by JK Accinni
“Gram, you sick?”
“Want some water, Lorna?” Maryann held a jug out to her with a glass in her hand.
She reached for a chair, sinking down, her head spinning as white noise took over her mind, paralyzing her. Gripping the glass from Maryann, she held tightly with both hands, fearful her trembling would betray her to Seth. Oh my God, please help me.
“Lorna, you really don’t look good. What’s wrong?” Seth knelt in front of her, feeling her forehead, which sent Lorna back to the sink to dry heave, her stomach completely empty. She brushed surreptitiously at the tears forming in her eyes as her fear manifested itself, and prayed that Seth wouldn’t notice.
“I just need to lie down,” she whispered. “I feel a bit feverish. Girls, why don’t you come with me, you can start your baths.”
Seth rose, placing his hand on Suzy’s shoulder. “I’ll come too.”
Lorna whirled, her hand shaking. “I think we can handle this alone.” Her whole body shook, forcing her to sit again.
Seth grabbed her under her arms. “No, I insist. Let me help you.” She threw a silent panicked plea at Maryann, mouthing the word run. She watched Maryann glance at Jen, confusion across her face, as she felt Seth aggressively guide her to the hallway and down to the master bedroom, the girls trailing behind. Suzy tried to wiggle her way between them.
“I want my Gram. Gram, hold my hand, please Gram?”
“It’s okay, baby. Gram’s fine. Okay, Seth, I can take it from here.”
Unexpectedly, Seth escorted her to the master bath. “Here, Suzy, you stay with your gram. Jen, you can come in here.” As the girls funneled into the bathroom with puzzlement clear in their eyes, Seth grabbed hold of Maryann, steering her back out to the bedroom. “Not you, my dear, I can use some help.”
Lorna’s heart tripped madly. “No, you leave her here.”
Seth stood eye to eye with Lorna, neither blinking. Grabbing Jen he faced Lorna again. “Which one?”
She blinked, not understanding. He screamed at the top of his lungs, face turning purple, enunciating carefully.
“Which . . . one?” Lorna thought she would pass out. Please Lord, get us out of here. She made a quiet mewing sound, her face pleading as she held tight to Jen, who cried for her mama. Seth smiled with triumph.
“I thought so.” He pushed Maryann back across the master bed, rushing forward to punch Lorna squarely in the face, forcing her and Jen back to the bathroom. Blood spurted out of her broken nose as she heard the astonishing sound of a hammer as Seth drove nails into the bathroom door, sealing them inside. Suzy and Jen stood rooted to the spot as they watched with silent tears, the blood gushing from their gram’s nose.
Lorna grabbed for a towel, gathering the girls in her arms, as they heard Maryann scream from the bedroom. They huddled down on the floor, the girls holding their ears as they tried to block out the banging and screams that Lorna prayed for Maryann’s sake would end swiftly.
*
Maryann lay stunned, face down on the bed. She could feel Seth wrap something around her left arm fastening it to the bedpost, forcing her to flip over or risk injury.
“I’m so glad it was you. I can tell you’ll be more fun. She gave you up pretty easy didn’t she?”
Maryann couldn’t make her mouth work, fright stealing her voice. From out of nowhere came Seth’s hand, gathering up her dark hair and yanking her head up off the bed. She screamed. He slapped her in the face; she screamed again. Reaching down he grabbed the front of her dirty shirt, ripping it down the front to expose her braless young chest.
Maryann sobbed. “Noooo, please, why are you doing this? We’ve been nice to you.” She watched his blue eyes dance as he eyed her quivering breasts.
“Maryann, this is just another chance for you to be nice. And I’m the guy that’s going to show you how.” He suddenly thrust his lips down on hers, cutting off her breath. His hands were everywhere; kneading her breasts, trying to pull off her pants. She tried desperately to prevent his hands from gaining traction, but she had only one arm to work with.
“Stop it right now.” He stood up from the bed and slammed his hand on the nightstand. His eyes met hers and he smiled. “I’m going to make sure you like it baby, don’t you worry.” He pulled off her shoes and her pants from the bottom of the bed. She was helpless to stop him.
She could see him as he removed his clothes, his erection bursting from his underwear. He suddenly ran his hand up her legs to her crotch, following slowly with his tongue. She fought the desire to pee as he slobbered in her groin. She held her breath as he suddenly stopped to peer up at her.
“If you aren’t going to play, Maryann, I’m going to have to change the rules.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Please let me go. I haven’t done anything to hurt you. Why?” She began to sob louder. “I don’t understand.”
From out of nowhere his fist landed on her cheek. Her eyes slipped back in their sockets as she tried to push the stars away.
When the pain came from the rape, it felt hot—like a poker—but far away. He thrust and thrust, grunting like an animal, disgusting her. Her mind drifted as his fist came down on her face again yanking her back to feel the pain in all its wicked viciousness.
“I told you, little bitch. I’m forced to change the rules now. See what you made me do?” She felt a new stab of pain then a rush of agony. She opened her eyes to see him standing over her with a bloody knife in his hand. Where did that come from? His erection bobbed as if mocking her.
“You’re a lousy lay, you know? Can’t even get a man off properly, can you? Never had a real man before, did you?” His face moved so close to hers she could smell his sour breath.
“Doesn’t matter now, there’s new rules in play. You won’t like this, Maryann, but you had your chance. I’m very fair. I like to give the ladies a chance first. But they always fail me,” he shouted in her face, spittle from his lips reaching out to remind her of her helplessness.
Maryann had no idea how long Seth’s mad behavior continued as she vacillated from confusion to terror. She knew from the agony all over her body that it must have been hours. She could feel the bedcovers soak up the blood from her many wounds as she regained consciousness from time to time.
She woke once to find the body of a young boy in the bed with her, his arms removed and, to her astonishment, lying on her torso. Sweet waves of unconsciousness claimed her once again.
It must have been hours later when she felt water on her face return her to her vile reality. Seth stood at the bathroom door, his face sweaty with dull, glazed eyes, but fully dressed. She tried to open her mouth but found only agony. Blood bubbles formed as she attempted to talk. Her mouth surged with blood as she weakened. A tear managed to make its way down her cheek.
She watched as Seth tore the nails out of the door caging the other women inside. She heard screams as he disappeared inside, then a sudden silence. More tears ran down her face as she knew how unaware they were of the fate awaiting them. She heard shuffling at the bathroom door but failed to find the strength to move her head to look.
As Lorna and the girls skirted the bed like zombies, Maryann watched the horrified pinched expressions on the faces of Suzy and Jen.
Then Lorna appeared with her face gray and full of shock . . . and a little something else. Was it shame? Relief? Oh . . . yeah, Seth wanted Lorna to pick. She remembered now. Guilt.
Blood bubbled up again as a bitter breath made its way out her mouth. It was the last breath before she slipped back into the miraculous land where pain failed to follow, unable to hear the two words whispered as Lorna shuffled past . . . softly . . . tenderly . . . ashamed.
“Forgive me.”
Chapter 17
Morning announced itself slowly with the phantom lights of the Hive rising like the steadfast dawn now fated to become an abstract memory. The group roused just as slowly, most unwilling to fully wake to face the extrins
ic reality of their new existence.
Tiny Teddy, Chloe’s obstreperous monkey dog, sat on her chest, eyes riveted and focused on Chloe’s every twitch, waiting for her to awaken and fuss over his needs.
She finally woke, Scotty’s birthday gift slipping down to tangle in her hair, the gold coin glinting as she pulled herself together for the next day. She followed the others as they gathered in the antechamber.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I feel fantastic.” Cobby raised his hands over his head, stretching and doing a squat.
“Damn, I gotta agree with ya there.” Clyde yawned, watching as Johno and his keepers slapped one another playfully on the back. Peter just watched, saying nothing. Dezi sauntered around the room flexing his scrawny arms, obviously expecting comments.
“Well, well, how ‘bout it, ladies?” He winked in their direction. “I’m offering my services if any of you babes have trouble sleeping.”
Crystal laughed. “Why do you think we slept so well, Dezi? You were putting us to sleep last night.” Everyone laughed, taking turns in the outhouse and planning swims in their dazzling bathing cave.
Bonnie and Emma shyly approached Chloe, offering to help her walk the dogs. Chloe turned to Billy and Tucker.
“Would you guys like to come with us? We can look for a regular spot for the dogs to go.” They happily agreed, leaving the room with the girls, the German shepherd and Honda the poodle trotting behind. Kenya approached Ginger Mae,
“Morning, chicky.” She leaned over to rub Daisy’s arm affectionately. “Why don’t you let me introduce her to some of the animals from the sanctuary? Not the cats—the turtles or the goats, maybe the bird. It might give her a sense of purpose.”
Ginger Mae nodded, watching them as they left with Crystal and her potbelly pig. She quickly noticed Mama Diaz checking everyone out.
“Has anyone noticed a complete change of attitude this morning? I feel great, and happy.” She paused, waiting to get their attention. “Do you all remember what’s happening above us? Millions are dying. How can we feel this way? It’s not normal.”
Guilty eyes cast themselves down, faces drawn as they remembered the carnage taking place above them.
At that moment, Netty entered the room, her golden glow and the sparkle from her eyes preceding her. She stood quietly, her soft cotton wrap allowing her wings and tail to move freely as her delicate bare feet stopped at the door.
“Good morning, everyone. I hope you are all anxious to join us for breakfast. Wil needs to cover a few items with you then we will leave you to your own devices. We have a few more supplies to dispense. Perhaps you can choose a few to handle the supply closet. I think you will need three strong men. After breakfast you will leave with my husband. I also need to know who wants to work in the kitchen with me until we construct one for your own use.”
As Netty spoke, the group walking the dogs returned, Kenya and Daisy bringing up the rear.
Netty clapped her hands and the refreshed but wary group followed her out to the main corridor where she led them up the incline from last night that led to an opening from which aromatic smells wafted. The crowd started as they heard the muffled roar of a lion, followed by a barrage of elephant trumpets.
Netty reached out to restrain Johno and his men. “Don’t worry, Johno. They are fine, just a territorial dispute. The cats are unable to harm another animal—or human for that matter—while they are in the Hive.”
From the back of the crowd came a disdainful chuff. Everyone turned, reminded of the ever-present Caesar as he slapped his powerful paw on the hard, smooth stone of the cavern floor, his laser eyes watchfully focused on Scotty, Chloe and the dogs as if to dispute Netty’s words.
Scotty spoke up. “Oh, don’t worry about Caesar, Echo says he’s harmless.”
He turned to Caesar, approaching softly to give him a tentative pat on his magnificent head.
“See?” Breathing more easily, the group entered Netty and Wil’s kitchen, Caesar plopping down outside the entrance.
As the group funneled in, they stood dumbfounded at the scene in front of them.
The cavern was much smaller than any of the previous spaces, the ceiling only about ten feet high. The walls featured the ever-present thick undulating membrane, yet two of the walls sported iron bars with wide metal rungs from which hung intricate and colorful handmade quilts, clearly priceless antiques. Rag rugs of all shapes and sizes with coordinated colors hugged the bare floor. But most surprising was the fireplace that burned brightly, flames dancing flirtatiously, enticing the group closer as the aroma wafting from the huge iron pot hanging from an iron arm bubbled its spicy brew.
A bed of what appeared to be cloth stuffed with straw sat to the side of the fireplace with Netty’s golden creature and his kitten cuddled up, watching them solemnly.
The furniture in the cozy room consisted of several rocking chairs and three plank tables with benches tucked underneath. A smaller intimate table for four was to the side of the room where Netty’s kitchen worktable sat with piles of the green crusty pods and smaller pieces of sliced peaches, their smell seductive. All the furniture appeared old, handmade and covered with layers of hand-rubbed patina. The vintage room, clearly a step out of time, looked well lived in and eminently suited their two perplexing benefactors.
Their attention suddenly shifted to two resplendent pit bulls that stood at attention in one corner of the room; Netty’s baking ovens hidden in the corner with them. Ears at attention, their tails wagged ominously as Echo and his tiny white puppy tottered toward them. Scotty lunged forward, scooping the hapless buddies into his arms and Echo, struggling in his arms, wriggled to be free.
“Brother Scotty, put me down. Do you not know these dogs?”
Netty stepped forward, tears in her golden eyes. She swept Echo and puppy Barney away from Scotty to deposit them on the rug in front of the pit bulls, who knelt in front of Echo with bowed heads, their strong muscled bodies quavering. They looked up at Scotty and made tiny crawling gestures toward him. Netty’s musical voice rang out. “Do you recognize anything hanging from the mantel?”
The crowd turned to the mantel. The only incongruous item was a large sledgehammer bolted to the stones along the right wall of the fireplace. Scotty stared, his memory searching, picking at a dawning comprehension.
“No . . . it can’t be.” He searched Netty’s eyes for the truth, understanding as she wiped away the tears. Scotty walked deliberately to the pit bulls as Echo wound her arms around each of them.
“We did this, Brother Scotty. The Womb is pleased with us. We saved them. They would have died.”
“But I saw them die. I watched the sick bastard bust their skulls.” Scotty looked into the eyes of the sweet, happy creatures that intently engaged his attention. He felt them try to communicate their thanks to him. How did they know?
“They know much, Brother Scotty, they were saved by the Womb.”
“These are the dogs we watched get killed. How can they be alive now?” Scotty’s nose crinkled his puzzlement.
“King . . . Queenie.” The dogs rose and padded over to Wil where they jumped up on their hind legs, bracing themselves on his chest. Wil bent to hug them.
“Don’t you understand? When it comes to creating life, there is nothing the Womb cannot do—including the salvation of the spirit. As long as the rescue is made in a timely fashion. These dogs were the only two that could be saved from the butchers in the dogfighting ring the night you and Echo went to the woods.”
Wil glanced at the fireplace. “We keep that sledgehammer to remind us never to forget the brutality of man. It makes our mission easier whenever we get depressed about the new future of this planet.” Wil’s bitter tone did not go unnoticed.
“Gee, dude, a sledgehammer? Isn’t that a little extreme?”
Billy Susseman, the red-headed trucker, shook his head as he stroked his poodle. Wil turned on him unexpectedly.
“Not extreme enough.” Bitterness intensified as Wil’s expression hardened. “We have no love lost for men of this planet. Sick greedy evilness runs through all of us. Some control it better than others. Pity the victims, and I don’t mean just the creatures.”
Wil’s face twisted with hate. As Wil’s outburst shocked the crowd, King and Queenie whined, sending Netty to Wil’s side and Baby shuffling to him for comfort. They stood huddled as a united family, clearly bereaved over something. Netty’s arms embraced him as Wil scooped up Baby, holding him close.
As the crowd grew silent at the display of emotion, Netty broke away to busy herself in the kitchen. Wil turned to face the crowd with a sigh, rubbing his hand across his glowing eyes.
“Please forgive me. It’s been a mighty long time since we . . . died. I have trouble forgetting. Thank the Womb for our salvation.”
“Can you tell us what you mean about the new future of the planet?” The question came from one of the new truckers, the one with the German shepherd who up until this point had remained in the background just taking it all in.
Wil turned to him. “And who are you, young man?”
“My name is Tucker. Tucker the trucker, and this here is my boy, Fire. He goes everywhere with me.” Tucker patted his large German shepherd while his suspicious eyes stayed tethered to Wil, who seemed to dismiss him, suddenly staring into the distance, apparently lost in the vicious memories of his past.
Shaking his head, Wil grimaced at the shocked faces before him. “Sometime, perhaps, we will tell you our story. And I will get to your questions later, young man. But for now, I think it is time to take our seats to enjoy Netty’s breakfast. Shall we?”
He extended his arm to point the way, inviting everyone to find seats at the large farmhouse tables. As everyone funneled to the tables in anticipation of a hearty meal, Netty called from the kitchen, dispelling the lingering tension from Wil’s revelation and heading off any further questions of the Earth’s future.
