Tainted Mind

by T J Christian

  “So, Poker Jack…what’s it going to be?” asks the voice.

  After a slight pause, the man in front of Chris and Karen answers, “Not with you, you psycho.”

  Karen whispers, “I recognize him. He and another man came through town some time ago. I stayed hidden, but I snuck close to the house and heard them talking with Paw-paw. He likes one of them but was unsure about the other one.”

  “And what did you think?” Chris asked, not wanting to waste any more time but feeling that any information could be good information. He already has a sinking feeling in his stomach that whoever is on the porch is the one that had discharged the shotgun and not Quincy. If that was the case, then he’s afraid this situation is already beyond fixing.

  “I could only hear them through the walls of the house, but they seemed okay…but I really don’t know.”

  “Let’s get a little closer,” Chris says. Using the overgrown grass and shrubs as cover, he moves down the street and closer the one called Jack. If this man is against the other one that’s shouting, then maybe he’s on their team and can be trusted.

  He’s just about to reveal himself when the other man cat-calls up the street. His voice sends a wave of ice up Chris’s spine.

  “Ohhh, Kaaarrennn…time to come out now!”

  Her hand closes around his arm. “He said my name. Why would he say my name?”

  “Karen…” Chris says, but she is already starting to stand up. He grabs her and drags her back down. “Wait, Karen…please.”

  “Who’s there?” Jack whispers, he’s turned in their general direction, eyes scanning the dark shadows within the underbrush.

  Chris sighs. “Jack…my name is Chris…I’m here with Karen.” He parts some limbs and looks out at the man in the street. “What does he want with Karen?”

  “What do you think?” he says, and Chris understands immediately. This is all about sex. A fury blooms within him as his thoughts turn back to Remy and the way she treated him. They are cut from the same cloth.

  “Harvey,” says another voice. “Put the gun down and let’s talk.”

  “Who’s that?” Chris asks.

  “Cowboy…he’s cool too. He wants to help.”

  “What about my grandfather?” Karen asks. It’s the question Chris hoped to avoid for the time being.

  “Not talking to you, Compadre,” says Harvey, “I’m only talking to Karen now.”

  Karen’s eyes lock on Jack’s. She asked him a question, and he has yet to answer.

  Jack looks away and Karen sobs, “Oh, God…no.”

  Chris pulls her close, hugs her tight.

  “Hey, Jack?” Jack turns toward his voice. “Look me in the eye and tell me I can trust you.”

  Jack does. He looks right into Chris’s eyes. “Yes, you can trust me.”

  Chris nods then addresses Karen, “Hey, Baby…we’re not out of this yet.” He looks at Jack. “We’ve got to end this.”

  Jack nods in agreement.

  “I think I have a plan,” Chris says. “It’s a shitty one, but I’m willing to try it.”

  Jack grins, “Well…anything’s better than us standing out here with our dicks in the wind.”

  * * *

  What the hell? Cowboy sees movement up the street. Here comes Poker Jack—and with him is a young woman. She’s a tiny thing—probably only weighs ninety pounds soaking wet. He’s actually surprised to see her as he was wondering if she even existed. Yet, here she is. She looks straight ahead, avoiding the place she called home. Tears stream down her face—she obviously already knows about her grandfather.

  Cowboy walks toward them, closing the distance.

  Harvey begins taunting and cat-calling from the porch again. This time, though, now that he can see what he desires, he details exactly what he’d like to do to her. She stares straight ahead, refusing to look his direction.

  Before he can address the two, Poker Jack tells him in a near-whisper, “We have a plan.” They stop next to Cowboy, Jack cocks his head up the street and even though there’s nothing or nobody there, he speaks as if there is. “There was a boy with her…he’s heading around back while we distract Harvey.”

  “Are you kidding?” asks Cowboy. “You see what happened to Bob?”

  Jack’s head bobs, “Yeah, but this time we have her.”

  Cowboy glances at the girl. A few seconds ago, he’d just seen her as a weak thing—someone that couldn’t possibly carry her own weight in a difficult situation. Now that she’s right in front of him though, he thinks he might have been mistaken. Yes, she was tiny, but the wiry muscles in her arms were tensed as if she were ready to strike out with the ax in her hand. Her eyes burned with fury—Cowboy hopes he never has to face her wrath. What was that old quote? It had to do with women. It comes to him then: Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.

  In other words, don’t piss off a woman.

  “Come over here, Kaaarreenn. I’ve got some candy for you, baby!”

  Karen’s head jerks to the side almost involuntarily. She glances toward the house, eyes still leaking hot tears. Her neck muscles tense. Cowboy instinctively grabs her by the arm. “Don’t do it. He’ll shoot you just as dead as…” He doesn’t finish the rest of the sentence. Her grandfather’s blood hasn’t even dried yet and Harvey has the gall to stand there and gawk and holler?

  Karen jerks her arm free. “No, he won’t.” She takes a step toward the house and stops. She speaks and Cowboy isn’t quite sure if she’s still talking to him or herself now. “No…he wants fresh pussy…not some dead fleshy corpse to diddle.” A sinister grin stretches across her face. “I’m sure he’s had plenty of that already. He wants it fresh.”

  She takes another step.

  “Oooh,” says Harvey, “Someone looks mad as hell.” He cackles with laughter and gestures toward her with the shotgun. “That’s fine by me…I like a little resistance. It makes the end even more satisfying.”

  “Son of a bitch,” says Poker Jack, shuffling nervously from one foot to the other.

  “Yeah,” adds Cowboy, watching as Karen moves toward the house at a quick pace. “This isn’t good at all.” He slaps Jack on the arm. “Come on,” he says, starting after Karen.

  * * *

  She’d never known anger like this. Just a few minutes ago, she’d been swimming in such bliss—that intimacy with Chris had been like nothing she’d felt before. This was on the opposite end of the spectrum. This rage was red-hot—her heart felt destroyed by this man’s darkness.

  Chris’s plan had been simple: she distracts while he sneaks in and attacks from behind. She quietly agreed to it before he kissed her and scampered across the street and disappearing between the houses.

  After he left, Jack led her down the street toward the other man, the one called Cowboy. She consciously fought against her mind to keep herself staring straight ahead and not look at the house or the body of her grandfather. She locked eyes on Cowboy and, as much as she wanted to look, didn’t take her eyes from him.

  It took all her efforts to ignore the man on her porch. Mentioning the candy was the last straw. That was the point when the anger flooded into her and she turned to face, not the man that was taunting her, but the headless body of her grandfather lying on the porch. Until that moment, he wasn’t really gone. He was still inside, coughing, trying to sleep, but very much still living.

  That changed when she looked. As many of the Tainted as she’d killed over the years, none of those could have prepared her for this. His body lay crumpled in a still-growing pool of blood—along with chunks of other things that she didn’t want to identify. It spread across the porch from both her grandfather and the man lying in the doorway, the one with the twitching foot. She’d never seen so much blood. It was so red.

  So was her rage.

  * * *

  Chris started out trying to be as quiet as possible but soon realized it didn’t matter because Harvey made so much noise on his own, it overpowered any sounds from Chris. H
e slowed down when he neared the back of the house, though. As close as he is, Harvey could hear him.

  Harvey was still carrying on at the front of the house when Chris slid into the back door.

  “Come over here, Kaaarreenn. I’ve got some candy for you, baby!”

  Before him is a direct line of sight to the front. A body lies in the doorway—Harvey’s second victim. The body’s lower chest and stomach is a tattered mess of blood-drenched clothing, flesh, and twisted organs. The closer he gets, the more Chris believes the man, however unlikely it might be, is still alive. Blood still seeps from the wound—one foot twitches.

  Beyond the man, beyond Harvey, and beyond the porch, is Karen. She approaches with bold determination. He tries to wave her off, but she doesn’t seem to see him inside the darkened house. Even if it were bright in here, she probably still wouldn’t see him—her singular focus is Harvey.

  “Oooh,” says Harvey, “Someone looks mad as hell.” He cackles with laughter and gestures toward her with the shotgun. “That’s fine by me…I like a little resistance. It makes the end even more satisfying.”

  Machete in hand, Chris edges closer.

  The body in the threshold is only a few feet away now. Its right hand flexes.

  Chris pauses. Wasn’t its eyes closed just a second ago?

  * * *

  She stops before getting too close. She’s mad as hell but she’s not on a suicide mission. Harvey makes a lot of motions with the shotgun, but so far, he hasn’t really pointed it at her.

  He grunts, “You are some kind of sweet, aren’t you?”

  “You killed my grandfather.”

  “Yeah, well,” he says, not even bothering to look down at the body. He takes a step toward the edge of the porch. Strings of drying blood stretch between his boot and the wood. She wants to look away. That’s her grandfather’s blood, damn it! She doesn’t, though. She remains focused on him. She’s supposed to be the distraction? Well, she’ll be a distraction if that’s what it takes.

  Footsteps approach behind her—Jack and Cowboy. They remain silent. Good for them. If they distract Harvey, he’ll probably just decide to blow them away—or try, they are probably well out of range for any lethal damage. Shotguns are more of a close-range weapon—and she’s well within that lethal window.

  “Why don’t you put that little toothpick on the ground and follow me inside.” His sinister grin transforms his face to something resembling a demon. He sniffs the air. His right eye twitches and begins to slide away from her. “Mmmm…I can smell you from here.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “Nope…just horny.” Suddenly, his eyes grow large as he seems to look beyond Karen, then his head twitches to the left—once, twice. It only lasts a second, but his actions are unnerving. It was as if, for that split second, he’d lost consciousness and only the twitching of his head brought him back out of it.

  “Mmmm…I can smell you from here.”

  What the hell? She takes an involuntary step back. He’d just said that. But it’s not just that fact that affects her—it’s how he says it. He says it the exact same way as the first time. It was as if she were watching an old movie, missed a line of dialogue, and rewound the video to watch it again. His voice was exactly the same.

  What she’s witnessing now is stranger than anything she’s ever seen—and that includes the Tainted.

  This needs to end—and soon.

  * * *

  An arm moves. Eyes blink.

  Chris backs away. He has a machete in his hand, but if he strikes the Tainted one, to put it completely out of its misery, Harvey will hear him. A new plan forms in the back of his head. He wanted a distraction—well here’s one right here. And it’s one of Harvey’s own making. Just keep distracting him, Karen. He wills her to hear his thoughts, hoping she’ll keep Harvey’s attention while the body reanimates behind him.

  Chris slides out of view, hiding behind the cabinet on the front wall. Peeking around the corner, the Tainted smacks its lips and begins to look around.

  “Mmmm…I can smell you from here,” says Harvey. Chris almost steps out from his hiding place. Did he just hear that right? Did Harvey repeat himself? This guy really has a few loose screws in his head.

  Harvey continues talking, but his speech seems disconnected and quiet now—as if he’s talking more to himself.

  Chris risks another peek around the cabinet. The Tainted has lifted its head; its cloudy dead eyes have found Harvey. It sits up and disappears from view. He feels reverberations through the floor as the thing struggles to its feet. Chris edges around the cabinet to sneak a better look. The Tainted is on its knees. Its hand slips in the blood, but it catches itself before falling.

  Chris holds his breath—not because of the Tainted but because of the nonsense coming from Harvey’s mouth.

  * * *

  Karen backs away, not out of fear, but out of confusion. In the last few seconds, Harvey has changed. His right eye slides so far to the right that all color is almost gone. It makes him appear as if he is looking in two different directions at once. To her horror, the white of his eye turns red with blood. A crimson tear collects in the corner, threatening to spill down his cheek.

  And then there are the things he’s saying. It’s as if he’s reliving the past and the present all at one time. Some of what he’s saying is directed at her—she’s certain of that because he’s been repeating the same things already. But the other? She can’t imagine what this man must have endured over the years—what he’s seen and done. For a moment, she almost feels compassion for him.

  Still, she backs away. There’s movement behind her—Jack and Cowboy back away too, matching her step for step.

  “What the hell’s happening to his face?” She wasn’t sure if that was Jack or Cowboy speaking. His voice is far, far away.

  “Yes I can smell you just like I can smell the blood of that first one so long ago she was so sweet so sweet so sweet and I can’t just can’t find my way out of here the darkness closing in on my but your smell I smell you guiding me out but that’s not right you are a trap a trap to lock my mind away so you can escape oh that blood that blood I can taste it I can smell you I can smell you oh the blood…”

  “He’s gone fucking nuts.”

  A hand grabs her arm, tries to pull her back, but she jerks it away. As he is now, Harvey is no danger to them. The shotgun, while still held loosely in his hands, is for all intents and purposes, just a stick.

  She tries to make sense of what Harvey is saying, but she can come up with no reasonable explanation. A few minutes ago, she was his goal—but now? She has no idea.

  Behind Harvey, Bob move. His body rises off the bloody porch and stands on unsteady legs, shaking as if it’s using them for the first time. It probably is, she thinks. This was the first time it’s used them after death. Had she just witnessed a rebirth?

  It takes a step forward. A movement within the house draws her attention. Chris. Her heart flutters at the sight of his shadowy silhouette.

  “I can see now that you’re just not going to be worth the trouble.”

  This draws her attention back to Harvey—this is the first coherent thing he’s spoken in the last five minutes, but he sounds nothing like he did before that rambling tirade. He steps off the porch, the gun no longer forgotten—it points at her head. His right eye is still twisted at an odd angle. The bloody tear, no longer trapped at the corner of the eye, now slides down his cheek, leaving a crimson trail. His left eye is clear, focused, and full of hatred. She tries to take a step back, but his shout stops her.

  “Don’t fucking move.” He steps off the porch.

  Behind him, the body that once belonged to Bob follows him, feet sliding across the bloody porch. At least he still has a singular focus, even if the motivations have changed. She just needs to delay any trigger-pulling for another couple of seconds. The Tainted is only a few steps behind him. The problem is, Harvey is still moving toward her. He steps down onto t
he broken walkway. Just as long as the thing doesn’t find its voice and alerts Harvey to its presence.

  It’s as if the Tainted could read her mind. To her horror, its mouth opens. Its tongue, already turning black, slides out and runs across its lips as if it can already taste Harvey’s flesh. She imagines that mouth making a sound, a quiet hiss—one that she’s sure Harvey hears. Her eyes widen in terror. Harvey stops, his good eye studying her with a silent intensity. She realizes her mistake then—her face just gave it away. Whether or not it makes a sound, he now knows something is going on behind him.

  * * *

  He turns, bringing the gun around, knowing there’s a threat of some sort behind him but not knowing what. Either way, it’s something a shotgun should take care of. Bob reaches for him. The gaping hole in his stomach leaks blood. A long string of intestine hangs from him, sliding across the floor between his legs. They catch on an exposed nail head, causing more to slip out as he launches off the porch and into Harvey.

  Harvey screams and lifts his arm in an attempt to keep the dead man off—he only succeeds in putting his arm in Bob’s mouth. The pain is white hot.

  * * *

  “Karen, no!” Cowboy reaches for her, but she’s already out of reach. As soon as Harvey began to turn, she leaps forward, ax raised in the air. Jack is partly in his way and he tries to shove past him, but only causes them both to fall to the ground in a heap of tangled legs. He looks up, helplessly watching as Karen throws herself at a man twice her size and the dead man that was once Bob.

  * * *

  Harvey, sensing something behind him, turned and is now in a life or death fight against Bob’s tainted body. Behind Harvey, Karen leaps like a cat, pouncing towards its prey. She holds the ax up high over her head. Her mouth opens, screaming, but nothing is coming out.

  Chris’s heart catches in his throat. “No!” he shouts and rushes toward the porch.

  The Tainted bites down on Harvey’s arm—his other hand, holding the shotgun, swipes at the thing’s head. There’s a soft thud as the metal barrel shatters the Tainted’s skull, leaving a hollow indention. If there was any damage to the brain, it wasn’t enough to put the thing down. Instead, its anger intensified at being hit and attacked Harvey with increased vigor.