thank you,” said the woman “I’m set for gas.”

Harry couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. Set for gas?! He fell forward and laughed until he, just barely, got his laughter under control.

Harry straightened up, wiped a tear from his eye and addressed the woman, ”Well then, if you don’t need gas what could you possibly need?” Harry stopped and changed his tone as he noticed that her expression was a little more serious now. “Ms...”

“What, you don’t recognize me Mr. Harnbrook?” She asked as she leaned a little closer to the glass.

Harry could see her breath on the other side of the glass barrier. He looked at her for a moment, trying to remember past acquaintances, friends, even people from the news and history books… he thought she looked like… but no he thought that doesn’t make much sense… but there it was, a character from his history books.

She was a leader of a past revolution, or attempted revolution rather. It was after the price per gallon went through the roof and there were semi-organized riots all over the country. But, Harry thought, all the leaders were killed, and this woman had different… well I guess she changed hair and got some fancy contacts… Harry realized that he was staring at her, with a suddenly stupid expression.

“Vanessa Vila…” Harry stopped as he saw the woman put a finger up to her lips. Harry suddenly forgot about the protective barrier, the panic button under the desk, and the fact that the metal detector didn’t detect anything. He backed away from the counter with fear written across his face.

Vanessa, calmly and firmly held up a hand then said “Wait.”

“Wait?” Harry stopped and looked at her. He suddenly remembered that he was in an indestructible glass cube.

“I need to show you something, outside of your suffocating little cube. Your articles, I have read them and they are good but they need something… you need something. You need to get out and see the slums.” Vanessa looked directly at Harry.

“Oh I need to see the inner city do I? I've read about it all them, and it’s not like I don’t ever get out, I’ve seen the slums with my own two eyes.”

“You mean from an armored convoy truck going sixty miles an hour on the freeway?” Vanessa replied regarding him with a raised eyebrow.

“Been doing your research? On me or station managers in general? Because I can tell you that I get out more than the piece in the Times suggests most managers do.”

“Come on Harry, you’ve written papers on me. I’m thorough with my planning and research aren’t I?”

“Yea, thoroughly crazy. Look this is ridiculous; I could probably be hung just for talking to you. Why shouldn’t I hit the panic button and…”

“Because I know that you care about what’s happening and how it’s happening and I’m here to help you out the door.”

Harry was about to agree and give up his argument when another thought struck him. Harry looked Vanessa in her eyes and asked “How do I know you won’t simply kill me? You’ve lead mobs that have killed station managers before.”

Vanessa regarded Harry with a serious look. “That was a long time ago; it wasn’t quite the right way to go about things. Besides, I came through your metal detector with nothing and you’re at least twenty years younger than I am. I came to get you out of here. Not kill you.”

Harry regarded her for a moment more and thought how nice it was to see a face with a smile on it. He decided that he wouldn’t mind harvesting something else besides nasty looks.

“Okay, it does sound like you might have mellowed over the years.”

“I suppose I have a little. You want to get going?”

“Yeah. I like your hair by the