Again.
When I saw the shack in the distance, I slowed down and slinked to the higher ground just above it. I observed it for several minutes. No sound. I wondered what I would tell Jenny.
"Hey," I said sheepishly. I was still covered in blood.
She looked me up and down before finding some clothes and handing them to me. Her eyes were no longer trusting.
"When did you say Big Lee and pa were coming back?" Her eyes pierced me like a knife and it took all my energy to maintain eye contact.
Carol was gone. What I'd been clinging onto was something I couldn't believe in anymore. If I did I would lose. Yet I knew how the wife had reacted, and so too would this woman if she knew the truth. But that didn't have to be. I let the voice, my balls, speak.
"They haven't come back?" I screwed my face at her. "They should've been here yesterday at the latest. Are you certain?"
She seemed stunned, as if I slapped her. I liked that in her. I liked weakness in her.
"You think, you think they're...?" She held her hands to her face; her eyes welled up.
I stepped to her and hugged her. "I'll go look for them soon. All right?"
She cried and squeezed me. The firmness of her breasts, the small waist made my blood flow. I sensed a sharpness to the world. To her.
I made some food from the rations. Gave her some, and she ate. I watched her pouting lips devour the meal.
I rolled out a blanket and made sure my gun was next to me. I looked at her. "Sleep here," I ordered more than asked.
Carol's image flashed. Be good.
No, don't.
She was more hesitant than willing, but when I lay down, she slid next to me. Her body was warm under the covers. The blood started to rush, explode through my veins, my heart in a weightless state. My cock's skin was stretched to a point of pain. I turned to her. She put her lips next to my neck. It wasn't meant to be sensuous; I could tell that she meant nothing by it, but the voice wouldn't listen. This was not the path to a better world, where trust would be the glue amongst people. My thoughts whispered. But there was a beat in my heart that even I couldn't control.
I placed my hand on her thigh. Supple, soft. She seemed willing. I slipped my hand under her dress and on her thigh.
She flinched, but didn't move.
She was innocent.
I was hungry.
Her fear I could smell, but something in me confused it—or wanted to confuse it—for desire of the unknown.
I gave myself another chance to stop. Part of me still wanted to stop, to take a measured approach to this, to be nice, to slowly gain her trust. The rest of me laughed, mocked this part and said take it, she is one of the spoils in the battles you have fought.
Was it the memory of Carol that motivated me? Her soft, warm body that I missed and wanted to taste again? Or was it the dead bodies of Big Lee and Johnny? Their twisted bodies being eaten by insects, punishment for trying to end me—was this one more strike at their folly? No. I stopped thinking of Carol or Jenny's family.
My other hand slowly moved across her chest and barely touched her breasts. Soft. My hands rubbed harder. Then pressed down. My heart beats like a drum, like a drum from an ancient ritual.
Mine.
All mine.
The reward would come soon. I rolled myself on her, my knees on her thighs, pinning her down, my hand now on her shoulders. Her mouth—that sensuous mouth—let out a slight wail of strain. That should have stopped me, that would have stopped me a few days ago, but I wouldn't. Couldn't.
The voice wouldn't.
My cock was roaring, and I flipped up, ripped her dress. Her arms reached up trying to push me off, but she wasn't strong enough. Her legs, those amazing hips and thighs squirmed under me, but weren't in the right place. I pulled out my cock. I leaned in for a kiss.
Her head seemed frozen, as if she was asking for more.
A lie to make the moment better.
I kissed her slowly, for a moment I tried to seduce her. Rubbed my lips against her. Her eyes seemed to look at me in awe. It might not have been awe, but that's what I wanted it to be. And I kissed her and she seemed to kiss me back. But I couldn't be certain, so I kissed her again. The voice, my cock, growled at me, swayed like gorillas, told me to stop fucking around and start fucking. No one is here to judge. Nothing is here to judge. Just you and her.
She kissed me back.
I absorbed her saliva with joy—she'd stopped kicking. Her arms were around me. She had no one else. She had nothing else—not in this world—she knew this and knew that I was hers, as much as she was mine. She'd realized this and came to her senses.
My hand felt between her legs, it was wet. I slid inside her, and she arched like a frozen gymnast, her mouth open, almost screamed. It took a few thrusts to get all the way inside her. When I finally pushed deep inside, the welcoming feel was so overwhelming, so everything that made my hips move, that made life worth it, that it only took a few extra thrusts before I came.
I collapsed on top of her breasts. Slid off her with great effort. She rested her head on my chest, as if she'd wanted it all along, but in her eyes I could see that she was looking elsewhere, thinking of something else. Maybe even someone else, but that didn't bother me.
Before I went to sleep I felt her up, still amazed at what I had, and entered her one more time.
The part that had told me to stop, not overpower her, was now the only thing that stood up and spoke inside me. It spoke and filled me with a horrendous feeling. What had I done? What had I become? I was a fool, a beast. I wanted to apologize. Instead, I just stared at her as she averted her gaze and pretended to go to sleep. I would apologize to her in due time, I thought, but for that moment I had to sleep.
*
The next day I awoke to see her standing over me. My eyes darted to her hands. They were empty. They grasped her thighs, then each other. Something was bothering her. Something. Of course, I thought, you've acted like a complete animal. I got up and placed my hand on her shoulder. I wanted her forgiveness. She didn't react to my touch, to my look, to my: "How are you feeling today?" I almost wanted to reenact the previous night, just to get some passion out of her. She stared at the bed we had slept in, as if it were some ghost speaking to her. What was it saying?
I pulled out some rations, divided them into two, and handed her half. She took it and ate quietly. I looked over at the bed again, and realized that it was covered with blood.
Oh.
I could smell the sweet metallic blood. It filled my nostrils and filtered down to my stomach. From there it wormed its way to my heart, and I felt sick.
This was not the way it should've happened. I should've earned her trust. But how? Was it supposed to be before or after she found out I killed her family? Don't be a fool. This was the only way. I remembered reading about ancient tribes, how volatile their societies were, wrecked with violence. When they vanquished their foes, they would murder all the men, and take the women as chattel. A way to expand the tribe, to expand enjoyment, and expand their genetic material. It had always seemed like the wrong way to live; yet here in a similar situation it seemed like the smartest route for me. There was no other way.
After I'd finished my meal, I looked at her slowly chewing her food. It would take her a while, but she had to accept reality. She had to stay here, and as far as I was concerned this was my place. I'd won it. It was my choice whether she stayed. I didn't say this as I surveyed the hut. There was plenty of floor space, but no place to eat a meal on, or to study. A sheet of metal lay on the floor. I grabbed it, scraping the packed dirt floor, and I leaned it against the wall. I piled the ammo cans into three separate but equal stacks and placed the sheet metal on them.
"This is our table," I said. "We will now eat here." She was still staring at the bed, the blood. It didn't seem right, as if she was in a shell. I walked to her and lifted her chin. I wanted some recognition. She looked up at me, not with fear, not with hate, but without
a sliver of recognition.
My heart sank. I'd been a monster to her. What was I thinking? Time, she needed time.
I walked back to the new table and pulled out my map. I marked where we were, the cave, and approximately where Bill and Paul lived. I remembered that I wouldn't want all these places to be found by anyone with the map. So I picked a few other random places and marked them with letters. Every third letter was a legitimate site. I drank some water. It was horrid, like urine.
"Where did they get this water from?" I asked her. She looked at me then back at the bed. This was too much. There was a world to rebuild, and she didn't seem to understand that. I strode over to her with a great force in my step. She jumped back, a startled deer, I grabbed the blanket, that was almost stiff from the dried blood, and threw it outside. We would deal with it later. For now I needed to get water. "Where did they get water from?" I raised my voice.
She looked at me, fear in her eyes. "I don't know. Some of it is from our piss."
I convulsed at the thought; then remembered that it wasn't so bad: just water, some minerals, and ammonia. I'd get real water today. Clean, clear, water, that she'd be amazed by. She'd come around slowly. I was in the right here, I repeated in my head. I walked out of the shack, gun in hand, backpack full of containers, and a heavy weight in my stomach.
The walk to the cave was uneventful. The sky seemed the same bleak nothingness that it had always been. A few rays peeked out, but what I had considered wondrous was now banal.
When I came back she was sitting in the same chair.
She was taking this act too far.
"Are you ever going to get up and do something?" I half-yelled.
She looked up at me. No words; looked right through me in fact. Half of me wanted to plead with her, wanted to ask for something from her mind, but the other half was willing to drag her through this world, whatever the mood, without a care for anything besides her sex. I pondered this, took her shape in, took her mood in. I'd expected that she would have been more conceding, that the way this world had affected everyone in it, including me, was something she would have to get used to; adjust her little moral world for, not the other way around. I would have to be gentle during that adjustment period.
The water. She would appreciate that. I walked over to her and poured some of the water into a cup. "Drink that up, it tastes great," she looked at the cup, then me. As if I was some monster. It hurt. Didn't she know what I'd been through? "Try it," I said firmly.
She took the cup and drank it all, one gulp, held out the cup for more. I poured more. She drank that up. I poured more. She sipped, stopped and looked at me. "Any sign of pa and Big Lee?"
Was that what was on her mind? Of course, I should've been more understanding. She was my only companion in the entire world. Universe. It was tough to think of it in that manner. And to think that she was going to hate me made it worse. I wanted to confess to her—as I stood there, staring at the abyss of nothingness between us, with the thought that the previous night had been complete evil, even though it'd felt good—that I wished I could've taken it back. Not been a beast, a horrible man, an animal that preys on young flesh. There was a kindness left in me. I was still trying to find a way to her heart, and I contemplated falling on my knees, confessing everything, telling her what had happened, how I had been attacked, been ruthlessly targeted, for no reason. But I didn't, she couldn't possibly understand. Besides, being firm had worked so far. I had been honest the night before with that wife. That's what got me in trouble. Use what she fears, I told myself, use what she is frightened of and sooner or later she will come to see that you are her only hope.
Oh hope.
"Jenny." I lifted her chin so her eyes had to look at me, she stared downwards.
"The water was good," she whispered.
"Big Lee and Johnny." The truth was right there, a scary proposition. One that was almost impossible, but still called me to speak it. "I will start a search for them, but you have to tell me everything you know. It will make it easier to track them. All right?" The lie felt better.
She nodded her head. Her face impassive as ever. I wasn't certain if it had inspired her.
"First, have you ventured out of here? This shack?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"Listen, you want to find your family, right?"
"Yes."
"Then you have to be more cooperative."
The look she gave me struck at my heart like a knife.
Be strong.
"I know you must not like me right now, but believe me," I said as I put on the most earnest face I could manage. "I am trying to help."
Her eyes felt my face like a blind man's hands. "Okay."
"Have you been outside this shack?"
"Only to look around, once."
"They didn't let you out?"
"They did, once it was safe. But that was only a week ago," she said.
"How did they know it was safe?"
"Rats."
"Rats?"
"Yes, in a cage. At first we had to wear suits." She pointed at some sinister looking plastic protective suits on the wall, masks next to them. "The rats died from something outside. Then they didn't." She shivered.
"Then they decided they could go out. They let me take a look, but it scared me too much."
I nodded and reached for her hand, but she shirked back from me. There was nothing between us. One step at a time, I reminded myself.
"And did they find anyone when they started to check things out?"
She shook her head.
"Do the names Bill and Paul sound familiar?"
"Oh... They mentioned them. But they didn't say much. Only that they were our neighbors. Not friends."
That was my in. "Anyone else?"
"No."
She still hadn't looked at my eyes. I would have to get over that. "What about places for water, or food? They mention anything that they found?"
She shook her head.
I raised my hand to my lips to make it look like I was thinking. "I think I will try to find this Paul and Bill. Then we'll see. You want to come out with me?"
"No. It scares me."
"And what about this." I waved my hand at the inside of the shack. "This all you want to see everyday?"
"It's home."
A simple girl. And I'd taken her away from it. Meaning was ripped from my actions.
I remembered Paul and Bill. I would have to confront them. Sooner or later they would either come for me or we'd run into each other at the water hole. Then it would be trouble. Big Lee and Johnny had been right.
I thought about food, if we ever ran out I could set traps for insects and rats. "What about the rats, did you catch any recently?"
"No."
"Any reason?"
"Pa said they're dead too. That soon it would be our turn."
Those words struck me harder than they should've. I grabbed a rifle and two handguns and rustled through the ammunition boxes for more bullets. Paul and Bill. I opened the door and looked outside. Nothing. The sky was still covered in a gray texture. Some rays pierced through. They didn't seem so miraculous. I turned to her. "You know how to shoot?"
She nodded; her eyes were once again fixated on where we had slept the previous night.
"You have a gun?" I asked.
She shook her head; she still refused to look me in the eye.
"You want one?"
"No."
"Why not?" As I spoke I wondered if it was a good idea to give her a weapon in her state. I could very well find myself on the wrong side of the barrel.
"Why does it matter?"
Her dejection was contagious. In the back of my mind I knew that she hadn't been like that when I first met her. "Hey, I'll be back. I'm going to look for your family. Got it?"
She nodded. But that wasn't enough.
"Got it?" I said loudly.
That startled her and she looked up and once again examined my face with her
eyes. "Yes."
I don't know what I'd expected. For her to look at me like what happened last night was an amazing event? That we now had a connection? Yes I wanted that. If she didn't, she was somehow a fool who couldn't see reality for what it was. I shut the door behind me and locked it. It was for her own good.
I approached the cave slowly, hiding behind rocks until I came to the mouth. I listened for some sign of life. Nothing. I moved back to the satellite peak behind the cave and looked in the direction of Paul and Bill's homestead. A line was traced in the distant flat land. The sleds. Unless I watched this path everyday there was no way I could get them. I entertained leaving them alone. No, they were running low on food and would soon be after me. This was no time to be weak. But I felt weak.
The land before me was desolate, a cemetery more than anything else. No wonder Jenny had looked at it once and stayed in the shack. She was more human than I.
Please. Don't. The words rang in my head. I felt the shock of melancholy ripple through my body. Yet I had, over and over again. Who was to blame? Surely it couldn't be my fault? But the look Jenny gave me. What was that? I felt Coral's ghost looking at me.
Silence. My thoughts got louder. What a land. What fruits could it possibly bear? I let my hands catch my face, as my head fell forward. I cried. Sobbed uncontrollably. It was a pathetic show, but without anyone around it didn't matter. I needed the release. Poor Jenny.
Big Lee and Johnny.
The other family.
All dead.
I'd massacred an entire family! Taken the mother prisoner. She must have thought I was horrendous. A madman. Taken advantage of a young woman. These thoughts circled around my head like vultures, each taking their turn to dive. I tried to shake them off. There was nothing anymore, I reminded myself, there was no higher power, no group of peers to judge me. I was alone and free. Besides, the blame could not be laid at my doorstep. I'd been attacked each time. What else could I have done?
A weak wind picked up, blew dry air against my skin. It was chilly, odorless. I wanted to see some weather. Something other than the bleak everyday-nothing that I'd seen so far. Then the wind whipped around, and I smelled flesh, body odor. Not Jenny's sweet smell, but a dirty, grimy, manly smell. I looked in the direction of the wind and stole a quick glance behind me.
When Gods Fail Page 5
