by Kuhn, Steve
Entry 115
Well… it wasn’t much of an argument. The discussion, more than anything, revolved around a question we hadn’t really given much thought to until Alyse innocently asked us all, “Why did you bring them here in the first place?”
Honestly, I didn’t have an answer for her. We got what we had come for. Fart was recovered and buried. D-Prime was ours again. Lilly got her dinosaur back. We had decimated Bianca’s entire operation, and for once, I didn’t feel guilty about the blood on my hands. None of us did, except maybe Cutty, and that’s just because he had spilled the most blood of all. Moreover, nearly every time Cutty did make a mess of someone living, it was in someone else’s best interest. We weren’t monsters. We were serving justice. Why didn’t we just kill these two like the others?
Kylee offered the first explanation, saying, “Because, even though I can’t forgive what she did to Lilly, it’s not my place. I figured Murphy would want to have a word with her for what she did to his dog.”
JC told her, “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I wasn’t left alone with that bitch. It would’ve been lights-out long before Murphy had that chance.”
He looked Murphy in the face and said sincerely, “No disrespect here, Murph, but a dog is a dog. It’s fucked up what she did to Fart, I agree, but she put a gun to a five-year-old’s head! That was it for me. She’s done.”
Murphy shook the comment off and simply said, “I appreciate the sentiment, Kylee, but all I really want is an eye for an eye. I’m more than happy to handle this one, and it need not involve any of you. I’m the only one not satisfied here. Hook and Alyse don’t have to worry about these pricks roaming around anymore. The truck is back and loaded. Hell, even Lilly’s dinosaur is safe and sound. But my dog is gone. That dog was the last thing I had that was mine. I want retribution.”
That was when it really hit me about Murphy. It wasn’t about just having a burial for the dog. He had to bury the last piece of what remained for him from before all this shit started. Bianca stripped him of the last bit of what made him the ‘Murphy’ we had all come to appreciate.
Hook nodded his understanding and said, “Look, my back is killing me and my legs, too. All that walking today has me hurtin’ real bad. I’ma go medicate and try to lay down for a few. You all do what you gotta do. I ain’t judgin’ nobody here.”
Alyse laid a hand on Cutty’s arm and quietly mouthed the words, “Bible, please?” He nodded to her, and they exited the room without another word.
Murphy told Lilly, “Lilly, I want you to go with Cutty and Alyse.”
She shocked us all and said, “No.”
Murphy recovered from the initial shock of her insubordination and said, “You don’t need to be a part of this. Now, I want you to go with Cutty and Alyse.”
Lilly snapped, “You’re not my daddy! I want to see what you’re going to do to her! I’m not going!”
This was new, and I hope it doesn’t last. She’d never been bratty before. She’d always been slightly precocious and sweet. I think she’d found her confidence as of late, and no doubt she’d started picking up some of JC’s traits.
Matter of fact, JC simply raised his hand and said sternly, “Lilly. Go. With. Cutty. Now!”
Her scornful look at Murphy melted into one of submission, and she told JC, “Fine.”
He shook his head and tut-tutted before saying, “No way, little miss. Try that again. Then, I want you to apologize to Murphy.”
She exhaled, huffing slightly, and said, “Okay, JC. I’ll go.” Then she looked at Murphy and offered, “Sorry, Murph,” before shuffling her feet towards the rear of the cabin.
Once she was out of sight, Kylee said, “Umm… what the fuck just happened there?”
JC smirked and quipped, “I told her to stand up for herself. I probably should’ve done a better job telling her when to stand up for herself. But hey, I handled it.”
That was weird. I mean, JC actually did handle it. He handled it well, in fact. Now if he could just teach himself how to apologize for acting like a dick, we’d be in great shape.
Kylee shrugged it off and cut to the chase. “How we doin’ this? Take ’em out back? Headshots?”
JC nodded. “Good enough for me, but I’d rather do it quietly. There’s still dead around. Dext?”
I just shrugged. I honestly didn’t want to overthink it.
Murphy said flatly, “Not good enough.”
JC was like, “The fuck you mean ‘not good enough’?”
Murphy told him, “Not good enough. A bullet to the head is too Goddamn easy, especially for her. You have any idea how many people suffered because of them? You have any idea how many people died because she took everything they had and left them to rot? A bullet to her head is a gift—a gift that I ain’t fuckin’ givin’ her.”
Kylee snorted and asked him, “What then? What else can we do? We can’t torture her! What would that make us? No better than her!”
That was when Murphy lost his shit. “All I want is an eye for an eye.”
And with that, he stalked over to the trapdoor and threw it open. I could hear those two struggling against their bonds and trying to talk around their gags. He drug Bianca up by her hair and plopped her in a chair at the table with the rest of us. Her eyes were narrow with hatred as she scowled at us.
Murphy went to the duffle bags from earlier today at the pens and pulled out his knife before returning to the table with it. He slid the blade between the gag and her cheek, slicing away the rag without giving a second glance to the gash he left on her face in the process.
Dripping with blood, Bianca seethed, “I heard you talking. Gonna kill me? Fuckin’ do it then. I don’t owe you shit.”
Murphy cocked his head, smiling and satisfied with himself, much like earlier in the woods today. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear, which caused her face to turn chalk white. I shit you not. I watched the color leave her face. “You lie! You fuckin’ lie!” she shouted at him.
Murphy just crossed his arms and silently watched her deteriorate from anger to fear. She began sweating, and her tone changed. She begged Murphy, “Come on, man. Tell me you didn’t mean that. Please?”
Kylee asked him, “Murphy, what’s she talkin’ about?”
Murphy stuck his knife in the table and said, “I told her she was already dead.”
That sly bastard. He had cut her with the same blade he killed the bernie with earlier. He taunted her. “Feel that? Feel that fear in your belly? That… despair? You know you’re going to die now, and there is no escaping it, Bianca. Let that sink in. I want you to think about how it felt to be us, kneeling on the ground back there while your henchman held guns to our heads. Think about how that little girl felt. Yeeeeah… it’s fuckin’ scary, ain’t it? Death is at your door, Bianca. I wonder if you can feel the infection coursing through your blood yet. Can you feel it?”
She was crying by that point, and she begged him, “Shoot me. Just fucking shoot, damn you! I don’t want to be one of them!”
Murphy punched in her jaw hard as fuck and then put his face to hers, nose to nose. He waited a moment for her to recover so he could look her in the eyes, then told her, “You don’t get that choice, Bianca. My dog didn’t get a choice. Instead, she thrashed around with her brains on the pavement while you threatened to kill a kid. So… no… you don’t get that fucking choice.”
Kylee looked visibly shaken and told him, “Murph, that’s enough, man. You made your point. Let’s finish it.”
He turned to Kylee and said coldly, “I’m not even close to finished with this bitch.”
His eyes left us and shot to the hallway leading to the rear of the cabin. We traced his glance and spotted Lilly peeking out of the door to Alyse’s room. JC frustratingly snapped, “Dammit, Murphy!”
Kylee quickly got to her feet along with JC, and they jetted to Lilly in an effort to shuffle her away from the sight. Kylee told us, “Get her outta here. Now!”
Murp
hy frowned miserably and told me, “Let’s go, Sally. Bring your gun.”
He yoked Bianca up by her hair once again and led her to the door as I brought up the rear. He called back to Kylee, “We’ll be back. Don’t touch the other one. He lives—for now.”
Kylee scooped Lilly up into her arms and huffed, “Fine. Just get it over with.”
Murphy grabbed some of our rope on the way out, and after about fifteen minutes of hiking, we were at the nearest rabbit pen. It was still clear from earlier. Bianca continued to sob and beg, asking things like, “Where are you taking me?” and, “Please, don’t let me turn. Just kill me, okay?”
Whenever she talked, Murphy would punch her like she was a grown man. I felt like I should stop him or try to reason with him, but I honestly couldn’t bring myself to care. Just like back at the business park, the vision of Lilly with the gun to her head washed away any and all guilt. It was actually kind of exhilarating. Thousands of times I heard horrific stories on the news about cold-blooded criminals, rapists, and murderers. I always hated the way they could live out their days in prison on my dime. Or even when they were sentenced to death, it was quick and clean. Rules against ‘cruel and unusual punishment’ always made me wonder why we gave a single fuck about these animals. And in some cases when a citizen took the law into their own hands, they ended up in jail over their actions. I’d always thought that was bullshit. We knew Bianca was guilty. I let Murphy lead the way.
Against her constant protests, Murphy tied the rope around her waist tightly and then made a series of twists before pulling her tightly against the very same tree that old Jake Freeman and his wife were strapped to earlier in the day. He trussed her in such a way that no escape would ever be possible without the help of a blade. He looked at her one last time and told her, “If you scream, they will come and tear you to pieces. If you are quiet, the fever will come and take you away. That’s the choice I give you, Bianca.”
She stared at the ground, sobbing, as we turned and left her there. She never screamed, and her sobbing faded slowly as we distanced ourselves. We walked back to the cabin in silence, and as we reached the door, I asked Murphy what we were going to do about the one we have left.
He told me, “We’re going to find out what Kilo is up to and why they’re collecting the dead.”
I asked him what happens after that, and he told me, “Depends on his answer.”
We entered the cabin quietly and replaced the barricade on the door. The others haven’t shown their faces yet, and that’s probably a good thing. Whether or not we did the ‘right’ thing tonight, I’ll sleep soundly.
Tomorrow’s a new day.
About the Author:
Steve Kuhn is a former professional musician turned writer. Raised in Baltimore, Maryland and with a deep seeded passion for horror, he brings a refreshingly raw and witty style to his work. He has been featured in countless online publications as a critical reviewer and has spent the last three years crafting the epic zombie series, Dext of the Dead.
Also Available from
Books of the Dead Press:
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