Disenchantment 33

*****

 

 

 

 

As the sun was about to set on the horizon, Malbourne was still confused as to why there were so few people around. Everywhere else in the city people swarmed, making him uncomfortable. There were still people walking along on occasion, but they never stayed and congregated, always moving on, as if unconsciously they knew that this was not a good place to be.

 

“He’s not going to show,” said Oren.

 

“Well, yes, it seems he has become a little unreliable.” Mark had not come, and now, with the death of that Chinese bitch, Oren didn’t have the four people he thought he needed.

 

“I know that we haven’t been seeing eye to eye recently, but I didn’t think he would let me down like this.”

 

“Money makes the world go round,” said Malbourne. “We can hire some more people. You’ve got enough money to go around. Why hope for loyalty, when cash can actually create it even better? Also, I’m thinking we hire some people more for security. It’s not really safe to be out, especially after dark.”

 

Malbourne was quite happy that Nicastro hadn’t joined them. The guy was becoming increasingly erratic, and loosening his mild control over Phileus, always undermining his influence over his client. With Mark out of the way, Oren was becoming easier to maniplulate. If you found a man in a precarious position, and then presented yourself as an ally, you can get a lot out of him. Phileus wasn’t always so easy to control, but with his emotions rubbed raw due to his missing wife, he was like putty in Malbourne’s hands.

 

This was their third night out there. Nicastro had seemed a little drunk and pissy on the first night, drinking the whole night until his words started slurring and he was mostly just disagreeing with Malbourne on every occasion. He was then shitfaced on the second, falling asleep in the dirt, like some vagabond, until Oren had put him in his car. The man had not even shown up this night. Maybe he would still, but he was not reliable. Oren was insistent on everyone arriving while the sun was still out, and Nicastro had failed to do so.

 

Benson, the weird, fat, little man was there, because Malbourne had told him to be. Malbourne had also told him to stay in the car, unless called out. He had told Oren that the man preferred the air conditioning, and left the engine running for him, but that was a ruse to keep the man from talking to others, even though there seemed that there would only be one other this time.

 

How much more money could he get out of Phileus? Definitely more than a little bit. “I’ll get ahold of some people. Maybe five or so?”

 

“Five seems like a bit much,” replied Oren.

 

“You know, it’s not just for our journey into...wherever. We might need them as security, for our protection against other people. It’s not exactly safe out here anymore, at the edge of and end of the world. In addition, if the gates of hell do open up for you, it wouldn’t hurt to have some fighters, right?”

 

“Yes, actually, that’s not such a bad idea.”

 

“These guys won’t come cheap, but I’ll get you a good deal.” In fact, Malbourne did intend to hire them as cheaply as possible, then pocket the remainder, like presenting beer as champagne to an ignorant fool.

 

“Yes, we can use them now, like yesterday actually.”

 

“I’ll get on the phone, but that might be a tall order for tonight.”

 

“It needs to be tonight. We only have three people and we need at least four. It has to be tonight!”

 

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Excuse me.” Malbourne then opened his car door and got inside next to Benson, the other man visibly upset that Malbourne was near him.

 

“Go outside, keep the conversation light between you and Phileus.”

 

“All right,” said Benson. The little man was clearly afraid of him and that pleased Malbourne to no end.

 

Malbourne watched Benson as he uncomfortably got out of the car, glancing back at him, not sure where to stand or what to do. Good.

 

There were two security companies in Santa Clarita that Malbourne was aware of. The first and biggest had been a part of the community for decades. They were also the cheapest. Unfortunately, that came with some problems. They had virtually no on-the-job training, to keep costs down. Only those with guard cards had any idea what they were doing, and Malbourne suspected they didn’t all have guard cards. The personnel was eighteen-year-old kids who needed some extra cash and didn’t really give a shit about the job, retired people who wanted a little extra money or maybe just something to do with their time, and then the die-hards who had been rejected by various forms of law enforcement and had a strong inclinations that they were real cops. The latter group was okay, and might fool Phileus to an extent, but they were all unarmed, insurance being too much for armed security for the owner to pay. In addition, all their uniforms were mismatched and ill-fitting.

 

The second company did have armed guards. They also had a reputation for being much more professional. Still they had uniforms, and even if they presented themselves with an air of expertise and competence, Malbourne didn’t like the uniforms that made them look like what they were: rent-a-cops. He wanted something sleeker, like secret-service types with crisp suits, or something more intimidating like mercenary types, people wearing camo with visible rifles. Those things both might make Oren feel that he paid much more for the guards, in turn allowing Malbourne much more for himself.

 

Malbourne dialed the number on his cell phone. After the woman on the other end answered professionally, he requested to speak to the owner.

 

After being on hold for a few seconds, the owner answered. “This is George, what can I do for you?”

 

“Hello, Mr. Wyatts, I’m Blake Leonard Malbourne, esquire.”

 

“You training to be a knight?”

 

“No sir, I’m an attorney.”

 

“Yeah, no shit, what can I do for you, attorney?”

 

“I was wondering if your people could wear suits or maybe military-style uniforms.”

 

“You thinking about throwing a costume party, attorney? That will be pretty expensive hiring security for that. You want me to have them wear togas? How about Stormtrooper outfits?”

 

Malbourne was rarely ever treated with anything but respect, and he was seething with anger. Usually, he had his secretary deal with the mundane stuff, but Linda had not shown up for work recently, and hadn’t been answering her phone. “Look, I assure you I can pay you, and pay you well for any extra expenses.”

 

“Maybe I can have them dress up like belly dancers?”

 

“This isn’t a joke, sir.”

 

“Look, attorney—“

 

“The name is Malbourne.”

 

“Look attorney, I don’t know if you noticed it, but we’re pretty damn busy. If the world is ever back to normal, we might consider dressing up my guys like ballerinas for you, but we are booked solid. The police even asked us to help out, but they were outbid by other businesses. Ten percent of my men quit, but that’s better than the police are doing. I heard they lost fifty percent. Nothing like a crisis to show the world how well your business model works, right?”

 

“I might be able to outbid the others.”

 

“Not a chance. Why don’t you try the competition? Half their guys are still in diapers, so you wouldn’t even have to pay for costumes. Bronze Falcon? What kind of a name is that? Their name even implies they are third place material, which is hilarious if you only have one form of competition. It’s like they’re waiting for another company to come in so that they can finally take third.”

 

Malbourne took a deep breath, the amount of disrespect he was receiving was something that he was not used to. He had to keep his composure, to look professional in front of Phileus, but he made a mental note to take down this guy and his company at a later date. “Very well, Mr. Wyatts.”

 

“By the way, I hate lawyers.” The man on the other end unceremoniously ended the call.

 

Malbourne didn’t have long to be angry at the man on the phone. As he looked out the window, he noticed Phileus and Benson talking to two men, who appeared to be homeless. He quickly got out of the car and walked toward them.

 

“Hablo Ingles?” asked Phileus of the men.

 

One of the men, seemingly the older of the two, replied: “Si.”

 

“Okay, si is yes, right? If you speak Ingles, why didn’t you say, yes?” asked Phileus.

 

The man smiled and nodded, and replied, “Si.”

 

“Hey, I speak a little Spanish.” volunteered Benson. “You told him that you speak English, except you phrased it as a question with the tone of your voice. He’s agreeing that you speak English.”

 

“Oh, okay, ask him if he wants to make some money.”

 

While Benson turned back to speak with the men, Malbourne approached them and spoke to Phileus. “Look, we don’t know them. They certainly won’t provide any security. They’re probably illegal criminals.”

 

“You have security coming right this minute?” asked Oren.

 

“No,” said Malbourne. We can probably get some for tomorrow night, but I’ll have to check San Fernando and other areas.” He knew it was unlikely that he would be able to get anything resembling real security at all. If they wanted to hire illegals, he could do that, but he didn’t like it being completely out of his control, and he didn’t like not being able to skim a little for himself.

 

“We at least need people for tonight. I don’t care at all if they’re illegal. I don’t even care if they’re criminals.”

 

Benson turned back to Phileus and said, “They’re afraid you want them to do something sexual.”

 

“No, no, no. I just want them to hang out here with us. Maybe go for a walk later if... you know.”

 

Benson continued talking to the men for a little over a minute, and then turned back to Phileus. “They want a hundred bucks each.”

 

“No problem.”

 

“They want it upfront, right now.”

 

Phileus took out his wallet and started counting his money. “Shit, I only have maybe a hundred and forty in cash. Ask them if we can get them the other sixty tomorrow.”

 

After again speaking to the men for a few moments, Benson said, “I tried, but they want it all up front right now.”

 

“Blake, do you have sixty bucks on you?”

 

“I’m sorry Oren, but I’m not carrying any cash on me at all as I rarely use it.” Blake knew that he probably had the money, but he didn’t even attempt to make a show of looking in his wallet. Good, things were back in his control. He could come up with something for the next night.

 

“Damn, how about you Floyd?”

 

Malbourne locked eyes with Benson, and shook his head.

 

Benson took out his wallet and rummaged through it. “Yeah, look at that, exactly sixty dollars.” Benson didn’t make eye contact with Malbourne after that, pretending he hadn’t seen the subtle gesture, but Malbourne knew that he had.

 

“That’s awesome, thanks so much, man. I’ll get you back tomorrow.” Phileus took Benson’s money and put it with his own. He then began counting it out loudly and giving it to the Latino men. They were presumably Mexican, but who knew? Malbourne didn’t care enough to enquire about their heritage.

 

Malbourne was not pleased at all with the rebellious behavior of Benson. The man knew too much. If he couldn’t be controlled, he had to be eliminated.

 

Benson spoke with the men at length as they all watched the sun finish setting. Malbourne assumed that he was filling them in on the circumstances and wondered exactly how much he was telling them. He had to tell them something, as it’s very unusual to pay strangers to sit with you overnight on the side of the road during an apocalyptic event.

 

After a time, Benson said, “They don’t like this place. They say that it’s creepy and weird.”

 

“Yep. Yes it is,” said Phileus.