Hamsikker 3

by Russ Watts

  Jonas stood up straight, and looked Javier in the eye. “Where are they?” Without Dakota or his child, he only had Janey and his three little nephews left. If they were gone, what was there? He had to know. He had to find a reason to keep going. He had to make sure Javier hadn’t killed them, too, or worse still, have them locked up somewhere.

  “You know why I’m here? You think you know me?” Javier bent down and pulled the poker from his foot. He grimaced with pain as it slid up through his foot, scraping along the bone as he took it out. “Fuck. I’ve got to say that really does sting.” Javier threw the poker aside, and shoved Jonas toward the dining room. “Put your hands on your head, and get in there. Move it.”

  Jonas slowly raised his hands, and placed them on his head. He took a look at Dakota’s lifeless body, and then turned and walked into the next room. Erik’s body was still where he had left it. Everywhere he looked there was death. He couldn’t block it out anymore. Dakota wasn’t coming back. She wasn’t going to smile at him, kiss him, hold him, or fight with him ever again. He would rather she hated him and be alive than be cold and dead.

  Javier shoved the gun into Jonas’s back. “Across the room you’ll find a staircase. We’re going to meet your sister.”

  With the gun at his back, Jonas crossed the room and found the stairs. Was Janey really up there? Had Javier killed her like he had Erik? Had he tied her up just so he could kill her in front of Jonas? The steps were covered in a thin, worn brown carpet, and the staircase creaked as he ascended. Reaching the upper floor, Jonas began to detect a change in the air. It was cloying, thicker, and just smelt wrong. It wasn’t just the dampness. A powerful smell permeated the air infusing the house with a heavy atmosphere that was both sweet and sickly at the same time. It was then that Jonas knew Janey was dead. Javier wasn’t bringing him up here to be reunited with her. Javier wanted to show him, to destroy any last semblance of hope that Jonas still clung to.

  “In there.” Javier pushed open a door, and Jonas stepped inside.

  Instantly they were hit by the smell. Lazy flies, idling in the still air, buzzed around the corpse’s head, and Jonas put a hand over his mouth.

  Janey’s hands were still wrapped around the shotgun. On the floor, her body was slumped against a wall, her legs spread-eagled, and behind where her head should be just the splattered remnants of her brain. Hair and bone decorated the wall, and the blood splatter reached up to the ceiling. The white bedspread had soaked in much of the spray, and Jonas didn’t need to examine the body to know it was her. The photographs around the room told him he was in the right place. It was a woman’s room, and her clothes were still piled on a chair, a dress hanging on a lonely hanger above the drapes. There was a picture on the bedside table of her with Jonas and Erik when they were younger. All three of them were smiling, and the sun was shining. Jonas could still remember when his mother had taken that photo. He could still remember when they were happy, but it was a long time ago. At least his mother hadn’t lived to see Janey like this.

  Jonas had never felt more wretched. In the space of five minutes he had lost his wife, his child, and his sister. There was a part of him that couldn’t process it all, that refused to accept what he was seeing; yet he knew it was all too real, and that he had not only been too slow to save Dakota, but too late to save Janey. He had failed them all. He had come here to start again. It was supposed to be a new start for him and Dakota. He thought they would be safe here, but he was wrong. Javier was right. The world he thought he knew was long gone. It wasn’t just America, nor Canada, but everything, and every person; God had truly abandoned his children.

  “I can’t claim credit for her,” said Javier. “She was like that before I came along.”

  For once Javier was telling the truth. Jonas could tell Janey had been dead a long time. Several weeks, probably, if not months. A cobweb stretched from the tip of the shotgun to Janey’s chest where a thin legged spider fed on a bluebottle it had recently captured.

  How long had she held out? How long had she thought about killing herself? What was so bad that she had felt compelled to end it instead of taking her chances? Jonas wanted to pick her up, to tell her it was okay, and that he would never leave her again. He wanted so much to tell her that their father was dead, and that he was here for her now. He wanted her to meet Dakota and tell her that he was finally going to be a father.

  But he couldn’t say a word. Jonas could only stare at his dead sister and wonder how it had come to this. Where was the girl he grew up with who used to pull his hair? Where was the awkward teenager who used to flirt with Erik? Where was the beautiful girl who had become a mother and raised three sons.

  The children.

  Jonas turned around and faced Javier. “Where are they? Have you seen them?”

  “I assume you’re talking about the boys from the photographs? They were Janey’s then?”

  “Yes. Look, just tell me where they are. You can do what you like with me, I don’t care anymore, Javier. You’re right. I can’t fight you. I can’t win. But please, please, just let me get my three nephews out of here. Christ, how have they survived on their own?”

  Javier stood clear of the doorway and hurried Jonas through, back to the top of the staircase. He had known grief, and could see Hamsikker was hurting. That was just how he needed him: weak and vulnerable. “They’re outside. Go back down through the kitchen and skirt around the house to the left. You’ll find them in the garden.” His foot was still bleeding, and Javier was in pain. He knew Hamsikker wasn’t about to run off. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  Jonas saw that Javier had lowered his gun. He could use this opportunity to fight back. He could ambush Javier and get some payback for everything that he’d done.

  Heading down the steps, Jonas decided that Javier would wait. He needed to make things right first. This little red house had not been the safe haven he had hoped it would be. It harbored death and disease in every room. What had Ritchie, Mike, and Chester gone through? How had they coped with their mother gone?

  Heading back through the kitchen, Jonas couldn’t help but glance at Dakota. She was exactly as he had left her, still slumped over the table. He would bury her before the day was over. She deserved at least that.

  Back outside, the air was cool and fresh. The sky was cloudy, and still the rain fell softly, turning the soaked ground into a swamp. Jonas looked across at the park. A couple of zombies were heading through it toward the house. It didn’t matter. The barbwire would soon stop them; even if they found a way through, there were only two of them and could be easily dealt with. Jonas looked at Lake Superior, its vastness imposing, its natural power making him feel less than insignificant. Maybe this was the way it should be. Maybe once everyone had gone, the world could start again, but this time without people to interfere with it. Jonas shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. Dakota had taught him that he shouldn’t lose his faith; should never give up. He had fought for her, killed for her; to give up now would be to throw that all away. Had Lukas died for nothing? Had Erik and Tyler died for nothing? Mrs. Danick, Julie, Quinn? Jonas was going to carry on. He couldn’t afford to waver now, not when he still had a chance. Not while his three nephews still needed him.

  Turning around the corner of the house, Jonas came upon a small garden area bordered by a low picket fence. There were shrubs and flowers surrounding it, and a large spade and fork leaning against a huge mound of dirt. The jetty lay just ahead of him, down a curved mossy path that led down to the lake. The small rowboat that he had seen earlier was still anchored up, and it moved slightly on the water. Closer to the house, Jonas recognized the combi van parked around the back. It was the same van that they had travelled in with Javier; the same one that Javier had left him and Dakota for dead in. Javier had positioned it carefully, making sure it wasn’t visible from the road. Jonas looked for his nephews, but there was no sign of them. He tried to see if Javier had them tied up, either in the garden or in the van, bu
t both looked deserted. Jonas looked closer at the garden, specifically around the large pile of mud. Taking a deep breath, he walked slowly up to three smaller mounds of dirt. Each one was about two feet across, and three or four feet long. At the head of each mound were crudely made crosses held together with twine, and upon each separate pile of raised dirt were mementos. On the first grave was a toy truck, its red paint glistening and wet. On the second was a book, its pages swollen with water, its cover faded into obscurity, and on the third Jonas saw a teddy. Its smiling face seemed at odds with where it was. Each was held in place with a small garden stake.

  Jonas sank to his knees and clawed at the ground. He felt utterly empty, devoid of emotion, unable to cry or scream or do anything but stare morosely at the three small graves that held his nephews. His fingers gouged out narrow lines in the ground as his frustration grew. He had been too slow. He had left it too long. Janey had promised she would wait for him, and she had. How long had she waited while her three boys were dead and cold in the ground? How long had he made her wait with that unbearable grief and guilt weighing on her? How long had she tormented herself waiting for Jonas to come, only to finally give in and take her own life with the shotgun upstairs? Jonas kept seeing them all in his mind, seeing them laughing and smiling. He imagined Dakota was still with him, stood by his side as he introduced them all. This was supposed to be a family reunion, not a wake.

  The soft patter of rain on the ground hid Javier’s approach, not that Jonas held any fear of him now. He had nothing left to offer, nothing more he could tease Jonas with. It was over. Everything had been in vain.

  “We both came here looking for something; looking for answers.” Javier walked up beside Jonas. “I guess you found yours. It might not be what you want, but it’s the way it is. If it counts for anything, I’m sorry. Those three little boys never had a chance. I can understand why Janey killed herself. She was responsible for them, and she let them down.”

  “Shut your God damn mouth,” said Jonas. He ran his fingers through the dirt of the third grave until he found the teddy. He plucked out the stake holding it in place and looked at it. Was this Ritchie’s, Andy’s, or Chester’s? Jonas wished he knew. He wished he could be holding his nephews instead of a soggy teddy bear.

  “You’re a new man, Hamsikker. You’ve shown you can fight; you’ve proven yourself. You can stop now. Janey let her kids down, but you don’t have to go the same way. There’s nothing you could do for them or for any of your friends. They made their own choices. I can help you. I can give you a choice. You can join me. I came here looking for help. My brother is out there somewhere, and I needed someone who knew the area. I needed Janey just like you. She’s left us both on our own. You’re my brother now, Hamsikker. You can help me. You can help me find Diego. You’ve got no ties anymore; nothing holding you back. I saw how they dragged you down. The others you travelled with, Erik, Quinn, Dakota – they stopped you from being the man you could be. Now is the time to do something useful, something really meaningful. I need a second pair of eyes out there. Join me.”

  Join Javier? Jonas stared at the grave, one hand planted firmly on the sodden ground, one still clutching the teddy. He put it carefully back on the grave, but held onto the stake. It was no more than a foot in length, but it was sharp. Water ran down his back and inside his collar, but it was no more than a minor irritant. He wanted no part of this anymore. Faced with so much death, how could he contemplate going on? How could Javier still expect him to think rationally after this, to still want to go on? “No. Leave me alone.”

  “You can’t stay here grieving for the rest of your life. Those three kids are gone. I’m sorry, truly. But you have to decide now, Hamsikker. What do you want to do?”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t have to make a choice. Everyone’s dead. My family are dead.” Jonas stood up to face Javier.

  Javier was still holding the gun, but he held something else, too; something in his other hand that dangled and shimmered in the faint light. It was a key chain. Jonas looked closer and saw the familiar metallic square, the picture of the building in green, set inside a golden yellow circle. Jonas recognized it as Fort William, and he knew what it meant.

  “Everyone?” Javier looked at the van, and smiled. “You sure about that, Hamsikker?”

  Jonas followed Javier’s eyes and saw what he meant. There in the van, with her cherub-like face peering through a window, was Freya. She was still alive!

  “Now,” said Javier, “you really do have a choice. You can join me.” Javier looked at the three graves as he walked up to Jonas, so they were only inches apart. He jabbed the gun into Jonas’s chest.

  “Or you can join your family.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jonas had clean forgotten about Freya. What the hell was Javier doing with her? Jonas ignored the gun pointed at him and stared at the van. Freya was waving at him, her face barely visible behind the steamy window. She looked pleased to see him, but she wasn’t smiling. She was pointing at the back of the van as if trying to show him something. Jonas looked and saw the approaching dead coming from the park. There weren’t just two of them anymore. Around a dozen or so trudged across the wet ground, and more were following from the shelter of the trees. Had the horde found them? Had Lukas’s death brought them down the hill? Was it the truck crash, the gunshots when Javier had killed Dakota, or the shouting when they had fought? It didn’t matter what the cause was. The barbwire would only hold so many back. He couldn’t just leave Freya like that. He owed Erik that much.

  “You know what separates us from the monkeys?” asked Jonas, turning back to Javier.

  “Say what?” Javier was expecting Hamsikker to give in, to accept he had no choice but to help him. He thought he had finally won. “That’s hardly—”

  “I said, do you know what separates us from the monkeys?” asked Jonas calmly. “You know? Like, chimpanzees and apes?”

  Javier rolled his eyes in his head and sighed. “Like I give a shit. I don’t know. Opposable thumbs?”

  Jonas tapped the side of his head with his index finger. “Cognitive reasoning. We learn from our mistakes. We can do it in a nano-second; realize the implications of what we’re doing before we’ve done it.” Jonas remembered a conversation he’d had with Dakota when she had asked him to renege on his promise to her. What were her words? “I want you to kill that bastard.”

  Javier smirked, confident now that Hamsikker had lost it. “So?”

  “So, Javier, you seem to have skipped that part. You still think you can do whatever you like and get away with it.”

  Jonas raised the stake in his hand and raked it across Javier’s face. Instantly Javier put his hands up in defense. Jonas took his opportunity, stamped on Javier’s wounded foot, and then grabbed him. Both men slipped over on the wet grass, and Javier’s gun skidded away to rest beside the three graves. The men began to fight, Jonas pounding Javier relentlessly. He screwed up his hands into fists and hit Javier with everything he had. Using both left and right hands, he straddled him, smacking him in the face over and over.

  Javier tried to stop him, but it was like fighting an animal. There was a deep cut running from his chin up to his right eyebrow where the garden stake had torn open his skin, and he was lucky not to have lost an eye. Jonas had gained the upper hand, but Javier had no intention of letting this pathetic man beat him to death. Bringing up a knee, Javier caught Jonas in the gut, and it threw Jonas off balance. All Javier needed was a second’s respite from the attack, and he ducked his head to one side, letting Jonas punch the ground. Javier reared up and head-butted Jonas square on.

  Jonas saw stars and suddenly found himself falling back as Javier crawled out from under him. Through the blood falling down his forehead, Jonas saw the gun at the same time as Javier. Both men tried to reach it, but it was just out of their reach. Jonas pulled Javier back, and punched him on the back of the head.

  Javier whipped around, and kicked Jonas in
the face, desperate to shrug him off. There was to be no redemption for Hamsikker. He couldn’t see the bigger picture. Javier thought he might be able to convince him that there could still be a future, that together they could find Diego, but it was obvious Hamsikker couldn’t see past his own blinkered grief. So be it.

  Hamsikker had to die.

  Javier twisted over and wrapped his legs around Jonas, but the man fought back, punching Javier in the thigh and groin.

  “Fuck you, Hamsikker.” Javier crawled out of Hamsikker’s reach and sprung up. Like a lioness attacking a springbok, Javier jumped on Jonas and forced him down to the ground. Hamsikker was tiring already. So much for Hamsikker trying to protect Freya. So much for revenge. Javier had the strength and the inner-belief to see it through. He doubted that Hamsikker had anything left, and as he held him down, he could see the strength disappearing from Hamsikker’s eyes.

  “Seems you didn’t listen to your own advice, Hamsikker,” said Javier as he moved his hands up to Jonas’s face. “You’re supposed to learn from your own mistakes, right?”

  Javier put his hands on Jonas’s head, and dug his thumbs into Jonas’s eyes. He could feel the warm soft eyeballs give way as he dug in deeper. He was going to enjoy killing Hamsikker.

  Jonas cried out in anguish, and he put his hands on Javier’s wrists, trying to stop him, but Javier was putting all his weight behind his attempt to blind him. He wanted to crush Jonas, to force him into the ground where he would die. Javier wanted to push his hands right through Jonas’s face into his brain, and watch the life drain out of him.

  Jonas opened his mouth to scream, to plead for mercy, but no sound came out. He was blind, and he could sense Javier laughing, knowing he was about to win. Death was everywhere, and now it had come for Jonas. That was what it was about now. It wasn’t about survival or mercy, it was about death. It was about killing.