by Tim Moon
“Who says I’m pregnant?” she asked, folding her arms underneath her ample breasts. “And we went over the name thing already, right?”
Koby ignored the last question. “I couldn’t help but overhear you and Beau. He said you were pregnant,” Koby said in a serious tone.
“I just told him that so he’d keep his hands off me. Not that it’s any of your business,” she said and turned to stare out the side window.
A few minutes later, they came to the end of the long driveway and pulled underneath an open sided awning next to neatly stacked cords of chopped and split wood. Koby climbed out of the van and led the way to the house. Jessica followed silently.
Opening the front door and walking inside, Koby was delighted when the battery powered lights picked up their motion and flicked on to provide them with a dim glow so they could make their way around. Several lanterns adorned the walls around the room. Koby walked up to each one, turned the fuel knobs on, and pressed the push button strikers to ignite the flames.
“No power?” Jessica asked.
“Nope, none needed. These are fueled by natural gas, sitting in a huge tank out back. When that runs dry, we can switch to the biomass system my cousin installed as a backup. There’s almost no manual labor involved. He was kind of lazy. Hell, even the fireplace turns on with a switch.” He demonstrated the ease of instant ambiance. “Have a seat over by the fire. I'll see about some drinks.”
He went to the kitchen, but found his hands were still shaking from what he’d done to Beau just a short time ago. Jessica wasn’t joking when she said he would kill them. If he ever found them, that is. Koby knew it’d be impossible. He went to the bathroom to wash his hands and face, to try and maintain some semblance of composure. Nothing would kill his chances with the hot stripper in his living room like a sweaty face and blood-flecked hands.
When Koby emerged from the bathroom, he glanced into the living room and saw that Destiny had managed to change out of her mini skirt and spaghetti strapped tank top into a pair of pink yoga pants and a loose fitting t-shirt, transforming her back into Jessica. She sat by the fire, staring at the dancing tendrils of flame. Jessica had chosen a spot on the rug and leaned back against the couch near the base of the hearth.
Koby opened the liquor cupboard and, ignoring the need for glasses or cups, grabbed two bottles of rum and returned to the living room to find Jessica gone. In her place was Destiny. The stage act had returned and she now lay fully naked on the plush rug. Destiny smiled at the look on his face as she motioned him over with a seductive finger, silently encouraging him to come closer.
Koby wondered for a moment why she’d made the sudden change. But the suspicion died as his lust grew. He pushed all other thoughts aside and smiled as he took in the sight of the beautiful woman.
He walked over and set the bottles of booze down on the floor next to the couch and picked up the sweatpants and t-shirt she had been wearing only moments ago. Handing them back to her, he smiled and said, “It's not going to be like that. Maybe one day, but you're not obligated to ...”
Snatching her clothes back, she glowered at him with a look of insult burning in her eyes. “I was only trying to show my appreciation.”
Koby understood. “Look it's been a hell of a night. Why don't we have a drink and get some sleep.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said confidently.
“Yea, what's that?” Koby asked.
Destiny stood up, placing her clothes back on, instantly morphing into Jessica, “You’re all talk. I see it all the time with guys like you. You’re secretly into guys, but you can't handle the guilt of it, so you come into the club to prove your manliness. Look how straight I am,” she said in a mocking male tone. “No biggie. It explains why you're such a big tipper.”
“I am in no way whatsoever gay,” Koby said in his own defense. This time his voice was the one with the insulted tone.
“What then? You got a wife and kids or something?”
Koby twisted the top of the rum bottle off and took an impressive drag, chugging until the burn became too much. Bringing it down from his lips, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and plopped down into the chair opposite the couch. “Wife ...kids ... not anymore.” The bottle found its way back to his lips.
Jessica didn't push the subject; she didn't have to. She knew they were dead just by his reaction. If they weren't dead, she knew they would have been the ones there with him instead of her. She bit her lip as she realized how stupid she was acting. Of course he would have brought his family to this survival hideout cabin, not some stripper.
Jessica grabbed the other bottle, holding it up in order to make a toast. “To family.”
“To family,” Koby replied as the glass necks clinked upon contact. After chugging a good bit of it down, Koby lifted the bottle, burped, and noticed he’d already finished half of it. He’d have to slow down if he wanted to do anything other than sleep the next day. Koby made a face to himself and muttered, “What’s the point?”
“Sorry?” Jessica asked, glancing over at him.
Koby shook his head. “So what's your story, Destiny?”
“You mean Jessica.”
“Yes, my apologies of course. Jessica, which of the three C’s got you working up in Beau’s place?”
“The three C’s?” she asked, confused.
Koby stood up, his legs wobbled thanks to the night’s mixture of rum and whiskey, and he quickly sat back down. “Well, it's a theory of mine you see. Only reason a beautiful chick like you gets into that line of work is for one of the 3 C’s.”
“And they are?” she again asked, raising the bottle to her lips.
“College, children, or coke!” Koby wasn't sure if she would laugh or be offended. The last time he had expounded this theory on a lady of the night it hadn't gone well.
She rolled her eyes so hard, he felt dizzy, but after a deep breath, she admitted, “College at first and then coke. No children though, thank God.”
“You got daddy issues I bet too, huh?” Koby asked jokingly, but as the words came out of his mouth he realized they sounded harsher than he meant them.
“No, not like some of the other girls. My dad was a cop actually. Let's just say he wasn't real proud of me when he found out I was dancing. But he took it pretty well, I guess.”
“Shit, raised by a cop ... What's that like?”
“Eh, I guess I didn't really think about it. I mean we had guns and he taught me how to shoot and shit like that. It wasn't all doom and gloom.”
Koby took another drink and motioned up to the rifle above the fireplace. “Yea, guns. Never had one until, well you know, the world went to shit.”
Jessica smiled. “It’s a hunting rifle. It should do us well out here.”
“Yep a three thousand and six model,” Koby said, feeling a little over confident.
“You mean a 30.06?” Jessica said, rolling her eyes again.
“Yeah, yeah, exactly,” he agreed sheepishly. “A 30.06 ...”
Koby smiled as he finished off his bottle. Their small talk grew more and more sporadic as the night crept toward dawn, and Koby felt himself drifting off into a rum fueled dreamland full of happiness next to the romantic warmth of the fireplace.
Chapter 4
Koby awoke and knew right away that there would be pain in his shoulder and hands from the previous night's brawling action. He was right. Koby also knew there would be pain in his head from the copious amount of intoxicating liquors that had gone down oh so smoothly at the strip club and again, fireside at his cousin's bug out cabin. He was also right about that. Koby knew there would be pain in his stomach from a hunger that was present even before he passed out on the rug near the fireplace with Jessica.
None of these pains concerned Koby as he awoke to the sunlight breaking into the house through the east window as it cleared the dense row of vegetation and taller trees across the lake. The pain he did not account for was the pain in his ankles and wris
ts.
With some effort, Koby attempted to roll away from the sun to bury his face in the pillow, but he was stopped short by something clasping his wrist. He yanked quickly at the bedpost and went from a dazed stupor to fully aware of his surroundings in the blink of his hungover eyes. It took half a second to realize he was bound to all four corners of the bed.
Koby laid there, staring at the ceiling, stretched out and tied up like a frog being prepped for dissection in a sixth grade science class. A burning sensation radiated from his heart. The only reason he was in this predicament was because he trusted a stripper. This made it all the worse.
What in the hell was I thinking?
“Jessica!” he yelled.
“Jessica, get your ass in here!” Koby pleaded again with exasperated words.
There was no response. His words dissipated in the silent and empty cabin. With no verbal response and not a single creaking floorboard, Koby knew he was alone. At first he had a slight glimmer of hope this was some form of kinky sex that he couldn't remember partaking in, but eventually the fact he was alone grew on him.
Alone to rot away and die. All the preparation he had done was for nothing.
Desperation seized him and Koby thrashed around with the hope that his restraints would give or at least tear away from his skin enough to remove a bloody appendage. Koby fought against the ropes, but all they did was twist tighter, burning and cutting deeper into his skin. Blood smeared the rope and bed sheet; it began to trickle down his forearm and pool on the bed at his elbow. Pain.
Koby stopped fighting his restraints. He was panting. But suddenly, he began to laugh. It started as a small giggle that eventually broke out into the full belly shaking, gut busting symphony of hilarity.
“I should've fucked her,” he said out loud laughing. “Oh my God, Koby. You idiot,” he continued. “You should have fucked her!” He was now yelling as the laughter gave way to tears, which eventually gave way to boredom, hunger, and pain.
Hours passed.
Days passed.
Delirious at this point, Koby woke up to see the setting sun casting shadows on the opposite wall.
Two days he thought to himself, figuring he might not make it through the night. At least he’d be free from this misery.
He began to fantasize about his own death and contemplate the odds of his destination in the afterlife, when the cabin’s silence was interrupted by a low rumble. The rumble grew louder and within seconds it quickly became evident that it was not a sound created by one source, but by multiple sources. Noisy machines of some sort were quickly approaching and even though he wanted to be freed from the restraints, he worried about who might be out there.
Through the walls of the cabin and thanks to his delirious state, Koby couldn't exactly make out what the noise was. The pain from his restraints let him know that he was still alive, although he wondered if the thundering roar was angels coming to save him or demons en route to claim his soul for the darker side of the afterlife. He was okay with either option, as long as it released him from the goddamned bed.
The sounds grew louder and louder until the walls vibrated and dust motes fell from the ceiling. Suddenly the movement of the sound stopped outside the cabin and it was clear it was motorcycles. Multiple motorcycles. Dread filled Koby as he lay silent on the bed, unsure of what to do. Screaming for help sounded like a good plan, but he understood the enemies he’d made in the last few days had found him. He realized wasting away on the bed was the better option. Given what he’d done at Beau’s Belles, he knew he didn’t want to find out what the men coming for him might find amusing as retribution for his crimes against them.
Koby remained silent.
“This the place?” a voice asked, entering the cabin’s squeaky main doorway.
“Gots to be,” another answered.
Both voices were strangers to him; perhaps there was hope and these scavengers would be his angels after all.
A third voice he did recognize entered the front room. “We'll I’ll be damned. Little computer nerd got himself a fuck shack out here in the sticks.”
Beau! Koby thought to himself, grimacing as the rope ground open the wounds on his wrists and ankles when he began thrashing around again. It was a pathetic last ditch effort to free any part of his body so that he could escape.
The sounds of bouncing on the bed were enough to draw everyone’s attention to Koby’s bedroom. The door slowly opened, letting a flood of light into the room from the gas lanterns that were still lit in the rest of the small cabin.
“The bitch wasn't lying. Now I almost feel bad about her face,” said the first man to enter the room.
“Her face? Shit look at mine,” Beau said with an angry growl.
Beau took a deep breath. He was close and Koby looked up into the large man's face backlit by the lanterns. The strip club owner’s lower lip had been torn and sewn crudely back together. It was swollen and bulging from the impact of the fire extinguisher. Koby wished he hadn’t stopped with just that one hit.
Beau leaned in to speak to Koby and he could tell that something else was different. His grizzled face featured fresh burns, red scaly skin, and patches of missing hair on his cheeks and head. Koby wondered if the fire had reached inside the club and did more damage than he originally intended.
“I got some repair work that needs doing on my security system, you know, on account of the fire. I was going to hire you, but it looks like you’re a little tied up,” Beau said with a wicked sneer as he drilled his fist into Koby’s exposed stomach. He pounded Koby so hard that he seemed to be trying to bury his knuckles deep enough to feel the mattress below.
Air blasted out of Koby’s mouth and he fought the urge to hurl. Nothing would come up anyway; his stomach was as dry and barren as a sand dune. Koby tensed in pain, pulling against his restraints, yet unable to enter the protective fetal position that his body naturally craved. .
The three men stood above Koby and laughed. Beau wiped his eye and sat down on the bed, forcing Koby’s eyelids open.
“You uglied up my face real good, Eggroll. You burnt down my club, you destroyed our rides, and you stole one of my whores. I sure as hell hope you got enough left in you to feel what's about to happen.”
Chapter 5
Gary Kobayashi felt the top of his feet dragging across the wooden planks of the dock. Beau’s goons pulled him to the end of the wooden pathway that sat just inches above the water line. Koby had come to learn their names and while he didn’t recognize Esper or Q, he hated them both. Koby figured these were only nicknames, but in the end, it didn't really matter. He didn't need to know their real names to want them dead.
Over the last few hours, Koby suffered quietly on the bed, watching the two strangers and their half-burned, toothless leader destroy everything in the cabin that was set to be his home for years to come. It all slipped away.
Then the meticulously paced beatings began. They brought him to within an inch of his life. The night’s long hours passed with Koby’s screams filling the air. After tying him into a new position seated in one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen, they began to remove each one of his fingernails. First on one hand and then the other, using a pair of channel locks. Pleading, crying, and cursing, Koby quickly wished he was back in the bed where Jess ... Destiny had left him to die.
He wondered why he hadn’t passed out yet. The pain was incredible and all consuming. Koby wondered how much more his body could take before it gave out. Deep down, he didn’t want to die. He definitely didn’t want to die tied up and helpless. But he was too tired to formulate an escape plan and too weak to break free, even if he wasn’t bound. For the first time ever, he decided dying in his sleep via the fever seemed like a fantastic way to go.
“I’m sorry,” Koby sobbed. “I’m sorry. Please stop!”
Esper burst out laughing. The cigar in his mouth bobbed in time with his shoulders. “Awww, the little chink is sorry,” he said sarcastically. He began to
laugh again. It started as a deep rumbling laugh that turned into a smoker’s cough.
Koby stopped begging and glared at him with a mix of hate and fear in his teary eyes.
Esper took the cigar out of his mouth and held it menacingly in front of Koby’s face. The sick bastard had found a sadistic pleasure in extinguishing his cigars in Koby's armpits.
Koby braced for the tip to touch his flesh. He grimaced, but was determined to bite back any noise before it escaped his lips. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
The smell of his burning flesh was almost as unbearable as the searing pain. Koby had grunted upon contact, but that was it. He sat still, breathing hard, with his head bent over, watching droplets fall to the floor and slowly expanding into a puddle of his own blood. He wished he were dead.
Then it all went black.
Chapter 6
Koby turned his head, shielding his swollen, aching eyes from the rising sun’s daylight as the sun broke over the eastern ridge. He found he was still sitting in the chair, which had now been moved to the end of the dock. However his hands were free, so he raised them to his face. Beneath his nail less fingertips, he could tell he would never look the same again.
Suddenly, Esper knocked Koby’s hands back down. The blow was so vicious, and Koby was so weak, that he fell to the floor. Esper stepped on his hand and said, “I bet you thought she loved you, huh?”
“Only thing that bitch loves more than money is the powder,” the one they called Q said.
While Koby specifically remembered Destiny telling him she wasn't into coke anymore, he wasn't surprised she hadn't been exactly truthful with him. What drug addict was?
“You must be God awful in the sack computer boy,” Esper said, holding Koby’s head up by his hair. “Shit, one night with you and she comes a runnin’ back home looking for a fix.”
Q laughed. “Too bad she can't snort it anymore on account of what Beau did to her face.”
“Shame to destroy something so beautiful,” Esper said in agreement. He pulled a huge knife out from somewhere and placed it under Koby’s throat.