FoA S3 Chapter 11

There’s just a little crunch as you **** the door and enter the Gator Shack’s dark kitchen. You don’t know what you expected; it’s still and quiet. There’s no security alarm. The place has that restaurant kitchen smell of grease and cleaning products. You turn on the lights to find a normal, slightly industrial kitchen. A to-go cup from a gas station sits on the counter. You walk over and take the lid off to check: the ice inside is melted. It’s been sitting here a while.

The presence of that truck outside doesn’t mean that someone is here.

“Is anyone home?” you ask pointlessly. “Hello? Do you have a landline?”

“Or a sandwich?” Joey chimes in, opening a refrigerator.

“We’re here for help. Not for looting,” Vicky tells her.

“She literally just said you’re criminals,” Joey replies, pointing at you. “I’m a criminal too. I’m stealing this yogurt right here. Prosecute me, bitch.”

You keep moving, searching for a landline. You expect to see one in the kitchen, or maybe in an office. There’s a locked door, but you don’t want to smash anything that you don’t have to. You move out into the restaurant area and turn on the lights.

There it is: a black phone, mounted on the wall by the little stand near the door where a server would wait to seat new customers. Relief hits you like a shot of whiskey. This is even better than the shower. Most phone numbers were saved in your phone, but you know Stef’s.

“Is that what I think it is?” Vicky asks.

“Thank god,” you say. Joey emerges excitedly from the kitchen, carrying a cup of yogurt and a plastic spoon.

“Hell yes,” she says. “Wait, who are we calling?”

“We’ll get you a ride into Gurlberg,” Vicky assures her. Right. There’s no game plan for Joey. She probably needs to just run away from the people that she tried to fuck over. That will give her the best chance of not getting shot. It sucks, but she got herself into this.

Just like you got yourself into the fix that you’re in. By now, Stef and the others will be losing their shit. No van, no money, no merch, and not just bad news, but new enemies. Deputy Connell? She’s not your friend. And word will get around to this Z person that the Free Gurls helped Joey; there’s no doubt about that. This is a catastrophic fuckup. You don’t know if you can fix it, but if you can, the first step is getting back to Gurlberg and getting a new phone.

You walk quickly to the phone and pick it up, but hesitate and look to Vicky.

“Should we have them pick us up?” you ask.

Vicky nods vigorously.

You take a breath, then punch in Stef’s number. There’s a smile of relief on Vicky’s face as she leans against the wall, watching you. She’s the senior member of the club and everything, so she was trying to act like a leader, at least a little. But she had to be as freaked out as you were.

Joey is the opposite. She’s starting to look worried. In a crisis it was easy for her not to think about the disaster that is her life. Now she has to face reality, which blows.

But that is not your problem.

Stef picks up.

“Hello?” she asks. The stress is evident in her voice.

“Stef?”

“Adella! Oh my god,” she replies. “Oh, Jesus. Are you OK? Where are you?”

“Um, the uh… gator,” you begin, but then you notice that Vicky and Joey aren’t paying attention to what you’re doing. You frown and turn to look at what they’re looking at. It takes you a second to register that the alligator standing in the restaurant is real and not a statue or something.

Between you and the kitchens, staring right at you.

“Adella? Adella?” Stef is saying.