Rachel’s lip shook as she watched the blood drip from the end of the bat.
“Yes? No? It doesn’t really matter anyway!” Jumping, he slammed the bat down into Billie’s stomach. Holding it upside down, he rammed the bat down between her legs and back into her stomach.
Tears ran down Rachel’s face and she spit up some vomit.
Billie’s screams and the scent of her blood filled the air.
Morgan laughed as he kicked her in the jaw and bashed her across the face with the bat, killing her as the nails pierced through her skull.
Morgan looked to Rachel. “Fuck, you’re as pale as a ghost! More so than you already were.”
She watched the pool of blood grow.
“We’re almost done here, but what kind of a point would be made if I just let you walk? Without so much as a scratch?”
He twirled the bat and smiled. “NO EXCEPTIONS!” He underhand swung the bat beside her head, and the nails sliced the left side of her face.
He laughed as she grabbed her face and fell on her side, screaming and trying to hold back tears.
“It’s been a while since my vampire bat took a bath in water, you’ll wanna hope no monster goo was on any of those nails that scared your face like you did my throat!”
He turned and looked to Davey. “Take her to the hospital, keep a gun on her, when she’s done, toss her in a cell.” He looked at her and grinned as he swung the bat onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you later tonight.”
Much later, the jail area of the base
He got up and walked over to the bars, watching as Davey drug in a new prisoner by the rope around her arms. She was completely naked and had a large bandage on the left side of her face.
He squinted his eyes and leaned on the bars. “Who’s she?” he asked, spitting on the floor.
Davey laughed. “An old friend of yours!” He turned her around and held her head up. “Been a while, right? Remember her? It’s John’s kid.”
“What’d you do to her?”
Davey smiled as Norman glared at him. Cutting the rope from her arms, he threw her in the cell and locked the door.
Turning around, he began walking away and stopped when Norman spoke up.
“She gonna die?”
Davey looked back and smirked.
“Just answer the fuckin’ question!”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t look like it, but you never know with Morgan!”
Opening her eyes, she saw Norman staring at her. “You’re alive,” she said with a smile.
“What’d you do?”
“I tried to kill him again.”
The two went to the end of the cell and sat beside each other, against the wall and the bars.
Norman held his arm up in between the bars, and Rachel took his hand. “How’s your face?”
“Numb, but I’m sure it’ll hurt like hell soon enough.”
Norman sat silently, thinking about the last time he and John were in there together, relishing the touch of another person that wasn’t painful. He looked at her, and all he could think about was John, worried Rachel was next to go.
Her grip on his hand tightened. “He killed Billie.”
He remained silent.
“Right before hitting me, he beat her to death with it...”
The next morning
Light shined into the jail as the doorway swung open, and Morgan strutted in with a smile and a gun.
He whistled as he approached her cell.
She got up and walked up to the bars. “What now?”
He glanced at Norman who was sitting up on the floor, glaring at him. “I wouldn’t wanna ruin the surprise, would I?”
She shook her head.
“Alrighty then, same page.”
Pulling out the key, he unlocked her cell and opened the door. “Come on, kid, we’re goin’ on a walk!”
She glanced at Norman as she walked out.
Morgan held his pistol in her face. “See this?”
She nodded.
He pushed the pistol against her cheek and laughed. “How’s your face?” he asked as he holstered it.
“It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
She shook her head.
“Well it should. Because if it doesn’t, we’ll make it.”
“Wh-”
He back handed her, making Norman jump up.
Morgan looked at him and laughed as Rachel held her face. “Sit the fuck down.”
“What’re you gonna do to her?”
He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll make her sink her teeth into you if you don’t shut the fuck up and mind your own god damn business.”
He turned to Rachel and laughed. “Let’s go!”
Grabbing a fist full of her hair, he began walking her out of the jail.
Heading upstairs, Morgan took her to his meeting room and sat her across from him at the long table.
“How old were you when shit hit the fan?”
“Why?”
“Answer my fucking question.”
“...Ten.”
“...Do you know how babies are made?”
She lowered her brows and nodded.
“So you know they don’t come from your asshole.”
She nodded.
Morgan grinned. “Remember when I had you and your daddy on the floor?” He laughed. “Well Lydia tells me you’ve got a little Miller swimmin’ around inside there.”
She stared at the table in silence.
“I’m not a bad guy, Rachel. I don’t kill kids, and I sure as fuck don’t beat pregnant women- I mean I slapped the bitch out of your face, but that was an impulse thing. No, I don’t wanna hurt you- and as a matter of fact I won’t- until this baby gets out.”
She looked at him as she trembled. “What’s gonna happen?”
“First, lose the shit on your face- I wanna see you when I’m talking to you.”
She lifted her shivering hand and peeled the giant bandage from the side of her face, revealing three long slices. The whole side of her face was red and purple, and the wounds were stitched and clean.
Morgan laughed. “You’re a lot like Hershel in terms of the respect I have for you. Hershel was a badass mother fucker who would rip the skin off a man’s face and shove it up his dick hole if he thought that’s what I wanted. And you? You slit my throat, tried to trick me, and kill me again. You’re brave, you’re strong, and you’re who I want taking his place.”
“Y- You still want me here?”
“At least while you’ve got a baby in your stomach, yeah. Consider this your time limit, and when this baby comes, if you and I aren’t as tight as me and Davey, you’ll be right there with Hershel.”
She nodded.
“Because of your current, situation, I’m giving you a hard, but safe job. As you know, the Argentina Safe Zone is now empty, and we’ve been keeping an eye on it. So far we’ve only ever killed a few Tribuals that we caught sniffing around, but nothing serious. What I want to do is establish a base of operations in there, and I need someone in charge.”
“You’re putting me in charge of your new base?”
He grinned and let out a laugh. “You’ll be building that new base.”
“Why?”
“I just fucking explained this shit. I respect you enough that I’m trying to give you another chance while you’re pregnant. But by all means, if you don’t wanna do this, and you wanna join Billie instead, just say the fucking word. I have no problem locking you up for however many months you have left.”
After a few minutes of silence, Rachel looked up at him. “Can I have something?”
“You’re seriously about to ask me for shit?”
“Please?”
“What?”
“Norman.”
Morgan grinned and licked his teeth. He let out a chuckle and shook his head. “You’re a fucking dumbass.”
"What?”
“That right there, you don’t do what you just d
id. Because now, we found your incentive!”
Chapter 27:
Days Gone
The Cascadia hospital, when John went for help.
As John talked with a woman, a man ran in with a pistol. “Where’s Peter Solomon?”
The woman grabbed her chest. “Oh my!”
The man stared at her for a moment and raised his brows. “Hey,” he said, pointing his gun at her. “You’re that Queen Magdalene bitch! You run the Divine clowns, don’t you?”
Janey put her hand on her pistol and glanced at John.
John spit some blood on the floor and stood up straight. “Leave.”
The man took one look at John and laughed. “Fuck off, retard.”
The man charged at Magdalene, and as he reached her, John jumped, tackling him to the floor.
He sunk his teeth into the man’s throat and ripped out a chunk of flesh, spitting it back in his face.
The queen gagged. Covering her eyes, she swallowed her vomit. “You- Jonathan, you saved my life!”
John looked up at her, his mouth gaped open, blood running out. “Don’t...” he said, rocking back and forth as he leaned on the body. “Don’t, mention it,” he said as everything turned black.
• • •
He jerked up and gasped. He was on a small blue blowup mattress in an unfamiliar room.
It was small with no windows and a lot of medical supplies and equipment. A sign on the back of the door read quarantine, and there were two other mattresses, one of them occupied.
John turned his head to the mattress to his right and jumped up, instinctively reaching for his holster, but all he was dressed in was a light blue hospital gown.
On the bed was a woman, her nose red, lip crusted in snot. She had a cough, presumably suffering from the common cold. Her long brown hair was tied back, and she was dressed in blue jeans and a white tank top.
There was a man sitting beside her on the floor. He wore dirty blue overalls, no shirt, and a clown mask. It looked like a white hockey mask with a green wig and a big red nose attached.
“Wh- what are you?” John asked.
The woman rubbed her eyes and looked at him. “Sick,” she mumbled. “You are too. Sit down until the doc gets back.”
John stood, rubbing his side as if he’d eventually find his holster. He stared at the masked man.
“He’s my brother,” she told him. “People ‘round here call him Jester.”
“P- people? Around here- where are we?”
“It’s okay, guy. We’re in the infirmary of the museum. It belongs to the Divine. They’re nice people.”
Jester nodded.
“Where’s my stuff?”
She shrugged and pointed to a box at the foot of his mattress. “If you had anything with you it’d be in that.”
Going to the small cardboard box, he ripped it open to find a pair of black jeans, a brown t-shirt, and his belt and holster.
“My weapons, they’re not in here.”
“They’d be in storage till they figure out if you’re good or not. I saw the King when you were brought in. He told them to treat you for somethin’.”
He stared at her and nodded as he put his jeans on under his gown. “Tuberculosis.”
“Where are you goin’?” she asked.
“Wakin’ up in a supply closet isn’t exactly how I imagined this to go. I need to see it for myself.”
Taking off his gown, he slipped on his shirt and went for the door.
“See you later, Savior.”
He looked at her confused. “What?”
“Savior. It’s what he called you when he brought you in.”
“John,” he told her.
“Holly.”
Leaving the infirmary and exiting the hall, he walked out to the main room of the museum. His eyes widened, and mouth gaped open.
The floor, a mix of white tiles and red carpets. The marble walls were decorated in gold trim, famous paintings, and swords. There were statues of knights and bears. Giant marble pillars held up the curved painted ceiling, and at the farthest end of the room, two twisting staircases, meeting in the middle and leading to the second level.
He looked around at all the men, women, and children. Some dressed in riot gear, some in medieval armor, and others in everyday clothes. They talked, they smiled, they lived.
Looking around, he caught a glimpse of Queen Magdalene, her long hair hanging down her back. She wore a black dress and a white fur scarf. She looked to be talking to the King, judging by his fancy red robe and crown.
Continuing to scan the room, he froze and smiled. Janey. She stood in a corner, talking to a woman dressed in dirty metal armor. In one hand a glass of wine, and on her face, a smile.
John rubbed his face and backed into the hall, bumping into Holly and making him jump. “Hey!”
She laughed. “You’re not supposed to be out of quarantine, shoulda told you that. What you got is really dangerous, they don’t want it spreading.”
He looked back to the room of people and back to her. “What do you got?”
“The flu.”
“And the clown?”
“Nothin’. He’s just real protective of me, saw a stranger was sent in and decided to stay and keep watch,” she said with a laugh, wiping her nose with her arm.
“Come on,” she said, putting her arm around him. “We’ll get the nurse to get us somethin’ to eat.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
After going back to quarantine, the nurse brought them some soup and left.
“So where’d you come from?” Holly asked, sitting cross legged on her mattress, facing John.
“Indiana, a group called Argentina.”
As he took his first mouthful of soup and slurped down the chicken broth, his eye watered. “Shit.” He licked his lips and stared at the vegetables floating in the broth. “I can’t tell you the last time I had somethin’ to eat besides dog food or garbage.”
Holly laughed. “Argentina sounds good.”
“No, that wasn’t them, it was another place. I was kept as a slave by this guy, Morgan. All I ever got was dog food or the stuff his people dropped on the floor, stepped, and spit in.”
“Sounds rough.”
He lifted his stump and shrugged. “Well it definitely wasn’t easy. And when I’m done here, I’ll be throwin’ myself right back into it.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s insane! Is that how you lost your eye too?”
“No, it happened in a fight with a guy. This group called the Harbor. He got my eye and I ended up killin’ ‘em all.”
Her jaw dropped. “That was you?”
Jester lifted his head. Putting down his bowl he stared at John.
“Yeah. I burnt some of them, shot most of them... I killed a few I wish I coulda saved, but in the end, I did what I knew had to be done, and I got rid of them.”
She hit Jester’s arm and looked at John. “You tell the King that story and I bet he’ll give you some of the meds for free. The guy who took down the Harbor is a hero around here, you’re loved by these people and they don’t even know who you are!”
John let out a laugh and chugged some of his broth. “How about you, Holly, Jester. Where’re you from?”
“Well if the mask wasn’t a dead giveaway, we came from a really weird group of guys. Me and Chuck rode with them back when they used to be a motorcycle gang, but when people stared eating each other, they got really deep into that shit. They’d kill ‘em for sport, for fun, toss ‘em off houses, see how much they could flush... Eventually we left when we got lost and found this place.”
John looked to Jester. “You talk?”
He shook his head.
“He does sometimes. But not a whole lot. He did it in the beginning to get used to sneaking around without attracting attention and it stuck to him. Unless he has to, or unless he reeeally wants to, you ain’t gonna hear him say boo.”
After drinking the rest of his broth and fi
nishing his vegetables, he slipped off his shirt and grabbed his gown off the floor.
Holly rubbed the front of her pants, staring at John’s hairy chest and abs.
After slipping on his gown, he took off his jeans and relaxed on the bed. “You guys been here long?”
Holly kept staring at John, moving her jaw back and forth.
Jester smacked her in the arm and pointed to him.
“Oh, what?”
“How long have you been here?”
She looked to Jester and shrugged. “I think we got here twenty-’leven.”
He nodded. “Sometime last year then? What do you think of the place?”
“It’s great. Real stupid ‘cause all the people only carry stuff like swords, but it’s good. Likely to get ‘emselves killed, but there ain’t nobody without their flaws.”
John looked to her brother. “Jester?”
He gave him a thumbs up.
Probably the most I’m getting' outta you.
The next morning, John awoke to a man tightening something on his arm, and found the top half of his gown pulled down. He pulled away and sat up. “What-”
“Look!” the man said, backing away and pointing at John’s stump.
Looking at his arm, he saw a black, metal-like material, slid up to the bend of his elbow that rounded off at the end. A band went across his bicep that held the metal piece to his arm, and attached to the band were straps, going around his back.
“How did you-”
“I’m surprised you didn’t wake up sooner,” he said, snorting and sliding his glasses up. “King Fedrick had it made for you.”
“Why would the Ki-”
“When It's time for you to start repaying your debt to him he wants you to be able to fight. That means being able to attach things like swords, knives, or other things to your stump for extra protection. Turning a weakness into a strength.”
John nodded and rubbed the round end of the armor piece. “That was really nice of him. Tell him I said thank you.”
“You can tell him yourself soon enough.” Getting up, the man headed for the door. “Take it easy, you’ll be back on your feet in no time. If we didn’t think that, we wouldn’t be trying.”
As the man left, Holly sat up and stared at John. “What’s it do?”
When Was? (Book 2): Who Are You Acquainted With? Page 23