Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Cadaver Company ❯ Leaving On A Jet Plane ( Chapter 4 )

Cadaver Company

 

Chapter Four: Leaving On A Jet Plane

 

I'm not sure why, but for some reason the urge to glare at Heero's body was there and strong and I did it- no matter how petty it is to glare at a guy in a coma.

I sighed before getting out of the car and winced at the mess of Officer Yanko.

Whoever got him hadn't done a simple bump-and-dash. They'd actually run the man over. He'd….popped in places that made my sandwich threaten to come back up.

Silently, like I did most things now that I think about it, I crept over to the body and checked for a pulse- just to be sure. Hell, I'd thought Heero had kicked the bucket and he was sitting in my rent-a-car….in a coma.

I seem to be stuck on that one fact a lot. Hm.

Yanko was dead. I figure it's hard to live with most of the things in your stomach suddenly being outside your stomach.

I looked away as I dragged his body out of the middle of the road and rolled it down into the soggy ditch separating the shoulder of the road from the fields and sparse trees.

That took care of him for a while, but I've come to learn that people have the nasty habit of finding the bodies you always hope remain unfound for a while. It was practically a Murphy's Law that whenever a Gundam pilot stuffed a dead ozzie in a closet, another ozzie had to find him before said pilot could leave the base.

Now I only had a police car to deal with. Great.

With my luck, the cop had checked in before getting out of his car and dispatch was just waiting for his next call. I strode- because I'm too calm to stomp- over to the car and peered in the front seat.

It was empty and the lock took no time to jimmy. Some lady was squawking loudly over the radio as I tore out the dash camera and held it in my lap. The mini-computer that was on a swivel system between the two front seats was alive and buzzing

I noticed the blinking cursor and couldn't believe my luck.

Apparently Officer Yanko had gotten sloppy. He'd had our license plate number punched in but had not hit enter. For all dispatch knew, Yanko was out taking a piss or buying some doughnuts.

I ripped out the computer too. I wasn't taking any chances.

I tossed my pinched electronics into the back seat of my car- Heero still hadn't moved- and turned back to the cop car, thinking.

That ditch was pretty deep and this was one of those unpaved country roads people tended to avoid. If I got the angle right……

I locked my car door- paranoia at work there- before turning back to the cop car. It would be joining Yanko in the ditch if I had my way.

I kept my driver's side door open as I backed up the road, ignoring the squawking of the radio for more important things. Turning the wheel to the right, I hit the gas, waiting until the last possible moment to dash out my escape route. It was vaguely satisfactory to watch the bright white car topple over the end of the road with a tinkle of breaking glass and a loud splash.

There wasn't enough water to completely cover the car but the darkness of the night and the bottom of the vehicle should hold cover until I could get far enough away from the crime scene.

Returning to Heero, a well of irritation surged through my chest at the thought of having to take the fall for a death I had nothing to do with. I wasn't overly worried about fingerprints or DNA being of any use to the cops- I had no memory of my life before being a mercenary child and up until taking Heavyarms my name was Nanashi- no name.

I know first hand just how hard it is to find a person who, legally, doesn't even exist. I was safe.

Besides, I am a Gundam pilot- I'm sure covering up the murder of a cop is nothing compared to being a teenage terrorist.

I pulled away from the side of the road and continued down our route to Heavyarms. We'd lost nearly an hour with that stunt now- I'd have to drive all the way to the trucking company to get there on time. The urge to check on my Gundam was almost unbearable but I had set up perimeter sensors that were connected to my cell phone. If anyone even breathed wrong around my Gundam I'd know it.

For once the silence of the car was wearing on my nerves and I kept sneaking glances at Heero's still form. Was he breathing alright? Had his wounds been jostled and reopened? Could I catch any signs of infection with his body so far away?

I stifled another sigh- those were becoming common- before using my right hand to undo Heero's seat belt and lay him gently down on the bench seat of the car. I put his head on my thigh, checking his breathing and his temperature worriedly. It calmed me somehow to run my hand through his thick, messy hair as I drove. Heero's mere presence was doing for me what a good, long cigarette would do for a lawyer- my calm was back.

We stayed like that all night, even as I drove the bright, busy streets of the next town. Once I got that truck of fish and we were back with Heavyarms, I'd need to get Heero another drip set up and possibly put in a catheter. Things would be a bit more private in the big truck and when the trailer holding my Gundam was on its way to L3, I could start on getting Heero and myself there.

Amazingly, that would be the hardest part of this whole thing.

I would normally have just used Heavyarms to blast back into space but with an extra body- an extra injured body- that would be impossible. The thought of simply stealing a shuttle and leaving after I'd sent my Gundam had crossed my mind but I couldn't risk being followed with a comatose Heero or having Oz follow me to the circus.

It had to be the sneaky way or no way at all.

I took a risky stop at a gas station, grabbed some food and coffee before heading out to look for a suitable hiding spot for the car and Heero until I could get my truck.

I ended up stashing the car and pilot in an alley way about a block up from the truck lot. The lack of sleep was beinging to get to me- making me see some pretty strange colors- but I'd already decided I'd sleep later that night and when I got on the damn shuttle. I just had to get the truck and make sure I didn't get us killed before we got to Heavyarms. It would be really annoying to have gone through all this only to end up killing Heero myself.

Besides, the coffee had helped. Things weren't swaying so much.

I entered the tiny office building to see the typical stereotype trucker standing there in a dirty white, wife beater and a gallon of sweat simply pouring from his face.

I firmly kept my expression neutral as he grunted at me.

“Who`re you?”

“Trowa Barton. I've come to pick up the L3 Circus order.”

Trucker's eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall.

“You're early.”

I simply stared at him. The man had told me it would be ready in the afternoon. It was quarter to two- most people considered that the afternoon.

Sweaty Trucker didn't like my stare it seems- most people don't actually- and he reached for a pair of keys behind him. Then he paused and gave me a startled look.

“You smell like perfume. What kind of damn freak are you?”

I felt my EARS burn as I snatched the keys from his hand and signed the forms he gave me- something about being responsible for the truck and my employer was liable for anything I did while driving.

I left the office with thoughts of shaving my head and burning down all cosmetic shops in Tokyo. Stupid, damn rose scent STILL hadn't left my hair.

The tag on my keys told me my truck was parked in Space Eleven. It took nearly ten minutes to walk there. I had to size up my trailer before leaving. It certainly looked big enough to hold a Gundam but I couldn't be sure until I actually put Heavyarms in it.

I hoped up onto the little instep and into the cabin, feeling a bit more secure in my plans as I pulled out of the lot and headed back to get Heero.

……and nearly had a stroke when I arrived at the end of the alley to see a couple of teenagers trying to break into my car.

People who know me will tell you that I don't get angry easily. Very few things can shake my calm. Normally, this kind of situation wouldn't faze me. As it stood, I had already been having a significantly more stressful week- even worse than piloting a Gundam and fighting an improbably winnable war against Oz- and the sight of another possible problem was enough to make my blood boil.

I think I yelled. I know I cursed. Whatever it was that came out of my mouth made the two punks turn white and run, dropping their Slim Jim with a clatter. When my fury finally clamed to a manageable level, I was still panting slightly and there was a low buzzing noise in my ears.

Through it all, Heero slept like a fucking baby. I was struck by the sudden feeling of envy. If only we ALL could be in a coma when things got tough.

I grabbed him first and made quick work of setting him up in the truck's cabin. With my luck, the two punks would come back and end up taking his body with them if I did anything else.

Two trips later, we were on the road again and headed for the secluded forest that hid Heavyarms- barely two hours away. Heero's head was resting on my thigh again and there were no more interruptions. No sudden storms, no more demonic make-up ladies, no curious cop, no more murderous drivers. If anything the truck drive was somewhat anit-climatic. It felt more like a calm ride out to the country with a…..comatose friend. Dammit, that last part always messes things up.

My cell phone had been buzzing non-stop for nearly an hour as I carefully maneuvered my suddenly larger-than-life truck down a beaten path. It was large enough for me to pass without leaving any suspicious marks on the paint but the terrain was unsteady and very rocky.

I stopped us in a large clearing, one that looked to be the result of a large bomb having gone off years ago. It was very nicely covered from any overland sightings but spacious enough to move about if I was careful.

I stretched Heero out completely across the seat before sticking him with another saline drip. I really didn't want to have to deal with having a dehydrated Heero Yuy as well.

Then I left him covered in a blanket and started out for Heavyarms. I had covered my Gundam in the handy camouflage tarps the five of us had. Wing had needed it the most, being a bright white-silver color had made it a difficult mecha to hide.

Heavyarms had the colors of red and gold but I usually had no problems finding a decent place to hide mine until the danger had passed.

The trailer was filled it capacity with wooden crates I knew would be filled with ice chips and fish. They'd need to be removed until I could get my Gundam in there. Then I'd need to save a few for the fake-out and open a lot more. The cold trailer would keep everything…. cold enough- Heavyarms included- that any scans done at the space port would be of nothing but a large mass of frozen product. Once my Gundam was completely covered, any left over crates would be stacked up in front of the mess.

I knew I wouldn't feel completely at ease until Heavyarms was back onL3- the shuttle ride would only increase my worry. It was nice to know that once Catherine saw just who the shipment was registered to and from, she'll get the subtle message of just what was actually in it. She's smart like that.

I ended up using Heavyarms to pull all of the crates out of the back before crawling us into the trailer and quickly dismantling him. Perhaps quickly isn't the right word. It took nearly four hours and I had more scrapes and bruises than I'd ever thought possible. I almost lost my legs when the right arms was accidently dropped to the trailer floor.

I was left tired and sweaty in the end, but Heavyarms looked like a large mecha puzzle by the end of it. Now that I had the pieces of a Gundam ready to be put back together, I could cover it in ice chips and fish. I knew I'd need to give it a good cleaning when things finally settled down.

…..I wasn't the best fan of seafood and I had a slight allergy to tuna.

Unpacking fish is hard work. It's long, tedious and somewhat hazardous. By two in the morning my back was on fire and I had more splinters than a tree. I think I had frostbite on my hands. I was hungry, exhausted and somewhat dehydrated.

But I was done, dammit.

I drank two bottles of water and ate…something I had packed in my duffle bag before passing out on my side by Heero's still body.

Before sleep overcame me I vaguely wondered just when the boy next to me had become `Heero' and not just `Yuy'.

My shuttle was supposed to be leaving at four that afternoon. The space port was nearly three and a half hours away. I awoke at eleven thirty.

One look at my watch had me scrambling around Heero's form and nearly dragging him off the side of the seat with me. I landed on my hip hard, cursing a blue streak long enough to make Maxwell speechless before sliding into the driver's seat. Heero's head ended up in my lap and I gave his messy locks a run-through for good luck. Again that almost calm feeling descended over me as I started up the truck and began to pull away.

Little animals that had been eating the left-over fish, scattered at the noise I made as I began to back out of the trail we'd left behind. It didn' take as much concentration as I thought it would have and we were cruising down the highway.

It was refreshing. I broke a few speed limits. I never got caught. I had the wind in my bangs. Heero was alive. Life was….well, not exactly good but just- not as shitty as usual.

I arrived at the space port at quarter to three.

Heero ended up stuffed on the cabin floor with a blanket, duffle bag and back pack covering him and looking like nothing more than a trucker's pile of dirty clothes and junk. It really is quite amazing just what you can do to a person in a coma- things they'd never even know about.

I'm just glad Heero's so damn short. I couldn't imagine what would happen if the rolls were reversed. Of course, Heero would probably have left me somewhere if I had even survived blowing myself up so that's a bit of a moot point.

I needed to check in first before they unhooked my trailer and I got to find out if I was about to be arrested or get away Scott Free.

The girl behind the counter was one of those airhead types- way too flirty and way too under-worked. I gave her my papers. She giggled. She said my hair smelled nice. I glared. She `eep'-ed. I sighed. The entire process was one great big cause and effect chart.

Then it was over.

The only time I'd felt more relieved was when I realized Heero was actually still alive.

I tried to look like a disgruntled trucker as security and the space port shuttle loaders gathered around the trailer. Heat censors found nothing and metal detectors were rather useless on a metal box.

I nearly choked on my breath when they opened the back and shifted around a few crates. I pretended not to notice when they took one out and cracked it open only to find the ice chips and fish.

Then they loaded it back up, locked the doors and began to tug her away. It felt a bit like I was giving away a child- or having one taken forcibly from my cold, dead hands. I barely realized when I received my official notice of shipping.

The idea that Heero might be uncomfortable stuck curled up in the truck did come to mind, but I didn't leave the space port until Heavyarms was safe in the shuttle and the shuttle was jetting off into the atmosphere.

There, that was one less thing to worry about. Now I had to get myself and Heero off of Earth and for that I required something special.

I needed to get Heero Yuy a coffin.