Salt of Gomorrah

by Alex Mersey

  Alli had already fallen on the grub. She tore open a packet of raisins and devoured it.

  “I guess this explains the bare shelves in the storeroom,” Beth said, picking out a packet of nuts mixed with sunflower seeds as she dropped into a chair.

  Sean tore into a box of crackers, but he didn’t sit and he didn’t look particularly happy.

  “What is it?” asked Beth as she munched, the taste exploding in her mouth, the almonds and walnuts filling the gnawing hole in her stomach.

  He turned a thoughtful look on her. “Why unpack the kitchen cupboards and bring the food out here?”

  “Have you smelled the kitchen?” Alli quipped.

  “Precisely,” Lynn said, coming in with Johnnie hanging on her arm, not limping, but taking care with each step he placed on his bad ankle. “Someone brought all this stuff out here after the power went off.”

  “After the fridge contents had already turned,” Sean added.

  “I assumed as much.” Beth nudged her chin at the littered tables. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes,” Lynn ground out, her brow pinched in tension. That didn’t stop her from bringing Johnnie over so they could partake in the feast.

  “I’m going to take a look around,” Sean told them, throwing over his shoulder as he walked off, “Stay here.”

  “Is he kidding us?” Alli snorted. “I’m not leaving this table, ever.”

  Lynn peeled back the tab on a can of peaches and went to fetch a stack of white porcelain bowls and spoons from the kitchen.

  “Do you think they’re still here?” asked Beth, listening hard. The rain had finally arrived with a pitter-patter against the glass. “They would have heard us, surely? We weren’t exactly trying to be quiet.”

  “I don’t know.” Lynn sounded distracted, her gaze flickering to the doorway by which Sean had left as she spooned peaches into a bowl and pushed it toward Johnnie. “But if they’re not here now, doesn’t mean they aren’t coming back.”

  Alli shrugged. “There’s enough here to share.”

  “Your friends Brad and Paul weren’t interested in sharing,” Lynn reminded her.

  They weren’t our friends! Beth stuffed her mouth instead of rehashing that old argument. Once she was done, she walked over to the windows. The brewing storm had brewed, rippling up a fierce wind that slashed the trees and drove the rain against the windows with a pelting force.

  Lightning cracked the sky, blazing a bolt of white fire through the broiling clouds. Seconds later, thunder rumbled in the distance. The gods are raging. They didn’t get many thunderstorms in London, but when they did, that’s what her dad always said. The gods are raging. Right this moment, it felt like they really were. Like they had every reason to rage and rant, to unleash their fury.

  How had this happened?

  How had the world gone to shite in the space of a single tube ride?

  Aliens… Beth wasn’t sure if she believed that. Maybe if she’d seen this mothership that Brad had mentioned, that Sean had spoken of when she’d quizzed him during one of their rest stops, but she hadn’t. She couldn’t come up with a better explanation, either, so she accepted the whole alien invasion. She just didn’t believe it. And that made absolutely no sense, which is why she tried not to think about it too hard.

  Lynn’s voice turned her attention from the storm outside.

  “See anyone?”

  “The men’s shower room has been used since it was last cleaned,” Sean said. “Don’t know if that means anything. And someone’s definitely rifled through the club shop. But no sign of them now.”

  Beth’s spirits perked. “Did you say shower room?”

  “I also said club shop.” A slow grin snaked over his grim expression. “Come on.”

  The dining room led into a lounge area with plump sofas and inviting armchairs, a built-in bar by the windows, the main entrance and reception area to their left.

  Sean saw Lynn’s gaze flash to the reception desk and shook his head. “I already checked. The phone’s dead.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “Damaged? Like the gas lines?”

  “Something like that.”

  The shop was little more than a shallow alcove displaying merchandize near the front doors. The shelves were lined with gimmicky trifles, wobbling dashboard golfers, slogan mugs and fake trophies. There was also a glass covered display cabinet that seemed to hold genuine trophies.

  They all made a bee-line for the shelf of t-shirts, except for Johnnie. He went to investigate the bin of golf clubs.

  The t-shirts came in white, three standard-sizes and a choice of cheesy slogans. There were also packs of men’s boxers, and since that was it so far as clothing went, they each grabbed a pack to combine with size large t-shirts so they could wash out their salt-crusted clothes.

  “Golfers really like their slogans,” Beth commented. She held up a pair emblazoned with Help me find my balls on the waistband. “Seriously?”

  Sean chuckled to himself. “That’s pretty good.”

  Alli rolled her eyes, but she pinched the pack out of Beth’s hands.

  “Mom, look.” Johnnie had found a kiddie-sized club that, turned upside down, made a decent walking stick.

  “That’s clever,” Lynn exclaimed, giving him a warm smile.

  The shop did yield other useful goodies. Flashlights, for when the daylight ran out. Peak caps for when they set off again in the harsh summer heat.

  “When the food runs out?” Alli suggested with a hopeful lilt.

  “Tomorrow,” Sean insisted.

  He also insisted they take turns showering, ladies first. If anyone did show up, someone should be there to greet them with their pants on. He made it sound like a matter of politeness, but Beth knew that was just for her and Alli. And maybe for Johnnie.

  What he really didn’t want was to be caught unawares and buck naked.

  Beth couldn’t decide if that worry was legitimate or unreasonably paranoid. She wasn’t totally naïve about the world they lived in, but she hadn’t been brought up to fear every stranger she’d yet to meet, either.

  Sean’s directions to the restrooms took them through the lounge, down a couple of steps and into a passageway without any windows. Beth considered returning for one of those flashlights, but the passage wasn’t pitch dark, shadowy light filtering in from both ends.

  They passed two doors along the way, locked, presumably offices with phones that didn’t work. Maybe an additional storeroom, but they already had more food and water than they could consume or carry and Sean had been stubbornly determined about leaving first thing in the morning.

  In principle, she didn’t disagree.

  They’d been incredibly fortunate to stumble across this club house, a veritable safe haven. But that’s exactly what it was, an oasis in the middle of a warzone, and she wanted out of the warzone. An extra day of rest, however, would give them all a chance to recuperate and heal, especially Johnnie and Alli, although she didn’t exclude herself—her feet were killing her. It wasn’t worth the argument tonight, though. They may all feel differently in the morning.

  The passage t-boned and split to the ladies one way, gents the other. Daylight streamed in from tall windows on either end. Lynn took Johnnie with her to the gents, giving them all some privacy.

  The ladies restroom was small, only one shower stall and two toilet cubicles, but it was outfitted in sheer luxury. A long vanity with creamy soaps and a hair blower (that didn’t work.) Fluffy, clean towels rolled up on a trolley, pairs of wrapped, disposable flip flops on the lower rack.

  “I’ve just found our walking shoes,” Beth said, showing Alli as she unwrapped a pair to reveal flimsy plastic straps and thin rubber soles. They’d wear out pretty quick, but they weren’t bulky either. She could probably fit a couple of spares into her backpack.

  Alli was less than impressed. “Aren’t those meant to be worn in the shower?”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.” The frosted windows
in the restroom provided marginal light, so Beth propped the door open with the towel trolley. “Is this okay?” she said to Alli. “It’s not like we’re going to be prancing about in the nude and, anyway, I doubt anyone will come down this end while we’re busy.”

  “Whatever.” Alli tried to run her fingers through her sticky hair, failed. “I don’t care if the entire Man U football team barges in. I just want to wash all this grit off.”

  “I thought you were all team Arsenal,” Beth teased as she tossed Alli a towel. “Catch.”

  Alli caught. “Exactly, duh. I don’t need to be covered in river to not mind the entire Arsenal football team barging in on me. Speaking of hot guys…” A cheeky smile snuck out. “What do you think of Sean?”

  “Sean?” Beth shrugged. She hadn’t thought much of anything other than getting them to safety. “He seems nice enough. And he got us this far, which is a big plus.”

  “I was referring to his hotness,” Alli wheedled. “Those dreamy gray eyes and, you have to admit, his face is rather fine.”

  Beth laughed. “He’s also twice your age.”

  “I was thinking of you.”

  “Exactly how old do you think I am?”

  “Ancient.”

  Beth laughed harder, then grew serious, unslinging her backpack to deposit on the bench along with her clean t-shirt and boxers. “You get dibs on the shower, but I want to check that leg first.”

  “My leg is fine.” Despite her brave words, Alli sent a quick glance toward the door before she started stripping down. “It just throbs a little, no pain.”

  “We should take the bandages and tape off, so you can wash the cut out while you shower.”

  Alli gave her best not happening look. “I’d rather not pelt my open wound with water, thanks.”

  “I thought you said it didn’t hurt.”

  “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Alli, I need to check, and apply a fresh dressing.”

  “Fine, okay,” Alli groused. “But can I at least shower in peace before you have your wicked way with my thigh?”

  She slipped off into the stall without waiting for a reply and, moments later, the sound of water slashed the tiles.

  Beth slumped onto the bench and dragged her backpack closer to see if she could fit the flops inside. Two measly pairs. Gah! And how were they supposed to carry any of the food or water with them tomorrow? She hadn’t seen any bigger backpacks around the place. For that matter, she hadn’t seen any First Aid kit either, and theirs could definitely use some refills. Maybe they should try breaking into those locked offices after all.

  “The water’s not getting hot!” Alli shouted.

  “That’s cute,” Beth shouted back. “You actually thought there’d be hot water? The power’s out, princess.”

  “A girl can dream!”

  Not in this world.

  Not anymore.

  She couldn’t rely on those offices holding anything they needed. Beth went into her backpack again, looking for things to lose. The cell phones, definitely. Those were never going to work again, although she took the SIM cards out to keep.

  Her fingers brushed over the hardcover of her small travel sketch book. She pulled it out, considering, flicked through the pages of her pencil drawings. She’d started doing the mash-ups years ago, when she’d seen two women with strikingly different senses of fashion shoved close together on a rush-hour tube journey. She didn’t expect her mash-up designs to produce any hot rages, but it was fun to pick and choose between two unknowing victims and create something crazy.

  Beth stroked the cover with her thumb, then replaced the book. Some things were worth more than an extra pair of slops or an additional can of fruit.

  She heard the water cut off and quickly undressed.

  A dripping, shivering Alli emerged from the shower, teeth chattering. “That was torture.”

  “You’ll warm up in a bit,” Beth reassured her. The midday heat hadn’t waned yet, and the storm seemed to have thickened the hot humidity rather than bringing any cool relief.

  Still, she didn’t linger any longer than her sister in the icy shower. There were bottles of body wash and shampoo in a rack attached to the tiles and she sprinted through the task of washing and rinsing. The best part of the shower was wrapping her body with the soft, fluffy towel when she stepped out.

  Alli was already dressed in boxers and a t-shirt that hung to her thighs, standing at the vanity and washing out underwear and shorts. “I’ve done yours, too.”

  “That’s why I love you.” Beth went over to help her hang the wet clothes on the towel rack. “And no, this doesn’t get you out of me redressing that thigh.”

  “No good deed goes unpunished,” Alli muttered.

  A low wolf whistle sliced through their mindless banter like a razor sharp knife. Beth spun about, sucked in a startled breath at the stranger in the doorway. He was slightly older than her, mid-twenties, kind of rugged looking in a good way, kind of scruffy with stringy hair and beard growth—weren’t they all?—and she had questions. Lots of questions. Who are you? Where did you come from and, more importantly, is it still standing? Are there others? But that could wait for when she had some clothes on.

  “Do you mind?” Her fingers fluttered to the knot over her breasts that held her towel in place. “This is the ladies.”

  “And what pretty ladies you are,” he drawled, stepping inside, his gaze slip-sliding over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

  Good looking? Scrap that.

  “Beth?” Alli said uncertainly.

  “We’re leaving.” She took Alli’s arm, pulling her along in a wide berth around the man, not bothering to stop for her new clothes or her backpack on the way to the door. She felt slightly ridiculous, total overreaction, but she didn’t care. There was something off about this guy. Quite frankly, he gave her the creeps.

  Her head was snapped back, so sudden, Beth didn’t realize he’d grabbed her by the hair until fire lanced her scalp. Pain and shock blinded her, trapped the air in her lungs, only for a moment but that was long enough for him to slap her spine up against his chest and lock an arm around her throat without a struggle.

  “Hey!” Alli had turned in the doorway, a stunned look on her face. “What are you—?” She froze, her mouth wide open.

  What?

  What was happening?

  And then the gun he’d pulled out came into Beth’s line of view as he extended his arm around her.

  “Alli!” she screamed. “Run!”

  At least, she thought she’d screamed. But the sight of a gun pointed at her sister had terrorized her vocal chords. All that came out was a whispered cry of anguish.

  Alli’s survival instinct took over, thank God. She lunged sideways, out of the doorway and out of sight.

  With Alli out of immediate danger, the full horror of her own situation poured over Beth like a bucket of ice water. Fear prickled goosebumps over her skin, rattled her bones as the man dragged her deeper into the room and shoved her up against the wall.

  “You won’t make a fuss, will you?” He dragged the long, cold barrel of the gun along her throat, a leer distorting his face. “It would be a shame if I had to decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth. A real shame, especially for you.”

  Beth’s gaze flashed over his shoulder, glued to the doorway.

  Her legs kept buckling out from beneath her, and each time that happened he held her up with the hand still fisted into the back of her hair, her weight ripping at her scalp until her eyes watered.

  The cold metal against her skin fell away.

  That moment of relief was all she got before he used his gun hand to strip the knot from her breast and toss the towel aside. Shame and anger burnt her cheeks as she felt his eyes rove down her exposed body, but she wouldn’t look, couldn’t tear her gaze from the doorway.

  Alli got away.

  She’s gone for help.

  Sean’s on his way.

&nbs
p; That’s what she kept telling herself, over and over, over the other thoughts that tried to push through. It only takes one second to pull that trigger. One blink. A single heartbeat.

  “This is better.” He wedged a knee between her legs and the gun was against her skin again. “You’re a sweet little thing, so fucking hot.”

  She felt the metal trail down her throat, over her collar bone, digging into the plumpness of her breast. Blood pounded at her temples, her heart thudded inside her chest, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown him out.

  “No cavalry coming to save you, sweetheart, but tell you what, you be nice to me…” The tip of the barrel circled her breast. “…and I’ll be extra special nice to you.”

  She was numb all over, shivering inside her veins, but somehow she still felt every cruel inch of the metal as he squared the point of the barrel on her nipple, tasted the saltiness of sweat and tears on her lips as the fear leaked out of her.

  “Click,” he whispered.

  Beth squeaked, her stomach turned inside out. She looked at him, into those eyes as hard, cold and cruel as the gun molesting her, and she believed him. No help was on the way. Sean wasn’t coming to save her.

  “Please…” she whimpered, her teeth chattering the plea. “Please, don’t…”

  “Please, please…” he mimicked with an ugly, vicious smile. “Okay, then, lady’s choice.” The point of the gun slid off her nipple and trailed down the valley of her breasts, over her navel, came to a rest at the junction of her thighs. “What’s your fucking pleasure? My pistol or my cock?”

  “Please…” Her voice shook, her knees collapsed out from under her. He yanked her by the hair, forcing her to stay upright against the wall. Oh God, Oh, God. “Please…”

  “Since you ask so nicely, sure, you can take a turn with both.”

  The cold metal slid between her thighs.

  “Don’t move a muscle.” His face flushed with sick desire. His eyes glazed with the feverish power he held over her. “You wouldn’t want my finger to slip on the trigger, now would you?”

  The tip prodded her opening and Beth’s mind snapped, broke in two.