by Urban, Tony
Barbara stepped towards her, knowing somewhere in her consciousness that she should help, but the burning woman was already too far gone. She collapsed, flailing and thrashing, screaming and bawling.
Before she could be the next person lit up, Barbara picked up her pace, scrambling for cover. Around her was more screaming, both in pain and panic, but intermixed with their cries she heard feet moving.
A glance backward, toward the desert, revealed wild men and women climbing over the fence. Breaching, and breaking, the safety the walls provided.
Twenty yards away a rifle went off. Ten shots, maybe fifteen. It was the other night guard. But any relief was short-lived when Barb saw a half-dozen cannibals scramble onto his platform and attack.
One of the savages cut his throat while another disemboweled him. Two of the cannibals grabbed hold of his spilled guts and gnawed away like it was rope sausage.
Barbara saw one of the attackers digging at Carlos’ waist, then jerk his hand free with a fistful of keys. He raced to the main gate and worked at the lock.
I must get someone, Barbara thought. I must tell someone what’s happening so they can stop this.
She turned, ready to sprint back to the casino but it was too late. Two of the invaders latched hold of her arms. She could feel their long, ragged fingernails digging into her flesh, then a pop, then warm blood oozing down her skin.
Barbara strained to break free, but the two captors were stronger, more desperate. Then she saw a third striding her way. It carried a white spear which now, closer, she realized was a femur. One end had been sharpened to a point, ready and able to impale her.
Her mind flashed back to the old house in Maine, the first time she experienced an attack like this. Except now her sons were nowhere around and Trooper was dead. This time she would lose more than an eye.
But the man ready to end her crumpled forward. His spear skittered across the pavement, stopping near her feet. She looked past it and found--
Richard’s handsome face. It was dotted with black blood and she saw a spade shovel gripped in his hands. He swung the shovel, the blade colliding with the face of one of the cannibals who held her.
The metal hit just below the savage’s cheek, cleaving his face in half as it shattered off his upper teeth which rained to the ground like ivory shrapnel.
Maybe shocked, maybe scared, the other cannibal who’d been holding Barbara let go and she didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees, grabbed the spear, and spun around.
The femur sunk deep into the man’s waist. His hands clawed at the bone, trying to free it from his abdomen, but Barbara gave it another push. He grunted out, “Bitch” as he tumbled sideways.
“If you wanted to get my attention, I can think of easier ways.” Richard extended his hand and pulled her to her feet. Even with fires burning all around them and people screaming out, he could still crack jokes. It helped to calm her nerves, a little.
His calloused hand squeezed her arm, reassuring. He pushed her towards the casino, toward safety, but stopped. Barbara looked back at him. His mouth was open, but not to speak. Instead to unleash a torrent of blood.
A spear jutted from the back of his skull. His eyes met hers for a moment. Recognition flashed. Faded. Disappeared.
Barbara unleashed a scream as Richard fell, collapsing into her. She tried to hold him up, as if the act of keeping him on his feet would keep him alive, but he was too heavy, and his body slithered down hers before crumpling into the asphalt.
When she looked from the man she was falling in love with, the man she’d already thought of as her future, she found his killer. He wore a wild, bestial grin that revealed broken teeth. His tongue licked across them. Lustful. Hungry.
“You’re uglier than my second wife,” he said. “But she fucked like a wildcat. How ‘bout you?”
Maybe it was the look on his face. Or the fact that her happiness and safety had once again been stolen. Or just because the bastard had called her ugly, but something inside snapped. Barbara dove at him and her sudden fury shocked the man so much he did nothing to stop her.
Her hands latched onto the cannibal’s face. Her thumbs found his eyes. Barbara screamed as she pushed her digits into the sockets and no matter how much the man thrashed to shake her loose, she refused to let go.
The man’s left eye popped out of his skull and dangled there like a yoyo at the end of the line. He grabbed it with his grimy fingers and tried to shove it back into the socket, but while he was distracted Barbara ripped the spear from the dead man’s chest, spun around, and impaled the cannibal through the groin.
His dying howl was unlike anything she’d imagined and, as she watched blood gush from his pelvis, she couldn’t suppress a manic cackle of glee.
Then, a new sound came into focus. Bullets firing in all directions. She looked back to the casino and found Alexander rushing toward her and shooting past her all at the same time. When he got to her side, he paused for barely a moment.
“You okay?”
She wasn’t. But she nodded anyway.
He shoved her toward the building. “Get inside. I’ll cover you.”
That time, she listened.
Chapter 26
It seemed like fireworks exploding all around them. The climax as he thrusted on top of Allie felt dreamlike and somehow even better than the first time, they were together.
She’d come to him earlier that evening and, as was becoming their normal, they argued. Argued about the boy who’s been executed so barbarically. Argued about Seth. Argued about Papa and the people at the casino. But the fire stoked by their back and forth raging turned into an inferno of passion.
It almost feels cliched, Wyatt thought as their sweat-slicked bodies clung to one another, their rapid heartbeats in sync. Like the couples in movies that fight then fuck. He’d always groaned when he saw that happen on screen. Turns out, real life was much better.
“Wow.” Wyatt tried to catch his breath and say something more, but another loud bang ripped through the air and he realized it wasn’t them after all; that was an actual explosion.
“What the hell?” Allie asked, raising her head off the pillow. He rolled off her, cool air replacing the space between them. In the moment they were silent, gunshots echoed outside.
Supper jumped to his feet beside the bed, barking.
Wyatt’s nirvana-like ecstasy vanished as he realized what was happening. “It’s an attack!” A chorus of screams confirmed his assessment.
“Attacked?” Allie parroted, but Wyatt didn’t hear her as he yanked his jeans up and zipped them. He reached for his shirt which was in a pile with Allie’s clothes.
“What are you doing?” She slipped her naked body free of the covers.
“I’m going to help.”
“Please don’t, Wyatt. You can’t leave!”
Wyatt ignored her protests, turning his attention to the dog. “Supper, you stay and protect her.”
Supper bounced onto the bed, planting himself between the two humans as Wyatt opened the hotel room door. He checked the hall in both directions. Empty.
“Wyatt don’t go out there. You don’t even got a gun! Wyatt looked back at her and put a finger to his lips. “Lock the door behind me.”
He moved into the hall, easing the door closed in a barely audible click, then moved toward the source of the violence.
Through windows he saw fires raging outside, people running. Some were desperate and panicked. Some calculated and fighting. Muffled screams and shouts and explosions seeped into the building.
As he slipped through an exit, Wyatt strained to listen for voices he recognized, but then he saw the carnage. The bodies of the people he had met not long ago were on the ground, their faces now vacant and gray and bloody.
There were other bodies too, skinny, dirty corpses with tattered clothing. Cannibals. He saw a spear honed from human bone lying beside one of them and grabbed it as he passed by.
A scream came from close by, b
ut just out of view. Wyatt turned and followed the direction of the sound and it was only a dozen paces before he spotted two cannibals. They loomed over someone on the ground, attacking.
“Hey!” Wyatt gripped the spear, readying himself.
The cannibals spun his direction and galloped at him, wild and frantic. The taller of the two, a man who looked like Frankenstein with anorexia, clutched a hatchet. His long strides helped him reach Wyatt first and he swung the weapon sidearm in a wide arc.
Wyatt dropped to his knees to avoid having his head taken off. As the hatchet sliced through the air above him, he rammed the spear into the tall cannibal’s frail chest, burying it between rows of ribs. The man took two staggering steps backward, taking the spear with him and leaving Wyatt unarmed.
Which wasn’t good because the second wild man, a red-haired bastard with a braided beard that hung halfway to his concave stomach, was on him. The man tackled Wyatt like a linebacker, and both hit the ground in a rolling, flailing heap.
The stink of the man, a sour mixture of rot and B.O. from hell, was enough to make Wyatt’s guts contract as he fought to keep down his dinner. But he had the advantage because he was well-fed and strong.
The cannibal felt light as a sack of flour as Wyatt hurled him to the side where he crashed into a ceramic planter which housed a cactus. The pot fell over and onto the cannibal who wailed as scores of needles punctured his skin.
Wyatt glanced sideways where the tall cannibal remained upright but was beyond fighting. The man had dropped his hatchet in a vain attempt to use his hands to try to pull the spear from his chest and Wyatt lunged for it.
He grabbed the weapon and turned back to the smaller cannibal who was preoccupied with plucking the barbs from his face and neck. He didn’t even notice Wyatt coming until the hatchet was already embedded in his skull.
Wyatt jerked it free and the man fell to the ground where he bled out. Then he continued toward the lifeless lump of a person who the two cannibals had been mauling before his arrival. Even though she was face down he recognized the white coat, the majority of which was now deep crimson with blood. To be sure she was gone, he rolled her onto her back.
It was Ramona Sidaris, the doctor who had given him the tetanus shot. A ragged bite had been taken out of her face. Another had excised a chunk of flesh from her neck. She was gone.
He almost left her but noticed the keyring on her belt. He knew all the community’s medical supplies were locked up and couldn’t risk letting those be stolen, so he pulled off the keys and dropped them into his pocket before moving on.
When he reached the front gates, Wyatt realized how unprepared the community was for this attack. Alexander’s group of protectors seemed to have control of the situation now, but the body count belied the horror of what came before their arrival.
The corpses of dozens of men and women littered the ground. Some had been hacked to pieces. Some burned and smoldered. And some, although not enough, where cannibals who bled from gunshot wounds.
In his peripheral vision he saw his mother running inside the main entrance, then he found Alexander a few yards away, rifle at his shoulder, ensuring none of the savages got close.
He breathed a little easier seeing that his mother was safe, but his mind immediately shifted to Seth. He had no way of knowing if any cannibals had breached the casino, but he had to find out. Despite his revulsion over Seth setting the boy on fire, Wyatt wasn’t going to let anything happen to his brother. He wasn’t going to lose another member of his family.
Chapter 27
Rosario gripped Seth’s shoulder so tight it hurt. He wanted to shake it away, but felt he had to accept the pain. To be brave. To be a man, as the saying went.
But he wasn’t a man. He was sixteen years old and so scared he had to keep a vise grip on his asshole to keep from shitting his pants.
He could feel the woman, his woman, trembling, and tried to think of words to placate her. To alleviate her fear. “We’ll be fine,” he said. “The protectors will never let them into the casino.”
That was little solace, even if true, because people were being slaughtered outside. Many, from the sound of it. The screams serenaded them like music from a Puccini opera and Seth had a sickening feeling this was a losing battle.
It’s not supposed to be like this, Seth thought. Papa promised safety and we did everything God wanted, so why was this happening? Could this really be part of some grander plan?
Before he could put too much thought into it there was a bang against their hotel room door. A gasping voice followed. “Seth!”
“Was that Papa?” He asked Rosario.
She stared at the door with wide, fear-filled eyes, still not releasing him. “I don’t know.”
Seth couldn’t take any chances. If Papa needed him, it was his duty to come. Because even if Papa believed Seth would be the man to lead this community, he wasn’t ready yet. There was too much to do. Too much to learn.
He slipped free of Rosario’s grasp and wheeled himself to the door. When he reached to unlock it, his hand trembled and he focused, trying to steady himself, to not let his beautiful, perfect girlfriend see his weakness.
He opened the door and pushed himself halfway into the hall. It was empty. And silent.
“Close the door! Now!” Rosario said, the fear in her voice escalating.
He turned to her and smiled. “We’re fine. No one’s there.”
As soon as the last word left his mouth, Seth was pulled out of the room. A deranged face stared down at him. The mouth was contorted into a gleeful leer. Like a man who’d just been delivered the world’s tastiest steak.
“Lock the door, Rosario!” Seth yelled as he clawed at the man’s face. Under his fingers he could feel slick blood, dirt, and grease.
The man cannibal swiped at him with a large dagger. Seth leaned sideways just in time to dodge the blade which plunged through the leather wheelchair seat. Where his non-existent leg would have been.
For the first time since being maimed, Seth was grateful for having only one leg.
As the cannibal jerked the dagger free, a shower of shattered ceramic cascaded over the both of them. The man went limp, falling face first into Seth’s lap, unconscious.
Seth looked over this shoulder and found Rosario holding the remnants of a destroyed lamp. “Thank you,” he said.
She flashed a nervous, but still stunning smile. “Any time.”
Seth grabbed fistfuls of the cannibal’s filthy, matted hair and pushed him away. He landed on the floor with a heavy thud. He was eager to return to the safety of the room, but Rosario stepped past him, toward the cannibal.
“I think he’s out,” Seth said.
Rosario nodded. “He is. But he’s still alive.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folding hunting knife.
“Rosie, you don’t--”
She didn’t wait for him to finish, instead flicking the knife open and crouching over the fallen cannibal. His dazed eyes stared up at her, unseeing, as she slammed the blade into his throat. A small fountain of blood shot up and out of the wound and the man seemed to come around at the worst possible time - for him.
As she stabbed him again and again and again Seth’s gaze shifted back and forth between his girlfriend to the dying man whose arms and legs twitched in helpless horror. He was shocked but impressed. And he realized that Papa hadn’t just brought the two of them together solely because she was beautiful, but because she was powerful and relentless. His own sexy bodyguard. He felt himself getting hard and shifted in his seat to hide it.
When Rosario stopped stabbing the man, she looked back at Seth with a blood-splattered face and blazing eyes. Seth wasn’t sure whether he should thank her or drag her into the bedroom for a frantic fuck but before he could make up his mind, pounding footsteps stole his attention.
He braced himself, turning toward the noise, and saw his brother sprinting up the hall. Seth wanted to tell him he was too late, that Wyatt didn�
��t need to ride to the rescue this time.
Then he heard Papa bellow in pain.
Chapter 28
Wyatt glanced at the dead cannibal on the floor. It looked as if the entirety of the man’s blood had drained into the carpet, painting a scarlet pattern through the fiber. All he cared about was that the man was dead.
Once that was confirmed he grabbed onto the handles of Seth’s wheelchair and shoved him toward his room, ignoring Seth’s pleas to stop.
“We have to help Papa.” Seth tried to stop the wheels from moving but Wyatt didn’t pause, not caring if he broke his brother’s fingers in the process.
“I will. You’re staying in your room.” He knew Seth would hate him for this. For treating him like a child. Like an invalid. But that didn’t matter if he stayed alive.
“Stop it,” Seth said as he thrashed in the chair.
Wyatt had him through the doorway and gave another hard shove that sent him five feet inside the room. Then he turned to Rosario. “If you let him out of here and anything happens, I’ll kill you.”
The woman nodded. Maybe Seth didn’t grasp the seriousness of the situation, but she did.
Seth had already spun his chair toward the door. “Fuck your hero shit, Wyatt, I’m--”
Wyatt backed out of the room and slammed the door. He heard it lock and breathed a bit easier as he moved one room up, where Papa’s door hung ajar.
Fearing a trap, Wyatt peeked into the darkened space. He strained, trying to discern whether someone waited behind the door. Waited to attack.
All he could hear were grunts and groans and occasional chatter deeper inside. He squeezed his palm around the handle of the hatchet and slipped through the opening.
There was no trap. But there was certain and immediate danger. Papa’s guards, the braindead bruiser twins, laid dead on the linoleum. One had been stabbed to the death. The other has his head caved in. Despite Wyatt’s misgivings toward the men, they didn’t deserve that.