Charlie's Requiem: Democide by Walt Browning, Angery American Read Free Book Online Page B

Weed said with a grin. “Let’s go huntin’ for some treasure. I heard that them boxes and transformers have gold and platinum in ‘em”
    Before Beker could even reply, the gangly man started jogging through the gate.
    The area was a salvager’s dream come true. The utility park was a collection of all the equipment and supplies needed to keep the electric grid up and running. A metal warehouse stood at the back of the yard, large enough for a truck or two to be stored inside, while to its side was a mound of 40 to 80-foot-long poles. The treated southern pine logs were stacked on top of each other like a gigantic pile of toothpicks. The yard had a patchwork of dirt lanes wide enough for the trucks needed to pick up and transport the massive electronics to get by. Large metal cans with electrodes were stacked on pallets in a haphazard pattern at the front of the yard. Some of the supplies were newly placed, while others had grass and milkweed intertwined within their workings. Dust and bird droppings coated some of the piles of metal and wire, while other stacks of equipment brightly reflected the rays of the setting sun.
    Weed ran amongst the workings like a child attacking their presents under the Christmas tree. The two of them made their way to the garage in the back of the yard, passing gleaming stacks of machinery. The door to the garage was held in check with a clasped Master Lock. Weed found a metal bar amongst the garbage scattered nearby, and pried the hinge and lock off the building. The doors slid sideways into recessed pockets, letting the evening light filter into the cavernous space.
    Weed let out a disappointed sigh when he discovered nothing inside other than some truck and automobile maintenance equipment and supplies. Cans of brake and transmission fluid were stacked on rusting metal shelving along with motor oil and some boxes of decomposing hardware.
    Weed, undeterred by his efforts, moved back to the dusty road where Beker stood.
    “Dude,” Beker said. “Let’s get going. It’s going to be dark in less than an hour and I want to get back to Taurus.”
    “Just keep your britches on,” Weed replied. “Won’t take but another minute to check them piles.”
    Weed began to pull parts and wires from a pallet nearby. He used his Beretta like a garden trowel, pushing aside some of the material to search underneath the surface of the stack.
    He turned his attention to one of the rows of cylinders heaped in a square section of the yard. A collection of large metal twenty-foot-wide brackets containing three flat, rectangular boxes bolted to the bracket’s frame were laid on their sides. From the top of each of the three boxes jutted three more large electrodes. They looked like something from an old Frankenstein movie. Beker half expected to see electric arcs dancing in the air between their tips.
    “Be careful, Weed!” Beker admonished his companion.
    “Easy boy,” the gangbanger replied with a smirk. “AIn’t been no power for over a week.”
    The thin man pushed at the stack, ducking his head under and around the alien looking contraption.
    “Ain’t nothin’ here!” He finally said. “You see anything like a place for gold or platinum wires?”
    Beker moved closer, studying the three boxes. Examining the electrodes, he was looking for a service panel or something that might hold his white brother’s treasure.
    Beker looked at the electrodes jutting up from the casings and noticed a plastic cap covering their tips.
    “Look there,” Beker stated, pointing to the cap that covered the tip of the contraption. The boy stood up and moved back a few feet to let Weed move into position.
    “Well, look at that!” Weed exclaimed. “Now why would they cover that! Bet there’s somethin’ under there worth protectin’”
    Weed leaned down and grabbed the metal frame with his right hand, and with his left hand, he stretched out and used the Beretta to lift the cap off the top of the rod.
    A