Calling the Shots

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Book: Read Calling the Shots for Free Online
Authors: Annie Dalton
Honesty would never have behaved like this. Occasionally, the guys passed around a brown paper bag, and took swigs from the bottle concealed inside. They jokingly offered it to Honesty, but she said scornfully, “Haven’t you heard? That stuff is illegal.”
    “I was just going to send Lenny to look for you. What took you so long?” Grace asked her when we eventually returned.
    “I was talking to some interesting people for a change,” Honesty said rudely. “You don’t think I’m going to stay cooped up in here all the way to Georgia, do you?”
    After lunch, Honesty went to sleep and I watched the vast landscape flow past. Occasionally a shabby little railroad town flew by. Ragged kids waved from the fields. Obviously our train was the big event of their day.
    Then, for no apparent reason the train began to slow down and eventually came to a standstill.
    At first, I thought we’d stopped beside some kind of massive garbage dump. Then I saw it was a little hobo town, a settlement of tumbledown shacks and improvised tents that had grown up beside the tracks.
    A couple of guys were having an argument. An older guy was slumped by a camp fire with his head in his hands. I could see his toes sticking through the broken ends of his boots. Dirty little kids ran around half naked, despite the cold. One of them was still just a baby. A woman was stirring a pot over the fire. She was so painfully thin that her shabby dress hung off her like a sack.
    Feelings of despair and desolation welled up inside me. The kind that make you go, “Why bother? This life is just too hard.”
    I’m an angel, though, so I soon sussed that these weren’t my personal feelings. They weren’t anyone’s personal feelings, in fact. Originally they were probably an evil freebie from the PODS. Now these deadly PODS vibes hung over the makeshift settlement like fog, and the wretched inhabitants had no choice but to inhale and exhale them with every breath. The PODS have some sick strategies for making humans do their work for them.
    The baby toddled up to the woman and pulled at her skirts. The train gave its mournful wail and she picked up the baby and turned to gaze at us as we moved off, as if all her hopes and dreams were leaving on our train.
    As the train gathered speed, I did something I should have done days ago. I got out my Agency mobile and called up the GA helpline.
    I couldn’t help smiling as I waited for someone to pick up. It would be so cool to say, “Hi, it’s me, I’m on a train!” Then I heard the helpline worker’s voice and went hot to the roots of my hair.
    “Finally!” said Orlando. “We’ve been expecting you to call for days.”
    Did it have to be him? I thought. Couldn’t I just once talk to Orlando when everything was going well?
    Then I reminded myself that I was a bona fide celestial trouble-shooter, and efficiently updated Orlando on everything that had happened.
    “I sit up all night, beaming her vibes,” I finished up. “But nothing seems to get through. She’s totally shut herself off from the rest of her family.” I swallowed. “I’m scared she’s going to do something stupid.”
    “You think she’s a suicide risk?” he asked.
    I felt a stab of worry. “I don’t think she’d deliberately—”
    Rose dropped her book with a crash. People were running out into the corridor. I looked to see what had got everyone so excited and gave an unprofessional shriek. “Yikes! I’ve got to go!”
    Thundering down a hillside towards us were hordes of Indian braves!
    As I reached the corridor a mob of cowboys came galloping out from behind the trees and started having a major shoot-out. Horses plunged and reared in terror, and cowboys and Indians fell sprawling in horrifically gruesome positions.
    This is terrible! I thought. People are killing each other, and I’m the only angel in the area. I must do something!
    Then an old truck came in sight with an old-fashioned movie camera on the top and I went

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