“Nash, this is Melissa! Our food truck extraordinaire,” said Dianna, who easily picked up on the awkwardness that washed off Nash in waves. Melissa looked to Dianna with a confused smile as Nash continued to stare at her.
“Hey, wake up sailor!” Dianna put a large hand on Nash’s shoulder to shake him. “She’s not that pretty!”
“Hey!” said Melissa, who reached through the window and smacked Dianna in the shoulder with a giggle.
“Sorry,” said Nash as he looked at Dianna with a bashful smile. “I’m pretty exhausted and hungry. Guess I zoned out for a moment. I’m Nash.”
“I know,” she said with a smile as they shook hands through the window.
“We’ll let you get back to what you were doing, Mel. Just wanted to grab Nash some food before he settles in for the night.”
Nash was back to staring at Melissa as she smiled back at him.
“Come on, Casanova,” said Dianna. She pulled Nash by his arm and winked at Melissa as she led him away. “You two will have plenty of time to get acquainted.”
The two walked back to the RV as Nash continued to make sense of his introduction to Melissa. It now made sense why Sullivan had taken issue with the picture he’d found in his backpack. He looked backward at the truck hoping to get another glance at Melissa, as if she was a figment of his imagination. The window was still open, but she had returned to the inside of the truck to continue her work.
“She’s cute isn’t she,” said Dianna with a smile as they came to a stop at his RV.
“I feel like I need to tell you something,” he said with worried eyes. “I don’t want Sullivan to tell you before I have a chance to explain myself. I don’t want any problems here.”
“What is it, sweetie?”
“When Sullivan found us, he went through our bags before leading us here. I had a picture of Melissa in my bag.” Dianna listened as he spoke, her face still jovial but showing small signs of worry. “Duncan and I had stayed in a house a few nights ago…her house. I stayed in her room and it was a complete disaster. There was blood everywhere, things were turned over and torn apart. I’d just assumed she was dead. I saw this photo of her and for whatever reason I took it with me.”
They stood silent together as the worry melted away from Dianna’s face.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” she said as she pulled him in for a hug, which he hadn’t expected but appreciated. “I saw the way Sully interacted with you. He trusts you already. You’re going to fit in here just fine.”
Dianna released him from her embrace as Nash locked his eyes on the trailer he’d seen Sullivan deposit Duncan in earlier. He was surprised at how quiet Duncan had been during his time in captivity.
“We’ll keep an eye on him. It’s not your job to take responsibility for him,” Dianna said, noticing the worried look on Nash’s face. “This place is peaceful and happy, but it’s that way for a reason. We have safeguards in place; anyone who we think poses a threat to what we have here, we watch very closely.”
“It’s not going to be easy with him, I can tell you that.”
“I’m sure Sullivan made it clear to him what’s expected when it comes to living here. I’m not worried, and you have nothing to worry about. Regardless of his behavior, you can stay here as long as you’d like.”
Nash saw the light turn off in the food truck as Melissa left and walked toward the fire. She joined an elderly couple and handed them both a snack before she sat between them.
“All that blood in her house…” said Nash as he watched her smile and talk with the couple.
“It was her mother’s. Her family had survived in their home for a while, but her dad eventually got bit. Melissa and her mom barricaded themselves in her bedroom, but it was just a matter of time before he found his way to them. Her mom tackled him and he tore her apart, giving Melissa enough time to escape.”
“That’s horrible...”
“We found her living inside the food truck at the RV dealership. Sullivan found her on the last run to bring the RVs here. She didn’t come out sooner because she was scared, so she’s lucky that Sullivan took an interest in Juan and his big sombrero. I don’t think she would have lasted much longer on her own. She cried for days after we brought her back here.”
They watched her in silence for a moment. Every time he’d seen Melissa, she’d had a smile on her face. Nash was astonished at her demeanor, given everything that had happened to her.
“When did Sullivan build this place?”
“It’s been here for just over a year. I was the first person he found to bring back here. For a while it was just the two of us, the fence, and one of the army tents.”
“Are you two...?”
“Well that’s a damn good question, isn’t it,” said Dianna with a smile as she watched Sullivan walk along the fence. “When he first set up shop here, yeah, we were something. As we started finding more and more people to bring here, our relationship took a backseat as we focused on keeping people safe. He has a strong sense of responsibility to keep everyone here safe.”
Nash watched as she followed Sullivan’s continued inspection of the fence. He could tell that she had more to say but she didn’t.
“Look at me; I just met you and I’m blathering on about my love life! I’m gonna let you turn in. That’s my subtle way of saying I desperately need to turn in myself.”
“I’m more than okay with that,” said Nash as Dianna let out a booming yawn.
“Goodnight sweetie, sleep as long as you’d like. We’ll do grand introductions tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Goodnight to you, too,” he said.
“Goodnight, sweetie,” said Duncan from the holding trailer. His voice was muffled but Nash easily picked up on his mocking tone.
He stepped inside his RV and shut the door behind him. The inside was comfortably warm and the walls were still filled with the flickering lights of the fires outside. He thought about going back outside, saying hello and meeting some of the people around the fire, but the rumbling in his stomach was more insistent.
He opened the bundle of food and found a bag of barbeque flavored chips and quickly devoured them. The can of processed ravioli didn’t last long either as he used his fingers to scoop out the contents into his mouth. He found himself thankful he was in the privacy of his RV as he licked the ravioli sauce from his messy fingers. He downed a bottle of water quickly, a trickle of water running down his chin as he gulped. Bottled water was something that he and Duncan had always had trouble finding so it always felt like a treat. He’d sipped from enough puddles, creeks, and lakes that he knew the value of a small plastic bottle of water.
He stuffed the empty can and bottle into the chip bag and placed it on the floor. The bed at the end of the RV looked inviting and he made his way to it as fast as his weary legs would allow. He stumbled slightly as he peeled of his shoes and shirt, chuckling a little as he regained his balance.
“Come on, Buddy Boy, almost there,” he said to himself as he lurched toward the bed.
The fact that he had talked to himself in a manner that he was used to hearing from Duncan had not eluded him, but he was too exhausted to examine the reasons for it. He climbed into bed, let his head crash heavily against the soft pillow and fell asleep instantly.
Chapter 8
Nash stood in the empty RV with his face buried in his hands. He wept softly as tears rolled warmly down his wrists. His mind was lost in a sea of anger as he squished his toes in a large pool of blood that had formed around his feet. His chest was bare covered with deep lacerations which he had dug himself in the midst of his madness.
The inner walls of the RV were alive with intense firelight from outside, contrasted by deep shadows that danced along the walls like a sadistic ballet. Through bloodshot eyes, he could see that the Treefort was completely ablaze with faceless shadows that ran from side to side as they tried to escape the licking flames of the wildfire. The sounds of their scr
eams did nothing but fuel his anger as he released a nightmarish screech into the emptiness of the RV.
The door of the RV flew off and sputtered across the flaming ground as Duncan leapt inside. His chest rapidly pulsed as he filled the space with his rotten, boozy breath. He stood with his legs spread wide and wore no clothes except for a single shoe on his left foot. His stomach had been cut open and his entrails hung loosely in front of him, a trail of gore behind him. He smiled with a face full of demonic anger, his features twisted like a reflection in a funhouse mirror.
The two stood facing each other as they screamed and tore at their flesh. Nash dug his fingers deep into his skin and pulled apart muscle fibers underneath as blood continued to flow wildly from his self-inflicted wounds. Duncan put his fingers into his mouth and pulled hard at the corners. His demented smile widened as the skin split across both cheeks with a wet, tearing sound. It seemed like a competition between the two to see who mutilated themselves to the fullest.
From across the Treefort, a scream echoed loudly above all the rest like a piercing alarm. The two men looked at each other and released a collective squeal before they lunged for the door. Duncan reached it first and kicked Nash backward with a splash of blood before he bounded gracefully into the night air. Nash tripped awkwardly in his attempt to leave the RV and fell hard onto the ground with a thud. Dirt coated his open wounds as he lay on the ground, spitting saliva and blood into the dirt as he pushed himself to his feet.
Shadowy forms ran panicked throughout the Fort as Nash and Duncan searched for the source of the scream. At the other end of the burning Fort, Melissa stood trapped inside the food truck as she feverishly tried to escape. Her hands were bloody as she smashed her fists against the glass, tears running down her face.
Nash and Duncan took off in unison toward her, running at full speed, not breaking stride. Duncan’s innards still hung from his abdomen, which sent splashes of thick blood onto them both. Nash tore flesh from his chest and gnashed his teeth wildly as they closed the gap between themselves and the food truck. The look of fear on her face filled Nash with a burning hunger.
Duncan pulled ahead just as they reached the truck and catapulted his body against the window. Melissa ducked as the window shattered inwards, showering the inside of the truck with pieces of jagged glass. The impact had caused monumental damage to what was left of Duncan’s abdomen. Fresh blood gushed onto the truck and cascaded down to the ground like a crimson waterfall. His legs kicked wildly as he stretched his body and laced his fingers in Melissa’s hair as she wailed in fear.
Nash echoed her scream as he grabbed onto Duncan’s knees and pulled with all his strength. Duncan let out a gurgling, bloody whine as Nash pulled him from the window, pulling Melissa partially out with him. Duncan and Nash fell backward onto the ground and left a string of Duncan’s guts still wedged underneath Melissa as she tried to force her way back into the truck. Nash pulled her out of the window and threw her to the ground in a heap and leapt on top of her before she had a chance to escape. He saw the veins in her neck pulse, but there was something else that had drawn his attention away; a small strip of red cloth was tied around his left wrist.
He leaned forward to bite her as a pair of hands wrapped around his ankles and pulled him away. Melissa shot to her feet and stumbled into the forest, leaving Nash behind in the dying Treefort. Duncan stood behind him like a ghoulish mirage, his chest and abdomen torn completely open. Nash could see Duncan’s exposed heart beating wildly while the fire continued to flicker around them. Nash clawed at his eyes, blood and tears merging on his face. Duncan’s outstretched hands locked onto his forearms and dragged both of them into the fire, screaming as the flames licked up their tattered bodies.
****
Nash jerked awake with enough time to brace himself for impact as his head smashed against the floor of the RV. Tears immediately filled his eyes as he returned to consciousness.
“Stay out of my bed, asshole,” said Duncan, climbing into the bed.
Nash ignored him, taking slow deliberate breaths. He listened to Duncan snore as images from his nightmare replayed in his head like a macabre slideshow. He curled up for a moment on the ground and cried quietly while Duncan’s snoring continued to fill the RV. The hatred and anger that had coursed through him as he sprinted toward Melissa made his skin crawl and left him wondering if that’s what it actually felt like to be one of the dead. He shook the phantom memories from his head and focused on the flames from the fires outside still flickering on the walls. He wiped tears from his eyes as new ones materialized. He couldn’t understand why he had dreamed so vividly about killing Melissa. He’d barely even had a proper introduction to her, but he decided, in that moment, that he would never let anything happen to her. He would protect her as long as he was able.
After a long, vain attempt to fall asleep, he stood and stretched with his arms above his head letting his muscles stretch and pop. He could see Sullivan through the window, standing alone at the fire. Nash knew he’d be unable to go back to sleep with the nervous energy that flowed through him, so he decided to go outside. It was better than listing to Duncan snore.
He slid his pants and shirt back on and took time to verify the gouges in his chest were just memories. The door clicked softly behind him, but loud enough in the quiet night that it made him pause to make sure Duncan didn’t stir. The sound of loud, uninterrupted snoring affirmed that he was in the clear.
“He woke you up didn’t he?” asked Sullivan as Nash made his way to the fire.
Nash dug his hands into his pockets and looked back at the RV. He half expected Duncan to come crashing out with his innards hanging loosely in front of him. “A little bit, yeah. I wasn’t having the best night’s sleep anyway.”
“Most people don’t start the nightmares until they are here for a while.”
“How’d you know I was having a nightmare?”
“For starters, you look white as a ghost. It happens to most of us here, myself included. Something about safety in this world brings out the worst in our subconscious. When you’re out there surviving, it’s hell every day. My guess is that our nightmares are a reminder of what is outside the fence, and what can happen if we aren’t vigilant.”
The two of them stood in silence for a moment as they watched the fire crackle and burn. Nash turned his eyes from the fire and looked at the food truck. A sheet of relief fell over him to see it was not smashed and covered in blood.
“Earlier you had mentioned the red cloth around the dead woman’s wrist,” said Sullivan as he pulled one out of his pocket. Nash watched as he worked the fabric between his fingers.
“Before we started running from the sniper, we found a slowpoke with one tied on his wrist too. What do they mean?”
Sullivan continued working the fabric in his hand, staring into the fire as he did. “I have no idea. We’ve been seeing them for a while. Outside of you and I, only my security team knows about them. I’d like to keep it that way until I have a better idea of what they mean.”
Nash nodded in agreement as a man approached them from the fence. He was short, with balding hair and a thick Fu Manchu mustache. He wore an old pair of blue jeans, both knees cut open, as well as a tattered AC/DC shirt that clung tightly to his large potbelly.
“We have a few spots on the north wall that need to be fixed, but everything seems mostly in order,” said the man as he handed a clipboard to Sullivan and joined them at the fire.
“Thanks Stu. This is Nash; he and his…”
“Stepdad is fine,” said Nash.
“Stepdad it is. He and his stepdad Duncan joined us today.”
“Ah, yes!” said Stu as he reached across Sullivan and shook Nash’s hand. “I saw the three of you come in earlier. He seems like he could be a handful.”
“That’s putting it lightly. He’s all about appearances though. He’ll be a regular Mr. Rogers while here.”
Stu laughed loudly, his hands on his belly as it jigg
led under his black shirt. “We shall see, won’t we? Should be pretty quiet for you, Sullivan. I’m gonna turn in.”
“Thanks Stu. Get some rest.”
“Nice to meet you Nash! Looking forward to learning lots from Mr. Rogers!”
“You should have seen him when he first got here,” said Sullivan as Stu disappeared into the darkness. “He’s a big guy now, but six months ago, he was easily a hundred pounds heavier. He’s lucky we found him when we did because the area outside was thick with dead ones, and I don’t mean the slow ones. What did you call them earlier?”
“Slowpokes. I’ve been calling the aggressive ones howlers.”
“Howlers? That seems appropriate.” He stood up and slid his gun-strap over his shoulders. “I have to start my nightly rounds.”
“Do you go outside the fence?” Nash stood with him.
“Not at night, unless a situation calls for it. Typically, I’ll just patrol the fence, making sure it’s in good order and listening for any activity in the woods. Care to join me?”
As much as he wanted to join Sullivan, the nervous energy from the nightmare had finally begun to dissipate and he was starting to feel somewhat tired.
“I should probably get some sleep.”
“Tomorrow then. Find me after you’re up, I’ll show you around.”
“Thanks, I will. Have a good night.” Nash turned and walked away, his hands in his pockets as he released a wide, open-mouthed yawn.
“Don’t worry about Duncan,” said Sullivan from behind. “My security team does more than just patrol the border. We’ll have our eyes on him, but if there’s anything going on behind the scenes that we aren’t seeing, please let me know.”
“I will,” said Nash.
He gave Sullivan a small wave as he turned and walked toward his RV. The amount of kindness he’d felt from the people of the Treefort in the short time he’d been there was overwhelming. The knowledge that he’d no longer have to rely on Duncan settled over him and he was ready to embrace what the Treefort community had to offer.
This Land of Monsters Page 5
