The Upside of Death

Stuck inside of Sedona. Part 17

The guy at the Flagstaff Airport car rental counter was buttoned into a burgundy shirt he must have hated. "You staying someplace nice?" he asked, eyes fixed on Zach's bruises.

"Heading to Sedona, haven't booked anywhere yet," Zach replied, signing the places marked on the rental form.

"Beautiful place. I took one of them vortex tours last weekend." The guy accepted the form back. "You know, where you go to places where unseen earthly lines of power intersect and create uplifting energy channels. In this cute pink Jeep."

"You get uplifted?"

"Kinda felt better the next day. Can't expect lots of change overnight. May I see your driver's license?"

He'd forgotten about his license. The one now in the possession of the Russians. "Um, I forgot to bring it. I work for the Chicago Post, we use your company all the time and I've rented from you guys before. It should be on record."

The guy had the grace to look sorrowful. "I need to see a physical license, sir."

Zach knew the rental guy wouldn't, couldn't budge from his position. He had no authority to override the rules without getting fired. "Okay, my bad," Zach said. "Where can I find a cab?"

The rental guy smiled with relief. He must have been expecting an angry outburst. "Happy Stan might still be outside. He's got the green Prius cab, he'll do right by you."

Do right by you. What did that mean? Zach wondered as he walked outside to the green Prius. Like, not stop halfway to Sedona and demand more money to complete the journey?

"Can you take me to Sedona?" Zach asked the Prius driver. The guy was over sixty years old, with a mustache stolen from Yosemite Sam. A six-pack could balance on his gut. Easy.

Happy Stan gave him a languid appraisal. "It's hundred bucks. In twenties, in advance. No funny shit on the way or I throw you over a cliff, and there's plenty to choose from."

"Do I look like trouble?"

"You look like you've already had a dust-up today and you might be angry enough to try for seconds. I can handle myself, you know."

Zach touched the side of his face and winced. "It was an industrial accident. I'm a very placid guy." He pulled out some bills and handed over the hundred. "Any good motel in town."

The Prius pulled away without a sound, the gasoline motor kicking in as Happy Stan turned onto the A89 heading south.

"How long will this take?" Zach asked from the back seat.

"Under an hour, unless you want the scenic tour."

"Is that quicker?"

"It's the same route. I just slow down and open the windows so you can smell the pines, marvel at the scenery."

A comedian. "Never mind. I'd rather marvel at my destination, sooner rather than later."

Happy Stan wasn't joking about the scenery. Startling red mountains jutted skywards, ponderosa pines clustered at their bases. The sinking sun spotlighting the reds and oranges and ochres like God's own light show. The road switch-backed downhill most of the way, steep cliffs on one side, sheer drops on the other. Plenty of places to toss a pesky customer out of the cab.

"You ever think of all the evil in the world?" Happy Stan asked.

"That's a big topic," Zach replied. "I'm too shallow to grasp it." Hoped the guy got the hint and shut the fuck up. He didn't.

"Used to be that if the actions of the corrupt were exposed, the aforesaid corrupt jackasses were shamed and resigned." Happy Stan shook his head. "Not now. The fuckers stay in office and try to brazen things out. Hell, some of them even enjoy their new celebrity." He looked over to Zach. "You notice that?"