7 - Shep
W hen I got to the Mule Pit and found the door locked, I thought for sure I’d made the whole thing up. There’s no real evidence that this is a bar. That it was open. That there was a band playing. There’s a little trail in the dirt leading to the front, but it’s a tiny affirmation.
So when she called for me as I was walking away, it felt like something out of a dream. A good dream where the thing one has been obsessing about actually happens.
Obsession might be a little strong for how preoccupied I’ve been all week about this bar in the woods and the girl I found inside, but it feels like she’s been the only thing on my mind when I wasn’t thinking about work. Maybe I didn’t wake up thinking about her, but I did fall asleep each night with her in my head.
She’s pretty, but lots of women are pretty. This one though… I dunno. I can’t put my finger on it, but I like her. It’s that instant kind of attraction that doesn’t come along very often. At least, not reciprocated. I get that she’s a whore and it’s her job to show interest in me, but it felt like more than that.
Which is what all guys say when they fall for a whore. But anyway. This is different.
All this is just my excuse to take her up on the offer when she beckons me inside. There’s no possible way I say no. I go in, through both doors, but pause at the top of the steps, unsure what she’s got in mind.
“Follow me,” she says. “It’s this way.”
There’s a way around the stairs that I hadn’t noticed the first time I was here because it’s a half door to my left that matches the wooden walls, kind of making it disappear. I follow her through it and we travel the length of the large room below on a catwalk-like balcony that might be meant for lighting people, but nonetheless leads to the opposite end of the bar and a stairwell that goes down.
We descend and find ourselves in another hallway. The girl stops at a door and looks over her shoulder at me. “Be right back.”
I let out a breath after she disappears into the room, then lean against the wall with my hands in my pockets. It’s real. I didn’t make it up. Which is a relief, because if I had made it up… well, I don’t know what I’d do, but hallucinating a whole morning of traveling through the woods to a secret bar inside an abandoned coal mine would be a tragic escalation to my current problems.
Still, even if I didn’t imagine it, it’s all very weird.
The girl comes back holding up my credit card. “Here you go. And you can check. No one used it. I didn’t even charge you for the time we spent together.”
I sneer a little. “I paid cash. I gave you a fifty.”
“I know.” She reaches into her bra and pulls out a fifty-dollar bill. “But I’m givin’ it back.” She holds it up between two fingers, close enough for me to grab. But when I reach for it, she pulls it back. “Unless you’d like to spend it now.”
I scoff, even though I don’t really mean it.
“You did come all this way,” she coos. “And while I don’t know where you come from, I know for sure it’s not close. The Mule Pit isn’t exactly the corner bar.” She waits for me to answer, but when I don’t immediately come back at her, she keeps going. “You won’t even stay for a drink?” Then she offers me the fifty again. “Even if it’s on the house?”
“Well, I guess I could stay for a free drink.” She smiles at my response. “But I don’t wanna sit at the bar. I’d rather go back to that room we were in last time.” Her grin grows. “Keep the fifty. It’s a tip.”
Her eyes dance mischievously as she tucks the fifty into her bra. Then she flips her hair and turns towards the hallway. But while I was concentrating on her eyes, she was grabbing my hand, so I follow her.
We don’t end up in the room we had last time. It’s a much better one that has a bed. “You’re presumptuous,” I say, chuckling a little as I close the door behind me.
“Well, this room has a bar.” She pans a hand to it on the right side of the room. “Plus a couch. But if you’d like to start in the bed, I’m not complainin’.”
The problem with whores is that they’re paid to be nice to you. Not only that, they’re really good at it. Not that I’m an expert or anything—I’ve never even been with one—but they congregate around bases, knowing that guys like me are here one minute, gone the next. And just before we deploy, we’re all thinking the same thing. What if I don’t come back ? Wouldn’t it be nice to have the comfort of a woman before I die ?
Even if my urges never brought me to the edge of desperation like that, I understand the feeling.
Whores are trained to play off emotions. They’re trained to trick you into believing they give a fuck so you’ll open up to them. If not emotionally, then opening your wallet will do. So you can’t trust anything they say. Even if this girl was truly interested in me, it would take a lot of convincing for me to believe it.
Of course, as a whore, she knows this. Which means she knows just what to say next. “I thought about you this week.”
I don’t answer, because it’s bullshit. But she doesn’t wait for an answer anyway, just slips behind the bar and brings out a real bottle of whiskey, not moonshine.
She comes back over my way and points to the couch. “Let’s start here.” Then she sets the bottle down next to a little tray holding two shot glasses and makes herself comfortable in the corner cushions of the couch. She’s not wearing much, just a bra with lots of long fringe and some matching panties. So when she sits, the fringe parts in many ways, making her look more exposed.
Everything about whores is planned, I remind myself. She put this outfit on this morning for a reason, and that reason is to trick men into giving her more money than they should.
But I’ve already given her a fifty, so I figure there’s no harm in sticking around for a little show.
“Pour us a drink,” she says. “And relax a little.”
I eye the bottle, but don’t reach for it. I do, however, sit down. Not quite all the way over on the opposite side of her, but very nearly.
She chuckles. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No. I’m just trying to send all the right signals.”
“Well, you’re doing a horrible job, because I’m thoroughly confused. Do you not want a drink? You didn’t pour.”
“It’s like nine-thirty in the morning. No, I don’t want a drink.”
“So why did you come in here with me? I’m only asking because I’m starting to think you’re not here for sex, either.”
“I’m not.”
She scoffs. “So what do you want?”
I lean back into the cushions and sigh.
“Oh,” she says. “I get it. You’re one of those talkers.”
Which makes me actually laugh. “ No . I’m really not.” I glance at her now, with a side-eye. “I’m way more interested in listening.”
“Hmmm.” She’s studying me intently. “That’s interesting.”
“Why?”
“You want me to talk?” She points to herself.
I shrug. “Maybe I just like looking at you? Maybe I’m just a watcher?”
She laughs. And it’s real too. “You want me to find a partner so you can?—?”
“Sex. Is that really all you think about? I mean, you’ve never heard of people-watching?”
A breath comes out of her, but I can’t tell if it’s resignation or frustration. One of the two, for sure. “Look, you spent fifty bucks, so if you just wanna watch me sit here watching you, it’s all good with me.”
“Everything’s all good with you, isn’t it? You’re the most agreeable woman in the world, aren’t you?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not a bad thing if you’re partners with someone. But a stranger? Yeah, that’s just fuckin’ suspicious.”
“What’s that mean? You think I’m trying to trap you or something?”
“Darlin’, I don’t know who you are, but it’s blatantly obvious that you have no clue who I am.”
“Tell me then, who are you?”
My laugh is nearly a guffaw. “Why?” I point to the ceiling. “So you can get it all on vid? I work for Edge Security. And yeah, I’m new there, but I earned the right to be part of an operation like that many, many years ago. There are seventeen cameras in here that I can see. Each of them has a microphone, but if I were to take a closer look at, say… the lamps, or that screen on the wall, I’m sure I’d find a few more. So while your little ploy might work on other people, it’s not gonna work on me. And you know what? That sucks. Because I thought about you all week.” I shake my head here. “Stupid, I know, since you’re nothing but a whore. But you’re pretty and if we were friends, you’d probably be very easy to talk to. So it’s a bit disappointin’ that just a few minutes in, you’ve proven yourself to be exactly what I first thought you were and nothing like the person I hoped you’d be.”
I get up and start for the door.
“Wait!” She hurriedly follows me, placing a hand on my arm as I turn the handle. “Don’t go.”
I look over my shoulder at her. “Don’t go? Why the hell would I stay? This place is… weird. Cool, I guess, but weird. And maybe you get that, or maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re some poor single mother just doing her best to make ends meet, so you don’t bother looking real hard at things, but either way,”—I grab her hand and slide it off my arm—“I won’t be back.”
Outside in the hallway, I pause, unsure where the exit is. But I can hear people to my left, so I head that direction. The hallway turns, and then I see the main bar up ahead through the windows of a stainless-steel double door.
When I push through, there’s suddenly music. Like it’s on some kind of timer. And even though it’s not even ten am, there are a lot more people here now.
I shoulder through them, suddenly realizing just how strange this all is. I mean, everything about it is bizarre, especially the location. But to be this busy, this early in the morning, when maybe twenty minutes ago there was no one here?
It’s weird. And all I want to do now is get out.
I cross the room, heading for the stairs, and go up them. Then I pull the door open and leave.
Once outside, the music fades along with the stale scent of cigarettes, and reality returns in the form of a quiet autumn morning in the woods with the faint sound of the river in the gorge down below.
I walk past the coke ovens and I’m just about to start up the stairs when I hear, “Wait! Will you slow down for a minute?”
I turn and find the girl has put on a long coat and a pair of boots and is following me. “What are you doing?”
She stops when there’s about twenty feet between us and shrugs. “I don’t know. I just… didn’t even get your name.”
“Yes, you did. It was on my credit card.”
“But…” She licks her lips, like she’s nervous. “You didn’t get mine.”
“So?”
“Well… maybe we could start there?”
I shake my head and scoff, then hit the steps, taking them two at a time. It’s a long hike up, but I’m willing to put in the extra effort if it’ll put some distance between me and this girl.
She follows me, practically running to keep up. “Can you just slow down for a moment?”
“Why? So you can have time to come up with some more lies?”
“I just wanna get to know you?—”
I whirl around, angry now. “Why the hell would you want to get to know me? I’m a really fucked-up dude. You had my name. If you didn’t look me up, that’s your problem, I guess. But you did, didn’t you? And that means you know exactly what I’m talking about. So please, don’t insult me. I’m not some dumb fuckin’ hick who just walked out of the woods. That place back there? There’s something wrong with it. In fact, there’s nothing right about that place. Which means there’s nothing right about you. And ya know what? You’re just not worth it.”
I turn and start climbing again.
“I’m sorry!” she yells.
Against my better judgment, I pause. But I don’t look at her. “You’re sorry about what?”
“The cameras. You’re right, they’re everywhere. It’s a sting.”
“What?” I turn around and stare at her, only to find her nervously looking over her shoulder. Like someone might be watching. “What do you mean, it’s a sting?”
She huffs. “You know. A fuckin’ honeypot.”
I knew it. “Who are you?”
She presses her lips together. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
But she shakes her head. “No. Not here. If you want to know what’s going on, then meet me somewhere.”
“Where?”
“You pick. So you don’t think I’m setting you up.”
Walk away, Shep. Just walk the fuck away .
But since when do I ever listen to my own good advice?
“The Revenant Diner. Sunday at noon. I’ll be there.”
Then I turn and continue up the stairs and this time, she doesn’t follow.
Maybe I will be there on Sunday, but then again, maybe I won’t.
Because Collin set that lie detector test up for tomorrow morning and it’s not just any old lie detector test, it’s a fMRI. They’re gonna scan my brain while they ask me questions.
And if I fail?
Well, let’s just hope I don’t.