“Goodnight,” he said and closed the RV door behind her. The rest of the Treefort was mostly deserted as the fires began to die down on their own. Most nights, there were a least a few people that remained around the fire and stayed up late talking and sharing stories. With Sullivan a day behind his return, there really wasn’t anyone who was interested in socializing.
He walked to his RV and stood outside, looking at the closed door. Nash knew Duncan’s time at the Fort was limited, so he took a deep breath and opened the door. The second he stepped in a heavy object slammed against him and knocked him onto the floor. He hit the ground hard, hardly having any time to brace his fall. The object that had slammed into him was his backpack, repacked by Duncan while he’d been sitting at the fire with Melissa.
“We’re leaving tonight,” said Duncan, who stood above him with all his belongings secured on his back and side. “Keep your damn mouth shut and get up. I hope you had your fun with that little bitch you’ve been hanging around with.”
Nash scooped up his backpack and scrambled to his feet. “Leave if you want; I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, you’re going, make no mistake about it. You’ve got no say in the matter. I told you when we got here that I say when we leave, not you. You’ve got ten minutes. Go bang one out with blondie before I do it myself.”
Nash stood in disbelief of the man in front of him. The cruelty and hatred that radiated from him was overwhelming. He said the only thing he could think of in the moment. “My mother would be so disappointed in what you’ve become.”
The words left his mouth and seemed to have grown and filled the entire expanse of the RV. Duncan stared back at Nash, stern-faced and stoic as he pondered the abrasive truth of the statement. He moved forward slowly, his muddy boots clopped loudly on the floor. He stopped in front of him and stared intently into his face.
“You’re right,” said Duncan, just before he plunged his fist deep into Nash’s stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs as Nash fell to the ground.
“Your mother was an idiot,” he said as he reached down and pulled Nash up by his shirt with both hands. Nash gasped for breath and used his hands to grab onto each of Duncan’s wrists. “And a whore!”
Duncan tossed Nash against the door of the RV, which sent it crashing backward as Nash tumbled hard onto the ground. His backpack came flying out of the open door and landed next to him as he lay on his side and tried in vain to regain his breath. Duncan jumped from the RV door and slammed his feet directly in front of Nash’s head, spraying dry dust and dirt into his face.
“Come along now, little faggot. We’ve got places to be!”
Duncan picked up Nash by the foot and pulled him behind. The noise had attracted attention from people in the camp as lanterns illuminated the RVs. The door to Melissa’s RV flung open in a fury as she leaped out.
“Stu! Dianna! Someone help, please!” she yelled as she made her way to Nash.
“No!” yelled Nash as he lifted his hand toward her to tell her to stop. She stopped where she was, holding a battery-powered lantern that revealed a look of horror on her face as Duncan pulled Nash behind him. As he finally regained his breath, Nash spun around onto his back and used his other leg and tried to kick Duncan’s knee, but missed and connected with his calf. Duncan screamed in fury and released his foot, which gave Nash time to back away on the ground a few feet.
“Where do you think you’re going, cocksucker?” bellowed Duncan as he grabbed onto Nash’s foot with more strength than before. Nash was almost completely depleted of energy, but with one final triumph of will, he slammed his free foot into Duncan’s mouth, splitting his lip and sending bloody saliva into the dirt.
Duncan lay on the ground a moment before he lifted himself back up to his feet. A long string of blood, saliva, and dirt hung from his busted mouth as he smiled the demented smile Nash hated. He could see through the blood and mangled lips that all of his teeth were somehow still intact and glowed back at him in the night. Nash readied himself to take another blow as Stu sprang forward and tackled Duncan to the ground.
Melissa was there in a flash, helping Nash away from them as Duncan and Stu wrestled for control on the ground. Dianna came running but flew past all of them toward the front of the Fort, which left Nash and Melissa with a second of confusion before they refocused on the fight in front of them. Duncan quickly gained the upper hand and was on top of Stu with his knees planted in the dirt.
“DING, DING, DING!” yelled Duncan as he pinned Stu to the ground and began pummeling him with both hands. A few people from the group ran forward to help, but were swiftly pushed aside by Duncan. It was if he was expelling the strength of ten men as people were flung away while he continued his assault. Stu’s face was bloodied in no time as Duncan continued to land blow after blow, letting blood and saliva flow freely from his busted lips. Duncan let his bloodied fists rest and leaned forward in front of Stu’s face. “I told you, Fatso; the day I leave, you’d have the best seat in the house.”
He raised his fist for one last vicious blow when a pair of strong, tattooed arms wrapped under his armpits. He tried his best to turn and see his captor but was unable to. Pain erupted inside his head as a gigantic hand grabbed a tuft of his hair and pulled him up slightly. He let out a piercing yelp when Sullivan’s massive fist connected with the side of his head with the force of a sledgehammer.
Chapter 12
Cole released Duncan from his grip and slammed him face first into the dirt. The realization that Sullivan had returned spread quickly through the camp as he stood over Duncan’s motionless body. Dianna swallowed the excitement of his return as she tended to Stu, his face a bloody mess from the attack.
“I’m so sorry Stu,” said Nash as he crouched down beside him. “I should have just left with him. I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, kid,” said Stu as he pushed himself up on his elbows. Melissa flicked on a battery-powered lantern to reveal that while Duncan had landed a significant amount of blows, he hadn’t done as much damage as they’d originally feared.
“There isn’t a person in here that would have let him take you away,” said Dianna while she helped Stu to his feet. Stu’s bottom lip had been split open, sending thick blood down his chin and onto his shirt. Dianna and Stu slowly walked together, heading toward the trailer they used as their medical area.
“Well let’s get the fire going again!” someone yelled. The crowd clapped in agreement, excited by Sullivan’s return.
“I appreciate it, but not tonight,” said Sullivan. He turned to the crowd. What was left of the firelight illuminated the dark circles underneath his eyes. Eliza and Cole had already moved off into the dark, heading to their beds for the night. “I don’t want to leave you all wondering so I’ll just tell you right now that we didn’t find anything about the shooter. There’s nothing out there. It’s quiet.” The crowd stood silent in the dying firelight, not knowing what to think. “The good news is, we did make it back with a lot of supplies, so I need some volunteers to help bring it all into camp.”
People moved forward to help, and Sullivan directed them to the outside of the fence. The five volunteers walked together with a lantern as Sullivan picked up Duncan and slung him over his shoulder in one swift motion. He reached across his broad chest and patted Duncan on the butt as his legs dangled in front of him. “It’s good to be home.” The crowd chuckled as he made his way through them and motioned to Nash with his free hand to follow behind him.
They made their way through the quickly dispersing crowd, Nash following behind while watching Duncan’s head bob up and down. Nash felt an overwhelming guilt over what Duncan had done to Stu and followed quietly behind Sullivan as they walked, not knowing what to say. They came to a stop at the trailer Duncan had been kept in their first day. He opened the door and tossed Duncan in without caution, letting his body crash limply to the floor. Sullivan closed the door and secured the lock.
“He’s
being exiled tomorrow,” said Sullivan as he double-checked that the lock was secure before he turned to address Nash fully. The prospect of no longer having to live with Duncan merged into reality with those four simple words. Nash stood quietly before the hulking leader of the Treefort before a dark fear pulsed through him.
“I can still stay, right?” he whispered softly. He couldn’t believe that the words had left his mouth, but the fear of leaving the Treefort and being shackled to an even more vicious version of Duncan had taken hold of him.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I assume you want to be there when he’s taken out to exile?”
“Yes,” he said. It was a simple but powerful response. He needed to be sure he was rid of Duncan for good.
“We’ll go as soon as you’re up tomorrow,” said Sullivan as he re-checked the lock a third time. “I don’t know what happened to start all this, but it’s not your fault. This was going to happen eventually and I’m glad it happened sooner than later.”
Without saying another word he disappeared into the darkness to find the rest he visibly needed. The trailer where Dianna had brought Stu was illuminated by harsh lantern light as three silhouettes moved about inside. He made his way through the empty Fort to join them. The door swung open on his approach as Melissa stepped out with a worried look on her face.
“Everything okay? I saw you leave with before I came in here.” She frantically inspected his face to see if Duncan had done any damage to him during the fight.
“I’m fine,” he said, smiling as she scanned his body for injuries. “He wanted to let me know that we’re exiling Duncan tomorrow.”
“Good,” said Dianna from inside, her voice muffled by the trailer. “That prick should be put down like the animal he is,”
“How bad is it?” asked Nash as he stepped into the trailer. Dianna had put stitches into Stu’s bottom lip, as well as both cheeks and chin. Bandages covered his cheeks and Dianna was gingerly applying the last bandaged to his chin. In the pale lantern light, Nash could see that his left eye was almost completely swollen shut.
“I’ve been better,” said Stu in his usual comical tone with a noticeable twinge of pain. Just hearing him speak sent waves or relief through Nash. “You’ll have to take my place tomorrow during the exile. I have a feeling I won’t be up to it.” He shook a bottle of painkillers in the air.
“Ok, settle down there, pill-popper. Let’s get you to bed.” Dianna closed her first aid kit and helped him to his feet. “You can use one of the empty RVs until you’re all healed up.”
Nash opened the door and helped Dianna and Stu out, Melissa following close behind. Dianna started to make her way toward the line of RVs as Stu leaned on her, but stopped and turned back toward Nash. “How is he?”
“He’s tired. Look over there and you’ll see why.” Nash pointed toward the front of the Fort. Situated on the ground were ten duffle bags, each almost bursting with supplies.
“Holy cow,” she whispered. “Just get those things into an empty RV for the night boys! We’ll go through it tomorrow morning,” she yelled to the volunteers.
“Yes ma’am,” said a gruff, southern sounding voice from the front of the Fort.
“Goodnight you two,” Dianna said as she continued into the darkness with Stu.
The fire still glowed lightly as they stood holding hands. Most everyone had retired back to their sleeping quarters, ready to sleep easy knowing that Sullivan’s group was back safe.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked, putting her arms around him as she nuzzled into his neck. “It looked awful. I thought he was going to kill you.”
“I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’m okay.” He stood holding her as the exhaustion of the evening took over.
The two of them walked hand in hand to toward the RVs, barely able to keep their eyes open as they moved. He started to turn toward her RV to escort her like he had before, but she nudged him toward his own RV.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to. Just get some rest.” She walked away, holding hands a little while longer so that her arm was outstretched before softly letting go. He stood watching her as she disappeared in the moonlight.
The door of his RV still remained open from when Duncan had thrown him through it. He closed it, having to now pull up slightly for it to latch, as one of the hinges had come loose. An eerie calm filled the empty RV as he released a silent yawn, ready to crawl into his bed. He knew that in time, there would be other survivors brought into camp and the RV would have to be shared, but he fully intended on enjoying his alone time while it lasted.
Duncan’s belongings were packed in bags on the floor from when he’d chased him from the RV. Nash collected them all, opened the door, and flung them onto the darkness outside. With the door open, he could see the trailer, which held Duncan illuminated as Sullivan held him down while Dianna stitched up his lip as best she could. It sounded to Nash that Duncan was still out of it, trying to curse at them as they worked but his words came out as incomprehensible gibberish.
Nash realized how surreal it was that the RV was now his alone. Duncan no longer had any claim to anything that belonged to him. He shut the door for the night with the knowledge that his life would be completely different tomorrow. He’d never contemplated life without Duncan and now that is was becoming a reality, he couldn’t be happier. He undressed and crawled into bed as flashes of his nightmare appeared in his head. He rubbed his eyes, shaking the images out of his head the best he could as he tried to fall asleep.
His mind was racing as he continued to try and force himself to sleep. The ceiling of the RV began to look as if it were moving as he stared at it. As he gazed up at the speckled design, the image of his mother appeared, which was something that hadn’t happened in sometime.
As much as he missed her, he was happy that she had passed before everything had happened to the world. He was even happier that she had never been around to see the monster that Duncan had become. Duncan was a mean-spirited, spiteful man, but he’d always retained some form of a sense of humor during their travels. It wasn’t until they entered the Fort that he had descended into the madness that now seemed to have overcome any goodness that had remained inside him. Remembering his mother’s smiling face, Nash finally drifted to sleep.
****
He was back in Melissa’s room, the dreadlocked slowpoke staring up at him from the yard outside. The slowpoke wildly pointed with both hands at the house, his wicked smile gleaming in the darkness.
A hungry shriek pierced the air, and Nash clapped his hands over his ears. Dozens of decomposing howlers flooded past the dreadlock-slowpoke and swarmed the house; their impact was enough to rattle the walls. Nash fled to the stairwell, and was greeted by the swarm. Clawing at one another, the howlers pushed forward towards their intended victim. Terrified, Nash rushed back to Melissa’s room and barricaded himself inside. He wrapped his hands around his stomach trying to calm his frantic breathing. He slowly backed toward the window, his eyes firmly set on the door – the hinges screaming against the weight of the howlers.
Strong, knife-like fingers dug into his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. It was Duncan, but not Duncan — his features twisted with rage, his eyes sunken back in his skull. He shoved Nash out the window, letting him dangle above the masses.
“You’ll never be done with me, Buddy Boy,” Duncan hissed, his bottom jaw unhinging and flapping against his chest. Nash clung to Duncan’s hands, fear clogging rational thought as he looked below him.
Staring up at him were familiar faces — the residents of the TreeFort looked up at him with hungry rage. Stu stood below him, tearing at his throat, blood gushing down his chest. Scott leered over Meghan’s limp body, covered in her entrails. Dianna kneeled in the grass, Sullivan behind her; ripping out her hair in sticky clumps. But the most horrific, was Melissa.
She wasn’t one of the dead. Instead, she was being tossed around, the dead ripping pieces of flesh from her body as sh
e screamed. Duncan’s broken mouth pressed against his ear.
“Never,” he hissed, the words slurred. And then Duncan let go, and Nash plummeted toward eager hands.
****
Far off in the distance of his thoughts, the sound of the RV door being unlatched echoed in his mind, followed by the soft sound of someone creeping inside. The footsteps of an unknown intruder pattered across the floor and moved silently toward him to thrust him into the throws of another nightmarish reality. In a moment of vibrant realization, his eyes opened to the silhouette of someone standing at the foot of his bed. Sleep induced terror grasped his mind: Duncan. He raised himself up onto his elbows, ready to fight, when a familiar voice eased his mind.
“It’s me,” whispered Melissa. “You sounded like you were having a nightmare.” He rubbed his eyes and squinted in the darkness, confirming that it indeed was her
“Is everything okay?” he asked as he sat up more. “What’s wrong?”
She crawled into his bed in silence, pulled the blankets down beside him, and slid inside next to him. With his senses still on high alert from the nightmare, he assumed Duncan had escaped and she had come to hide from him, but that thought washed away as her lips met his.
They rolled onto their sides, facing each other as they continued to kiss in the darkness. They kissed long into the night, holding each other close under the blanket until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was a long, dreamless sleep for both of them.
The best night sleep Nash had experienced in months ended to the sound of yelling outside. The bed beside him was empty. The bright morning sun had already begun to heat the inside of the RV, and sweat beaded on his skin. He flung the blanket off and scooted to the end of the bed. From outside one of the windows he could see Duncan pointlessly trying to struggle against Sullivan’s might as he kicked and yelled incoherently. Nash smiled, knowing the day had come. Duncan would be out of his life for good.
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