A TERRIFIED SCREAM jolts Danziger from his tree. If not for the belt securing him to a branch, he would have fallen to the ground. Not really a death fall but an ankle twisting one for sure. He had slept until the middle of the night. A few corpses have gathered around the fenced in livestock feeding pens surrounding the barn. They haven’t figured out how to climb. Though Danziger did see one climb a chain link fence once, it was a newly dead and he’d had little muscle deterioration. These DKs look dead, long dead, even in the moonlight.
The detective in him ponders at how slowly these dead move. I thought maybe the freshly converted could still move with speed, but there’s no rhyme or reason to their movements. The one who took out his partner moved so fast. The only one he ever saw move faster than living people. This unpredictable nature makes them more dangerous. If they ever move past the swarm mentality, they will be unstoppable.
Danziger leaps the stock pen fence and crouches low. Another piercing scream cuts through the night. Enticing more undead. Somehow he knows the pain the girl suffers lacks Levin’s normal ritual. It seems to be an attractor. Either for him or the gimps. It must be to draw DKs. This maniac has no idea Danziger even found out who he was or that he’s still chasing him.
He bolts through the opening of the feedlot into the barn. The quick tactic of rolling in and rising to a half crouch with gun drawn should have been effective, but Levin foresaw this approach. Danziger’s ankle brings a tripwire taut, releasing a spring loaded two-by-four trap. Had he walked straight into the barn his stomach would be bruised. Instead his nose breaks open, not broken, but certainly smashed and bleeding.
Danziger feels the warm sun on his face as he rouses. Before he basks in the moment and recovers his bearings, he feels his full weight on his wrists. The pain jolts him into full awareness. He fumbles to get his footing and pushes up with his toes to take the weight and pain off his arms. A bear trap with some of the teeth removed clamps over his wrists. A swing set chain secured with a padlock keeps it in place.
“I had to improvise. I couldn’t bring my entire workbench.” The short muscularly built man spreads out his implements of torture on a makeshift table of hay bales covered in plastic.
Danziger darts his eyes around the loft. He doesn’t dare move or the rig may slice his wrists. The teenage girl strapped to a particle board with belts has an S&M mouth ball gag between her teeth. Jammed into her left foot is a mortician’s tool used to drain the body fluids of the dead. Jabbing it into her must have sent her into agony.
Levin takes shears from his tool selection, cutting off her pants. “I’m so nervous. I’ve never performed for an audience before.”
“I’m going to kill you, Levin.” Calling him by name causes pause, but Levin won’t let anything distract him.
“Why must you insist on such idle threats? You’ll not escape. If you pull on the teeth the bear trap will slit your wrists. It’s not along the wrists, which is a quicker death, but you will cut deep enough to bleed out, and if you pull free at least one of your hands will be completely severed and there are no hospitals to sew it back on.” He pronounced it like ‘sue.’ “And it doesn’t matter…there are no more forensic scientists either. I think it will be much more enjoyable to work without worrying about the blood splatter.” At this, the girl summons her last bit of strength, struggling to jerk free. “You ever watch Dexter? Now that man had talent. But you know I was always bothered by the sheer number of plastic rolls he used for each murder. Did he have stock in the plastic wrap company? Did he put it on his credit cards? He used a bulky amount of plastic.” He cuts the material of her shirt.
“I never had time for Hollywood’s version of cop life.”
“No, detective, I’m sure you didn’t. After all, had you spent a night at home watching television with your daughter she might not have been such an easy target. She told me you were never around. Always off chasing criminals.”
“You fucking bastard!” The bear trap teeth draws blood as he struggles.
Levin makes each cut into the girl’s shirt slow and laborious. Each small cut draws tears from the girl’s eyes. “See. I figured someone would follow the girls I took. If their family survived the herd. I left one for dead when she wounded herself in the escape. I’d no idea you were still alive and tracking me.”
Snip. He clips another inch of her shirt. “You’re a little more beaten up than in all the newspaper photos I saw you in. You know there’s no better way to disrupt a police case than to have the lead investigator dismissed and have someone new forced to take over. Too bad the next detective didn’t have a blonde daughter.”
Danziger controls his urge to jerk free. He can’t kill this guy if he cuts off his own hands.
“So I’m sure your experts theorized exactly what I did to these girls and in what order. This one here’s Kelly. She attends Greendale High, or did before. She played soccer. I bet they told you my victims mean nothing. No. I know Kelly’s name. They are people to me. Breathing living works of art. And…” He runs his hand down her calf. The muscle tenses. “She’s so athletic. There’s no fatty tissue on these legs.” He massages the skin the way a first-time lover would. “Great build for a girl and she still has hips.” Tears roll from Kelly’s eyes. “Your daughter didn’t really have hips yet.” He pulls off Kelly’s ruined shirt. “Of course, I doubt she’ll run again with a mortician’s tube in her foot. Thing’s sharp. It’s amazing what you find in these abandoned homes. People didn’t bother to pack their dirty little secrets when they fled for their lives.” He taps the ball gag.
Danziger searches for his moment to escape.
“I miss my tools, but I’ll make do. He cuts off her panties. “Looky there! You young girls today always staying so trim. Look, just a tuft of hair to tease.” He grabs the pubes and tugs. “You ever let a boy see this?”
She shakes her head no.
“Why spend so much time grooming when no one sees this?”
The dam behind Kelly’s eyes breaks.
Levin takes a bladed dagger and scrapes clean the hairs. With surgical precision he cleans all the hairs from her legs. “I bet you miss being freshly shaved.”
Danziger knows he cleaned them of all body hair, except the head which he would curl into a wavy shape. Something he found attractive in the girls he took. He remembers spending hours thumbing through high school yearbooks looking for matching hairstyles. Whatever girl Levin idolizes had to have worn her hair like he gave the victims. FBI profilers insisted it could break the case.
Despite the razor edge flaking each hair just below the skin, not one single break occurs. Danziger forces his eyes to search for a way out. Every time he glances at the teen he sees his daughter’s face. He knows she went through this. She felt this torture. She cried for her father, the cop, to come save her, and he didn’t. She died believing Dad would save her. He failed. He won’t fail this girl, too. He yanks full on at the bear trap, getting the chain secured to the beam to give a bit, but not enough for him to break free.
Levin unclasps the mouth gag. The girl screams. Aroused, the killer fondles the seat of his pants. He takes a bag and dumps the contents on his tool table. A variety of makeup spills out. He rifles through, searching for the right colors before climbing on top of her. She struggles, whipping her head. The killer snags her jaw and pushes in his thumb until she stills. He paints her face, creating a pallet of what she should look like. Levin turns this poor girl into a duplicate model of his first victim. Whatever induced his need to murder must be replayed on the same girl over and over again. Kelly is now her in Levin’s mind.
Levin climbs down and removes his clothes, folding each garment before placing them on the table. Never losing his raging hard-on, he climbs back on the table and works himself onto her. He fumbles himself, aligning with her hole. The first thrust sends a shooting pain into Danziger. He hears flesh tear. Screams. She keeps screaming. The thrusting becomes more violent with each wail she releases. Faster and faster un
til the screeching becomes constant. Blood pools under her legs.
Danziger read the medical reports on each victim. The irreparable damage or repeated violent attacks each girl experienced could have only been repaired through surgeries.
Each thrust barely keeps up with her shrieks. Blood splashes from between their groins. Her voice breaks. Her mouth remains locked open but no longer sounds. Levin halts his thrusts. With no squeals to excite him he goes limp. He slaps her. The makeup smears.
“Scream, you dirty cunt. Scream!”
Even if she wants to, her voice box fails to even let out a whimper. He slaps her face again leaving behind a handprint. He twists the blood drainer. The throbbing pain brings her to tears but no sound emanates from her.
Levin takes his razor tool, grabs Kelly’s left breast, twists up on the nipple and pulls it up, lifting her up off the table. He draws the blade around the areola. “I’ll cut it off.”
Danziger realizes if she doesn’t scream then she’s useless to him.
“Scream!”
Just scream, girl. Give me a little more time to rescue you. Scream!
“You fuckin’ bastard. She blew out her voice box. She may never talk again.”
“Unlike your daughter. She screamed. She screamed for more. She liked it. She begged for more.”
Danziger gives in to his anger and leaps toward the killer. The bear trap snags him and cuts his wrists enough to allow trickles of blood beads to flow. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“She said that, too.” He shifts into a little girl voice. “My daddy will find you and kill you if you don’t let me go.” Levin’s voice returns. “Well, you didn’t find me. You failed. I enjoyed her. I made it last a long time. Like I’m going to do for this one.” He slices into Kelly’s flesh, breaking open the skin.
“WELCOME, BROTHER.” EXALTED at his appearance, the man with the Bible waves him in.
The one with the belt strikes the woman again.
Emily’s savior balls his fists as if he were invisibly drawing his magnum. He imagines the pull and each shot he’ll make. He plays the events about to transpire in his mind. He notes each man’s position. All of the men have scars from a brand on their arms. He rolls his eyes back into his head at the thought of having to deal with a cult. Apocalyptic cults had popped up everywhere since the fall of civilization and these nuts had branded themselves with a flaming cross.
“What did this woman do?”
“She must be punished in accordance to His word.”
“That would depend on what she did.” He feels the other three men all shift their weight to an offensive posture.
“She is the worst, most offensive kind of whore.”
“I didn’t realize there were levels.”
“Oh, yes, brother. Leviticus 21:9,” he reads from the Bible, “‘and the daughter of any priest, if she profane herself by playing the whore, she profaneth her father: she shall be burnt with fire.’”
“Well, that about covers it. I’ll leave you to it.” He turns away on his heel but pauses. “How do you know she’s guilty of such a sin?”
“She told us and offered herself to us to spare her the rod.”
“So she said she’d do anything you wanted if you didn’t beat her, and you took that to mean sex, making her a whore?”
“We don’t question what God wants us to do. We must purge the wicked from the world.”
The chest bruises slow his draw by a mere two tenths of a second. In a gunfight it would be detrimental to his future existence, but these nuts don’t see the danger until the second man falls. The third gets his shotgun strap hung up as he unslings it from his shoulder. The Bible wielder falls last.
He flips open his knife and cuts her free.
“Thank you.” Two of the lashes on her back have broken through the skin.
“I wonder if they have a medical kit. I’ll clean your wounds.”
“I just want to go.”
“I get it. You don’t trust me either.”
“No, my father. He’s very sick.”
He removes the guns from the fallen cultists. He twists the arm of one to inspect the brand. Flames surround a cross covered in unreadable symbols due to the burn. These marks must hold meaning to the men.
He realizes his rookie mistake. “Were there only four of them?”
She hunches over, still naked. “I only saw four.”
“What’s wrong with your dad?” He pulls a coat from the truck cab.
She takes the coat. “Pneumonia, I think. We have a small camp and we’re running out of food. Dad’s a preacher and thought he had left a few boxes of food in his office at the church from the food drive. I went to get them. I was hoping some steady food would help his condition.”
He flips open the canvas tarp over the back of the truck. Nothing living. He climbs into the bed finding boxes of food and clothes.
He nearly falls out the back trying to climb down without landing on his left leg. “How far away is your group?”
“I can’t bring you to them.”
“Fine, take this.” He holds out a medical bag. “It has some antibiotics in it. They’ve expired, but they could still help him.”
“Why are you helping me?” she asks.
“It’s what I do.”
“Then you’re the one sent by God.” She smiles at him.
“Not quite. I should really clean those cuts on your back,” he offers.
“I just want to get out of here.”
“Let’s find you some pants and you take this truck of supplies back to your group.”
“I just want to keep my daughter safe.” Travis paces behind his desk.
“As any father would,” Emily’s savior agrees.
“I prepared your list and I’ve a favor to insist upon you.”
“A tall order, Colonel.” There’s a lot of people out there who will find a military convoy interesting.
“My daughter’s obsessed with trying to save people. I put her on gathering your list of people with skills you needed. She’ll pick the best. She also wanted to bring a few more people. I gave her a second personnel carrier to fill. I’ve a few seats left on it. Tell me if you need any others. I’ll get them. I’ll even send a M816 Wrecker crew to help move any abandoned vehicles off the road.”
“Colonel, I taste the desperation in your voice, but I only have enough food to feed a certain amount of people. Doubling my order, and this is not extortion, will cut into my food supplies.”
“I’ve trusted you. I’ve loaded the trucks with MREs. I’m assigning you troops and supplying you with equipment I’ve been ordered to destroy.”
Now that catches his attention. Part of him figured he could always scrounge after the military abandoned the place. “They want you to blow up the base?”
“There’ll be a final contingent of helicopters to evacuate remaining troops. I’m to blow the hospital, ammo depot, and motor pool. All military buildings.”
“Our government actually willingly abandons its citizens.”
“What did you think was going to happen?” The colonel seems shocked this warrior has had any doubt about what’s going to happen.
“I assumed they’d just leave the Fort. Let the people fend for themselves.”
“I’ve equipped your caravan with double the supplies you asked for.”
“You want more than me protecting your daughter.”
“I need you to wait two days to leave. I can’t blow the buildings until the choppers arrive. Most people will think they bring food rations. I’ve a demolitions expert to destroy the base. I’ll have to leave him and a small team at the main gate.”
“You want me to take them with me.”
“We don’t leave anyone behind.”
“I thought that was the Marines?”
“It’s part of the Soldier’s Creed. The commander-in-chief of this United States has forgotten. I will not let my soldiers be forgotten.”
“Don’t follow
the order. Stay and protect the civilians.”
“I’ve already followed worse orders. I can’t protect civilians without food. Once they realize there’s no more food they’ll tear the base apart. Starting with the team I’m ordered to leave behind.”
“One thing keeping us safe is being off the grid. My compound’s secure. Thanks to the gun trainer you sent me, most of my people are crack shots. We’re growing our own food and no one gets into the compound without a complete body search.”
“We should’ve instituted such a policy. Some Infected have gotten in and turned others, costing me valuable soldiers.” Travis drops his head in reflection of all the poor choices he’d made since assuming the base commander role.
“You’ve told all these people they’ll have to work for their meals?”
“The mission has been conveyed to them. Those who accepted it have been isolated from the other campers. Those who said ‘no’ have been relocated to another part of the camp so no rumors of a safe haven could be started.”
“What skills does your daughter have? She may be delegated to farm labor.”
“Shoveling shit never hurt anyone. I want her safe.”
“I’ll keep her that way. Let me see who she’s gathered.”
Travis hands him a clipboard.
He flips through the papers. “Mechanics, carpenters, two nurses. She has made good choices. Maybe a few plumbers.”
“You’ve flushing toilets?”
“The key to any great empire is proper sanitation.”
“You know history.”
“Reading was rather a requirement in my line of work before the world ended.”
“You always struck me more of a Chaucer than a Clancy. When we meet again you’ll have to tell me what you used to do.”
“We meet again after this and I will.” He hands the clipboard back. “I want a sniper.”
“I assigned one to the gate team.”
“A military ambulance and crew qualified to operate it, and another cargo truck full of heavy weapons.”
“You expecting to fight a war?”
No Room In Hell (Book 1): The Good, The Bad and The Undead Page 26
