The Last Revenant (Book 1): The Crash

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The Last Revenant (Book 1): The Crash Page 5

by J. S. Carter


  Jeremy was the first to break the silence with a sloppy salute. “At ease, gentlemen.”

  “Moses!” One of them slammed down his cards and tore Jeremy off my shoulder, squeezing him so hard that I thought he was going to deflate.

  Jeremy managed to push him off and sputtered. “Damn. Squeeze harder, asshole. Doctor’s orders.” He shook his bottle of pills in self-defense.

  “What happened?”

  “Cramps.”

  Another man nodded towards me. “Who’s the badass?”

  They all turned to look and I was confused for a moment. I realized I must have gotten a black eye. I felt like I was stuck in a spotlight.

  “Tess,” I stammered. Definitely not Jessica. Anything but Jessica.

  “Right, Tess,” Jeremy continued. “Don’t worry, she’s cool.”

  Another one of them walked over. “Hell yeah. She’s got the battle scars to prove it.” He snatched someone's cards straight out of their hands and offered them to me. “Mike sucks. You know how to play poker?”

  The man I assumed was Mike threw a hand up. “What the hell?”

  “Don’t worry. You’re pretty too.”

  “You're damn right I am.” He swiped his cards back.

  I froze, still unsure on what exactly I had walked into. I had been sure that I was being held captive in a prison camp just a few minutes ago, but now... I nodded. “I mean, I can learn.”

  The man in front of me slowly nodded his head and smiled, pointing a finger straight at my face. “YES. I like her. She can stay.” He shook my hand for me and introduced himself. “You can call me Scott.”

  Someone else chided up from behind. “No shit. What else would she call you?”

  Scott shrugged. “Scott's fine.”

  Jeremy gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. “Alright, I think you all scared her enough for now.”

  “Yeah,” said Scott. “So did you. What the hell happened?”

  Everyone waited for Jeremy to answer and changed his mind. He pulled me back in front of him. “You know what? Why don't we all get to know each other a little bit?” He pointed at the man that had hugged him. “You've already met nimrod Nick...”

  Nick waved at me with a grin.

  Jeremy pointed at the biggest one in the room, almost twice my height and dark skinned. He hadn't said a word. “That’s L.T. Colonel Murphy, A.K.A. ‘The Law.'”

  “Ain’t nobody above the law,” Nick added.

  Jeremy nodded. “That’s correct, thank you.” He kept pointing. “And then you got shit-for-brains—I mean—Simon.”

  Simon flicked him off. “That’s not for you, dear.”

  Jeremy returned the favor and kept going. “And of course, Mike.”

  He nodded. “It's a pleasure.”

  “Always is,” said Jeremy, and turned towards me. “Any questions?”

  Jeremy, Scott, Nick, Simon, Mike, and Murphy.

  I had to take a moment. I’d gotten used to seclusion and had trouble keeping up with the conversation.

  Nick raised his hand. “I got a question for Moses!” He pointed at Jeremy. “Where the hell did you go?”

  “It’s called recon, Nick,” chided Simon.

  “He sounds lovely.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Make me.”

  “Guys,” Scott intervened. “Shut up.” He went back to Jeremy. “So? What happened?”

  We listened to Jeremy recount what he had seen, how he had traveled outside the camp to help find supplies, though it was just as unclear as it was the first time I had heard it.

  I thought it was strange that he left out what the wounded man had said to Ryan. The idea that someone named Jessica might have somehow been involved with the marks on his body seemed worth mentioning to me. The man had dropped my name for one reason or another, though that much I was fine not discussing.

  Scott didn't seem all too surprised. “I've never seen anything around here that could do something like that. Honestly, it kinda sounds like there's someone out there getting creative. Could be someone from town, some whack job with too much time to himself.”

  Or herself.

  “Maybe,” Jeremy started. “I don't know.” He shifted his weight, uncomfortable. “It doesn't make any sense.”

  “Which part?”

  “Everything.” Jeremy held his hand out. “Imagine you're the one that's responsible. You're probably alone, hungry, tired, you need supplies. So you attack someone that you know has a gun, but you don't kill 'em. You don't even steal anything. Why? What's the point?”

  Mike drew another pair of cards and threw them down. “Because you don't have shit.” Nobody said anything so he elaborated. “Why kill one guy when he can lead you back to the rest of us?”

  A lure to find the camp, to find supplies, to find more victims.

  The thought gave me goose bumps. It reminded me of walking through bad neighborhoods in the city at night. As soon as I would take that first step, my body would automatically pick up the pace, throw a hood over my head and unplug an earbud. The less I looked like a twenty-something year-old college girl and the more I could hear, the better. Most people were good, but there were always the few that viewed the streets as their own personal stalking grounds and the few unfortunate girls to light their radar as their prey. Hopefully they had all finally gotten what they had deserved by now.

  “But you found a way out?” asked Nick.

  Jeremy frowned. “I didn’t. Turns out that along with the guys in here with us and the ones on the gate, there's usually two more circling the camp a few hundred feet out. Ryan’s probably using them as a lookout. Even if we found a way to make it out, the ones on the outside would still spot us. We all know each other and they won't shoot us for fun, but they might change their mind if they see something going down and we ask for it.”

  I looked around and everyone seemed to nod in agreement, but that didn’t make any sense to me. “Wait. What do you mean you all know each other?”

  Scott explained. “There’s a town a few miles North of here big enough to hold up in, but small enough that no one's gonna give a shit.”

  “Except Ryan,” Mike corrected him.

  “Right. Well, we thought we could use an extra hand.” He crossed his arms. “But here we are...”

  Judging by everyone's smug response, they only blamed themselves, and I was starting to get a better picture of what was going on. Where someone might have seen a walled off community, Ryan must have seen an opportunity to take what he wanted, to command by force.

  “Ryan's a dick,” said Jeremy, “But he's smart. He knows we're useful. He probably separated the six of us from everyone else on purpose. He took us out here looking for supplies and found this place before splitting up. The other half went out scouting in their trucks and should be back soon. Everyone in this tent is just slave labor.”

  Nick prodded my shoulder. “Yeah, until you showed up. Douchebag probably wasn't expecting you to carry anything except a short skirt.”

  I tried to smile and let his comment bounce off, but the reality of the situation started to strike hard. Were there other girls in their group or was it just going to be me?

  “Tess?”

  I looked up and noticed that everyone was staring at me again. I must have spaced out when Scott had asked me the second time.

  “Tess, what did Ryan want?”

  I didn’t know what to tell him. I knew the words: sex slave, prostitute, whore, but I couldn’t bring them out past my throat. They were still waiting for a response. I had to give them something. “He... he said the guards were off limits.”

  They kept staring and some of them glanced at each other, but Nick was the only one willing to ask, “From what?”

  I looked down at my shoes. “Me.” I forced a knot past my throat. “Until we got back.” I could feel their silence burn in my ears and embarrassment stab its way through my stomach as if my guts were hanging out from in front of me. It made me wonder wh
at the wounded man had gone through. Which had felt worse? The physical pain? Or everyone watching?

  I was too embarrassed to look up. When I finally did, Jeremy was the only one that still had eyes on me, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

  Mike hit Nick. “Way to go, idiot.”

  “How's this my fault?”

  “Fuck it,” said Jeremy. His eyes bounced onto each of us and commanded our full attention in turn. “We’re leaving before those trucks come back. Once they do, we’ll be outnumbered even more. It’s our best shot. We're not gonna let anyone touch her.” He stopped on me.

  I wanted to say something. I felt like I should have at least thanked him, but Simon was the first to object.

  “Speak for yourself. We’re already outgunned. I mean, yeah, this sucks.” He gestured towards me. “And I'm sorry, you seem really nice, but you have to admit, it beats getting shot at.” He crossed his arms and waited for a moment, nervous, probably unsure how anyone would react to his words. “Plus, you can’t tell us all what to do.”

  Jeremy nodded, curtly. “You're right. So we vote on it. We either make our move or do nothing.” He took a moment and let everyone think about it. “All in favor of getting the hell out of here?”

  Jeremy, Scott, and Murphy raised their hands.

  “All in favor of doing nothing...”

  Nick, Simon, and Mike raised their hands.

  “That’s three to three. Tess, you didn’t raise your hand.”

  I was surprised that I even got a vote, but I realized that we all had at least one thing in common; it was us versus Ryan. If we had to draw up teams somehow, then that was the only way that naturally made any sense. I started to think about Zach and wondered if he was going through the same thing somewhere. I raised my hand. “I wanna leave.”

  “Good girl,” said Jeremy. “Then we need a distraction. It’s the only way we’d ever get a shot. We need to move everyone—the guys at the gate, even the ones outside—in here.”

  They were quiet, so I stepped up. “What about a fire?”

  Jeremy agreed, building on the momentum. “Yeah. At night, something big. Everyone would see it. The supplies are here. They’d all run in to check it out.”

  “Actually, that might work,” said Scott. “Anyone got a lighter?”

  One after the other, they all ended up turning towards Murphy as he casually pulled out a lighter and lit himself a cigarette. We watched as The Law slowly took a drag and held it for some inconceivable amount of time before finally letting it go. “Fine, but—”

  Nick swiped it out of the air with a wink. “Thanks, baby-girl.”

  Murphy silently brooded at that but let it go.

  “Okay,” said Jeremy. “We'll get everything ready in the morning and then start a fire at night, catch 'em in the middle of a shift change while they're sleeping. If we're lucky, they might even leave the door open for us.”

  “Yeah,” Simon snorted. “And if we're lucky, then we won't get shot in the back on the way out.”

  “He's right,” said Scott. “If we don't keep tabs on everyone the whole time, this'll never work. We should at least spend a day or two to make sure we know their routine, then we'll make our move.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And it probably wouldn’t hurt to have a lookout so we don’t blow our load too early.”

  I stood up straight. I needed some fresh air. “I’ll do it.”

  He seemed to hesitate for a split second, but gave me a nod. “Just let us know if you hear anyone nearby.”

  “Right.”

  I needed to pry everyone's eyes off me. And the feet smell...

  Good God.

  I stepped outside and took a deep breath. It felt just as good as I thought it would. The stars were out; there weren’t any clouds to block them and a nice breeze threw my bangs across my eyes. I could never see them like that in the city, or at all, for that matter, but all the way out here the Milky Way poured over the world like a fountain. It was beautiful.

  I was surprised to see Jeremy join me a few minutes later, closing the flap to the discussion inside. “Hey. You okay?”

  I looked back up at the sky. They had a way of making me feel a little smaller along with my problems, though not quite small enough. “Yeah.”

  He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “I'm sorry about Nick...what he said...”

  I shrugged it off. Something like that was bound to happen sooner or later. It was actually probably better that it was with guys like them. Being embarrassed was going to be the least of my problems.

  Jeremy followed my gaze beside me. “How’d you end up out here, anyway?”

  I swung my arm. I wasn't really sure. I had neglected to think about that collection of events on purpose. I figured I would last longer that way. “I got separated from my family…” The sentence cut itself short. It was a vast understatement, but I couldn’t delve any deeper. “This place was supposed to be safe.”

  “You didn’t say anything about Ryan before.”

  “What’s it matter?”

  He let the question go untouched and I could hear the guys argue about something inside. He scratched his head. “We used to work together, you know. I mean, it wasn’t really work. He was one of the first to stop by the town. They were in pretty bad shape and actually nice to everyone. They seemed grateful.”

  I looked over at him. “So what happened?”

  He thought about it. “I’m not sure. I guess people just got used to following orders.”

  “Nobody tried stopping him?”

  “We could have. They were always outnumbered, but we had more guns at first. We should have done it then, but nobody had it in 'em. I suppose it's always easier to stay in line, until one day you realize you just haven't said 'no' enough.”

  I imagined a drunk Ryan standing up in a bar as a cleaner version of Jeremy pressed the tip of a double barrel shotgun against his chest to put some argument to rest, the soot leaving a subtle trace on his suit and daring Jeremy to shoot him with everyone watching. He wouldn’t have been able to do it then, but now he would end up dragging himself and his friends out on the line for someone that he hadn’t even known existed a few hours earlier.

  “Why are you helping me?” Part of me didn’t mean to ask. I started to realize that it would be easier for Jeremy and the others to escape back in town, where they would have the numbers on their side, but now the priority seemed like making it out before anyone could get their hands on me.

  He didn’t say anything for a while and I just looked at him as he watched the sky, probably second guessing himself. “When you saw me on the ground,” he started, “You came up to me and offered me a hand. You didn’t know who I was. You probably didn’t know where you were, why you couldn’t leave, and you’d just gotten the shit kicked out of you. Why’d you help me then?”

  We kept staring at each other, but the words kept escaping me. I used the first ones that popped into my head. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Yeah...” He gave that a short lived grin. “Funny how that works, right?” He walked back inside without saying another word.

  I found myself squinting at nothing. Was that why he was helping me, because it felt right? And what if he was wrong? We would be pitting ourselves against armed men at a time when we all had a lot more to lose. Without the clutter of smaller things to distract us, the stakes would be higher. There would be a chance that someone could end up dying because of me.

  I took a breath.

  What if we were both wrong?

  Paranormality

  I rubbed my eyes with the balls of my hands and reactively swore, quickly remembering that one of them was still bruised.

  “Nice sailor mouth, captain.” Nick dropped his MRE on the ground and took a seat next to me.

  I acknowledged that with a yawn and wiped my eyes carefully this time. As exhausted as I was, I still had a hard time falling asleep the night before. I was sure it had something to do with my impendi
ng freedom. Or lack thereof.

  “You’re one to talk,” said Jeremy. He had decided to find my tent early in the morning and bring me breakfast, but I still wasn’t sure if he had planned on bringing anyone else.

  “Well, fuck me.” Nick tore through his bag. “Fuck you.”

  “What’s the problem, sailor?”

  “They forgot to put a spoon in my goddam bag.”

  Jeremy licked his spoon clean and handed it to him. “You better not have syphilis.”

  “I’ll never tell.” Nick took it without a second thought and I looked down at my own bag.

  Jeremy noticed I had barely touched it. “You should eat. You’ll need the energy.”

  Why? For all the sex I’ll be dishing out?

  I stirred my mush. “You’re sure this is food?”

  “Well,” said Nick, “Food is a large category of things, but I’m not really sure if this belongs in there.” He shoveled another spoonful into his mouth. “What you’re looking at is your standard three thousand calorie expired military issue MRE, or Meal Ready to Eat.”

  “Is it any good?”

  He shrugged. “If it’s good enough for some poor bastard invading someone else’s country, then it’s good enough for you.”

  I figured there must have been some sort of convoluted point to his argument, so I took a bite. It wasn’t great, but I hadn’t noticed just how hungry I’d gotten until someone had shoved food in front of my face. It wasn’t until Scott found us that I actually started to wake for the first time that morning.

  He stopped at the foot of the entrance and held out two buckets in front of us, only to stare in silence while the swinging handles rattled against the plastic.

  Jeremy was the only one brave enough to ask, “What?”

  Two minutes later and halfway across the camp, the four us stood huddled together and we stared down into a ditch that would never have its contents described ever again.

  Nick turned to the single armed guard next to us and back again. “So let me see if I got this right...” He put a hand on the man's shoulder. “You literally expect us to clean up your shit for you?”

  He wiped Nick's grip off and replaced it with another bucket. “Yup.”

 

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