by Mark Kelly
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then you are an idiot. Do you think I would be so stupid as to come here and risk my life if I did not have a good reason?”
“They didn’t take you as a slave?”
“No one takes me as a slave,” Lucia replied proudly. “I tricked them into bringing me here, but if I cannot find my friend, your sister will die. Do you want that?”
Megan shook her head.
“Then go get the tape. It is on the floor beside the pile of garbage.”
Megan hesitated.
“Go, now.”
The room went dark as Megan snatched the lantern from the floor and ran into the second room. Lucia felt the older woman struggling beneath her. She reached down and grabbed the scissors from her sock and pressed the point against the woman’s neck. “If you continue to struggle, I will kill you. You would not be the first.”
“I’ve got the tape,” Megan shouted. She ran back into the room with the lantern in one hand and the box of tape in the other.
“Get up slowly and do not try to run,” Lucia said to the older woman. She pressed the scissors against the woman’s back and lifted her to her feet.
With Megan following, Lucia pushed her captive into the back room where they bound the older woman’s hands and mouth with tape and wrestled her onto the gurney.
“What now?” Megan asked as the woman fought to free herself.
“We will tie her,” Lucia said, starting to wind the tape around the woman and the gurney. By the time they finished, the older woman was wrapped up like a mummy. There was no way she was getting free anytime soon.
“Hello? What the hell is going on in here? Where did you three go?” Lucia’s escort shouted from the other room.
The older woman gave a muffled cry and fought against her bindings. Lucia pressed the scissors against the woman’s temple and whispered, “Don’t, or I will cut you open and gut you like a fish.”
When the woman stopped struggling, Lucia grabbed Megan’s hand and pulled her in close. “Do as I say or we will both die. Do you understand?”
Megan nodded and Lucia jammed the scissors in her back pocket and grabbed the lantern. Then she snatched an empty can of fuel from the floor and walked back into the main room. “We ran out,” she said, waving the empty can in her hand.
“Where are the other two?”
“Right here,” Megan said, stepping out of the back room.
“Where’s the other one?”
“She…uh…had to pee.”
The woman frowned. “They’re hungry. Is the food ready?”
“Yes,” Lucia said quickly.
“Shut up—I wasn’t talking to you,” the woman in the doorway snapped. She looked at Megan. “I asked you a question.”
“I think it’s ready,” Megan said, glancing at Lucia who nodded.
“Get it and let’s go.”
Lucia’s pulse quickened. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She stepped around Megan and grabbed a pot off the stove and said, “I will bring it.”
The woman scowled. “Fine, but I need to search you first. Come here.”
Lucia froze. She might be able to explain the scissors in her back pocket, but if she gave them up, she wouldn’t have a weapon. She had to hide them. Turning clumsily, she knocked a tin can off the counter on purpose and bent down to pick it up with the pot of food still in her hands.
“Hurry up and don’t be so goddamn clumsy or John will banish you too!” the woman shouted at Lucia.
Now out of the woman’s line of sight, Lucia pulled the scissors from her pocket and dropped them into the pot where they sank to the bottom. Megan stared at her, Trembling.
“Don’t worry,” Lucia said with a hint of a smile as she stood. “I am sure they will like what we have cooked for them.” She glanced over her shoulder at the door to the back room where Delilah was tied up.
“Keep a watch on things. I won’t be long.”
29
King And Queen
The guard opened the door to the lodge and stepped back allowing Lucia and her escort to enter. Lucia squinted against the bright sunlight streaming through a series of skylights in the ceiling and looked around in wonder. The Lodge was a sanctuary compared to the rest of the hospital. It had been scrubbed clean and smelled fresh in a chemical kind of way. Large leather chairs and couches that wouldn’t have been out of place in a hotel lobby were scattered around the room.
It would have been almost pleasant if not for the people in it. Mostly men, but a few women as well, all King John’s followers. She felt their eyes on her as her escort pushed her across the room. Some of the roamers studied her as if she were a threat. For others, she was nothing more than merchandise; something to be sampled at their pleasure.
A large overweight man lounging in a double-wide armchair whistled at Lucia as she walked past. Surprised, she stole a second look at him out of the corner of her eye. She hadn’t seen anyone his size since the pandemic started.
His arms were wrapped around two half-dressed teenage girls using his gigantic chest as a pillow. Their eyes were glazed over and heavy-lidded. Lucia recognized the look. She’d seen it in New York City in the faces of the girls pimped out by the Calle 18 gang members. It was heroin or fentanyl. Her pimp had given it to her once. It made her happy and stupid. She didn’t like being either.
Lucia’s escort nudged her with her elbow and pointed to an area of the room cordoned off by thick brown noise-dampening curtains. When they reached the spot where the curtains came together, the woman pulled them back and ushered Lucia in.
Lucia sucked in a breath. King John and his wife, Lilanne, stared at her from the matching armchairs they sat in.
“I see you’ve brought us company,” Lilanne said in a slightly pinched voice. Her face had an angular quality to it, almost skeletal. She looked like a crow with her beak-like nose, and jet black hair cut short and swept back from her face. Her lips came together in a satisfied smirk as she studied Lucia from top to bottom.
Lucia held out the pot of food and said, “I have brought your—”
Her escort kicked the back of her legs, forcing Lucia to her knees and knocking her off-balance. Lucia’s pulse raced as the glint of metal appeared in the food. If they saw the scissors, they’d kill her. She yanked the pot closer, shielding it with her body.
“Speak when you’re spoken to and show some respect,” her escort said.
“Where’s the pretty one?” King John growled at Lucia’s escort. “The one whose sister I banished.”
“In the kitchen.”
“Go get her. I like her.”
He leaned forward and grabbed the pot. Lucia fought to keep it level as he peered into it and scowled. “And bring more food. There isn’t enough here to feed an ant.”
Lucia’s escort nodded. “Anything else?”
“Go get my new pet. She needs to eat too.”
He’s talking about Saanvi, Lucia thought, clenching her teeth and tensing with anticipation.
The sharp end of an umbrella poked her in the shoulder. She looked up to see King John leaning forward, almost on top of her.
“What is your name?”
“Lucia…I am Lucia.”
“You have an accent. Are you Mexican?” Lilanne asked, raising a thin eyebrow.
“No, I am from El Salvador.”
A slow smiled formed on Lilanne’s face. “How exotic. I think we will have a good time together.”
You would have to kill me first, Lucia thought.
There was the sound of the curtains opening behind her. King John smiled and patted the top of his knee as if he were calling a dog. “Ah, there she is. Come here and sit.”
It was all she could do to not turn around. Lucia glanced up out of the corner of her eye as Saanvi staggered towards King John with the same heavy-lidded look on her face as the two girls in the other room. The teenager giggled and fell into King John’s lap, smiling sloppily when she saw Lu
cia.
“Luzie…whaz…ya doin?”
Lilanne’s eyes narrowed. She scrutinized Saanvi and then Lucia.
“Do you know each other?”
Lucia shook her head and tensed, ready to grab the scissors.
Not satisfied with the answer, Lilanne stood and walked over to stand in front of her husband’s chair. “Do you know this woman?” she demanded of Saanvi. “Tell me the truth.”
When the girl didn’t answer, Lilanne lifted Saanvi’s chin with her hand and asked again, “Tell me, do you know this woman?”
Saanvi’s head flopped to the side. A trickle of drool spilled out of her mouth and down her cheek. She tried to focus on the person talking to her but gave up. Lilanne turned away, her eyes narrowing even further as she looked down her nose at Lucia.
“I do not know her,” Lucia said, holding Lilanne’s gaze.
“Let’s eat,” King John said, clapping his hands together and signalling the conversation was done. Lilanne frowned and returned to her chair. Lucia felt the woman’s eyes on her.
“What are you waiting for? Get up and serve them,” Lucia’s escort hissed, nudging her with her foot.
Lucia rose to find Megan standing a few feet away, holding the second pot of food in her hands and staring wide-eyed in terror at the pot Lucia held.
“Quickly, before it gets cold,” Lucia said, afraid Megan would give them away.
They walked to a table and took plates from a stack and began to pile food onto them. “You serve the bitch, and I will serve him,” Lucia whispered.
Megan grabbed her arm. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing yet.”
Lucia scanned the room, searching for a way out while she ladled food onto the plates. Aside from the door they had come through, the only other exit was a double set of fire-doors with a length of chain looped through the push bars and padlocked. She didn’t know where the doors went—probably to the patio Megan’s sister had mentioned—but if she couldn’t find a way to open them, it didn’t matter.
“Look who I found,” a voice yelled out of nowhere.
Lucia’s stomach did a somersault. The goateed guard who had searched her had the general’s son, Dylan, by the scruff of his shirt and was frog-marching the much smaller man across the room. Lilanne’s eyes crinkled with delight at the sight of Dylan being manhandled like a rag-doll.
“Kneel, damn you,” the guard said, forcing Dylan to his knees in front of Lilanne’s chair. “We found him outside snooping around. He was carrying this.”
The guard handed Dylan’s backpack to Lilanne. It was the pack that Abrams had brought from the base. The roamers in the room watched with interest as Lilanne pulled the items out and dropped them on the floor by the foot of her chair.
“Shame on you, Little Mouse,” she said, scolding Dylan. “How many times have you been warned to stay out of our way. Yet, here you are, scurrying around, stealing what is ours.”
“I didn’t steal it. It’s mine,” Dylan whined. His eyes darted between Lilanne and Saanvi and then widened in surprise when he saw Lucia.
Lilanne noticed. Her expression turned cold.
“And I know where to get more—lots more,” Dylan yelled, drawing Lilanne’s attention away from Lucia.
The little bastard was up to something, Lucia thought. She brought the pot closer and watched helplessly as Dylan whispered to King John and his wife. When Dylan finished, King John patted him on the shoulder.
“Shut up and listen,” King John shouted. When the noise in the room ebbed to nothing, he motioned to Dylan. “Little Mouse, as my wife likes to call him, has found a horde of supplies.”
Confused, Lucia gawked at Dylan. What horde of supplies? Everything the little prick had, he had gotten from Abrams.
King John raised his hand and spoke. “We will go get what is ours this afternoon, but first, we will celebrate. More food—Now! And a drink. I need a glass of wine.”
“You heard him,” Lucia’s escort said. She pointed to a case of wine under the table. “Quit staring and start serving.”
Lucia bent down and grabbed a bottle from the case. When she stood, she saw Lilanne whispering to the goateed guard. He stared at Lucia and then strode towards another man who stood by the door to the lodge.
They are coming for me, Lucia thought. She brushed against Megan and whispered, “Quick, move in front of me.”
Megan gave her an inquiring look but took a half-step sideways. With a quick check to ensure she wasn’t being watched, Lucia thrust her hand into the pot of food and pulled out the scissors.
“What’s taking you so long?” her escort asked, frowning and leaning sideways to get a better view of what Lucia was doing.
“Coming…I am coming,” Lucia answered, grabbing the bottle of wine and stepping out from behind Megan. She walked towards King John and Lilanne. One of the two would be her hostage. The other would die.
The goateed guard regarded Lucia from across the room. Lucia followed his eyes to her right hand, the hand with the scissors, the hand stained red with tomato sauce.
“Stop her!”
It was now or never.
Lucia dropped the wine bottle and leapt behind Lilanne’s chair. She grabbed a clump of the woman’s short black hair with her free hand and yanked back. Lilanne’s eyes went wide with shock as she looked up to see Lucia staring down at her.
Gripping the scissors like a ski pole, Lucia plunged them into Lilanne’s ear. The woman shrieked in agony as the pointed end of the surgical scissors passed through her eardrum like a pencil through tissue paper. Lucia pushed harder and four inches of stainless steel buried itself in Lilanne’s brain. When Lucia yanked the scissors out, Lilanne slumped over and fell from her chair, dead.
The room erupted in chaos.
King John pushed Saanvi off of his lap and tried to stand. Lucia wrapped her left arm around his neck in a choke hold and pushed him back down. She pressed the point of the scissors against the corner of his eye.
“STOP…or this hijo de puta is next,” she shouted at the roamers. Slouching down to make herself as small a target as possible, she leaned in closer to him and spoke in a low voice. “Tell them to do as I say, or you will join your wife.”
“You’ll kill me anyway.”
“I need you alive,” she whispered into his ear.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then you have a choice to make,” she said, “certain death or just the possibility of it.” To make her point, she dragged the scissors down his face, bringing the sharp point to a stop in the fleshy area by the side of his ear. “One little push and you will be dead.”
“Lower your weapons,” he shouted half-heartedly. A few did, but most didn’t.
Lucia pushed down on the scissors until he flinched. “Tell them again.”
“Drop your goddamn weapons! Do it now before this bitch does something stupid.”
Most of the roamers lowered their guns. Lucia noted who hadn’t moved. The fat man was still in his chair with the two girls half-lying on his lap. She couldn’t see a gun, but she was certain he was armed. As was the woman who had escorted her from the kitchen. And king John too, she had almost forgotten about him.
“Megan, come here. Get his gun,” Lucia said, motioning with her head at King John.
“You’re as stupid as your sister,” King John snarled at Megan. “You’ll wish you never helped this—”
Lucia jabbed him with the scissors, shutting him up. Megan hesitated and then stuck her arm down into the tight space between his body and the side of the chair. Trembling, she took a deep breath and yanked his gun from its holster. She offered it to Lucia.
“Do you know how to use it?” Lucia asked her.
“Yes.”
“Keep it and go get Lilanne’s. Then come around the chair beside me.”
Megan returned with Lilanne’s gun and Lucia said, “Now, I want you to press your gun up against the side of his head and then hand me the other g
un. You know what to do if he moves, right?”
The younger woman nodded and raised her gun. Her hands shook so badly, Lucia half-expected the weapon to go off and King John to flop over dead beside his wife.
In one fluid motion, Lucia released her choke hold on King John, dropped the scissors and plucked the second gun from Megan’s hand.
With the gun in her hand, Lucia pressed the barrel against the back of the roamer leader’s head and smiled. “It is good that you did not move, cabrón…good for both of us.”
Then she gave Megan a reassuring nod. “We are almost finished. There are two more guns to get; the woman who brought you here and the fat man. I will cover you, but be careful. Go and get the woman’s gun first.”
Their escort scowled, but gave up her gun without any fuss. Megan returned and placed the weapon on the floor by Lucia’s feet.
“Good, now the fat man.”
Holding her gun tightly in both hands, Megan crossed the room and came to a stop a dozen feet away from his chair. With her hands shaking almost as much as her voice, she said, “Give me your gun. Take it out and put in on the floor and then kick it to me.”
His cheek jowls puffed out in anger as he glared at her. After a brief staring contest, he shrugged. “Okay, you win.”
Shifting his considerable bulk to the side, he pushed one of the girls onto the floor. The girl looked up, dazed, and then dropped her head as the effort of holding it up became too great. The other girl, her eyes closed in a deep drug-induced sleep, didn’t move. He reached his hand over, as if to push her off of him, but grabbed for the gun in his shoulder holster instead.
“He’s going to—” Lucia shouted.
There was the crack of a gunshot as Megan pulled the trigger. The round struck the fat man in his chest. He spasmed and gurgled as his lung collapsed. Woken by the gunshot, the girl beside him screamed when she saw the blood bubbling up through his shirt. She scrambled off the chair and clutched at her friend on the floor.
