by Ryan Horvath
Art turned to the bitch sisters. He dropped his pistol, lashed out a hand and grabbed Karen Thomas by the neck. He pulled her to him and smiled at her while she scratched at his wrist and kicked in the air. He was careful not to crush her neck, wanting only to make her pass out. “I’m glad I didn’t kill you when I did your miserable dipshit husband, you meddling little cunt. You and me and little sissy are going to have some real fun!” he said with hot breath on her. He faintly heard a dog bark and then terrible pain spread throughout his back.
Please! Help me! Blaze said.
River looked at him, then at the giant man with the woman in his grasp.
What can we do? River said.
We have to do something. That man killed my Masters George and Ann. He can’t kill my Master Karen and her sister. Please! Blaze explained.
Okay. I’ll help. What do you want me to do? River agreed and asked.
Do you still have your claws? Blaze asked.
Of course I have my claws. Why wouldn’t I? What a silly question. Are you slow of mind? This was the first dog River had ever interacted with. She wondered if all dogs were like this.
Use your claws Blaze instructed. He was getting frustrated with the cat even though he knew their meeting was a good thing.
Okay, Okay. I got it River said.
You hit him high and I’ll hit him low! Blaze directed.
I understand River said.
River bolted in the direction of the giant man and Blaze dashed after her. The cat dug in and built up momentum quickly. When she was about four feet from the giant man she leapt into the air. She positioned herself as she flew through the air to have all four of her paws in front of her. She unsheathed all of her sharp claws. When she connected with the giant man, right at the center of his back, she dug her claws into his flesh and he screamed in shocked pain. He dropped the woman Blaze had called Karen, snarled and tried to get River off his back but she held fast, sinking her sharp claws into the giant man in a new place each time he moved. Apparently, the tautness of his formidable muscles did not allow him to reach the center of his broad back where River had a firm hold.
Seconds later, Blaze sank his teeth into the flesh just above the giant man’s left ankle and the man howled in renewed pain. Blaze tasted the giant man’s blood on his tongue and held on relentlessly as the giant man tried to shake him free. Instead of coming close to doing this, the giant man started to fall backward.
Sensing the change in the giant man’s balance, River walked up the man’s back and over his shoulder and latched onto his chest as he fell. He made no effort to remove her as he was using his hands to try to break his fall. When he was down, the cat stood on his chest and for the briefest second, looked like a champion gladiator standing atop a fallen loser. Her tail flicked rapidly in the air from where it stood perpendicular to her spine.
While the giant man fell, Blaze let go of his calf and jumped between his legs.
Master George always tried to keep me away from this area on him. This has got to be a weak spot Blaze thought. He sank his teeth into the meat between the giant man’s legs and felt something pop in his mouth. The popping sensation was most unpleasant to him but the reaction was most favorable.
The giant man screeched and threw himself into a sitting position, grabbing for the spot Blaze had just clamped down on. River bounded off his chest before he realized she was sitting there and Blaze dashed away.
The giant man screamed something after them as they scurried away.
I can’t believe he would talk to a lady like that River said.
Blaze chuffed in response but what River heard was a laugh.
Karen struggled futilely against the hold of the man who had killed her husband. She had watched him fling a grown man far away with only one hand so what chance did she have against him. And Amanda had passed out again, succumbing to the dehydration, or the fatigue, or whatever, so there would be no help there.
Stars began to dance in her eyes as her oxygen diminished. Soon multi-colored spots of various sizes accompanied them. She had run out of time.
Then, suddenly, the pressure on her windpipe was gone and she was dropping. She landed hard on her bottom and her hands instinctively flew to her throat, as if to reassure her that the crushing force that had been there was indeed gone. She opened her eyes and tried to blink away the twinkling sparks that danced before them. When her vision cleared enough, she saw an amazing thing.
Blaze and the cat that had been with Jack were doing what looked like a dance with the assassin. The cat was clinging to his back and Blaze was shaking his leg between his fangs. It would have been comical if the assassin hadn’t been howling in pain. In spite of the man’s turmoil, Karen felt a great measure of satisfaction. She watched the assassin topple over at the attack of the animals. When he was down, she found herself wishing like hell that she had a camera even though the image she saw would be forever engraved in her mind. The cat, a beautiful tortoiseshell with yellow-green eyes and a line bisecting her face with caramel colored brown fur on the right side of her face and coffee colored fur on the left. Karen was all but certain the cat was a she. The cat stood there momentarily on the assassin’s chest looking victorious and her tail flicked indignantly, as if to prove he shouldn’t have messed with her, before Blaze moved in and took a bite of the assassin’s genitals. The assassin screamed in agony and bolted upright as the animals scampered away.
Karen seized this opportunity and shook her sister.
“Amanda!” she shouted.
Amanda stirred but did not wake up.
Karen slapped her and Amanda’s eyes flew open.
“You bat shit fucking cunt cat and cock gobbling shit eating mutt!” they heard the assassin scream from where he sat cradling his genitals.
“We’re still alive?” Amanda said.
“You’re damn right we are. Now get up! We have to move.” Karen pulled Amanda up and supported her by pulling her right arm around her shoulder. She looked behind her and saw the assassin had noticed they were up and moving away and he started to rise too.
“Oh no you don’t, my little bitch sisters. Your fucking queer ass mutt might have damaged my balls but my cock is still going to rip you to shreds!” the assassin leered from where he was rising. He began to pursue them in spite of the agony he must be feeling.
Then, as he was closing in on them, Karen heard a gunshot and the assassin stopped and fell to his knees in the dust. A moment later, it was over.
Brian and Jack carried their dying friend into the barn, which was the closest structure to where Ian had gone down.
They laid him down in the straw and Jack examined the wound. Ian’s eyes were partially closed but he was still breathing in short sputtery breaths.
Blood poured from the open hole on the front of Ian’s neck. Jack knelt down and confirmed that the bullet had passed through Ian’s neck entirely and blood oozed from a wound there as well. That meant it didn’t hit his spine but it probably hit his jugular, based on the copious amounts of dark blood that was pooling next to Ian. Jack yanked his shirt off and used it to staunch the flow of blood coming from his friend.
“The bullet went through him. If I just keep pressure on it…,” Jack said.
“Maybe he’ll heal!” Brian finished.
“Maybe,” Jack said but he didn’t sound too hopeful. “He’s lost so much blood.”
“Keep trying!” Brian almost shouted. “We can’t lose him. Jesus, Jack! Who the fuck is that guy?”
“I don’t know,” Jack responded. “Give me your shirt. Quickly!” He held out his hand.
Brian stripped off his shirt and Jack used it to replace his shirt which was nearly soaked with the red liquid of Ian’s life. In the process of the change, Jack noticed the blood flow had slowed. That probably meant Ian didn’t have long. The young man lay in the barn straw and looked pale and ashen. His breathing had become shallower.
Tears stung Brian’s eyes as he watched the life dra
ining from his friend. “That sick fuck knew him. He called Ian by name.” An angry furrow creased his brow.
“I know. I don’t know what to tell you. That woman said he was after them,” Jack said.
But Brian didn’t respond. He had left the barn while Jack was focused on keeping pressure on Ian’s neck.
Brian stepped out of the barn into the gloaming in time to see the dog that had arrived with the women let go of the crazy man’s groin and scurry away with River. Seeing River comfortable with the dog meant that Brian was right that the women and dog were not a threat. The threat had been the man who was now getting to his feet and going after the women again.
Brian walked ten paces, raised the Walther that had not left his hand since Jack had placed it there and took aim. His hand was steady and true. He squeezed the trigger and his bullet found its mark. It entered just between the shoulder blades of the crazy man who had invaded their lives and cost him his friend and the man fell to his knees. Seconds later, he was flat on his stomach.
Brian approached the crazy man with his gun held on him. When he was standing over the crazy man, Brian fired again and again. He fired until he had emptied the Walther’s magazine into the crazy man’s back and when he was done firing, the crazy man lay still.
Art felt nine bullets enter his chest cavity and rattle around in his ribcage damaging blood vessels and tearing through organs. He stared at the ground helplessly where he fell as the light left his eyes and reality faded from view. The person who had gunned him down was visible from the corner of his eye and Art realized that it was the man he had never gotten a name for. He lamented over underestimating the man and the man’s face was burned onto Art’s corneas. However, just before he expired, he felt something, something he had never felt before. He didn’t know what it was. It was there and then, Art Spektor’s damaged heart stopped beating.
62
AFTER ART
“It’s okay,” Brian said to the two women. “I’m not going to hurt you. I know… It’s okay. You’re okay.” He was holding his left hand out and up in a placating manner while his right hand still clutched the Walther, which he held pointed to the ground. A wisp of thin smoke crept out of the barrel of the pistol. Brian could see fear and distrust in the women’s eyes as they looked back and forth between him and the gun in his hand. But he also noticed a huge sense of relief in them in that they were no longer being pursued by the man who now lay stone dead in the dirt a few feet away.
“It’s okay,” Brian repeated, taking a cautious step forward.
Brian could clearly tell the two women were related. Cousins probably; although maybe sisters. As he stepped forward, the older of the two women stepped in front of the younger one and Brian was then sure they were sisters. The older had just moved into protect the younger.
“Whoa. Easy. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” Brian reiterated. “What’re your names?”
The older woman looked at Brian and then down to his gun.
“Please,” Karen said hoarsely. “The gun,” she choked out.
Brian had all but forgotten it and he looked down at himself. He realized what he must look like to the women. His jeans were dirty at the knees; he wasn’t wearing a shirt; his torso was splattered with blood as was the waistband of his underwear which protruded about half an inch above the waist of his jeans. And to round it out, they’d just seen him murder a man.
“Jesus,” Brian said. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back, squatted down, set the Walther on the ground, and stood back up. “Don’t worry. It’s empty. He got the full mag,” he said, nodding his head to where the dead stranger lay. “Our friend. That man shot our friend. It’s his blood. He’s dying. Jack’s a nurse but…” Brian looked at them hopefully. “Are either of you a doctor? What’re your names?” he asked them again.
“No,” Amanda said shakily from behind her sister. “We’re not doctors.”
Blaze and River bounded over to them, Blaze barked and River meowed.
Karen and Amanda instantly knelt and held fast to the dog, each scratched one of his ears. River was eager to be scooped up by Brian and she was careful not to scratch him.
“Sorry, River. Without Jack or Ian, I can’t understand you.” His voice choked on the mention of his fallen friend’s name.
River meowed to Blaze and he responded in a series of barks. The dog then barked to Karen.
Karen was visibly shaken by what she had heard from the dog. But then tears welled up in her eyes and she broke out laughing in relief.
“What’s so funny?” Brian asked looking puzzled.
“Blaze says River says we’re the ones you’ve been waiting for,” Karen blubbered in a raspy voice.
Brian could see ugly bruises forming on her neck. He looked down at River seeking her confirmation for what he already knew to be correct. He’d known since they had all left the house. Even though he couldn’t understand her meows without his friends, he didn’t need to this time as her inflection and the twinkle in her eyes were clear enough. It’s true.
Amanda spoke up. “This is my sister Karen. I’m Amanda. And this guy is Blaze.” She kissed his ear and he licked her chin in return. “Oh!” Amanda gasped. “If it weren’t for him, and well, I guess, you too, then we’d be dead by now… maybe worse,” she added thinking of the way the assassin’s massive erection has protruded from his body.
“I’m Brian, and this is River… But I guess you already got that from Blaze,” Brian said looking at Karen. “Oh Geez!” he exclaimed, when he noticed Simon’s body where it lay some twenty feet from the madman’s corpse. “Him too? Can you help me?”
Karen and Amanda exchanged a look and rose. Tears still shone on Karen’s cheeks and Amanda used her arm to cover her breasts.
“Oh,” Brian said, noticing Amanda’s modesty. “I’d give you my shirt, but it looks like we’re in the same boat.” He patted his bare muscular chest and laughed. “But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t play for the team that would stare at you… Amanda.”
Amanda blushed but felt more at ease with Brian.
“Here, c’mon,” He set River back on the ground, waved and headed over to Simon’s body. He stepped right over the fallen stranger that he had murdered only moments ago. River took after him.
“Save your strength,” Karen said to Amanda. “I’ll go help.” She followed after Brian, taking a wide arc around the dead assassin’s body and met Brian at the site of his fallen friend. Amanda followed slowly with Blaze by her side.
Karen was filling up with questions. What had the cat meant? Had they been drawn here? Where was her husband; her younger husband? And why hadn’t he recognized her and instead pulled a shot gun on her?
It seemed answers wouldn’t surface immediately as she stepped up to the body of the man that Brian had identified as Simon Shepherd. The name rang familiar with Karen but she had absolutely no idea from where or when.
The man was lying in prairie dust on his left side. His left arm was stretched above his head. He too was shirtless and Karen had seen the assassin tear off his shirt when he threw the man. The man looked extraordinarily young but because of the road rash on most of the left side of his face, he was no longer as handsome as when Karen had first seen him, during a vision. That seemed so long ago to her now. The left side of his countenance was a mess of dirt and embedded pebbles coated with thickening blood. His torso was also marked similarly and though she couldn’t see it, Karen guessed the side of Mr. Shepherd’s arm that was against the ground sustained a similar injury.
Brian knelt down to the man.
“Oh my God!” Amanda gasped when she saw the body. “Is he-?”
Brian pressed his index and middle fingers to Simon’s jugular. He looked hopeful and quickly relocated his search to Simon’s wrist.
“He’s alive!” Brian announced. He got in close and put his face a few inches from the unconscious man’s. He lightly slapped the good side of Simon’s face. “Simon? Simon?” Brian
knew it was possible Simon had a concussion and that it wasn’t good for him to be asleep but he wasn’t sure about moving him. “What happened to him?” Brian asked. “Did either of you see?”
“That man threw him,” Karen said in her frog-like voice. “I’ve never seen something like that. I mean, your friend’s gotta weigh, what, one-hundred-seventy-five pounds? And that monster tossed him twenty feet like he was a football.”
“Okay,” Brian said and returned his attention to Simon. “Hey, buddy? Can you wake up for me?” He slapped Simon a few more times.
Simon’s face scrunched up and he slid back into consciousness. He groaned.
“Hey. Earth to Dr. Shepherd. Do… you… read… me?” Brian asked, stretching the last part out to sound like an echo.
Something akin to déjà vu again touched Karen when she heard the man on the ground addressed in this different manner.
Simon focused his eyes on Brian and then on the women standing just behind him. “Arrgh. Damn! Why couldn’t one of those angels have been the first thing I saw instead of someone I don’t stand a chance with?” He gave Brian a weak smile and rolled over onto his back.
“Fuck you,” Brian said but he had clearly understood and accepted Simon’s joke. “What hurts? Anything broken?”
“Ugh. My face fucking hurts.” Simon’s right hand started to move to the left side of his face.
Brian grabbed Simon’s wrist before he could touch his face and said in a joking manner, “Yeah, and it looks like shit too. Better not touch it. Let’s let the nurse take a look first.”
“Shit,” Simon muttered. “Is it bad?”
“It’s not good. But don’t worry,” Brian replied.
“Why’s that?” Simon asked.
“When you’re all healed up, maybe I’ll call you ‘pretty boy,’” Brian bantered.
Simon chuckled and winced as his laughter sent ripples of pain out from his injuries. His laughter faded quickly. “Ian?”
Brian hadn’t forgotten about his close friend and he hoped he was dead by now. He didn’t want Ian to suffer and had left the barn to avenge him and to miss seeing the light go out of his eyes. He knew he’d succeeded in half of that desire and prayed the other half had come to pass as well. But if Ian had died, Jack would be back out here by now. A quick check over his shoulder at the barn confirmed Jack hadn’t come out.
