Nemesis: Inception

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Nemesis: Inception Page 12

by G. Michael Hopf


  John wanted to comfort Lexi, but he didn’t dare try.

  “I left to get the gas, and when I came back, they were there again, but with more men. They had taken Carey…” Lexi wailed.

  “Let’s stop, we don’t need to talk about this anymore.”

  “No, you wanted to know me, so you’re going to get the story. You wanted to know why I’m angry, as if my anger made me less or somehow immature!”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” John said, defending his earlier comment.

  “There were six guys, I know this because I counted. I specifically counted the number so that I’d know how many to shoot. Two had Carey in the back of the truck…” Lexi said then sobbed. “I tried to do something, but they had her, they were raping her, those motherfuckers! I tried, but what was I to do? They said they’d kill her if I resisted, so I just surrendered, I gave up like a fucking coward. I surrendered, but it didn’t change the outcome, they still killed Carey but not until they had raped and tortured us for weeks.” She wiped her face of the tears. When she put her gaze back on John, her face had hardened. “Looking back now, I should have just started shooting them. Even if they ended up killing Carey, it would have saved her from the trauma of the weeks after.”

  At a loss for words, John offered the only ones that seemed fitting, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Now do you see why I’m angry?” Lexi asked.

  “I’d be angry too.”

  “But now I have a purpose, I have a way to channel that anger. I’m going to track down Rahab and his people and kill him and as many of them as I can. After that, I don’t know what happens; maybe I’ll become a vigilante of sorts. I haven’t given much thought to it.”

  “How long will you do that?”

  “Unfortunately there won’t be an end until I die, I guess. The world has an endless supply of people like Rahab.”

  “I’d ask you to stay and set up shop with me, but I think I know your answer.”

  “Ha, thanks, but no,” Lexi replied and burped. “Excuse me. Um, I think the only place I’m going now is to the bathroom and then I think I’ll go pass out.”

  “Good idea,” John said, getting to his feet. He held out his hand to help her up.

  Lexi didn’t take it, instead opting to use the stool next to her. She got to her feet and said, “Good night.”

  John looked out the window and saw the sun had gone down. He was unsure of the time, as he had been so engrossed with her story that he lost track. “Good night.” He watched her bump tables and chairs as she meandered back towards the bathroom. He reflected on her tale and couldn’t try to understand what she had been through. All he thought he could do was support her, and when the time came, he’d see her off with hopes she’d find what she was looking for.

  February 23, 2015

  “Life is about timing.” – Carl Lewis

  Crescent, Oregon

  Lexi grunted when she rose. Her head was pounding and her body ached. She didn’t remember going to bed; in fact, she didn’t remember much of the evening. She sat up, stretched and crawled to the door. Using the doorknob as support, she pulled herself up. She steadied her wobbly legs and took in a huge breath.

  “Pull yourself together,” she said out loud.

  She opened the door and exited the storeroom. The light from the morning sun hurt her eyes. She squinted and stumbled towards the bathroom.

  “You’re awake!” John hollered from the bar.

  Lexi grumbled an unintelligible response. She went directly to the sink and turned on the cold water. She splashed the water on her face and exhaled heavily. “God, I feel like shit.”

  She lifted her heavy head and looked into the bloodshot eyes that reflected back at her. She knew she couldn’t keep doing this. By getting drunk she let her guard down and put herself at risk, but the pain, the internal pain was something she didn’t want to deal with.

  The aroma of food hit her nostrils. Normally it would have made her hungry; this morning it made her want to throw up.

  She finished up and headed for the bar. She had one objective and that was to find water and some pain medication. She found John behind the bar, happily whistling a show tune. He turned, smiled and said, “Mornin’.”

  “Don’t talk to me,” she said, holding up her hand.

  “I had a feeling you’d be like this,” he said, pointing towards a plate of feed, a bottle of water and three small tablets of Advil.

  Seeing the place setting made her happy. She didn’t hesitate; she quickly opened the water and tossed back the Advil. The food, though, was something she couldn’t deal with just yet as she pushed the eggs and sausages away from her.

  He looked at her and said, “I know eating doesn’t sound appealing, but you need to.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Well, when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you,” he said and picked up the plate.

  “What time did I go to bed?”

  “You mean what time did you pass out?”

  “How is it you’re not hungover?” she asked, looking at him happily bouncing around behind the bar.

  “It’s all about pacing, a trick I learned years ago. I drink a few then make sure I eat and drink lots of water, plus I wasn’t going one for one with you.”

  Lexi leaned her head on the bar and sighed. “Argh, my head fucking hurts.”

  “I’d offer you some hair of the dog, but let’s get you hydrated first.”

  “I don’t remember anything from last night. I hope I behaved myself,” Lexi mumbled, her head resting on her forearms.

  “You definitely are a talker when you drink.”

  “Oh no, what did I say?”

  “Nothing bad, you just talked a lot.”

  “It’s hot in here,” Lexi said, lifting her head; a pasty sweat clung to her forehead and cheeks.

  “You don’t look good,” John commented. He briskly walked to the front door and opened it.

  A cool breeze immediately swept in.

  “Ahh, that feels good.” Lexi smiled.

  “It’s all my fault,” John admitted.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I kept feeding you drinks and I asked you to tell me your story.”

  Lexi furrowed her brow and asked, “Did I tell you everything?”

  “Yeah, you pretty much covered it all,” John said, hoping his reply would suffice. He didn’t need to hear anymore.

  “Good, glad I could do that for you,” Lexi said in a mocking tone.

  There was a part of her tale he was curious about, so he asked, “That family south of here, the ones who took you in, you never mentioned why you left, though.”

  “I didn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Where did I finish?”

  “Listen, don’t worry about it. How about we talk about…nothing today?”

  “No, tell me, I seriously don’t remember how the evening ended.”

  Wishing he hadn’t mentioned it, John looked for a reason to head towards the back and forget the conversation. “I’ll be right back.”

  “You seem squirrely, what did I say?”

  “You got a bit drunk and, well, emotional.”

  “I tend to do that when I’m drunk. My sister used to say I was passionate,” Lexi said then took a long drink of water.

  “Let’s just have a good day.”

  “Please, what did I say?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, you’re acting weird and I want to know.”

  “Let’s see, you fell down right there,” John said, pointing towards the spot on the floor where she had tripped the night before and continued, “You finished talking about getting captured by Rahab’s men, nothing more.”

  “Nothing after that?”

  “No, just that, you were really emotional.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “So, I’ll be right back.”

  Lexi wasn’t going to let him go without making a declaration. “I’m g
lad I didn’t tell you about Rahab’s camp. All you need to know is they took us and we spent the next few weeks living in hell on Earth.”

  John raised his hands and said, “I don’t need to know, you shared enough. I feel bad that I made you.”

  “You didn’t make me, it was fair, but I agree with you, let’s not talk today.”

  “Perfect,” John said and headed towards the back.

  Lexi quickly reneged and offered an answer to his question, “They were good people, the ones who took me in, but like every good person I meet, they soon died.”

  “This isn’t necessary,” John said.

  “I woke up one morning to a loud crash followed by gunfire. A group of marauders had found us. The rest is history. I barely made it out of there alive.”

  “No one else survived?”

  “Nope, just me.”

  “The guy, the father of that family, he’s the one who gave you some training, right?”

  “Yeah, he was a good guy.”

  “I’d offer you a drink to toast to him, but we have two problems.”

  “What’s that?”

  “One, your condition, and two, we’re out of vodka.”

  “A whiskey is always a good substitute,” Lexi joked.

  “How about we get some food in you first.”

  “Fine, fine, I’ll take the food,” she said.

  John went back into the kitchen to get her plate.

  Lexi’s mind drifted to the family who had helped her. The time with them had been pivotal. There she’d learned some vital skills for which she was grateful. She would’ve stayed longer, but that choice was taken from her. What she had told John earlier was correct, those she got close to usually ended up dead. So often that she began to wonder if she was cursed.

  John re-emerged with a full plate and placed it in front of her.

  The smell still made her nauseous, but she needed the food. With gusto she grabbed the fork and dug in. In no time she finished the plate and shoved it away from her. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Good,” John said, taking the plate away.

  A dull throbbing pain still pounded in her head. She leaned forward and groaned. “Ah, why do I do this to myself?”

  “You want some hair of the dog?”

  “Um, sure, but do you have anything to mix it with, like a Coke?”

  “I don’t have ice, though.”

  “I don’t care, the Coke will give me some caffeine.”

  John grabbed a can, popped it and poured it into a tall glass. Grabbing the whiskey, he said, “Sorry, it’s not the best stuff.”

  “I don’t care,” Lexi replied.

  He dumped in a shot’s worth of whiskey, stirred and pushed the drink in front of her.

  “Promise me you won’t get me drunk,” Lexi said, taking the glass.

  “I don’t make promises, I’m a bartender, remember?” John joked.

  They spent the next few hours drinking and casually conversing about meaningless things. For Lexi these silly topics made living manageable and allowed her to temporarily disengage.

  As the morning turned into the afternoon, the whiskey and Coke became just whiskey.

  John reminded her of the promise, but she brushed it off by telling him to keep pouring.

  “Give me a few, I’m going to find us some snacks,” John said and stepped away.

  With the aid of Advil and whiskey, her headache was gone. She rested her elbows on the sticky bar and thought.

  Her journey from the first day the lights went out was one traumatic event after another, culminating in her ending up in The Mohawk Bar & Grill. She had lost a lot but vowed to not let her losses infringe on her one singular purpose. She didn’t know what lay ahead, but the unknown wasn’t going to stop her. Even with all the tragedy, she didn’t lose sight of those who helped her along the way. The world was completely full of evil, but mixed in she had found good people. So as to not forget, she recited their names and saw their faces in her mind. She knew none of them that well, and for those who had been spared, she wondered where they were. Thoughts came of a woman named Samantha; she and her friend Nelson had saved her when she escaped Rahab’s capture. When she encountered them outside Rahab’s camp, she skeptically and briefly joined their group. Shortly after joining them, she discovered that the man Samantha had inquired about was also a captive of Rahab’s; all she remembered was his name, Gordon. They promised sanctuary in Idaho, but she stayed long enough to gather items she needed before taking off in the middle of the night.

  John walked back into the bar quickly and said, “Someone pulled up outside. I think it’s the Marines again.”

  “Oh yeah,” Lexi said and looked in the mirror behind the bar. There she had a clear view of the front door.

  The door creaked open, allowing the bright light of the day to pour in. Three men stepped through and closed the door. Two were wearing uniforms and the third was in civilian clothes but had the stature and bearing of the two Marines only with a little seasoning of age.

  “Right there, sir,” a Marine lance corporal said to the man in the civilian clothes.

  The man swept through the place, weaving around the tables and chairs and sat next to Lexi.

  She watched him carefully, as did John.

  The man went to speak, but she beat him by asking, “What do you fucking want?”

  “Ha, that’s a nice greeting,” the man said. He looked at her through his piercing blue eyes. His face was ruggedly handsome but also showed the visible scars of war, with one deep thick scar that stretched from his nose across down at an angle on his right cheek.

  She saw the shot glass in front of her, picked it up and downed it. Plunking it back on the bar, she asked, “Are you here to hit on me, or do you want something? I see you brought friends.” She swiveled in the chair and acknowledged the Marines.

  The man said, “My name is Gordon and—”

  “I know you!” she shouted at the lance corporal. “You’re that jarhead that helped me out. Get over here; I’ll buy you a drink.” Lexi was feeling the effects of a second solid day of drinking and allowing the alcohol to bring out the jovial side in her.

  The lance corporal nodded but kept silent.

  She turned and faced the man who called himself Gordon and asked, “What did you say your name was again?”

  “My name is Gordon Van Zandt. I hear you have—”

  She again interrupted him. “Wait a minute, I’ve heard of you,” she said while motioning for John to give her another drink.

  Gordon leaned forward and put his hand over her shot glass and said, “Before you get too drunk and useless to me, I have a few questions for you. When I’m done, you can get trashed.”

  She looked at Gordon defiantly then looked at the two Marines. She was assessing the situation and decided it wasn’t going to work out for her if she struck out at Gordon. “What do you want to know there, stud?”

  “How do you know me?”

  “My mother told me to be polite. Isn’t that funny coming from a woman who was the rudest bitch you’d ever meet.” She laughed. “You know, it would be rude if I didn’t introduce myself. Gordon Van Zandt, I’m Lexi Tolanus. Nice to meet you.”

  Lexi and Gordon spent the evening swapping stories about their captivity with Rahab over a bottle of whiskey.

  When Lexi got to the point in her story about Carey’s murder, Gordon told her he had been there too and had witnessed her death.

  “I remember that. I can still see her. She stepped out to her death with courage and dignity. It was the first time I witnessed a cleansing, I think that’s what they called them,” Gordon sneered.

  “My sister deserved better than that,” Lexi grunted in anger.

  “She did.”

  Lexi took the whiskey, and instead of slamming it back, she sipped it. “Well, my sister got stronger with each passing day.”

  “How long were you there?” Gordon asked.

  Lexi hadn’t talked about her time wi
th Rahab because doing so was painful but also because no one could understand. What she and Carey endured was unlike anything, and even though she had an instant rapport with Gordon because of his time there, even he couldn’t fully grasp what life in that place was like for a woman. However, meeting someone who was there allowed her to open up. “Weeks, I lost count, but probably four weeks, I’m guessing.”

  “Good God.”

  “After the first week I just became numb.”

  “I heard the cries and pleas daily,” Gordon said; it was more of a thought spoken aloud than a comment.

  “That was us, or I should say the other women chosen to be sex slaves.”

  Gordon picked up a glass and drank; he grimaced and said, “I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”

  “Not if I kill him first.”

  Gordon tipped his half-full glass and nodded.

  “And you, what happened?” Lexi asked.

  “Rahab killed my son, Hunter, the same way he killed your sister,” Gordon confessed.

  “They’re vicious bastards, they really are,” Lexi snarled.

  “Sorry about your sister,” Gordon replied.

  Lexi didn’t reply to his last comment. She just stared ahead, deep in thought.

  The conversation about Rahab had reached a point that neither wished to talk about it anymore.

  “So these jarheads told you about me?” Lexi asked.

  “Yeah, I ran into them further south. They helped me out too.”

  Lexi looked at the two Marines, who were now parked up at the bar, enjoying a drink with John and two townspeople who had come in. “Same here, those guys are still out there protecting and serving even though all this shit is happening. You gotta respect that.”

  “Government money spent wisely, I guess,” Gordon joked.

  Lexi fiddled with her glass by swirling the whiskey around.

 

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