No Room In Hell (Book 2): 400 Miles To Graceland

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No Room In Hell (Book 2): 400 Miles To Graceland Page 28

by William Schlichter


  “Young guys aren’t like that. They don’t want a woman in control.”

  “No, they think that whatever they did the last time is what works unless you help them out and they will keep doing it. Don’t nag. Guide.” Ethan slips her a box of condoms.

  “I couldn’t have had this conversation with my dad,” she says, stuffing the box in her pack.

  “I’m not old enough to be your father,” Ethan assures her.

  “You should follow some of your own advice,” Becky suggests. “Emily likes you a lot. Why not take her up on it?”

  “She’s fifteen.”

  “You’re sitting next to a twenty-year-old with her ta-tas hanging out.” Becky leans back showing off her flat chest with coffee-colored nipples. “She may not make it to seventeen. Two years is a long fucking time now. There’s no laws anymore.”

  “We’ve made laws. We live by laws.”

  “You have laws on rape. She’s willing. That’s not rape.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not, but I’ve a personal moral code.”

  Becky sighs. “Wow, women do encounter men who are still noble. Just the fact you won’t jump on her after she’s made it clear she’s so willing just makes you that much more attractive.”

  “Why don’t you go for a swim. Cool off. We’ll give Chad one more chance to fix the truck.”

  “You could go for a swim,” she suggests.

  “You could put a shirt on.” He plops down next to her. “So, by not chasing a girl, I get other girls to chase me. The mind of women makes no sense.”

  “Women want to know how you’re going to treat them based on how you treat other women. You took care of Emily. You respect women and you make no advances on those who you rule over. Who wouldn’t want to be with a guy who takes cares of those in his charge?” Becky removes her shoes and socks.

  “I reach an understanding of women after the world ends.” Ethan smirks. “Figures.”

  “Why won’t you date?”

  “You know scavenging hunts are a privilege. Your questions might get you guarding a garden from the cows.” He pushes himself up, struggling to stay on his bad leg. “I’ll see if I can’t get you stationed someplace else. Maybe carrot patrol. Plenty of rascally rabbits to shoot.”

  “Funny. Too bad the world ended. Your comedy career would have soared.” Becky drops her shorts. She glances into his eyes before he turns his head to avoid staring at her ass. “You’re still in pain?” She doesn’t mean his leg. She steps over the bridge guard rail. “You’re afraid of being hurt. You’ve been safe all this time afraid to live. By holding onto your pain, it allows you to push everyone away and you stay emotionally safe.” She hops to a rock below.

  “I’m out here every day risking my life to keep everyone safe. Having a love back home would only put my choices into question. Anyone operating out here must not have distraction back home.”

  “Surviving is not enough, Ethan. You have to love.” Becky draws her toes across the surface of the water.

  “In this new world, in order for our group to succeed, some of us have to sacrifice their humanity.”

  “Why not love? Even if it’s not Emily. You allow her age to be an excuse, but it’s not anymore. Not in this world. She’s no baby. There are plenty of other women who desire you. Let go of your fear. Don’t be afraid to love.” With that, she dives into the water.

  Chad scouts the road ahead of his companions.

  Becky matches pace with Ethan’s limp. “How did you hurt yourself?” she asks.

  “I had the sex talk with you and it was less uncomfortable for me than to explain what happened,” says Ethan. “What’s in the book?”

  Becky flips through the pages of the diary. “Someone tried to document what happened.”

  “A kid?”

  “An early teen. The first few pages are girl stuff.” She turns into a tween. “Like Johnny’s cute. Why aren’t my boobs bigger? My dad wants to talk to me about sex and I just want to die. I wouldn’t know what any of that’s like.”

  “She wrote about the talk?”

  “No.”

  “It would have to be a kid anyway. I doubt adults took time to write anything down,” Ethan speculates.

  “She didn’t have time to write long entries.”

  “If humanity survives the next few years and thrives in some capacity, people will want to know what caused it.”

  “You said it does matter,” Becky reminds him.

  “It doesn’t. It doesn’t to us. People in the future will want to know for them to question the choices we make. People armchair history because they weren’t alive at the time when those choices had to be made.”

  “Part of me wants to know and part of me doesn’t. At first people claimed it was a plague released by our own government. I don’t want to know if it’s true,” Becky says.

  “I was busy surviving and trying to reach family in those first days.”

  Becky flips some pages. “She relabeled and stopped dating the entries. The cursive’s so pretty and legible. I think she could have grown up to be an artist.

  Day I

  Not sure if this is day one of the outbreak. Mom calls it an outbreak. Terrifying Biblical End of Humanity would scare people too much. News has had concerns and alerts for three days now and everyone has been ordered to pack one carry-on sized bag and report to an evacuation center locations constantly scrolling across the TV screen and internet. Mom believes if it is plague then joining with other people will only help to spread the disease. Mom has never allowed dad to have his guns out in the house. I had no idea he had so many when he laid them all out on the kitchen table. I may get to learn to shoot. We’ve filled the tub with water and everything that will hold water. All of us sleeping in the living room like when the power goes out during a winter storm. Dad has boarded up the basement and stocking it with supplies. He thinks it’s the safest place with only one entrance. As I write three TV channels I like have switches to twenty-four-hour news and two others are nothing but black now.

  “The news should have reported what was happening.”

  “‘Dead Return to Life’. No one would believe such a headline outside a horror movie,” Ethan says.

  “The government should have acted faster. Protected us.” Becky’s disgust in the system is evident when she nearly tears a page when she turns it.

  “How old were you when Katrina happened? Waiting to act is what they do. What else did she write?”

  “More dad fixes basement. More water collection. More orders to evacuate. Fewer and fewer television stations.” She scans each page, “All channels show news now and only stories about fighting in major cities. Here we go—

  Day IV

  NO INTERNET!!!!!!!!!!!!

  How do I LIVE Without Snapchat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Dad said this would be a final trip into town. I would never believed it if I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes. The news said it’s plague. Dad said a natural plague didn’t work so fast. Mom and I stayed in the truck. Dad went into the hardware store. Mr. Danvers who taught my mom math and I would have him next school year, bit mom on the arm and wouldn’t let go. Dad hit him so hard with a 2x4 the board broke. Mr. Danvers fell down, but he got back up trying to bite dad. Dad shot him. Three times in the chest. He just kept getting back up. Dad said he has rabies. We got mom home. Her bite won’t co-agu-late. Just bleed and bleed a blackish blood. Parts of town are on fire. The glow even at the farm makes it like a sunset at 3AM.

  Becky flips the page.

  Day V

  Bleeding stopped.

  Mom is sick. The infected bite. Dads says she has rabies too. No TV. Dad says no hospitals to help her.

  Dad was gone. All afternoon. I used the last of the ice to cool mom. When Dad came back he was muddy dirty. Told me to say good bye to mom.

  Becky flips the pages; all the rest are blank.

  “Not much of a history, everyone who still lives tells almost that story,” says Ethan.


  “He shot his wife.”

  “More than likely.”

  “Before she turned.” There were no bodies in the house. I never check basements for supplies—too dark. Too great a chance of a hidden biter. I’d bet he shot his daughter and then himself.

  “If he thought it was a disease he did it to protect his daughter. After shooting a man three times who was in his fifties and he remained standing, I’d put down any sick person I saw,” says Ethan.

  “You had to…didn’t you?”

  Ethan considers his answer might relieve him of the burden. “She’d already turned.”

  “You daughter?” Becky asks.

  He nods. “I’m not sure what transpired. I was divorced. Living across the state for my job. They left the house for an evacuation shelter. I’d received messages when they arrived. Then I found one girl at the house.” Ethan chokes on the emotions he swallows. “A note said they were going to a second rescue station. The evacuation centers were abandoned. I lost any trail.”

  “Why bounce around rescue stations?” Becky asks.” If they were exposed, it would be at the stations.”

  “If people thought it was a plague they might conclude separation from people might prevent the spread. So, they went back home. Then one turned. I don’t know.”

  “No disease spreads like this. All those cities around the world at once.”

  “Does if it was weaponized.” Ethan’s tone chills her.

  “If they made it? It means a cure is possible.” Becky flusters her thoughts as she considers the fate of the diary author.

  “If it was something out of nature then maybe it’s just our time. The planet finding a way to restore balance to herself.”

  “Like that M. Night Shyamalan movie with the plants killing people,” Becky says.

  “Something along those lines. I know I can do nothing about the cause. I doubt knowing the cause changes anything, but human curiosity does demand answers.”

  BEYOND TRAINING, DANZIGER has never been in the position he has placed dozens of perpetrators—on his knees with fingers laced on top of his head. Next to him, armed gunmen shove a shirtless Tony to his knees. His lip bleeds. They gave up without a struggle. Hindsight reveals shooting their way out was the correct choice. At the moment, the three trucks rolled up he thought better of speaking with the survivors than shooting. He knew they were lost. Too far east of the city. Helping the girl and her dog brought them too far south.

  “What to do with these three?” Kaleb Bowlin whaps a metal poker into his left hand.

  Men drag tree branches and broken lumber forming a tent of wood. Once completed, they build a fire in the center of the cylindrical pyramid.

  “They had military-issued equipment.” Garth holds up an olive bandoleer.

  “Makes you wonder, Kaleb, if they know someone…someone who visited a military base recently.”

  “They don’t smell too bad neither.” Garth sniffs at a tuft of Kelsey’s hair. “She’s had a shampoo.” He shoves her to her knees on the other side of Danziger. They patted down all three of them removing all weapons. The man seemed to take a little long inspecting her.

  “Tie him down, naked,” Kaleb orders, pointing the poker at Tony.

  The men jerk Tony to his feet.

  Danziger protests, “Just take our gear. We have no quarrel with you. We’re just scavenging for supplies like every survivor.”

  “We’re doing more than scavenging. Your gear bags are all military issue and brand new. You haven’t even snagged one on a fence yet.” Kaleb waves the backpack in Danziger’s face. “If you weren’t at Fort Wood—you know someone who left there with truckloads of supplies.”

  Danziger has no idea what these men are searching for; if he did, he might be able to save his team.

  The men hog tie Tony leaving his unclothed rump in the air.

  Garth waves a paper sheathed in a plastic sleeve before Danziger. “So you know this man.”

  Danziger shows no reaction. Kelsey doesn’t burst out an answer, but her surprised glance reveals she recognizes the image.

  Kaleb whaps his hand with the metal rod. “Now, I know if I ask you, you’ll lie out of loyalty to you master. You may not even know he murdered my brother. But you do know his current whereabouts. The question is how much pain must be endured before I believe your answer?”

  “Do what you want. We won’t tell you.” Kelsey’s resistance confirms she knows the image.

  “I’m not starting with you.” Kaleb draws the poker into a batting stance and smashes Tony’s hams.

  Even if he wanted to, Tony’s unable to hold in a scream.

  Garth draws his index and middle finger through her soft hair. “I know you promised your new bride we’d no longer rape, but some of the boys—”

  “No. I gave my word to my queen.” Kaleb drops the poker’s pointed end into the campfire.

  “I’m sure she meant only women,” Garth says.

  “Garth, I had no idea you enjoyed buggery.”

  “Not me, but of couple of the men did serve time and wouldn’t mind trying a little black ass.”

  “Fuck you, cracker mother fuckers.” Tony squirms but his bonds are too tight.

  “What do you want to know? Just let them go and I’ll tell you,” Danziger offers.

  Kaleb waves the drawing. “Where is this man?”

  “I don’t know,” Danziger spits.

  Kaleb snaps his fingers. His minions twist Danziger’s neck, forcing him to view Tony.

  “I’ll torture your friends until you tell me, and I believe you. You get to watch. All nice and safe.”

  Garth hands Kaleb bolt cutters. “They say the threat of torture is more traumatic than the actual pain inflicted.” He slips the jaws over one of Tony’s finger’s and crimps it off.

  Tony’s shrills cause to Danziger drops his eyes.

  “Fuck you, cracker-ass mother fucker,” he blubbers. Blood squirts in three quicks burst then dribbles out.

  Without a word, Kaleb stirs the fire with the poker he placed in it. He removes the red hot top, searing closed the bleeding appendage.

  Tony’s shrieks turn to whimpers of pain. “My younger brother is a college nerd and book read. Not me. I never read much, but I did like reading about the Vlad Tepes dude. He like to impale his enemies. It would be a slow death and unstoppable. I doubt you’d talk knowing you’ll die no matter what. The only reprieve I would offer would be a quick death.” Kaleb sticks the cooling poker back into the fire.

  “We don’t know where he is at,” Kelsey confirms.

  “My brother, may he rest in peace, loved to inflict pain. I ask you again, where is the man who killed him!”

  The only answer is Tony’s blubbering.

  “You know what’s coming, don’t you, girl. Your friend, he can’t. He’s just glad he not having a bus parked in his ass by my men. He knows we’re cooking up something. He might want death. He’ll beg for it. You tell me where my brother’s killer is and I’ll strip the three of you and leave you tied to a tree. You might escape.”

  “Fuck you!” Kelsey says.

  He pulls out the white-hot metal. “Last chance.” Kaleb touches the poker to the wrinkled skin of Tony’s manhood.

  Kelsey hears only the searing of meat like the time she dropped a frozen pork chop onto a hot skillet. Bile swills in her mouth and stomach acid burns her nose. Burt hair overwhelms her followed by the aroma of cooking meat. No matter how many people she’s has seen die in the past few months pleading for help, the guttural sounds from Tony are the worst.

  “Tell me where the man who killed my brother is.” Kaleb rubs his bewhiskered chin. “What’s your name, boy?”

  Tony’s defiance comes in a whimper, “Fuck you.”

  “What loyalty do you have to this man? He just cost you your balls.”

  Sizzling fat cooks under the charring flesh as he rolls the poker along Tony’s backside.

  Sometime during the screams, Tony passes out.
r />   “Which one of you wants it next? If I were you, I’d be shitting myself wondering how much fire hurts.” Kaleb jabs the poker back into the fire. “Tell me. I’ll tie you to the tree and leave you. I’ll tie up so you’ll be able to work yourself free. No one will ever know you told me. Everyone will just think the infected got your leader.”

  Stoic Danziger and Kelsey refuse to answer.

  “Strip the girl,” he orders. “We’ll see if he can stand her pretty skin burning.”

  As the men enjoy tugging and jerking at Kelsey’s clothes, she breaks free. Danziger uses the momentary distraction to lunge at the captors. He knocks one down. Quickly overwhelmed, the men beat and club him until blood flows from his nose.

  Dragging Kelsey by her hair, Kaleb flings her against the truck bed. He pins her with his full body weight. He controls his urge to smash her face. Letting loose his frustration for an answer in six kidney punches to her abdomen.

  He flips her to the ground.

  Kelsey has no struggle left.

  Kaleb pulls on a heavy work glove before withdrawing the poker.

  “Where is the man who murdered my brother?” Not giving time for her to answer, he whacks Kelsey across her back, kicks her over to flop flat on her back. “We play a game. I hit you back-front, back-front until you talk.”

  Kelsey’s arms pull away from her shoulder sockets as her toes scrape the dirt searching for a surface to balance on. The burnt whelps refuse to allow her skin to stretch as it did before. If she could just get some leverage, she could pull herself up and work the rope knot. Warm liquid flows down her legs. The releasing pressure burns. She forces herself to glance down. A yellow-red pool puddled at her feet. She does have red pee.

  Despite the pain, she should have held her pee. She’ll need water soon. Once the mid-morning sun moves beyond the branch, she’ll cook in the sun.

  Kaleb kept his word—all three of them are alive—now he knows where Ethan travels. A man who saved her life—betrayed.

  If she doesn’t work free, her life will end of her dying of exposure, dehydration, or a passing biter.

  Even if she does escape, they have no supplies, clothes, weapons, or medical attention. She doubts Tony will be able to move and she hasn’t the strength to carry him. Even if her arms weren’t dislocated under her hanging weight.

 

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