Brimstone

by Peter van der Walt

  Draker pressed the gun into Brad’s chest – so hard that he could feel the barrel grating down on bone.

  “Why me?”

  “You killed my brother.”

  “The kid? Alex Keegan, who hung with McKay? I would tell you if I killed him, Brad, because he was worthy of being killed. He hung out with the loser McKay and he beat the hell out of Tina. Killing him would have been a civic duty, a public service. I hate to tell you this, Brad, but I never touched your brother. Your brother was killed by James McKay.”

  Brad just kept his eyes on Draker, betraying no emotion whatsoever. He underestimated Draker, and it made him furious. He wanted to destroy Draker now – but with limited options, he bought time letting Draker talk.

  He hated everything about Draker.

  “I didn’t kill Alex Keegan, Brad. You did all this for nothing. But then I suspect it doesn’t matter much. Because you don’t care about fairness. A guy like you – all you are about is having the time of your life, inflicting pain and enjoying it. Everyone in your life is a victim.”

  Draker took the gun from Brad’s chest, lifted it to scratch his own chin, then slammed it down in a wide arc, directly into Brad’s crotch. Brad screamed in pain.

  “You wanted to kill me? Torture me? Because you thought I killed your brother? I don’t buy that Brad. I think you will fuck, torture and kill anyone unlucky enough to cross your path. You’re a fucking psychopath. And you enjoy hurting people. Like giving up power gives me a high – like being controlled gets me off – you get off on inflicting pain and damage on people. You like to manipulate. You like to control people. You like the pain you cause.”

  Draker moved the gun to Brad’s left knee. He pressed the barrel down until Brad’s knee was trapped between the gun and the bed.

  “Why do you think I killed your worthless piece of shit brother?”

  “My mother told me.”

  “She had bad information.”

  Brad said nothing. His games wouldn’t work. Not with this guy.

  “I see a guy who acts before he thinks. Who is all about himself. Who came into my life and messed me up. And now wants to hurt me and take my life from me. What should I do about that, Brad? What should I do?”

  Brad said nothing – but the humiliation was too much to bear. He raised his head from the pillow, jutting his chin forward. Daring Draker to shoot him.

  Draker seemed to consider it.

  “You want me to shoot you? Why? Because you think that’s what I do? Killing anyone who gets in my way? Anyone who debases me? Makes me feel vulnerable? You think I’m like you?”

  Brad shut his eyes. He needed to think. Come up with some sort of plan.

  “I tell you what. Why don’t you lie here and think about your life choices, and your delusions of superiority for a bit? Because you are wrong about the kind of guy I am. Because you got me off once, you think you know me. You don’t know shit, boy. You don’t have the faintest idea. I need to go talk to someone to come and pick you up.”

  Brad watched as Draker walked from the cabin, dialing a number and bringing his phone to his ear.

  Draker was outside for what seemed like an eternity. When he returned, Brad decided to act vulnerable.

  “Please,” Brad begged. “Please let me go. Please.”

  “Honestly, Brad. You whine like a bitch. I just called an old friend of mine. He is the Chief of Police here in Fairbridge. He says he knows you. He is on his way, with an ambulance. He is going to take you into custody, and he is going to get you healed up nicely. Well, as nicely as he can. I’m not sure if we have the medical science to actually fix something like you.”

  Brad screamed out in anger. He couldn’t play games with this Draker guy.

  “Of course you will serve some time – some real time, this go around. In general population too. Parole violation. And assault. And rape.”

  “Rape?”

  “You raped me, didn’t you?”

  “You wanted it.”

  “You’re right yeah. I did want it. I wanted it because I thought you were a person. I thought I could let myself go a bit, put someone else in charge. But I didn’t know you were a psychopath. Now I do. So, you could tell me I wanted it, and between you and me, because of my own issues, maybe you’d even be right. But no one else knows that. And I’m not telling. In fact, I’m going to be in court and put up a very moving story about how traumatized I was. Also, the assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm might make it to attempted murder. I’d bet it will be more than 38 months on the inside this time. I’m thinking five, six years. Maybe more. Of course, the guys in genpop aren’t the same guys you are used to in Devens. And I bet when they hear how eager you are to give gay guys like me what they want, they’d let you practice. What do you think?”

  Brad rocked himself back and forth, pushing against his restraints. But all it did was cause him pain and make his mouth gush more blood.

  Draker got off him, and sat down next to him on the bed. Not facing him, but looking at the floor, as if he was looking for something he lost or dropped. Almost casually.

  “If you didn’t kill my brother then who did?”

  “James McKay. Not just your brother, but a whole hell of a bunch of decent people. McKay did it, Brad. I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t even kill McKay. I just stopped him. For good.”

  Draker stood up and crudely wiped Brad’s mouth.

  In the distance, Brad could hear multiple sirens approaching.

  “I’d rather die than be caged,” Brad said.

  “I’m sure you would. I would, if I were you. I’m sure you may think of me as quite the power bottom. But boy, are you going to be the expert by the time genpop’s done with you. Tell you what, if you ever get out, come see me again. Maybe I can fuck you for a change. You’d be wide enough to take a mule by the time they let you out. But understand that the next time you see me outside of a courtroom, you will not make it out of the encounter.”

  Brad spat.

  “Yeah. Pity. You were so beautiful. Funny, and smart, and fun to be around. Too bad you’re a fucking psychopath.”

  “Please. Just kill me here.”

  “Nah. I’m done killing. Did a lot of it in my day. Not like you. For my country. For a cause that mattered. For getting rid of dictators and tyrants and bad, bad people. Never liked it much. Did it because I had to. But I don’t have to kill you.”

  Paul turned and looked into Brad’s face.

  Then he rested his forehead on Brad’s a little bit. Before softly landing a kiss on his cheek.

  “What a waste,” he said.

  The door to the cabin opened, and Chief Hannah stepped through the door along with several uniformed officers, guns drawn.

  “It’s under control, Chief,” Draker said.

  “Put your hands up, step away from the bed, turn around, and kneel. Do it now.”

  Draker obeyed.

  Hannah searched him for weapons.

  Hannah’s hair was standing all over the place – as if he rushed to get here straight out of bed.

  “What the fuck, Draker?”

  “Don’t know what you want me to say, Chief.”

  “Seems like trouble keeps finding you.”

  “I have no idea what you mean, Chief.”

  “Yeah. Right. McKay.”

  Draker said nothing.

  Four uniforms were on Brad, and they untied him and cuffed him at the same time.

  Hannah put his gun away, and Draker stood up.

  The two of them looked at Brad as he was being stood up next to the bed.

  “Your fucking cages won’t hold me,” he spat at both of them.

  As the uniforms took him outside, he heard Hannah say to Draker:

  “Are you okay, Paul?”

  “Never better Chief. Neve
r better.”

  Epilogue

  Open Road

  Two weeks later and the first snowfall covered much of the burnt landscape surrounding Loveday. It snowed enough just to cover the earth, and then it stopped.

  Despite the winter arriving, the sun was shining. Not enough to melt all the snow on the mountains, yet, but enough to drive. Because Tina was actually heading out. Every now and then, the sun would break through the clouds, as if it was picking a spot to bask in some golden light, before disappearing again or moving on.

  Paul stepped into the open space in front of his office cabin, two mugs of coffee at the ready, the growl of Tina’s Harley Davidson purring around the bend. He leaned back against the cabin, putting Tina’s cup to the side and taking a big swig of his own.

  Tina rolled in and parked. She had her side and saddlebags neatly packed – and a special guitar case had been fitted to the Harley.

  He noticed the new Steel Woolfs body art on the Harley. That had been the name of Tina’s band, back when Deb Henderson was still around.

  When she removed her helmet and Paul saw she’d been growing her hair. For as long as he’d known her, she pretty much wore a buzzcut. Now she let it grow a bit. Also, where she always wore her hair peroxide white, this time there was some auburn showing at the roots.

  Seeing those parts of her come through warmed Paul’s heart. She dressed the way she did because in many ways, butch dyke was a uniform. Something she perhaps needed to wear in a world that always seemed determined to dish out punishment.

  They hugged, and somehow, out here on this day, her hug seemed stronger. It was as if she had grown a little less frail. She also held on so long that Paul started feeling a little uncomfortable.

  For a moment she was stronger than him again, like she was when he was a scared shitless little kid who just lost his last relative.

  She was as strong as she’d been back then when he was a just a young little gay boy with no one and with nothing. How she helped him find his feet, he didn’t know. Nor did he know just how many young men owed their lives to her.

  How many kids did she lift up like that? Only she and God knew. And how many meals did she serve to customers, and how many for free?

  “Tina. If someone deserves to just go and have a break, it’s you. And here you are spoiling the moment because you worry about me.”

  He gave her a cup of coffee, and they sat down on the steps of the cabin.

  “Kid,” she said. She was still the only person in the world who called him that. “What did he do to you?”

  Paul looked at the snow in the distance but answered immediately, so she would have no doubts: “Nothing I didn’t let him, Tina. I’m okay, really.”

  She searched his face for deception, and finding none, still asked:

  “Really?”

  Paul was amazed at how much he used to trust facial expressions himself, before all this. But he really was doing well and meant it.

  “Really.”

  She rubbed his arm.

  “Okay. But you’re not getting off too easy today, kid. It’s going to be at least six months before I get to give you an ass-chewing again. I plan to make this cup of jub count.”

  Paul laughed.

  “I can see why you choose to live out here. It’s peaceful.”

  She looked at the marks on his wrists, and the bruising around his neck that was only now starting to fade.

  “You say you let him do that to you?”

  Paul nodded.

  “So, you into kink, or what?”

  Paul shook his head.

  “Talk to me, kid.”

  “I don’t actually know what it’s about. It was something that happened between him and me. You won’t see me repeating it for fun. Some bad folks out there, and the worst of them bring out the worst in me, I guess”

  “You fell for him?”

  “I did.”

  “And I told you to go and put yourself out there! Jesus…”

  Paul took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “No. Not on you. This shit is not on you.”

  “What happened then, Paul?”

  Paul wasn’t sure how much to share. But he might as well say everything, seeing that he wouldn’t see her for quite some time. And if there was anyone in the world he could talk to about anything, it was Tina.

  “Alex Keegan. You remember him.”

  “That’s the little fucker that kicked the shit out of me just before Pride.”

  “Yeah. His half-brother was Brad Jensen. He was in prison for rape. He came out here because he believed I killed Alex Keegan.”

  Tina shook her head. She said nothing, but he could see her wondering behind her poker face.

  “I didn’t. I wasn’t even there when it happened. James McKay killed him on the side of the mountain. He was identified by his clothing. Wore a big target on a white shirt. Ironically. James McKay killed him. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “So why blame you?”

  “Who the hell knows? His mother seems to be some kind of hardcore mountain folk, could be something she said. Could be something he just believed. Could be something someone told him. Could be damn near anything – including his own sick mind.”

  “And the plan was?”

  “The plan was to kill me.”

  “And by the looks of it you damn near let him.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure, Tina. Maybe I have some issues I have to deal with. I’ve made some appointments with some people I can talk to. Because things can’t go on the way they have for a big chunk of time now. I hit the ground running… and then life happened quickly and confusingly and without me having enough time to figure out how to process everything. Mom. Reuben. Some pretty bad memories that don’t want to go away. And as I go through life trying to get myself sorted, trying to figure it all out, I happened to run into a predator who already had me all figured.”

  “For the life of me, Paul, I can’t understand why you are so hard on yourself all the time.”

  “I’m not innocent, Tina. I did something to James McKay that might be unforgivable. I could have killed him, or handed him to the police unharmed. Instead, I took away his ability to see, speak, move his limbs. I locked him inside his own hellish mind. That’s worse than death. It was an evil thing to do. And I’ve done similar things while I was in the military. I’m no angel, Tina.”

  “How many people did McKay kill? Across the country and right here in Fairbridge. People we knew and cared for.”

  “Doesn’t excuse what I did.”

  “Just keep it to yourself.”

  “No. I confessed already. Not just to you. I told Chief Hannah.”

  “What the fuck did you do that for? No, Paul. No.”

  “He’s not investigating the McKay matter anymore, he said.”

  “Well good for him. He sees something in you that even you won’t allow yourself to see. You’re not a bad guy, Paul. Even despite what you did to McKay. And how you handled this Keegan son of a bitch proves it too. But I’m worried about why you let him do so much to you.”

  “Jensen. He wasn’t a Keegan. I deserve it. Punishment. Release. Escape. It’s impossible to know everything about our own minds and hearts. It’s not always clear to me why I want what I want. Or what it is about someone that brings out something… unhealthy in me. Some people can read us better than we can read ourselves. Maybe Brad Jensen could give you the deep and meaningful answers. I sure couldn’t. Not without lying, or making shit up.”

  “You don’t feel worthy of love?”

  “It’s not that deep, Tina. I don’t think about it like that. It’s not about deserving. Anything as solid as that. I just feel, and like everyone else I trust what I feel. And that’s sometimes tricky. It’s easy enough to stand
up to the abusive parents, or the bible-bashers, or the fucking politicians when they make you deny what you are. It’s easy to fight the bad guys and the terrorists and the pirates. It’s easy to conquer any conflict you are in. It just a lot less clear when you invite the wolf through the front door yourself.”

  Paul surprised himself when he hurled his cup of coffee far into the clearing. It shattered on the ground, yards away.

  “You pound away at all the baddies, then go home and let them in the door yourself. Invite them in. Give them a piece of you. Really care for them. And then they kick your ass and go. Taking parts of you with them. It’s sucky. But it happens.”

  Tina said, “You deserve someone that loves you unconditionally.”

  “I’m a grown man, Tina. Nobody owes me anything. I had my unconditional love. My mom loved me like that. You did. Reuben did. Three times is about as much as any guy can ask for.”

  “Three times is still rookie. And me and your mom don’t count. Reuben counted. But you deserve another real shot at love. At least a few times more. Don’t retire yourself before you are ready.”

  “Hard to find compatible people. For straight people or gay people. Makes no difference. Sometimes it’s just a bad match. Some guys are boring. Some are too chilled. Others too eager. Others just weird. It’s a big world out there and romance and relationships can go any way, on any day, from any side. If you want philosophy – we need to do it over a beer, and you need to hit the road soon, risking more snow. And I don’t like beer.”

  She laughed at that. “You’ve had tons of beer with me.”

  “And I loved every second of the company, but not a single drop of the brews. Not my thing. Sorry.”

  Tina laughed.

  “Well, Paul. I know I’m probably not the right guy to give guys advice on guys, since I’m a woman who is into women. But I’ve been around this big gay world of ours long enough to pick up a trick or two. And I have an idea that might just work for you.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Squirrel hunting.”

  “What?”

  “Squirrel hunting. Ever try to catch one? You can’t, the little bastards are too quick. If you chase them, they always get away. The trick to catching a squirrel is to find yourself a nice cushy spot beneath a tree. To put some of your trail mix in your hand and keep it out there so they can see it. And then they’ll come to you. And you’ll have your pick of the litter.”