Cat and the Belle

by Victor Cruz

  The blue plastic tarp and ratchet straps secured their bounty they had found. An entire town’s worth of items proved to be very useful. Under the tarp was a large freezer they would leave outside and begin to store when winter’s freezing temperatures arrived. It was the first thing that would need to go and Maxson released it from the straps. It would take Yargan and two other men, including Pete and Scott to carry it off. A big man that loved to show off his strength whenever he could. He carried one side effortlessly, while the other two men who shared the other side looked to be having trouble.

  “Slow down there, aye? You have me arseways on a Sunday with the sun down!” Scott said.

  “Oh quit your gibberish and put that fat ass into gear, deputy Irish,” Pete snipped. His face was reddening under the strain of the weight of the freezer.

  “That’s detective Irish, peckerhead,” Scott snipped back.

  Maxson watched them walk out of view. There seemed to be some sort of rivalry between the two of them and he thought Suzie had something to do with it. Continuing with his own business, he unloaded a few rain barrels that had nozzles for pouring. It would help them trap water and with a little bleach or boiling water, they could treat it. Propane tanks, camping gear, tools, dried foods, canned goods, lumber, winter jackets and clothing were all items that made up the trailer.

  In the back of the pickup truck and wrapped in its own tarp were three handguns, two rifles and a shotgun that they had taken from the sporting goods store. All of the weapons were cheaply made and probably left behind in favor of the higher quality manufactured firearms. They had found considerable amount of ammo and luckily, Colton would be the person responsible for accounting for it all.

  Achilles waited by the driver door waiting to greet Maxson when he stepped out of the truck. The dog was a playful and loving dog even after being alone for so long and even rolled to his belly for Maxson to rub it.

  “Good boy,” Maxson said light enough for nobody to hear the special voice he gave the animal while taking a knee.

  Konrad’s large form stepped around the truck and eclipsed the sun that was beginning to set. His hand was extended downwards to show an open palm, “Thanks for holding onto it, champ, but I’ll be taking my flask back.”

  Maxson almost forgot about it and stood up completely before reaching into his pocket. Taking his sweet time, Maxson the metal flask out and held it up. It was only for Konrad to see it, however, making the Essex man wait until he become impatient before finally slapping it into his hand. “Drink up, buttercup.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Konrad’s ugly smile crept over his face as he unscrewed it to take a large pull right in front of Maxson. The entire time he swigged, his eyes on Maxson with contempt. He went as far as to smack his lips at the refreshing alcohol in an attempt of provocation. Not getting the reaction he wanted, Konrad simply chuckled.

  “Well, I’ll let you ladies get to work.”

  “You’re not going to help?” Maxson asked.

  “Nah, I’m feeling a little a parched. Think I better take a well deserved break!” Konrad whistled as he walked off.

  An old man’s familiar voice came from behind.

  “That nimwit has spent too much time under the sun,” Henry said commenting as he approached. The older man still got around fine, even if he had a small wobble to his step. His .357 revolver was holstered at the waist and even doubled as a bandolier that held a dozen extra rounds. Even at his age, Henry was country boy at heart and even wore his signature cowboy hat.

  “You know, Henry… I don’t understand those brothers. It’s like they are here to make my life even more miserable than it already is,” Maxson said unlatching the ratchet straps from the trailer. Henry had gone around to the other one to help.

  “Ho-hum, there ain’t a thing you can do about them boys. They don’t like that you’re leading this outfit,” Henry pulled the strap to him and began to roll it back up to organize it.

  “Being the leader was my brother’s job,” Maxson felt comfortable following his brother who always seemed to know what to do and when to do it. He couldn’t understand how Mason did it so effortlessly and found himself missing him in that moment.

  “Yes… it was…” Henry emphasized the past tense. “We all still miss him, but that was a while ago, Maxson. The group has turned to someone new. We need someone to lead us to the promised land.”

  Catalina appeared on the porch grabbing both Henry and Maxson’s attention. The two men’s eyes didn’t leave her while Maxson spoke, “Plus, Henry, I think we all know who the real leader here is.”

  Henry was amused, “Yeah, I suppose you’re dead shot on that one. But those Essex boys will only follow a man. And that man ain’t you. Your hair is too long and you look too much like you aren’t from around here. I know they’re type.”

  “Sadly, I know their type too,” Maxson said before looking over to the home. The boards he had previously nailed had been readjusted and more wood covered the windows completely. “Diego!”

  Diego and Colton were already grabbing things from the trailer and bringing them into the home or setting them aside for others to grab. He was a little younger than Maxson, but pretty similar in age, “Yes?”

  “Fix my fuck up?” Maxson asked.

  Diego looked a little confused, “You did okay. But I made better. First floor is now safer.”

  “Well, I actually brought you home something special, amigo,” Maxson went to the bed of the pickup truck and pull something out. It was a beautiful cherry woodgrain box that had a small golden hinge on the front of it that swiveled to latch the box. Lifting it, opened the box to show the contents of it.

  Diego smiled wide looking inside and even walked over to grab the box out of Maxson’s hands to set it down in front of himself. Going through it he pulled out multiple tools.

  “What’re those?” Tyler asked.

  “Tools for carpenter and construction. Before power tools,” Diego said as he demonstrated the hand-powered drill. His English was good, but his grammar was worse than Catalina’s. “Wow, Maxson. I-I-no think they ever been used before.”

  “Nope and guess what else,” Maxson said, but didn’t give him any time to answer before lifting another box. “There’s two of them.”

  “¡Órale! ¡Gracias, Maxson!” Diego cheered. He took both the boxes and walked off looking into the top opened box like a kid on Christmas.

  “Well I didn’t mean for him to stop helping unload the trailer.” He said watching Diego walk off. Then looked around at who was helping, “Where the hell is Dusty?”

  “Probably rubbing Konrad’s feet,” Henry joked at Dustin’s accommodating behavior towards Konrad, or Eddie for that matter.

  “That little shit is never around to help anymore,” Vented Maxson before divulging to Henry, a man he trusted. “I don’t like how Konrad and Eddie have given him the license to run his mouth. And now I worry about the same for Tyler. The way him and especially Krystal get along with those wild bunch.”

  “Maxson!” Catalina called from the porch interrupting their conversation.

  “I wondered how long it was going to take her to call for you,” Henry said.

  “Jealous, old timer?” Maxson furrowed his eyebrows.

  “This old man has got a new squeeze,” Henry said with his eyes following Mabel. She was using clothespins in order to hang their washed clothing to dry with Suzie. By the way Suzie was moving, it was clear that she was humming a tune to herself as she hung clothes. A big beautiful woman who had eyes in both Scott and Pete’s direction.

  Henry remembered, “By the way, Mabel saved you all a piece of Suzie’s pie.”

  “Really?” Maxson wondered what kind it was. Something sweet sounded delicious and everyone knew that Suzie’s pies were the best.

  Henry continued, “I ate yours.”

  Maxson went silent and looked over at Henry. The old man shrugged it off and he could only sigh.

  “Guess you finally gav
e up on Catalina?” Asked Maxson. Take that old man.

  “Give up? Never. She’ll come around someday,” Henry said undeterred and without a hint of humor. “… and when she does, Good Ol’ Henry will be there waiting for her. I’ll hate having to break Mabel’s heart, but even if this old dog can’t learn any new tricks, it’s still young enough for the chase.”

  “You are on dirty dog, hombre,” Maxson at least believed that Henry believed what he was saying.

  Maxson walked off from the group to allow them finish off unloading haul and made his way towards their beautiful Latina leader. She was wearing a t-shirt that wasn’t meant to be as tight and restricting as it was, but it made her large chest look even more pronounced. “You rang your highness?”

  “I would like a debriefing on Greenbrook,” She waited patiently.

  “Small town, but lots to scavenge,” Explained Maxson. “Saw a road out there. A place called Paradise Falls Resort is out there.”

  “Paradise Falls? Hmmm. There is a Paradise River that run up in that area. Did you see any water?” Catalina asked.

  Maxson shrugged.

  This irritated Catalina, “How don’t you know?”

  “Hard to tell from where we were,” Maxson shrugged nonchalantly. “We also had to deal with some dead heads. Not like we were twiddling our thumbs.”

  “How many of them?” Asked Catalina. Mentioning their existence still made most quiver.

  Maxson knew what she meant, “Couple hundred. Maybe three, even.”

  “How did you guys manage to get all of this stuff, then?” Catalina looked back at the truck and trailer being unloaded. Colton had a rifle and shotgun over his shoulder with a case of ammo carrying down by his side. Achilles was running around his feet trying to trip him and getting close a few times to succeeding.

  “Achilles! God-dam-down! Achilles! Down boy!” Colton could barely speak properly as he barked at the dog who returned its own bark back. Wagging its tail, it danced around Colton’s boots to nip at them playfully.

  “Because we’re smooth like that. That’s how,” Maxson wanted to be mysterious but Tyler was there to answer her question.

  “Power of the Boomer Blaster,” Tyler gave a smile and nod to Maxson in support.

  Rich boy tries, Maxson thought of Tyler before nodding back.

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Catalina looked confused to Maxson.

  “Maxson lured them into a construction pit with a boombox. Those dumb things just walked right into it, and cleared that little shit hole town,” Tyler said with gusto.

  “I wouldn’t quite say that place was a shit hole, but yeah, that’s what happened,” Maxson thought the small town would have been charming in different circumstances.

  “Hm.” Was the only noise that Catalina ambiguously made. Her eyes interrogating the two men without any words until she found her confession on Tyler. He was covered in black dried blood and the amount could go unnoticed only for so long. He had gotten it off his face, but his clothes were forever stained. “How didn’t I notice this already? What happened? Where is Inez?”

  “Inez is fine, everyone is fine,” Reassured Maxson noticing the fear in her eyes worrying about her sister. “We ran into one when we were going to grab the, uhh-umm, trailer.”

  Tyler jumped in, “Maxson ripped its fucking head off with his bare hands!”

  Just then, Krystal came out of the house. She looked half in the bag already, but was excited to see her husband and rushed to him and jump in his arms. She was petite and wrapped her thin legs around her husband’s waist to cling onto him.

  “What took you so long?” Krystal whined. Her voice was squeaky and displeasing to Maxson’s ears. She then looked down Tyler’s chest and noticed he was covered in blood. She instantaneously hopped and checked herself to see if her own clothing was covered as well. “Ew! Gross! Go change your clothes!”

  Tyler’s face scrunched at her for a moment and Maxson could tell he wanted to say something, but he held it back. Instead he just took a deep breath and huffed it out while he walked off. Krystal unapologetically squealing at him as she followed behind him.

  “Is this true?” Catalina asked Maxson.

  “Yeah, we we’re grabbing the trailer!” Maxson insisted.

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “No, I meant you ripping off its head? Wait, now you have me doubting the trailer part.”

  Shut your big dumb mouth, Maxson!

  “Oh yeah, I grabbed its head…” Maxson reenacted it hoping to distract her. He crouched like he had early and grabbed at the air in the shape of a head.

  “Yeah and?” Catalina had anticipation building in her eyes.

  Maxson showed her exactly how he tore the creature’s head off and he could see her eyes light up with excitement. Her lips were parted in a subtle manner and her hand even came to rest against her chest. Readjusting how she stood she even looked around in a guilty manner to see if anyone else had saw how she reacted to Maxson’s demonstration of his strength and prowess.

  Maxson relished her attention and continued his theatrics, speaking through gritted teeth. “And then I took its head… and tossed it aside like a fucking barbarian.”

  “Oh my…” Catalina exhaled. She then reached out and patted Maxson’s arm. Her fingers lingering to rub the crevices of corded muscle fiber that was Maxson. “Well good job.”

  Maxson was perceptive and while he enjoyed her admiration, he knew it would be the best opportunity to slip in his next idea. “There’s more in Greenbrook. So, we’ll need to scrounge up some more gas and even bring a few extra gallons, but–” Tried to say it without sound inconspicuous.

  “Few extra gallons, for what?” Catalina was instantly onto his ulterior motives.

  Damn it, dumbass. Just tell her.

  “We found a ’68 Comanche, but it needs some gas and we couldn’t afford to transfer any from the truck” Maxson came clean immediately while trying to sound as responsible as honestly possible. Catalina was too hard to outright lie to as he had tried many times before the world changed. His brother would be out at the bar drinking or playing cards or doing something else he wasn’t supposed to. His lies never worked and she could always tell when he was hiding something from her about Mason.

  “And so what?” Catalina snipped back.

  “It’s a ’68 Comanche, Catalina!” Henry interjected himself. He had was carrying a pair of military rucksack bags with Slug carrying a few more behind him. “He shouldn’t have to say anything else!”

  “Thanks Henry! For once,” Maxson appreciatively said.

  “No problem, kid.” Henry gave him a firm nod. “Only right thing to do in this situation.”

  “Yeah Catalina,” Was all Slug said smiling at her, feeling part of the group. His smile was meet with her stone-faced frown. It made him look away and wipe the smile off his own face out of fear.

  “See, even Slug agrees!” Maxson’s voice strained.

  “Is that right, Slug? Do you agree with these two bozos?” Catalina said.

  Slug froze and was looking straight ahead with Henry in front of him and laughing at his predicament. Slug didn’t even turn to face her and fumbled the words out of his mouth. “Uhh, I’m not getting in the middle of this!”

  “Smart man!” Henry could be heard while walking out of view alongside Slug and giving him a pat on the back.

  Catalina slowly looked at Maxson, her eyes shifting the blame of the group’s opinion onto him. “You’re saying you want to spend time getting gas, putting everyone’s live at risk, just so you can go back out there to pick up your dream car?”

  “Well… yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Maxson confessed before adding more reasoning. “Don’t you remember that song Never Late in my ’68?”

  Catalina looked blankly at him and even blinked her long dark lashed a few times. “No.”

  “No?” Maxson reacted as though he didn’t know what the word meant.

  “You heard me,” Sh
e crossed her arms over her chest to cradle her large chest. Her hip cocked to the side as she planted her weight on one foot and stood firm.

  Sometimes I can’t tell if I want to fuck her or punish her… maybe it’s both… at the same time.

  “We’re going back out there tomorrow at sunrise,” Catalina commanded.

  “We? You’re coming?” Maxson said surprised.

  “I’ve been stuck on this farm for far too long and I want to see for myself,” Catalina said with her hands on her hips. “Now get a bite of Mabel’s dish and get some rest. Another long day tomorrow.”

  “They’re all becoming long days, Catalina,” Grumbled Maxson.

  “Better than long, cold nights, which is exactly what is coming when winter hits. Now you’re alive, aren’t you?” Catalina turned on the heel of her boot and strutted off leaving him speechless.

  Maxson could have sworn she was giving him an extra shake with each step, but he was also self-aware that women made him delusional.

  Colton stepped up after hearing the whole thing, “Whatcha’ think? Grabbing that ’68?”

  “You-are-god-damn-right I am,” Maxson put up a fist.

  Colton bumped it.

  …

  Belle had brought him a plate of Mabel’s dish which looked like a grotesque brown mush. For how bad it looked, it was actually as good as it was filling. The real hero of the plate was the fresh bread that Mabel had made from scratch with Belle. Bread had become a real treat since they could no longer pick it up by the loaf at the store. Mabel’s bread was better than any loaf that someone simply picked up from the grocery store.

  Belle and Maxson were sitting underneath a tree away from the group, in a spot that she had picked out. The group normally ate with one another and other than the Essex brothers, it was a time for them to socialize with each other. Henry had walked on over with a plate in his hand and eating while he stood by them.