THE GHOST IN YOU Chapter 5
Ellis had spent a majority of his morning inside the hood of and underneath cars. He could lose an entire morning under a car if he let himself, and since he was thankful for any distraction lately his job was something he was quite thankful for. It was no secret that he was one of the more skilled mechanics in town, and his boss, Rick, was happy he’d found good help. Even if he was constantly having to remind Ellis that, yes, he DID have to take breaks, and no, he couldn’t go into overtime. Ellis would have KILLED for overtime at the moment, and it wasn’t just because of the extra money.
Just as he was about to change another bout of oil, Rick pulled him out from under the Honda. Ellis yelped at the sudden movement of the wheeled board, and frowned.
“Hey what’d ya do that for?” he asked, impatiently.
“Go have lunch, Ellis,” Rick stated. “And punch out when you do, okay?”
“I’m not hungry, yet, I was gonna eat at three-.”
“No, go eat now,” Rick demanded.
“I just hafta change the oil on this-.”
“I’ll take care of it, it’s nearly two and you haven’t left the garage since seven this morning. Go eat,” Rick insisted, and Ellis rolled his eyes. “Go eat.”
“Fine,” Ellis conceded, sitting up and wiping his hands off on his rag. “But don’t touch this car, okay? I promised that I’D do it and I intend to keep my promise.”
“I won’t,” Rick promised. “Take as long as you need.”
“I’ll only need ‘bout fifteen minutes-.”
“Take an hour.”
“But-!”
“We may be in the middle of a rebirth in society, Ellis, but labor laws still apply, even in a five thousand person town,” Rick cut him off. “If you are into OT b the end of the week I’m going to be really pissed.”
“Why can’t ya just pay me the overtime?”
“Because that’s not how I work. GO EAT.” Ellis huffed, and nodded reluctantly. He didn’t want to get out of the groove of the car, but if Rick was going to insist, he had little choice but to comply. And he didn’t care about the overtime, he would work off the clock and without pay if it would distract him. Of course, things probably wouldn’t go over so well with Rick if Ellis was somehow discovered working on a car at five a.m. At that moment he decided he needed to start a project at home.
One of the perks of working at Dare’s Garage was that it was a hop, skip, and jump away from a very nice park. Whenever it was pleasant out, Ellis would take his lunch on one of the picnic tables, listening to the birds sing and the frogs croak in the small pond. That afternoon was particularly nice, a refreshing breeze billowing through the tree tops and cooling his face. He had found himself in a better mood that day, as it had been three since the embarrassing town hall meeting at the rec center. He sprawled on top of the picnic table, humming to himself as he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. True, some people would ask him just how he knew a Z-Man, but when he wasn’t very forthcoming they wouldn’t push the issue. He hadn’t seen much of Nick around either, which was fine by him. He figured that he and Francis must have spent the days patrolling around the outer borders of town, and then went home, if he was still the introverted lone wolf he had been three years prior.
As far as he knew Ro hadn’t taken Francis up on that date. But he could tell that she wanted to. ‘Just because I need to get an interview!’ she would assert whenever Ellis would tease her about it.
He chewed his food slowly, eyes closed as he took in the beautiful weather. Autumn was definitely coming, he could smell it in the air. As much as Summer was the season that he and his friends had used as an excuse for mayhem, he’d always preferred the placidity of Fall. Fall meant change. He could use a change. Even though it was the season that his life had completely gone off track, he still liked it.
While he finished off his sandwich, he heard footfalls coming his way on the grass. He assumed that it was just a passer by, as this was a popular area for people to visit, but when the footsteps stopped, he opened one eye to see just who it was who was next to him. He’d assumed it would be Barbara.
So when it was Nick, he was caught off guard. He sat up slowly, eyes wide once again. The gambler nodded at him, hands in his pockets and frown on his lips.
“Hey,” he said, trying to sound blasé, and Ellis nodded slowly.
“Hey,” he answered. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
“I didn’t, I was coming into town to pick up food for me and Francis,” Nick replied. “We’re on the East side of the fence, patrolling.”
“Oh.” Part of him was tempted to run again, but the rest of him was sick of running. This was his town too, dammit. He couldn’t just turn tail and hide whenever he had to share space with his ex. Nick nodded a little, lip twitching slightly. It was a small comfort to know that he was nervous too, at least, and Ellis couldn’t help but feel that old familiar heart flutter as he stared back at him. Yeah, he looked a bit older, and more tired. And there were new scars on his face, small ones, ones that just peppered his cheeks and jaw instead of distorting them. But the eyes, those steely green eyes with the haughty glint… those were unchanged.
“…… Peanut butter and jelly, huh?” the older man said, pointing to the stain on Ellis’ shirt. The mechanic brushed at it, embarrassedly, and shrugged.
“Yeah.”
“Figures you’d like that.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“Elvis’ too.”
“Naw, he liked peanut butter an’ banana,” Ellis corrected, showing his disgust for the recipe by grimacing. Nick smiled, amused. “Banana’s’re gross.”
“…… So it’s been a long time,” Nick continued. “How’ve you been, kiddo?”
Ellis shifted his body so his feet were resting on the bench, and scratched the back of his neck, nervously. “….. Okay. You?”
“Can’t complain….”
“I guess not. Got a pretty good job, get to travel all over doin’ what you do best,” the mechanic said, politely. “You must be over the moon.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Nick shrugged. “I mean, I wish I was in Vegas working the tables, but you know how it is. But hey, someday I’ll get back to that. Once all this shit dies down.”
“Yeah, that’d be pretty cool. I wanna get back to Savannah too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, me an’ Keith an’ Dave, we all said that as soon as it was ready for us, we’d all go back,” Ellis said, smiling at the thought of it.
“…. So…. You look good,” Nick ventured, taking a chance and hoping that he still had a lucky streak in him.
“……. Thanks.”
“I thought I was hallucinating at the bar when I saw you…..”
“Oh.”
“And speaking of bars, I don’t know much about this place.” Hm, that was a little fumbling, he thought, but charged on anyway. “Maybe sometime we could go out and you can show me around town.”
Ellis swallowed, uncomfortably, and then hopped off the table. “I’m real busy lately, Nick, I’m probably not the best person to do that….. I hafta get back to work.” Even though the idea of going out with Nick was vaguely tempting, at least to a small part of him, his thoughts kept going back to the Milltown, and all those terrible things that had been said. He’d thought that the words had been long forgotten, but the more he thought about Nick, the more they came back to haunt him. So of course he had to say no. He just hoped he could get that through without any hassle from the older man.
Which was, of course, a pipe dream.
“Hey, hold on,” Nick said, reaching for his shoulder, but Ellis pulled it away before he could make contact.
“I really can’t talk right now,” he replied coldly, crossing his arms, and Nick snorted, becoming more frustrated as each second passed.
“Bullshit, you have plenty of time to talk,” he said, a frown curling his lips.
“No, I don’t, I hafta get back to work,” Ellis snapped, and shoved past him roughly.
“Jesus Christ, kiddo-!”
“Don’t call me that!” Ellis snarled, still walking away. “I’m not a kid anymore, I’m twenty six for God’s sake!”
“Fine, whatever,” Nick replied, thinking that the mechanic was certainly ACTING like a kid as he attempted to keep pace with him. “Would you slow the hell down? I have a hard enough time keeping up with the Infected, I shouldn’t have to chase after you too!”
Ellis shook his head, wishing that the guy would just back off. “I hafta get back to-!”
“You DON’T have to get back to work!” Nick protested. “You can give me five minutes! It’s been three years-!”
“So what?” Ellis asked coarsely as he spun around to finally look at him in the eyes. “So WHAT if it’s been three years? Last time we saw each other you were perfectly fine if we never saw each other again!”
“Last time we-? Fucking seriously?!” Nick exclaimed, angrily running a hand through his hair. “Last time we saw each other I was being dragged off down a goddamn hallway trying my hardest to get back to you and Ro and Coach! Last time we saw each other I was kicking and punching and getting my face smacked with the butt of a gun, just trying to see you all one last time!”
“Look, can you just save your cons for someone who hasn’t learned that you’re full of shit?” Ellis snapped. “Cuz I’m still sick of ‘em even if I haven’t talked to you in three years!”
“I’m not conning you!”
“Lots has changed since then, an’-!”
“Oh, believe me, I fucking know,” Nick scoffed. “For example, suddenly you’re into pussy again, right?”
“Wha-?”
“Met a hot little blonde number after the town hall meeting, said that she was your girlfriend,” Nick stated, quite visibly incensed by it. “Your taste in chicks isn’t too bad, Overalls, but do you think she could lay off the ‘Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm Routine’?” That had to be Barbara. Oh great, now she’s tellin’ people we’re actually datin’, Ellis thought, and was about to deny it out of habit. But as soon as he opened his mouth, he shut it again, and shrugged. Why not let the Z-Man live with that delusion?
“Barbara an’ me aren’t really your business.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Lord knew that he’d been fucking other people in that time. And he didn’t even care if those people fucked other people. But with Ellis…. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly green-eyed at the thought of that blonde kissing him, touching him, riding his dick and making him come. “….She sure seemed sweet as pie.”
“Yeah, that’s a change for me,” Ellis taunted, that rarely seen Cheshire sneer growing on his face. It wasn’t in his nature to deliberately hurt people, but right now he wanted to make Nick sting. Of course, he was an amateur, and the jibe barely phased the older man. You’ll have to do better than that, kiddo, the Z-Man thought.
“Girls are probably a change for you,” he stated, snidely.
“Well, like you said, three years is a long time,” Ellis replied, sadly, and mustered up a bit of courage and willpower, willpower he probably should have had when he first met the con man. “An’ frankly, Nick, you said yourself we’re two different people with two different lives, an’ that hasn’t changed. Personally, outside of me fixin’ your car or somethin’, I don’t think we should have anything to do with each other. Cuz I have nothin’ to say to you. So jus’ drop it, okay?”
Nick wasn’t used to being written off like this. Even when he’d treated them absolutely horribly, his lovers would almost always come back. Especially when he didn’t want them to. So this must have been a hilarious joke to that bitch named Karma. “….. El, come on,” he said weakly, but Ellis shook his head, holding up his hands and walking away, and this time Nick didn’t follow him. He hadn’t been particularly cruel. But somehow that made it worse for the gambler. He watched helplessly as his ex-lover walked back towards the garage, vexed that it hadn’t gone the way he’d wanted it to. He didn’t know if he thought that Ellis would just forgive and forget, toss his arms around him, kiss him, or what. But now that he realized that for once his actions had actually pushed this person away for real, no matter the sweet talking, he snorted, and crossed his arms defensively. Well, this could have gone better, he thought, and turned around and walked back to his car.
Francis was pummeling an Infected with a baseball bat when Nick came back through the fence. “I hope you brought burritos,” the biker said as he stomped on the creature’s rib cage.
“I didn’t get lunch.”
“What the fuck?!” Francis asked, smashing the zombie’s skull for emphasis. “That was your one task! Bring back lunch!”
“I’m not hungry,” Nick replied, yanking a peppermint stick from his pocket and unwrapping it.
“YOU may not be, but I’m starving!” Francis groused. “I was really looking forward to that burrito!”
“So go get a fucking burrito!” Nick growled, loading his gun.
“I wanted it now. I hate waiting.”
“Look Francis, either shut the hell up or get your own damn burrito!” Nick spat, aiming at a long distance shambler and shooting it more than necessary. “I’m not in the mood.”
“You need to get laid.”
“Unless you’re offering, shut up.”
“Touchy!” Francis exclaimed. “Fine. I’ll get my own damn burrito, Suit.” Francis flipped him off as he slipped through the fence, but the con man didn’t notice as he chewed on his candy and stewed.
After purchasing the burrito he had so richly desired, Francis blasted Metallica in Nick’s car, knowing that such a thing would not have been permitted had his partner been there. Of course, Nick wouldn’t have permitted him to eat the cheesy and sloppy burrito in his car either, but what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. As Francis drove down the streets of the town (probably a bit too fast), his eyes landed on the Herald’s headquarters. Which wasn’t much more than a small office building. He grinned, and braked the car violently, spilling burrito cheese onto the dashboard.
“Oops,” he muttered, but didn’t do anything about it. He’d clean it up later. Right now he had more important things to take care of. He parked swiftly, exited the BMW, and trotted up the steps to the building.
Rochelle was sipping coffee at her desk, doing a crossword puzzle instead of work. Crossword puzzles were the bane of her existence, and yet she couldn’t help but take them on over and over again. She muttered under her breath at the clue ‘Thai Transportation’, and chewed on her pencil. Why do I do this to myself, she wondered, and tossed the paper down on her desk.
Just as she was about to pick it up again, she heard someone clear his throat. She looked up to see Francis, full leather garb (and a little gore for good measure) and cunning grin on his face, standing next to her desk. “Hello, Cupcake! I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
She blinked once, then twice, and before she went thrice she crossed her arms. “Well well. And what exactly can I do for you, Mister Z-Man?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and leaned forward on her desk.
“You’re in trouble.”
“Huh?”
“You never confirmed our date,” he said, gruffly, and she inwardly swooned while outwardly remaining stoic. “So I thought that I would just… pop on by and try to get some concrete plans laid out. Like concrete.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she said, tucking the pencil in her tied up hair. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a date, Francis, I thought that it was an interview.”
“Interview, date, not much difference if you ask me,” the biker said, smirking. “So what do you say, Sugar? Date?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, spinning her chair around so he wouldn’t see her smile. “You guys are kind of old news now. You’ve settled into routine, you’ve been keeping the zombies away…. I’d probably get more press covering Flossie Crandall’s five hundredth pecan pie.”
“Pecan pie?!”
“Oh yeah, her pie is basically famous. She used to stuff it with plastic explosives and chuck them at the Infected,” Rochelle explained, playing with her nails. “They’d try to eat it, and boom! Now it’s just pie, but it’s a good story, don’t you think?”
“No I don’t think!” Francis snarled, and she turned around, teasing smile on her face. “Human interest stories are bullsh-!…. Bunk! They’re bunk! Me and Nick are better stories than pecan pie!”
“Well you know how I feel about NICK,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “But…. Well, if you’re interested in being interviewed, it might turn the public opinion tide.”
“Wait, it’s a bad tide?” Francis asked, frowning.
“Eh.”
“What’s their problem? Screw the public!” Francis snorted. “Nick and me are doing a great job!”
“I don’t dispute that,” she said, tilting her head to the side.
“I don’t see any of them going out and killing these things.”
“Oh I know.”
“Psh. Asshats.”
She bit her lip, and pointed at his vest. “You have blood on you.”
“Yeah, comes with the territory,” he shrugged. “I hope it doesn’t turn you back off.”
“Who said I was turned on?” she demanded.
“Some things don’t have to be said, Cupcake.”
“What a line.”
“So when’s our date?”
“You mean our interview?”
“Whatever.”
“Saturday afternoon?” she suggested. “I’ll have to check my schedule of course, but I have a feeling that it’s going to be pretty open.”
“Mine might not be.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh, you’re okay with that kind of language?”
“Did you HEAR my mouth when I punched your asshole partner in the face?”
“Hm HMMM. I like you.” She bit her tongue, and snickered. “Fine. Carlisle’s. Saturday. Five O’Clock. It’s a date.”
“It’s an INTERVIEW, Francis,” she said, warning him, but not too hard. He stood back up, and winked at her.
“Should I wear a suit for it?” he asked.
“Oh, I prefer the leather get up,” she replied, quirking her lip, and he couldn’t hold in a laugh. If he didn’t have to go pick up Nick, he would have stayed there all day, volleying banter back and forth. He enjoyed the challenge. “Saturday then.”
“Oh yeah, you can bet your ass.”
“It would be a real shame if I lost my ass to the likes of you.”
“JEEZE!” he hooted, shaking his head as he grinned dumbly. “You’re a piece of work!” If he hadn’t thought she’d smack him upside the head, he’d have thrown the stuff off her desk and laid himself out for her at that moment. No question.
“I aim to please,” she said, removing the pencil and going back to her crossword. “Bye, Francis.” He nodded, lightly hitting the doorframe on the way out, and practically skipping back to the BMW. Oh man, Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.