Chapter 18 – Call for Obstruction

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So far, Barry has signed his soul into servitude to Satan on Earth. He’s a driver for OTG Courier Services, forced by his demon boss, Margery, to transport concentrated evil energy from Denver to Trinidad, Colorado. Demons on the Bellow’s Ranch are dumping the substance down an abandoned coal mine’s air shafts, and it’s forming a rift between Earth and Hell that will soon open.

Despite the fact that serving Satan comes with immortal life and any sinful thing his heart desires, Barry desperately wants out of his contract. Margery has other plans for Barry and bullies him to obey or suffer the consequences she inflicts with one wave of her magical cigarettes. Barry’s not giving up though. He plays the good employee and volunteers for overtime, resolved to snoop around for contract loopholes. Only the other OTG employees go missing—likely kidnapped by white warriors who fight for God’s angels. Margery makes Barry and senior driver Vern fill in, leaving Barry no time for anything other than work.

Knowing how bad life will be once the Gates of Hell open, Margery and Vern ask Barry to help plug up the air shafts. He agrees until he finds out they plan to do it by dropping innocent children down into the hell hole. To get Barry back on board, Margery contracts Nina, his love interest. She promises to release Nina from servitude and give her to Barry if he follows through on the plan. Barry is now on the road, driving a box truck full of kids to Trinidad and trying to figure a way out of both his contract and Margery’s hellish plan.

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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Just south of Fort Carson, there’s a white car in the median with a woman standing beside it. She’s wearing a white top and mini-skirt, and her legs stretch up to her neck. She’s waving like she wants me to stop.

I speed up.

Four miles and two exits south, it’s like deja vu: white car, white skirt, shapely legs. She waves at me again. By now I know better than to trust any clusters of white. I drive on past.

Ten minutes later, no coincidence, the same scene’s up ahead. This time she’s standing spread eagle in the middle of the highway, waving her arms above her head. I veer left and press the gas pedal to the floor. She’s not giving up though. She winds up like an ace pitcher and throws a wide curve ball. A giant white sphere, expanding in mid-air, targets my windshield.

I reach for the emergency button. It’s not there. “Shit . . . !” I holler as the sphere hits the glass. It bursts the same as a water balloon, and white splatters across my entire view. I slam on the brake, swerve off the road and come to a stop.

My heart races and I pant while searching for the windshield wipers. When I finally switch them on it’s senseless. The white coating’s dried.

What to do next, I wonder. At least I’m not having another panic attack. I look out the side view mirror and see the girl in white running down the highway on six inch heels like an Olympic sprinter.

I reach for the door handle, but the door opens by itself. Great, another magician. And I’m pretty sure she’s even less on my side than Margery.

“Come on out,” she says.

Afraid of what she might do next, I comply. “You?” I say as I jump to the pavement. It’s Trisha, from the coffee shop.

“Hi, Barry.” She smiles and bounces while brushing her brown hair back from her face.

“What the hell did you throw at the windshield? You could have killed me.”

“Not likely.” She rolls her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, although I’m pretty sure I know exactly who she works for and why she’s stopped me.

“You’ve made some poor choices over the last few days.” She’s shaking her head.

“No shit,” I mumble and look down at the pavement. “Are you one of those white warriors, here to take me away?”

“I used to be, many years ago. What I am is an angel’s apprentice.”

“Really?” my tone snide and unbelieving.

“Yes, Barry,” she says. “Margery and I go way back. I even worked for her once. Well for a few hours before I turned white warrior.”

“Is that what you’re here to do, turn me?”

“Are you kidding? I know what you’re hauling in the truck. Your redemption won’t be so easy.”

“I kind of figured that’s why you stopped me. What’s going to happen to me.”

“Well, if you cooperate—” she says.

“What? What? I’ll do anything.”

“Careful. That’s the attitude that got you into this mess in the first place,” she says. “But for starters, tell me why you and Vern are transporting kids?”

“They’re.” I sigh and hang my head again. “They’re sacrificing the kids to plug up the air shafts that lead to the Gates of Hell.”

“And you’re helping?”

“I don’t really have a choice, and it’s better than the alternative.”

“You always have a choice. Why didn’t you ask for God’s help?”

“How was I supposed to do that?”

“Ever try praying? People ask God for help all the time, and guess what, Barry? He’s listening.”

“How is it your side doesn’t already know what Margery and Vern are up to? I mean you know about the kids.”

“Margery’s a lot more powerful than you might think. Her magical cigarettes are nothing compared to the other tricks she has up her sleeve. Plus, the warehouses, vans and ranch are protected by powerful spells. About the only way we get information is from the drivers we capture, and most of them are useless. Every now and then Margery makes a mistake, like today. There’s no protection on the trucks you and Vern are driving. We saw the cargo as soon as you both drove out of the parking lot.”

My eyes widen. “She was probably in a hurry because the gates are ready to open.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that first.” Trisha gets extra bouncy when she’s upset.

“Again, Trisha, how does your side not know this?”

“Back up a minute, Barry. Why does Margery want to close the Gates of Hell? It’s her job to open it.”

“She says she likes it better on Earth.”

“I’ve got to get this information back to the other apprentices.”

“Wait. Does this get me out of trouble?”

Trisha laughs. “Not even close,” she says. “The next thing you’re going to do for me is make a deliver to Margery.” Trisha looks up in the sky, whistles and holds out her hand.

A white mass descends, a warrior, flying overhead, it drops something the size of a bowling ball. Trisha catches it with one hand without looking. It’s wrapped in clear plastic, whatever it is. Then, as she hands it to me, I realize it’s Vern’s head and drop it to the pavement. “What the fu—”

“Had to be done. He’s no use to us and he’s become too much trouble,” she says. “In case you don’t already know, it’s the only way to kill a driver, so be careful to keep yours around Margery. Trust me, you don’t want the afterlife of a driver.”

I pick up the bag and hold it at arms length. “You want me to deliver Vern’s head to Margery?”

“It’ll send a pretty good message, don’t you think.” She laughs.

“As long as she doesn’t kill the messenger.”

“Are the keys in the Truck?” she asks.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’m taking the kids.” She pushes me out of the way and gets in the truck. Before she closes the door she looks down. “I’ll be in touch. Soon,” she says and drives away, leaving me alone on the highway with Vern’s head.

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