Miracles

by Thomas A. Watson

  Approaching the open French doors, Arthur saw two men holding down a woman on the rear patio while another raped her. Stopping at the door, Arthur squeezed off three rapid shots and all three bodies fell onto the woman. Scanning around outside and not seeing any more people, he eased outside and kicked the body covering the woman’s face.

  The woman looked up at the shadowy figure in terror. “Don’t scream. I’m hungry as fuck and in a really bad fucking mood because Taco Bell is closed,” Arthur warned, and the woman snapped her mouth shut. “How many fuckwads inside?”

  Wiping the blood and brain matter off her face, the woman closed her eyes thinking. “Thirteen” she finally said.

  “Suck my ass,” Arthur snapped, knowing there should’ve been more gang members in the house. Almost tasting a burrito supreme, he spun around to head back inside. “If I was you, I’d stay there,” he advised.

  Squirming out from under her rapist, the woman laid prone and watched Arthur enter the house with Donald and Daisy behind him. Just the way Arthur moved with utter confidence and attitude, the woman had no doubt that he wasn’t afraid of those inside.

  Moving through the living room and into the hall, Arthur saw extension cords entering two rooms, one on each side of the hall. Reaching the first room, he saw two young men playing a video game and a young woman sitting on the couch with them smoking a joint bigger than a cigar that would’ve made Cheech and Chong envious. Lifting the rifle, Arthur squeezed the trigger while walking into the room and the woman froze when blood, brain, and bone splattered over her. But she never stopped her toke on the massive doobie.

  Seeing the woman had a pistol on her hip, Arthur squeezed the trigger when the woman finally stopped her toke and the fat one fell from the woman’s hand. She jerked as the back of her head blew out when a hollow point punched through her left eye.

  Scanning the room quickly, Arthur saw two women and a young boy tied up in the corner. Lifting a gloved finger to his lips, telling them to be quiet, Arthur turned around after one of the women had nodded. Entering the hallway, Arthur froze when the stereo went quiet. Before he could wonder why, the next song kicked in with a guitar riff being played.

  “Good album,” Arthur mumbled, hearing the crack of billiard balls from the room across the hall where more extension cords ran in to. Knowing the song, Arthur waited a few seconds until electric guitars kicked in and then he moved toward the door. His brain registered bodies around the pool table and two naked figures curled up in a ball in the left-back corner.

  Seeing a man leaning over the pool table and preparing to shoot, Arthur shot first, covering the green felt with carnage. Shifting his aim, Arthur saw the two men and one woman holding pool cues all jump, looking at the dead pool shark.

  Squeezing the trigger, the woman, already dead on her feet, started to drop when Arthur shot the man next to her. Moving his aim, he saw the last man dropping his cue stick and reaching for his waist. The back of his head exploded before his hand even touched his pistol. Scanning the left side of the room, Arthur felt Donald dart off to the right and swung his rifle to see another woman sitting on a barstool in the corner.

  Holding her hands out in front of her in a pleading gesture, the woman cringed when Donald leapt up. His body hit her chest and his mouth clamped on her throat. When the woman fell, Arthur saw a pistol on her hip and a rifle next to the barstool.

  Letting Donald handle her for now, Arthur swung his aim back across the room. Seeing that the two figures curled up were young teenage girls, Arthur cleared the rest of the room. Not finding any more threats, he held a finger to his lips when he looked at the two young women, who were just staring at him like an apparition.

  Turning around, he found Donald standing over the woman with blood dripping from his mouth while she grasped weakly at the gaping hole in her neck. Seeing Donald had ripped most of the woman’s throat out, Arthur calmly lowered his AR and aiming with one hand, punched a hole between the woman’s eyes.

  Easing back to the two girls, Arthur kept his AR pointed at the door while the dogs followed him. “Are there any dirty fucks in the basement?” he asked, then cut his eyes to the two teens.

  One slowly shook her head. “That’s where they tie us up at.”

  Changing magazines in his rifle, “I’m almost done, stay here,” Arthur said, walking out.

  With the bong still going like a volcano and entering the smoky hall, Arthur cleared the rest of the rooms, even though there were no extension cords running to them. With the first floor secure, Arthur turned the lamp off in the living room before he aimed up the stairs and paused. He waited until the next song started, then eased up the stairs.

  Following three extension cords upstairs, Arthur grumbled to see the cords going into three different rooms. “I’m so fucking hungry,” Arthur snarled, feeling his stomach grumble while he eased to the first door. Cracking it open, the smell of burnt flesh competed with the thick aroma of marijuana and he heard a muffled scream. When he scanned the room, he was able to see what the open door revealed.

  A large bed was in the room and a young woman was tied-up spread eagle, and a man and woman were laughing. Each was holding a lighter to the woman’s skin. The laughter froze in each one’s throat when Arthur squeezed the trigger twice rapidly.

  Both fell over the woman and Arthur swung his aim, clearing the rest of the room. Stepping inside, Arthur dropped his magazine and slapped in a new one. “I’ll untie you in a second,” he told the woman and headed out the door, grabbing the magazine he’d dropped.

  Entering the next room, he found two women torturing a young boy tied to a bed. The boy screamed into his gag when the women’s heads exploded, and Arthur moved into the room, not seeing any more threats. Spotting a door in the back corner, Arthur kept his aim at it while he moved to the bed and the boy continued to scream into his gag. “Shut up,” Arthur snapped and the boy stopped, realizing Arthur wasn’t there to hurt him.

  “Anyone in there?” Arthur motioned to the door and the boy nodded.

  Moving to the door and pushing it open, Arthur found a woman snorting powder off a bathroom counter by candlelight. She never saw the figure that ended her life. Clearing the bathroom, Arthur stepped back out into the room and heard the last song of the album end. “Hope they have that thing hooked to an iPod,” he mumbled, and Daisy gave a snort beside him.

  “Shit, I’ve never smelt this much dope. Not even at that Grateful Dead concert, but this is some great shit,” Arthur told Daisy. “I could eat a dozen burrito supremes right now without batting an eyelash.”

  Waiting a few seconds with no more music starting, Arthur gave a sigh and entered the hall. There were two more doors, but only one had an extension cord running under the door.

  Following the extension cord, Arthur eased the door open and saw a man and woman in the bed getting their freak nasty on. Sweeping the room and not seeing doors or anyone else, “Donald, Daisy attack,” Arthur snapped, spinning around and moving quickly to the last door.

  The man and woman screamed when the two Rottweilers leapt up on the bed. Donald grabbed the woman by the back of the neck while Daisy latched onto the man’s throat.

  Pushing the last door open, Arthur saw a man getting out of a bed and grabbing a pistol off a bedside table. Before his red dot reached the man’s face, Arthur squeezed the trigger twice to hit the man in the chest, making him stumble back and drop the pistol. Seeing two naked female bodies in the bed, Arthur swept his aim over, scanning the room while the man clawed at his chest.

  With the left side cleared, Arthur swept back over the bed and when his aim passed over the man, he squeezed the trigger to punch a hole in the man’s forehead. Seeing the two naked females clutching each other, he eased past them toward a door in the corner. “Move and you will die,” Arthur warned, pushing the door open but finding just an empty bathroom.

  Turning around Arthur moved back to the bed, aiming at the two. “Show me your wrists now,” he commanded and slo
wly, the two held out their arms and he saw rope burns on their wrists. “Get up and untie the others,” he said, heading for the hall.

  Returning to Donald and Daisy, Arthur found them sitting on the bed over two dead bodies. “Good girl, good boy. Now, heel up,” Arthur snapped.

  They leapt off the bed and Arthur stomped downstairs. Heading for the coffee table, he grabbed the heavy bong with smoke still pouring out and headed for the back door, struggling to carry the weight. “Why in the hell would you want to smoke dope when Taco Bell is closed?” he barked and tossed the bong out the back door. The bong crashed past the woman still lying prone.

  “You can get up,” Arthur told her and slowly, she stood up. “This isn’t all of them. Where the fuck is Dean? I want to rip that little bastard’s lungs out his ass!”

  Covering her breasts with one arm, the woman covered her crotch with the other. “He left with the others for Little Rock this morning,” the woman told him in a soft voice.

  “That little cocksucker,” Arthur snapped and kicked a lawn chair over. “Get dressed, and I would advise loading as much shit as you can here with the others, and leaving before that little bitch comes back.”

  The woman darted past when Arthur turned around and walked through the house, back to the front door. “Holy shit, I’ve never been this hungry! I’m willing to eat a rotting water buffalo’s ass!” he cried out, stepping on the front porch. Taking off his backpack, Arthur pulled out a roll of bailing wire.

  A rocking swing was in the front yard and he unhooked it from the metal bar, then pulled out his multi-tool. Cutting four six-foot strands of wire, Arthur wrapped one end around the bar and then put a cinch noose in the other.

  Moving to the porch, Arthur wrapped wire around the three white columns and then put cinches in them. When he walked inside, he saw two more women and a young teenaged boy he hadn’t seen moving through the house. They were standing with the others and getting dressed. “Anyone know when that little fucker Dean’s coming back?” he asked, grabbing one of the dead bodies in the living room.

  “A few days,” one answered while Arthur pulled the body outside.

  As Arthur pulled bodies out, the prisoners loaded up the pickup trucks. When the trucks were loaded, the group turned to see Arthur hanging a sign off one of the bodies on the columns. ‘The Caravan Man was here and will be back’, the sign read. They all turned to see four bodies hanging from the frame of the swing and another sign was hanging from one of the bodies. ‘Dean, the Caravan Man is coming for you. You can’t hide forever’, the sign read.

  “I’m glad he hates that evil little shit as much as I do,” one of the women said, watching Arthur walk off the porch. They were all grateful, but seeing his cold attitude and the fact he was livid and spewing a stream of curse words because he was hungry, none asked if they could go with him.

  “Don’t stay close,” Arthur warned, walking past them.

  “Thank you,” one of the young boys called out.

  “I would kill somebody or anything for a Taco Bell Grande!” Arthur shouted, then added more profanity, then paused and glanced at the boy who’d spoken. “You’re welcome.”

  As Arthur walked across the road and disappeared into the shadow of the house across the street, the group quickly piled into the trucks and cranked them up. When Arthur reached the house the two boys had snuck out of, the trucks sped down the street to leave the subdivision.

  Stopping in the front yard, Arthur turned toward the house. “Boys, you need to leave this area. I’m sure they’ll search the houses around here now.”

  Two shadows walked out of the door, heading for Arthur. “They left?” the black-haired boy asked in awe.

  “Pfft, right,” Arthur scoffed. “No, that was the prisoners they had. The slimy butt munchers that were there are dead, but I missed the sorry little shit I was after,” Arthur spat. He came to a stop; realizing one of the boys was carrying an infant that they didn’t have the first time.

  “Wow,” the other boy gasped while Arthur took his hat off and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his glove. “You really don’t like Dean.”

  Nodding and figuring the baby looked around six months, “Yeah, I love kids, but I’m going to make that little ass-wipe play my rusty trombone before I remove his lungs out of his ass with a spoon,” Arthur confessed, putting his hat back on.

  “You want him to play your trombone?” one asked clearly confused. “Is it broke?”

  Letting out a sigh, “No. I’m going to pour syrup over my asshole after I take a greasy shit and make that little bitch suck my ass as he reaches around to jack me off,” Arthur corrected, and both boys jumped back with disgusted faces once they understood where the ‘trombone’ came in. “Get out of the area,” Arthur told them, and started walking off.

  The two looked at each other for a brief second, then took off after Arthur. “Mr. Caravan Man, can we come with you? We’ve seen you getting bricks from that store and you had kids with you,” the black-haired boy begged, adjusting the baby he was carrying.

  “Please?” the other whimpered as they walked beside him, but not too close because of the two blood-covered dogs.

  “Boys, it’s not a free ride. My kids work and have to learn. My wife is the boss and I’m second in command. What we say goes,” Arthur told them. “I’ve seen others around here. Why didn’t you go with that woman?”

  “She’s more of a scaredy-cat than us,” the black-haired boy told him. “Please, it’s hard finding baby food for Allen.”

  Letting out a soft sigh, “Get behind the dogs and be quiet,” Arthur told them, and they both grinned before moving behind him.

  It was almost midnight when Arthur walked into the house, heading straight for his bedroom. “Sit,” he told the boys, pointing at the kitchen table and taking the sleeping baby. Walking into his room, Arthur saw Wendy sitting up in bed and reading. Jo Ann, Sally, Robin, and Noah were in the bed asleep, but Wendy looked up from her book and gave a startle to see the blood covering Arthur’s clothes.

  “You okay?” she asked putting down her book, and Arthur walked past the row of baby cribs and handed her a new baby before he headed to the bathroom.

  “Yes, Donald and Daisy are outside. I had to hose them down and they’re still wet. There’re two boys I found at the kitchen table,” Arthur told her, and stopped at the bathroom door. Wendy gave another startle, smelling the pungent odor of marijuana. “Will you please fix some food? I’ll forgo the sex payment if you make any Mexican entrée. You fix me a few burrito supremes, I’ll get you some moon rocks.”

  Laughing while she got out of bed carefully, “Get cleaned up and I’ll see what I can do,” Wendy grinned, putting the baby on the bed and surrounding him with pillows. “That’s some potent shit,” she noted as Arthur walked in the bathroom.

  “I was all for legalizing marijuana, but not that shit. I walked in that house and the first thing I wanted to do was look for food,” Arthur confessed before shutting the door.

  Walking into the kitchen, Wendy smiled at the two boys. “Welcome,” she told them and saw both relax, giving big sighs of relief.

  Chapter Three

  Holy shit, Ants!

  Feeling Nicole move on his chest, Arthur cracked his right eye open to find her chewing on her fist. “Already?” Arthur yawned, reaching over to the bedside table.

  “She’s been awake for a half an hour, just laying contently on your chest,” Wendy said beside him.

  When his hand felt a bottle, Arthur grabbed it while he turned and saw Wendy sitting up in bed, feeding a baby a bottle. Blinking his eyes and staring at the baby for a few seconds, Arthur thought it was Lucas. Dropping his gaze to the line of kids between them, “I swear, Jo Ann and Sally are MMA fighters,” Arthur declared, pushing his body up until he could lean back against the headboard. “I thought Robin was bad, but one actually crawled under me last night.”

  Glancing over at Arthur, “That’s Jo Ann beside you,” Wendy t
old him.

  “I don’t know if it was her. They’re both wearing the same thing,” Arthur huffed while he fed Nicole her bottle.

  Taking the empty bottle from Lucas, Wendy put him on her chest before patting his back. “Arthur, did you check on the pastor’s dogs? If they’re there, we should get ‘em.”

  Nodding as he yawned again, “Yeah, I checked on everyone’s house that we know and lives close. The only reason I left the pastor’s Rotts was his truck wasn’t there. I fed what animals I could, except the Werner farm. I just let the chickens out.”

  Slowly, Wendy turned to Arthur in shock. “You let thirty thousand chickens out?”

  “Be damned if I was bringing them here, and I bet half were already dead. Their chickens didn’t fare as well as ours did against the flu,” Arthur told her. “How does the new baby look?”

  “Actually pretty well for two twelve-year-old boys tending it. He’s a little thin and has a bad diaper rash,” Wendy told him. When Lucas let out a small burp, Wendy stopped patting his back and rubbed it. “Good boy,” she said softly.

  “That was a pussy burp,” Arthur huffed.

  “Arthur!” Wendy snapped coldly. “Keep on, and if one of the little ones repeat your words, you’ll get the same thing you got when Joseph did it.”

  Looking down at Nicole contently suckling her bottle, “That was a good punch,” Arthur smiled at Nicole, and she smiled around the bottle nipple. “Thank you for the burritos last night. Sorry I didn’t help examine the kids, I was starving.”

  Remembering Arthur shoving the first two burritos she’d made for him in his mouth and then licking his plate, Wendy couldn’t help but chuckle. “You were scaring our newest kids,” Wendy told him. “How many buttheads did you get last night?”