by Jack Hunt
“Looks like he killed his wife and shot himself. Poor bastards,” Damon said.
Over the past six months, life hadn’t just become hard physically but emotionally. Everywhere they turned there was something trying to dim the flicker of hope inside them. If people weren’t being murdered, they were committing suicide because it was easier than trying to make it through another day. Often he would find himself chuckling as he thought about all the people that used to complain about how hard life was. Before the lights went out, life was a walk in the park. Sure, it was full of stress and could throw a curve ball once in a while but it was nothing compared to now.
“Put that light out,” Elliot said. He turned his attention to Gary who had one hand on his back and the other on his head. He was groaning.
“Go on, say it,” Gary said through gritted teeth. “Go on. I told you so. That’s what you’re going to say, isn’t it, Elliot?”
“Shut up, Gary. God, you go on like an old woman.”
Elliot stood by the window glancing out, hoping that trouble didn’t come their way.
“We’ll wait until the early hours of the morning and go get her,” Damon said.
“We’re not going back, Damon,” Elliot responded. “At the first chance we get, we are leaving this town.”
“What happened to, we need to get a vehicle? A horse?”
“That was before I realized how many people Dallas has in his group. There are too many of them out there. We are lucky to still be alive.”
“I’m not leaving Ella with him. You know what he will do.”
“She’s not our problem.”
“That problem is the reason why we are still alive. She navigated us through these streets, without her we’ll be lucky to make it five blocks without getting shot. And anyway, if we leave now, how are we going to get to this compound in Texas?”
“The same way we got from New York to Lake Placid. Through pure determination.”
“Bullshit.”
Elliot looked at him as if he was about to comment but then returned to gazing out into the night. Damon glanced at his watch, it was close to midnight. A wave of tiredness hit him. They’d been up before the crack of dawn and spent the better part of the day on the run. He was hungry, thirsty, desperate for sleep, and worried for Ella. He didn’t expect to get any support from either of them. They hadn’t said a word about Sean or Zach since losing them back there. The fact was, all that mattered was staying alive. Once someone was dead, they were dead. Gone. It was a waste of energy to grieve for them.
“Well, I’m going to get her, with or without you.”
“Then it will be without us, I’m afraid,” Elliot replied. Gary didn’t need to say anything, Damon already knew his answer. He wandered off into the kitchen to see what he could find in the cupboards to eat.
Under a full moon that night, Ryan’s hands were handcuffed to a thick chain, and he was hoisted up against a large pole in the middle of the yard. His feet dangled, his toes barely touching the ground. Within minutes of hanging there he could already feel the strain on his ligaments. Blood trickled from his mouth, his eyes were swollen from where four of the militia had beaten him senseless. Retribution for killing their buddies, they said. Shelby didn’t stop them. He wasn’t even around when they did it. He passed out several times and when he did, they would urinate on him and continue the assault. They cracked his ribs with batons and took turns striking him in the jaw and beating his knees with plastic piping. They’d broken two teeth, and he was sure they’d ruptured blood vessels in his eyes. Out of the swollen slits of his eyes he could barely see. They’d even removed his shoes and used a metal pole to crush three of his toes. At some point he must have blacked out. All he felt now was pain, excruciating pain shooting from his feet to his head. Two more hard jabs to the stomach and he heard Shelby’s voice.
“That’s enough!”
In the darkness all he saw was his silhouette approaching.
He leaned forward, his lips inches away from Ryan’s ear. “You know you brought this on yourself. You only have yourself to blame. However, there is a silver lining to every dark cloud. Would you like to know what it is?”
He didn’t respond. Even if he could, he wouldn’t have.
“The others will no longer be punished. They will get to eat. They will still work on the wall but they will eat. They have your brother to thank for that.”
Ryan raised his head; his brow pinched causing him even more pain.
“Oh you didn’t know? That’s right.” He let out a sigh. “He made me promise that I wouldn’t tell you. You know how it is with brothers. Loyalty and whatnot.” He smiled. “Except his loyalty is with me now. He will be doing the job you should have done. Your brother is my eyes and ears now. And what a fine job he has done.”
“You bastard,” Ryan said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, come on, Ryan. Don’t you have a sense of humor?” He took out a cigarette and lit it. Shelby blew smoke into his face. “From here on out it’s all smooth sailing. You see, I’m not going to kill you, Ryan. I thought about it. Hell, my men would love to keep beating you until you give up the ghost but what would that accomplish? It would only turn you into a martyr. No, I’m going to keep you alive. Barely. But still, I’ll keep you alive and let everyone inside this compound see what happens when they cross over the line.” He looked at him without saying anything, and then added, “In fact I should be thanking you because you’ve just made my job easier.”
Ryan muttered something.
“What’s that?” Shelby asked leaning in closer.
“I’m going to kill you,” Ryan said in a barely audible voice.
“Um. No. I didn’t quite catch that. You are going to need to speak louder.”
He got closer, close enough for Ryan to do the only thing he could — bite.
Ryan latched on to his ear and tore away.
Shelby let out a bloodcurdling scream and staggered back clutching what remained of his ear. What came next was more pain but it was worth it. In fact he laughed as they beat his body with batons and struck his face causing him to bleed even more. The last thing he recalled before blacking out was Shelby screaming and staggering away towards the bunkers.
Chapter 18
The sound of a door slamming stirred Elliot awake. He immediately put his hand on his rifle and sat up. He’d had trouble staying alert throughout the night. Gary wasn’t able to help due to the pain in his back, which had only got worse as the night wore on. He scrambled to his feet and glanced at his watch. It was still early. Just after five. Outside he saw Damon crouched by a tree checking his rifle. Gary was still asleep. Elliot went out.
“C’mon, Damon, where are you heading?”
“Already told you. I’m going to get her.”
He shook his head. “That’s not a smart idea.”
“Neither was going for those damn horses but I went with you.”
Elliot pawed at his tired eyes and scanned the area for threats. “You know I would go but Gary’s condition has got worse overnight. I need to get him home.”
“That’s fine. I need to get her.”
“Why? You don’t owe her anything. All right, sure, she helped us navigate the streets but she’s not flesh and blood, and you damn sure aren’t dating the chick.”
“She has no one else, Elliot. Neither do I.”
“You have us.”
Damon stared intently before looking away. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“That doesn’t make it the smart thing.”
“Right. Smart. It doesn’t matter. It’s what I need to do.”
Elliot wasn’t going to continue arguing with him, when Damon made up his mind to do something he followed through. His return to Keene had been proof of that.
“You got enough ammo?”
He nodded. “Thanks to those four guys.”
Elliot looked off into the distance as the sun’s bright morning rays filtered through the trees.
It was already beginning to warm up. He expected another hot day.
“Listen, when we get back, we are probably going to leave for Texas within twenty-four hours. With all that’s happened over the last month, and with what Ella knows about our place in Lake Placid, it’s just not safe for us to remain there any longer. If you’re not there tomorrow at six in the morning…”
“You’ll leave without me. Yeah, I get it. If I’m not there don’t wait. Go. If I make it out, we’ll find you.”
Elliot clasped his hand and pulled him in for a hug. He patted him on the back. “If this is the last time I see you…” he trailed off.
Damon gave a strained smile back. “Likewise.”
With that said, Damon took off running at a crouch. Within minutes he disappeared into the shadows of the early morning. Elliot remained there for a minute or two longer before heading back inside. He was torn. On one hand he wanted to help but Gary needed him more. When he returned to the room, Gary was starting to stir.
“Uh,” he groaned.
“How you feeling?”
“Like a truck rolled over me.” He went to get up off the couch and cried out in pain.
“You need pain medication. I’m taking you home. We’re leaving in the next ten minutes.”
Gary looked around the room. “Where’s Damon?”
“Gone.”
“He just upped and left?”
“No, I spoke to him before he took off.”
Gary shook his head and scoffed. “He’s going to get himself killed over a girl he doesn’t even know. Idiot.”
“Love is blind,” Elliot replied, helping him to a seated position.
“That it is.”
He helped Gary to his feet. “Let me take a look.”
He lifted up Gary’s top and his back was black and blue. He’d hit the ground with some force. There was no telling how many ribs he’d broken but his skin was showing some serious bruising. It had turned a gnarly shade of purple.
“We got anything to drink?”
“Yeah, Damon found some old juice boxes in the basement. Not the best but they’ll suffice.” He went into the kitchen and grabbed up a couple and returned.
“When we get back to Lake Placid, we need to leave. You know that, don’t you?” Gary said.
“Yeah. I already told him we won’t be waiting. I said we would leave at six.”
“We might have to leave sooner than that. There’s no telling if Ella will tell them where we live.”
Elliot nodded. He’d hoped to stay at least twenty-four hours to give Damon a chance to return but it wasn’t exactly practical. Gary stuck a straw into the juice box and drained it dry. There was no food in the house and they hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. His stomach grumbled and made odd noises. They’d grown accustomed to going long periods without food. At first it was difficult but the body soon adjusted. However that didn’t make it any easier.
Once Gary was mentally ready for the long journey — a trip that would take over three hours by foot — they exited the home.
Dallas was feeling pretty damn good about the outcome. Two of those assholes were dead, they didn’t manage to get the horses and he now had that bitch back right where he wanted her. This time she would remain in his sights. He’d had two of his men watch over her throughout the night while he slept nearby, and he’d posted six around the Rusty Nail and had the rest work the blockades and scour the surrounding streets within a three-mile radius. Of course he had them operate in rotating shifts to ensure they were well rested. The last thing he wanted was to die because they were exhausted.
He’d been awake staring at her from across the room for the past ten minutes. Dallas had slept on a soft leather couch. He pulled back a colorful blanket and swung his legs out and stretched.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Dallas said to her as he ambled over to the bar to make himself an early morning Bloody Mary. He pulled out MREs from a box and tossed several over to the guys guarding her. “Harris, go wake the others and have them take over your shifts. Get some food in you and some rest.”
“Will do, boss.”
He took off and Dallas motioned for the other guy to step outside so he could have some one-on-one time. He’d been eager to talk. He wanted her to understand why he was going to make her suffer. There was no fun in inflicting pain if the victim didn’t know why. As the door closed behind his guy, he hopped up on the bar and began tucking into a chicken with egg noodles MRE. He scooped it into his mouth while eying her.
“You’re probably hungry, right?” She didn’t respond. “The quiet treatment. I get it.” He sniffed. “I would offer you some but it would be a waste. You see, I want you to suffer but I want you to understand why you’re going to suffer. Do you know?”
She glared at him. Dallas could see the hatred in her eyes.
“Well, if you’re not going to talk I’ll fill you in. Two months ago,” he smacked his lips as he ate and talked at the same time, “you killed my brother.” He paused. “You probably didn’t know, hell, you probably don’t even remember, right? I mean, why would you? He was just another threat.” He wagged his plastic fork at her. “Though, I’ve got to say. I have to take my hat off to you. How you managed to elude us for two months is pretty damn impressive. There were others like you out there. Folks who thought they would be heroes. People who wouldn’t listen to reason and join us so we had to kill them but you... um, you were like the fucking Energizer Bunny — you just kept on going, didn’t you?” He stopped eating and stuck his tongue between his teeth to pick away some chicken that had got stuck. He sniffed and reached for his drink and took a sip. “So let me remind you. West side. Blond-haired kid. Blue eyes. He was wearing a black leather jacket with the emblem of a dragon. Ring any bells?”
Still no response.
“Anyway, you didn’t just shoot him, did you? No, there was something about that killing that was personal. You shot him in the kneecaps, and then used a knife. I counted roughly forty-one stab wounds. Overkill. So tell me, what drives a woman like you to inflict that kind of pain on someone you don’t know?”
She spat in his direction.
“Geesh, you really have no off switch to that hate, do you? Let me guess, we killed your brother? Sister?” He tried to gauge her reaction as he spoke. “I know, your mother? Father, maybe?” She tensed up and he knew that was it. “Ah, revenge for us killing your parents.” He chuckled. “You see I kind of find that funny really. You know why?”
She still didn’t respond.
“You strike me as the kind of woman that left home early. Maybe seventeen? Am I right? You wanted to venture out and put your mark on the world and daddy dearest didn’t like it. Am I getting close?”
She shuffled around, giving him a sense that she was uncomfortable.
“So why would you care if they were dead or alive?”
“I could ask you the same thing about your brother,” she shot back.
He shook his fork at her. “A smart-ass. I like that.” He took another drink. “I understand the whole eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth bullshit. It feels good, right? Doesn’t it? Did you feel good after killing my brother?”
“Good? I felt amazing.”
Dallas gripped his fork tight. He had a good mind to go over there and jab it in her eye and pluck it out of its socket and make her eat it. Instead, he dropped down from the bar and walked over and crouched near her. “Amazing? Um. Good choice of words. I was actually wondering what it was going to feel like when I’m done with you.” He paused. “Amazing. That might encompass the feeling. I’m not sure. I guess I should get started.”
With that said he dropped the fork into the bag and reached around for his serrated blade. He removed it slowly. He wanted her to see it. He wanted her to know what was coming next. There was no fun in going fast. The body couldn’t fully appreciate the depth of what it was about to feel if it was rushed. No, he wanted to see the fear in her eyes. Dallas grabbed a hold of her foot, and cu
t away the laces until the boot came off in his hand. He tossed it to one side as he then removed her sock. “That’s a good-looking foot. Pity.” He ran the tip of the blade over her skin and stared into her eyes as he pressed harder, slicing at the skin then pulling the knife away.
“Fuck you!” she said, in a final act of defiance.
“Back atcha!” he said before driving the knife down into her foot slowly. He held her ankle tight so she couldn’t pull away. Her cries were ear-piercing, and they only got worse when he extracted it and the serrated edge tore at her skin. Once he pulled it out, he waved the knife in front of her face. “Did your mother ever let you lick the icing off the mixing stick? Care for a taste?” He laughed and slid the knife back into his sheath, rose and walked back to the bar to get his drink.
“Just kill me and get it over with,” she said.
“Oh I’m not going to rush this, darlin’. You don’t rush these kinds of things. No, it’s like making a good cup of coffee. You got to give it time to brew. No, this is going to be an interesting day.” He chuckled. “Actually it’s amazing how many ideas come to you in the middle of the night. But I don’t want to hog all the ideas. So if you have any, I’m all ears. Me? I would love to share with you what I’ve got in store but where would the fun be in that? It’s the anticipation of Christmas that gets us excited, right?”
He took his place at the bar and finished eating breakfast while she wailed in pain behind him. Every now and again he would glance at her in the bar’s mirror and smile. Oh, this was going to be good.
Samuel Hayes stood outside with the others that morning around 6 a.m. as they did roll call. Shelby said it was to ensure that no one else had died in another attack, but that wasn’t it. He just wanted to make sure no one had escaped.
