by Hunt, Jack
Once in, they stood there listening for activity.
Nothing.
Erika brushed past Nate and motioned with two fingers for him to clear the lower rooms while she went up and searched for clothes. He gave a nod, and she quietly scaled the stairs to the second floor. The bathroom door was open at the end of the hall. The house stunk of rotten food, garbage, piss and shit. If they didn’t die from a bullet, the chances were a lack of sanitation would kill them. At least that’s what Andy said. Erika held a Glock in her hand as she used her foot to ease open a door. The two guest rooms were empty. Nothing in the closets. She went on toward the main bedroom and her mind went back to the day they’d searched Corey’s home. Fear crept over her, expecting someone to jump out and take them hostage again. Although she’d lived through the incident with Denise, it had affected her deeply. She’d come a long way since managing a hotel in Vegas and rubbing shoulders with the rich. If her mother could see her now, she would have gone ballistic.
Erika entered the large main bedroom which had a four-poster bed. The duvet cover was on the floor. She crouched and peered beneath the bed to make sure no one was there and then made her way to the closet. “Perfect,” she said looking inside. It wasn’t full but the owner must have had one too many outfits and had only packed the essentials when they left. She snagged up a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and sweater and laid them out on the bed, then snorted. They were massive, at least twice the size of Helen. It would have to do. She approached the window and looked for militia. Those that weren’t stationed at the corners of buildings were patrolling the streets or riding in military vehicles. Erika was just about to leave the room when she heard a thud. It came from above. Her eyes lifted. There wasn’t a third floor to the house, so it had to be coming from the attic. She brought up the gun, her pulse speeding up. Erika left the clothes and made her way down the hallway to the top of the stairs and in a low voice called out to Nate.
“Nate. You there?”
While she waited, she scanned the ceiling. That’s when she noticed small black holes. Moving down the hallway she looked into the bathroom and noticed another. They were small, but it was clear someone had drilled them from above. Making her way back to the stairs, she called to Nate again. This time he heard her.
He emerged from the living room.
“What is it?”
Erika gestured with a head nod to the ceiling. Nate climbed the stairs and beckoned her out. “Let’s go.”
She nodded and went to get the clothes from the room. However, this time when she entered the room the door slammed shut behind her. Before she had a chance to turn, a heavy guy took her to the floor, keeping one hand on her wrist to prevent her from shooting. “Nate!”
Unfortunately Nate was in a fight for his own life. No sooner had the door slammed shut than he went for it. Someone blindsided him from one of the guest rooms, knocking him back into a wall. He twisted in their grip and fired a knee into his attacker’s gut and shoved them back. That was when he got a look at him. He was in his early forties, dark circles around his eyes, pale and sick looking. He wore a white muscle shirt, and his gut protruded over his belt. He jabbed the knife out, slashing the air in front of him. All the while he could hear a commotion in the room to his right. He knew Erika was in the heat of battle.
A section of ceiling farther down the hall shifted and a tall, stringy fella appeared. His cheeks were sunken, and from the marks up his arms it was clear he was a druggie. Shit. It all made sense now. As he’d cleared the rooms in the lower half of the house, he’d seen dirty needles in the sink, and some leftover white powder on the table. They’d walked into a crack house.
“I would put that down if I was you,” the string bean guy said.
“Stay back,” Nate replied, backing up.
“Can’t do that. You want your friend to survive, I would do as I say.”
“She can handle herself,” Nate replied.
“Quinn.”
The heavyset fella charged him. Nate shot to the side while jabbing forward with his knife. The guy went straight into it. The blade sank into his bulbous gut and Nate followed through with a right hook to the face. String bean cursed and raced towards him, screaming like a banshee. Nate kicked the fat guy off the blade, back into his pal, and then leaped over. As he landed on top of the stringy guy, a flap that led to the attic opened, and someone shouted. He couldn’t turn to see who it was but he knew if he didn’t act fast, he would die. He didn’t hesitate in driving the knife through the man’s rib cage, he twisted just in time to see another guy drop into view holding a baseball bat. “You have got to be kidding,” he said. In a frenzied attack, the bat-wielding maniac brought the bat down in bone-crashing fashion only to have Nate shift string bean into its deadly path. The bat cracked the back of his head wide open, blood streamed down dripping onto Nate as he kicked him off. Scrambling, his hand now gloved in blood, he ducked and weaved as the insane man swung the bat, slashing the air. It smashed into the drywall missing him by inches. Nate took that split-second window of opportunity to lunge forward and take him down. They crashed into the bannister and toppled over the top. It all happened so quick. His knife sinking in, the floor zooming up to meet them. Their bodies crashed onto the hard floor; his attacker taking the full impact. Even though his body had protected him from breaking bones, Nate was still winded. Out of breath, he rolled off and took a second to catch his breath.
He heard Erika scream. It wasn’t fear but pain. Gritting his teeth he hauled himself up, holding an arm around his waist. His rib cage ached badly. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” he said making his way to the top. Nate charged towards the door, shouldering it with everything he had. His body burst through. Inside he found her on the bed, her jeans being pulled down by one guy, while another sat on her chest holding her arms down. A quick second to comprehend it and he snatched the closest thing to him, a lamp, and tossed it at the one guy while tackling the other. While wrestling with the muscular guy who was twice his size, he saw Erika leap on the other guy’s back like a monkey. Spinning around, their bodies slammed into the wall as he tried to get her off but she was clawing at his face. Meanwhile, Nate found himself below his attacker. The guy headbutted him hard, bursting his nose. Nate saw stars and darkness for a second before he felt the blow of fists. One after the other; raining down on him, a mixture of spit and blood dripping on his face as he pummeled. Nate was seconds from passing out when he saw Erika over the man’s shoulder. She looped cord from the lamp around his attacker’s neck and yanked it back, pulling him off. Nate rolled to his side spitting blood. He was now looking under the bed where he could see the body of the other man, his face caved in by some heavy weight. He wanted to get up so badly to help her but his face was covered in blood and he could barely breathe.
Seconds turned into minutes.
From below the bed he could see Erika holding the cord for dear life as the muscle-bound freak raked at his neck trying to pry it loose. Nate knew if he succeeded, Erika wouldn’t stand a chance.
Sure enough, he must have hooked a finger below the cord as within seconds it came loose and he managed to pull away. Erika knew full well what was coming. She turned, scrambling across the floor to get the weight but it was too late. The hulking man plowed into her; knocking her down. He latched onto her leg and dragged her back until he was able to get a hold of her behind the collar and throw her onto the bed. “I’m not finished with you yet.” So blinded by rage and his desire to fulfill his needs, he’d forgotten that Nate was on the floor, still alive.
Erika’s screams filled the air as the heavyset guy pounced on her and slapped her a few times. Nate heard her top rip, and that was when he tried to pull himself up. Beaten, exhausted and his eyes swollen, he didn’t have the energy to get up but he dug deep and clawed at the bedsheet.
The guy saw him and reached over and cracked him on the jaw with a fist that felt like granite. Down he went. His head bounced off the wooden floor.
&nbs
p; That was when he saw it.
Off to his right was the bloody knife just beneath the bed. Breathing hard he reached, scraping the floor with his fingernails. All the while, Erika was fighting to keep the man at bay. Scooping it up, he slid back until he was at the end of the bed. Out of sight; he rose. Not wasting another second, he pounced on the man, one arm around his neck and the other jabbing the knife into his rib cage — once, twice, and so on until he lost count. He only stopped when the man slumped over on top of Erika.
Panting, out of breath, he looked over the man’s shoulder at Erika then passed out.
9
It had been over 10 years since Andy had taken him and his brother camping. Under any other conditions he might have welcomed the trip but the timing struck him as insane. At first, Tyler declined when Corey shook him awake in the early hours of the morning and told him to pack a bag with enough to last the next twenty-four hours. He protested and pushed him away. But when Corey persisted and said it was important, he gave in.
Besides Edison and those guarding the walls, no one else saw them leave as orange stretched across the sky and darkness gave way to daylight. Now had he known where Andy was taking them, he would have turned around but he didn’t learn until they were ten minutes from the location. Perhaps it was for the best. The place brought back painful memories he preferred to forget. They were heading northwest to Upper Whitefish Lake, a secluded spot surrounded by beautiful mountains with a small campground on the edge of pristine waters. The location was a favorite among locals. Tents, trailers and cars were common to the area.
On the ride up, little was shared as to the reason for the trip, only that it would all make sense when they arrived. Whenever Andy said that, what followed was never good. He couldn’t help but think about the multiple times he’d suffered at his hands.
The gentle rhythm of the hooves lulled Tyler into an absent stare as his mind wandered back through time.
December.
How could he forget?
The lake had frozen over.
Andy had brought him and Corey out there when he was the ripe age of eleven, telling them very little other than to bring their fishing rods and tackle. He’d assumed they were going to spend some quality time, do some ice fishing and listen to their father’s wild stories of growing up with Lou. But that wasn’t in the cards.
Upon arriving that day, a long time ago, they erected two tents and Corey was put in charge of lighting a fire. While he did that, Andy took Tyler out on the lake and told him that if he wanted to eat tonight, he’d need to catch enough fish for all three of them. Seemed simple enough. Years of fishing, he’d become good at figuring out how to reel in fish both in and out of season. When they made it out on the ice, a good distance from shore, Andy unfolded a chair and took a seat. He then put Tyler in charge of cutting a hole in the ice. All the while Tyler kept looking back at the camp wondering when Corey would join them. Once he’d created the hole, Andy told him to make it larger. Confused, he’d asked why when all they’d need was enough space to drop their lines. His question was met by a stern look, to which Tyler backed off and did as he said. Once the hole was to his liking, he asked Tyler what kind of bait he planned on using. Seeing his opportunity to impress his old man, he reeled off a list of tips that he’d learned. Figuring Andy would say well done and let him be the first to try and catch one, he was taken aback when Andy laughed in his face. “But what if you don’t have bait? Hell, what if you don’t have a line?”
“What?”
Andy leaned forward in his chair and cast a glance towards Corey. “I said, what if you don’t have a means to catch the fish?”
Puzzled, Tyler frowned. “Then…well…”
Andy gave him the same look he had the day he’d taken them out in the boat.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s right, you don’t. But I do. Get in the water.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“But it’s freezing!”
“Mind over matter.”
“Dad. Maybe we should…”
He turned towards the shore, hoping Corey was on his way out but he was still there building a fire. That’s when it dawned on him. No sooner had he turned his head than he felt a push. Losing his footing, Tyler slipped on the ice and fell into the water. It was like being stung by a million bees all at once. The sharp edge of frigid waters took his breath and the sudden blackness of the deep swallowed him. When he came up, his hands connected with ice and panic overtook him. Through the murky waters he could see Andy above the ice looking down but doing nothing to help him. His chest began to hurt as water flooded in, filling his lungs. Frantically, Tyler clawed and struck the ice with his fist but it failed to break. At some point he passed out. When he awoke, he was at the shore, choking and coughing up water with a soaking wet Corey leaning over him. Meanwhile Andy was seated by the fire warming his hands. While he assumed his father had attempted to kill him, Corey was quick to come to his defense by telling him it was a test, nothing more. Andy was testing Corey. Tyler didn’t buy it. He saw the look of glee on his face. It was like one big joke to him.
“We’re nearly there,” Andy said over his shoulder, snapping Tyler back into the present moment. Although there were a few abandoned vehicles in the campground, the location was empty and silent. Only the sound of water lapping up against large boulders, and horses’ hooves against gravel could be heard. A flock of birds broke from a cluster of trees and soared overhead, startling Corey. After dismounting and tying the horses to a tree, Andy wandered down to the water’s edge and looked out, coughing a few times. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Tyler stood behind Corey trying to understand what was so important.
“He okay?” Tyler asked.
“I’m not sure,” Corey replied as he made his way over and placed a hand on Andy’s back. Tyler glanced off to the location he remembered from when he was a kid. It was like reliving the nightmare over again.
“Why did you bring us out here, Andy?” Tyler asked walking up behind him.
He turned and looked at him with a pained expression. “Let’s make some breakfast and I’ll explain.”
Tyler went off to collect some dry wood with Corey. They kept him in their sights at all times as Andy took a seat and glanced out across the water.
“Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here?” Tyler asked as he bent over and began filling his arms with twigs and short tree branches.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t go.”
“And that would have been a bad thing?” he asked.
“He’s sick, Tyler.”
Tyler laughed. “I could have told you that many years ago.”
“No, I mean it. Really sick.”
Both of them looked his way and noticed him coughing. He’d always had a cough, Tyler had notched that up to smoking, but now it was far worse. It was a deep hack. He’d often bring out a dark handkerchief and cough into it. Corey reached into his pocket and pulled out a bloodstained hanky. “I found this last night.”
“It’s his?”
“Yeah. Seems he has cancer. I confronted him and he told me. Seems he’s been hiding it for a while.”
Tyler’s eyes widened and then he shook his head. “You sure about that?”
Corey frowned at him as Tyler continued picking up branches. “You think he would lie?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Corey nodded. “I admit, he should have told you sooner but he eventually got around to it.”
He was referring to the revelation about Jude being his father.
“Oh yeah, he eventually got around to it. I’m not talking about that.”
Corey stopped collecting wood. “Then what? Because I don’t want you…”
“Mom’s alive,” Tyler spat the words out without looking at him. There was a long pause and then Tyler turned. “She’s alive.”
“What?”
“Yep. Exactly. Seems Andy’s b
een holding back a lot more than you think.”
“But…”
“She’s Morning Star, Corey. I saw her. I spoke with her.”
Corey’s brow knit together. “What? You did? When?” He got all theatrical and dropped the tree branches and took a hold of Tyler by the arm. “How long?”
“Have I known? A month.”
Corey narrowed his eyes and jabbed his finger at the ground. “You’ve known for a month and never told me?” He ran a hand over his mouth and turned around shaking his head. “Is this some kind of joke? How can you be sure?”
“You think I would make this shit up? Yes, I’m sure.”
He shook his head and looked over at Andy. “No. No, it’s impossible. You must have spoken to someone who looked like her.”
“Unless our mother had a twin sister. I doubt it very much.”
Corey crouched. He was breathing fast. He began taking deep breaths while picking up loose stones and rolling them around in his hand. “Morning Star?” He paused for a second or two. “Tell me everything.”
Tyler spent the next few minutes bringing him up to speed. “Jude knew. I saw his reaction. He wasn’t surprised to see her.”
“She’s been alive all this time and never once been to see us?”
“Yeah. Between Andy and Jude, we really lucked out,” he said sarcastically.
Corey looked towards Andy. “You think he knew?”
Tyler shrugged and pulled a face. “I don’t know. It’s just a guess. If he was left out of the loop, it wouldn’t exactly be a surprise. You gonna tell him?”
