Linda Andrews - The Meltdown

“Tick-tock. Mission critical,” Falcon snapped. “Papa, you’ve been this route. Have the kid pee in a bottle or cup. We’ll dump it when we arrive.”

Asshole. “Roger that.” He turned down the volume of his earpiece. “Jillie, I need you to find an empty MRE bag.”

She cocked her head to the left. “Aren’t they in the trunk?”

“Empty ones.” They’d packed the trunk with Meals-Ready-to-Eat at the refugee staging area they’d found. It had been deserted, the stuff untouched, even by the rats. That just wasn’t natural. “Did you save your lunch bags like I asked?”

“Yep.” She disappeared from the rearview mirror. When she reappeared, she held the brown plastic bag. More bags, plastic utensils, a bottle and a wadded up napkin spilled over the top.

“I gots ta go really, really bad.” Toby wailed.

“It’s okay, Toby.” Jillie stroked his arm. “When are we going to pull over?”

“We’re not.” Papa forced his grip to loosen on the wheel. “Take the bottle out of the bag, uncap it and let him pee in it.”

Her face scrunched up but Olivia spoke. “Eww! Gross.”

“It’s necessary.” And it was only number one. The girls would probably try to climb out the window if he told them how to go number two. His daughters had threatened to call Child Protective Services if he ever made them poop in a can.

“Papa!!!” Tears glistened on Toby’s cheeks.

“It’s okay, Toby. We’re going to take care of it. Jillie!”

“Fine.” Tossing her blond hair over her shoulder, she yanked out the bottle. A fork, ball of cellophane and a drink pouch rained down on the carpet. “But I am so not holding it while he goes!”

“He can hold it.” Whether she referred to the bottle or Toby’s penis, he didn’t ask. The point was moot. “Undo your seat belt Toby and stand up.”

“Buts you said not to takes it off.”

“It’s okay. Just this once. For an emergency.” That should cover ninety-nine percent of the situations they would encounter. It may have been years since his children were that young, but he still remembered the twists their logic could take. He’d had the gray hair to prove it until he shaved his head.

Toby slithered under the engaged seatbelt and stood up, pinching the fly of his oversized pants.

“Oh, I can’t look!” Drawing her legs up, Olivia covered her face then set her hands on her knees. Dreadlocks slipped over her cheeks.

“Here.” Jillie shoved the bottle into his hands then turned toward the window.

“I’s not thirsty, I gots ta pee.” Toby accepted the bottle then held it to his mouth and threw back his head, catching a drop of water on his tongue

“No, Toby.” The car shook as it veered onto the shoulder. He quickly steered back into his lane. “I want you to pee into the bottle. Can you do that? Can you do that for Papa Rose?”

The preschooler held the opening to his eye then shrugged. “‘Kay.”

“Good boy.” He nodded in encouragement. Anytime now.

Setting the bottle on the seat, Toby shivered while raking the oversized tee-shirt above his tummy. He stuck his tongue between his lips and jerked on the rope holding his pants up. It didn’t move. His brow furrowed and he tugged again. Nothing.

Damn, he’d done too good of a job dressing the kid. “Jillie can you help him pull down his pants?”

Olivia giggled.

With a deep sigh, Jillie stabbed the release button. Her seatbelt retracted with a thump of metal against plastic. Rolling off the seat, she crouched on the floor, grabbed the fabric near Toby’s hips and yanked.

The pants puddled near his knees and the boy giggled.

Christ Jesus. Papa Rose pressed his thighs together. Was she trying to unman the lad? “Pee into the bottle, Toby.”

“‘Kay.” The preschooler swept it off the seat and pressed the opening against the length.

He lifted a little out of his seat. Oh, shit, they were about to have their very own golden arch. “No. No! Line up the holes.”

Olivia’s shoulders shook.

“Here.” Jillie plucked the bottle from his hands, inverted it and slid the plastic over Toby’s penis. With a jerk of her head, she pushed both down like a light switch.

“Easy!” He banged his knee against the dashboard trying to cross his legs. “That thing is attached.” And sensitive. Good Lord, what if it got stuck inside the bottle? Falcon and Brainiac would never let him live it down. “You could break it off.”

“Nuh-uh.” Jillie’s eyes narrowed.

Toby’s mouth opened as he released. Yellow streamed in the bottle and the cab filled with the warm, pungent odor of fresh urine.

“Honest.” He held up three fingers.

Olivia peeked at him through locks of hair. “Really?”

God, maybe he was scarring them for life. Then again, telling his daughters that a man might break off inside of them could have kept the boys at bay. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t lie about something like that. It would break the guy code.”

Jillie thrust out her jaw. “Don’t you mean the soldier’s code?”

She was a suspicious little thing. Her daddy must have raised her right. “This is one strictly for us boys. After all, some of our best soldiers are girls.”

Women. Ah, fuck political correctness. The world was ending.

Toby wiggled and jumped while pulling up his pants.

Wrinkling her nose, she held up the half-full bottle. “What do you want me to do with this?”

Setting his finger on the controls, he rolled down her window. “Chuck it out.”

Olivia’s head jerked up. Her dreadlocks swung back and forth, skimming her shoulders. “That’s bad for the environment.”

The environment was going to be royally fucked in a couple of days when the power plant blew up. But they didn’t know that. They didn’t need to know that. It was just one more bogeyman to chase from their nightmares. “Okay. Cap it, put it back in the bag and we’ll toss it when we get to Palo Verde.”

“Are the soldiers there?” Olivia asked.

None that were alive. At least, none had answered Mavis Spanner’s or the military’s calls. “We were on a mission when we found you.”

“I found you ,” Olivia corrected.

“Exactly. So we have to complete the mission and then we’re all going to join the soldiers.” Or what’s left of them. Thousands had died on their first and last night at camp. Maybe there wouldn’t be any left in three days.

“Heads up, Papa,” Falcon barked in his ear. “We got lights in the distance.”

Lights? People. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. People could take away the kidlets. Or… Hadn’t B said the meltdown might be a flash of light, not a mushroom cloud? His mouth dried. “Is it…”

“Hot damn!” Brainiac shouted. “The power plant still has electricity.”

He sunk into his seat. Thank God! They hadn’t arrived too late. “Toby, back in your seat. Jillie buckle up. Olivia, feet on the floor.”

Olivia’s bare feet hit the carpet with a thud and she leaned forward in the bucket seat. “I don’t see it.”

“There!” Jillie tapped the window. “Is that it? The place with the lights?”

“Let me see.” Instead of returning to his seat, Toby squeezed in behind the chair and pressed his face against the window.

“Toby! Get back in your seat.” What could the kid be thinking? He was traveling at over sixty miles per hour. Didn’t he know he could get killed if they hit something.

“I wants ta see.” The preschooler didn’t budge. “Oooh, pretty.”

“Now, you’ve seen get back in your seat.” His damp palms slipped on the wheel. The boy still hadn’t moved. “Jillie, help your brother back into his seat.”