by Timothy Cox
‘Let’s just shoot these two and go home. I’m getting hungry.’
‘Oh I don’t know, I’m having too much–’ he fired. Birds’ screamed and flew up into the sky.
Clint looked at Pete. Both hands now over his face.
‘You thought I was going to shoot you didn’t you?’ He said laughing.
‘Please leave us.’ Clint said.
‘Not after what your friend just did,’ he rubbed his face, ‘this pretty face is worth a woman’s ass.’
‘You killed his uncle. Please…’
He lowered his gun and touched his chest. ‘My heart. I think it’s bleeding. Maybe you’re right…maybe I should–’
‘Just kill them already.’ They let go of Pete and walked backward. ‘Just look where you’re aiming that gun.’
‘Which one should I kill first?’
‘That one.’ He pointed at Clint. ‘The man’s got a bandage on him, just put him out of his misery.’
He aimed the gun and looked through the scope; as if he was shooting from a long distance. He breathed in. And fired the gun.
‘Headshot!’ The bullet went right through his skull. A stream of hot water jetted backward.
‘Good shot Benj! You see headshots ain’ a problem for you. You just need to, stand a little closer.’
‘Yeah yeah. I think this one is shitting his pants.’
‘I still think you shoulda shot the one with the bandage first.’
He lowered his gun, ‘does it matter?’ He aimed the gun at Clint.
Clint looked up at the sky. He could feel the cool morning breeze no more. It was as if everything he had ever felt, ever dreamed, all the pain and suffering, all the love – was just: a byproduct of a bigger picture. Something else. Something grand. He contemplated saying sorry to whoever sat up there. But he didn’t believe in hell or heaven, so if he was going to die, then die he will. He did not feel sorry for anything, except for one thing: failing her.
‘You know,’ the gun cocked. ‘Maybe we should just leave him here.’
‘What? You joking right?’
‘Nah I’m not. Just like in the bible. That bit where they leave a man to speak the truth.’ He raised his gun at the sky and lowered it on his head like a cross. ‘I the-Benj, thee repel you from all yo sins. I let you live so that you can speak the word of meith.’
‘Ok God. Let’s go.’ They said laughing.
That’s the last words Clint heard. He only looked up when the sound of chirping birds returned.
(15)
He woke up cold. The sky was dark and the birds were gone. The world around him was upside down; his left cheek the only thing warm. He heard the trees’ talk around him. It weren’t the trees. It were the things inside them that made that queer devilish sounds. A creature with a hundred legs, akin to nightmares, began crawling up Clint’s leg.
He felt it crawl up his calf. Its legs like wire. Each tap scraping skin. He chose to ignore it, he had more important things to do. He got up from the ground and rubbed the soil from his cheek. His mouth felt dry. He looked at the floor and tried recalling what had happened. The flashbacks came quick: a roaring engine, deer dead, Toad was the first one to look up, they saw them, they had guns, jetting blood, he was the only one alive–
Clint burst out crying. Tears ran into his mouth. The salty taste quenching his need for fluid. He rolled into a fetus position and cried his emotions out. The pain in his stomach returned. A wound reminding him that it was trying to heal. He contemplated dying where he was; in the hands of nature. At least here he could die in peace. No violence, no hate. He wiped snot from his nose and crawled back up. He thought of her. He felt like crying all over again because the truth hurt. There was always the possibility that she was long dead.
‘No.’ He said. ‘No.’ He said again. ‘No – I will not accept–’ he wiped a fresh tear from his eye ‘–that my daughter is dead.’ He walked towards a tree that made him feel uneasy. It reminded him of a witch with bad hair. He patted the trunk like it was his friend and walked past it. He was trying to figure out where he was. And then the thought occurred to Clint. It made his stomach ache bad. Now that Pete and Toad were dead, there was no way he could get the medicine. He didn’t know where to go – who to see – where he was. These thoughts made him sit back down.
An owl flew past. Or maybe it was a bat. It seemed to laugh at Clint. He saw the road in the distance, and on it, two lumps. He got up realizing that he must have stumbled into the forest and collapsed.
He was right. The two lumps were two bodies. He covered his mouth when he smelled blood. He was a few feet away when the body moved. Toad’s body. He stood frozen; there was no way he could still be–
A head bobbed up. Its eyes looked at Clint. It knew Clint was too big for him and ran.
‘Yeah fuck off fox you–’ he coughed and moaned. He felt his stomach and felt his fingers wet. When he looked down he saw that his bandage hung half open. He touched his wound and winced. There was soil all over it. He tried brushing most of it off and closed the bandage best he could. He also noticed that his right leg was wet. He frowned. He rolled up his trousers and saw what it was: a squished centipede. He grabbed its head and pulled it out – the thing broke in half.
‘Fuck sakes!’ He yelled at the sky. He scrapped the rest of its body with his nails.
In the distance, a head popped from a bush. The fox wanted to see if the human had gone away. Clint sneered at it as if the thing could understand facial expression; apparently it could. It ran away.
Clint looked at the bodies and stopped himself from crying. He had enough of pain. He closed his eyes and tried remembering where Toad pointed his cane at. He said Leal Town was just over the trees. He nodded.
‘I’m sorry guys. I’m really sorry for all of this. This is all my fault, I should have never let you come with. I hope you find peace wherever you are.’ He turned his back and walked. Only to stop. He glanced behind at Toad’s body. There was always…the possibility that he had something on him. He looked up at the gray night and bit his teeth down. He didn’t like blood. He frowned as hard as he could and went to his body.
His skin was still warm. Clint looked away from his face and began searching his pockets. He didn’t find anything until he checked his shirt pocket. He felt paper. He stuck his hand inside and felt his shirt cold: blood soaked cloth. He pulled the crumpled paper out and stumbled away.
- Dear Father-
I know we don’t speak anymore. I know times are hard. I know we have grown distant. But please, I beg you, keep this note with you at all times. You will find my address below. I live in Leal Town now. I think when things cool down we should maybe meet up, it will be nice. I love you father, I always will…
Clint couldn’t control his fingers. He could barely put it away. When he did, he looked up at the sky. ‘Thank you…’
(16)
He looked at the paper, lowered it, and stared at the house in front of him. A mailbox kept yapping as the wind blew; opening its cap and revealing a mouth full of molded steel. The house itself was like any other. All windows were boarded shut. The front porch’s wooden beams were all broken, except for a few that stood straight. The only normal thing about the house was the metal chicken on the roof; skew, but spinning like a top. Before stepping forward, Clint looked at the sky (with its golden brush strokes), and hoped that is what the right place.
The porch sounded like it wanted to implode. Clint readied himself and put his hand on the door. He didn’t know how to knock. It felt odd, out of place.
‘Who’s there?’ A voice said.
Clint stepped back startled. The wooden floor screamed.
‘This house taken. Now shoot.’
‘My name is–’
‘I have a gun and I’m pointing it right at you. Now move.’
A breeze picked up. Clint smelled old wood. ‘I don’t want any trouble.’
She smacked the door; it sounded like gun shots. ‘There’s n
o food here. Now I’ll give you one more chance before I blow your–’
‘Toad. I-I knew Toad.’
Silence. Something touched the door which made it bob. ‘Say that again?’
‘I swear to God I mean no harm. I knew Toad and, I don’t know if you know Pete but I knew him too.’
Things fell behind the door; it sounded heavy. A chain rattled. The door opened – enough for one eye. ‘Who are you?’
‘My name is Clinton Filosy. I knew Toad.’
‘You knew him?’ Her voice cracked.
‘I,’ he lowered his head and touched his stomach. ‘He saved my life. We were on our way here when…’ the words couldn’t leave his mouth.
‘Is he dead?’
Clint looked up and said it without flinching. ‘Yes he is.’ He waited for her to react. He waited for her to start crying.
She opened the door. ‘That’s such a shame. Come on in.’
The house inside didn’t look much better than it did outside. She pointed at the kitchen and told him to go there. He walked past a candle in the living room that gave just enough light. There were books everywhere. A stack of paper sat on the chair with a pen on top. It was the only chair that didn’t look too dusty.
‘Sorry, the kitchen is a mess,’ she walked in with the candle. ‘I didn’t expect any visitors.’ She chuckled. ‘You look hurt.’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ He watched her walk to the fridge. She opened it. It was dark and dusty with a lot of cans. She knelt and searched. Her hair looked a little oily, her dress a little dirty, but she was clean. In good condition. ‘Why do you put the cans in the fridge?’
She glanced and wiped her hair from her face. She smiled: a sweet but lonely smile. ‘I don’t like the cupboards, they’re full of spiders.’
‘You live here alone?’ He asked, thinking that the house was big.
‘That’s right. Me and those books you saw, I like to write.’ She opened a can.
‘So…I’m sorry about Toad.’ He analyzed her.
‘Oh, yeah, it’s a shame.’ She got out a bowl with webs in it. ‘Hey do you mind eating out of the can? I don’t like webs.’
He frowned. ‘Sure, I don’t, mind.’
She flicked the can in her hand and smiled. ‘That’s good, because I usually eat out from it.’
Clint didn’t understand why she was so calm. He had to know. ‘Sorry, but the news didn’t seem to affect you?’ He frowned, he thought he sounded rude and brash.
Her mouth dropped. ‘Oh I’m so sorry I should have told you.’ She gave him the can. ‘She was my best friend, Amelia. She…died a few years ago.’
Clint shook his head and sighed. He picked up the rusted fork and gazed at the can’s murky caramel water.
‘I take it you came for the medicine?’
The fork fell from his hands. He felt his fingers wet. His heart raced. ‘Do you have it?’
(17)
How something so simple can save a life, he thought. He tapped the needle and prayed to God. It went into her skin. When it was done, he fetched his favorite chair: the only one in the house. He sat next to her, held her hand, and stared out the window. It was just like any other day: dark gray skies with a hint of gold.
Later that night, while dreaming, something squeezed his hand.
Part two out on Amazon US / UK
Bill had a previous life; a good loving life. But after the stock market crash of 2015, everything changed. Years have passed, and so did the city landscape. Buildings lay in ruin, cars are nothing more than black steel, and birds are making nests.
The city landscape is not the only thing that's changed; so did its inhabitants. For a human to survive in a post-apocalyptic world – they need to think and behave in a certain new...way. Billy is one of those people. A man that's trying to figure out who he really is – but also surviving in his own unique way. People change to survive; even the crazy ones.
Part one out on Amazon: US / UK
PLEASE READ GOVERNMENT LEGISLATION:
1) Earth has unlimited energy but limited resources.
2) If you turn twenty-one on the fifth year cycle – it is compulsory to join the Resistance.
3) It is law to study high-tech material for future preparation.
4) Failing to join the Resistance, if you qualify, will lead to severe repercussions for you and your family.
5) Earth needs you. Earth needs minerals.
Jack qualifies. He will be the third one to leave the family. It will be hard to leave the people he loves behind – but it’s for a good cause. He knows it. The earth is starving for minerals. Without the Resistance: earth will die.
But the universe is big. Full of, unknown things...
Part one out on Amazon: US / UK
When mother said: “Don’t take stuff from strangers.” She was right.
But when you’re homeless, hungry, and cold, willpower goes out the window. This is the life of Jacob, a man that once had everything: the youth, a car, and even a girlfriend. But when the job market went sideways, he spiralled from everything to nothing. He now begs for money on streets to keep himself alive.
Then somebody appeared, not to give him change for food, but something else. Something that promised a hell of a good night.
