cold, thin air: Volume 2

by C. K. Walker

  We pulled Kimber up off the bed and quickly realized that her legs could barely support her. She was heavily sedated and breathing weakly. We braced her on either side and moved as quickly as we could through the nearest doorway – away from Jimmy.

  We were in another dorm, though this one was filled with mostly empty beds. I could see sunlight shining through the door at the end of the long room and we raced toward it as Kimber made little cries of pain. I didn’t think my heart could break any more but I was wrong because in the next moment it shattered into splinters.

  I almost dropped Kimber when I saw her staring at me. Her eyes were hollow and uninvested and when I turned toward her, she looked away immediately as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.

  “Whitney.” I said weakly.

  “Sam, let’s fucking go!” Kyle screamed.

  “I can’t.” I turned toward him as tears ran down my hot cheeks and Kyle saw her too.

  “I can’t…I can’t stay,” Kyle said, still moving toward the door. “I have to get Kimber away from here. Please…” But he knew I wasn’t going anywhere now.

  “Good luck, bro.” I said and then we were both running in different directions.

  Whitney’s hair was long but it was thin, as was her face. Everything on her looked brittle except for her stomach which bubbled out from her like an overblown balloon. She refused to look at me and flinched at my touch as I tried desperately to unbuckle her from the bed. I hadn’t even finished the first belt when I heard Jimmy walk up behind me. I didn’t bother to look at him or stop trying to free my sister. I didn’t know what else to do.

  “I admire your grit, kid.” Jimmy said, and then sat down on a bed behind me and continued to watch, giving no objection to what I was doing. “You probably think your friends will get away but there’s no sense in false hope, is there?”

  “There’s no sense in any of this.” My voice sounded frail and it cracked over the last word.

  “You’re wrong about that,” Jimmy sighed. “But just so you know, I’ve got Clery out there looking for them already. People make a lot of noise coming down off this mountain, trust me on that.”

  “Sheriff Clery?” I was desperate to keep him talking, anything to keep him from trying to stop me.

  “Oh, yeah. You know he was supposed to retire from the business but unlike the previous sheriff he kept a few horses in the race.”

  “Horses?” Nothing made sense.

  “Yep.” Jimmy slapped the bed next to him. “We call these buildings the stables,” he laughed.

  I dropped the last buckle on the floor and looked down at Whitney. I expected her to spring up and run toward the door while I went after Prescott but all she did was rub her wrists and itch her collarbone. Then she put her arms back where they’d been, turned her head away from me and shut her eyes. I slumped down onto the bed next to her and picked up her cold hand. If she wasn’t leaving here neither was I. It was over. I sent a silent prayer up to a God I didn’t know and wished my friends safety.

  “Do you want to know what this is, Sam?”

  I shrugged. It didn’t seem to matter now.

  “You should know, this might all be yours someday. You see, it’s all about the babies.”

  I stared down at Whitney and her swollen belly but gave no indication I was listening.

  “You wouldn’t believe how much money is in the industry. I mean, my dad was a smart man. And he knew we didn’t have anything of value to sell and back then the Prescott’s were dirt poor out of work miners just like everyone else in town. He first got the idea when he sold my older brother off to pay for the legal fees to fight the city. I mean, some people will pay five figures for a newborn, you know, even back then. And the organizations that buy them, well, they buy in bulk. But we still make a killing off them. And our overhead is very low as you can see.”

  Jimmy stood up and pulled a gun out of his waistband, then threw it on a bed across the aisle.

  “You know, try to understand, Sammy, it’s not just about the money. We use the stables for community services, too. Lots of people in town come to us, you know, ever since the incident in the 50’s.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to be here, listening to this, I didn’t want to see Whitney so broken and I didn’t want to wait for inevitable death. It was torture in its purest form.

  “What are you waiting for, why don’t you just kill me? This isn’t a James Bond movie, I don’t care about any of this shit.”

  Jimmy laughed loudly as if it was funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Kill you?! Christ, kid, if I could than I already would have, but I’m not allowed to kill you. I’ve been trying to decide if I want to fuck your sister right in front of you though. She’s not one of mine but it might be worth it just to see your face.”

  “Just- just kill me and let her go. Fuck, I’ll kill myself if you let her go.” I stood up from the bed and Jimmy took two steps toward me and punched me so hard in the face that I thought I heard my cheekbone crack. I grunted and fell back down on the bed, fighting the stars and tears behind my eyes.

  “I can’t let her go, you little fuck. She’s got one of our community service babies in her. Grace says she’s got another week to go, two tops.” Jimmy looked down at Whitney and frowned. “She’s been puttin’ out shit babies, though, and as soon as this one’s out of her she’s got a date with the Shiny Gentleman.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I yelled at him and a loud ringing suddenly filled the room. Jimmy held up a finger and pulled a phone out of his pocket.

  “I gotta take a business call. Two minutes and we can get back to our conversation.” Jimmy walked over to a corner of the room and I desperately started to pull on Whitney.

  “We gotta go. We gotta go, Whit, we can’t stay here.” She kept her eyes shut and her body lax. “Whitney, they’re going to kill you!”

  My head whipped toward the door as I heard a truck skid in the dirt just outside of it. Jimmy ended his phone call and Killian Clery walked in, pushing a limping, bloody Kyle in front of him. “Lose something, Prescott?”

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “Couldn’t find her.”

  “Goddamn it, Clery, you fucked us. Go back out there and find that girl!” Jimmy snatched his gun off the bed and shoved it into the back of his waistband.

  “Now listen here, you little shit,” Clery growled. “I ain’t your fucking employee and I don’t have all fucking day to play Hide and Seek in the woods. I’ll telling you she wasn’t with him so I guess if you wanna know where she is you should get it outta him!” Clery threw Kyle down on the floor and spit near his feet.

  “I gotta do your fucking job now?” Jimmy walked over and without any hesitation kicked Kyle so hard in the ribs I heard some of them snap inside his chest. I tried to stand up but I was still dizzy and still fighting off the darkness. “Where’s your girlfriend, Landy?” Prescott raised his boot and then stomped down hard on Kyle ankle. He screamed in pain. “I can do this all day, kid.”

  Clery sat down on a bed across the aisle and lit a cigarette, watching impassively. Jimmy pulled Kyle to his feet and then punched him hard in face. A few of Kyle’s teeth scattered across the floor. “Tell me, you little cunt!” Jimmy punched him again in the face and Kyle went limp.

  “You’re killing him!” I screamed and jumped off the bed, running blindly toward Jimmy in a red rage. Clery stood up and caught me with no effort at all, holding my arms down at my sides. He laughed, cigarette still tucked into the corner of his mouth as I struggled helplessly against his chest.

  Jimmy had straddled Kyle by now and was rapidly punching him in the face and chest. Kyle was barely conscience and I prayed he’d pass out from the pain. After a full minute of this Jimmy stood up and rubbed his bloodied fists. “Last chance, Landy.”

  “Fuck you.” Kyle said through a wheezing, rattled breath of air. Jimmy spat on him, raised his foot up as high as he could and brought it down on Kyle face with so
much force that I heard his skull break. I sagged in Clery’s arms and he dropped me into a puddle at his feet.

  Jimmy bummed a cigarette off Clery and they stood next to Whitney’s bed, watching me cry. “Jesus, what a mess.”

  After a few minutes Clery flicked his cigarette out and pulled out his phone. “Alright, Sam, take your friend.”

  I couldn’t have heard him right.

  “Fuck that, that little Landy shit ain’t leaving here.”

  “You wanna clean this mess up, Prescott?”

  I stood up and my knees didn’t buckle beneath me. “I’m not leaving without my sister.” I told them. Jimmy laughed.

  “Yes, you are,” Clery said. “If you want to save your friend’s life. He ain’t dead yet, Sam, but he will be soon.” He tossed his keys at me. “The road off this mountain is back by the refinery.”

  I let the keys bounce off of me and fall to the floor. Clery swore at me. I knew he was right. I was a coward and I would leave my sister and all the others here just so I could get away and save Kyle’s life.

  I picked up the keys and then, without looking at the two men, I grabbed Kyle by his shoulders and his head rolled back as if it was no longer attached to his spine. His face was a collage of pulp and blood and I struggled to stay calm and breathe as I dragged him out of the building. Clery and Prescott watched me, taking drags off their cigarettes and saying nothing. I knew they were probably lying to me; Kyle would be dead by the time I got down the mountain if he wasn’t already.

  I opened the door to Clery’s old Ford and pushed Kyle into the passenger seat, wincing as his head rolled around like a ball on a string. It took me almost an hour to get down the mountain, even though I took the overgrown road at ridiculous speeds and did everything I could to destroy the shocks on the truck. I sped into the hospital’s emergency zone and found a medical team waiting inside the door. It was clear that they’d gotten a call to expect me because they already had a crash cart with them and an IV ready to push into Kyle’s wrist.

  I left Clery’s truck where it was and spent the next two hours in the waiting room, calling my dad over and over again and crying over an Architectural Digest magazine. No one came to take a statement from me or ask me any questions. Kyle’s mom arrived just before my dad and started screaming as soon as she saw me. My dad walked in behind her and had a deputy restrain her. He drove me home in silence but I couldn’t take it for long.

  “Is anyone going to file a police report? Does anyone even fucking care what happened?”

  “Sam.” He didn’t turn to look at me. “I am doing my best to do damage control on the situation but if Kyle dies or his parents sue, there’s nothing I can do to keep you out of court.”

  “You think I did this?” I screamed at him.

  “We’re not going to tell your mother. Alright? She has enough to worry about.”

  “Dad, it’s- I- Kimber- it was fucking Prescott! And Sheriff Clery!”

  “Yes, you arrived at the hospital in Killian’s truck. We already talked to them both.”

  I was so frustrated and full of rage that my next words came out a jumbled, stuttering mess that ended in a helpless scream. We pulled into our driveway and my dad turned off the car and finally turned to look at me as I struggled to catch my breath.

  “Samuel, we will never speak of this again. Do you understand?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Dad? Kyle might fucking die. I saw Kimber-“

  “Enough! If you want this to go away you will keep your mouth shut about it, make no statements to anyone and I’ll hire the best lawyer I can afford to clean up your mess, but you’re not going to college until next year. I don’t know why you beat your best friend almost to death and frankly I don’t want to. You-“

  “Fuck you!” I screamed at him and threw open the door to the cruiser. I ran then, away from him and the house and my broken life. He didn’t come after me. Not that day or any other.

  Since everyone in town thought I was a violent thug no one would let me stay with them when I called around. I eventually went to a motel far outside of town and drained the last of my savings from work paying for the room.

  I went back to pick up my car from the trailhead, but it was gone and I hoped it was Kimber who had it and not a tow yard. I read the paper every morning for some mention of Kyle’s condition. I saw the Daley's birth announcement about 10 days later. They had just had a son that they named William. The whirling, twirling, Shiny Gentlemen lit up the valley with its stench and song of death that same night and Whitney was gone. It was the last time I ever heard it.

  I stayed in Drisking long after the money had run out and I was sleeping on the concrete behind the motel. I stayed until Kyle was released from the hospital; a mute, empty-eyed, soulless vegetable. I went to see him once, while only Parker was home, and threatened him until he let me inside the house.

  When I had assured myself that the Kyle I knew was dead and only his empty husk remained, I left his house and hitchhiked out of town. And after I spent four drunken, drug-fueled years in Chicago, I came home one day to find a letter waiting for me. It didn’t have a return address but it was postmarked California.

  I knew it was from her before I’d even picked it up. She’d written so many of my assignments for me that I knew Kimber’s handwriting better than my own.

  Inside it was a letter. The letter. I read it only once, many years ago, until I sat down to transcribe it today.

  My Kimber,

  I need to tell you some things before I go. I know you aren’t going to understand why we did the things we did. Please understand, it was all born out of love, at least it started that way. You’re everything to me and you’ll always be my daughter. Do you understand? And I’m leaving this world because of what I’ve done to you, not because of what you are. I don’t want you to be upset about what you are. Because WHO you are is beautiful.

  My love, this town has done horrible things. And all of us who live here are guilty. Read this letter and leave this place.

  I need to tell you all of this. I need to start at the beginning:

  Somewhere along the way, decades ago, the major population of Drisking became unable to bear children. Most people blamed the town for letting the iron ore leak into our water table during the collapsing of our mines.

  This is the same water table that still provides the town’s water today. They were never quite able to fix it and ore is toxic and exposure causes infertility. The town did, and still does, suffer greatly from its effects.

  And the Prescott’s, they solved the problem that no one could solve. It was an ugly, crass solution but most people were happy to look away when they were able to raise families again. You see they took girls, mostly women from other places, and they impregnated them and gave us their babies.

  And the town came under the care of Thomas Prescott when he started to “sell” some of the babies on the side for a profit to rich couples. And the Sheriff, he helped him do this. But then an ugly rumor started that they were selling to human traffickers. And the Prescott’s had to offer triple the price for girls. And in town, we began to murmur. But we once again turned the other cheek when the city was suddenly flooded with money because of how well the traffickers paid. People had well-paying jobs again and were proud to call Drisking home. So we said nothing and those that did were taken to the mountain.

  Because that is where they do it. There is a place on the mountain where the women are taken, Kimber: Drifters, runaways and, if their parents choose it, sometimes the girls in town are even sold back. They arrange to sell the girls and they meet them at a tree halfway between our town and their baby mill. Sometimes kids play there now. I think you played there.

  The Prescott’s and the Sheriff are the ones who impregnate the girls and the children are named after them. P children for the Prescotts and K children for the sheriff. And then when the women become too sick or too old to deliver profitable babies they are sent through a giant machine th
at was used to refine ore. They call it “the Shiny Gentleman”. Their bodies are crushed and the blood and skin stripped away and what remains of them are their stolen children and the dust of their bones. And all that’s left of their bodies is the powder that they spread over the mountain to hide our crimes.

  I’m telling you this, Kimber, because you are one of those children. Most of your friends are one of those children.

  Please get out of Drisking before your father finds this letter. Run away and never come back and never speak of it to anyone. Their industry has deep roots now and the traffickers have lofty connections. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t keep this letter. Don’t look back.

  I love you. I’m sorry I have to leave you. We all have to answer for our sins and I’m ready to burn in hell for mine.

  Love always and forever,

  Mom

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  C.K. Walker lives in Salt Lake City, Utah where she skis, hikes and travels extensively in between her nightmares. For new stories and content please visit: https://www.facebook.com/pages/C-K-Walker/1503387386575559.