“S-sophia? You don’t feel…anything?”
Nothing pierced her skin, but something pushed it out at an odd angle. Paco walked behind her, grabbed her head with both hands, and jerked it to the side. There was a loud pop, but he had to do it a few more times before it was straight.
“What are you doing that for?”
“It’s…your neck…never mind. Hold on a second.” He ran to his parents’ room, and just the smell of Mama’s perfume nearly made him burst into tears again, but he held it in, stayed strong for his sister. After rifling through Mama’s dresser drawers, he found what he was looking for, jogged back down the stairs, being careful not to repeat Sophia’s spill.
I won’t be able to sit up afterward like she did.
“What’s that for?” she said, her head lolling from side to side. She still didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong.
“It’s…uh…for good luck. This was Mama’s.” He tied the thick ribbon around Sophia’s neck, which was already turning purple.
“Thanks, Paco. I love it.” She ran her fingers over the ribbon. “You see, Myron? This was Mama’s.”
After picking up the scattered bullets, he put them in the glove box of the truck, then loaded Sophia into the passenger seat, buckled her up. The ribbon helped keep her head straight, but it still rolled around looser than he’d liked.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, Papa popped into his mind again. Papa had sat right where Sophia was sitting, calmly giving instructions as Paco drove for the first time. Even when Paco almost lost control and hit a tree, Papa never lost his cool.
“S’okay, Paco. Take it slow.” He would always reach over and pat Paco on the chest, sometimes hard enough to sting.
Paco pushed the key in, turned it once, twice, then three times, just like Papa told him to. The truck wheezed and choked, then woke up with a metallic growl. The radio clicked on, playing Papa’s Johnny Cash album. Paco had to listen to that album every day. Papa said whoever had owned the truck before him had left it in there, and Papa never wanted to listen to anything else, would just let it loop over and over, singing every word to every song. Paco knew them all by heart too.
Paco sang along as “Ring of Fire” slid from the speakers, and he smiled over at Sophia and winked…just like Papa used to do. He clutched the steering wheel, his fingers wrapped around the spots that had been worn down from Papa’s hard hands, and in that moment, he could feel Papa with him. Could feel his love, his concern. Could feel his warmth in the seat.
“You ready?”
“Yes. Do you really think a doctor can help me, Paco?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes going out of focus as he peered past Sophia through her window and at their home. “But we got nowhere else to go.”
Leaving a trail of dusty clouds, they were off.
- Chapter 6 -
Calico walked into Fleet’s office after being summoned by one of his men.
“Calico, my friend. Doing well?” the old man said.
“What do you need from me?” Calico saw no reason to mess around. Just cut to the chase.
Fleet grinned, chewed on his cigar. “Well, it appears I may have some competition in town. You believe that shit? The balls on this guy, whoever he is.”
“Just tell me where he is, and I’ll take care of it.” Carving up a meat dealer was nothing Calico would lose sleep over. His hands thirsted for the fucker’s blood, but craved Fleet’s the most.
“You see, therein lies the problem. I got this bitch down in Detox. The boys found her all fucked up, fingering her pussy like she was drillin’ for oil. They found these on her.” He tossed a handful of small cellophane baggies on the desk. They crinkled with writhing movement, and when Calico snatched one up, sniffed it, he could tell it wasn’t Fleet’s. “Seems she was supposed to be out there sellin’ that, but got her hand stuck in her twat and got sidetracked. What I need you to do is find out who supplied that shit to her. You do whatever you need to do to get that information, you got me? But keep her alive. Got big plans for this one.”
Calico only nodded, pocketed the baggie of meat, headed out the door and toward Detox. Fleet said something as the office door swung shut behind Calico, but he ignored it.
He didn’t know which room the girl was in, but when he turned down the hallway, he guessed it was the one with the Grunt standing in front of it. Calico marched down the hall, could see the man getting more nervous as he grew nearer, shifting his feet and clearing his throat.
“She in there?” Calico said.
“Yeah…what, uh…what’re you gonna do to her?” He chuckled, swiped his hand up and down over the back of his head. “A fine piece of ass, that girl. You should—”
“Move the fuck out of the way.”
Another clearing of the throat, a shuffling of the feet, and the Grunt followed Calico’s instructions. Calico opened the door and entered, slammed the door behind him.
The girl, barely dressed, jumped at the sudden burst of sound, then her quivering eyes rode Calico’s body from his shoes up to his face.
Jesus Christ.
The girl couldn’t have been a day over eighteen, and from the looks of her, she hadn’t been an addict for long. She lacked that deep sunken-in look of all the others, still had some color to her flesh. But she still shook from need, and instead of fear, she looked up at Calico with hope.
“You got a taste for me?” She pulled her shirt off, her teeth grinding, eyes alive with pain. “Come on, m-man. Just a little something.”
Calico felt a heaviness in his gut, and it pissed him off. He’d never felt a shred of pity for a meathead, but seeing this young girl, probably the youngest he’d seen in the city, stirred something. He couldn’t help but imagine Beauty at this age had she been given the chance.
Calico missed children. It was part of the reason he hated meatheads so much, and the main reason he would never touch the stuff himself. The world needed children, and not just because without them there would be no future. But for the joy they bring to the present. Without their laughter, their curiosity and innocence, even their cries and fits, the world seemed darker, empty. Pointless.
Beauty’s mother had convinced Calico that she felt the same way, but the second Beauty was born, she booked it to god knows where. It hurt at the time, but Calico only needed his daughter. He couldn’t believe so many people would give up their ability to procreate just for the assurance they didn’t wake up after death. Cowards, every one of them.
Calico knew it was only a matter of time before the weak died off, and without new life balancing out death, the population would begin to dwindle. Which was fine with him. He was never a people person anyway.
The girl lifted herself to her feet, took teetering steps toward him. “Please. You can do whatever you w-want. Don’t you wanna fuck me?” She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her panties, started to shimmy out of them.
Calico bit down on his tongue and shot toward her with a growl. He picked her up by the throat, carried her that way across the room until slamming her backward into the wall.
The girl yelped, clawed at his hand. Her throat undulated under his palm, legs kicking, face veins bulging.
Calico stared at her, unable to look away from the young girl’s face, unable to see past the youth. His fingers unwrapped themselves from her neck, letting her collapse to the floor, and he in turn fell into a seated position just in front of her.
Coughs sputtered from her throat, and she scooted away from him, wedged herself into the corner as tears ran down her cheeks. She screamed, winced, then screamed again.
“Well that’s not going to help you,” Calico said. “Not at all.”
“Who the fuck are you people? Why am I here?” She had one arm covering her breasts now, her eyes darting to her shirt that lay beside Calico.
“Here.” He tossed it to her and she quickly put it on. “And don’t try and act stupid. You know exactly why you’re here.”
She
shook her head, wiped the hair from her face. “No…no, man. I don’t know shit. I…I—”
“What’s your name?”
“What the fuck does it matter what my—”
“What. The fuck. Is your name?” Calico spoke through the wall of his clenched teeth.
“S-sky. It’s fucking Sky, okay?”
“Fucking Sky. You’re selling meat in Ted Fleet’s territory, Fucking Sky, but I’m willing to guess someone else is the brains behind this operation. And whoever that person is knows better than to sell in this city.” Calico leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “And whoever that dumb son of a bitch is also knows who I am, I promise you. I’ve been sent here to find out who you’re working for. By any means necessary. Understand?”
She continued to shake her head, and the longer Calico spent time with her, the more she resembled a meathead. Less pale, less skeletal, but a fucking meathead nonetheless.
“Look, man. I…I don’t know shit, okay? S-someone gave me that, and I don’t know where they got it from.”
Calico wiped his face with his palm, then narrowed his eyes. “Believe it or not, Sky, I’m trying to play nice. But one way or another, you’re going to tell me. I don’t have a choice, just like you don’t.”
She began to weep, covered her face with her knees and wrapped her arms around her shins. Her body rocked, and every now and then, she’d slam a closed fist to the top of her head.
Calico pulled out the small baggie of meat, and the crackling of the cellophane got her attention. She stood up on her knees, tongue sliding back and forth over her thin, flaking lips. It was as if Calico didn’t exist anymore, nor the room she was being held captive. It was just her and the meat. And her need.
He stared at her, at her youthful face, and he felt his brow unfurrow, felt his tightened muscles relax. She knee-walked toward him a few steps, hand outstretched, and he saw Beauty again. Tears threatened to spill as he imagined her growing up past six years old, imagined her becoming a teenager.
“C-come on, man. I’ll suck your dick.”
The words snapped Calico from his thoughts, and when his eyes focused, he saw the girl was on her knees just in front of him now. He back-stepped away from her, crushing the wriggling meat in his hand. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t act like you don’t want it. It’s okay, really it is. Just hand that over to me, and I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
Calico nearly lashed out at her then, and he wanted to, wanted to hit her until she couldn’t say things like that anymore. But instead he just sighed, reached into the bag and pinched a small grub-sized nugget, flicked it toward her.
She looked like a starving dog being tossed a sirloin. Her boney hands clawed at the meat, and she crawled to the corner and slammed it into her mouth. A sickening crunch filled the air as she chewed, her eyelids fluttering, her fingers digging into her hair.
It didn’t take long before she was giggling, running stiff hands over her body and biting her lip. A low moan escaped her lips and her feet slid back and forth over the floor.
Calico stepped toward her, but still kept enough distance that she couldn’t reach out and touch him. “Who gave this meat to you?” He said it in the same tone that he always used with Beauty, soft and friendly and patient.
She giggled. “He loves me.”
“Who loves you?”
Her hands massaged her thighs. “He loves all of us.”
“Who, Sky?”
“My boyfriend. He fucks me and he loves me and he gives me aaaaall the meat I want.” She snickered, hands moving between her legs.
“Where is he? Your boyfriend?” Calico wanted to yank her hands away from herself, but he stayed put, kept his eyes on her face and tried his best to ignore the rapid movement of her forearms.
Her eyes were closed now, upper teeth biting down on her lip so hard, Calico was surprised she hadn’t bitten it off. She breathed deep through her nose as she continued to moan.
“Come on. You be a good girl and tell me where he is.”
She said something, but it was barely audible. Calico stepped closer as the girl lay on her back, hands still working, and repeated the phrase over and over again.
It was an address, that much he was sure, but Calico still couldn’t make out the numbers. He dropped to one knee just beside her, lowered his head just enough to make it out, locked it into his memory. “That’s a good girl. You did good, sweetheart.”
He winced at his own words, didn’t like talking that way with anyone except for his daughter. He knew he had to get out of that room, couldn’t look at this girl any more—he couldn’t shake the sick feeling in the middle of his gut. But as he began to rise, her eyes popped open, and she jumped up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and shoved her tongue into his mouth.
“Fckme.” She spoke into his mouth, her body grinding against his.
Calico shoved her away, and she landed hard on her back, cracked her head against the floor. Her body writhed and she only laughed, began tearing her clothes away.
Calico hurried out of the room, slammed the door behind him. Grunt was there waiting for him, and when he flashed a smile, Calico buried his knuckles into it.
- Chapter 7 -
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten anything for a whole day, Sophia. You need to eat.”
She shrugged. “I’m not hungry. You can eat mine.”
They were pulled over just off of the road in a small nook surrounded by trees. They had stopped by the Grease Shack to grab some burgers and fries, but Paco wasn’t comfortable taking Sophia inside, so he drove on until he found a spot with some cover. The burger was fat and juicy, and Paco devoured it, took sips of Dr. Pepper between bites.
But Sophia wasn’t interested in the least.
“I can get you something else. How about some nuggets? I’ll go back and get them for you, your favorite.”
She shook her head. “Mmm mmm, don’t want that.” She held up Myron and made him dance in her lap.
Dead people don’t need to eat.
“I’m getting sleepy. As soon as we get to the city, we’re checking into the first hotel we see.”
“Not me. I feel fine.”
Dead people don’t need to sleep.
“Sophia…you…”
She looked at him with puppy eyes, but the flesh around them was sunken, dark. Her pale lips curled into a smile.
“Nothing. Hand over that burger.”
He cut the radio on, leaned his chair back, and stuffed the greasy beef and bread into his mouth. Ketchup dripped onto his shirt, and he wiped it up and sucked it off his finger.
Johnny Cash’s gruff voice oozed from the speakers and Paco couldn’t help but smile as he stared at the stars through the windshield and chewed.
They had been driving for hours, almost the entire day. Mrs. Addington’s handwriting was sloppy, difficult to read, but the drive to the city was easy enough—almost all highway. Paco was able to find his way by following the street signs and had given up on trying to decipher the old woman’s directions. But her brother’s phone number was written on the sheet of paper, so he folded it up and kept it in his pocket.
The stars seemed faded, almost blurry. Didn’t look the same as they did at Bear Creek. The moon almost looked red, like a bleeding gunshot wound in the black sky’s flesh. As Paco glared at it, he wondered if there would be any kids in the city. He figured since there was way more people there than in Bear Creek, there had to be lots of kids. Maybe even some his age. The kids back in Bear Creek were too young for him to play with, and there was talk that their parents were brother and sister. Mama didn’t want Paco and Sophia to hang around those people.
“Someone’s coming,” Sophia said and pointed behind them.
Then blue and red lights strobed over the surrounding trees and filled the interior of the truck.
No, no, no!
“Quick…just�
�just act natural, okay?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just play with Myron.”
She only shrugged, her head tilted slightly to the right. Paco wanted to reach over and tighten the ribbon, but the officer was already out of his car and approaching them. Even from the reflection in the side mirror, Paco could tell the guy was skinny. The light brown uniform hung loose from his bony frame. The man’s eyes looked sunk into his head and his lips curled back from his teeth, giving him a skeletal appearance.
The officer tapped on the glass with a flashlight before aiming the blinding beam into Paco’s eyes.
Paco rolled the window down. “Hi…um…sorry we—”
“Where in the hell did you kids come from?” His eyes kept bouncing back and forth between Paco and Sophia, his jaw hanging slack. “I haven’t…haven’t seen a child in so long.”
Paco creased his forehead. He didn’t know what town he was in at that moment, but he was pretty sure they were close to the city. Just because he hasn’t seen any kids doesn’t mean there aren’t any. “Officer, we were just stopping here to eat. I didn’t know we couldn’t park here. I’m sorry…we’ll get moving.”
But the officer wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. His nostrils flared and his tongue slithered from his mouth and ran over his dry lips. “What’s that smell, boy?”
Paco wiped the sweat from his palms onto his jeans. “It’s just, just burgers, sir. We pulled over to eat, like I said.”
“Get out of the car.” His hand was at his hip. The flashlight was clamped in his armpit, its beam pointed into the officer’s face, turning his sunken features into a deathmask of shadow. “Do it now!”
Paco shot a look at Sophia who stared at the officer as her bottom lip trembled. Then he stepped out of the truck.
“Where you come from, boy? And how come a boy your age is driving around in this heap? I know for damn sure you ain’t old enough for no license.”
Addicted to the Dead Page 5
