“I thought we were going to get beer,” Trey replied, not entirely comfortable with just barging into people’s homes. The ski resort was okay because it was abandoned, and who cared if you trespassed in an abandoned place? The owner oughta just donate it to the public anyway as far as Trey was concerned.
“Maybe we’ll find some beer inside. Maybe some guns. And if we’re really lucky, we might find some women. A couple of hot ones to warm us up. It’s cold as a witch’s tit out here.”
“You can say that again,“ Trey pretended to agree. He had never understood that expression. Why would a witch have cold tits? A vampire, he could understand, but a witch? He wasn’t going to tell Carl that he didn’t understand it though. No point in making himself look stupid. He’d never heard anyone ask about witch’s tits before, and he didn’t want to be the first.
Carl took a deep drag off his cigarette and flicked the butt into the road.
“Let’s go. Just remember though, we ain’t got guns yet and there could be men around. If there is, we gotta play it smart. Just follow my lead. We’ll act like we’re all shook up about the bomb and such.”
Trey nodded in understanding, flicked his cigarette and adjusted his goggles and his scarf, wrapping it back around his ears and neck. Carl took the lead at a moderate speed, as if he was just a guy coming home, or maybe someone who took a wrong turn.
The gravel part of the road was covered with a light layer of snow. Gravel was hard enough to drive a motorcycle on without adding the near impossibility of snow or ice and Carl was not up to the task. His bike went down.
“God dammit!” Carl yelled. His elbow must’ve hit a sharp rock when he fell. He felt a stinging pain and blood running down his arm. Trey cruised up next to him at three miles per hour with both feet sliding on the street to keep his bike stable. “Not a word outta you!”
Trey said nothing and waited for Carl to lift up his bike, get back on it and start the engine. Carl copied Trey’s slow speed and used his feet as stabilizers the way he saw Trey doing as they slowly approached the six houses.
Two of the houses had cars in their driveways; the first one on the right and the last house on the left. He rolled past the first few and pulled into the driveway of the last house which had a new minivan in the driveway dusted with snow. It had been driven not too long ago. The men got off their bikes and looked around to see if anyone was looking out of their windows or coming outside.
“I’ll do the talkin’,” Carl said, and started walking up the driveway to the small sidewalk which hadn’t been cleared of snow recently. Their boots crunched softly in the inch of accumulation and left prints that almost revealed the concrete.
Carl pressed the doorbell button as soon as they reached the small covered porch. He looked down at the welcome mat. It was some foo-foo Martha Stewart looking thing. At least it meant a woman lived here. No man would buy that shit. And if he did, he wasn’t really a man.
Carl turned around and looked at Trey who was standing behind him. Trey took a deep breath and blew out twin streams of vapor from his nose.
“Get ready,” Carl said.
Trey nodded, but he didn’t look too sure of himself.
Carl slapped Trey’s bicep and wiggled his eyebrows. “This is gonna be great. Just wait ‘n’ see.”
Trey looked past Carl as he saw a face appear at eye-level in the small four-pane window set in the upper part of the door. It was a woman. Carl saw Trey’s eyes focus on something behind him so he turned around to face the door.
A pretty woman with dark hair was looking through the glass with a questioning look on her face. She wasn’t used to unexpected visitors.
“Ma’am, did you see what happened?” Carl asked loudly and pointed to a spot in the distance. The woman could not see what he was pointing at and wondered if there was an emergency.
“There’s been an explosion and everyone has to head to higher elevation till the authorities clear us to come back down. It may not be safe here, ma’am.”
“Who sent you?” the woman asked through the closed door. She was alarmed now, but not pre-disposed to trusting strangers on her porch – especially when they looked like members of a biker gang.
“There aren’t enough deputies to talk to everyone, so they deputized us and asked us to help,” Carl answered.
“Actually, a deputy pulled over when he saw Carl lose control of his bike.” Trey pointed at the fresh blood on the cuff of Carl’s sleeve. “He’s not hurt too bad so the deputy asked if we could help spread the word on the nearby streets that we need to evacuate. He didn’t formally deputize us. Just asked if we could help.”
Carl glared at Trey for making him out to be a liar and possibly ruining their whole plan.
“Ma’am, if you’ll check your phone, you’ll find that it’s not workin’ and that oughta confirm for you that there’s trouble on the mountain,” Trey added.
The woman raised her hand with one finger pointing up, then quickly walked away.
Carl turned to Trey. “Why’d you tell her that?”
“I figure any lines that go through Denver have to be blown to shit right now. Plus there’s that electro-magnet shit that fucks up anything running on electricity.”
Carl didn’t know what Trey was talking about, but before he had time to give it any thought, he heard the door open. He turned around and saw the woman standing in her doorway. She was petite with dark brown hair and dressed in expensive casual clothes.
“Where did the Sheriff’s deputies say we need to go?” she asked.
“Are your phones out, ma’am?” Trey asked the lady.
“Yes. Both my landline and my cell.”
Carl looked at Trey and smiled in admiration. He couldn’t believe Trey was actually that smart. He turned back to the woman. “We have to hurry, ma’am. Could you tell everyone inside they gotta get out?”
Trey added, “They said it might be a few hours before we can come back down. Sorry to be the bearers of bad news. I’m sure the sheriff’s office will have everything cleared up shortly.”
“I’m the only one here. I just need to grab a few things and I’ll… where do I need to go?”
That’s what Carl was waiting to hear. Once again, Trey’s quick thinking paved the way. Boy is smart, Carl thought.
“Well, they said—“ Carl rushed the lady like a rodeo bull coming out of the gate. He pushed her backwards into her house until they were well inside. The woman screamed and Carl ordered Trey to shut and lock the door. Carl extended his hands toward her shoulders and shoved hard. The woman flew backwards, losing her footing and fell hard on the carpeted floor.
“Take it easy, man!” Trey urged. His eyes shifted from Carl to the woman and back again. He was frowning in disapproval and a silent “what the fuck?” burned in his eyes as he stared at Carl, not liking where this was going. Not at all.
Fourteen
Tori reached the end of Where the Wild Things Are, closed the book and set it down on the bed she and Elizabeth were lying in. Liz was still awake, lying close to her mother and pouting just a little. Tori had gathered all of the blankets she could find. Taping a sheet over the broken window did practically nothing to keep the freezing air outside from coming into the cabin.
The fireplace roared and crackled with a useless fire, putting out heat that was obliterated as soon as it entered the room. She remembered a chimney sweep telling her once that 90-95% of the heat from the fireplace went straight up the flue. He had said a fireplace was more for ambience than anything else, unless you’re sitting right in front of it getting that 5 or 10 percent. The fire was losing the battle with the icy air flowing through and around the sheet-covered window. Cuddling with Liz under three blankets was warmer than being outside – but just barely.
“What happened to your lip, sweetheart?” Tori asked, looking down at her daughter.
“What yip?”
“That bottom lip of yours – I think it’s broken. It’s sticking out too far and
it makes you look like a sad little girl.”
“I don’t want a story, Mommy. I want to watch Burp and Ernie,” Liz complained and promptly resumed pouting.
“I know you do, and I’ve told you we’ll watch Sesame Street and Burt and Ernie and Big Bird and everyone else just as soon as the electricity is fixed. But right now, there’s nothing I can do about it. Okay, honey?”
Liz’s slightly sad face was all she got in response. Tori took a deep breath and repositioned herself so that she was now lying down all the way under the blankets with Liz. She found Liz’s tiny hand and held it in hers.
“If I tell you a mommy story, will you fall asleep?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s find out. I’m very tired. I think you are too.”
She knew they couldn’t stay here long. It was just too damned cold. She felt a surge of tears as she suddenly became too aware of the fact that she was not taking good care of her daughter right now - holed up in a frozen cabin high in the mountains. But she didn’t know what else to do. Where could they go?
By sheer luck, they were alive when so many, many more were not. And by her ability to think somewhat clearly in the face of the most horrific thing she’d ever seen, they now had food and shelter. She felt so fortunate to have just the bare necessities that she almost considered herself selfish over her greedy desire for warmth in addition to what she did have.
“Mommy!” Elizabeth pleaded.
Tori cleared her mind of thoughts about gratitude and greed and the steady stream of cold air that would not allow her feet to warm up. She bent her knees and rubbed her feet briskly on the sheet.
“Okay, baby. Let’s see… Once upon a time, there was a nice mommy who had the most beautiful daughter in all of the land…”
Tori looked down at her daughter and her big grin that came from knowing this was going to be a good story. Liz loved mommy and daughter stories. They were the easiest ones to see when she closed her eyes because all she had to do was pretend that the story was about her mommy and herself.
Fifteen
Carl spun around and looked at Trey. “You just mind your own,” Carl replied with a challenging look. “I’ll take care of the lady how I see fit. Why don’t you make yourself useful and see if there’s any beer? Then check the rooms for guns.” Trey dropped his gaze to the floor and went in search of the kitchen, as ordered.
He felt a little disgusted with himself for not standing up to Carl, but what could he do? He owed Carl respect. If it wasn’t for Carl, he’d probably be a homeless bum. But as it was, he was in Carl’s motorcycle club, and he had even been given his motorcycle by Carl. For the first time he could recall, he had been accepted by people and not made to feel inferior; an outcast. His own family didn’t even accept him like the members of the Unforgiven did.
Unforgiven MC
Denver
He wore their colors with actual pride – and although he wouldn’t mention it to anyone in the gang, his self-esteem skyrocketed the day he first wore the denim vest he was given after his successful initiation into the club. It was the first time he didn’t feel like the loser his dad always said he was.
He couldn’t risk his membership – his new family, by countering Carl. He winced slightly as he heard the woman grunting as she struggled to resist whatever Carl was doing now.
Trey found the kitchen and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the living room. It wasn’t his concern, he tried telling himself. He opened the refrigerator and was relieved to see there were plenty of bottles of Coors Light inside. He grabbed two of them and let the door close by itself. Holding a bottle in each hand, he left the kitchen, reversing his path back to the living room where Carl was now straddling the woman’s hips and holding one big hand over her mouth. The sound of her voice was muffled, but the high tones of her squealing were still audible.
“I can do this all day, lady. And I will, if you don’t get smart and calm the fuck down.” Carl was enjoying the hell out of himself on Day One of Anything Goes.
“Gotchu a beer,” Trey said from behind him.
Carl turned and took the beer with his free left hand. Trey turned and walked away, heading toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Carl’s right hand was clamped over the woman’s mouth, but now he needed it to twist off the cap because Trey was too stupid to have done it for him.
“I’m gonna give you another chance. When I take my hand away, you’ll stay quiet if you’re smart. If you’re not, you’ll see what happens.”
Carl lifted his hand and slowly brought it to the top of the beer bottle. The woman stared up at him and eagerly took deep breaths through her mouth, thankful for the increased air she was able to draw in.
As Carl twisted the cap, the woman bucked as hard she could and let out another war cry, still filled with a fighting spirit and not even thinking of giving up despite being only five feet and one inch tall against Carl’s vastly greater size and weight.
She was stronger than Carl thought possible. As she bucked, lifting him up a few inches, his beer spilled onto both of them. He pushed down on her face with one hand, pinning her head and muffling her screams, and set the beer bottle far off to his left.
“It’s time for me to learn you a lesson.” He lifted his right hand and the sound of her screaming filled the room for just a second until his left hand came flying in at her face, stopping her voice instantly. Her cheek turned red and both of her lips began to bleed.
She was momentarily dazed. She could feel heat as her blood traveled to her cheek to begin immediate repair of broken capillaries. Her mouth felt swollen and numb on the right side. Her brain was rattled and her mind was still for the moment. She continued taking ragged breaths, staring at Carl with a combination of fear and hatred.
Carl took a long swig of the cold beer. It was warm inside the house and his body temperature was high from his increased heartbeat. Taking total possession of this woman was exciting, and he hadn’t even gotten started yet. Carl raised his hand as if to strike the woman’s face again.
“Do you need another one? I’ll be happy to give it to you…”
Her chest rapidly rose and fell with her quick breathing. For the first time, she did more than scream at Carl. Her throat was dry from adrenaline and exertion. When she spoke, she didn’t sound like herself.
“My husband will kill you,” she told him in barely more than a whisper. “And when he does, you’ll go straight to--“
Carl hit her in the face before she could complete the sentence. This time he used his fist. She looked like she was knocked out cold, but just to make sure, he hit her once more. He was tired of playing games with her. She needed to recognize who was in charge of this here situation.
He saw a framed photo of a man in a military uniform sitting on the end table beside the couch. The picture looked like the ones Carl always saw on the freeway, talking about honor and integrity. Shit like that.
“Fuck you, soldier boy. I’m gonna learn your wife what a real man is.”
He lifted his beer to his mouth and held it there, tipping the bottle further and further until it was empty. He burped from the large dose of carbon-dioxide and threw the bottle at the framed photograph, shattering both of them. He was just about to pick up the woman and find a place to take her when Trey came back in to the room.
“No beer?” He was starting to think that Trey was less and less useful to have around.
“I’ll get you one, but I wanted to show you this. Figured you’d want to know.” Trey handed Carl a 3rd generation Glock 17.
Carl’s eyes lit up and he smiled.
“It’s a pussy cop gun, but I’ll take it. Is that all?”
“It’s the only thing out in the open. Found it in her closet on the shelf. There’s a gun safe in the other room, but I can’t open it.”
“Find a way,” Carl ordered.
“It’s one o’ them fancy ones with the—“
“I don’t give a fuck!” Carl gro
wled. “Find a way in that goddamned safe and get me a beer.”
Trey turned to get another beer from the kitchen. He shook his head as he walked.
What the fuck has gotten into Carl? I thought we were friends.
Carl had been fine that morning. Even after Trey hit him, he was still his regular self. Trey thought if he hit Carl now like he had earlier, Carl would probably kill him. He knew Carl was a badass dude, but now it was like he didn’t even know him anymore. When Trey returned to the living room with two beers this time, both for Carl, the room was empty.
He went down the hall and checked the master bedroom. He was there. The lady was lying on her bed, still unconscious.
“More beer for you, Carl.”
Carl turned around and smiled when saw the bottles.
“You ain’t as dumb as you look.”
He took both bottles and walked over to the night-stand beside the bed and set one down. He opened the other and took a drink.
“Now get that safe open.”
“I’ll see what I can come up with,” Trey muttered as he walked into the hall, certain that there was no way in hell he could open it.
“And shut the door!” Carl yelled.
Trey came back a few steps and shut the door.
Carl walked over and locked it. He felt a rush of something good start at the base of his skull and coursing forward and upward to his eyes and forehead. The feeling slowly descended through the rest of his body. It felt like he had just injected something like a speedball – a perfect mix of heroin and cocaine. His forehead began to buzz.
He turned back to look at the woman on the bed. He set his beer on her bureau and undressed. As he took his clothes off, his mind filled with images of what he planned to do. He was getting mentally aroused as he envisioned himself raping her, but physically, there was no evidence of his arousal.
In The End: a pre-apocalypse novel Page 6
