by Dirk Patton
So I jumped on its back. Well, climbed on, maybe. I don’t right remember now exactly. And I don’t recall just how I got Preacher’s beads around its neck neither. All I knew was that my hands were crossed, the cord with its beads was around its neck and all I had to do was pull hard.
So, I pulled. And I kept on pullin’. And the thing realized I was there when Eggs’ fire extinguisher ran outta white stuff, and it started to get ornery. It bucked like a bronco, but I kept on pulling. And my head hit the ceiling more n’ once, but I kept on pulling. And laws, did my noggin hurt like the dickins and make everything go all blurry. But I kept on pulling.
Then I saw blood.
It started comin’ out where the beads were wrapped around the thing’s neck, oozing from under the monster’s stone skin and running down the string and the beads. My hands started to feel slippery and hot, like I’d dunked ‘em into a vat of cookin’ oil.
But I kept on pulling, and slowly the beads started sinking into the thing’s neck. It felt like rock to sit on or hit, but where the beads were, it was soft as cheese ‘gainst a wire, cutting through slow but never stopping, so long as I was pulling.
It still kept rearing up. But soon the monster jumped less. And it screamed quieter each time too.
Then all a sudden like, I wasn’t riding it no more. It just came apart and I was sitting in a pile of black sand. My hands were all bloody, and it was drying up and flaking off. Someone was still screaming. Cap come up and shook and smacked me a few ‘til I figured it were me screaming. Then he got in my face up close and told me to stop, so I did.
He looked me over, then got back into the pilot seat where Eggs’d been flyin’ the Belle. Don’t even remember Eggs leaving the fight with the monster, but he took back his seat, and I shuffled back to my position near the door. Tex stayed in the ball and didn’t move nor speak. I heard he was like that for a long time after we got back, but that’s another story for another day.
Zeke took another blanket and covered Preacher’s front where his guts were trying to hang out. I pretended not to notice, but Zeke looked at Preacher’s body a long time. Then he reached for one of Preacher’s chest pockets, and found that little blue book he always read from when one of us bought it. He opened up to a page and started reading. I couldn’t quite hear him over the noise of the wind whining through the holes in the Belle, but I’d heard the quiet sounds over the radio enough to know he was saying the same words Preacher’d said so many a time: “Eternal rest unto him, O Lord, and may your perpetual light upon him, may he rest in peace . . .”
We got the Belle back, ‘most in one piece. We’d lost Sharkey, Wrenchie, Booger and Preacher, and we was sad, sure. But not as much as you’d think. Crews came back worse, or didn’t come back at all, so I can be glad of that. Whitey was the last one I got real sad about. After that, you learn.
The sun had just started comin’ up when we touched down, cold wind blowing in our faces. The landing strip looked the same, but it was different. Sometimes when we’d get back, the ground crew’d cheer us. Now, no one cheered for us ‘cause no one was there. We landed and we stopped, and guys we didn’t know ran out and hooked the plane safe and put the stoppers under the wheels.
When we got off the Belle, no one we knew was there. Even the new guys had run back to the buildings, didn’t say nothin’ to us. The base was empty. Only the two men we’d seen over at the briefing room were there, watching us with their glasses, their arms crossed about a hundred feet away on the tarmac.
A couple of soldiers drove up in a truck and told us to get in the back. They helped Tex out, and I was right impressed they didn’t have to hold their noses with him, covered in shit as he was. where he messed himself
We drove away, and I was still tired, more tired’n I ever was. I couldn’t even think of a time that was close. Then I heard something from Zeke next to me. Cap was still wide up and Eggs was lying on the floor of the truck. Tex was staring with eyes that looked hollow and dark, his mouth half open and spit going down one side.
“It’s real,” Zeke said, his eyes wide and bloodshot.
“What’s real?”
“All of it. All of it. All I ever said to Preacher, it’s only because it was all I saw. And now that I’ve seen something else, I know there’s something else.”
Well, I coulda asked for more. Coulda asked him what he meant. But I knew something was going on inside Zeke. And I couldn’t help it go faster or get bigger, but I knew I’d jinx it pretty bad if’n I talked any more.
So while the sun came up behind us, I just kept my mouth shut and let Zeke keep getting religion.
Danny
Dirk Patton
Danny Britton awoke in a panic, sweat immediately popping out on his forehead as he lurched to a sitting position and looked around the hotel room. A dim slice of light from the bathroom revealed hastily scattered clothes, a half empty bottle of tequila with two glasses on a table and several discarded condoms on the floor. Taking a deep, calming breath, he raised his hands and rubbed his face in relief. Whatever he’d heard hadn’t been his wife bursting through the door to catch him red handed with another woman.
A brief, gurgling snore from the other side of the bed drew his attention and he looked down at a pile of blonde hair spilling across a pillow. Janice. Or at least that’s the name she’d used on the Internet hookup site where he’d first contacted her. He hadn’t cared if her name was Adolf. She was stunning and the most enthusiastic and unrestrained lover he’d ever had. It had been a good night.
But it was morning now, or soon would be he noted after checking the bedside clock. Time to shower her smell off, dress and head home. If he hurried, he could make it before his wife, Theresa, got out of bed and woke the kids for school. She wouldn’t be happy that he hadn’t made it home last night, but was accustomed to him spending at least one late night a week in the office.
Moving carefully so he didn’t disturb Janice, Danny stepped out of the bed and padded silently to the bathroom, closing the door softly before cranking the shower on to hot. Waiting for the water to begin steaming, he cursed when the light went out, plunging the room into impenetrable darkness. Fumbling a hand across the wall, he found the switch and flipped it several times to no avail. Water still running, he opened the door and peered out into the room. Tried to spot the glowing digits on the clock next to the bed, but they weren’t there.
“Fuck,” Danny mumbled under his breath when he confirmed the power was out.
For a long moment, he stood naked in the open bathroom door, the shower hissing behind him, and hoping the electricity would come back on so he could clean up. Last night’s sex had been vigorous and had lasted a long time. He could smell the scent of the woman as well as the musk of their mingled sweat coming off his bare chest. There was no way Theresa wouldn’t notice, nor would she be understanding of any excuse. He needed to bathe.
Resigned to showering in the dark, he was turning away from the room when Janice wheezed a deep gurgle that ended in a guttural sound that was eerily like the snarl of a wild animal. The blood in Danny’s veins ran cold as he looked at the bed in fear. He wasn’t concerned for the woman, he was terrified at the thought of something happening to her in a hotel room rented in his name.
It’s just from last night, he told himself.
The sex hadn’t only been vigorous, it had been rough. The woman liked to be slapped and pinched. And choked. Danny had been only too happy to accommodate her, losing himself in the moment of squeezing her neck until the blood flow to her brain was restricted as she writhed beneath him.
That’s got to be it! Bitch has a sore throat.
Before he could turn away, Janice growled again. This time there was no dismissing the possibility that something was wrong. Danny stood rooted to the spot, staring at the covers as the woman began moving, occasionally emitting more of the sounds. Had he damaged her throat? Was she choking? Unable to breathe? Concern over being caught and the resulting consequences
spurred him to action and he rushed forward.
“Hey, Jani…”
Danny froze in place, hand extended to pull back the sheet when she sat bolt upright and looked around at the sound of his voice. Then she screamed. But it wasn’t the sound of a frightened or injured woman. It was a voice of unbridled rage as she leapt off the bed, reaching for him.
Stumbling away in surprise and fear, Danny’s feet tangled in her dress and he fell backward onto a small, round table placed between two chairs. Never designed to hold the weight of a full-grown man, it collapsed, dumping him and its contents onto the floor.
Stunned and flailing about, the breath in his lungs whooshed out of his body when Janice slammed down on top of him. Instantly, she was ripping at his chest and neck with her nails, another scream loud in his ears as she tried to bite into his face. With one hand, he fought to fend off her attack as he felt his flesh tear open under the assault.
Fear-induced adrenaline surged through him and he hit her as she screamed inches from his face, then used all his strength to push her away. She tumbled across the floor, limbs flailing, then came to a stop against the side of the bed. Sitting up, Danny watched in horror as she immediately sprang into a crouch and let out with the loudest scream yet.
Scrambling away to open some room between them, his hand landed on the smooth glass surface of the liquor bottle as Janice leapt with a snarl that made his balls shrivel and the hair on his arms stand on end. Reacting to the attack, he grasped the bottle by the neck and swung it up to protect himself.
Glass exploded when it impacted the side of Janice’s head, but the blow didn’t stop the momentum of her leap. Slamming into Danny’s chest, their arms intertwined as he struggled desperately against her. Knocked back half a dozen feet, it took several long seconds for him to realize he was the only one participating in the battle. She was completely limp. For a heartbeat, Danny held her upper arms in a tight grip, then panic set in.
Shoving her aside, he scrambled away and climbed to his feet. His breath was coming in short pants of fear as he stood over Janice’s limp form.
“Oh, God… no,” he breathed, shaking uncontrollably and unable to force himself to bend down and check her injuries.
Rank sweat ran down his nude body, mixing with the blood from his injuries and stinging the open wounds. He ignored the discomfort, standing there for what felt like hours as his mind whirled, playing out the consequences of the situation.
He was in a hotel room with a woman who wasn’t his wife. His DNA was both in and on her body as well as the bed. His skin and blood were under her nails. What if he’d killed her? Who would believe he’d only been defending himself? That she’d gone crazy after a night of drunken sex and tried to bite his face? He wasn’t even sure he believed it himself. Slowly, he knelt next to her, ready to leap away at the slightest hint of movement.
Janice was face down and there was a small amount of light leaking around the heavy curtains that covered the window. Enough for him to see the dark blood that stained her thick, blonde hair. Tentatively, he reached out and touched her shoulder, jerking his hand away as if he’d received an electric shock. When she didn’t respond, he carefully placed two fingers on the side of her neck. Held them there for a moment, then probed around toward the front. Seeking her carotid artery.
“Fuck me,” he said when he couldn’t find it.
He thought about turning her over. Checking to see if she was breathing. But that idea was dismissed as soon as he had it. He was already in enough trouble without adding in disturbing the scene. Any half decent prosecutor would use that to justify seeking a more serious charge.
Standing, Danny looked around the room with an investigator’s eye. He’d once been one of the prosecutors he was now worried about, but that had been a long time ago. Now, he was a junior partner in a White-shoe law firm who never handled anything other than contracts. He hadn’t even set foot in a courtroom in more than a decade. But his firm employed an entire floor of top-tier defense attorneys that were available to their corporate clients. Lawyers that could and did get CEOs and board members off the hook for everything from DUI to sexual assault, and even a charge of involuntary manslaughter.
Ignoring the woman, Danny leapt across the room to where his suit had been tossed carelessly. Ripping pockets, he fumbled out his phone and opened the contact list. He knew several of the attorneys that specialized in criminal defense. Played golf with them on Saturdays when he couldn’t stand to be around Janice and the kids. They’d help with the call to the police and make sure the right narrative was spun from the outset of the investigation.
Finding the name he was searching for, he pressed the dial button but the call failed immediately. Frustration surging, he tried twice more before noticing the no service indicator at the top of the screen. Resisting the urge to fling the handset against the wall, he reached for the hotel phone, freezing in place when he heard what sounded like muted gun fire. Looking at the window, he listened closely, but there weren’t any more shots. If that’s what it had been.
After several seconds of staring at the curtains, waiting, he frowned. Something was odd about the quality of the light leaking into the room around their edges. Walking to the window, he parted the drapes with his finger and peered out, expecting to see a stormy sky was the culprit. His mouth fell open in shock when he saw the horizon consumed in towering flames that were sending dense clouds of black smoke billowing high into the air, filtering the morning sun and turning its light a smoky, bloody red. Atlanta was burning.
Danny stood immobile, curtains thrown wide as he stared at the inferno consuming Atlanta. After several long minutes, he stiffened and looked over his shoulder at the unmoving woman. The sun was fully up and bathing the room in light and he could see the damage done to her head by the tequila bottle, including a wicked shard of glass protruding from her eye. But fear of the police and prosecution had evaporated. He didn’t know what had happened, but with Atlanta on fire there wouldn’t be time for anyone to worry about some blonde slut that had died in a hotel room. A smile of relief crossed his face and he turned back to watch the smoke and flames.
Movement in the parking lot three floors below caught his attention. Several bodies were on the ground and a man with a gun and a woman were walking quickly toward a row of parked vehicles. He leaned closer to the glass when he realized the woman was nude, then stepped back quickly when the man suddenly stopped, slapped his pant pockets and looked up at the hotel. Danny didn’t know why, but something told him he didn’t want to be seen.
After a few seconds, the man turned away, slowly scanning across the parking lot and surrounding roads. No traffic was moving and from Danny’s elevation he could see several groups of pedestrians, all apparently converging on the man and woman. They saw them too, breaking into a run away from the hotel.
Fascinated, Danny watched as they approached a small cluster of vehicles that had been abandoned at a nearby intersection. A group of people, probably the drivers, milled around amongst them and turned to meet the new arrivals. The breath caught in his throat when a woman suddenly leapt onto the hood of a car and launched herself at the man like a missile. He saw the gun come up and buck once in the man’s hand, the attacking woman falling to the ground and tumbling to a stop at his feet. A second later, the sound of the shot reached him faintly through the heavy glass.
“What the hell?” Danny whispered, a thrill of fear passing through him.
Turning, he looked down at Janice. She’d behaved the same as the woman he’d just seen shot in the head. Attacked for no reason.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” Danny cried loudly, turning back to the window at the sound of more gunfire.
The man stood over several bodies, searching them for something as the nude woman looked around nervously at multiple groups of pedestrians converging on their location. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, the man made a gesture and the pair raced to a big Ford truck and leapt into the cab a
n instant before grasping hands began slapping on the sheet metal. Within moments, the truck was completely surrounded by dozens of people and two women leapt onto the hood to pound on the windshield.
Checking his phone, Danny cursed to find there was still no service available. Rushing across the room, he yelped when he stepped on a shard of the shattered bottle. Ignoring the pain and blood that began to soak into the carpet, he snatched up the TV remote with a trembling hand and pressed the power button. In his state of mind, he’d forgotten the power was out. With a curse of frustration, he flung the remote across the room where it bounced off the dark TV screen.
Sidestepping the broken glass, he returned to the window. Something seriously bad was going on and he needed to get out of here. Maybe he could draw the attention of the man with the gun and catch a ride with him. Danny didn’t like guns. Didn’t believe anyone needed one or should be allowed to have one, but right now seemed like a good time to be standing behind a well-armed man.
He sighed in dismay when he saw the Ford hadn’t moved. In the brief time he’d been away from the window, the size of the mob surrounding it had doubled. It didn’t look like those people were going to be able to help him. Terrified, but more freaked out by the thought of remaining in the room with the dead woman, Danny grabbed his clothes off the floor.
He was ready to dress quickly and go but hesitated when he saw the gash on his foot was still bleeding freely. The thought of ruining the eight-hundred-dollar pair of shoes he was about to put on sent him to the bathroom where he washed the injury while sitting on the edge of the tub. The amount of blood was surprising, the hot water causing the wound to flow freely.
