by Mark Tufo
“Sounds like words of wisdom to me.” Scrum had composed himself while she was speaking and he gave her a brave little grin.
“Be careful out there, kid. Watch over yourself.” She tipped her hat, turned, and left the old pharmacy they were in a church, spitting her cigar stub out on the weed-choked, busted-to-rubble cement walkway.
The boy watched her retreat and could barely contain his excitement. He’d grown up on stories of Sasha and how after the war she’d joined a band of freedom fighters in Mexico Proper and continued to aid in their liberation. He never expected to see her after Pete’s funeral. Her absence had everyone assuming she was dead or just too busy to attend.
He never expected to hear she was after Kayliss. It was better than he’d even dreamed. That woman and her Scavengers had been picking the county apart for too long. After the Great War the looting, robbing, and pillaging had destroyed what Korean missiles had not, and chaos reigned.
Kayliss rose up the ranks with her little wake of vultures and they promised safety from the waves of malcontents doing worse than looting. The truth was you paid them not to ruin your house/shop and they didn’t, unless they felt like it.
It was the same sort of protection racket that has been run in every city in the world. The thought that Sasha might help restore order and end the nightmare they’d been dealing with in Kayliss was enough to make Scrum smile.
He hoped telling her the truth about the donuts would go a long way to establishing trust and he wondered—not for the first time—who was living at the supermarket.
***
Sasha walked through the old market and stopped when she heard the rustling inside the store. She stayed still and quiet, up against the wall near the front door and listened. Whoever was inside was scrambling around grabbing things and bagging them up. The crinkle of plastic gave them away with each and every item they bagged.
Scrum had told her someone was living inside but she hadn’t believed it until now. She didn’t think it would be possible for them to outmaneuver her sister’s goon squad. Kayliss sent them around every building several times a day and never at the same times.
Her interest piqued, she advanced cautiously into the west wing of the E-shaped store, staying low and keeping her eyes moving to spot any trouble. She had just moved up near the snack food aisle when a loud bang made her stop and take cover.
A man walked by the end of the aisle, his hands loaded with full plastic bags. He was muttering to himself.
“Going to have to find a new home, not safe here. Damn kid stole my donuts.” Even though he was talking to himself his voice didn’t get much above a whisper. If the store hadn’t been empty and silent she never would have heard him.
Sasha debated coming forward and talking with the man. He seemed tightly wound and she didn’t want any further trouble than what was already heading her way with Kayliss.
Her sister had gone over the line when their father passed away. She’d crossed it further when their mother had followed her husband into death. Pete’s death had certainly steeled her descent into evil.
She had tried not to be sore when Kayliss didn’t bother to call her about Pete until long after the funeral. She’d tried not to be upset when she found that her sister had sold their parents’ house and kept the money. She’d even tried to give her sibling the benefit of the doubt when she stole the painting her brother had made for her ninth birthday present. It wasn’t going well.
The painting was the straw for her. It been hanging in the old house; Pete had painted it when he was fifteen and Sasha was nine. She looked up to her big brother, and his painting for her had been something that meant a lot to her. She planned to take the painting back with her to Oregon.
If there was a back to Oregon.
Kayliss had sharpened her skills and hardened her heart since Sasha had last spent time with her. It was entirely possible her sister would murder her. She knew there was a chance of death but it didn’t still her from moving forward with her plans.
“I hope whatever is on your mind is important because it has cost you your life.” The man she’d been watching was standing behind her and she was mentally kicking herself for allowing her thoughts to occupy her so intensely that he could sneak up behind her.
“I was thinking about killing my sister.” Her honesty surprised the man who lowered his knife slightly and looked at her with his head cocked in curiosity, like a dog.
“Wow. That’s a new one. Most people go the whole “No, please, I have a family” way.”
“Yeah, well, I prefer honesty to begging.” Sasha shrugged.
“Honesty is a good thing; murder, not so much.”
“You don’t know my sister.”
“Try me. I grew up around here. Got here a decade before the clock tower was blown up by the Koreans.”
“My sister’s name is Kayliss.” Sasha watched as a myriad of emotions slid over the man’s face starting with shock and ending in rage. “I see you are familiar with her.”
“I’m Nick Pershing. That bitch killed my wife.” The rage filled him and she took a slight step back.
“She killed a few wives after our mom died. She had what they called a psychogenic fugue state and said, If I can’t have a mom, neither can they. Her plans were to kill off every mother in town. She’d taken out three of them when I stopped her and brought her back into herself. I don’t even think she understood what she’d done. I’d taken her to see a doctor, used all my money too. He said there wasn’t anything he could do. She was how she was and we just had to accept her.”
“Okay, acceptance isn’t ever going to be happening. Tell me about this plan you have to kill her.”
“I didn’t say I had an actual plan. I’m more just winging it as I go.”
“Oh, dear God. Okay, well, sometimes those are the best kind of plans. You got an idea of what you want to do next?”
“I want to go speak with her. If I can talk to her, maybe I can bring back the sweet kid sister I remember from before all the death and destruction of the war.” Sasha wasn’t entirely confident it was possible.
“I think that part of her is dead. She killed far more people than the three you think she did. There were twenty moms throughout the entire county that I know of.”
“Twenty? There is no saving her if that’s the case.” Her face whitened and she blinked rapidly. She hadn’t really made any plans other than simply killing Kayliss, but she had to admit now that there was a part of her which had been hoping that her sister could be the little girl she’d once scooped up off the playground and carried to the doctor when she’d sprained her ankle.
The news she was a mass murderer set Sasha’s resolve that she had to end her sister’s life. The thought that she had to destroy the very person she had spent so long protecting and nurturing as a kid was heartbreaking.
“She killed more than those twenty.”
“How many more?” She closed her eyes and awaited his response.
“Oh, I think she’s offed just over two hundred now. After she took out the wives, she went wild on those living in the outskirts of town. Anyone who didn’t bend to her will got their necks bent by the gallows. I’m sorry to say, you’ve come back far too late to redeem her. Good luck trying. I have a date with a long-range rifle and your sister’s head—but, because I like you—I’m going to postpone it. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to talk with her and get her to surrender or put her down. If she is still walking, talking, and free by hour twenty-five, I will end her.” Without another word, he stepped out of the aisle and began walking for the exit.
“Look, the war changed everything. It’s over now and the few of us that remain can decide to carry on warring or we can stop, come together, and rebuild. I’ll take care of my sister, if I have to, but I owe her the chance to try.” Sasha hoped he could hear her.
He didn’t answer.
She turned her attention to finding enough food for her and Scrum. She wasn’t going to let t
he poor kid go hungry. Though the way he’d shoved those donuts down his gullet he probably wouldn’t be hungry any time soon.
She filled several bags and found a cart to transfer them back to her hideout. She wasn’t comfortable calling it a house. Maybe once it had been but it’d taken a lot of damage during the air raids. The front half of the house was still mostly dust and water tight. Boards on the windows and doors kept out many types of scavenger.
It looked as though the place would collapse at any moment but she’d inspected the foundation, and the support beams, and everything was solid and holding fine.
She rolled the cart to the side of the house and grabbed up as many bags as she could carry. Without missing a beat she stepped through the hole an ICBM had ripped through the back of the house and took her supplies to the cooler in what had been the living room.
She took note that she’d have to find ice, and soon, then she stepped back out to grab the rest of the food. Once everything was inside she went back outside and hid the cart in a dilapidated shed to the side of some overgrown rosebushes.
She took a good look around and ducked back inside the house.
As she was putting away groceries she heard a noise from the area near the shed and killed the lantern she’d lit. The sun broke through the boards covering the windows in small patches and dust danced in the golden light.
As if seeing the dust was enough to make one sneeze, her nose began to tickle.
A noise from the same hole in the house she’d used to gain entry meant she was no longer alone. She fought to control the urge to sneeze and won by plugging her nose shut. She grabbed the cooler with her other hand and hurried to the closet.
She didn’t want anyone stealing her food, but running with the cooler made a loud sloshing noise that she was sure would alert the burglar. She moved quickly and hoped for the best. She made it into the closet as someone came around the doorframe into the room.
“Hey, lady, you here?” She recognized Scrum’s voice and peeked through the crack she’d left in the closet.
He looked to be alone so she stepped out of her hiding place and set the cooler on the floor before turning to her guest. “What’cha doing here, Scrum?”
“I was looking for you. One of her Scavengers found me. He said Kayliss wants to see me. I think she’s going to kill me and I need you to help take care of my mom if she does. Please.” The eyes looking at her were not those of a ten-year-old. He had understanding far beyond his years and it hurt her heart to see.
“Just don’t go. Stay with your mom and I’ll deal with my sister. Here.” She shoved some of the groceries at him.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“Kid, I’m already in trouble. If you think she ever planned to let me out of this town alive you obviously haven’t been watching her.”
“I don’t understand. Earlier you planned to talk with her and try to change her. What happened?”
“I ran into your donut maker at the supermarket. It seems my sister is far worse than I thought. I still plan to try talking to her but I don’t expect it’ll do much good. If I don’t make it back, there is more food in the cooler and you are welcome to it. If I die, stay away from her and out of sight from now until you and your mom can leave. Best to leave sooner rather than later.” She walked to a suitcase on the kitchen counter and pulled out a rifle.
“I’m sorry. Nobody should have to kill their family.”
“Well, it seems that happens far too often around these parts. Hopefully Kayliss will be the last of that mess.” She opened the chamber and slid in three shots.
“I’m sorry you ain’t got nobody. I don’t really have anyone except Ma…so, I kinda know how hard it can be.” The kid patted her shoulder and a flit of a smile danced on her face as she thought of the absurdity of this child, this poor beaten-yet-unbroken child, comforting her.
She closed the bolt.
“Well, kid, you will. One day, when you least expect it, you’ll find you have more somebodies than you ever considered possible.” She clapped his shoulder and offered him a final piece of advice. “Get out of here while you still can. Move on with your mom and see where life takes you. Death ain’t no way to live and the outskirts have military zones; places where you will be safe. Before you say it’s a lie, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Trust me; run while you still can. Once Kayliss falls, chaos will erupt. Someone meaner may take up her mantle.”
The boy started to speak and closed his mouth, nodding instead. There was no argument to be had; leaving was the best choice for him and his mom.
Sasha clipped her rifle to her backpack and shouldered it. Then she grabbed her hat and set it atop her head before turning for the door.
“Good luck, kid.”
“Good luck, yourself, lady.”
She chuckled and stepped into the evening. Dust devils swirled around her legs making her glad she’d worn pants. Her duster billowed for a moment before the wind caught the side of the fabric and whipped it back against her calves.
“She’s at the fights.” The voice startled her.
She turned to see the man from the supermarket.
“What?” She moved back and found a spot where she’d be able to defend herself if need be.
“She organizes an underground ring. They meet once a week and fight, sometimes to the death.”
“Jesus. Is there anything evil she hasn’t done?”
“Doesn’t much seem like it. Sorry.” He shrugged apologetically at her.
“Yeah, I’m sorry too. So, how easy will it be to get to her at one of these fights?”
“Are you planning on taking her on out there?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.” She began pacing the porch.
“She’ll be in a private box. So, there’ll be a few guards to get through.” He leaned against a post and watched her.
“How many is a few?”
“Three or four. Varies. Tonight’s a new fighter’s debut. She might have an extra couple guys on just in case.”
“Okay, I have to go scope this place out but, the second I walk in, she’ll see me. So, Nick, what do you suggest I do?” Her tone was slightly acidic more from frustration than anger.
“Go in with a disguise?”
“What, like a nun or something?”
“I was thinking maybe as a man. We could cut up a wig and make you a beard.”
“Okay. If you’re actually Rick Baker in a mask, this could work.”
“I’m not but we will figure something out, trust me on this. You worry about a weapon, you won’t be able to get your rifle in.”
“It’s okay, I’ll adapt. Not to boast but it’s something I’ve become rather good at.” Sasha leaned the rifle against the doorframe—leaving it for Scrum—and pulled a couple knives from her waistband.
“Wow, you’re prepared.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I’ve learned preparedness can be the difference between breathing and lying in a hole.”
“You ready for this?” He motioned for her to go ahead.
She held up her knives before re-sheathing them. “Yeah, see?” She stepped off the porch and into the street turning to keep a wary eye on him.
“I mean mentally. Are you prepared to kill your sister?” They began walking toward the town, sticking to side streets and hiding when
“If I have no other choice.”
“I don’t think you should face her until you are certain you can kill her without hesitation.”
“I don’t have a choice. I’m not talking to her for her sake, I’m doing it for me. This way if I do have to kill her I am assured that I tried—and though I will self-flagellate later—I can feel slightly less guilty about it.”
“I understand. I can’t imagine what you’re going through but, if you can’t kill her please know that I will.”
“Well, if I can’t kill her and she kills me I guess it’s reassuring to know
someone will take her out. Though I can’t say I like the implication that even if I get her to accept help and turn herself in, you’ll shoot her.”
“I can’t say that I like the idea of a serial killer going free or getting three square a day and a roof. Some of these guys live better in prison than out.”
“I have to try.”
“I understand that too. I just don’t believe you sister is capable of saving. She has long ago left her morals behind and her sanity isn’t quite solid either. Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t shoot you on sight. We need to go down here; there’s some folks you need to meet.” He moved down a side street to the right and she followed.
“I am the older sister. I inherited everything until she’s twenty-one. In the event of my death she’s given a custodian by the state. They could bleed the account dry before she gets to it so….” She shrugged.
“Oh. Jesus, I thought she was in her mid-twenties.”
“She’s nineteen, going on thirty-five.”
“Hell of a kill-count for a teenage kid.”
“Don’t I know it.”
He led them up to a house with the curtains closed and knocked on the door in a bizarre pattern. The door opened and a tiny woman led them through darkened corridors to a brightly lit living room with several people.
“Who’s she, Pershing?” A young man stood and looked over Sasha a little too thoroughly for her tastes.
“She’s going to help us. What’s Kayliss’ position now?”
“She’s at the theater already. Lots of folks coming from other towns. Not sure if tonight is a good night.” The young man who spoke looked spooked. “I don’t want to go to jail or die.”
“You won’t have any part of it, Max, they’ll never even know you knew us.” Nick did his best but couldn’t seem to calm the boy’s fears.
Understandable given that if their plan was ferreted out at any point they all faced death.
“So, what’s the plan?” A blonde woman in her thirties crossed her arms in front of her and looked to Nick for answers.
“Guys, this is Sasha Byrd, Kayliss’ sister.”
Panic rose up at his words and Sasha found herself staring at many a person holding a weapon looking at her with rage written clearly across their features.