“Captain,” Black sat up in his seat. “What’s left of our world is just trying to survive. We talk to these other units but they are just as fucked up as everybody else.”
“We’re making headway.”
“No, we’re making nothing.” Black spun his monitor towards the young officer. “We just lost contact with San Francisco. It’s a dead zone!”
Cruse finished his pudding cup and tossed it into an overflowing trash can. He wiped his hands on his class A pants and belched. “You sure it’s not a bad connection L-Tee?”
“No,” Black said quietly. “They’re all gone. All gone.”
“What about Major Heston and his men?” Cruse asked as he pulled out another pudding cup.
“No. The general’s last e-mail said they were being overrun. They were still waiting on reinforcements.” He turned the screen back around to face himself. “We sure saved them.”
“Lieutenant …”
“Look, Captain, we are just wasting time because no one knows what the fuck to do. We’re all just waiting to die or become one of those things.”
Cruse chuckled and pushed himself up on his chair’s armrest. “You’re just feeling sorry for yourself, former lieutenant colonel.” He smirked.
“Wha—”
“Yes, I know all about you, Black.” Cruse reached into a drawer and pulled out a small silver flask. He wagged the container at Black, who slowly shook his head. “This whole thing is a spook operation, L-Tee. I’ve seen all kinds of intel on you. Why they didn’t just line you up and shoot you, I’ll never know.”
Black started to turn red. He felt like jumping across the table and smashing in Cruse’s head. Instead he took a deep breath, something he’d kept from therapy, and leaned back in his seat. “During the evacuation of the Pentagon I saved the Joint Chief and several other biggies’ asses!”
“I would have definitely busted your ass.” The cocky young captain took a swig from the flask. “You’re the guy that fucked this all up. Thank you very much, Lieutenant.” He raised the flask in a toast to Black.
“You asshole!” Fuck therapy. Black jumped up and knocked his monitor off the desk. Cruse recoiled in fear. The older officer quickly grabbed the captain by his shoulders and pinned him to the wall. The flask fell from Cruse’s hand and clattered to the floor.
“S-sit d-down L-Tee! I was just playin’!” Cruse muttered as Black put his elbow to his throat. It would be nothing to smash this bloated piece of shit’s Adams apple. No one would even care.
“L..L-Tee, please !” The captain’s face was starting to drain of color as he dribbled onto his whites, adding to the other stains on his uniform.
There was a roar in Black’s ears. This would be so simple. This pompous ass would pay for ... for … his sins. Black’s sins. His fuck up. He released the captain, who dropped to the floor like a wet bag of cement.
“Shit.” Black looked down at the captain, his arms slack at his sides. Cruse slowly looked up as he rubbed his bruised throat. The lieutenant extended his hand and the captain warily took it. “Sorry,” he said, pulling the officer to his feet. “I lost my head, Captain. I’m truly sorry.”
“No harm,” Cruse said, catching his breath. “I pushed you.” He wiped his sweaty brow. “I didn’t think you had it in ya, Black.”
“Muscle memory.” Black turned to sit down. He suddenly felt cold steel on his neck. Cruse had his Glock stuck in the back of the lieutenant’s neck.
“Ever do that again,” Cruse growled. “I will blow your stinking head off!”
Without thinking, Black turned and grabbed the pistol out of his hand and ejected the magazine. Cruse stood, opened-mouth, not moving. As the mag crashed to the floor, Black slammed the Glock across his face.
Blood spurting from a broken nose, Cruse again tumbled to the floor. Black ejected the chambered round then threw the pistol in the captain’s lap. He shook his head at Cruse who sat, holding his bleeding nose and crying.
“You get that out of your system, Captain?” He walked to the front door of the building where he grabbed the go bag out of his locker and pulled out a Mini-14. “Better go see the medic, he’ll set your nose.”
“Wh-where the hell are you going?” Cruse mumbled.
“To help.” He opened the post’s front door.
“ Help who?” Cruse struggled to his feet.
“Anybody that needs it,” Black said, closing the door and heading out into the nightmarish new world. Maybe he could even save himself.
CANASTA
By Brandon Cracraft
My mother believed that she was going to find the Holy Grail at a garage sale. She watched all of those antique shows and bored me to death with stories about housewives buying some piece of junk for a buck fifty and discovering that it was actually worth millions. I offered to stay home and watch my little sister, but Mom thought that getting up before dawn on a Saturday was a family bonding experience.
She barged into my room and threw my blankets off me. I squinted at the alarm clock. It wasn’t even five o’clock. I only got two nights a week where she allowed me to stay up past nine o’clock, and Mom completely ruined it.
“Get up,” she said. “We’re running late.” I started to make my way to the shower, but she grabbed me by my tee-shirt. “There’s no time. If we don’t leave right now, all the good stuff will be gone.”
Emily stumbled out to the car and slumped into her safety seat. She was still wearing her pink and periwinkle floral nightgown. The only attempt she made to get dressed was to pull on her gaudy lavender cowboy boots. She didn’t even care that her corn blonde hair covered her face like Cousin Itt. There were advantages to being seven years old.
“Can we stop for breakfast?” I asked between yawns. I really wasn’t hungry, but I really needed chocolate milk. Since I wasn’t allowed to drink coffee, chocolate milk acted as my wake-me-up drink.
Mom shot me a glare. “I told you that we don’t have time, Zero.” I started to say something, but those cold, bloodshot eyes demanded that I kept my mouth shut. I was already in trouble. Mom caught me looking at porn on my phone, and she grounded me from my phone and video games for weeks. I didn’t think I could survive if Mom extended it to a month.
When the Rav-4 pulled out of the driveway, I realized that I was still wearing yesterday’s underwear and socks. I felt disgusting. I wasn’t wearing deodorant, and Mom didn’t give me a chance to brush my teeth. I was bare under my hoodie. I was actually so tired that I forgot to put on a shirt. At least, my cargo shorts were clean.
I looked back at Emily, she was fast asleep. I didn’t even know that my little sister could sleep without Captain Unicorn, but she was snoring. I leaned against the window and tried to do the same, but Mom shoved her phone in my hands. “Stay awake!” Mom said, giving my shoulders a shake. “I need you to navigate, Zero.”
“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. I adjusted the seatbelt and leaned against the door to get as comfortable as possible. I hoped that Mom would let me sleep when we actually got to the garage sale, but I knew I would never get so lucky.
Mom repeated that Falcon Heights was the best place for garage sales. I tried my best to hide my contempt. I hated Falcon Heights. I went to a charter school for math and engineering, so some of the Heights kids were bussed in. They always acted like douchebags.
“Look at the size of that house,” Mom said as we approached the destination. I let out a disgusted breath. All of the houses in Falcon Heights looked exactly the same. They designed them to look like colonial mansions, but they were just cheap plaster covered with a brick-like and wood-like substance.
Mom started cursing when she saw other cars already parked in the driveway. “I knew that we would be late,” she said, shooting me a glance. “Get your sister up. Let her know I’ll pick something up for her if it doesn’t cost too much.” She jumped out of the car and practically ran to the card tables covered in wealthier people’s junk.
My heart leape
d in my chest when I actually recognized someone. I quickly ran my hands through my burnt sienna hair, but it still stuck out in a hundred directions. I searched the glove compartment, but I couldn’t find any breath mints.
I couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but he was in my biology class. It was probably “Chett” with two t’s, Psam with a p, or “Tchad” with a t. Most of the kids from Falcon Heights had names like that. The guy wore a too-tight muscle shirt despite the morning cold, and his bangs seemed immune to the wind. His socks probably cost more than everything in my closet. He managed the impossible. The guy still looked cool standing next to his mom.
“I want to go back to bed!” Emily whined. I resisted the urge to tell her that I wanted her to go back to bed. She was wearing pajamas and a pair of cowboy boots that only Barbie could pull off. She made us look like trailer trash.
“Zero!” the kid from my biology class yelled, lifting a muscular arm to wave me over. I swallowed as I set Emily in front of a bunch of ancient toys. I tried to think of the guy’s name, but I had no clue. That always made me feel like an asshole.
The guy talked to me about a bunch of stuff that I didn’t care about. I smiled, nodded, and responded with one word answers. Mostly, I just tuned the dude out. He seemed too dumb to notice.
He made a face when Emily walked over with a rotted stuffed animal that was probably supposed to be a teddy bear a century ago. Living with my sister, I often forgot about the scars on her face. “He looks like me!” Emily said excited, tracing some scars across the ancient beast’s face and then putting it next to her own. I didn’t know how she could put it so close to her face. The horrible thing smelled.
“I don’t think Mom is going to let you buy that,” I said.
Emily shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Mom said I could buy something if I found something that I liked. She’s got to buy it for me. She promised.”
I gritted my teeth. “Do you really want that thing?”
“His name is Canasta.” Emily screamed, and I backed away several paces. The old woman was a mass of wrinkles stretched on bone. She wore thick gaudy rings and a cameo at her throat. Her hair was tied up in an enormous bun that looked like it weighed more than the woman. “Do you children know what Canasta is?”
Normally, I would’ve been offended. I knew with people that old that fifteen and seven were practically the same age. “No, ma’am.”
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” Emily said, hiding behind me. She gripped my shorts so tightly that I was afraid that she was going to pull them off.
The kid from my biology class gave us a smile. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t terrified of the mummy. “This is my Great Aunt Eudora,” he said. He pointed to the table where a woman as obese as the other woman was scrawny sat. “That’s my Great Aunt Xantippe. They are the ones that are holding this garage sale.”
“Our little brother owned Canasta,” Eudora said, her dentures sliding around her mouth as she took. I was surprised that a woman that rich didn’t spring for a little crazy glue to keep them in place. “He’s sixty now and quite touched.” She tapped her forehead. “The doctor said that Canasta isn’t good for him. We have to give him up.”
I forced a smile. “I don’t think our mother is going to let her have him,” I said, trying to get Emily to release the bear.
My little sister bit me. I let out a curse word that sent my mother running over. For a second, I thought she was going to embarrass me by punishing me in front of the wealthier people. Thankfully, her pride prevented her from giving me anything but a stern luck.
“I want Canasta,” Emily said, starting to cry. “Please don’t let him take him from me. I love him.”
“Alastair Dale Zerowky! What are you doing to your sister?” Mom said, once again assuming that everything was my fault. I flushed red and my hands curled in my fist. The only thing that kept me silent was the unspoken threat of a month without phone or video games.
“Let your sister have her toy. It can’t be more than---“ Mom looked over at Eudora, starting to fish out some change at the bottom of her gigantic purse.
“We are selling Canasta for ten dollars,” Eudora said. “That teddy bear is very old and very valuable. We just don’t have the time or energy to find a proper dealer. Besides, we really want Canasta out of the house.”
“Does your brother have Alzheimer’s?” I asked.
“No,” the kid from my biology class said. His face twisted into a crooked grin. “Great Uncle Jerome was born nuts.”
“Devin!” Eudora yelled. The kid from my biology class winced. So that was his name. I should’ve guessed. I think my school had two dozen of them.
My mother focused on the only thing that was important to her. “So that teddy bear is valuable?” She dropped the change and took out her wallet.
***
The last time I got grounded, Mom actually got me a babysitter. It was horrific. Jason Higgins made straight A’s, so Mom thought that made him a good person. He was a sadist. As soon as she left for her date, he ordered me to get my jammies on. That was the word he used: jammies. He didn’t even let me pick them. He went through my drawer and gave me a pair of underwear and pajamas to wear. Even though he was only two years older than me, he talked to me like I was a little kid. When eight o’clock rolled around, he made me go to bed at the exact same time as Emily.
Everyone at school knew that Jason Higgins babysat me. The bastard made sure that everyone knew. He made up all kinds of stories about me. He told people that I slept with a stuffed tiger. Mister Rufus sat on my bed where he could keep guard against roving nightmares. That was completely different from sleeping with a stuffed animal.
Whenever I passed Jason Higgins in the hall, he smirked at me and talked in baby talk. I couldn’t imagine what he had planned if Mom ever called him to babysit me a second time. I just knew that my reputation couldn’t survive it.
“Come on, Mom,” I pleaded, “you know that you can trust me.” I gave her my best, boyish smile. I usually wore tee-shirts, but I chose a button up before I talked to her. I wanted to look more responsible.
Mom gave me that look, and my smile faded. “I can’t believe I caught you looking at that disgusting stuff. Imagine if you were looking at pornography, and you saw a picture of your sister naked.”
My face twisted in disgust. “Mom, that’s gross. I wouldn’t look at kiddie porn. I guess, I would call the police or something.”
Mom let out a frustrated sigh. “All right, smart guy, how would you feel if you got on a porn site and saw a picture of me?”
Coach Robinson laughed. “Is there something that you haven’t told me about, Isabelle?” He winked at my mom. Mom started dating Coach Robinson when I was twelve years old. He was the closest thing that I had to do a dad since my father decided to drink his weight in beer then go for a late night drive with Emily.
“You’re not helping, Bobby,” she shot back at her boyfriend. Coach Robinson put up his hands in a surrender pose and then made a motion like he was zipping his lip shut.
“The point is, Zero,” Mom continued, shooting one last glance at Coach Robinson, “Pornography demeans women. While you were playing with yourself, did you ever once think about what drove those women to degrade themselves like that?”
I swallowed. “There were guys, too.” I swore that I would never get caught watching porn again. I had to be extra careful when I got computer access back.
“You can trust him, Isabelle,” Coach Robinson said. Every once in a while, he reminded me that he wasn’t a complete jerk. “Think about it, you took away his phone. You password protected the computer and all the video game systems. Besides, Zero is a good kid.” Mom started to say something, so Coach Robinson didn’t let her. “He screwed up. We all screwed up when we’re fifteen. He’s in trouble for it.”
“I would just feel safer if we called Jason Higgins,” Mom said, starting the long search for his phone number in her bottomless pit of a purse.
Coach Robinson gently grabbed her hand. The two of them exchanged a look, and she sighed. “Get your sister,” Mom told me. “Bobby and I have to tell you something.” She looked both scared and excited. After three and a half years, the big guy must’ve finally proposed to her. I guess I could get used to seeing Coach Robinson’s pot belly in the morning. Mom certainly married worse men.
Emily played with Canasta nonstop since Mom bought him at the garage sale. She called him her “scar baby.” I hoped she told her counselor that when she saw her at the end of the month. Her obsession with that ugly piece of junk wasn’t normal. Maybe she remembered more about that night with Dad than she let on.
“I’m not going down there unless I can bring Canasta,” Emily said, holding the beast tight to her chest. “All the other stuff animals make fun of him, because of his scars. The dolls are the worst. They hate anything that isn’t as pretty as him.” She scowled at me. “You don’t like him either.”
“You definitely need to show him to your counselor,” I said. Emily asked a bunch of questions, but I just led her downstairs by the hand. She pulled away from me. When I reached out again, she slapped it away.
“I need both hands to hug Canasta,” she explained. “I’m the only one who could ever love someone like him.”
Mom and Coach Robinson were seated on the couch. He held her hand. I noticed that it was shaking. I hated seeing my mom scared. I vowed that I wouldn’t say anything stupid, and I wouldn’t fight with either Emily or Coach Robinson.
“Bobby and I were talking last week about something very important, something that was going to affect all of us.” I looked down at Emily. All of her attention was focused on Canasta. “I want you kids to know that there are going to be some changes around here.”
“Nightly spankings for everyone,” Coach Robinson blurted out. He always tried to crack jokes, but he was seldom ever successful. “Three for me.” He let out a nervous laugh and swallowed sweat. It was pouring down his face. He couldn’t hold my mother’s hand.
Happy Little Horrors Page 18