Addicted to the Dead

by Shane McKenzie

  “How bout I take that gun from you and fuck you with it?”

  Paco turned to him, but before he could point his gun, the man was tackled from behind and smashed face-first into the pavement. A splatter of blood surrounded the man’s head and he didn’t move.

  Jake hopped to his feet, dusted himself off. “Get in the damn truck, boy. Come on.”

  Paco grabbed his bag, tossed the gun inside, then got into the pickup. Johnny Cash was right there where he’d left off as the truck sputtered to life. Paco leaned over and hugged the steering wheel, rubbing the eroded spots where he knew Papa had gripped every day for years and years.

  “Are you okay?” Sophia whispered, still unwilling to uncurl herself.

  “Yeah…I’m, I’m fine. Buckle up, okay?”

  She nodded, followed his instructions.

  Nearly running over a few stragglers, Paco followed Mr. Harrell’s car out of the parking lot and into the street.

  - Chapter 14 -

  “You scared of a dead girl now?” Calico’s entire body was flexed as he stood in front of Fleet in the man’s office again. He had passed two police officers stuffing something into their pockets: payment to stay loyal no doubt. The Ughs and Grunts shifted around uncomfortably, ready to strike if Calico tried anything funny.

  “You know the rules. I let the pellet gun slide for a while, but I think you’ve had enough fun.” Fleet popped a writhing morsel past his teeth, moaned as he rolled it around his mouth, then swallowed and fluttered his eyelids. “What’s the little dead bitch need gun training for, Calico? Tell me that.”

  Calico slammed his fist to the desk, knocking a couple of picture frames over. A tremor rode from his knuckles up to his elbow, but he just gritted his teeth and leaned his face toward Fleet’s. The bossman didn’t even flinch and just smiled back.

  “My daughter sits in a cell every day, waiting for me to finish whatever fucking duty you give me. She needs stimulation. She needs activity.”

  “May I suggest a jump rope? Or how about Monopoly? I’d be happy to provide both for you.”

  Calico, with his knuckles still pressed against the desk, pushed down so hard he expected the wood to break in half at any moment. He realized he was now surrounded by Fleet’s men, every one of them eager to feel their own knuckles tenderizing his flesh.

  “I’ve got a job for you. You think you can pull your panties out of your pussy and handle this for me?” Fleet hit a button on his desk. “Or are you gonna throw a tantrum and make my boys’ day?”

  It felt like his blood had turned to acid in his veins. Calico could hardly breathe he was flexing so hard, every muscle in his body bulging against his skin. The taste of blood coated his tongue as he clenched his teeth to the point of shattering. But he thought about Beauty, thought about the blinking red light under her flesh. “What’s the fucking job?”

  A woman dressed in an American flag bikini walked into the office, escorted by a tall, skinny man that Calico was almost positive was Bunny Rabbit. The woman’s eyes circled the room as she was shoved along. There was hardly a shred of meat on her. Her breasts looked like rotten fruit that had been stepped on and her ass sagged, hip bones sharp and pointing out. Fleet patted his lap and the woman rounded the desk and took a seat.

  “Remember that address you got for me? It’s time to show that little twerp whose territory this is.” He popped a small nugget into the woman’s gaping mouth, patted the top of her head. “Gotta make an example of the little fucker, let all the others with visions of grandeur know who the real boss is around this fucking city.”

  The woman tore her bikini top away and squeezed her deflated breasts together as she giggled and swirled her ass over Fleet’s lap. Next came the bottoms which she shot at Calico’s face like a rubber band. Fleet slapped her ass, kneaded her breasts as his men chuckled and watched the show.

  “You know what to do. And make sure word gets around, you got me?” The woman leaned forward, tongue-bathed Fleet’s neck and ear, and slid her bare pussy over the man’s pant leg.

  “That all?” Calico said through his teeth. Sky’s face, her flailing corpse being fucked from all angles as she swung from her harness, thrashed in his mind.

  “You that upset about the fucking pellet gun?” Fleet grabbed the woman by the hair and yanked her away from his face. “Look, you handle this good and nice, you can have your fucking BB gun back, okay?”

  Calico turned his back and headed out of the office. Fleet whistled behind him followed by multiple sets of footsteps following Calico through the door.

  Hot anger and hatred bubbled inside of him, and he didn’t care who it was anymore.

  Somebody had to fucking die tonight.

  - Chapter 15 -

  With the sun blazing, Paco got a better look at the city. It was nothing like he imagined it would be. Not beautiful the way Mrs. Addington had described it. He expected big shiny buildings with plate glass windows and smoothly paved roads and colorful storefronts and the constant current of well-dressed business people. Instead, the buildings, though tall, looked like diseased and rotting stumps with scattered broken windows like puncture wounds. The roads were cracked and uneven as if some buried beast were trying to unearth itself. The only storefronts he saw were what appeared to be bodegas, each of them decorated with hordes of addicts stumbling around outside the door, harassing any passersby for money or meat, though those were just as desperate-looking as them. There were more vacant, gutted-out businesses than anything.

  And it didn’t seem to Paco that there were any normal, healthy people anywhere. Every single person he saw looked on the verge of starvation and death, their skin pulled tight over their emaciated frames, their eyes sunk in, teeth protruding and yellow. It was as if the entire city was hooked on meat and jonesing for its next fix.

  They couldn’t go a few blocks without seeing some kind of advertisement for Ted Fleet’s Dead Meats. The older man’s withered, smiling face was plastered on billboards and benches. Posters were slapped on the decaying brick walls of vacant businesses. Signs hung from the windows of the stores: Ted Fleet’s Dead Meats sold here.

  Paco thought about Mama and Papa, wondered where they were. Somewhere in the city according to Mrs. Addington. This bastard Ted Fleet was going to cut them up and sell them, and just the sight of the old man’s face made Paco twist his fists over the steering wheel. Once we get Sophia the help she needs, maybe Mr. Harrell can help me save my parents.

  As they continued to drive through the festering concrete behind Mr. Harrell’s car, Paco figured Mrs. Addington had no idea the city was this bad. She had mentioned that it had been over twenty years since she had been there last, and Paco wondered how it could have gotten so bad in that amount of time.

  “Look, Paco,” Sophia said as she stared out her window and pointed. “It’s the guy from TV. He’s everywhere.”

  Paco imagined the old man cackling as he sharpened a long blade, a bloody apron hanging from his neck. “Yep. I guess he’s pretty famous around here.”

  “Remember how the meat at the store was wiggling around in its package? And me and Mama were laughing?”

  “Yeah, I remember that.”

  “You think Mama and Papa’s parts are all wiggling around in some plastic somewhere?”

  Paco was sure they were, or if not, they would be eventually. He knew he didn’t have much time to try and find them, stop Ted Fleet from slicing them into pieces. Images of their parents standing on a conveyor belt along with other recently deceased as they were one by one sent into the grinder would haunt his dreams forever. Or their twitching bodies lying on a table, watching the butcher as he carved away bits and pieces and packaged them up for mass consumption. But I have to take care of Sophia first. Mama and Papa would want that.

  “I don’t know…I hope not.”

  Sophia just smacked her lips and nodded, her attention still trained on the passing decomposing landscape.

  Mr. Harrell’s car took a left and Paco
followed. It didn’t take long for the scenery to change, almost as if there were some invisible force field blocking the rest of the city from entering.

  There were trees bursting with life here, level and even roads with bright green street signs at every corner. Black cameras sat atop the signs, moving side to side, following his truck as he drove through. Big extravagant houses sat behind lush lawns the color of freshly picked limes, each one more impressive than the next. There were even people walking along the sidewalks, as skinny as the others but well-dressed, and they smiled, that desperation absent from their faces. Fluffy dogs pulled some of them eagerly on the ends of taught leashes.

  “Wow, are we gonna live in one of these houses, Paco?”

  “I…I think so.” Though there were butterflies flapping like mad in his belly, it was as if their wings were coated in poison. A strong sense of dread began creeping in, and Paco had to fight the urge to turn around and get him and his sister the hell out of there. But he just continued down the smooth road behind Mr. Harrell, gripping the steering wheel with enough force to break the bones in his hands.

  “Paco, what’s the matter?”

  “Huh? Oh…nothing. It’s just, I don’t know, this doesn’t seem real.”

  The creases in her forehead deepened and she just stared at him as they turned another corner, traveling deeper and deeper into this seemingly picture-perfect neighborhood.

  “It’s…It’s nothing. Just excited I guess.”

  “Yeah, me too. And you promise Mr. Harrell is nice?”

  Paco shrugged. “Seemed nice to me. The only reason we’re doing this is because he said he could help you. If he can’t, we’re out of here.”

  Sophia nodded, bit her lip.

  “But yes, he’s nice. He gave us these new clothes, right?”

  “Yeah, I love my dress. I hope Mrs. Harrell is pretty. She won’t be as pretty as Mama was, but I still hope she’s pretty.”

  Then Mr. Harrell’s car pulled into a long driveway with a huge, sparkling mansion on the other end of it. It looked like a cement tongue extending from the house’s wide mouth, pulling them in to swallow them whole.

  Paco and Sophia gawked at the house as they approached it, and simultaneously said: “Wooooooow!”

  The house was as white as bleached bone, with big ivory-colored pillars standing tall in the front like giant cemetery monuments. Sunlight gleamed over the vast windows and polished double doors. Paco had never even imagined a house could be this big, and as he stared at it, he allowed a bit of excitement to shine its rays into the cloudiness of his doubt.

  The fancy car came to a halt and Jake stepped out, opened the door for Mr. Harrell who turned toward the truck and smiled wide.

  “Come on out, kids, and see your new home!”

  Johnny Cash’s singing was drowned out by the hammering of Paco’s heart. The truck idled as he stared at the behemoth house and the smiling man in front of it.

  “Are we gonna go?” Sophia bounced in her seat, obviously eager to meet these people, see the property.

  “Yeah…sorry.” He cut the truck off, shoved the door open, and dropped to his feet. Before he could circle the pickup to let Sophia out, her door squealed open and she hopped down.

  “Well, hello there,” Mr. Harrell said as he approached her. “You must be Sophia.”

  As Paco joined them, she wrapped her arms around his waist, suddenly bashful. “Yes,” she said with her face pressed into Paco’s side.

  Mr. Harrell chuckled. “Oh, there’s nothing to be afraid of, I assure you. Why don’t we go inside, meet Mrs. Harrell, hmm?”

  Sophia pulled away from Paco, smiled and nodded.

  The three of them walked to the front door together while Jake parked the car into the garage. Paco and Sophia looked up at the house, nearly breaking their necks to see its full height. Paco watched his sister closely to make sure her neck didn’t snap out of place again, but it seemed to be holding up okay. Maybe it’s stiffening up, he thought.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Mr. Harrell said as he unlocked the door and slipped inside. “Why don’t you kids wait here a moment while I go round up the missus. I won’t be but a minute.”

  And he shut the door, turned at least three locks.

  Paco and Sophia gave each other a long look, both of them shrugging it off. Paco had imagined Mr. Harrell had called his wife on the phone to let her know they were coming, but it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe she doesn’t like phones, he thought. Or maybe she’s disabled in some way, needs her husband to help her to the door.

  They took the opportunity to take in the home and their surroundings. A gargantuan tree spiraled from the front lawn and reached for the sky. Paco was scared of heights, couldn’t even look up at something tall without feeling disoriented. But Sophia used to climb trees like a monkey with four arms back home.

  “Wow, look at that, Paco,” she said as she trotted toward the tree. “Bigger than any trees we had at home. I bet I could climb all the way to the top!”

  Paco thought about her mangled leg, wondered if she could climb at all with so much meat missing from her calf. He imagined her making it halfway, her shin bone snapping, and her body twisting and flailing through the air as she fell.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t…at least for now.”

  She ran her palm over the bark. “Come on, Paco. Just one time.”

  The grass felt like a carpet under Paco’s shoes. “I, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Got us a climber, huh?”

  Paco flinched and nearly shouted, then spun on his heels to face Mr. Harrell, who stood in the doorway. “Yeah…she’s really good, too. But she’s…she’s too sick right now.”

  “Well, we don’t want you to go and hurt yourself, now do we? Especially not on your first day.”

  Sophia stepped away from the tree with pouting lips, then wrapped her arms back around Paco as she stared at Mr. Harrell.

  “You kids come on inside. Mrs. Harrell can’t wait to meet you.”

  It was difficult for Paco to walk with Sophia hanging onto him like that, shuffling her feet so they almost tangled up with his. As they stepped through the doorway, they were engulfed with warmth and a vanilla smell.

  “Hello, kids. It’s so wonderful to have you in our home.”

  The woman’s voice, weak and squeaky, came from the top of the stairs.

  Paco couldn’t hold back his gasp when he saw her.

  - Chapter 16 -

  His skin parted as the blade glided over it and Calico felt the warm calm spread through him. The SUV sat parked outside the small house, obviously one that had been vacant for some time, the previous owners probably ingested by the local meatheads by now. The wood was gray, rotted in most places, with square cardboard cutouts covering the windows.

  Through the door that had been kicked in by Fleet’s boys, Calico saw the commotion. A few shots rang out after the initial spray of bullets sent by the Ughs and Grunts, and Calico secretly hoped at least one of the cronies took a forehead full of lead. Calico sat on the hood, flipping his knife end over end in one hand as he glared at the door with blood-hungry eyes.

  “You boys head in first, take care of the peons. I’ll be right behind you for the main event,” Calico had said. They all nodded, cackled with anticipation. The truth was, Calico couldn’t wait to get his hands on this motherfucker, the man responsible for Sky’s deterioration.

  There was a moment of quiet, though the moans and grunts of the wounded poured from the front door before being silenced by quick single shots.

  Then rapid footsteps. A man in a yellowed wife beater and sagging blue jeans came sprinting out of the front door, a widening red spot on his upper chest and stomach. He bared his teeth and whimpered as he escaped, his eyes darting behind him to the door as he anticipated being chased.

  “Going somewhere?” Calico said as he leapt from the hood like a jaguar from a tree. The sunlight turned his blade orange as it cut through the air, then found the ma
n’s flesh and tunneled through it.

  “Ngghhh…” Blood spat from the escapee’s lips and stained his teeth as he grimaced.

  Calico wrapped his fingers back around the hilt and twisted the knife hard in the man’s stomach, then lifted the man’s head up with his free hand so they were face to face. The man’s face transformed into Fleet’s and Calico growled as their foreheads touched, twisted the knife like a jack-in-the-box crank. His hand was awash with hot blood and the man choked and gasped.

  “You motherfucker. How does it feel, hmm? How the fuck does it feel?”

  He yanked the blade upward, unzipping the man’s torso like a coat. Clamping his blood-soaked blade in his teeth, he grabbed hold of the sliced flesh with both hands and tore it open. The man no longer made a sound, no longer resisted.

  But Calico didn’t care—he wasn’t done with him yet.

  The slippery entrails gleamed the color of copper under the sun’s glow, and Calico grabbed hold of them and pulled them out like a magician pulling never-ending scarves from his trunk. Once the stomach cavity was empty, he stood, plucked the knife from between his teeth, and slid it over his own lower bicep, sharing blood with the dead meathead steaming on the ground beneath him.

  “Take it, bitch. Take it!”

  His foot stomped down on the man’s exposed ribcage, over and over, snapping bones and mashing organs. Blood painted his shoe and pant leg, but he kept pounding down blows, kept kicking. Then he fell to his knees, reached into the mess of bone shards and gore, and pulled the man’s still heart from his corpse, squeezed it like he was checking its ripeness.

  “Hey, man, what the hell you doin’?”

  Calico’s knife was flung from his hand before he even knew he was doing it. The Ugh who had spoken just barely dodged it, yelped and cursed as he ran his hands over his body, making sure he was still whole. The knife stuck into the wood of the house, dripping blood.