by Mark Tufo
More than one axle had been broken in half on this stretch. I wonder what the Canadians thought when they used this road to come down and do some shopping for Christmas. Their free medical came with a hefty tax burden and they tended to make some of their bigger purchases down in the States. You’d think we would have paved the road in gold to have them bring their dollars down here, but not that crappy Canadian shit which always seemed to be worth seventy-seven cents on the dollar and would choke up vending machines. The highway was in complete disuse now. Tree branches, leaves and even occasionally trees, had fallen across the road. Grass and weeds were sprouting up through a variety of cracks. Nature would reclaim this scar upon her surface within the next twenty years, maybe sooner. I plodded on. Silent vast armies of pine trees watched my passing, the only thing that let me know I wasn’t caught on some twisted loop were the mile markers and the signs that denoted the next township.
I figured at some point I’d see a moose or a bear, anything alive, to let me know that the world still lived. Nothing, not even a chipmunk, even the Maine state birds were conspicuously missing—by that I mean mosquitoes. It’s a local’s joke. Those things got so thick you could subsist on the ones you inadvertently swallowed. How’s that for a visual? Tasty little critters, especially if they’re fat with the blood of their victims. I’m kidding. Even in my state I found that particularly disgusting. Maybe it was because I had more in common with the little bastards than I cared to admit. It was twenty-two and a half miles before the next N, and if I was being honest with myself, there was even a chance that it was just litter. Three large branches were placed in the middle of the road, the first two were placed correctly, the third was askew, giving the letter a very drunken appearance. I could see Justin telling his younger brother to give it up, that “the old man” wasn’t coming. “Captain Obvious strikes again,” I sniffed.
Maybe I should have heeded my son’s imaginary words. I had no place among them. I was a constant reminder of things past. They deserved the right to be happy, to start over, to live what remained of their lives in peace. Who knows, maybe they had even started a community. A small town full of Talbots. That was a slightly terrifying thought. What would I do if I traveled another twenty miles and never saw another road marker? At any point they could have cut into the woods and I could pass as close as a couple of hundred yards and would never be the wiser. I kept moving forward, even as I started laying on more thoughts as to why I should turn around. There was some stupid, stubborn part of me that wanted to see them one last time. Tell them I loved them, and that I always would.
I’d gone another twenty something miles when I came across my last marker. At first, I wasn’t even sure what it was. I’d been so intent on looking for Ns I had a difficult time reconciling the W. Funny how with my head hanging down watching the way my feet moved that I’d failed to see the beauty all around me. I was atop what the locals would call a mountain. Those in Colorado wouldn’t have even been able to muster up the word hill, but it’s all relevant, isn’t it? I was looking out over a large, expansive clearing. A blue lake shimmered in the distance. I could see a small herd of deer grazing off to the side of the meadow. If there could somehow not be any ticks down there I could nearly call it idyllic. Garden of Eden-ish, maybe. They’d chosen well from the look of it. Had they known about this place or were they smart enough to keep their heads up as they traveled?
I noticed a wisp of smoke on the far side of the lake; the cloud that had been covering my heart finally lifted. And still I stood there. So close…maybe it was just enough to know where they were. I could know they were safe. I crossed the road and sat on the guardrail that would have, in theory, prevented wayward motorists from toppling down the embankment. Rocks and scree lined the entire hillside, it would not be an easy trek down…if I decided to do it. By the time I stood up, a few hours had elapsed, I was fairly convinced I’d worn a permanent indent in my ass from the rail. I’d made up my mind to go back to Ron’s, I’d seen what I came for. That was right up until I caught movement on the outer edge of the large meadow. At first glance I was pretty sure I was finally getting my first glimpse of the infamous yeti. A hairy beast emerged from the shadows of the trees, he was immediately followed by another.
I sighed when I realized it was too small to be what I wanted it to be, still though, a family of black bears was an uncommon sight. And walking on their hind legs, that was even more impressive. Then I saw the barrels of their rifles. My heart lurched, were these my kids? It was impossible to tell from this distance. I don’t recall them ever having that type of clothing but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Were they hunting the deer? I thought that might be the case for a few minutes, until they started heading away from the herd and towards the wisp of smoke. In the span of a handful of seconds I knew exactly what they were hunting. Wait, were they though? Or was my fucking view of the world so damned skewed that anybody with a gun was about to kill people I loved? This was not something I was going to let go to chance.
I practically ran down the pebble-strewn hillside bringing more loose material with me than a hundred years of runoff could accomplish. I reached for the rifle I should have had across my back.
“You have got to be kidding me, Talbot. You come to a gun fight with a knife. This is so fucking typical of you, man.” I pulled my well cared for KA-BAR from the sheath attached to my belt. “Just you and me, buddy.” I knew a guy in the Marine Corps who had an axe, he’d not only named it but talked to as well. I figured he’d get out on a medical discharge; instead they promoted him. I was in no danger of being spotted quite yet, I’d only been able to see the men because of my enhanced eyesight. It would be another hundred or so yards before I would have to make my way a little more stealthily. “Unless one of them has a scope, dumbass. Okay, Talbot this Sméagol shit has to stop; we’re not getting anywhere arguing with us. Agreed.” I did my best to stifle all the parts of me that wanted to voice their concerns or opinions. I had a mission: kill first, ask what the hell they were doing later. Nope, nope, nope…civility, man. Find out what they’re doing, then kill them. “Yes, precious. You’re killing me man.”
“Hey fuckers, how about if I don’t have to kill them at all?” That quieted the voices; don’t think they were happy about it though, there was some mumbling in the background. The grass was a lot taller than I was expecting once I got down to it. Nearly up to my navel, which would make a concealed approach much easier. When I hit about halfway to where I had last seen them, I got down into a low crouch. They couldn’t see me, which was great. The problem was, I couldn’t see them either. Plus, I had the added benefit of not knowing where the hell I was going. If it weren’t for the smell, I would have stumbled right into their rally point. I’m very well versed in the stench of death and disease. These three were emanating that most awful of smells. I imagined a raw, maggot covered turkey atop a long-abandoned counter top; the unmistakable, slightly sweet, sickly cloying stink of rotten meat. The funk of it was nearly a physical barrier; my eyes watered and my nose protested the abuse. I kept my lips clenched together, fearful that I might “eat” some of what was coming off of them. I didn’t dare get any closer, figured I was somewhere around twenty feet away. Didn’t have to; the way they were talking, they didn’t expect they would be heard by anyone.
“We’ll wait until nightfall to go in.” Voice sounded feminine, older maybe. Chain smoker, possibly. Descendant of Deneaux was almost a foregone conclusion, just because that’s the way this shit works.
“Let’s just go take them now. There are kids.”
I didn’t know exactly what he was implying by that, and even more importantly I didn’t want to know. My kids had expanded their brood, finding people they themselves loved and cherished and whom I barely acknowledged existed. It was after my first grandson was born that I realized I could let no one else into my heart. I could no longer tolerate the heartache that would inevitably come. For right or wrong and through no fault of th
eir own, I’d closed myself off to the lot of them.
The third thing-person merely grunted. What in the hell was I dealing with here? I was picturing something along the lines of the Goonies. You know, a wicked, filthy mother with two horrible boys who commit crimes with her. Maybe a female Saruman and two orcs is a better example.
“They have guns, too, and there is more of them, we’ll hit them when they least expect it. They only have one guard right before the sun dawns and she always looks like she’s about to fall asleep.”
“She the pretty one?” the first man asked.
I could only wonder as to how long they’d been scouting out the encampment. What were the odds I’d got here on the very day they had the compunction to strike the camp? Every time I doubted there were higher forces in play, something like this would invariably happen, and I would regain belief. I couldn’t decide if I should wait for the cover of night myself or not. Maybe my mind wasn’t made up but my legs were already taking matters into their own hands, so to speak. I was slowly moving forward. When I got to within ten feet, I caught my first glimpse of my adversaries. They very much looked like the animal furs they wore. All three of them had long strands of unkempt hair, enmeshed within it were all manner of leaves, sticks, and what could have been bones used to braid hair around. They were small enough to be a child’s fingers, I honestly hoped that wasn’t the case. It was impossible to tell if this was a familial unit, the two men seemed to be related, they both had beards that covered nearly their entire faces, leaving only prominent noses and small eyes distinguishable. I can’t imagine what was hidden under all that hair that could possibly enhance those less than attractive features. The woman, on the other hand, through the tangle of hair atop her head and the layer of grime upon her face looked rather stunning.
I find it funny how we as humans, or more accurately me, because I’m the only one here, always find it so hard to believe that attractive people can be monsters. It’s much easier to think the beasties under the bed are hideously disfigured grotesqueries. The woman in front of me could easily have been a runway model; no way she was evil. Even sitting, I could tell she was tall. It was impossible to see much of her body under the carpet of a coat she was wearing but by the way she carried herself, I’d say she was thin, too, and not that anemic, “I’m going to fall over if I don’t have a saltine” thin, either, but rather that muscular tone of an athlete, like a volleyball or tennis player. Maybe all monsters did not look externally like the things they harbored inside, but her eyes, they told a different story. Malice burned through those sky blue eyes, no mistake. The downward slant of her eyebrows gave her an expression of intense hatred for all things. The two with her had to be related or she would have killed them merely for the sport.
“Grunter” had pulled out a pouch of food which somehow stank worse than he did. He grunted, thus the name, and smacked his lips with every disgusting chew. The other guy looked longingly over at him as he ate. Only the woman looked somewhat on guard, her rifle was leaning up against the log she was sitting on. They’d gotten comfortable and were merely waiting for the right time to strike.
“You gonna share?” the other guy asked Grunter.
Grunter grunted.
Typical of him, I thought.
“I’m gonna grab some shut eye,” he announced when he realized he wasn’t going to get any. He laid down in the middle of the small clearing, which looked like it had been hastily built a few days previously, a week at the most. There were three logs for sitting and a small rock enclosure for a fire, to take the chill out of the air. I was convinced it wasn’t for cooking, this trio seemed to eat everything raw and possibly rotten or even wriggling.
“You start farting in your sleep, Leonard, and I’ll shove my knife so far up your ass I’ll scrape your colon,” the woman said.
“That actually wouldn’t be that far,” Grunter said after licking a fat dollop of congealed grease off his finger.
Leonard apparently thought the threat was real, he turned his posterior away from the woman. “Fuck you, Lilac.” And with that he closed his eyes.
Grunter kept pulling dirty satchels of food out from various hidden spots on his coat. Each one looked more disgusting than the previous. I moved so quickly through the remaining brush that Lilac did not even have the time to grab her rifle. I brought my blade down, skewering the bag of vile food and straight into Grunter’s right leg, I twisted it back and forth once before pulling it up and out—a loud sucking squelching noise announced the blade’s release. I was expecting a scream; I guess it wasn’t too much of a shock when he grunted loudly instead.
“Don’t even think about it, darlin’,” I said as I swiveled the knife to Lilac’s throat; she had been reaching for her rifle. A sly smile spread across her lips as she put her hands up. I was impressed with Leonard, he’d drifted off pretty fast and was apparently a sound sleeper as well; he’d yet to stir.
I don’t know why I hesitated. Maybe some nagging, remote part of me wished for better in the human condition. How could I have been through so much and not known better? “What are your intentions with those people over there?” I nodded with my head in the general direction I figured my kids had set up shop.
“The fuck business is it of yours?” Grunter asked through gritted teeth. He had both of his hands plunged down on his heavily bleeding wound, doing his best to stem the tide of an injury that I’d made sure was going to be a bitch to close up.
I drove the knife into his other exposed leg. His head nearly collapsed to his knees from the pain. I think I broke his nose with the handle as I yanked it free.
“Funny how much suction you get with that groove in the blade.”
“What the fuck is going on?” I heard the cocking of a pistol hammer behind me. Leonard had sat up and drawn a gun from his hip. I slammed my knife so far through his neck the blade protruded from the far side; the squelch as I pulled it free heralded a spray of black blood. The gun was all but forgotten as it dropped to the ground. Not by Lilac, though. She watched it like a hawk. Leonard didn’t even really have time to figure out he was dead before he fell back over. He looked very much like he had when I had come into the clearing, except for the spreading pool of blood.
I turned back to Lilac, who was fixated on the gun by her feet, her hands had come down somewhat. They shot back up when she realized I was looking right at her.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “This area is where we live and hunt. We don’t bother anyone and you come in here and kill my friend and wound my brother.”
“He’s your brother?” I pointed to Grunter. “Does he know he’s adopted?”
“Fuck you,” Grunter hissed.
“I’ll ask you again, what are your intentions with those people?”
Lilac licked her lips. “We…we just wanted to meet them, maybe join up. Safety in numbers. That kind of thing.” She was finally getting it, that maybe this was a dangerous situation. Gorgeous didn’t necessarily mean intelligent.
“On the scale of believability, sweetheart, your response isn’t even registering.”
Grunter tried to move, but the muscles in his legs were so sufficiently damaged he was not going to be able to do it with any degree of success. Dancing was definitely out.
“Are there more of you?” I literally heard crickets chirp in response. “Do either of you truly believe yourselves to be in a position to deny me? I just offed Leonard, Grunter here is going to be in some serious trouble without some modicum of medical attention; and you Lilac you look like you could have played a nurse in some horror b-movie…but I’m guessing that’s not your forte, helping people I mean.”
“What do you want?” she nearly shrieked. I assumed waterworks would be next, and I was correct. Another lifetime ago I would have walked away right there and then.
“The truth would be fantastic—so few people are willing to part with it. It would be refreshing to hear it from you.”
“She already told you!�
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“Grunter, the next time I strike you it’s going to be in your sister’s favorite place.”
Grunter shifted to protect his crotch. “Well, that’s fucking awkward, I was going to say eye. But hey, don’t let me judge.”
“What do you want me to say?” Grunter grumbled.
“Just answer the question without all the bullshit.”
“Fine. We was going to sneak up on them, cut their throats, fuck most of them while they were dying, and then piss on their cold corpses.”
“The truth shall set you free, my friend.” I did as I promised and shoved that blade into his right eye socket. Gave the knife a slight swirl, hoping that maybe in those final few milliseconds I’d corrected the misfiring synapses in his malformed brain and he could suddenly see the error of his ways.
“You…you killed him!”
“You catch on quick. There’s already so much ugliness in this world it breaks my heart that someone as beautiful as you contributed to that.”
“I…I could change,” she huffed out quickly. She looked over to Grunter. “You…you could teach me how to be good. I’d do my very best, and I’m…I could be very…nice to you.”
“See, that’s a little better on your part. Not really ‘Nicole’ worthy, in terms of performance, but you’re on the right track. Although having your life on the line is a big motivator.” I opened my mouth slightly and let my canines elongate. “What makes you think I’m qualified to teach goodness?” I tore into her neck. I tried not to drink her blood but it was like going to a Phish festival and not tripping. What’s the point? It was after I pushed her lifeless body away I noticed the small blade protruding from my midsection.
“Bitch stuck me,” I laughed. Blade couldn’t have been more than a couple of inches long, I don’t know what she’d intended to do with it. I admired her effort, but her arm would have got tired from the repeated stabs long before it did any real damage. I don’t know what was worse, that I’d just killed three people or that I didn’t give a shit about it. I walked out of that clearing without once even thinking about looking back. I’d gone about a half mile, when I could smell the smoke and hear voices in the distance. There were sounds of construction going on. That night, when I could get a better look, I saw that they were fixing up a structure that was already in place.