After her son had fallen quietly into a slumber, Serena remained the only conscious one left. She had many things on her mind. Raymond, Ian, and Hernando had several interesting things to share with her over the course of that day and she considered it all carefully. When everything was all said and done, Los Angeles was their best hope. Even Mary reluctantly conceded that these men posed no threat to them; Serena very much agreed, even though she did spy Ian eyeing her on more than a couple of occasions. Despite being nearly fifteen years his elder, Serena looked no older than Ian or anyone else in their group other than her son. She harbored no feelings of attraction for the younger man, but it was still charming to be desired by a decent guy again. Her main concern now was the mysterious cultists that the ardently bellicose Mary seemed in no hurry to tangle with. Was it worth the risks? The more appropriate question Serena asked herself was: do we have any other choice? No other choices came to mind.
Ian awoke groggily as the morning light spilled into the loft. As things came into focus he found himself looking into the bicolored eyes of Mary Murder. She was holding her vicious hatchet, Amy, upside down in her left hand. Thoroughly started, Ian attempted to pull away but only managed to awaken Hernando, whom he was still bound to, in the process.
“Pussy,” Mary giggled as she unbound Ian’s hands with a swift swipe from her hatchet. She then walked around to Hernando and hacked the Ethernet cable from his hands as well. “Breakfast is ready, douchebags. Come down if you want it.” Mary declared as she leapt down the ladder leading out of the loft. Ian and Hernando were alone; Raymond, Serena, and Anthony had already gone down. The broken cable that had once bound Raymond’s hands and the rope that had bound him to the pillar were both lying near his sleeping spot. Although their hands were now free, a small, yet strong, climbing rope still kept Ian and Hernando bound together. It took a bit of struggle and frustration, but the two men ultimately succeeded in removing the rope. They then joined the others in the kitchen.
Raymond, Serena, and Anthony all sat at the kitchen table with an assortment of canned goods laid out before them. One more chair remained, but Mary left it and opted to take a seat on the kitchen countertop instead. Hernando claimed the empty chair and then chose his breakfast from the canned goods as soon as Serena gave him her approval. Ian did the same while continuing to stand.
“So, what’s up everyone?” Ian spoke as he ate from a can of cream of mushroom. He could sense a lightened mood among the others and, consequently, correctly conjectured that some sort of blueprint had been concocted, without his presence, regarding all of their near futures in Lake Tahoe.
“You and I will be continuing on in our journey,” Raymond delightedly answered. Ian was expecting this, but the plan still disappointed him. He could refuse to go along and neither Raymond nor Hernando would think any less of him for it, but he wouldn’t do that. People were counting on him and he would not let them down by choice. He did his best to put on a smile and hide his apprehensions; all but Mary were fooled by it. “The others will proceed on to Los Angeles.” Raymond added.
“Really?” Ian spoke in an overly jovial tone as he attempted to hide his own misgivings. “Even you, Miss Murder?”
“Even me.” Mary answered in a stoic manner. For the first time, Ian actually felt an odd connection to the wild woman; neither of them were happy about the plans being set in motion by their friends.
Hernando did not know what to feel. He was glad to be going back home, but he was also disheartened and slightly angry about not being able to go on with his friends. If he was given the choice he would accompany his two compatriots without hesitation. He was not given that option, however, and there was little he could do about it. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to do anything about it. “You can’t go on foot,” Hernando spoke. “You’ll never make it.”
“We will not be going on foot.” Raymond replied. “Miss Mary knows of a vehicle that Ian and I may use. She’s going to take me to it here shortly. Miss Serena has graciously offered to give us some of her supplies to take with us on our journey. While I am away, you and Ian will stay with her and decide what few things we should bring with us.”
Mary shook her head despondently. She did not care who noticed.
“That’s incredibly kind of you, ma’am.” Ian spoke to Serena. She did look lovely sitting there in her modest sleepwear as the morning light shone upon her through the kitchen window.
“It’s nothing.” Serena smiled.
“It’s everything.” Ian cordially corrected her.
“All right, enough with all this verbal tribadism,” Mary spoke as she hopped down from the countertop. “Let’s go get you my vehicle, Mr. Raymond, so we can all leave this safe, beautiful place and go and get ourselves massacred!”
“Way to look on the bright side, Mary.” Serena spoke as she tossed Mary her car keys.
“Hey now,” Mary caught the keys around her pinky finger. “Bright side is my only side, baby… everyone knows that!”
“Should I go, too?” Anthony inquired as Raymond stood from the seat next to him.
“Not today, little brother,” Mary answered. “No guarantees I still won’t kill this prick.” Raymond sneered; he was not intimidated. “And I don’t want you coming to his rescue, again.” Mary sneered back.
Anthony made no reply. Mary’s tone was more playful than it was perilous; she had no intentions of killing Raymond. She did, however, have intentions of another kind, and Anthony was not too young to understand what they were. Raymond followed Mary outside; Serena and Ian followed behind him. Anthony had his mother’s handgun in his pocket and Mary’s rifle sitting on his lap, so Serena felt safe enough to leave her son momentarily alone with the injured Hernando.
“Sorry, kid.” Hernando spoke after everyone had left. “Ray can be a dick sometimes.”
At first Anthony only produced a strained smile in response, but he then added, “I’m sorry, too, that you can’t go with your friends.”
“Yeah?” Hernando gave a half-hearted laugh. “I’m not so sure I am. Getting this far was bad enough. Even with you guys’ help, I don’t see a happy ending in this for my friends.”
“I don’t see a happy ending in this for any of us.” Anthony stated. Except for Raymond.
“Heh, maybe not,” Hernando could understand the kid’s sentiments. “But maybe there is, for some of us anyway. We’ve got some things going for us in Los Angeles… you might be surprised.”
“I guess we’ll see,” Anthony doubted the surprise would be a pleasant one. “So long as the Umbra Diaboli don’t get us first.”
Hernando had no comment to that.
Mary drove Serena’s car into the suburban areas around South Lake Tahoe. It had been a while since she had last visited this part of Tahoe and the trees, the bushes, and other shrubs had grown fairly wild in most places. Mary still found what she was looking for. She pulled the car into the driveway of an unassuming, medium-sized, two-story house with a decent sized garage nestled amongst some imperious pine trees. She then switched off the vehicle.
“Nice place,” Raymond remarked. “I’ve always admired the delicate calmness of suburban America.”
“It’s a shit heap,” stated Mary. “But that’s why I picked it.”
“So this is where my vehicle awaits me? Did you find it here?” Raymond suspected that she did not. This was Mary’s hideaway.
“Nope,” Mary confirmed. “Found it across the border at one of the casinos… and it’s my vehicle. I’m only letting you borrow it ‘cause I’m so goddamn nice.”
“Brought it here for safe keeping?”
“Let’s just say the car has a certain appeal to it. The Sayona like to fuck up vehicles, and it would’ve been a tragedy in this case.”
“How so?”
“Have you ever seen the movie Christine?” Mary was fond of the film.
“No, but I’ve read the book.” Raymond was equally as fond of the book.
“Damn, you dorks
read too much,” Mary criticized. “Just see the movie, it’s a lot quicker.”
“But not always better.” Raymond countered. “Something good is worth taking your time with. It’s been a while; please refresh me, what was that car? A ‘57 Ford Thunderbird?”
“A ‘58 Plymouth Fury, dipshit, and she was badass!”
“Is that what you have waiting for me in your hidden garage?”
“Hey, if you’re gonna get yourself brutally killed you might as well do it in style.”
Raymond laughed a deep laugh as he exited the vehicle. Mary left the car as well. She had both the revolver and Amy in her possession, but she highly doubted she would need either on this occasion. Mary was wearing the same pants she had worn the previous day, but she’d swapped out her battered up top with a sleek, short-sleeved, solid black shirt. The shirt had belonged to a former resident of the house in Emerald Bay. The former owner of the shirt was a young girl, yet her clothes still fit Mary’s small frame perfectly. The garage door was rusted, rotted, and quarrelsome, but Raymond lifted it with ease. The 1958 Fury was waiting just as Mary had claimed.
“I call her Dahlia.” Mary spoke as she stood next to Raymond. Unlike the red and white Christine, Dahlia was solid black.
“She is a beauty.” Raymond replied as he walked closer to examine the hauntingly wonderful car. “How much fuel?”
“Half a tank last I checked,” Mary walked past the car and over to a nearby workbench. “I’m sure you and your boys can manage to rig something up to get at the gas in one of these stations. I could too, but… well, better I leave that to you guys.” That destructive memory brought a private smile to Mary.
“Yes, this car will do perfectly,” Raymond praised as he examined Dahlia’s interior. “Thank you, Mary.”
“You’re welcome,” Mary answered quietly. She walked over to a motley spider web hanging close by and spoke, “This is new.”
“What’s new?” Raymond asked looking up from the car.
“Spider web.” Mary spotted the web’s creator slowly sauntering along the workbench; it was a western black widow spider.
“Ugh, I hate spiders.” Raymond admitted as he cautiously approached Mary.
“Hah, pussy,” Mary put her hand upon the bench and let the large black widow crawl onto her. “I love them!”
“You love them? Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mary lifted her hand to eye level so she could better see the spider. “I guess I just have a soft spot for my fellow ugly creatures.”
“Mary, if that thing bites you, it could be very bad.” Raymond watched Mary let the black widow crawl from her right arm onto her left hand.
“Relax, big guy, she’s not gonna bite me.” Mary moved her right hand to expose her wrist to Raymond. Upon Mary’s wrist was a tattoo of a black widow spider using its silk web to sew up a superficial slash wound drawn down half the length of Mary’s forearm.
“That’s very disturbing.” Raymond commented, referring to both Mary’s tattoo and the venomous spider she was allowing to crawl all over her.
“What can I say?” Mary put her hand back down upon the bench and let the spider crawl off of her and continue on with its journey. “I’m a disturbed kinda girl.”
“Yes, but you’re not ugly.” Raymond approached boldly, now that the spider was gone.
“Well, aren’t you a charmer.” Mary turned to face him. “It’s all good, honey; I like my ugliness – it gives me character!”
“Like I said, you’re not ugly, Mary.” Raymond towered above Mary, nearly two feet taller than she was, yet the girl possessed no traces of intimidation. The prurient shimmer gleaming in her eyes was far more overwhelming than any man’s size.
“We’ll see about that.” Mary pulled Amy and the revolver from their places upon her person and tossed them onto the bench behind her.
Raymond wrapped one arm around Mary and hoisted her up onto his torso. With his free hand he took her by the hair and brought her face to his. She showed her teeth, yet her kisses were soft; she dug her nails into his flesh, yet Raymond had never felt a caress so tender. Mary was a beautiful contradiction in every way. How could a woman so small and puerile be so fearless and powerful? How could this girl, who could give more pleasure than any man or woman would ever deserve, be so depraved and so capable of inflicting such acts of violence? These questions faded fast from Raymond’s mind as he took Mary over and over, and as she took him again and again.
“You think they’re okay?” Ian asked as he packed up the supplies Serena had given him. “They’ve been gone awhile.” Serena and Hernando were both in the living room with Ian; Anthony was on the back porch with only his troubled thoughts as company. Ian was the only one who was clueless to Mary and Raymond’s secondary objective.
“They’re fine.” Hernando stated crassly.
“Don’t worry, Mary can handle anything.” Serena added. Even though she did not mean anything lewd by that remark, the libidinous innuendo did cross her mind soon after saying it. Mary, you’re a bad influence on me.
From his post on the back porch, Anthony spotted the two vehicles returning home: his mother’s brown subcompact and another car – a black one that looked very old-fashioned. Anthony made no move to go and meet them as they returned. He preferred his quiet place of solitude with the grand view. To him, Emerald Bay was cold and harsh yet still pleasing to the eye in its own special way. It’s just like you, Mary. Fear of this place no longer plagued Anthony. Mary’s teachings, training, and mere presence instilled him with a sense of courage that he desperately did not want to lose. But how could he keep it without her?
At the sound of the approaching vehicles, Serena, Ian, and Hernando came outside to meet Mary and Raymond. The new car, the black Fury driven by Raymond, was much louder than Serena’s subcompact. This would have to be corrected before the journey to Colorado; too much noise could attract unwanted attention. Raymond had no worries, however; Ian was just as good with vehicles as he was with radios and computers. Raymond tasked him with the job right away. Mary parked Serena’s car into the garage and then joined the others.
“This thing is beautiful.” Ian commented as he examined the contours of the Fury. “Where’d you find it?”
“Mary has an eye for good things.” Raymond did little to hide the multiple entendre he had going in that remark.
“Mary has a sentimental eye for old horror films…” revised Mary. “Nothing more, so much less.”
“Yeah, nice ride,” Hernando spoke, sardonically. “A little flashy, no? Perhaps something a bit more… practical, would’ve been better?”
“It’s our only option.” Raymond stated. “It will take us where we need to go. Besides, if we’re going to get ourselves brutally killed we might as well do it in style.”
“Should be a blast.” Ian spoke feebly as he went through the supplies in the Fury’s trunk. After finding the car and consummating the discovery, multiple times, Mary and Raymond raided an auto-repair garage to acquire the gear needed to alter the vehicle to more proper specifications. They raided a gun shop, too, and acquired a few handguns for the trip to Colorado; though Mary doubted they would be much help. From Carson City to Denver was a no-man’s-land prowled by the rarely subtle Sayona. Most of the human obstacles should have been eradicated by now.
“Would you like to help us with the vehicle, Mary?” Raymond implored as he joined Ian at the trunk. “She is yours, after all.” His time alone with Mary was fun, and not just because of the hauntingly incredible sex in Dahlia’s garage. Mary was amusing, quick-witted, and immensely entertaining. It would be nice to spend more time with her before he had to go.
“Nope, do what you want with her.” Mary absentmindedly answered as she glanced around her immediate surroundings. She then looked to Serena and asked, “Where’s our boy?”
“He’s on the deck.” Serena replied. She could not help but grin. Mary was ever impressive in her eclectically eccentric ways.
&
nbsp; “Cool, thanks.” Mary left the others and proceeded around the house on her quest to find Anthony.
Anthony leaned forward in his chair as he gazed into the shimmering waters of Emerald Bay. He wanted to go and be with the others (and be with Mary), being that friendly people were difficult to find in these dark, dreary days, but he was also upset and not in a particularly sociable mood. Little did he know that Mary was already with him. Lightweight and lighter-footed, Mary had made her way directly behind the boy completely undetected. She reached her arm around Anthony and gently clasped him around his mouth.
“Guess who?” Mary whispered into his ear.
Anthony was briefly startled, but the tattooed hands and arms and uniquely discernable voice immediately gave away the perpetrator. He muffled Mary’s name, but his words were difficult to comprehend being that she had his mouth covered. Nevertheless, she released him.
“I think you’re suppose to cover my eyes when you do that.” Anthony stated.
“Yeah well, I’m the kinda bitch who likes to throw a few wrenches into the works.” Mary took the chair sitting next to Anthony. He had returned his mother’s handgun, but kept Mary’s rifle. It was sitting in Mary’s chair; now it was sitting in Mary’s hands.
“Distorting the status quo?” Anthony presumed.
“Sodomizing the status quo.” Mary professed.
Anthony wasn’t sure what that meant and he was okay with keeping it that way. “Nice car.” He referred to Dahlia in order to alter the topic of conversation. He was only being courteous however; the car looked a little weird to him.
“Not bad for an eighty-year old.” Mary replied as she fervidly stared down Anthony, testing and tasting him for signs of how angry he was with her.
In the Aftermath: Burning of the Dawn Page 45