The knocks on the door went unanswered. Although the deep scratches on the outside of the door did not go unnoticed by the medicine man nor the elders.
They made their way around to the back following a trail of wolf tracks and one set of human tracks; barefoot at that.
They saw the busted glass on the door and made their way carefully across the deck and pulled up short when they surveyed the scene.
Billy felt a mixture of sadness, anger, and disgust at the sight of Johnny Soaring Eagle laying naked on the kitchen floor in a puddle of blood wrapped in a wolf skin. Sadness at the life lost and wasted. Disgust and anger at the trouble Johnny had caused and the sorrow he had brought on these good people. And felt a deep sadness for the friend he had watched grow up into a good man, who hurt no one and loved the land and had known so much sadness in his life. Cody was a tamarack standing tall and strong against everything the great spirit and earth could send against him until his day came when he too must return to the earth. Jessi was a good woman and he would make sure she would be remembered, honored, and mourned in the tribe as one of their own had perpetrated this curse upon the land and his heart went out the young girls he had watched grow up and knew losing their mother would leave a hole in their lives he hoped they could overcome.
Billy and two of the elders began the death chant, praying for Jessi’s spirit and for the spirits who grieved for her. They didn’t bother chanting for Johnny Soaring Eagle his fate had been decided before. He would be ceremonially forgotten by the tribe for the evil he did and his name would never be uttered again.
The third elder fished a cell phone from his pocket and called the police.
Ten days later:
Cody leaned against the truck looking up at the same windswept hill his father, mother and now his beloved Jessi lay in the eternal silence of the grave. His heart and his mind were broken with the loss of his wife and the guilt he carried. His mind knew it was an accident, but it fought against himself with a thousand what if scenarios every second of the day. The death had been ruled an accident, but that did little to dull the guilt he would take with him to the grave. Luckily the girls didn’t seem to harbor any hatred or blame toward him.
He relived her death every time he closed his eyes. What he did not see in the real he saw in his nightmares. He saw himself pull the trigger and the bullet hitting her. He felt like he would have the nightmares until the day he died and laid to rest next to her on the hill.
His oldest daughter had reluctantly returned to college and Becca had tearfully begged him to not send her back to school so soon. Cody knew from his own bitter experience it was important for both of them to get back into as normal of a routine as possible. She had told him she hated him at first and then apologized before heading out to the bus. Cody had wept at the loneliness he felt when the bus pulled away. He wasn’t sure how he would survive but like his father when his mother had passed at such an early age he would for the sake of his girls.
The wolves had returned to the mountains and back their rightful place. They stayed away from man and went about the things that wolves do. Cody tried not to hate them but there were so many questions he still had. So many details and answers he needed. Maybe if he understood it would help with the pain? Billy had tried to explain it to him but his mind wasn’t ready and Billy had patiently told him he would know when it was time to hear and to let him know.
Cody turned back to the hill again. Like it or not, he had work to do, and it was good to keep busy. The wind changed directions and Cody could faintly hear Billy up on the hill next to Jessi’s freshly dug grave chanting for her soul. For a second he was taken back to when Billy had done the same thing for his mother, and for his father so many years ago.
As Cody listened, the wolves added their sorrowful voices.
MOMMA MAY I
“James!” She yelled halting the boy in his tracks.
“Yes momma,” he stammered unsure as to what he did this time.
She stalked down the hall way toward him angrily. “Did you use sugar this morning for your cereal?” She demanded.
Oh know not again. “Y-yes ma’am,” James answered.
A hand flashed toward his face so fast he could hardly blink, the power and the animosity so powerful that it knocked him to the floor. His cheek burned, he knew without looking a hand print would be clearly visible already.
He scrambled to his feet doing his best to not cry as that always made things worse. She stood there towering over him, drunk, wearing only a bath robe that was never tied, revealing her body to her son, heavy breasts heaving with each ragged angry breath.
He tried not to stare at the breast before him but how could he not, they were the only thing they had in common anymore.
“Eyes up here!” She shouted at him, jabbing a finger toward her eyes. “You disgusting little pervert, looking at your mother,” she huffed closing her robe but still not tying it, of course it fell back open. “What did I tell you about the sugar?” She demanded.
“Stay out.” He muttered.
“Why do I want you to stay out of the sugar James?” She demanded.
“Because I’m fat.” He said dejectedly not able to meet her gaze but choosing to look down at the floor.
“And what will happen James?” She sneered hatefully.
He didn’t want to answer. Why did she have to be so mean?
“Answer me you little bastard!” She screamed while slapping him again.
“Because I’ll get fatter and get tits.” He sobbed.
“That’s right you’re far too ugly to be a girl, or maybe we should just call you Jane instead? Put you in a dress and let the whole world see your big floppy tits?” She shouted, spit flying, and her own tits flopping about.
“No momma, please no,” James sobbed.
“You are worthless just like your father. He wasn’t much of a man either. You disgust me crying like that for heaven’s sake, you’re twelve years old.” With open disgust and anger in her eyes. “Go put your dress and you can be mommy’s little bitch!”
“Oh momma please don’t make me, I’m so…”
Again the hand flew out. James’s flesh stung, but the damage to his psyche was already done.
“Go!” She screamed pointing at toward his room.
James shuffled to his room to scared to refuse. He sobbed as he undressed, she followed him into the room, robe still open, fluttering behind her like a cape for a super hero turned bat shit crazy.
“Hurry up momma’s little bitch!” she screamed grabbing him by the hair and throwing him on the bed ripping the rest of his clothes off. He lay there naked before her trying to cover himself but he could see the lust in her eyes.
After what seemed like forever she snapped back to the present stalking to the closet, and pulling out a flower print dress.
“Put your panties on Jane, I will not have you prancing around this house like a slut without panties!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.
“But you don’t wear them mom?” James asked not realizing that he just called her a slut by her own definition.
“Why you little bastard!” She screamed reaching for the belt on the dresser.
“No momma please no, I didn’t mean it.”
But his words had no effect on his mother as she continued to strike him over and over on his naked flesh until she collapsed onto the bed gasping for air next to James her robe lost completely in the flurry of aggression.
“Momma I’m sorry I’m no good,” James said wiping the tears from his eyes. His body covered with belt shaped welts. He snuggled into her. She didn’t move ignoring his advances.
“Momma may I?” When she didn’t respond he lowered his mouth to her breast, sucking and working the nipple in his mouth. She let out as little moan; she had taught him well over the years. His hand slid down her belly, between her legs finding her secret place she parted her legs wider and pulled his head to her breast. James could feel himself thicken. He woul
d show momma that he was a man, no matter how his father had hurt her.
Dr. Logan closed the journal and sat quietly for a moment collecting his thoughts. He looked at the young man seated before him, strapped to the heavy chair bolted to the floor, the straight jacket making him look bigger than he really was, but still he was a big guy and powerful too as many of the insane were. He felt his analytical mind wonder with all his thoughts and took a deep breath to clear his mind.
“James I’m sorry, of course, you went through these kinds of situations with your mother. It must have affected you very deeply. I won’t patronize you; I can’t imagine how that might make you feel toward your mother.” Logan said pushing his glasses back on his nose out of habit.
“What do you mean doc?” James asked confused. “I loved my mom, she was my entire world.”
Dr. Logan leaned forward. “James you killed your mother, thirteen other women, and you had your mother’s corpse in your bed and...”
“It was in her bed.”
“What James?”
“Mom, she wasn’t in my bed, she was in her bed,” James said smugly.
“Ok fine James whose bed did you sleep in? Whose bed were you sleeping in when the police arrested you? Whose corpse were you snuggled up with when they found you James?” Logan asked exasperated.
“Just sayin Doc, wasn’t my bed.” James said looking smug as if he had won a major battle.
“So you’re saying the way your mother treated you had no effect on you? That it was not partially responsible for your hatred toward women and drove you to mutilate them?”
Nope, I was just lonely Doc, I miss momma…
NIGHT, NIGHT
"Up to bed sweetie let's go." Arlee said to little Kimmy.
"Awe mom, I don't wanna!" Kimmy exclaimed unhappily.
"Move it young lady!" Arlee said with mock sternness. She and Kimmy had a game
they played out each night at bed time, it was one of those rituals that had grown special to both of them.
Arlee watched her young daughter march up the stairs dutifully to begin the process for bed.
"I'll be right up baby, go ahead and brush your teeth."
"OK momma!" Kimmy replied as she disappeared up the stairs.
Arlee stood thinking of all the bad that had happened to them in the last couple of years since Kimmy’s dad had ran off. The two of them had pulled together, mother and daughter against the world and rebuilt a life together.
Arlee climbed up the stairs of the old home they rented in a poor section of town at the top of the stairs she stopped to look in on Kimmy as she stood on the little stool and carefully brushed her teeth.
“Almost done?”
“Yes momma!” Kimmy said though a mouth full of toothpaste foam as she sloppily brushed her teeth.
Tucked into bed Arlee read a bed time story, Kimmy’s favorite with the little kitten with white socks. When she was done Arlee kissed her daughter and walked toward the door.
“Momma wait” she said with fear in her voice.
“What Kimmy?” She asked unsure of the change in her daughter.
“Please don’t go and don’t turn out the light. I’m scared momma.” Kimmy whispered.
“Oh baby there is nothing to be scared of…”
“Momma they come out in the dark and they scare me.” Kimmy sniffled.
“Who comes out baby?” Arlee asked walking back to the bed sensing her daughter’s real fear even though in her mind it was just a child’s over active imagination.
“The monster’s mommy, they come from the closet and from under the bed, they talk all night long and they don’t let me sleep.”
“Honey, I promise there are no such things as ghost or monsters and there is nothing in your closet or under your bed, now go to sleep.” Arlee said bending down for one last kiss and walked out of the room before Kimmy could utter a word. She hated it, she desperately wanted to let Kimmy sleep in her room so she wouldn’t be scared but where would it end?
The next day Kimmy was quiet, she looked tired with dark circles under her eyes like she had stayed up too late. They got through the day the best they could, Arlee didn’t let Kimmy nap much throughout the day so she would sleep that night, hopefully her exhaustion would take over and her fears put to rest.
Bed time came and it was much the same as any night although Kimmy started to cry, Arlee just assumed it was because she was so tired and cranky. She led the little girl upstairs to take a bath and get ready for bed. The whole time doing her best to reassure her that there was nothing going to get her when the lights went out.
Kimmy refused to be consoled so Arlee tried to make a game of getting down on her knees and looking under the bed. “I don’t see any monsters under the bed!” Arlee exclaimed, but Kimmy still did not look convinced. She got up and went to the closet and flung the door open. “Nothing in the closet Kimmy, I think it’s safe to go to sleep tonight baby!” Arlee said in her most confident voice.
Arlee turned from the closet to face Kimmy and froze, the look on Kimmy’s face was one of horror.
Arlee stood still heart pounding afraid to move, suddenly she could see her breath. When did it get so cold? Something was close by, she could sense it but she could see nothing out of her peripheral vision.
“Kimmy honey, is there something behind mommy?” She asked, her voice cracking in fear.
Kimmy slowly shook her head as tears began to gently flow. Arlee steeled herself and turned quickly to both sides, on each side of her where dark masses looming over her. She began to turn to run but the two swallowed her tearing her soul from her body and her flesh from her bones.
Kimmy shrieked until she couldn’t scream anymore and passed out from the trauma her young mind had just witnessed in her home the one place that was supposed to be safe. These things were not supposed to happen, monsters, boogeymen and things that go bump in the night are not supposed to exist, they are not real and cannot kill your mother right before your eyes but yet, it happened.
The next morning Kimmy awoke on her bed, she lay there groggily trying to understand the images that were jumbled in her head. Maybe it had just been a dream? She sat up in the bed looking around. It had been no dream; she did not scream again, she was passed that now.
Kimmy slowly got out of the bed grimacing as the blood squished in the carpet as she stepped. She did her best to step over her mother as she left but her mother was literally all over the room, even at the young age of seven, Kimmy knew not to look around too much as she made her way to the stairs. She made her way to the kitchen leaving little bloody footprints as she went, she picked up the phone and called 911 just like teacher had told them to if there was ever an emergency or if someone was hurt.
“911 what’s your emergency?” a very bored sounded operator came one the line.
“My momma is dead.”
“Your momma is dead?”
“The monsters in my room killed momma, and tonight they are going to kill me.” Kimmy whispered to the stunned 911 operator.
Kimmy hung up the phone not wanting to talk anymore she went and sat on the couch, arms wrapped around her legs rocking. She smiled when she heard the sound of the sirens……
REALLY
Jeremy Blake sat silently on the couch as the thumping against the bedroom door continued nonstop as it had for the last three days. Jeremy was slowly going mad in a world that had exploded into chaos due to a virus that had turned some people into mindless zombies.
Not zombies in the literal sense of the dead returning from the grave like in the old Romero movies but zombies in the 28 Days Later type of scenario where the virus manifests as a kind of infection causing the victims to go crazy attacking others.
The talking heads on TV could not agree on what was happening. Some said it was a virus, some said it rabies and then there was the moral dilemma what kind of rights did these people have? When you killed one was it murder? Sure you were entitled to protect yourself and others but a
s usual there were the tree hugger types who were advocating for the rights of the “oppressed ragers” as they were called.
Jeremy sat eyes glued to the TV barely blinking, or aware of what was being said on the TV. He was tired, real tired. He hadn’t really slept since the outbreak and his wife came home from work with a bite wound. Yes, in stereotypical Hollywood fashion bites were the cause of transmission. Jeremy wished they had realized this before she had gone into Kyle’s room.
The bumps on the door continued as mother and child both tried to reach him, their rage unrelenting as they continued to get through the door to kill him. They were both uncoordinated shambling about unable to breach the door with the three-inch screws holding it closed.
Jeremy knew he needed to act. He was at his wits end, unable to sleep because of the state of his wife and son and, the constant bumping and danger if they were to make it out of the bedroom was driving him nuts in his exhausted state.
The question was what exactly should he do? He was devastated and very much wanted to open the door and embrace them one last time becoming as they were together forever but, rationality somehow prevailed through the murk of grief and exhaustion. He knew what he must do, he needed to set them free, they deserved that, and he needed the release to move on himself into a life without them and the new world outside of the home that was now burning.
He sat there for a while longer coming to terms with the horrible deed, that he felt compelled out of love, he had to commit. Finally he had a plan formulated in his mind. He wearily got up and headed for the master bedroom, stopping to look around at everything that reminded him of her, of their family. Unable to cry anymore, he too shambled much like a zombie to the closet coming out with the hammer he had set up on the shelf the last time he had helped Amanda hang pictures. He gripped it securely taking a few practice swings before he undertook the grisly task he knew he must.
Primrose and Brimstone Page 24
