Nolan's Ark Read online

  “Don’t charge,” Kasey said, watching the angry mob inching closer to the Secret Service barrier. “Don’t charge us.”

  There was a loud thud, followed by footsteps crashing along the upper deck. Kasey leaned her head back, following the noise as it approached the stairs.

  “Goddamn idiots!” Rage said, storming downstairs. He paced back and forth like a man desperate for a fight. His tanned skin was yellowy-brown, the color of nicotine fingers. “These people want this country to turn into a lawless swamp.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Blaze shadowed the President’s every move.

  Rage signaled to Mickey at the wheel. “I don’t think these people are voters Mickey. What do you say?”

  Mickey’s laugh was shrill and terrible. Like a goblin’s laugh. He leaned his head over the cockpit door and saluted his boss.

  “You saying what I think you’re saying Mr. President sir? You want me to bring out the big guns?”

  Kasey shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

  Rage was standing on the yellow brick road, deep in thought. “No,” he said. “Wait!”

  “Wait?” Mickey said, turning his head around. “Shoot? Don’t shoot?”

  “They’re anarchists sir,” Blaze said, his eyes pleading with Rage. “They’re anarchists standing in the way of democracy. The country doesn’t need people like that, not in the country you’re going to build starting tonight. When we took action on Melrose it was justified and I think the same applies here.”

  Rage shook his head. “We can’t keep killing everyone Blaze,” he said in a quiet voice. “Or there’ll be nobody left to vote. That vote must come through or they’ll never accept me when they look back on what happened tonight.”

  He paced back and forth with the air of a general running through the battle strategy in his mind.

  “It must be legitimate.”

  “What do I do sir?” Mickey asked. “They’re getting restless out there.”

  Rage walked towards the driver’s cabin, hands thrust in pockets. He leaned forward. The crowd, particularly at the front, was still causing the Secret Service no end of trouble. Kasey took a closer look too. She noticed a man on the frontline with a long black beard, wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt. He was the one orchestrating the rebellion with gusto. The impromptu leader. He seemed impervious to fear, challenging the Secret Service to shoot him by lifting up his t-shirt and exposing his heavily tattooed chest.

  “Looks like somebody wants to become a martyr,” Rage said.

  When the SS didn’t shoot him, the bearded man cajoled the rowdiest rebels into bouncing up and down on their toes like soccer hooligans and hurling insults and death threats at the President.

  The situation was hanging on a knife-edge. Meanwhile the burning cars in the background continued to crackle, heating up an already scorching hot Sunset Strip. The firelight cast a dull, menacing glow over the proceedings.

  “Blaze,” Rage said, summoning his Chief-of-Security to his side.

  “Sir?” Blaze asked, hurrying over.

  Rage pointed towards the hostile frontline. “That big bastard over there. The one with the beard – see him?”

  “I see him,” Blaze growled.

  “Isolate him. Shoot anyone who tries to get in your way.”

  “Yes sir,” Blaze said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “May I ask what we’re picking him up for?”

  “He wants to be a martyr,” Rage said, turning around slowly to face his number one. “So we’ll make him a martyr. Let’s show the good people of Hollywood what martyrs look like up close, shall we?”

  Chapter 7

  “Climb aboard guys,” Nolan said.

  The two dogs standing on the street stared up at Nolan who was sitting in the driver’s cabin, dressed in full Kowalski gear. The dogs were lingering a few inches back from the steel ramp, which extended from Goliath’s doorway like a silver tongue.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Just five minutes earlier, Nolan had found both dogs cowering in a coffee shop doorway on North Western Avenue.

  Despite Axel’s protests about wasting time he’d slowed the MBT to a stop. Nolan had then opened the folding doors and lowered the ramp, hoping that the dogs wouldn’t freak out and run off. The ramp had originally been designed for loading heavy equipment on and off Goliath while on location. Nolan figured it would let the dogs ease their way onto the MBT, rather than making them jump the step, which might literally be a step too far considering how scared they were.

  After that he’d called them over from the edge of the road. Nolan had stayed put in the driver’s cabin, doing his best not to make any sudden movements that would send them running. The dogs – two collies, one black and white, the other lilac and white, had responded to Nolan’s voice as if they knew him. As if there was something familiar about the way he talked to them. Nonetheless their approach was a cautious one. They crept low, hope and fear jostling for supremacy in dazzling bright eyes that reflected the fiery lights of Hollywood.

  They waited at the base of the ramp.

  “Good dogs,” Nolan said, staring through the front windshield. “C’mon. You don’t want to be out there tonight.”

  Axel stood further back in the aisle. Nolan heard the boy fidgeting like someone in desperate need of a bathroom break.

  “Nolan,” Axel said. “How long…”

  “Shhhhhh.” Nolan said, pressing a finger against his lips. “Don’t scare them.”

  “Yeah but…”

  “Shhhh!”

  Nolan reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handful of Diesel’s treats. Miniature dog cookies. Peanut butter flavor. He’d brought them to the Paramount party out of guilt, to make up for dragging Diesel out of the house and taking him to that godforsaken gathering.

  The sandy, dry texture of the treats brought a lump to Nolan’s throat.

  He quickly broke the cookies up and tossed the pieces onto the ramp. Most of the fragments rolled down onto the street.

  The two dogs kept staring at Nolan.

  “You guys come from a good home don’t you?” Nolan said, avoiding eye contact. “You want to trust people but you’re confused. Can’t blame you for that.”

  Nolan leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes and felt the vague sensation of exhaustion breaking into his mind like a burglar. Now that he’d stopped moving the thought of a long, dreamless sleep was tempting.

  He opened his eyes, batting away all thought of rest.

  “How long’s this going to take?” Axel said.

  “As long as it takes.”

  “Nolan, we really need to get moving if we’re…”

  “Relax Axel. This ride rides at my pace, not yours.”

  “Huh?”

  “Axel. That’s an unusual name.”

  “What?”

  “I said that’s an unusual name – Axel.”

  “I guess so,” Axel said. “My mom’s a big Guns ‘n’ Roses fan. Her claim to fame is that she can whistle all of Slash’s guitar solos. Every last one, every damn note. And some of those solos last for days man! I know all the songs, they were always on in our apartment when I was growing up. Yeah she’s the only black person I know who’s crazy for those old school white rock bands with the hair, heroin and screechy ass voices. So instead of calling me Slash, who’s half black by the way, she named me after all white Axl Rose. But guess what?”

  “What?”

  “She spelled it wrong. Couldn’t even get that right.”

  Outside the dogs inched closer. They didn’t seem interested in the treats but maybe, Nolan hoped, they’d realized that it wasn’t so bad inside the bus. Or maybe they smelled the cats.

  “You should go home Axel,” Nolan said. “You don’t know for sure that she’s gone. Nothing’s guaranteed tonight.”

  There was a pause.

  “My mom drinks gin like it’s water Nolan,” Axel said. “She’s been dead for years.”

  “Keep your voice down kid.”

  “Sorry.”

  Nolan glanced over his shoulder. “You don’t care if she’s dead? Your own mother?”

  Axel’s skinny arms hung loose at the sides. He stood in the center of the aisle, staring at the floor and shaking his head.

  “She’s better off man. Liver failure ain’t quick, that’s for sure. It probably would’ve hurt a lot more.”

  “You’re a weird kid,” Nolan said, turning back to the front.

  Before Axel could respond, the lilac and white collie crept slowly up the ramp. She ignored the cookie crumbs as she turned into the aisle. The black and white dog, a big male by Nolan’s reckoning, watched his companion and then followed.

  Nolan smiled behind the bandana. He continued to ignore the dogs and it worked. They moved warily past the stationary Axel as if he wasn’t there, approaching the apartment at the back. Their tails were low, almost trapped between their legs.

  “Leave those cats alone guys,” Nolan said. “Axel, fill a bowl with water will you? There’s cold water in the fridge and the bowls are lying about somewhere. Just put it down on the floor for them all.”

  “Sure.”

  Nolan’s fingers skipped over the dashboard, pulling up the ramp. Afterwards the double doors folded shut.

  He was about to drive off when he heard a strange noise at his back.

  Nolan turned around and peered down the aisle. Further back he saw Axel sitting on the couch, using both hands to pour the contents of a large bottle of Evian into a glass bowl on the floor.

  The kid was laughing.

  “What the hell?” Nolan said.

  Axel realized Nolan was watching him. It only made him laugh even harder.

  That kid is weird, Nolan thought. Seconds ago they
’d been talking about his maybe-dead mother. Now he was laughing like an idiot.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Axel called out. He shook his head. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid, just forget it man. This heat’s driving me crazy that’s all.”

  He filled the water bowl and pointed to the two dogs who’d been following his progress closely. The two cats were perched on a booth table, watching events unfold from up high.

  “Spill it kid,” Nolan said. “And I don’t mean the water.”

  Axel nodded.

  “Didn’t the animals come in two by two on Noah’s Ark?” he said. “You got two cats, two dogs and a fire flood outside. What’s next? Two elephants? Two Mexicans?”

  He was laughing all over again.

  “Jesus,” Nolan said, turning back to the front.

  “Nah,” Axel said. “Not Jesus. You’re cool and all Nolan but you ain’t quite at the Jesus level yet.”

  Nolan put his foot down. If he revved Goliath’s engine hard enough he’d drown the kid’s voice out.

  The silver MBT sailed along North Western at sixty miles per hour. Nolan stared through the windshield, every bit as focused as a hawk circling over a large wheat field in search of mice. He didn’t dare blink. The burned out cars, ransacked stores, the flaming apartment buildings – he drank in every last drop of scenery, discarding whatever was fruitless.

  A couple of times Nolan thought he saw MBT tracks on the asphalt. He stopped and went outside but on both occasions it turned out to be a mirage.

  There were still people chasing after Goliath, trying to get themselves and their families off the street. At one point, eight black people stormed onto the road, barely avoiding a collision with the giant steel bumper and the machete spears. Nolan swerved past them, honking the horn. He checked the side mirror as he put distance between them. They watched him go, a haunted look on their faces. This time nobody called after him.

  Nolan drove faster, an ever-tightening knot in his guts.

  Meanwhile Axel was hovering in the aisle, next to the driver’s cabin. Nolan could feel the boy’s stare on the back of his head. It was as hot as a laser beam.

  “Did you see how scared they were?” Axel asked.

  “Don’t,” Nolan said. “There’s no vacancy for a conscience on this bus. So save your breath.”

  “But did you see?”

  “Yeah I saw,” Nolan said. “Trust me Axel, if the shoe was on the other foot they wouldn’t have stopped for us either.”

  “You don’t know that,” Axel said, creeping closer to the cabin.

  “I know.”

  One of the dogs barked up the back. Underneath that, Nolan heard a long, sinister cat growl.

  “No fighting,” he yelled.

  The noise stopped.

  Nolan turned his attention back to the road. When he glanced over his shoulder, Axel was still standing there. He had that same pathetic look in his big eyes.

  “Christ!” Nolan snapped. “What’s with you kid? There’s a luxury apartment up there man, you know? You see that? A nice comfortable couch, some funky-looking booths, food and drink and a TV on the wall. And yet you’d rather stand in the aisle searching for my guilt buttons?”

  “They looked so scared,” Axel said.

  “I didn’t do it because they were black,” Nolan said. “You know that right? I hate all people equally.”

  “What’s going to happen to them?” Axel said. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Nolan slowed Goliath down to fifty.

  “I’m not a superhero Axel,” he said. “And I’m sure as hell as not Chuck Kowalski either. You’re old enough to know the difference between television and real life. Right? You realize what I’m doing here tonight? I’m going to kill a man. Two men. I’m going to take their lives – everything they have. And in order to get to them I’m probably going to have to kill a whole lot more. Men and women. Tonight, it makes no difference to me. You don’t want to see this kid. I don’t want you to see this. You’ve seen enough horror tonight already to give you nightmares for the rest of your life.”

  “I’ve seen worse,” Axel said.

  That made Nolan chuckle. “Tough guy huh?”

  “Tough enough.”

  “Right on,” Nolan said. “Well if you’re tough enough you don’t need me and Goliath to make it through the night do you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Axel said.

  Nolan nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Why don’t we make a deal? As soon as you get your girlfriend back you’re on your own. You and her. That’s if she’s still alive when we find her.”

  Nolan regretted that last part. He grimaced under the stuffy bandana.

  Axel whistled. “Wow,” he said. “It’s true what they say about you Nolan, isn’t it? You are an asshole. You really hate people don’t you? What’s that word I heard them say about you once? A misan…something.”

  “Misanthrope.”

  “Yeah,” Axel said. “I prefer the word asshole myself.”

  Nolan pointed at the windshield. “Take a look outside kid. You see all that fire? Smell the smoke? We did that. That’s the human race in a nutshell. Born in the Garden of Eden, died in a junkyard.”

  “Not everyone’s bad,” Axel said. “You’re stupid if you think they are man.”

  Nolan laughed, slamming the horn several times and making it sound like Goliath was in on the joke.

  “What’s so funny?” Axel said, his voice getting louder. “There are a shitload of good people out there and they don’t deserve this. They didn’t do anything.”

  “That’s right,” Nolan said hitting the wheel. “They didn’t do anything. When this country was going down the toilet they did nothing about it. And here we are. I’ll tell you something kid – I’m through pretending to be civilized. Fuck it. When I’m done with Rage tonight you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna grab a couple of six-packs, go up to the Hollywood Hills and watch it all go up in flames. Happy Birthday to me.”

  It was a long time before Axel spoke.

  “It’s your birthday?”

  “Nah,” Nolan said. “I just made that last part up.”

  Axel coughed, like he was preparing to give a speech.

  “I don’t really think you’re an asshole Nolan,” he said. “Despite everything, I think you’re still a pretty decent guy and all. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. And I dig your work man – that much is true. I read all your interviews and stuff.”

  “Those interviews are worthless,” Nolan said, staring onto an empty road. “I don’t give those asshole journalists anything. They don’t care about the truth anyway, only the story.”

  “Yeah I hear that.”

  Nolan peered over the edge of the cabin. “Wanna know something most people don’t know about me?”

  Axel’s face lit up. “Sure.”

  Nolan’s eyes went back to the road. “I’m a quarter Chinese. Did you know that?”

  “For real?”

  “Yeah,” Nolan said, laughing softly. “For real. My mom’s mom was originally from Hong Kong.”

  “You don’t look a quarter Chinese.”

  “Don’t have to look Chinese to be a quarter Chinese,” Nolan said.

  He reached for the dash and turned on the air con for the first time since he’d climbed into Goliath that night. It was hot under the Kowalski costume.

  Cold air blew through the vents. Nolan lowered the bandana, welcoming the draught onto his face.

  “When I was about eleven,” he said, “it got out at school that I had Chinese blood in my veins. I don’t know how it got out but kids being kids, they decided to make a big deal of it. So they called me names. I was the blond haired, blue-eyed chink. I was a shy kid too. Tall, but built like a piece of string. The other kids were cowards like all bullies. They’d follow me in groups when I was walking home from school, taunt me and then beat the shit out of me when I ignored them. That went on for a long time.”

  Axel tilted the Dodgers cap towards the back of his head. “Hard to imagine,” he said. “You getting bullied and all.”

  “It happened,” Nolan said. “It was the bullying that led me to martial arts in the first place. I read somewhere that a wise man once said ‘fear is a friend of exceptional people.’ Well I was scared and unexceptional. So I decided to turn that around by making friends with fear. I channeled its energy into becoming something else. In a way, becoming someone else. Just like when I put this costume on and step in front of the cameras I become someone else.”