Boomer

by K. L. Savage

  “I know, I’m sorry, okay? I need her back.” I need her safe.

  “We will get her. We always win.”

  “Good evil versus bad evil?” I ask, wondering if there is such a thing.

  “Whatever it is, it’s still good, ain’t it?” Reaper asks. “Here’s what I think. We go in and empty out that damn shed. Those poor bastards don’t have long. Doc, you’re going to have to get a big van to fit all the wounded. The guys hanging in the shed, the girls, they’re first before any of us, so if any of you get wounded, suck it the fuck up. I don’t care if Boomer blows your arm off; you aren’t priority.”

  “Got it, Prez,” Doc says, patching up Homer’s head. The old man keeps swatting at Doc’s hand, but doc ignores him.

  “Boomer, how much artillery do you have?” Reaper asks, and all eyes turn on me.

  “Enough to soothe my itch,” I reply, patting all the pockets I made for my cut to feel the weight of the short dynamite sticks I have. They’re big enough to fit right in someone’s mouth. I can’t wait to use them.

  “And they call me crazy,” Tongue says, sitting on the ground as he sharpens his knife and cleans it off to a perfect polished shine.

  “Says the guy bathed in blood from cutting out someone’s tongue,” Badge grumbles.

  “Just doing what’s expected of me.” Tongue lifts a shoulder, not caring about what anyone has to think about him.

  I’m finally at that point too.

  I’m done letting my vice control me.

  I’m going to control it, and the violent thoughts? Fuck ’em because they’re about to be violent tendencies that will help me battle a war.

  A war I plan on conquering.

  23

  Scarlett

  I wish I could turn the clock back a day and listen to the part of soul that told me to stay with Boomer. I knew I made a mistake the second I stepped foot on that highway and started walking toward the city where all the casinos are. I saw the truth in his eyes, the hurt, the pain.

  He lied to protect me, and I turned around and did something worse.

  I hurt him on purpose.

  Now, I’m back where it all started, only I’m not in the basement. I’m in Venom’s room, chained to the bed, spread eagle. Luckily, I’m not naked, but I know it’s only a matter of time before he has his way.

  Stupid. I’m so stupid. I deserve what I get for leaving Boomer like that. I wouldn’t listen to reason, to anything, and it was dumb of me. I’m glad the girls didn’t agree to come with me; no matter how much I begged them, they wouldn’t move.

  Smart women.

  Or they would be like me right now, bound on a dirty bed with sheets that reek of sweat and sex. And I know it wasn’t consensual. No woman in their right mind would willingly have sex with Venom.

  My arms ache from being pulled back, and the collar around my throat is tighter this time. I’m not panicking. I’m scared, yes, but panic … that I don’t feel. Maybe it’s because I know my fate. I regret not telling Boomer how much I love him or how sorry I am for not believing in him.

  A commotion from outside the bedroom door gets my attention. I home in the best I can, trying to figure out what is going on. A slight knock on the window has me turning my head to the left, staring through the dust shining against the sun beaming through the glass. The collar pinches my throat and mildly cuts off my air supply.

  But I’ve never felt more relieved. Bullseye is there; I think that’s his name. He holds up his phone and puts his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet. He must be telling someone I’m alright. Maybe Boomer? Maybe somehow, someway, he still cares even though I’ve betrayed him now, his trust, his faith, his love.

  Maybe there’s still a chance for us.

  The door busts in, and Bullseye dips down so Venom doesn’t see him. My eyes round, and I try to get away from him when I see him holding up a man who looks dead, dried blood around his mouth. Venom’s chest is pumping, a sheen of sweat either from anger or the lack of not having air conditioning, shines against his chest, and he points at me.

  “Look what your fucking men did to mine!” he roars, dragging the body by the scalp. He puts the man right against the bed and pries his mouth open. “You see that! Do you see what those fuckers did?”

  They cut out his tongue.

  “And half of his fucking skull is bashed in. They’ve declared war. They have no idea who they’re messing with. They think I can’t smell deceit. Reaper has always been a good boy. I knew when he showed up he was up to no good. Good thing I had my boys follow him around. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw you and that boy fucking on the beach.” He throws the dead man onto the floor, the skull landing with a loud thud, and it makes me flinch. “Is that what I have to do to you, girly? I gotta fuck you? If I knew you were handing it out so easy, I wouldn’t have put you in the basement with the rest.” He cups my pussy, and there’s nothing I can do. I’m at his mercy while I bound to the iron bed.

  At least I’m not naked. Small favors and all.

  “I bet this pussy is sweet,” he howls. “And when I’m done, I’m going to have my men take their turn. They’ll fill you up with so much cum, you’ll probably get pregnant and won’t know who the baby daddy is.” He laughs, running his nicotine-stained fingers down my leg. “All while you’re tied up with nowhere to go. Eventually, I’ll do to you what they did to him.” He points to the dead man on the ground. “But not before I have a taste of you.”

  “Fuck you.” I spit a wad of saliva at him, and it lands on his face.

  He swipes his finger through it and puts it in his mouth, somersaulting my stomach into a chaotic knot. Bile creeps up my throat when he smiles, showing his yellow rotted teeth. His hair is long, too long, down to his waist, and so thin I can see his scalp. “Just a taste to hold me over until later.” He throws his head back and laughs, slamming the door behind him as he leaves.

  He forgot to take the dead guy with him. I swallow, keeping my head turned so I don’t have to see him face-up, mouth open, with no tongue. It’s disturbing and enough to add to the nightmares I’ll have for the rest of my life.

  I glance at the window again, but there’s no sign of Bullseye. I hoped he was coming to take me away, but nothing is ever that simple. If life was so easy, this situation wouldn’t exist, not for me or anyone.

  A light tap on the window gets my attention again, and Bullseye’s head pop up. I see the smear of blood on his cheek. He smiles and holds up something small and green. He yanks the clip off and throws it to the left of him. He rubs his hands together and then lifts three up.

  Then two.

  Holy shit, he’s counting down. I brace myself.

  One.

  An explosion rocks the house, and Bullseye sends me a wink before dunking below the window again. It’s like pop goes the freaking weasel with that guy. Will he stop playing around and get me out of here?

  He pops up and punches through the glass, a shirt wrapped around his hand, and surprisingly, it makes less noise. He reaches in and opens it from the inside and climbs in, careful to keep himself quiet.

  “Good to see you’re still in once piece,” he says, hurrying over to my side and inserts a dart into the locks.

  “That’s not going to wo—” The lock sliding free catches me by surprise. He gets to work on the lock on my wrist and neck. Soon, I’m free, and Bullseye hands me a dart. “Listen up because I don’t have much time before shit hits the fan. We’re going to climb out the window, and you’re—”

  But he doesn’t have time to finish. Venom kicks the door in and lifts a gun, shooting Bullseye right in the chest. I feel the warm spray of blood against my face and kneel to check on him when Venom grabs me by the hair, dragging me out of the room on my knees.

  “Let me go!” I scream, fighting to break free of his hold.

  “I’ll make sure he won’t get you,” he seethes, opening up the basement door that swallowed me hole to begin with. He throws me down the steps, and
my arm bends at a funny angle as I hit the middle step. I cry out, continuing to roll down the stairs, my body hitting each sharp edge with more force than the last. “You’ll die here. I’ll make sure of that.” The light that casted down the steps is gone when he slams the door shut.

  “Are you okay?” a soft voice asks from my right. “Miss?”

  I groan, pushing myself up on my good arm. My bone is sticking out. I’m in so much pain that I almost can’t feel it. The white spear is covered in blood, and my arm is throbbing. My red life force is pooling on the ground quickly. I need a temporary fix, and the only way is to pop the bone back in. “I’m going to get you all out of here,” I say through broken gasps. “First, does anyone have a belt?”

  “I do,” a girl in the back says.

  I fall over myself trying to get to her, nearly running into a slanted beam that’s above to give. If it does, the entire house will collapse on us. I fall to my knees, feeling a bit woozy from either the blood loss or the fact I see the bone sticking out of my arm.

  “What’s it for?” she asks.

  “For me to bite down on because this is going to hurt.” I might end up doing myself more harm than good, but I can’t get these girls out of here with my bone out. Fuck, what about Bullseye? I need to get to him too. This is all fucked up. How is this so fucked up!

  I fumble with her belt, and it takes some doing since I can only use one hand. It’s a skinny belt, made to be fashionable, but it’s better than nothing. “Okay. Okay. Alright,” I tell myself. “We’re doing this. You, can I borrow that cardigan?”

  “Yes, go ahead. I don’t freaking need it. Just get us out of here!”

  I yank the cardigan off her and shove the belt in my mouth. I shake my head; I can’t do this. I can’t. I cry when the wound burns from the agony. I’m horrible with pain, but these girls need me. I have to push through it.

  “On the count of three,” the girl says, who’s now wearing a camisole, showing the bruises along her arms.

  I nod to her, glad that she’s taking control, or we would be here all night.

  “One.”

  I take a breath.

  “Two.”

  I send a silent prayer to somebody, anyone who will listen.

  “Three!”

  I shove the bone back in my skin, my muscles being pinched and pushed. The swollen tissue and broken veins sting and burn with so much pain. I fall onto my ass and scream around the belt, biting through the cheap plastic, and everything around me tilts and spins.

  “Oh god, that sounded sick. Jesus, are you okay?”

  I don’t answer her. I try to regulate my breathing by making my lungs expand. I fight the urge to pass out and sit up. With sloppy movements as if I were drunk, I wrap the cardigan around my arm, then my next, creating a makeshift sling. “I need a minute,” I say, falling against the rickety beam. It groans, and I move off it, falling to my knees. The dart moves in my pocket, poking me in the leg, and that’s when I remember Bullseye giving it to me before he got shot. He counted on me. He gave it to me for a reason, and I bet it was so I could get these girls out.

  I reach in and take the metal dart out and unlock the collar around the girl who let me have her cardigan. “What’s your name?”

  “Mary,” she chokes when the collar falls free. “Thank you.”

  “Help is coming,” I say. “Just give them time.” Another explosion rings out, and dirt falls down on us like rain.

  Time we might not have.

  I hurry with all of their locks, and by the end of it, I’m sweating, swallowing down mouthfuls of vomit from the pain and exertion I’m putting myself through. We sit near the steps in the corner and wait, hoping that the next explosion doesn’t bury us alive.

  24

  Boomer

  “Coming in fucking hot!” I yell, grabbing another piece of shit man that dares call himself a Ruthless and shove a stick of dynamite down his throat. He doesn’t even have time to think and I love the moment they realize that.

  All wide−eyed and afraid.

  Reaper has his gun, shooting the enemy down one by one. Bodies lay everywhere, resembling a graveyard.

  I take a grenade and throw it on the front porch at the time two men run out right as the bomb goes off. “Eight down,” I tell myself, but who is counting?

  I see Tongue in the distance, climbing out of the window with a massive body slung over his shoulder. Fuck, that’s Bullseye.

  “Bullseye is down! Shot in the chest!”

  Reaper stops shooting when he hears that, earning him his own bullet right in the shoulder. He cries out, lifting the weapon with the same arm he is shot in. God, I hope to be as badass as him one day. He fires at the man, landing two bullets in his head.

  Someone’s wraps their arms around me, trying to choke the life out of me. I rear my arm up and slam it back, using my elbow to break a rib. I grab another grenade and shove it in the front of the guys pants, letting a mad laugh escape me when I hear the loud bang blowing off his dick.

  Sucks to be him.

  Tool and Knives open the doors that allow people into the basement. One by one, Tool helps the girls, but I don’t see Scarlett. I look around, searching the area for any sign of her, but she isn’t there. Most of the enemy is down, dead, and only a few remain. Those who do are on their knees pleading for their life.

  “Please,” the bastard begs. “Please. I never agreed with what he did.”

  I pull out a knife, not wanting to hear his excuses and shove it right in his head. I yank it out and a sickening crush sounds from his skull and brain turning to mush. I kick him down with my father’s boot and seeing that, feeling his cut on me, a new sense of power overcomes me. It feels stronger than usual, like him, like my dad.

  I don’t believe in that shit, but right now, I’m willing to believe in anything. I charge toward the front of the broken front door, not bothering to look as I slice another throat. I’m covered in sweat, blood, and dirt.

  And I’ll continue on my fucking wrath until I have what I came here for.

  My clarity.

  Right as I go to open the door, a man tackles me from the side, and it allows me to catch a glimpse of Tool and Badge opening the shed. I don’t have time to look for more, to see if they got those guys out because this guy manages to get his hands wrapped around my throat, a lucky move on his part. He sticks his tongue out, a crazy gleam in his eyes as he watches my face turn red.

  The knife is knocked out of my hand and I can’t get to my grenades. I reach up and dig my fingers into his eyes, pushing them so far into their socket, they start to bleed. The man jumps off me and cries, “I’m blind. I’m blind!”

  “It’s the least of your worries.” I grab my knife and sling it, landing right in the man’s throat. I walk over and pull it out, allowing the blood to bathe my boots as it flows out of him, just like a dam breaking. “How’s it feels? The pressure in your throat?” I watch as he realizes he is about to die and right as the last second ticks by, his pupils round and dilate.

  Dead.

  It’s starting to get quiet, too quiet because Venom has yet to be seen. The porch is fucked, so I have to jump up to grab the floor where the front door used to be and pull myself up. Grunting, my throat still burning from the man’s hands, I walk inside.

  My boots leave a red trail in their wake and when I get to the main room, Venom is there, sitting at a poker table, a gun to Scarlett’s temple and a deck of cards in a neat stack. Her hands are bound, and that damn collar is on her again. I fucking swear, I’m not going to kill this guy. I’m going to put the collar around his neck chain him naked to two trucks and tell who is ever driving to gas it so I can see him get ripped to fucking shreds from the base of his beck.

  “Things are getting out of hand, don’t you think?” Venom exhales a cloud of smoke, thick with a green tint and by the skunk smell of it, I’d say it’s weed.

  I pull a chair out and notice how bad Scarlett is shaking. Tears around running
down her face and she looks at me with so much love, fear, and apology, begging me to get her out of here. And I will, but no fast moves, not when Venom has a gun to her head.

  “You know, we can settle this like men,” he says. “I’m all about playing for keeps, boy.”

  There’s that fucking name again.

  “Either way, you aren’t walking out of here alive, Venom. I’m going to take my Old Lady there and blow you to fucking bits.” Well, I’m torn on what I really want to do to him. The sicker side of me wants more for him than a quick death, but for Scarlett’s sake, he deserves to never walk out of this house.

  “Oh, that’s not how a gentlemen’s wager works. Now, we play, you win, you get your girl, and I walk free, never to bother you again.”

  “If I lose?”

  “This sweet little piece of ass is mine.”

  Over my dead body. “Fine,” I tell him, and Scarlett pinches her brows, shaking her head so hard that the tears fly and wet the felt on the table. He reaches his hand over for a shake and I meet it, knowing damn good and well, to never trust anyone that can lie.

  “You deal,” he says, placing the joint between his lips.

  I deal out the community cards in a line straight in the middle and deal out two cards to each of us. There is no betting or throwing money down because Scarlett is the prize. When I peak at my cards in my hand, I hide my grin. I have the best fucking poker face there is. And I know that the only one leaving here a winner, is me.

  Venom chuckles. “Ah, kid, sucks to be you. I can’t wait to sink into this tight cunt.” He lays out his two cards and he is right, it isn’t bad, but mine is better. Nothing can beat mine. He has two Aces.

  “Yeah,” I drawl out, “But the only man sinking to her tight cunt, will be me.” I lay down my hand and show that I have a royal flush. “Who is the king now, Venom?”

  His jaw tics and in a quick move he throws Scarlett at me, the points the gun to my head. I duck down and barely miss the bullet and rip the clip of the grenade off with my teeth. Scarlett stares at device, knowing that we are going to have to hall ass. I stand up and throw it at his feet, watching him the confusion, then realization, then acceptance roll over his features.