This Land of Monsters

by Tim Gabrielle

  He thought back to the night before, the feeling of Melissa lying next to him as he ran his fingers through her hair. The smile on his face widened until the thought that he’d imagined the entire evening crept its way into his head. A wave of disappointment settled over him until he noticed a small bundle of food on the corner of his bed.

  Wrapped together with a bow was a small box of cereal, a pack of Pop Tarts, a chocolate granola bar, and a large bottle of water. There was some assorted fruit as well, all swathed together with a heart drawn on the silver package of the Pop Tarts. His hunger eclipsed the sentiment of the gift as he opened the package of Pop Tarts and devoured them quickly, followed by the fruit and granola bar. He placed the cereal aside, deciding to eat it later before he took a few sips from the bottle of water, leaving the rest for throughout the day.

  He took the empty package of Pop Tarts and placed it in one of the zipper compartments of his backpack. The small heart drawn on the side was her first gift to him and he wasn’t about to toss it aside. He dressed quickly and stepped out into the bright morning light. From across the Fort, he could see Melissa at the food truck as she dispensed food packages to a long line of people. They shared a quick smile before he was brought quickly back into Duncan’s lunacy.

  “You hear the news, Buddy Boy? I’m shipping out!” Sullivan applied a pair of handcuffs as Duncan wiggled to make it as difficult as possible. “Things are getting kinky over here, pal! Why don’t you go get that little girly of yours and meet me in the RV!”

  “You shut your damn mouth before I pull those stitches from your lip,” Sullivan said calmly, pulling upwards on the handcuffs, which sent blasts of pain into Duncan’s arms.

  Duncan’s face was puffy from his scuffle with Sullivan and his shirt was covered in blood. He’d woken up before everyone and torn all his clothes to bits, yelling like a madman and mocking Sullivan and Stu throughout the night.

  Dianna joined Nash as Sullivan moved Duncan toward the front gate, gripping his forearm tightly as they walked.

  “It’s a fresh start for you today, sweetie,” she said, standing next to him. She exhaled deeply, a sound full of stress and relief. “This is a first for us.”

  “I’m so sorry for everything he’s done,” said Nash, watching as Duncan said something to a passerby. Sullivan shoved him forward, almost tripping him in response.

  “Enough of that honey. He’s not your responsibility. We all knew it from the start. He’s his own kind of monster, and he’s not our problem after today.”

  The two of them walked to the front of the Treefort where Sullivan was waiting for them. Eliza had joined him and held a large duffel bag as well as Sullivan’s enormous rifle, which hung loosely around her back. He considered going to say a quick goodbye to Melissa, but with the line for food having stayed the same since he last looked, the two of them exchanged a bashful smile as he moved toward his soon to be exiled stepfather.

  “Oh he’s coming?” exclaimed Duncan loudly at Nash’s approach. “What about Tubby? How’s his face feeling after last night?”

  Duncan fell to the ground in a fit of laughter as Sullivan pushed hard against his back. He laid on the ground and squealed like a pig, blood starting to seep from the stiches on his lip as he rolled on the ground.

  “Just get him out of here,” said Dianna as Sullivan pulled Duncan up from the ground by his handcuffs. Duncan erupted into a loud screech of pain as he was yanked upwards.

  Duncan fixed his eyes on Eliza with a smile. “You coming with me, sweetheart? I bet we could have all kinds of fun out in the wild.” Sullivan wrapped a blindfold hard across his eyes as another screech of discomfort roared out of Duncan’s mangled mouth.

  “Let’s go,” said Sullivan, letting Eliza and Nash lead the way as he trailed behind.

  Eliza wound them through the woods on a predetermined path, each of them with a bag of Duncan’s belongings on their backs. Eliza purposefully moved through the woods in directions they never intended to follow, simply to disorient Duncan. They reached a small bridge at the creek that rose only a few feet above the water. It was far away from where Nash had encountered the slowpokes the day before, but it reminded him that he still needed to talk to Sullivan about what he’d found. Their boots echoed loudly on the wooden bridge.

  “Close your legs, sweetie,” said Duncan from behind as the smell of the shallow, murky water below hit their nostrils. “Or don’t, actually. I think I like it.”

  Sullivan pushed Duncan hard off the bridge and sent him splashing into the dark water below. He went in face first and quickly rolled himself over, gasping into the air as fresh lacerations appeared on his face from the shallow creek. Sullivan jumped off the bridge, his boots landing in the water on each side of Duncan’s torso. He knelt down over him, their eyes inches apart as the two of them angrily glared at each other. The sounds of birds chirping and the steady flow of creek water filled the air as he stood over Duncan in the water and waited for him to make a move.

  “This is your final warning. Anything else from you and I will gag your mouth with dirt until we’re ready to be done with you for good.”

  He pulled Duncan from the water and back onto the bridge before motioning to Eliza to continue farther into the woods. Nash had expected Duncan to press his luck for the remainder of the walk, but he was pleasantly surprised when he stayed quiet for the rest of the trip.

  The temperature rose quickly as they left the shade of the tree canopy. A black SUV sat dormant along a winding dirt road that stretched endlessly in both directions. Eliza opened the hatch and each of them threw Duncan’s belongings in without a care, letting them fall on top of themselves like dirty laundry. Sullivan placed a bag of provisions in the back to leave with Duncan at the exile point. Dianna had spent a good portion of the morning trying to get him not pack the bag, but in the end Sullivan had insisted this was an exile and not a death sentence.

  Eliza and Nash got into the middle row, shut the doors, and sat behind the dark tinted windows. The SUV looked and smelled brand new, with black leather seats that matched the exterior paint. The inside of the vehicle felt like a hot box as they waited for Sullivan and Duncan to join them inside. Sullivan opened the passenger side door and gruffly pushed Duncan inside, attaching his seatbelt across his chest.

  “Safety first,” said Duncan without a smile, looking straight forward with the blindfold still tightly wrapped around his eyes.

  Sullivan sat in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. The dirt road erupted like a dusty tornado as they peeled away. Other than the occasional broken down car, the road remained mostly unobstructed. Sullivan turned on the air-conditioner, a luxury that Nash had all but forgotten about.

  “I could get used to this,” said Eliza quietly as she smiled with her eyes closed and her head back against the seat.

  “You can say that again,” said Duncan who still looked forward with his blindfold on. Sullivan reached over and closed his vents, which sent a wide smile onto Eliza’s face.

  They exited the forest and continued on the dirt road, driving alongside the dead interstate, cluttered with slowpokes and the occasional frantic howler. Sullivan took many twists and turns, taking the time to drive into fields just to end up back on the same road, headed in the same direction. The goal was to have Duncan completely disoriented before they dropped him off, making it nearly impossible for him to find his way back to the Treefort.

  They’d been driving for close to an hour when they entered a deserted town named Hillsborough. It was remarkably small, small enough that it reminded Nash of a movie-set. A handful of homes, a post office, and a convenience store were all that remained of the once populated town. A lot of the buildings had been burned to the ground, leaving only charred skeletons and scorched rubble in their place. As Sullivan slowed the car to a stop, a howler came screaming out of the broken glass of the post office door toward their vehicle. It snapped its teeth frantically as it moved, its arms out stretched toward them wit
h its fingers clenching open and shut. Sullivan rolled down his window and planted the blade of his knife in the howler’s skull as it reached his door. It fell silently backward from his knife with a sickly liquid sound when the knife slid out of its forehead.

  “Ohh, I know that sound!” cooed Duncan from the passenger seat as he clapped his shackled hands together.

  Keeping the engine running, Sullivan blasted the horn three times. “We’ll sit here for a moment, wait to see if we have any other local howlers,” he said.

  A few slowpokes stepped out from the shadows, and stood aimlessly in the street. Sullivan rolled up with windows and nodded to them. “Clear.”

  Sullivan cut the engine and they filed out of the SUV.

  “Weapons ready while we’re on the move,” said Sullivan as he opened the hatch of the SUV and grabbed the bag he’d packed for Duncan. Each of them collected one of Duncan’s bags before Sullivan closed the door again. He set off down the street, passing a few burned buildings before he stopped in front of a yellow ranch. The small house was set back a bit from the main road, tucked back against a few untamed hedges.

  “Is this our new home? Can I pick my room?” said Duncan. “I hope there are other kids my age in the neighborhood!”

  “Stay here,” said Sullivan and left Eliza and Nash with Duncan as he disappeared inside. Nash looked up and down the street, more slowpokes were funneling into the road from the abandoned buildings. Nash felt a pang of sadness for them because he knew what Duncan would do to them once left alone. But Duncan couldn’t stay at the Treefort,

  “You’re making the mistake of a lifetime, Buddy Boy,” said Duncan as he looked straight ahead into the street while he addressed Nash. “These people, that place…it’s a shit show. You’ll see, and once you do, it’ll be too late.”

  “Shut up,” said Eliza.

  “I’m talking to you too, whore,” he said as he turned his head toward Eliza’s voice. “You all feel safe right now, but give it time. You’ll be standing on the roadside with a dumbass smile on your face, or maybe you’ll be chasing your friends around trying to take a bite out of them.”

  “Quiet,” said Sullivan as he came to the open door and pulled Duncan backward into the empty house.

  Nash and Eliza followed them into the hollowed shell of the home. Sullivan was already pushing Duncan up a flight of stairs as they followed behind, keeping their ears trained for any danger around them. Sullivan had closed all the doors in the hallway at the top of the stairs with the exception of one, which hung open to reveal a tidy bedroom. He led Duncan into the open room and motioned for them to place Duncan’s belongings down beside the bed.

  “Here’s how this works, Duncan,” said Sullivan while he had Duncan face away at the foot of the bed. “We’re gonna leave you here, and you’ll be on your own. Your bags are all here, as well as a survival bag we’ve packed for you. If you find your way back to the Treefort, you will be killed on the spot. Do you understand?”

  “Trust me, when I make my way back to your campsite, it’ll be you with your throat torn open, not mine.” His voice seemed to echo from the pit of his stomach, not quite a growl. Chills shivered down Nash and Eliza’s spines as his threat sank in. He turned his head and somehow found Nash’s eyes through his thick blindfold. “And for you, Buddy Boy, my promise still stands. I’m gonna fuck that little girlfriend of yours!”

  The butt of Sullivan’s gun connected with the back of Duncan’s skull, knocking him unconscious as he fell forward onto the dusty bed. Sullivan positioned him fully onto the bed and positioned his head to make sure his airway was not obstructed. The image of Duncan’s final, blindfolded threat burned in Nash’s mind, echoing back and forth as he tried to force it from his mind.

  “It’s part of the exile plan to knock the person out, that way they don’t know which way we came from and can’t track us easily. I should’ve done it sooner to avoid all that. I’m sorry,” said Sullivan.

  “Let’s just get out of here,” said Nash as he looked at Duncan’s limp body on the bed.

  Nash and Eliza left first as Sullivan followed behind after doing another quick check to make sure Duncan was breathing. He contemplated leaving the door hanging open, which would allow a howler to come along and rip his body apart while he slept. Instead, he closed the door and set the lock.

  Chapter 13

  Nash spent the time on the drive back to the Treefort telling Sullivan about the slowpokes he’d found by the creek, specifically how they had all worn the red strips. Sullivan remained quiet, as usual, but listened intently as he absorbed the information.

  “Show me when we get back to the woods,” he said. “We haven’t had much time to talk since you got to camp. Are you settling in okay?”

  “Everything is great, especially now that Duncan’s gone. Everyone around camp has been so welcoming.”

  “Are you okay though, after dumping him off like that?” asked Eliza from the backseat. He hadn’t thought much about how he felt about the situation, but the overwhelming feeling he had was relief.

  “Yeah. We only traveled together because it was safer. He’s not safe to be around any longer.”

  They drove for a few moments of silence. The countryside was rich and overgrown, covered in a sea of green and gold that scrolled past them in a flash as they watched from behind the tinted glass.

  “Melissa slept in his RV last night,” Eliza blurted with a mischievous smile. Nash smiled in return as he continued looking out his window.

  “Not surprised,” said Sullivan as he sat firmly behind the wheel with a smirk. “Treat her good, kid, or you’ll be exiled next.”

  “Stop!” cried Eliza from the backseat, her voice like a siren. Sullivan slammed on the brakes, making them all lurch forward as the SUV screeched to a halt.

  “What’s wrong?” yelled Nash as he scanned the area around them before he saw the reason for her alarm. Far in the distance, down a large over grown hill, was a man who ran toward them with his arms flailing wildly. The three of them sat in the middle of the road as the SUV idled and watched the man sprint toward them in a frenzy.

  “He’s alive, right?” asked Nash, watching the man as he approached them.

  “Stay inside,” said Sullivan. He stepped out of the SUV, leaving the door open behind him. Nash watched the man as Sullivan retrieved his gun from the back of the SUV before he walked to the edge of the field. The man slowed and came to a stop at the sight of Sullivan and his rifle.

  “Please,” said the stranger, panting with exhaustion as he crashed to his knees in front them.

  Sullivan stood firm with the gun held in front of him, sizing up the man as he stared frantically back at him.

  “I just need help, please!” he said while tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke. “I can’t be out here alone any longer!” The man’s face was covered in fresh scrapes and bruises and his clothing was dirty and worn. “Please, I mean you no harm. I’m unarmed, you can see for yourself.”

  The frail whisper of a man shook with fear while he silently pleaded for their assistance. Given his appearance, they could tell he’d been surviving on his own for some time. Sullivan looked back at them and motioned for Eliza to come out and help him.

  Eliza stepped out of the SUV and took Sullivan’s rifle and held it in front of her with ease. It surprised Nash that she was able carry the gun with such comfort, given the size of it and her tiny stature.

  “Stand up and spread your legs,” said Sullivan.

  The man clamored to his feet and opened his legs as Sullivan patted him down from top to bottom. Sullivan slid off the man’s backpack and knelt down to search through it, just as he had the day he accepted Nash into the Treefort. The man smiled nervously at Eliza as Sullivan rooted through his bag. He went through the contents before he took out a small pocketknife and slid it into his own pocket.

  “What’s your name?” asked Sullivan.

  “Barry,” said the man as relief crept into his voice “Y
ours?”

  “What exactly do you want from us, Barry?”

  “You must have room in your car. Please, let me travel with you for a spell. I’m exhausted and I can’t be out here alone any longer.” Tears formed in his shallow eyes as he pleaded to be taken in by them. “Please, I’ve lost everything.”

  “What exactly have you lost?”

  “Why wife and daughter. We were traveling…”

  “What were their names?” interrupted Sullivan.

  “Heather and Molly,’ said Barry, not skipping a beat.

  “What was Molly’s birthday?”

  “October 1st, 2012. She was born at 3:34 am in Leesburg, Virginia. Two of her toes on both feet were webbed, which Heather and I decided to have fixed when she was three. She went to Waterford Elementary School and her first grade teacher was Ms. Randall.”

  “That’s enough,” said Sullivan, keeping his eyes trained on Barry.

  “Please, I just need a safe place to rest before I move on.”

  Sullivan looked back at Eliza, the gun still readied to fire with her slender finger resting beside the trigger. She nodded slightly at him before she handed the gun back and rejoined Nash in the SUV.

  “Come on, get in then,” said Sullivan, opening the back passenger side door as the man slid in behind Eliza. The man’s smell, while nothing nearly as offensive as Mark’s back at the Treefort, was enough for Eliza to leave her window rolled down.

  “Thank you all so much,” said Barry, getting situated and clicking his seat belt. “I’m so exhausted.” He placed his head against the seat rest and closed his eyes.

  “There’s no second chances here, Barry,” said Sullivan, taking one of his larger knives and handing it to Eliza. “She’s quite skilled with a knife.”

  “I understand.” Barry looked at Eliza with a nervous smile before glancing at the large knife.