Che was still nude, but it was no longer his own naked form that stood before Christopher. Che had skinned one of the undead and was now wearing his skin as a makeshift suit. At first glance, it was hard to tell where Che’s naked body ended and the other set of skin began, but the closer he looked, it was easy to see how Che had constructed it, most likely out of several different walkers.
Christopher thought it made him look bad ass, and he immediately wanted one for himself. No matter what anyone said, this end of the world shit was going to be a lot of fun, and his mind began to drift to which of his friends back at school he thought he would ‘fit’ best.
Che stepped forward and gave Christopher a warm embrace.
“Long time, my friend.”
“Long time indeed.”
Che walked with purpose over to Riley, who was still struggling to free himself.
Che looked carefully at Riley, examining his neck for a particular birthmark. Satisfied with what he saw, Che spit in Riley’s face, then picked up a hammer and handed it to Christopher.
“Let’s get this done. We don’t have a lot of time.
Pain.
Throbbing pain.
Burning sensation.
Smelling salts.
Cooper opened his eyes to find himself staring into the face of Ilsa. He tries to raise his hands to his face, but found that he couldn’t. Is the poison affecting his ability to move? It had to be some sort of paralysis agent. Cooper’s head began to clear a bit more, and he realized he was simply duct taped to the old wheelchair he kept in the foyer closet.
“Et tu?” he managed to get out with small smile.
Ilsa smiled right back at him.
“It was fun while it lasted.”
Cooper thought maybe she even meant it.
“Look,” William said, interrupting their moment. “I’m not going to bullshit you. I don’t really give a fuck what you know or don’t know about this whole end of the world thing. But I am going to torture you anyway. Not to get tactical information because we obviously have all the tactical information we need. No, old friend, quite simply, at this point, it’s sort of like an eye-for-an-eye sort of thing. I’m sure you understand. “
William picked up the roll of duct tape from the table and tore off a large piece, which he then used to tape Cooper’s mouth shut.
“Tell me, Cooper, have you ever seen Reservoir Dogs?”
Cooper shook his head.
William put his boot up on Cooper’s lap and proceeded to pull out a large, straight-edge razor.
“Well, that really sucks. Because this would be a lot more fun for both of us if you knew the reference.”
William began to shuffle and dance back and forth to imaginary music.
“Still nothing?”
Cooper shook his head again.
“Maybe this will help.” William lunged forward, slashing the side of Cooper’s face and cutting him deep. Blood began to flow, and Cooper let out a muffled scream of pain.
Ilsa climbed the stairs and gazed out the window. She couldn’t watch this part.
William climbed onto Cooper’s lap and began to hack away at his ear with the razor. He cut slowly so that Cooper has time to feel each motion of the blade.
William held the ear up to his mouth and whispered, “Can you hear me now?”
William looked directly at Cooper. “Did you hear that?” He laughed callously and offered the ear to the still moaning Cooper.
“Here, you want this for one of your necklaces? No? Well then, maybe I’ll keep it for myself. I’ve always wanted a necklace like yours.” William tossed the ear onto the floor and ripped the tape off Cooper’s mouth.
“You got something to say now, bitch!” William yells.
“Yes, I think I remember that film now. Didn’t it win Sundance?”
Ilsa couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
William glared at her then turned his attention back to Cooper.
“Well, I am glad you still have your sense of humor. I’ll try not to cut into that too much. So Cooper, my friend here thinks that I am here for your treasure. If you tell me where it is, I will make this quicker for you.”
“I noticed you said quicker, not easier.” Cooper was unafraid, and his calm voice reflected that.
It irritated William.
“Well, I could lie to you, but I don’t see much sense in that anymore. Not at this point anyway. Besides…”
William was cut off by the crackle and static of a handheld radio.
“Echo base, this is Rogue Two. The Chair is against the wall. Repeat. The Chair is against the wall. Over.”
Even sitting duct-taped to the wheelchair, the side of his head bleeding from the large wound on the side of his head where his ear had once been, Cooper could not help but smile. The chair was against the wall. There was nothing that could stop it now. Che and Christopher could finish this on their own if they had to.
The smile on Cooper’s face infuriated William.
“What is he talking about?!” William yelled, getting right into Cooper’s face and pushing the straight edge into one of Cooper’s nostrils, pressing with firm outward pressure, the blade easily cutting through the soft cartilage of his nose.
Cooper winced in pain, but the smile never disappeared.
“It’s his grandson. He arrived earlier with another kid.” Ilsa offered, but William ignored her and remained focused on Cooper.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, then I am going to cut off your tongue and roll you out on the porch to be eaten by those things. So, for the last time, Dr. Cooper, what is he talking about?”
Cooper’s grin grew even bigger. “Sorry, Billy, but that information is need-to-know. And I’m afraid you just don’t have the clearance for that yet.”
William glared at him for a moment, then turned his attention back to Ilsa, who continued staring out the landing window.
“What’s going on out there?”
“It looks like quite a few of those things have congregated around the barn.”
William picked up the radio, turning it over in his hand.
“That’s where whoever is on the other end of this is then. This radio is nothing more than a kid’s toy. It has a very limited range.”
“Well, then that settles it. There is no way those two kids are getting out of that barn alive. There are already too many of them for that.”
“Yeah, that’s sort of the point.” Cooper says, reminding William that they have unresolved business.
“Enough of the games! Where is it?!”
“I doubt it’s the sort of treasure you are expecting.”
“I’m not talking about your treasure and you fucking know it.”
Cooper stared blankly up at him.
William leaned in and whispered in Cooper’s ear. There was no need for Ilsa to hear what he was about to say.
Cooper’s face went pale with shock.
“Who are you?” Cooper managed to ask after some time.
“Who I am is completely irrelevant. Isn’t that what you said earlier? When you had me chained to your fireplace? You remember, right before you took me to the attic and tortured me.”
“It appears I may have misspoken. There could be some relevance I previously missed.”
Sarcastic bastard to the end, William thought. He had to respect. Might as well tell him the truth. Like he had said earlier, no sense lying at this point.
“My name is William. William Riley.”
“Son of Levi and Devon Williams?”
“The one and the same. How’s that for relevance?”
“I should have seen it before. The slight scar there on your lip. It’s obvious now that you mention it. You look a lot older since I saw you last.”
“Look who’s talking, old man.”
“Wait a second,” Ilsa interrupted. “You two know each other?”
“Well, until tonight, we had never really met,” Cooper replied.
“That’s not enti
rely true. We met once before, Dr. Cooper.”
“I think I would remember that. I have waited a long time to meet you.”
“It was a long time ago, and you were heavily medicated at the time.”
“Well, I don’t remember it. But I am glad to finally have the opportunity to meet you.”
“Really, Dr. Cooper? Are you really glad to meet me? And is this really how you wanted that meeting to go? After all of those nights that you must have lain in bed awake, not able to sleep? Not able to think? Lying there only able to plot your revenge. Only able to plot your revenge against me for what I did to your family.”
“Just exactly how do the two of you know each other?” Ilsa demanded, coming down the stairs. William turned to her, and with a vicious voice replied, “Sorry honey, as people here are so fond of saying, that information is on a need-to-know basis.”
It was dark in the barn, but Riley knew what was about to happen. He was about to get raped. That surfer boy from school had lured him to the farmhouse on the pretense of finding his parents, but it was a trap. And now, here he was strung up like a fish before some naked man and the kid everyone at school suspected was a fag.
Riley began to cry, but stopped himself. It was going to happen, he was certain of that. But he would not make it easy for them.
The surfer boy from school was approaching him slowly, the naked man staying back in the shadows. Probably wanted to watch.
Something was in the boy’s hand.
What is that? Was it some sort of dildo?
Shit.
Riley pissed himself with fear when he realized what was actually going on.
This wasn’t going to be a rape; this was going to be an execution.
The boy was carrying a hammer.
Riley began to scream and plead the best he could, but the rag stuffed in his mouth prevented him from any real attempt at communication with his classmate.
Christopher paused when he saw Riley wet his pants. It had never occurred to him that no matter how just they were in their actions, that Riley would be scared and confused. But, of course, he would. This was a preemptive strike. The only crime he had committed was being born to the wrong parents at the wrong time in history. Oh well, not like this was the first time in the history of mankind that something like that had ever happened. But still, he could not help but feel a little sorry for his classmate now that the actual time had come. It was Che’s voice that brought him back to the task at hand.
“It is clear that she betrayed him. We always knew that was a possibility. I’m sorry Topher, but now we know. Now we know the truth about it. So let’s finish this. Take the direct route back to the mineshaft. I won’t be far behind you.”
Christopher nodded, then picked up a large piece of metal rebar off of the floor of the barn. He got in front of Riley and prepared to drive the large piece of metal into his hands, effectively nailing him to the post he had been hanging from, but once in place, the height Riley was hanging at, put him face to face, eye to eye with Christopher.
He hesitated, giving Riley a chance to struggle, making it impossible for him to accomplish it alone.
In one swift motion, Che came forward and grabbed Riley’s hair, smashing him against the post, not knocking him unconscious, but taking most all of the fight out of him.
“Finish him!”
Christopher drove the rebar into the wrists of Riley, blood splashing into his face. It was warm, salty. It tasted like iron. It was ironic. Christopher grinned.
Riley let out a scream. Blood was soaking through the rag in his mouth. He had probably bit his own tongue off. Oh well. Christopher hoped he would choke on it and stop screaming.
Christopher hit the rebar spike several more times, driving it deeper into the wooden post until he was satisfied it was secure. He then turned his attention to his feet. By nailing Riley’s feet to the post as well, it would reduce the stress on the wrists and prevent them from breaking out. The rope would be left as a precaution.
With every swing of the hammer and connection of steel on steel, Riley let out another scream. Christopher found it more and more satisfying.
Che found a piece of cardboard in the barn, and used Riley’s blood to write a message on it.
“Hand me the hammer.”
Christopher handed the hammer to Che, who took his sign and nailed it to the post above Riley’s head.
Here is William, King of the Fools.
Christopher took his knife, and in a swift motion cut one of Riley’s ears off, then punctured his stomach with the blade. It was a small wound. It would take some time for the boy to die.
Exactly the way Grandpa would have wanted it to be.
Christopher discarded the ear on the dirt floor and turned to Che;
“I’m ready,” he said as he prepared to open the barn door.
Che took a bow and arrow set down from the wall of the barn and drew an arrow back, then nodded to Christopher, who opened the door swiftly, taking protection behind it as Che unleashed arrow after arrow, one right on target after another, until there were no more of the things in the immediate vicinity. It would do nothing to stop them, but it would slow them down long enough for them to make their escape.
The two young men looked at each other, and gave a slight nod. They both knew there was a chance that they would never see each other again. But it went unsaid.
They paused briefly to both look back at the crucified boy they left hanging half-alive in the barn.
Was it worth it?
Was all this really worth that?
They both smile.
Of course it was.
And even if it wasn’t, it sure was a lot of fun.
Without a goodbye, they ran in opposite directions in the night. Time was critical, and each had their own mission and agenda to accomplish.
…
Riley, in pain and bleeding, could only watch with horror as they ran off into the darkness leaving the barn door open. With each bolt of lightning, the darkness around the barn was illuminated for a brief moment.
And all Riley could see in the distance were those things out there moving…
Moving towards the barn.
And Riley now knew this was it.
He began to pray.
He wasn’t even sure to whom.
“I asked you a question! How the fuck do the two of you know each other? Answer me, you son-of-a-bitch!” Ilsa was almost screaming at William.
“I’m pretty sure she’s talking to you,” Cooper sarcastically tossed in. And that, not Ilsa’s relentless nagging, was the final straw for William, but he directed his wrath at Ilsa anyway.
“Enough! I said shut the fuck up. So now, you can shut your fucking cunt mouth, or I will come over and shut it for you. This does not involve you.”
Ilsa was momentarily shocked by his language, but quickly regained her composure and cool.
“Tell me, William, or I am calling my backup.”
“No, you’re not. The Agency doesn’t even know you’re here. And you know it.”
“Yes, they do.”
“No, they don’t. The Agency has had me hunting this piece of shit for longer than I care to admit. If they knew he was here, he’d be dead. The U.S. Marshals are the ones hiding him from the Agency, you stupid bitch. You’re nothing more than a money-grubbing whore who is here for his cash. Admit it.”
Ilsa stared at him, so William continued to rant at her.
“You never ran his name in the Agency database, or it would have flagged a million times over. I could have fucking ended this whole thing before it even started. How long have you been fucking him for cash? How long ago could we have ended this?”
Ilsa said nothing.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought.” William looked at her with disgust.
“I told you the truth, Billy. Mostly. I was in this shit-hole strip club where he was, only I was attempting to contact another target. The rest is true. The Agency didn’t assig
n him to me; he just came up to me at the bar and propositioned me. I played along with at first because I was amused, and bored. But honestly, the money was good. So I figured, why not? That’s all. I swear, Billy.”
“For seven months?” William asked incredulously.
“The money was really, really good.”
“He’s a forger. He can overpay you because he prints the money in his basement.”
Ilsa glared at Cooper.
Cooper sheepishly smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
“Treasury was going to send a team to pick him up, but the U.S. Marshals office intercepted the warrant. That’s how the Agency flagged it. There aren’t too many forgers in Witness Protection. Not ones with his skill. Once his fake money started circulating, it was only a matter of time before we found him. So in a way, I suppose I should be thanking you for being a whore.”
Ilsa ignored William’s last remark and spoke directly to Cooper.
“So you don’t have a treasure?”
“Not in the sense that you are thinking, no.” Cooper answered.
“Then in what sense?”
“See for yourself. It’s right upstairs in the bedroom.”
Ilsa looked at William for permission. He nodded. Ilsa returned a moment later, a look of confusion mixed with anger on her face.
“Are you for real? That’s your treasure?”
William stepped in before Cooper could answer.
“This is so far above your pay grade, you can’t even begin to comprehend what is going on here. Now get the fuck out of this house before I kill you.”
Ilsa blinked.
“Billy….”
William drew his pistol from his holster and pointed it directly at the baby in Ilsa’s stomach.
“I said, don’t call me Billy. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and kill you just for the fun of it. For old time’s sake.”
“Dressed like this?” She knew she wouldn’t last long out there barefoot in an evening gown.
William shifted his aim from her belly to her face. She got the message.
Ilsa pulled herself together quickly, and walked as dignified as she could, given the situation, down the stairs, pausing just briefly at the front door before turning the handle and walking out.
Genesis Page 8
