The Breadwinner Trilogy (Book 3): All Good Things

by Stevie Kopas

  Catherine, shaking in King’s arms, said nothing.

  “Don’t fuckin’ toy with me. I’m done with these bullshit games, woman. Are you, or aren’t you, a doctor?”

  “Yes,” she finally responded, her voice shaking. “I am a doctor.”

  “Good girl.” Drake patted her atop her head and snapped a finger at Freeman. “Get them back downstairs and keep guns on ‘em.” Turning toward Michelle, he relit his never-ending cigar. “Think that was something you could have told me earlier?”

  Michelle shrugged, “I didn’t think they’d end up being such a problem. Especially Nancy Drew.”

  “Women are always a problem.”

  Michelle opened her mouth to say something but decided against it and pulled her cigarettes from her pocket.

  “So lemme ask you somethin’, did you pull that doctor card out now because you didn’t want to see them two bite the dust?”

  Michelle snorted, lighting a cigarette. “Trust me, I’d like nothing more than to see that ginger bitch eat shit.” She exhaled a puff of smoke into the air. “But doctors are a rare commodity these days. Everybody knows that.” She raised an eyebrow, giving him a sexy pout.

  Drake shook his head and licked his lips. He couldn’t wait to get her naked again. “I was right about you. We’re gonna get along just fine.”

  ***

  Catherine and Veronica were taken back to their makeshift holding cell. Freeman and King, guns at the ready, kept watch at the locked door in case the two captives decided to make any more escape attempts.

  Catherine wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the morning’s unfortunate turn of events, but the sky was bright as ever. The sun hid behind overcast clouds, keeping her from determining the time of day. She was almost grateful for it. If she were somehow made aware of the mere hours that had passed, she’d surely begin to believe she was truly in hell.

  “I wish you would have kept your mouth shut.” Veronica said, anger filling her voice.

  Catherine furrowed her brow, casting the girl an odd glance.

  “On the roof, you wouldn’t shut up.”

  “Veronica,” Catherine shook her head, bewildered by Veronica’s statement. “They would have killed you.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what I wanted, Cat.” Veronica, her eyes red from both exhaustion and emotion. “This is the end of the line. Ben is dead. Andrew, Clyde, Gary, they’re gone.” Her voice began to waver and she paused, taking a deep breath. “I killed a man today.”

  “It’s going to be—“

  “No!” Veronica sharply countered, “Nothing is going to be okay. I’ve lived through this, all of this, for what? I watched my father die, my brother, my friends. Even strangers, people just won’t stop dying and the dead are walking around outside eating people and what the hell is the point anymore? And now, thanks to you, God knows what the hell will happen to us here!” Veronica’s voice grew in volume and Freeman shot her a nasty look through the glass.

  Catherine was shocked. “Thanks to me?” She pointed a finger in Veronica’s face. “I went along with your silly little escape plan. We could have gotten out of here! But no, you flew off the handle and nearly got yourself, and me, killed!”

  “And now that option is out the window! Just great!” Veronica shouted back at her. “You see what they’re doing to those women in there. You’re a doctor, congratulations. You know what I’ll be good for here. I’ve come this far and lived through this much bullshit just to suffer at the hands of some sick freaks. I’d rather be dead!”

  “Keep it down in there!” Freeman hollered, his weapon trained on the glass.

  Catherine leaned in to Veronica. “I just can’t accept that, I’m sorry.” she whispered. “We have lived through all this hell on earth because of one simple fact, Veronica. We wanted to. Giving up is the easy way out, but I am no defeatist, and neither are you. We keep pushing, and we keep going, until we can’t anymore, but we make sure that we damn well go out with a bang. So yes, I screamed my ass off on that roof, I was willing to risk my own life on you, because I’ll be damned if after all this you ended up thrown from a roof by a bunch of Goddamn bullies and eaten alive.”

  Veronica, angry but embarrassed, sat silent on the edge of the desk. Rolling Catherine’s words around in her head.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Catherine wiped a tear from her eye.

  The lock clicked loudly in the door and Freeman swung it open. “Let’s go, Doc. Boss wants to see ya. This one stays here.” He raised his gun in Catherine’s direction when she didn’t make a move from her seat. “Get a move on.”

  Catherine reluctantly rose from the desk and followed Freeman from the room. King shut the door and locked it, shoving Catherine forward. The redhead looked back at Veronica, but the girl had already turned her back to the glass.

  IV

  Catherine plodded after her captor. King was muscular with tattoos that covered his thick neck and broad shoulders. Catherine couldn’t help but want to shave the ridiculous sideburns that ran down his face. She looked away from him, stealing a glance at one of the side office rooms she’d yet to visit; her heart broke for the drugged-up women inside. She locked eyes with one of them, a malnourished blonde in her early twenties. The vacancy in her eyes was even less comforting than the fact that Catherine knew what they were doing to her. Catherine hoped the girl hadn’t completely checked out, but then retracted her previous thought, replacing it with the hope that the girl was completely oblivious to this apocalyptic dungeon. She thought back on what Veronica had said. Maybe she was right. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she turned her eyes away from the room and continued walking. She hoped she’d be able to keep these monsters from claiming Veronica as their own.

  King rounded a corner and they made their way down a narrow hall toward the rear of the building. Drake waited near an open wooden door.

  King stopped short and Catherine nearly ran into him. “Boss.” He nodded.

  Drake returned the nod. “Come on in, Doc.” It was more of an order than it was an invitation, as King grabbed her left arm and shoved her into the poorly lit closet. The shelves were a disheveled mix of pharmaceuticals and various medical supplies. Catherine’s eyes scanned the items and cringed at the unsanitary conditions in which the instruments were kept.

  “Three things,” Drake said from the doorway. Catherine turned her attention back to him. “Aside from the good shit, I don’t know what half these drugs are. That’s why you’re gonna label it all in terms that we can understand. I’m also gonna need you to patch up Freeman; if you recall, your little friend did quite the number on him. Lastly, that good shit I was talkin’ about, we’re runnin’ out of it. That’s where you come in.”

  Catherine shrugged, rolling her eyes. “I’m a doctor, not a chemist.”

  Drake sighed, aggravated. He leaned against the doorframe and continued. “I don’t need you to make the shit, I need you to go with King and replace it. We ran out of heroin a long time ago and now the morphine is in short supply.”

  Catherine shot him a look of contempt. “I can’t believe you would even believe for a second that I’d help you harm those women any further or feed your pathetic drug addictions. Consider how stupid that even sounds! You lucked out, you have a doctor. And you want to risk that asset on a drug run? Brilliant. I’m amazed you’ve survived this long.”

  King narrowed his eyes. “I’d watch your tone of voice if I were you.”

  “How ‘bout you consider this… you’re smart. What’s an addict in detox like?” Drake sneered as Catherine considered his statement. “Now imagine an entire building full of ‘em. Everybody shivering and shaking, shittin’ themselves and screaming non-stop. Everybody ‘cept you and me. It’ll be a real nice time, watchin’ those girls in there seize up and die right before your eyes.”

  She shook her head. “There are some things worse than death. It would be a blessing for them.”

  “Ah, fuck it.�
� Drake threw his arms up in defeat. “I tried, Doc. I thought you’d be easy to reason with. Michelle was right, time to use the other one as leverage.”

  “You’re insane! Think of what you’re risking by sending me out there. What happens if I get killed? No doctor for you, or anybody in here.”

  “Oh it’s worth the risk, trust me.” Drake turned and left the closet.

  King reached in and grabbed Catherine by the arm. She knew better than to pull away but still struggled against his grip. He led her back down the hall after Drake. “If you harm her, I’ll do nothing to help you!” she cried out.

  Drake grinned. “That’s what you think.”

  The trio reentered the lobby and marched toward Freeman. “Open up,” Drake called out to the man standing guard. Freeman obliged and grabbed for his keys.

  Veronica turned her head when she heard the lock click. Drake strolled up to the glass office, looking smug as usual. King, with Catherine in tow, followed close behind.

  “Grab her,” Drake ordered.

  Freeman leered as he pulled Veronica from her seat atop the desk.

  “Hey! Get your hands off me!” Veronica shouted in protest, but Freeman twisted her arms behind her back, causing her to let out a short yelp.

  Drake entered the room, his hulking frame causing her to feel as if the room had shrunk in size. “Sit Doc down there.” Drake pointed toward the corner opposite him.

  King bent to right the overturned chair and slammed Catherine down hard. He positioned himself beside her, his rifle just inches from her temple. Catherine felt the sweat begin to form on her back.

  “Alright, Doc, last chance. You go get me my drugs and we leave Princess here alone. Not even a scratch on her.”

  “Fuck you!” Veronica shouted, kicking Drake in the knee. “Catherine, you don’t listen to anything that they say. Don’t help them!” She struggled against Freeman but feared her shoulders would be torn from their sockets. She continued to kick, even as Freeman hoisted her up and slammed her back down onto the desk.

  Drake reared his arm back, seemingly unfazed by the blow to his leg, and backhanded her hard across the face. “That was for the kick.” He turned to Catherine. “Last chance.”

  “Leave her alone! She doesn’t deserve this!” Catherine hollered in protest.

  Drake nodded at Freeman, who pulled Veronica’s head up off the desk. Drake delivered another strike to her face, but this time with a closed fist of stone. Blood flew from Veronica’s mouth as her face moved with the force from the punch. Her top lip now split against one of her canines. Veronica ran her tongue over a bottom tooth and felt it wiggle. She was sure she would lose some teeth today.

  “Catherine listen to me, don’t you dare help them!” Veronica yelled, her resilience renewed.

  Catherine cried out in horror as Drake reared back and struck Veronica again, this time the loosened tooth flying from her mouth. Veronica dazed, stars dancing before her eyes and the sharp pain from her jaw pulsed through her body in shock-waves. She spat, a mixture of saliva and blood dribbling from her swollen lips. She shot a pleading glance in Catherine’s direction and shook her head, nostrils flaring. It was not a look that asked for help, but rather warned of giving in to them.

  “Hmm.” Drake raised a finger to his lips and mimicked deep thought.

  He reached out and snatched Veronica’s left arm from Freeman’s grasp, slamming her open palm onto the desk. He placed pressure down onto her wrist and Veronica squirmed. Pulling a knife from his back pocket, he flicked his wrist and the blade snapped out. Veronica’s eyes went wide and Catherine’s stomach fluttered. Catherine, without thinking, attempted to rush to the girl’s side but was met with the butt of King’s weapon. It collided with her sternum and she was knocked back into her chair, gulping for air. She threw a hand out. “Stop!” she managed to cry out between gasps.

  Drake lowered the blade, stopping to hover just centimeters above Veronica’s ring and pinky fingers. He looked to Catherine.

  “Please, stop!” Catherine screamed, both hands held out toward the man, pleading. “I’ll do it, I’ll go with King!”

  “Good girl.” The corners of Drake’s lips curled and he closed the gap between his blade and the desk beneath it, slicing through Veronica’s fingers, flesh and bone detaching, like they were butter.

  Veronica let out a deafening scream and Catherine lunged forward, this time meeting no obstacle.

  “I think you’ve finally learned your lesson,” Drake said to the frantic redhead as she tore the sleeves from her blouse and wrapped Veronica’s trembling hand, applying pressure to the fresh wound. “King, grab Doc some supplies from the closet so she can get Princess cleaned up.” He bent and retrieved Veronica’s severed fingers from the grungy carpet. “Think I’ll hang onto these.”

  V

  Michelle gripped the bottle of Cognac, watching as Drake inflicted blow after blow upon Veronica. She hated to admit it, but she actually liked the girl. She’d put up one hell of a fight today, more than once. She could tell Veronica wasn’t the type to just roll over and take it. Unfortunately for Veronica, though, this was Drake’s house.

  When Drake pulled the knife from his pocket, Michelle’s stomach turned. Earlier on the roof, she’d made sure that Veronica stayed alive. Had it all been for nothing? Oh how she wished Catherine were in Veronica’s place on that desk.

  Michelle watched as Drake brought the knife up to Veronica’s long, skinny fingers. She cringed. Half of her wanted to watch, the other half, the small bit of humanity she had left, begged her to turn away. She looked down at the bottle and back at the gruesome events unfolding in the office.

  The bottle always wins.

  Michelle slipped away into one of the dark, filthy offices. She quietly closed the door and pulled the lighter from her right front pocket. The small flame illuminated the room enough that she spotted a flashlight near the far corner. As she crept toward it, bottle in hand, a groan off to her left froze her in her tracks.

  “Hello?” Michelle called out into the darkness, her grip on the bottle tightening. There would be other opportunities to drink alone… the Cognac was now her weapon.

  She heard the groan again, followed by a whisper.

  “Who’s there?” the voice asked.

  Michelle’s muscles relaxed; it was one of the captive women. She fetched the flashlight and flicked it on, pointing it toward the ceiling, casting dim light around the room.

  She could see the woman’s face now: bruised and swollen cheeks, eyeliner and mascara streaking her pale face. Dried blood crusted the sides of her mouth. It was eerie how much she resembled one of the dead.

  “Are you the new girl?” the woman asked, curiosity mixed with hope lit up her eyes.

  Michelle shook her head. “Yeah, but… not in the way you think.” She pulled the top from the bottle and took a long swig.

  “Can I have some?” the woman asked, licking her lips.

  Michelle shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  The emaciated blonde grabbed the bottle from Michelle with greedy hands and turned it up, gulping down the brown liquor. Michelle frowned and snatched the bottle back, cleaning the mouth of it off with her shirt.

  “Thanks,” the blonde muttered, wiping her mouth with her frail forearm.

  “How long have you been here?” Michelle asked, taking another swig.

  The blonde furrowed her brow, thinking hard. She shook her head. “I… I don’t know.”

  A scream erupted from beyond the closed door. Michelle knew who it had come from. She grimaced, wondering how much damage Drake had done.

  “Was that the new girl?” the woman asked, staring blankly at the door behind Michelle.

  Michelle ignored her question and pulled a cigarette out, before she put the pack back in her pocket, she held it out to the woman.

  “Thanks.” The woman accepted a cigarette and a light from Michelle, sucking in the smoke as if her life depended on it.

  The two sat
in silence for a moment longer, smoking, staring at one another. Michelle didn’t know whether to feel pity or envy for the stranger.

  Must be nice to lay in bed all day, high as a kite and unaware of what’s happening all around you.

  Michelle cocked her head, studying the woman’s wounds. The bruises on her face were accompanied by track marks up and down both arms, and more bruising decorated her legs and thighs.

  “Pity, definitely pity,” Michelle said.

  “Pity what?” the woman asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Nothing.” Michelle shook her head, not meaning to speak aloud. She finished off the bottle and let it drop from her fingertips. It fell with a thud to the filth-covered, generic office carpeting and she leaned her head back, rolling her neck from side to side. The warmth from the alcohol spread through her mid-section, and she sighed, welcoming the familiar feeling of a good, strong buzz.

  “Why are you in here?”

  Michelle’s head snapped up and she glared at the pathetic woman sprawled on the disgusting desk.

  “None of your fucking business,” Michelle barked.

  The woman winced in response to the tone in Michelle’s voice. “I-I’m sorry. I just… I don’t get any visits from other women here.” The woman stared at Michelle for a moment before putting her cigarette out.

  “Do you know what’s going on out there?”

  “Out where?” The woman was confused.

  “Anywhere, dummy. Out in the lobby, in the other rooms, outside? The world? Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Michelle’s voice was filled with disgust.

  The blonde shook her head. “I’m not sure. I remember bad dreams…” Her voice trailed off and her face went blank. She was suddenly child-like. “Demons eating people. All of the people… but Freeman… Freeman, he got out of jail early and he came and saved me.” She smiled then, baring her chipped teeth.

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Freeman saved you? From what?”