Chapter 12 Part 1 Call for Obstruction

So far, Barry has signed his soul into servitude to Satan on Earth. He is a courier, transporting some unknown cargo between Denver and Trinidad, Colorado. He desperately wants out of his contract, but his boss Margery, a demon, has other plans for him.

Before he drives his second day of work, he chats on instant messenger with his friend Nina, but he doesn’t have time to find out what she really wants. At the warehouse, he volunteers for overtime, thinking it might give him time to snoop around for a way to nullify is contract. Before Barry and Vern leave the warehouse, Margery teaches Vern a lesson for talking back to her.

The Courier Series is about Barry White, a twenty-something computer geek with an overbearing mother, no prospects of finding a girlfriend, and an unemployment record that’s made him pessimistic he’ll ever be happy.

In Call for Obstruction, Barry has just lost his fourth jobs in the past year due to corporate downsizing. Desperate for employment, he jumps at the first position he’s offered over the phone, driver for OTG Courier Services. Shortly after meeting his new boss, a tiny yet fiery old lady named Margery, she coerces him into signing a questionable employment contract he soon regrets.

The Courier was originally written as a twitter novel @TheCourierNovel in 2009, and the same year it won the Annual Textnovel Writing Contest. Later parts of the story are still tweeting.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

W. J. Howard lives near Denver and writes horror, fantasy and sci-fi with a bit of comedy mixed in. Wendy is also the Co-op Manager for Visionary Press Cooperative, leading an innovative way to publish.

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While I was one of the last to leave the parking lot at the warehouse in Denver, I’m the first to arrive in Trinidad. I pull into the garage and wonder where the other drivers might be, but like yesterday, the only one around is Oscar, watching me park with the same old scowl on his face. I put the van in park and roll down the window.

“How’d you get here so quickly,” he calls out, “and in one piece?” Oscar limps around to the back door of the van, examining the exterior.

“What are you talking about? The drive was quiet except for the occasional semi driver who tried to run me off the road.”

Margery enters the garage and joins the inquisition. “That’s the only problem you had getting here?”

From her tone I can only figure she thinks I’m lying. I snap back, “Yeah. Why?”

Margery pulls on the handle on the back door of the van, and she seems disappointed it’s locked. She kicks at the bumper next, then disappears around the other side.

“Where are the other drivers?” I stretch my neck out the window and elevate my voice to make sure she can hear me on the other side of the van.

“I was just about to ask you that.” she says. I can see her through the side windows, a suspicious glare in her eyes.

“How would I know?” I say while I exit the van.

“You didn’t see any other vans on the highway?” She comes around the front of the van and pokes at the grill.

“No. Why would I? They left before me.”

Oscar limps back to where I’m standing. “You didn’t pass any wreckage?”

“Wreckage?” I’m starting to wonder if this is déjà vu of yesterday’s twenty questions with no answers.

“What about Vern?” Oscar asks. “Did you see Vern?”

“I told you, I didn’t see anyone from OTG.”

“Don’t worry about Vern. He can take care of himself.” Margery rocks the van like a couple of teenagers are going at in the back. Its wheels lift off the ground and Vern and I jump backward as it drops back down and bounces hard on the wheels. “Van’s fine,” Margery says. “It’s safe to unload.”

“Of course it’s fine.” I tell her.

“There’s Vern.” Oscar points outside the garage door at an approaching van.

“See. Told you,” Margery says. “Nothing stops my best driver.”

Vern screeches to a halt behind my van. He jumps out and slams the door. “Where’s Margery?”

“Get your eyes checked. I’m right here.”

“Wasn’t the nose enough, you old crow?” Vern wriggles where he stands, his blood crusted shirt half unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up. He scratches at a bright red rash covering his exposed skin, trying to avoid large pustules, some bleeding from all the scratching he must have done while driving south.

“Old crow! Apparently you need to lose a few more layers of skin to teach you to keep your mouth shut.” Margery turns to face me. “What do you think, honey? Should I tie his tongue in a knot?”

“Hey, keep the kid out of this.” Vern loses focus from his wounds just long enough to look around the garage. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re all missing except for you and Barry,” Margery says.

“Oh hell!” Vern says. “You don’t think—”

Margery cuts him off. “Of course I’ve thought of that, but they didn’t take Barry.”

“Why would they take him?” Vern says.

“What are you talking about?” I frown.

Margery shrugs. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to find new drivers. Go eat lunch and get back on the road.” She walks away, leaving me, yet again, in the dark.

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