The Uninvited (Book 3): The Unwelcomed

by mike Evans

  Zeke pulled his heavy coat to the side, showing off a revolver. He’d been the only one on the force to not go after the Glocks when they were first made available to the police departments throughout America. When given the choice to switch or keep his old faithful, he decided to keep his revolver.

  Matt smiled, shaking his head. “You’d never even get the leather snap off. You have a good retirement, Zeke. Again, thank you. And also thank you for getting us the extra supplies. It will give us some time to figure out how we’d like to go about things. We might have to figure something else out.”

  Zeke let his coat fall back to his side and walked backwards, sliding into his truck. He tipped his hat to Matt and wasted no time getting the truck turned over, pulling out onto the highway. He did the sign of the cross, thanking God for still being alive, and that for the most part it had gone as well as expected. He looked in the rearview mirror, trying to see Matt, hoping it would be the last time that he ever did, but the giant of a man had disappeared into the distance already.

  ***

  Matt wasted no time, making quick trips to take the items a few hundred yards into the woods and deep out of sight. It did not take long before he had everything at a safe distance so that he would be able to start what would end up being a grueling day carrying supplies. He had ten fifty-pound bags of rice to carry, among other items, such as seasonings to keep food from tasting so bland that you would not want to put it in your mouth. When he had first come to the North Woods, he’d only been able to carry one bag for the entire trip and felt like his arms were on fire from being overworked. Now, he carried one on each arm and knew that he could do more if he needed to, and could carry it further.

  When he made it back to the house, his dad could already tell that something was off. “Everything go okay, boy?”

  Matt carried the two bags over, saying, “I’ve got another six or seven trips to go. It went fine, but this is the last time that we are going to see Zeke.”

  Paul, who did not move half as quick as he had five years ago when Matt had shown up, flew across the room, slamming an unsuspecting Matt into the wall. He pushed a forearm up under his chin and made Matt go up on his tiptoes.

  “He was our only way to get supplies you fool! What in the hell were you thinking? You know better. You know that we will have no means without him. You know we only had him for this long because I saved his life. When you take someone away, you have to think about what is going to happen in the long run. What were you thinking? What the fuck, Matt!”

  Matt took his father by the throat, using all the restraint in his body not to crush his windpipe in one move. He lifted up above his Adam’s apple, pushing him backwards until his dad had to take a step and let off the pressure from his chin. Matt took a few breaths regaining his composure and pushing the idea of decapitating his father from his mind. “You should have let me explain myself, Dad, not that I can blame you for your assumptions. He got voted out.”

  “Voted out of what, god damn it!” Paul screamed.

  “Aren’t you the one who tells me that I need to slow down and think, Dad? You should hear yourself; you aren’t thinking too calmly at the moment, are you? I was going to say that he was voted out of his position as county sheriff. Some other guy got voted in, someone that he doesn’t trust. He said that he is retiring and not staying on in any other position. He wouldn’t be able to explain all the shit being bought either, I’d assume. If they ever do an audit on him, I expect they’d wonder where the food that he purchases is all going. Well, since he is done and leaving town—apparently for Minnesota, which he asked we never visit if we decided to get back into our old ways; I think he’s worried about me more than you.”

  “Fuck, you said that you have five trips more left, how much did he bring us?”

  “Apparently, enough to make him be able to sleep at night. I don’t know what length of time we will have, but I’d think we could easily do a year off of it, if we aren’t eating like pigs.”

  “All you eat is meat; I don’t think that it will be an issue for you. It’d be good if you did eat something besides just protein. Cup of rice and some veggies once in a while wouldn’t do any wrong by you,” Paul said.

  “I don’t like anything but meat now. Besides, you can’t keep weight on, the way it is.”

  “That’s what happens when you get as old as me, boy. You don’t worry about me though, I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon, if I have anything to do with it.”

  “I’m going to go make another trip. This is going to take me the entire day.”

  “You want me to help? I can’t throw two bags at a time, but I can help get one or two back if you need the help.”

  “I do need the help, but you can’t handle the trip. Carrying you back is only going to waste time. Just sit back and cook up something big, because I’m going to need some food when I’m done. Christ, I’d have had breakfast if I’d have known this was going to happen today.”

  Paul nodded. “I’d have had a final conversation and told him how thankful we were that he has been here through all this time. The very fact that he didn’t turn you in when you came to the woods was a miracle in its own.”

  “He didn’t turn me in because he figured that they wouldn’t ever get a hold of me. He didn’t want the deaths racked up on his hands. He was only trying to save people. If he could have kept us taken care of for the rest of our lives, I’d say that he would want to have had it that way. But what you get and what you have are usually two different things.”

  “We will stay up here for as long as we can. You get going, and I’ll make sure that we have plenty for you to eat when you get back.”

  Matt closed the door behind him and spent the rest of the trip heading back daydreaming of being able to feel the blood on his hands. The splatter from slicing through someone's neck and it spraying on his face gave him chills, which crawled up his back, giving him goosebumps. He could feel the innards of someone’s neck in between his fingers. He’d always thought if he left that he would like to see what his children had turned into. He realized that they were thirteen and fifteen by now. He had gotten the itch young in life but was curious if it had passed over them, if it wouldn’t be an issue going forward until they had their own children. He was thankful his dad had tried to help him harness his demons early on. He didn’t want to think of his kids having to deal with that on their own if they got the itch, if it hadn’t bypassed them.

  By the end of the day he had finished making all of the trips. They had been forced to put all the extra rice beneath cots and in corners where they could have it out of their way. They had always tried to ration their supplies, never feasting, never eating like kings. But in all their time, they still had not had this much on hand.

  Paul said, “So when we run out, what are we going to do, Matt? I know you like the meat but you’ll need to eat something else in your life at some time. Your body is going to need some fat on it as you get older. You can’t look like that the rest of your life and not freeze to death up here. These woods were only being protected from hunters and hikers by Zeke.”

  “I eat more than just meat, it is just what I like. As far as the woods, I am not scared of hunters.”

  “Right but they can report a mysterious cabin in the woods. Or they could just catch you out beating an animal to death, or cutting it into pieces while you scream in the woods like a madman. I’m sure hunters wouldn’t find that the least bit odd. Probably come up and want to be your best friend. You think?”

  “Uh, no I don’t, but I’m not going to have a bunch of city boys coming through and sneaking up on me and getting away with it,” Matt sneered.

  Paul threw up his hands. “We can live the way we are for a while, but we’re going to have a time when things need to be figured out. It doesn’t have to be today, but just remember that I tried to talk some sense into you. I’m sure I haven’t learned shit in my first seventy-five years on this Earth. You probably know everythin
g that you need to so you can survive. You forget that you were fucking half dead when you showed up. You were lucky to get away with murder as many times as you have. I assure you those muscles will fade, your speed will slow down, and your eyes will go to shit. You can smile and think I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I remember thinking my elders didn’t know what they were talking about when I was your age. Now I’m not any longer, and I don’t have the speed, the muscle, or the eyesight, and there’s more pain in my body on a daily basis than I ever felt growing up around your age.”

  “I get it dad, I can’t be who I am forever and I need plans. I’m not against it. I'm not saying that I won’t, I just don’t want to figure it all out now. I need to go out and get a hike in. You got any preference on what we need for meat in the back stock, or are we good on everything?”

  “We can always use a deer, lots of meat, and it’s good for me. Old guys are supposed to eat lean meat, and well, I’m old.”

  Matt nodded, walking out the door and grabbing his bow, slinging the arrows over his shoulder.

  Chapter 12

  North Woods

  Three weeks later

  Matt walked around the cabin. He opened the box, running his fingers across his mask. He made sure that his father was asleep before pulling it out. He slipped it over his head and ran his fingers back down it again. He could see hundreds of victims that he was putting in their final resting place and missed it so, so much. Paul screamed, startling him, taking him out of—what to him was—his happy place. Matt went to take it off but Paul yelled before he could. “You have gotten better, right? What I mean is, you can handle it. I know this because I'm still alive, for now at least. I'm not going round and round about this. You can handle it or you can’t.”

  Matt pulled the mask off slowly, running his fingers down it one last time, thinking about it, and set it on the fireplace’s mantle.

  “Put that thing back away,” Paul demanded.

  “It isn’t what makes me evil, Dad, it is what completes me. If I want something to remember the old me by and I have gone this long, then there’s absolutely no reason it needs to be stuck in a box for the rest of my life.”

  Paul wanted to say something, but Matt slid out of the house. The two had done little but bicker and bitch at each other since the idea of Zeke being gone and the implications of that had come out into the open.

  It took all of his willpower to not remove his head from his shoulders. Matt could remember like it was yesterday, being just a teen, feeling the same way. On more than one occasion, he’d stood by the bedside, watching his father’s chest slowly rise and fall. He’d debate for hours if he should put him out of his misery along with his mother, or if he should go back to bed and let him live for another day. In the end he always returned to bed.

  His dad had always mentioned to him that he should be able to control his demons. Matt had never thought of them in a dark way. Killing, to him, was something he felt in—what he could only assume was—his soul, and he didn’t feel guilty about it. He never felt like it was wrong and sure as hell never lost any sleep. He’d never slept better than when he’d killed his first victim. It’d been a bum in town that people had regularly asked to leave. Matt had lured him into the woods with a bottle of whiskey that his dad kept for special occasions, hidden away from his mother in the garage.

  When he had gotten the man out of sight, he’d let him take two or three drinks before stabbing the man once through each thigh. When he’d tried to crawl away, Matt had felt something come to life within him. The man had begged to be left alone, for Matt to leave, that he was poor and that he was being unfair, picking him because he was poor. Matt had told him, with no room left for question, that there was no judgement against him for being poor, but that he simply didn’t have anyone else, yet, that no one would miss. He’d explained quickly that he’d been chosen because there’d be no questions where the bum in town went; that there would be a very large number of new victims as time went on, and he learned his craft in a way that made him even more dangerous.

  The man had protested and begged until the end, but Matt had quickly grown tired of his pleas, not yet enjoying them as he did now, and stabbed him through the throat. It had been the first time a human’s blood has practically gushed and sprayed from their throats, and he’d loved every second of it as it shot on his face and shirt. He’d always enjoyed science in school, but never—not once—had he appreciated the human body so much as when he could feel the man’s heart slowly dwindling in pulsation under his hand, until it finally made its final pump, and the final gasp had come from his throat. When he had made his way home after washing in the river and burying the man as deep as he could in the woods, he’d noticed the blood under his nails. He knew about evidence and what could be tied to murders, and it had almost broken his heart to wash it away.

  Chapter 13

  Ramsey rolled to a stop in front of the North Woods. He smiled at the do not enter signs. The rest of the trucks pulled up behind him. James came up to his door, almost hopping in place. “You all ready, boss? You need anything before we head out to scout?”

  “Yeah, you could try to get your shit together, because we got a long day and I need someone more than just me thinking about shit. You think you can let go of your dick for a minute and think with the other head, Schmidt?”

  He wiggled his pants while smiling, looking more like Stevie Wonder playing the piano. “I don’t know, it’s going to get awful lonely if I do. How come we only brought four guys? You know we could have gotten this figured out in half the time with more people.”

  Ramsey got out and shook a smoke free from the soft pack. He did a circle, looking around the woods while stretching out his back and checking that his knife and gun were in place, and that his surplus army boots were laced tight. He’d not been in these woods for decades, but knew from the timber surrounding the town exactly how steep they were. “We don’t need more people, dipshit. There’s enough here to do what we need. I don’t want to have a dozen guys walking around getting lost in the woods, asking for help when someone goes by. All we need to do today is take a nice leisurely stroll—or as leisurely as it could be, if you were a fucking Marine—and find us a nice spot out in the middle of nowhere that all of us can remember to get back to and out of everyone’s sight. The more guys we bring out here, the more that we are going to have to deal with later.”

  “Later?” Schmidt asked.

  “Yeah, you want to know what my long-term plan is for this spot?”

  Schmidt nodded enthusiastically, and Ramsey said, “Good for you. Now, go get your rifle and pack, and let’s fucking go.”

  “But what’s the plan? I mean, what’s up?”

  “Oh, did I give off the impression that I was going to tell you? Bless your gullible heart. Last time I checked, you’re just barely in the entry-level drug management team. No one needs to know nothing but James and me. You and Moon should just be honored that you got to come with. Now, get your shit. Moon, you get your shit too. Look at James; his ass is just ready to walk. Not one stupid question.”

  “You just keep my pocket full, Ramsey, and I got no problems in life. I don’t need to know the answers to the world’s problems, I just need to know that I got a meal coming to me. This location creeps me out though, I won’t lie. But if it’s good enough to put the creeps in me, I guarantee you no sane mother fuckers are going to make their way up here anytime soon. And if they do, no one out here will ever be able to hear their screams.”

  Ramsey slid on his daypack, and the four men headed off and into the woods. They walked for hours, trying to find somewhere that was flat, until one of them caught the drifting smoke in the distance. Ramsey held up a fist for them to stop. “You guys smell that?”

  “Look, I had burritos last night, it isn’t my fault. You don’t need to act all high and mighty there, Ramsey,” Schmidt said.

  “No, you stupid shit, Ramsey, ain’t talking about your swamp
ass. But he is talking about that fresh wood being burnt somewhere real damn close. I wonder if someone already claimed this spot for cooking, Ramsey. You think anyone has the balls to do anything up here, even with Zeke saying it is off limits?” James asked.

  “Well, maybe there’s just someone that enjoys the great outdoors. I don’t know if anyone would be stupid enough to come out and cook here though. Anyone with any common sense knows that this is our territory, I mean, don’t you think?” Ramsey said.

  Moon pulled out his rifle, checking the bolt action. “Seems anyone that does live out here either knows how to protect themselves, or they ain’t scared of finding nobody this far in. We probably won’t have too many protests, about time we tell them we need them to leave.”

  Ramsey and James both laughed. Ramsey asked, “Damn it, Moon, just when I start thinking you aren’t as dumb as everyone says that you are, you go and pull out some dumbshit like that. Why in God’s name would we let someone go? You think picking out a nice meth cooking spot has a lot to do with seeing how many people you can, let me know where your cook spot is; or do you think it comes down to keeping your mouth shut and staying off of everyone's radars? By the time we get this up and going, we’re going to have a tight-lipped set up. The only people who’re going to be coming back here are going to be those that can help with the cook or are on the need to know. If we aren’t going to be selling where we sleep, then that number’s going to get even lower. Now, think of this: if it’s just us knowing where this place is, the rest of the people are just used for distributing this shit all across the northeastern part of the USA. By the time we are done cooking, we’ll be so goddamn rich, we ain’t going to know where to hide our money.”