Broken Justice

by Ralph Gibbs

  She tried to pull herself together but failed. Leaning over the sink, she swept the dish strainer full of pots, pans, and silverware off the counter in a fit of rage. The pots and pans bounded off walls and cabinets in a clattering cacophony. As her anger subsided, she started to cry and then began to laugh hysterically.

  She laughed at herself. “Mom always said I acted like a baby when I was sick.”

  Grabbing a pillow and blanket from the closet, Danica covered herself and lay on the couch. She didn’t move until there was a knock at the kitchen door the next morning. Coming awake, she wished she hadn’t. Her headache was worse, and she was running a low fever. The news said that initial signs of the plague usually took about ten days to appear, but once they did, the rest of the symptoms came in rapid succession followed by death in a matter of days.

  Loosely wrapped in her favorite blue fleece blanket and dressed only in a black sports bra and matching panties, Danica reclined against the cushions in the middle of the couch as she started to sweat heavily. She ignored whoever was knocking, but when they became insistent, she grudgingly went to answer. She picked up her pistol from the end table. Kicking pots and pans out of her way, she pulled the door open to find Erica.

  “Oh God, Danica, you look like shit,” Erica said as she started to pull open the screen door.

  “Don’t come in,” Danica said, weakly. “I’ve caught the plague.” Erica stepped back. “How’s Matthew?”

  “He’s not well,” Erica said, sounding nervous. “I think we both have it. That’s why I’m here. I was hoping you had more antibiotics.”

  “I’m afraid not, but it’s not like they worked. If they worked, I wouldn’t be standing in the doorway, feeling like I’m dying.” Danica laughed an almost maniacally. “I guess the joke’s on me because I am.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have any? Maybe I can come in and look around?” Erica started to open the door.

  “Don’t,” Danica said forcefully, raising her hand to stop Erica, only to realize there was a gun in it. She looked at the gun, puzzled as if the weapon magically appeared and then remembered bringing it with her. The fever was playing tricks with her mind. She lowered the weapon. “Sorry. I . . . I forgot I had that.”

  “It’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to share.”

  “I swear, Erica if I had any, I would give them to you.” Erica was about to say something, but Danica cut her off. “Listen, I’m feeling sweaty, dirty and hot, so I’m going upstairs to take a bath.”

  “All right. I’ll come back and check on you later.”

  Danica just smiled and kicked the door shut. “Don’t bother,” she said, resting her back against the door. “I’ll probably be dead.” Feeling nauseous, she rushed to the sink and threw up and then threw up again a few minutes later. Rinsing out her mouth, she drank a glass of water, followed by several more. Danica made her way upstairs and into the bathroom. Dropping the gun on the bathroom floor, she filled the tub with cold water and peeled off her clothes. She noticed a rash in the middle of her chest. If there was any question if she had the plague that sealed it. Sliding into the tub, she sank beneath the water, hoping to quench her sudden thirst. She felt like taking a nap.

  CHAPTER 15

  Frozen with indecision and fear, Erica stared at the closed door for several long minutes after Danica went back inside, terrified of what Wade would do for failing to acquire the medicine he wanted. Up until the door opened, and she saw how rough Danica looked, she considered confessing to Danica what was happening. Danica was a resourceful young woman, and if anyone could help, it would be her. After discovering Danica was sick, she realized she was on her own.

  Standing there, the brutality of the frequent rapes fresh in her mind, she thought about running. She might find help. The news said the army, what was left of them, was patrolling the streets. Maybe she could flag someone down, and they could get to Matthew before Wade killed him.

  In the end, there was never a doubt about what she would do. As long as they held Matthew, there was no choice but to go home. She held no illusions as to her eventual fate. No matter what happened, she was a dead woman. If the plague didn’t kill her, Donavan or Wade would. Now that she wasn’t able to procure the drugs, one of them was likely to do it sooner rather than later.

  It would be Donavan who killed them. Wade didn’t care about the two of them one way or another. She was a means to an end. It was even possible that he would leave once she explained that Danica had the plague or that she was out of antibiotics. It wouldn’t matter if she could identify him. With the world in chaos and with practically no functioning government, the chances of anyone ever catching him were slim to none, and he knew it. He would disappear into the chaos.

  With Donavan in the mix, there was no chance for her to get out of this alive. When Donavan looked at her, it was with soulless eyes that said he could not wait to kill her. When he raped her, which was growing in frequency, he was mindful of Wade’s instructions not to hurt her where it could be observed. He still took immense pleasure in inflicting painful wounds where clothes would cover them. She had bite marks all over her chest and shoulders, and Donavan had already bitten off and eaten one of her nipples, with promises to do the same with the other. There was something about the act that gave him a perverted sense of pleasure.

  “Can you imagine what the press would call me?” he asked after ripping off her nipple. He lay next to her as if he were pretending to be her lover. “They’d probably call me the Nipple Cannibal. I can just imagine the headline.” He threw an arm up in a sweeping gesture. “Nipple Cannibal Strikes Again.”

  “Your mother would be proud,” she said sarcastically, through sobs.

  He ignored her. “There’s going to be no one to admire my work,” he said, sounding disappointed. “But I guess on the bright side no one will be around to catch me either. I was really looking forward to killing Ivory. I’ve never killed anyone before. She was supposed to be my first. He should’ve let me kill the cow. I would have made her suffer more.”

  Erica couldn’t imagine how much more Ivory could have suffered.

  “I’m not exactly sure what I would have done.” He turned over on the pillow and faced her. “I’m an in-the-moment kind of guy. I just know it would have been slow and painful. When I was done making her scream, I would have slit her throat. I heard once about this thing called a Columbian Necktie where, after you cut someone’s throat, you pull their tongue through the incision. Apparently, it’s not as easy as it sounds. I wanted to see if I could do it while she was still alive.”

  Erica realized Donavan was telling her exactly how he was going to kill her.

  As soon as Erica returned home, Donavan pounced on her and searched her hands like a crack addict forced to go days without a fix.

  “Where the fuck is it?” he shouted, looking bewildered.

  “She doesn’t have anymore,” Erica said as if resigned to her fate.

  “You’re lying,” he said, slapping her. Erica flew back against the door but remained on her feet. She bled from a split lip. Erica would not give Donavan the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  “She’s sick,” Erica said stiffly.

  “I don’t believe you,” Donavan said as he coughed and wiped his nose.

  “Then go over there and ask her yourself.”

  “You stupid cow,” he said, moving to strike her again.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Wade suddenly said.

  “What?” Donavan asked, surprised. “She has a gun.” A gun was the one item that would have made the pair more dangerous, but searches of the houses of people known to have fled the city or gone to the hospital proved fruitless. The residents of Goldilocks felt secure in their small, out-of-the-way community. Most didn’t own a gun, and those that did left with them.

  “How sick was she?” Wade asked.

  “She looked pretty sick,” Erica said, thinking to play it up. Hopefully, the two would be too scared
to go over. “She was hacking up phlegm, and she looked all sweaty. I think she just vomited because she had some greenish fluid around her mouth.” To her surprise, the plan backfired.

  “That’s perfect,” Wade said to Donavon. “She’ll be too sick to do anything. You should be able to sneak in and kill her with no problem. After that, search around until you find the medicine and weapons.”

  “You don’t need to kill her,” Erica pleaded. “Look, I’ll go back over there and beg her to give me the medicine. She’ll give it to me. I know she will.”

  “Take her and chain her back up,” Wade ordered.

  Erica started to cry. “Let me go back over there,” she pleaded again as Donavan dragged her into the room. “Please Wade. Let me go over there.”

  “Mommy,” Matthew said from behind his locked door. He sounded as sick as Danica looked. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine honey. Get back in bed,” Erica said. She needed Matthew to stay quiet. The less Matthew talked, the more they forgot about him.

  Donavan ripped off her clothes and chained her to the bed.

  “I have a feeling after tonight, you won’t be needed, anymore.” he whispered in her ear as he chained her to the bed. “Looks like the Nipple Cannibal will ride again.” For emphasis, he ran the blade of his knife down her side drawing a bead of blood.

  “Why do you hate me?” she asked, almost desperate to know the answer. “What did I ever do to you?”

  “You’re a whore. All women are whores,” he said as if she should already know the answer.

  “Horseshit,” she said, finally disgusted with his entire sociopathic act. “What happened to you? Did your mommy not hug you enough when you were a teenager? She didn’t breastfeed you?”

  She could tell instantly she had struck a nerve. In a flash, Donavan was on top of her with the point of his knife digging into the skin just below her right eye. He leaned down so close to her face she could smell his hot, fetid breath.

  “Actually, just the opposite,” he said. “My mother hugged me too much. She enjoyed hugging me and touching me, especially after I started to grow pubic hair. If you want, I can take you into Matthew’s room and demonstrate.”

  “If your mother was that bad, then why haven’t you killed her?”

  “Because she’s my mother, and I love my mother,” he said feigning shock.

  “I think it’s because you enjoyed it. I bet you couldn’t wait to get home from school so you could ride the wild pony.”

  “Watch it,” he said, growing angry and gripping the knife tighter.

  “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Erica shouted into his face, finally reaching her breaking point. “So much so, whenever you’re raping me with that small dick of yours, I bet you pretend I’m your mother. What’s the matter? Did she finally tire of you? Decide to find a man with a bigger dick? You know what. I think you made the whole thing up. I think you were the one that went after her. I bet you drugged her because I can’t imagine any women willingly wanting to be with you.”

  Donavan looked Erica in the eyes, smiled and then jammed the blade through her eye and into her brain. Erica’s body convulsed like a hooked fish thrown in the dirt.

  “Oh shit,” he said when he realized what he’d done. “Damn, damn, damn.” Donavan returned to the living room sulking like a young child.

  “What’s the matter?” Wade asked.

  “I’m sorry,” he whined, not looking up from the floor. Wade walked to Erica’s room. “She started talking about my mother.”

  Wade came out of the room holding Donavan’s knife, wiped it clean of blood and handed it back to him. “You will need this.”

  “You’re not mad.”

  Wade shrugged. “Not really. We didn’t need her anymore. Just make sure when you go to Danica’s house, you get everything we need.” There was an underlying hint that if he failed, he would end up like Ivory and Erica.

  “What about the boy?”

  “Don’t worry about the boy,” Wade said. “He’s not going anywhere.”

  “I hate I killed Erica. I was looking forward to later.”

  “Danica is probably weak with fever. You can do whatever you like with her. Bring her over here, and you can have her until she dies, or longer. Just find the meds and guns. Don’t come back without them.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, young lady?” A male voice asked Danica

  Danica opened her eyes to see her father standing over the tub, hands on hips. As usual, he was immaculately dressed in his trooper uniform, complete with military creases, painstakingly ironed into his shirts every evening. Even though she couldn’t see his feet, she imagined he was tapping one spit-shined boot in exasperation.

  “Dad, what are you doing in here?” she asked weakly and aware she was naked. However, she was too miserable to care, making only a halfhearted attempt to cover herself with a rag. She wanted to go back to sleep. “Go away.”

  “Why aren’t you getting ready for school?”

  “No school,” she whispered. “Everyone’s dead.”

  “Since when is being dead an excuse? You need to get up and get ready. You need an education if you’re going to be a police officer.”

  “I told you I don’t want to be a police officer. I want to go to space.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you want any more. People will need you now more than ever.”

  She closed her eyes and opened them to see her mother dressed in her nurse’s uniform standing where her father was a moment before. “Haven’t you heard, there is no more space program?” her mother said.

  “Mom?” Danica said, looking around confused. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Dead, dear.”

  “No,” Danica said, trying to scream as water rushed into her mouth choking her. Panicked, she threw her arm over the side of the tub to hold herself up.

  “Now, now. Don’t be like that,” her mother said, trying to calm her. “We always knew this could happen.”

  Danica began to cry. “I never got a chance to tell him—”

  “—That you’re a lesbian?” her mother finished for her. “We’re your parents, dear. We know everything. Besides, Bailey told us.”

  “Bailey?” she said shocked. “That little—”

  “Don’t drag me into this,” Bailey said where her mother was a moment earlier. He looked at Danica. “What’s a lesbian?”

  “Go away, you perv,” she said roughly, even though she was happy to see that he was not dead. Or was he? When she blinked, her brother was gone, and her mother was back.

  “Why didn’t you say something before?” Danica asked her mother.

  “We always thought it was a phase,” her father said, her mother no longer in the bathroom. Danica was becoming confused, so she just shut her eyes. “We figured you’d grow out of it.”

  “You don’t grow out of being a gay, Dad,” Danica said with a hint of amusement.

  “Danica’s a lesbian, Danica’s a lesbian,” her brother taunted.

  Danica threw the rag at her brother. Bailey ran from the room, laughing. “Are you going to be the first lesbian in space?”

  “Too late for that,” Danica said.

  “Time to get out of the tub,” her father said.

  “I don’t want to,” she said, whining. “I’m burning up.”

  “Now, young lady,” her father commanded.

  “Yes, sir,” Danica said. She knew better than to argue with her father when he was like this. Danica tried to sit up but found her body unresponsive. It was as if she were paralyzed from the chest down.

  “I’ve trained you better than that,” her father yelled.

  “I’m trying,” she wanted to scream, but it came out just as weak as she felt.

  “Try harder,” her father commanded.

  Danica grabbed the faucet, turning on the cold water in the process. Holding onto the nozzle, she pulled herself into a sitting position. She tried to
climb out again but fell back.

  “You can do better than that,” her mother said.

  On the fifth try, she was able to get most of her chest over the side of the tub. After that, it was just a matter of letting gravity take effect. Sliding to the floor, she landed hard on her side and nearly passed out again. The bathtub started overflowing and helped cool her down. She turned her head and threw up and then shit herself.

  “You,” her mother’s disembodied face said and vanished.

  “Need,” her brother added.

  “To fight,” her father finished.

  “I’m trying,” Danica said and then rolled over and threw up again.

  “You,” her mother said.

  “Need,” her brother supplied.

  “To fight,” her father finished again. Her family repeated the mantra over and over. When they were finished, she always supplied her part: “I’m trying.”

  **********

  Donavan peeked through the kitchen door window. He had brought a flashlight but discovered he didn’t need it as several lights were on in the house. He noticed pots and pans on the floor and wondered if this was a crude early warning system. If it was, it was easy enough to bypass. He used masking tape to cover the small glass window next to the doorknob and then broke it using the butt of the flashlight. It wasn’t completely silent, but there was no sound of glass shattering against the floor. Ready to flee at a moment’s notice, he waited to see if Danica came to investigate. When no one seemed to notice, he reached inside and discovered, much to his chagrin, that the door was unlocked.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said softly, upset with himself for not checking the door. He made a mental note to check in the future.

  He easily avoided the makeshift pot and pan alarm system and made his way into the living room. His goal was to find Danica as fast as he could, capture her if possible; kill her if not. As much as he wanted to taste her nipples, his priorities were the antibiotics and weapons. Once she was dealt with, he could take all night to search for what they needed.