"My dreams, they're all dead and buried,
Sometimes I wish the sun would just explode,
When God comes and calls me to his Kingdom,
I'll take all ya sons of bitches with me when I go, whoah-e-oh-e-oh-e-oh!"
"And that's the latest hit single from Unknown Hinson," drawled the radio announcer. "This chart-topping record went triple-platinum last week, passin' the Elvis of Country's previous hit "She Weren't Wearin' Nothing But Her Boots," truly amazing. You're listenin' to KDZW Teufort, home of the Scorpions… Now here's an old favorite from our ol' pal Johnny Cash…"
The radio announcer's tinny voice echoed off the complex, a sprawling conglomeration of wood and concrete, the once brilliant red paint now faded to a rusty pink by the merciless sun. The desert stretched as far as the eye could see, cracked earth broken up only by the occasional cactus and Joshua tree, the only sound the melancholy cry of the hunting hawk. It was an unforgiving and lonely land, and the radio's mechanical voice was swallowed up by the vast silence of it all.
In such a place, it would have been easy to forget that civilization still existed, to think that the sprawling complex was merely a remnant of a long-extinct humanity left untouched by nuclear fire, were it not for the small but exceedingly well maintained highway running outside the complex. In one direction, the road led to the town of Teufort, the closest population center within 30 miles. In the other direction lay the Badlands, and perhaps Mexico. No one within living memory had ever ventured far enough along the road to find out.
A short, stocky man, wearing overalls, a construction worker's helmet, and tinted goggles stood in the shade of one of the larger wooden buildings. He leaned against the wall, next to a door marked DELIVERIES ONLY, and a large sign painted on said wall reading R.E.D. - Reliable Excavation and Demolition – Redmond Mann Says "Yes We Can!" He took a swig from a bottle of beer – "Red Shed – Only the Best!" – and studied the horizon. The cold bottle was beginning to sweat, and he wiped it on his pants absentmindedly.
"When I was just a baby,
My mother told me, "Son,"
A small plume of dust appeared on the horizon, shimmering in the heat radiating from the road. The man leaned forward, squinted, and lifted his goggles to get a better view, revealing eyes as clear blue as the desert sky. Upon closer inspection, it was not a cloud of dust, but steam.
"Always be a good boy,"
Along the lonely road outside the complex, a small blue car was barreling at breakneck speed, gushing steam like a wounded locomotive.
"Hmmm," said the Engineer. "This oughta be interesting."
"Don't ever play with guns…"
"But I shot a man in Reno,
Just to watch him die,
When I hear that whistle blowin'
I hang my head and cry…"
"I hate this friggin' song," whined Scout, for the 207th time. He began to bang his head against the window in time with the music. "Bored, bored, bored, bored-"
"Honey, do me a favor and shut the hell up," snapped his mother. "And for the love of Joe DiMaggio, putcha seat belt on."
"BOOOOOOREDDD…" moaned Scout, squirming in his seat like a two-year-old. "Are we THERE yet?"
"You better hope so, or else we'll be walkin' the rest of the way," she replied, glancing briefly at the dashboard. The engine heat gauge had been firmly stuck at "H" for over an hour, and the copious amounts of steam now pouring out from under the hood suggested the vehicle's imminent demise. "Why dontcha, I dunno, look out the window or something?"
Scout groaned in frustration, and flipped upside down in his seat. "Man, I can't wait to get out there and meet the other guys. It's gonna be wicked sick."
His mother frowned. "I hope you're not getting ya self worked up for nothin', Richie. Your brother Andy was a security guard for a few months at the dockyards, and he got bored stiff."
"Yeah, but I'm gettin' paid ten times the amount he was! 'Sides, this isn't some lame-ass grind. These guys are mercenaries! It's gonna be awesome!"
"I still think ya need to be careful. I don't know why they chose ya, but the amount they're payin, I'm not gonna question it. Just promise me you won't get hurt, or do anything stupid. You're a man now, Richie, and you're gonna have to make your own decisions-"
"Yeah, yeah, sure thing, Mom," said Scout absentmindedly. He was fantasizing about what his teammates would be like.
There'd probably be some sort of stealth and camouflage expert, a raspy-voiced no-nonsense mercenary with some awesome codename like "Snake." "Nggh, Scout," he'd growl, "Excellent work today. You can wear my headband if you like."
And there'd probably be an ultra-cool badass with awesome sunglasses, a blond crewcut, and a snappy one-liner for every time he killed someone. "Hey, kid," he'd say, cigar clamped between his teeth. "Wanna learn how to pick up strippers?"
And some samurai dude who'd also be, like, a martial arts expert and ninja, and would have all sorts of wise Chinesey sayings, and teach Scout karate, and-
"Look honey, I think that's it!" exclaimed his mother, pointing to the large complex crouched on the horizon.
It was at this point that the car's engine burst into flames.
Engineer gasped with shock as the little blue car was enveloped in a sheet of flame; smoke obscuring the windshield, the vehicle swerving wildly from side to side. He dashed inside the building to retrieve the fire extinguisher at the top of the stairs, and then ran back outside. "Hold on, fellas, I'm coming!"
"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod-" screamed Scout as his mother fought for control of the steering wheel. "I'm still a virgin, I can't die a virgin, nonononono-"
The Ford swerved off the road towards the complex, taking out part of a barbed-wire fence as it went. Brakes squealing, it came to a halt right outside the door. Scout leapt from the vehicle as soon as it stopped, still howling with fear, as a man in a hard hat ran past him with a fire extinguisher, hosing the car down with frigid white dust. The man grabbed the hood of the car with his gloved hand, throwing it upward, and began dousing the blaze that rose up to meet him. With a practiced hand, he continued to spray the engine until it was completely extinguished. Satisfied, he pulled the driver's side door open and helped Scout's mother out.
"You sure are lucky, ma'am," the man remarked. "Are you feelin' alright?"
"I… think I'm ok, thanks," she replied, still slightly in shock. "My son – is he still in the car – "
"No ma'am, he's right over here. A bit shaken up, but he'll be alright."
The man gestured to Scout, who was now sucking his thumb.
"Now that I take a look at it, y'all weren't in any real danger." He peered into the engine compartment with great interest. "Looks like the radiator'd run dry, which caused the engine to overheat, and the combination of some exposed wiring in the electromotor coil and some oil leakage started a fire. Now I'd have to do a little examining to find out whether…"
He continued to ramble on about the intricacies of engine fires, while Scout found himself embraced by his mother.
Several minutes later, after the man had finished his monologue, mother and son had recovered completely.
Well, the mother had, anyway. Once he had realized the scene he'd made, Scout's face had acquired the redness of a freshly boiled lobster, and the grimace of someone passing a kidney stone. Mama Scout, on the other hand, was now chatting up their rescuer like they were old friends.
"The name's Dell Conagher, ma'am, but you can just call me Dell. Pleasure to meet you and your boy." The man tipped his hard hat, revealing a clean-shaven dome that glinted fiercely in the desert sun. "What's your name, son?"
Scout crossed his arms even tighter against his chest. "Scout," he muttered, avoiding eye contact.
"Richie!" Scout's mom scolded. "What's the matta with you? I raised ya ta have manners, and now ya's acting like a three-year old! Mista Conagher, I am SO sorry about his behavior-"
"It's quite alright, ma'am," said the man kindly. "I reckon he's just feeling a mite like a fish out of water right now. Once he gets settled in he'll warm up in no time."
Scout snorted in derision. No way he was gonna pal around with this goofy old hayseed. He was probably the janitor or something. What a dumbass. He looked to his ma, expecting another outburst, but none came.
What he saw instead was worse. Aw, crap.
"Such a gentleman – so polite!" She sashayed over to the man, brushing an imaginary strand of hair from her forehead. "Are you gonna be workin' with Richie here?"
"Yup," said the man. "I'm the Engineer of the team. I guess you could say I'm a master of all things mechanical." He smiled at his own joke. Scout's ma giggled girlishly and moved closer, her eyes gleaming.
Scout felt ill. But he couldn't tear his eyes away.
"I bet you're a real handy fella to have around the house…" Scout's ma purred, resting her hand on the Engineer's shoulder.
Scout made a noise like a mouse being stepped on.
"And I just a-dore a man who's good with his hands…"
Her own hand slipped down to caress Engineer's thigh. Beads of perspiration trickled down Scout's neck.
"Yup," said the Engineer, completely oblivious. "My Sallie says one of the reasons she married me was 'cause she'd never need a handyman again-"
"Your what?' Scout's ma interjected, freezing in mid-stroke.
"My wife, Sallie Mae. Prettiest little thing you ever did see, now." He shook his head fondly. "Keeps the house cleaner'n a whistle, has a real way with animals and little ones, and bakes the sweetest apple pie you ever tasted. Mother of my children, an' queen of my heart."
"Um…" mother and son said in unison.
"Y'all wanna see a picture?"
Scout's expression was peculiar to say the least, and his mother wasn't doing much better.
"Here we are," said the Engineer, pulling a well-worn photo from his wallet. The picture showed a comely red-haired matron in a checked gingham dress, embracing two adorable children, a boy and a girl, both with piercing blue eyes. It was as if the ideal of Texan family values had manifested itself in physical form.
"And a third one on the way," beamed the Engineer with paternal pride, as he stowed away the photograph. "You ever find a girl like her, son, you marry her right quick."
Scout's ma was the first to break the seemingly endless silence that followed. "Well, Mista Conagher-"
"Dell, if you please-"
"-I'm sure you'll get along just fine with Richie here. He could use a strong male role model in his life." She laughed nervously, fumbling with her purse. Engineer looked puzzled, and began to open his mouth when his watch suddenly began beeping.
"Good night Irene!" exclaimed the Engineer. "I plumb forgot! You'll have to pardon me, ma'am, but I've got baked goods a-burnin'! Pleasure meetin' you all!' And he scrambled like a startled steer into the building. Scout's ma watched him go, and Scout could have sworn on a stack of baseball cards that she muttered something under her breath about "all the good ones being either married or gay." She turned back to him, having regained her composure.
"You said there were others, right?"
"Yeah…" said Scout, knowing what she was thinking. His facial expression must have given him away, because she suddenly scowled at him.
"Richie, I don't appreciate 'cha attitude about this. Mommy's got needs too, ya know. And I didn't keep my figure and my looks after eight rowdy boys only ta let it go ta waste. That's a lotta hard work, you know."
Scout looked away. His mother softened.
"Oh, baby, don't look so down."
Scout didn't move.
"I know ya wish you had more attention from me with ya seven crazy brothers and all."
Scout waited.
"And I know ya wish you'd seen more of ya dad growin' up. God knows, I do too, even if the lousy lunk ran out on me. You hafta understand, Richie - no matta who ya see me with, I always love ya, and always will."
She gave a wry smile. "Even if ya are a real pain in the ass sometimes."
Scout tried hard to suppress his own grin. "Thanks a bunch, ma."
She responded by pecking him on the cheek. "Ew! Gross!"
Scout's mother rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's get the bags outa the car before the whole thing catches on fire. Sure hope that Mr. Conagher fella knows his way around a Ford…"