The Longest Road (Book 2): The Change

by Thompson, A. S.

At the prospect of his daughter and the others being raped, Wally was livid. He struggled so hard to free himself from the cuffs that his wrists bled.

  “If you even think about touching them so help me…”

  “God?” Jimmy said, finishing Wally’s sentence. He held up a hand to stop Tyler from administering physical discipline. Then, Jimmy leaned down and got within an inch of Wally's face. “In case you haven't noticed, there’s no God here. Just me. Death himself.”

  “You monster,” Wally mumbled. His lips trembled and he found it nearly impossible to swallow.

  Then, Jimmy's face morphed from a wide clown smile to a stone cold killer's, happy and playful to deranged and sinister in a split second. He truly was psychotic.

  “Besides, what do you really think you're gonna do? So shut your fuckin’ mouth before I cut out your tongue out and shove it down your throat!”

  “What do you want from us?” Collin asked, trying to divert the hostile attention away from Wally. “Why didn't you kill us already?”

  Jimmy looked over at Collin and, like nothing happened, another grin came over his scarred face. He shuffled his feet and squatted down next to him.

  “Collin, wasn't it? Oh I was so happy you made it. For a second, I thought I was gonna have to kill the idiot who blasted you with a grenade,” he said, looking up and rolling his one good eye. His blind, left eye was intimidating. “I wanted to make sure that you of all people didn't get killed. I like you.”

  Collin ignored whatever weird, possibly homosexual pass Jimmy advanced his way and repeated himself. “What do you want from us?”

  “Do you know what the worst part about this world is?” Jimmy asked rhetorically.

  When no one spoke, Jimmy answered his own question.

  “Entertainment. There’s no good entertainment anymore. But I found a way to get it back,” he said, smiling. “But I don’t wanna spoil all the surprise right now. Ty, why don't you get them cleaned up and fed. We got a long day ahead of us. And I can’t wait for the night.”

  After, Jimmy rose to his feet. He scanned the dismal faces then made his way to the exit.

  “Yo, Ty, you coming?”

  “Give me a minute, jefe,” Tyler said, hitting his bat softly against the palm of his hand. “These pendejos killed our brothers. I just want a little blood before we get 'em cleaned up.”

  “Just make sure they are able to play tonight. I'll give you a couple minutes alone. Then I’ll send in Ruben and Dizzy to help you bring 'em out.”

  As Jimmy exited, Collin, Steve and Wally all expected to receive the beating of a lifetime. They would sit there, tied up and take each and every swing, kick and hit.

  Nick on the other hand, sat there, back up against the bars, defeated. He didn't care about whatever was coming next. For the last year, he had done his best to provide safety and security from the infection, and now, Camp had been taken over by a gang of thugs. Worst of all, he was unable to stop his friends from being killed.

  Travis on the other hand, struggled to liberate himself from the binds, but no one knew why until just after the detention center door closed.

  Immediately, Tyler set his baton down and removed Travis’ gag. The second lieutenant tried to speak, but Tyler placed a hand over his mouth.

  “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this moment. All the things I was gonna say to you. What I was gonna do to you.”

  The others screamed and shouted a mix of obscenities and taunts.

  “Get off him!”

  “You want someone to mess with, I’m right here, asshole!”

  “Ya, take off these cuffs and let’s talk hand to hand!”

  “Shut your fuckin’ mouths!” Tyler yelled, quieting the frenzy. Then, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “This is between me and my big brother.”

  “Brother?” The others mumbled, shocked.

  “Alright, Travis, I'm gonna let go so you better not yell, comprende?”

  Travis’ nostrils flared like a dragon, but he nodded. After the hand was lifted from his mouth, Travis calmly said, “I thought that was you. When you guys first showed up.”

  “Figures you recognized me and didn’t say hi. But you know what? That’s probably a good thing you didn’t say something. Jimmy doesn’t really like surprises. Plus he thinks my brother is dead.”

  “Who says I shouldn’t tell him?”

  “Because if you do, then he’ll straight up end you, bro. Trust me. The things I told him about you...”

  Travis believed his brother. “Tyler, what the hell are you doing withthem?”

  “They are my brothers...mi familia…”

  Despite being bound, Travis' command presence was intimidating. “Those pendejos just killed good people in cold blood, and you call that family?”

  “Psh, whatever. People die,” Tyler answered, completely uncaring for the lives lost. “And Hell ya, they’re my family! Better than what I had growing up. Little brothers are supposed to look up to their big brothers, not watch them leave out the front door and never come back again!”

  Travis shook his head. He remembered leaving Tyler all those years ago. He remembered how much it killed him, but he also remembered why.

  “Idiota,” Travis said, laughing at his brother’s ignorance. “You really have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

  “Oh, I'm talking about you, abandoning your family. At least dad never did that…”

  “Dad! The man you calleddad was a drunk ass piece of shit, who used me for batting practice!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, you think I’m lying? Here, maybe a visual will help. Let me show you what he did to me. What he tried to do to you. Go ahead, check out my back,” Travis said, hands bound, yet still trying to pull up the collar of his shirt. “I still have the coat hanger scars! But I made sure he never laid another finger on our family...”

  Tyler wasn’t sure what the innuendo was all about. Their mother, Maria, told Tyler that his father had died in a home burglary.

  “...You have no idea, Tyler. Everything I did back then was for you. You and mom. How do you think food got on the table? Rent got paid? How you went to private school? You think they just give money to Mexican women in wheelchairs?”

  These were all questions Tyler had never thought about. He could tell there was more to their family’s history than he knew or was led to believe. It was as though a lifetime of therapy just got let loose.

  “I don't mean to cut in on your little Jerry Springer family reunion, but can you get us out of here or what?” Collin asked.

  “Please, Tyler, you gotta help us out. Trust me, bro, I can explain it all later. Just get us out of here!”

  Tyler’s head was spinning. Five minutes ago, he came in ready for the confrontation he had planned for years. He was ready to spew out all his hate, maybe even get violent, but now he wasn’t sure what was real. He heard the pleas but continued staring into his brother's eyes. He was searching for any doubt; any lies that Travis might have conjured up but found none.

  “I-I...”

  Before Tyler could answer, he heard Ruben and Dizzy on the other side of the wall. “Everyone shut up!”

  As quickly as possible, Tyler gagged his brother.

  Seconds later, the Torres twins entered. Both Hispanic men had scraggly, inconsistent beards and were nursing hangovers.

  “Yo, Ty. Jimmy told us to come help you.”

  “Ya, these bitches givin’ you trouble?”

  Tyler delivered a hit to Travis' stomach to sell it. “No, hermanos. Let's get ‘em up.”

  0832 hours

  Travis, Nick, Collin, Steve, Wally and Larry were led outside, shackled together like a chain gang. After stepping through the busted Ranger station doors, they got a first-hand look at the damage. Camp was a complete mess: it looked like a combination of a battlefield and a post-rock concert.

  Trash was discarded freely, bullet casings were littered all over the place and e
mpty bottles of liquor were shattered on the ground. Everything deemed "useless" was broken or trashed without a second thought.

  Pools of blood dried next to the bodies of the fallen. As if simply killing those in cold blood wasn't enough, a few of the bikers who stumbled around drunk continued to desecrate bodies by spitting and urinating on them. There was no respect for the recently departed.

  As the prisoners shuffled around to the picnic tables, they caught their first glimpse of the women. Fortunately, those they hoped were alive, were. Sarah, Jenny, Lisa, and Kelly weren't handcuffed or bound, but were grouped together like a herd of scared cattle. On both sides, bikers gawked at them, commented on their bodies and uttered creepy sexual remarks.

  As much as the men wanted to run toward their female companions, they were cuffed together and surrounded by thugs.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Everything is going to be okay!”

  “They didn’tdo anything to you, did they?”

  Before the thugs guarding the women realized it, Sarah managed to slip past them.

  “Steve!” she called out, running toward him.

  “Sarah!” Steve yelled back, trying to shuffle his feet in her direction. The act was in vain as Steve was immediately stopped by repeated baton strikes to his thighs and jabs to his stomach.

  “Stop hitting him, you bastards!” Sarah screamed. She almost made it to Steve’s side but was intercepted by Tyler.

  Hearing the sounds of a scuffle, Jimmy left his seat at one of the picnic benches and came over. He grabbed Sarah and pulled her in nice and close.

  “You're a feisty one, aren't you mija?” Jimmy said, finding pleasure in her torment.

  “Stop it! You're going to kill him!” Sarah yelled, tears running down her cheeks. She struggled so hard to free herself that she landed a lucky elbow to Jimmy's temple, causing him to release his grip. Sarah fell to the ground, crawled over to Steve, and hugged him tight. She used her body to shield any further violence.

  Jimmy massaged the spot where he was hit, then started laughing. The thugs guarding the men were about to dish out some discipline, but Jimmy waved them off. He continued laughing as he strolled over to Sarah and Steve.

  Steve was bloody and bruised, but he still managed to position himself on one knee in front of Sarah.

  “Move,” Jimmy ordered, but Steve’s stance was unwavering.

  Jimmy didn’t ask twice, instead he delivered a back hand to Steve’s face. Steve took the slap, and looked back with furious determination. He was ready to take another thousand if it meant keeping Sarah safely behind him.

  But Jimmy closed his fist and delivered a solid uppercut to Steve’s chin, dropping him down for good.

  Sarah covered her body over Steve's in an attempt to shield further abuse.

  “Please stop! I'm begging you! No more!”

  “Ah, isn't this precious,” Jimmy said, pulling back to really admire the scene. “She’s standing up for this pendejo. I like you mija, what's your name?”

  Sarah was frightened but infuriated. She was a strong girl who had witnessed her share of tragedy and pain. Her reply was like acid. “Screw you!”

  “Oh, mija, I plan on that later. I promise. But for now, you can either tell me, or I can cut it out of your boyfriend here,” Jimmy said, pulling out a five inch blade.

  Sarah stared into Jimmy's eyes. She believed that he would literally cut it out of Steve, so she gave in. “S-Sarah.”

  Jimmy squatted down next to her. He noticed a lock of hair covering her eye and gently moved it behind her ear. Then, he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her over to him. He dragged his tongue along her neck and up to her earlobe, and then whispered, “Next time you try anything like that, you're gonna watch while I skin your boyfriend alive. You hear me?”

  Sarah's lips trembled. “Y-yes.”

  After taking a deep breath of Sarah’s hair, Jimmy released his grip. He stood up and paced around both the men and the corralled women.

  “I bet you are all wondering why we’re out here, enjoying this beautiful day...”

  The bikers and thugs smiled in anticipation. They knew what was coming next.

  “...I told you earlier; entertainment,” Jimmy said, motioning to the shackled men. “I used to love mixed martial arts. The only problem was that it lacked one thing. Death. Those pendejos can just tap out or call it a match whenever they wanted. Where's the fun in that? You need to be next to death to really feel alive. And that's where you come in. The first part is simple. All you have to do is build a cage…”

  “What happens after that?” Collin interrupted. “We go up against your guys or something?”

  “Or something,” Jimmy replied with that same wicked smirk. “It's gonna be you versus those dead fuckin’ zombie things!”

  The shackled men looked at one another, shocked. The women glanced at their male companions, terrified. A combination of confusion and fear set in.

  Collin spoke up again. “What's the point? We survive, you'll just kill us later.”

  “That's where you're wrong. I promise if you win, you go free,” Jimmy said, lying. But he wanted to give them hope. Even if he was going to rip it away later. “If you lose, well, I think we all know what happens then.”

  “You promise, huh?” Collin started to say, “Just like you promised you wouldn't come back here after I spared your life. Forgive me if I don't drink the Kool-Aid.”

  The rest of the men weren’t sold, either. They all voiced their opinions.

  “Collin’s right! What’s the point?”

  “Get fucked!”

  “Ya, you're just a two-bit punk.”

  “Ya, fuck you!”

  “Stick your ultimate fighting up your ass!”

  This time, Jimmy allowed his guards to take out some pent up aggression. For ten long seconds, they wailed on the prisoners, despite the pleas from the women. When he thought they had enough, Jimmy whistled for the beatings to stop.

  The men cringed in pain. They spat up wads of blood. Everyone had at least one hairline fracture to accompany the murals of bruises that covered their bodies.

  “That's better,” Jimmy said, enjoying the peace. “Look, you have your choice. You can die now or fight.”

  The men looked to Collin for their collective decision. There was no way out. If they opted for death, they would surely receive it, and the women would be left defenseless for the bikers to do terrible, unforgivable acts. If they fought, at least they would be spared for the time being, maybe even come up with a plan.

  On his knees, Collin spat up a mouthful of blood. Then, he tried a shot in the dark: a deal.

  “You said it yourself, you want entertainment. And we will give it to you. But there’s one condition. You don't touch the girls and after we win, they come with us.”

  Jimmy smiled. There was something about Collin that he liked. Maybe it was Collin’s nerve, maybe his sense of defiance. The other towns gave right in, but not this group. They were weathered and battle scarred but still kept on fighting. Jimmy took a second and considered it, dragging a hand over his short stubble.

  “Okay.”

  “Jefe!” The guards protested. “You promised us women and-”

  Jimmy held up a finger, and that was all it took to quell the dissent. Jimmy positioned himself in front of Collin and stared him down. He spoke to Collin but his message was for everyone.

  “If you try to lag, your women will be raped. If you try to run, they'll be raped. If any of you are stupid enough to fight back, they'll be raped. If you aren’t finished by the designated time, you'll watch them get pounded raw, again and again. And when you can't take it anymore and wanna die...we’ll slice their beautiful throats right in front of you. Do all of you understand me?”

  The men nodded. They were too terrified to speak. Each man cycled through mental images of the horrific promises if they did not comply.

  “Good boys,” Jimmy said, talking to them as if they were dogs. �
��The games begin at nightfall.”

  Presidential Bunker- location classified

  November 28, 2009

  1000 hours

  Across the United States, in locations undisclosed to the public, secure bunkers had been constructed to serve as a fail-safe. Top level government officials and VIP’s would be taken to these sites in the event of an emergency. The most secure of these facilities was located deep inside the Rocky Mountain range where the states of Washington, Oregon, and Idaho converged.

  Situated nearly one thousand feet below the surface, one particular facility, code-named Eagle’s Landing, was designed to mimic a small town. Using a combination of taxpayer funding and private investments, this facility housed the most advanced electronics and communications equipment, levels of hydroponic and self-sustaining vegetative gardens, and enough rooms for a thousand people to ride out any emergency; up to and including a nuclear attack.

  Despite the modern comforts inside Eagle’s Landing, not all time was spent in relaxation. President Joshua Tufase was determined to eradicate the Trinity Virus and save his country, his people and his legacy. The most significant step toward this goal was acquiring the help of LIFE International- the corporation’s name was an acronym meaning Longevity Intrinsic For Everyone.

  LIFE was the world's largest, wealthiest and most successful company. Their helpful hands were involved in everything from cancer research to producing healthy, new-aged baby food. LIFE’s commissioned scientists were at the heads of their respective fields, and they constantly paved pathways to new paradigms.

  The road had been long and hard, but under careful supervision, a vaccine for the Trinity Virus was near. It was reported that the vaccine, codenamed Ambrosia, was in the final stages of creation, while rumors and whispers indicated it would be ready for distribution in three days.

  Inside a dimly lit broadcast room, President Tufase stood behind a simple wooden podium. His face was clean shaved and hair parted in a half wave, similar to his idol John F. Kennedy. Dressed in a simple black suit and red, white and blue tie, with a U.S. flag pinned to his chest, Joshua Tufase mumbled handwritten notes on a set of paper cue cards.