by Locke, Linus
“Let me help you up, Mike,” the older man said. He took Jonathan’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get you something for your head.”
“What the hell are you doing, old man?” Bill said, stepping right up to the older man. Both men stood about the same height. “That little bastard can suffer for all I care. Do you remember this?” Bill pointed to the scar on his face. “He sure didn’t ask if I wanted any goddamned help after he cut my face open!”
“As I recall, Bill, you shot a few of their guys in the neutral zone. He was just defending himself.” The old man led Jonathan back through the doors, keeping the fiends at a distance. They both reached their decayed hands back toward where Michael was waiting. “Come on, you dead bastards.” The man pulled his fiend away from the door before it could reach the young man behind it.
As the doors swung shut, Michael bolted down the hall. He had to think of something fast. Rounding the curve of the hallway, he came to the large windows that faced out into the parking lot. Two men stood next to the BMW while another stuck halfway out while he dug through the contents. Michael knew he couldn’t make it past without them seeing, and he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. He ducked back behind the desk and cut down the hall with the gift shop.
“There really isn’t much left, but you know that, don’t you, Mike?” the old man asked, half talking to himself. Jonathan watched as he picked through some of the cabinets that had been picked through many times before. Bill stood on the other side of the large room, leaning against a bed. Both of the fiends had been hooked to a bed across from them. They reached for them, moaning and gurgling, but neither Bill nor the old man seemed concerned.
“Just let me kill the little shit, Randy,” Bill said. His patience was obviously wearing thin. The man kicked away from the bed he was leaning up against and walked over to the fiends. “If you won’t let me kill him, let them. We can say we were never even here. Maybe we showed up … just a little too late. Or what about Tonya? Her blood is spilled all over the hallway out there. Maybe it was this asshole and not one of these dead fucks. He broke the truce by killing her; now we kill him.”
“That’s enough, Bill.”
Jonathan’s vision had cleared, and he was well aware of what was happening, but his head felt like it would split open. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears. He couldn’t smell anything anymore, but he was sure by the looks of this room that it was ten times worse than the hallway had been. “Just let me go back to my group. I just need to grab a few things and I will be on my way.”
“He talks!” Randy said in a surprised, friendly tone. “I was starting to think that knock on your head made you stupid.”
“I have a man that needs some medical supplies. Please, let me grab what I need and go. I never saw either of you.”
“Well now!” Randy stated. “I guess it’s in the truce that we have to let you get supplies to keep a man alive. What do you need, young man.”
Relief washed over Jonathan, but the throbbing in his ears made it hard to remember what he needed. His head hung down on his chest while he searched his memory. “An NG-tube,” he finally managed.
“Ah.” Randy’s eyes lit up. “Those are right down here. Let me grab you a few.” He continued to talk as he walked away. “We had to grab a few of these ourselves a while back,” he said, his voice sounded slightly muffled from inside a closet.
Bill stepped even closer to Jonathan, and Jonathan could tell the man didn’t like him. The hatred radiated off of him so heavily that Jonathan was sure it would set his clothes on fire.
Randy came back quickly enough, and handed the young man a few plastic packages, each one containing a length of clear tube. Randy smiled wide as he looked at the teen.
“Uh, is there … um, food for this? Some kind of formula?” Jonathan asked, unsure.
“Of course! Silly me for not grabbing some.” Randy walked back down the hall, disappearing back into the closet again.
“Can I help you with something?” Jonathan asked as he noticed Bill stepping even closer. The look on the man’s face was toxic.
“No,” Bill replied. “I just can’t wait to kill you.”
Randy walked back just as Bill took another step closer. The old man carried a cardboard box containing two dozen cartons of formula. “This should do it.” He smiled at Jonathan. “But let me show you how to use it.”
“Oh I will not need to know how. I really appreciate your help, but I can be on my way.”
“That’s right, you have the nurse. Very kind woman, she is,” Randy said. “But I’m going to show you anyway, just in case.” He set the box down next to Jonathan and grabbed one of the plastic bags containing the NG-tubes. Pulling it open, he grabbed the tube and rolled it in his fingers.
All of a sudden Jonathan felt very uncomfortable. His heart rate increased rapidly, causing the throbbing in his ears to rattle like a drum roll. “You really do not have to show me,” he said with a nervous smile. He hopped down off of the bed and turned to grab the box. Randy lunged at him, wrapping the tube around his neck, not very tight at first. “Please!” begged Jonathan. “I just want to help a friend.” He could feel the tube tighten around his neck. The throbbing started to slow, but he wasn’t sure it was a good thing.
With his free hand, Randy pushed the box of formula off the bed and under the fiends. Their dry, rotting fingers curled as they reached for the living bodies. The box crumpled under the foot of one of the fiends, the liquid formula inside spilled onto the floor. Jonathan hoped that wasn’t all there was, but his head felt as if it was drifting off of his shoulders, so he doubted it really mattered anymore. The tube kept tightening more and more around his throat. He knew that he would die today.
Just as his eyes began to close forever, Jonathan heard two loud pops. Air rushed into his lungs as the tube slipped away from this neck. The throbbing in his ears continued, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The fuzz in his vision quickly ebbed, and he could see the two fiends lying in a heap on the floor. Blood and formula pooled around them. Randy and Bill had been ordered back against the wall. Their hands held high above their heads.
“Well, well. This looks like a breach of the truce, ol’ boy,” Mad Man Rob said. “And that means we get to take something from you.”
Both Randy and Bill looked between Michael and Jonathan. “What the hell is this?” Randy finally asked. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“Don’t you worry about my brother,” Michael said.
“He attacked us first. I take it he didn’t know about the truce,” Bill jumped in; his smile was crooked on his face.
“You attacked us,” Michael stated. “I was right there behind the door.”
Randy smiled. “You hide, like a little girl while we took your brother. I am not surprised that you are all cowards. How about you fight us like men?” Randy shared Bill’s crooked smile.
“Like you were fighting my brother like men?” Both of their smiles faded. “I get to take something,” Michael said in a commanding voice. He winked at Bill and drew a line across his left cheek with his finger. “Maybe I’ll put a mark on the other side.”
“You little shit!” Bill spat. “I’ll kill you.”
“Bill, that’s the way of the truce.” Randy said, defeated. “Get up there and take your lickins like a man.”
“It’s your turn,” Michael said, pointing to Randy. “I want you this time.”
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me you little punk,” Randy retorted. “You aren’t coming near me.” Bill gave him a despising look.
Jonathan walked back around the corner and found the room where Randy had grabbed the supplies from. It took some digging, but he found a few boxes of the formula, as well as boxes of the NG-tubes. With his head spinning, Jonathan grabbed everything he could carry, which was two boxes of the formula and a full box of the tubes, and walked back out to the room where the men stood arguing. To his shock, Rick and Matt were holding d
own the old man, while Mad Man Rob stood above Bill holding the sharp blue flame from the torch above his head.
“Please!” Randy begged. “You don’t have to do this. We can forget this ever happened. Nobody was hurt, besides, we was just messing with the kid. Fooling around isn’t a breach of the truce.”
Michael looked as if he didn’t hear the man. He pulled a rusty pocket knife from the pocket inside his coat and flipped one of the small blades out. It clicked into place and Randy muffled a cry. With Rick holding Randy’s head down firm against the bed, Michael pressed the rusty, two inch blade into the man’s left cheek. He pulled it across, tearing the skin more than cutting. Randy screamed. With the line carved across the top, Michael drew a long hook hanging down from the middle.
“J” he said. “For Jonathan. Next time you want to mess with my brother you look at that in the mirror.” Michael spit into the bloody letter and drove his fist down hard into the old man’s nose. The cartilage crunched loudly as it broke, forcing shrill cries from Randy. He grabbed his face as Rick and Matt released him.
“I’m going to kill all of you!” Bill shouted as the blue flame flicked out with the turn of the brass knobs on the torch. He climbed to his feet and ran to Randy. “You’re all dead!”
“Everybody’s dead,” Mad Man Rob agreed as the group helped Jonathan grab all of the supplies and walk out through the door into the waiting room.
Jonathan looked over at Michael and hid a smile. Seeing his brother do that to the old man filled him with a morbid sense of joy. He had acted tough after what he did to Elliot, but it had been eating at his soul like a tick that had latched onto his heart. Watching his brother carve into Randy’s face had reassured him that times really have changed, and they now call for him to be as sick and twisted as anyone who stood in his way.
The cold air was a rude awakening for him as they stepped out into the world. Now he noticed that Michael was trying to hide a smile. Looking out past the BMW, Jonathan saw three men tied to the large letters that spelled out “Hospital”. Their guts had been spilled in a pile at their feet. Steam rose from the gut piles, and the men snarled and twitched as they saw Jonathan and the others exit the glass doors of the hospitals.
Before Mad Man Rob climbed into the driver’s seat of his truck, Michael called out to him from the BMW, “You know we just started a war, right?”
Mad Man Smiled and sat down on the soft bench seat of the Chevy pickup. The cold engine started after a couple seconds of rough turning. On the way out, the group drove up the other exit and came out on Mulberry Ave. Just as the hospital vanished from sight below the hill, Mad Man Rob heard the infuriated screams of Randy and Bill. A few moments later those screams were followed by three gunshots.
Chapter 19
Guillermo’s eyes opened, but he couldn’t move. His mind wandered and his throat felt as though someone had been squeezing it. The room he was in was dark and smelled of something that he couldn’t put his finger on. A hint of cinnamon. He tried to remain calm, but he was scared. The last thing he remembered was saying goodbye to Reese and setting out for Iowa.
A ringing in his ears was enough to confirm he was still alive, at least. After all, he hoped that death would be very peaceful. Especially after the hell he had been living in for over a year. Thanksgiving? He heard footsteps and panicked even more as he thought about a fiend walking right up to his paralyzed body and tearing him apart. The footsteps were light and even, though, not shuffling. It was a person, and Guillermo wasn’t sure if he should close his eyes and pretend to sleep or let whoever was there know that he was awake and ready to leave.
To his left he could see that there was a large window. He tried to turn his head to look out of it, yet his neck was stiff and wouldn’t move. Then a light blasted in his eyes from up above him. His first thought was that he had been abducted by aliens, but he quickly dismissed this as stupid. Not even God could be so cruel to give them the living dead and alien invasions. “P-p-please,” he croaked through his dry lips. He could feel something in his throat.
“It’s alright, Guillermo. You’re safe,” the kind, female voice assured him. “My name is May. Your friend brought you here after an accident. You’re recovering wonderfully.” Her warm smile was hidden in Guillermo’s blurred vision, but he could hear it on her voice. “As soon as you are ready, I’ll pull this tube out and get you out of these restraints.”
Guillermo tried to say something but May placed her hand over his mouth and shook her head. She peeled a piece of tape from his face and began to pull the tube from his nose. “This won’t hurt, but it will be slightly uncomfortable,” she stated. “Your throat may be sore for a few days, so we need to keep an eye on your eating habits.”
With the tube removed from his throat, Guillermo already felt like he was breathing better. The restraints came off from his arms and legs, but he still couldn’t move too much. “My head hurts, and my throat is dry,” he said, trying to work up enough saliva to swallow.
“I’ll bring you some water and help you sit up,” she said kindly. “I’m sorry about the restraints. There were some nights were you would have terrible convulsions and almost fall out of the bed.” She returned a moment later with a clear glass and helped Guillermo sit up, wedging pillows behind his back. She tipped the glass to his mouth and pulled it away after just a sip. “We need to take it slow.” She then lifted his right leg and pushed the knee toward his stomach, followed by his left leg.
“Jonathan.” Guillermo said hoarsely. “Where is he?”
“He’ll be around.” She moved his arms next. “I have a pumpkin pie going.” May lifted the glass of water to his lips again. “You get some rest, now. If you’re feeling better in the morning you can have some pie.” Guillermo watched as the woman walked out of the room toward what he assumed must be the kitchen.
Pumpkin pie for breakfast? he thought. His stomach growled and he realized that pumpkin pie sounded as good as anything right now. Guillermo closed his eyes and hoped to see his friend soon.
Guillermo awoke to the smell of the warm pumpkin pie slice sitting next to his bed on the stand. He slowly stretched his arms out as he reached for the glass next to it. His mouth was still dry, and his throat hurt. The imprint of the tube could be felt in his esophagus each time he swallowed what little saliva he could produce. Being able to move his arms, even just a little, brought a smile to his face.
“I’ll grab that,” the young, vibrant voice called out as Jonathan ran into view. “Let me help you.” Guillermo smiled at the sight of his friend, a tear rolled down his cheek. Jonathan helped him sit up and stuffed the pillows under him as May had done just a few hours before.
“How are you?” Guillermo asked roughly before taking a drink of water.
“I’m fine. There is someone I want you to meet.” Jonathan’s face lit up.
“Ok,” Guillermo said slowly.
Jonathan smiled wider, spun around in a circle and said, “Nice to meet you, Guillermo. I’m Michael.”
Guillermo felt his neck muscles twitch, causing his head to shake subtly. He was sure Jonathan must have hit his head pretty bad, also, but then Jonathan came walking in behind his brother. Both boys looked identical. Guillermo even noticed that Jonathan, whichever one he was, had his hair cut. The shaggy short mop that had grown over the months was gone now, leaving the kind of haircut one would receive if they told the barber just a little off the top.
“I am glad you are alright, my friend,” the real Jonathan stated as he grabbed Guillermo’s rough hands and pressed his forehead down against Guillermo’s. “I am so sorry, Guillermo.”
“That is the Jonathan I know right there,” Guillermo said. “I should have heard the difference.” He smiled. “You have such a proper way of speaking.
“I’m not propah ‘nuff for ye, Gov’na?” Michael asked in a terrible English accent that caused Guillermo to crack a wide smile and chuckle painfully. “I’m just playing. It’s really nice to meet you though
, Guillermo. Jonathan really cares about you.”
“I would die for this guy,” Guillermo claimed as he shook Michael’s hand. “Now, how about some of that pie?”
The twins sat with Guillermo for an hour while he ate what little he could of the pumpkin pie and drank several glasses of water. He had regained enough control of his arms to feed himself for the most part, but the full glasses were a little too heavy to lift. May had come in for a few minutes and said it would be several days, at least, before he was walking again.
“It’s a good thing you got that catheter or you’d piss the bed,” Michael exclaimed as he watched Guillermo finish off his third glass of water. Then he shook his head, “I don’t want to be here when May pulls that thing out.”
Guillermo gave a nervous look. “I don’t want to be here for that, either. So, you guys haven’t said anything about how long we’ve been here.”
It was Jonathan’s turn to give a nervous look as he glanced over to Michael. Michael shook his head. “I’ll tell him,” he said. Placing his hand on Guillermo’s shin, Michael continued. “It’s been … it’s been two years, Guillermo.”
Guillermo spit his water out onto his blanket and caught Jonathan’s crooked grin. “You jerk!” he said as his heart crawled down out of his throat and settled in where it belonged. The twins laughed. “You boys giggle like a couple of school girls.”
“It has been about two weeks, Guillermo,” Jonathan said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I am serious,” he added, catching Guillermo searing glance. “You have been sleeping for two weeks. You should not need to rest for a while.” Jonathan smiled after saying that last part.
