The Longest Road (Book 2): The Change

by Thompson, A. S.

  “What else did she tell you?” Travis tried to interrupt, but Tyler's rant continued full steam ahead.

  “I was so pissed, bro. I fuckin’ hated you for that, straight up bailing on your familia when we needed you the most. But it's all good, I get it now. When I turned eighteen, I joined up too, just like you, bro. Hell, I even tried to find you. I can't even tell you how bad I wanted to straight up confront you. But all I found out was you were on some special project shit, they wouldn't even tell me where. So, I just said screw it and moved on like you did. I did my four years, and when I got out, I found something better. I got recruited by Los Tres Demonios. They gave me money and a job. They gave me a family.”

  Travis clenched his jaw; he was livid. He obviously knew something his brother didn't.

  “Shut up for one fucking second. You think that's what happened? You think I just straight up left? You got your shit all upside down hermano…”

  Tyler puffed his chest outward, ego inflated. He walked straight up to the bars and said, “Set it straight then,hermano.”

  Travis took a second to calm himself down. “That night, Tyler. The night you thought I left you, what do you remember exactly?”

  Tyler searched for the memory, but it wasn't hard to find.

  “I was in my room. There was a bunch of yelling and screaming. Sounded like some stuff got broken. But I don’t really remember exactly what happened. Just that mom told me we got robbed and you bailed after.”

  “I figured you were probably too young to understand. But I didn't straight up walk out on you! I loved you, bro!”

  “Then what happened?” Tyler interrupted.

  Travis backed to the cold, stone wall, and then slid down to a seated position. The memory was a nightmare. A real one. One he lived with every day.

  “Dad must have drank the whole bar. When he came back, he started throwing shit and yelling at everything that caught his attention, then mom when she came in to clean up, then me when I stood up for her. He hated it when I stood up for her. Next thing I know, he’s coming back into the kitchen with his favorite coat hanger...”

  Tyler watched the memory pour out from his brother in the form of a lone tear trickling down his cheek.

  “...He tried to go to town on me like he always used to. But I wasn't gonna let him get away with that shit anymore. So, I grabbed the baseball bat from my bag and when he got close, I...I swung. And he just dropped.”

  Then something prompted Travis to get up. Something ushered him to move toward the bars to get up close and personal with his brother.

  “Mom didn’t know what to do. Hell, I didn't even realize that I just killed him. Next thing I know, she's screaming and hittingme! She hated me for what I did. I don’t know why, but she did. I guess she still clung on and loved the guy even though he smacked her around every night. But me, shit, I thought we were finally free, but no. Mama told me to get whatever I could carry and leave. So I did. Never wanted to leave you, bro, believe me. But she said that if I stayed, she’d turn me in...”

  Tyler searched for even the slightest hint of a lie. But there was none to be found.

  “...Mama ever tell you about the letters I wrote? The money I sent you guys so you didn't have to grow up in the hood? Naw, I didn't think so,” Travis said softly, then his tone elevated. “Everything I did was for you! And for what? For you to get in some gang? To kill innocent people?”

  Tyler had not expected this. For years he thought his older brother had abandoned him. Now, his world was on full tilt. It was his dad who was the deadbeat. It was Travis who supported him and his mother.

  He flashed back to random memories. Ones when his mom would see a letter, then become furious and tear it up. He remembered an Army logo, but never knew who it was from or why. Now it all made sense.

  “Please, Ty, you gotta get us out of here,” Travis implored.

  The others came over and offered their own pleas.

  “Help us, please!”

  “We are all beat to hell after making that cage.”

  “How are we supposed to fight infected?”

  “Are the girls safe? We have to get them out of here!”

  One question stuck out the most. It was Collin's.

  “He isn't going to let us go, is he?”

  As he answered Collin's question, Tyler stared into his brother's eyes.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “If you survive the first round, he'll make you keep fighting. It's what he's always done. He lied to you. You're gonna die here. By one of thosethings or a bullet. Either way, you won't live through the night.”

  “What about Lisa?” Wally asked. “What about the other girls? What's going to happen to them?”

  The others knew the answer to that question. They didn't need Tyler's morbid reaction to know that the girls would be raped and when they were all used up, killed.

  Visibly, Steve was the most enraged. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his brow furrowed, his nostrils flared, his teeth ground together.

  “I'm gonna kill him!” he said, kicking the steel barrier.

  The others joined in with threats and curses of their own, so Tyler held up both of his hands to quiet them.

  “Shh. I am gonna help you but you gotta be quiet. Give me a chance to think.” Tyler looked at the keys, thinking for a split second about simply unlocking the gate and allowing the prisoners to run out. But that would be foolish and he knew it. He had a gun but the others didn't. They would make it a few steps before the alarm got sounded. He could pull over a car, have them jump inside and try to make a get away, but the girls wouldn't make it.

  Before Tyler had any more time to think, he heard sounds coming from outside the lockup. With the seconds that remained he said, “I have to go. I will come back when the others are drunk. Stay alive. I'll get you out of here.”

  Travis extended his hand through the bars, and Tyler grabbed on to it. The two bothers put their heads together and whispered something in Spanish. Just as the door opened, Tyler broke off and wiped away a set of tears.

  ***

  Jimmy barely missed the moment, but saw Tyler spin around and grab his eyes. “Yo, Ty, what are you doing in here? What happened?”

  “Yo, Jimmy, I'm good. I was just talkin’ some shit to try and motivate these pendejos,” Tyler said, lying. He pointed at Travis and continued, “Then this puta here spit on me. I was just about to open the gate and crack some skulls, but I know we need 'em alive.”

  Jimmy stared at Tyler, as though he didn't believe him. Then his lips curled and he said, “Good thinking. We need our fighters in top shape.”

  “Top shape?” Larry whimpered. “Why? What's the point? You're just going to kill us after!”

  Collin, Nick, Steve, Travis and Wally all turned and glared at Larry. Even Tyler's eyes widened and he swallowed into a dry throat. Tyler revealed, in confidence, Jimmy’s true intentions, and now Larry just blurted it out.

  Fortunately, Jimmy didn't think of the statement like that.

  “On the contrary,” he said, grabbing a handheld radio from Carlos. “I have something you should hear. It’s so you don't think I'm lying about letting you go.”

  He turned on the radio and increased the volume to its maximum output.

  At first, the imprisoned men had no idea what they were listening to. But, as the presidential message continued to play and loop back around, they understood. The President was promising a vaccine.

  Jimmy allowed the message to loop twice so the information would soak in. That, and he enjoyed seeing the hopeful faces. The hope he was going to crush eventually.

  During the second loop, Steve leaned over to Collin and whispered, “Do you think Diane did it? Do you think she found a vaccine?”

  “I don't know. Sounds like she might have,” Collin replied. His mind attempted to process the new information.

  “Why are you showing us this?” Nick asked. “What's the catch?”

  Jimmy clicked the radio
off, then handed it back to Carlos; all the while staring down the Native American Ranger. “No catch. Like I said before. You win, you go free. I just wanted you to have something to look forward to.”

  “Still, what's the point? The closest rendezvous is about six hundred miles away. What are we supposed to do, walk?” Collin asked. He didn't see the point in winning just to get eaten on the way to the vaccine.

  “I knew I liked you. You're a smart one aren’t you?” Jimmy replied, tapping the side of his head. “I bet you’re a good chess player, too? You don't just think about the now, you plan for the steps ahead. I respect that. Well, since I'm feeling particularly gracious this evening, I'll tell you what. I'll even let the winners take a car.”

  Without anyone noticing, Travis cast a look at Tyler asking his brother “Is Jimmy serious?”

  Unsure, Tyler signaled back a raised eyebrow.

  “So here's how it's going to go. You fight. If you win, you come back here and wait until the end. If you lose, well, you die. At the end, the winners go free,” Jimmy declared. “Ty, open the gate.”

  Then, Jimmy stepped inside the cage and walked among the prisoners. Some he stared down in an effort to intimidate, others he glanced at then moved on. When he arrived in front of Larry, Jimmy was amused that the CFO was whimpering and urinating uncontrollably through his pants. He leaned down next to Larry and took a large whiff of him. He could almost taste the aura of misery.

  “Mmmm fear. Nothing is as sweet as this,” Jimmy said, standing back upright.

  During the entire exchange, Larry said nothing. His extremities shook uncontrollably, and his eyes stared at the floor.

  Jimmy turned and walked back to the entrance. On his way, he pointed to one person after the next. “Eeny, meeny, miny,” he started to say, then, at last second, changed his mind from Collin to Travis. “Moe.”

  “Fuck you,” Travis spat. The saliva landed on his scarred eye.

  Jimmy smiled, and then he delivered a quick, surprising jab to Travis' midsection.

  It took everything for Tyler not to react.

  While Travis grabbed his stomach and gasped for air, Jimmy grabbed a handful of Travis' hair.

  “You're up first pendejo,” he said, pulling Travis out of the cell by his hair.

  ***

  After acquiring a set of objects from inside the RV, West's mental checklist was nearly complete. Only one item remained. So, he snuck out of the fenced campsite, located a discarded bicycle and pedaled as fast as he could.

  There was so much to fear, so many variables and so much to doubt. But as Craig West sped through the brush with nothing more than the whiteness of a waning gibbous moon and a small LED flashlight as his guide, his mind remained focused, determined.

  The hardheaded Sergeant Major had performed counterinsurgencies and initiated guerrilla wars with far less. And team by his side or not, West had never failed a mission. He was trained never to fail.

  A mile into his trek, a distant memory reentered his psyche. The particular event took place more than two decades prior, but the lesson remained fresh in his mind as though it was just instilled.

  West was seventeen years old when he enlisted. Not even a man when he spoke the sacred words of the Soldier’s Creed.

  I will always place the mission first.

  I will never accept defeat.

  I will never quit.

  I will never leave a fallen comrade...

  But it wasn't the prospect of failure that was bothering him. It was something that he could not quite put his finger on. Something was different this time. The dynamic of warfare as he knew it, changed. Then, as though Heaven opened and God himself delivered the message, it hit him.

  This time, it was personal.

  Chapter 9

  Providence State Beach

  November 28, 2009

  1903 hours

  The circular fighting cage, measuring thirty feet in diameter, was erected on a flat section of beachfront nearest to Camp’s southern fence line. Eight foot high chain-link fencing and scraps of sheet metal enclosed the sandpit. Barbed wire was fashioned to the top as to deter any climbing or fleeing. On the ocean facing side, the entrance to the cage of death was latched open by a bungee cord.

  A line of torches created a walkway to the cage, while others were scattered about the various seating arrangements. But very few were seated. Almost everyone surrounded the cage like hyenas to an injured animal, like Roman spectators at the Colosseum. They wanted action. They were there for blood. The bikers cheered and booed as Travis was dragged to the pit.

  On top of the picnic table closest to the cage, were two chairs: one for Jimmy, the other for Estrella. Sarah was forced to sit on the bench below and deal with Estrella's passive-aggressive seduction techniques.

  Lisa, Kelly and little Jenny were made to act as waitresses. Carrying metal trays, the girls walked among the criminals offering them bowls of soup and glasses of alcoholic drinks. Lisa and Kelly received slaps on their butts and frisky hands to their breasts as they passed from person to person. Fortunately, Jenny's age created a do-not-touch barrier around her. The men were killers and violent abusers, some rapists, but not one was a pedophile.

  After Travis was tossed into the sandy pit like a wild animal, Jimmy arose from his chair. The men were rowdy, but an ear-piercing whistle silenced the group.

  To Jimmy's left, Estrella sat like a pompous queen. To his right, Tyler stood like the respectful, trustworthy captain he was.

  “Hermanos!” Jimmy shouted, raising his glass of tequila and lime juice. “It's been a long time, but tonight we celebrate! Like I promised since the beginning, I give you food, drinks, drugs, women; whatever you want I provide. All I ask is that you fight for me...fight for Los Tres Demonios. And fight you have! So tonight, get wild, have fun and enjoy the entertainment! Let the games begin!”

  A wave of applause, cheers and whistling erupted around the makeshift arena.

  “Vamos!” Jimmy yelled to his sergeant.

  Dizzy Torres nodded, and then walked over to a cage near the fighting pit. Corralled inside were a half dozen infected men and women. Using an animal controller's catchpole, Dizzy captured the first non-human combatant. It took three tries, but Dizzy finally tightened the leash around the man's throat and yanked him out.

  The man- six feet tall and two hundred and fifty pounds of pure rage covered behind a Tommy Bahama shirt- was guided uncooperatively into the pit.

  Across the way, Travis stood, his face indicating neither fear nor panic. Just anger. His nostrils flared with steady respiration. His right foot was firmly planted forward and his left back, in a balanced, southpaw fighting stance. He was as ready as he would ever be.

  Suddenly, Travis flinched as an unknown object flew just over his head and landed two feet in front of him.

  “What the hell?” he said under his breath.

  While his opponent was still restrained, Travis picked up the six-inch knife. He turned back to the crowd behind him, searching for the source of the assistance.

  He should have guessed.

  ***

  Tyler looked up at his boss and justified his action by saying, “We don't want the first fight to end too soon, jefe.”

  Jimmy looked down at Tyler, face emotionless.

  A long moment passed, and Tyler started to think that maybe Jimmy was catching on. But, Tyler waited, and displayed no signs of the nervousness that quaked inside him.

  Then, Jimmy's face creased with the same wicked smile, and he replied, “That's why you are my right hand man. Always thinking ahead.”

  “Exactly,” Tyler answered, swallowing a dry throat. He turned back to watch his brother.

  Estrella disagreed, but kept her opinions and hatred of Tyler to herself. She grabbed Jimmy’s groin and whispered, “It’s not like it’s really gonna matter, is it, baby?”

  “Naw,” Jimmy replied, enjoying the arousal. “These putas won’t make it through the night. Come morning they’ll
be dead one way or another.”

  “That’s my man,” Estrella purred.

  Tyler faked a smile to match Jimmy’s. “What do you mean, jefe? I thought you were gonna cut los ganadores loose, no?”

  “Hah. You still know how to make me laugh, Ty. Come on hermano, when have we ever?”

  “Ya, you’re right,” Tyler agreed with the best fake smile and chuckle he could muster. “Let’s hope we can get some good fights out of these pendejos.”

  ***

  From inside the pit, Travis telepathed a "thank you" to his brother, then turned back and faced his opponent.

  Dizzy finished removing the leash, then slammed the gate and latched it shut. At first, the monster pounded its fists against the fence, then sensing fresh prey, it turned around and stared at Travis. The man's darkened eyes and foamy snarling should have added to the intimidation, but Travis paid no mind to it. A second later, Tommy Bahama released a gargled howl and charged.

  The monster closed the thirty-foot gap in no time, but Travis already had his actions, rather reactions, planned.

  Arms extended and teeth showing, Tommy Bahama was four feet out and all momentum thrown forward. At the last second, Travis side stepped to his right, and ducked under the man's reach. Next, he switched the knife to his left hand and aimed his strike at the base of the man's skull in an attempt to sever the spine. Unfortunately, his aim was a hair off and the blade sliced superficially over the top vertebra. Travis retracted his hand but not quickly enough. Tommy Bahama turned wildly and his arm knocked the blade from his grip.

  At first the bikers gasped and "booed,” thinking Travis slew the beast, but after seeing the knife fall to the sand, they cheered louder than ever.

  “Shit,” Travis cursed. “Improvise.”

  But Travis didn't have much time as the enraged man charged again. This time, Travis found himself inside the man's reach.

  Tommy Bahama’s momentum continued forward, causing Travis to backpedal over lumps of sand.