Hamsikker 2

by Russ Watts

  “Are you cold?” Rose asked. She could see Peter admiring her breasts through her bra, and knowing how desperately he wanted to touch her made her want to laugh. He wanted her so much, yet he was so afraid. It occurred to her then that he might be a virgin.

  “We don’t have to do this,” said Peter timidly. “We shouldn’t do this. You’re married, and…”

  “And I saw how you looked at me in the shower yesterday,” said Rose as she approached Peter. “I want it too. I need it Peter. I was Gabe’s sweetheart at school, and I’ve never been with anyone else. I need a man. I need you.” Rose stifled a giggle as Peter’s mouth fell open. With reactions like that, he had to be a virgin. Any other man would have long since given up resisting her, and dropped his pants in seconds.

  “Mara, I think you’re beautiful, but I…I’m…”

  Rose pressed her finger to his lips. “Shush,” she whispered. “Just relax. We’re completely alone. We can do anything we want.”

  Rose kneeled down before Peter, and unbuckled his belt. She waited a moment, wondering if he would grab her head and thrust himself into her like most men. Instead, he placed his hands on her shoulders, and she thought she heard him whisper something about wanting to make love to her.

  “Sit down,” she instructed Peter forcefully, and she pushed him back into a swivel chair. “Now close your eyes.”

  Peter closed his eyes instantly. Rose shook her head at how easy it was. She reached into her pocket and pulled out some industrial cable ties that she had found earlier, maneuvered herself around the back of the chair discreetly, and then tied Peter’s hand together, binding his wrists tightly.

  “Hey, I’m not sure about this. Do you…”

  “Be quiet,” Rose whispered in his ear, “or I won’t let you fuck me.”

  Rose made sure Peter couldn’t escape his ties, and then unlocked the front door, letting the moon light up the room. Warm rain dripped inside from the roof, and Rose had to admit that she was turning herself on. If only Javier were sat in that chair instead of Peter. He was such a typical, obnoxious American college boy. Rose imagined that Peter was the sort of person who probably helped his Mom bake apple pie before offering to cut the grass and prepare for his exams by taking on extra homework. Undoubtedly, the closest he’d ever gotten to a woman was taking the girl next door to the cinema to see some God-awful romantic movie before buying her an ice cream, giving her a peck on the cheek, and getting her home to her parents by ten p.m. Where were the real men? Rose knew Javier hated much of America, and she thought that sometimes she did too. It wasn’t so much the place as the people that she despised. Then again, she wasn’t fussy who she killed. Most people, whether they were American, Korean, or from the North Pole, were scum. They all bled the same in the end.

  Rose was tempted to put a blindfold on Peter, but she was beginning to tire of the game she was playing, and was eager to get back inside to Javier.

  “You think you’re the first man I’ve met since this whole thing started who wanted to fuck me?” Rose laughed as she straddled Peter. “You’re not even a man. I don’t think you’d even know what to do with it.” She didn’t try to hide the contempt in her voice, and waited for Peter to open his eyes. In the moonlight, they shone brightly, and she could see his father in those piercing blue eyes.

  Confusion and embarrassment spread over Peter’s face. “What is this? I thought…”

  Rose laughed again, and her shrill laugh scared him more than anything. Suddenly Peter wanted out; he wanted to be back inside, back at Saint Paul’s, back at home, even back in the campervan - anywhere but here. He pulled at the ties around his wrists, but she had secured them well, and as much as he struggled, he could not free himself. “Let me go. This is bullshit. You’re insane.”

  Rose got off Peter and stood over him. She picked up her polo shirt, and put it back on. Yawning, she took a large knife out of her boot and watched as Peter’s face turned to fear. She yawned and let the reality of what was happening to him gradually sink in. The bulge in his jeans had gone, and he was probably about to piss himself. Rose laughed again, imagining Peter pissing himself in the chair where he thought he was finally about to lose his virginity.

  “What are you? Who are you, Mara?” he asked quietly. He wanted to cry, but how would he explain this to his parents? “Look, just let me go, and I won’t say anything. I won’t tell Gabe what happened, okay? I know you’re just messing with me.”

  “You still think you’re getting out of this, don’t you?” Rose shook her head. She enjoyed the teasing most of all. Javier was always in charge, and rarely did she get the chance to take the lead. Now she had the power, and she wasn’t going to waste it by killing him quickly. “You know how many men I’ve fucked?” she asked.

  “What? I don’t know. I don’t care.” Peter pulled at his ties, but they only seemed to get tighter as he pulled. It was nearly impossible to get up out of the chair with his hands tied behind his back, and with Mara holding a knife over him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to try.

  Rose could see Peter straining to free himself, and tiny beads of sweat were beginning to show on the boy’s forehead. She leant over him and placed the tip of the sharp knife over his crotch.

  “I would appreciate it,” she said calmly, “if you could sit still for a minute.”

  Peter nodded. A bead of sweat ran down his nose and dripped off the end. He swallowed nervously. His throat was so dry that it felt like he was trying to swallow a brick. If only someone would come check on them. If only Freya would have one of her nightmares and wake up his father. Erik would know what to do in this situation. He always knew what to do.

  Rose looked at Peter expectantly. “Well?”

  “Well…what?” Peter asked. All he could think of was the knife perched above his crotch.

  “Answer the fucking question!” screamed Rose. She instantly regretted losing her temper. The shouting might wake the others. She couldn’t afford to get caught, Javier had made her quite aware of that, so she was going to have to finish this quicker now. She leant in closer to Peter, so her lips were only an inch from his. “Answer the fucking question, Peter.” Her cheeks were flushed with rage, and her hands holding the knife trembled.

  Peter froze, and looked down in terror. Mara was pressing the knife down on him, and he could feel the pressure above his groin. Any further, and she would break through his pants. He didn’t want to think what would happen after that.

  “Okay, okay, I apologize. Um, look, I’m not really…three? Four?”

  Rose drew the blade slowly up over Peter’s belly, up his chest until it rested against his neck. The coldness of the blade made him shiver. She thought that his eyes, so full of fear, were beautiful. Such a waste.

  Rose smiled, and her voice returned to a normal level. “My father was the first one to fuck me. He was hard and quick at first, and I felt raw afterwards for days. But then he began to take his time. Enjoy it. Enjoy me. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it, but…”

  “I’m sorry,” whispered Peter.

  “Don’t be.” Mara pushed the blade against Peter’s neck until the tip of the knife nicked his skin, and tiny droplets of bright red blood appeared.

  Peter tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. She had him pinned against the chair, and his hands were wrapped up tightly. Christ, why wasn’t someone coming? He had taken on the night watch with Mara and knew it would be some time before anyone else came along. This was like a bad dream, except he couldn’t wake up. Mara had gone insane. He pulled at the ties more, but there was no way out.

  Rose leaned in against Peter’s bleeding neck and whispered into his ear. “You could still have me, you know? All you have to do is kill Gabriel. Take my knife and kill him. He’s sleeping now. Slit his throat before he gets the chance to wake.”

  “You’re crazy,” said Peter. “Mara, just stop this. Just stop this and… and…”

  “And what?” Rose laughed, and a high-pitched giggle burst from
her mouth. “So, is that a no? I didn’t think you would.”

  She sighed and looked so disappointed that Peter wanted to tell her that he would do it. He wanted to tell her to smile, because she looked so beautiful when she smiled, but he kept his mouth closed. There was nothing he could say to convince her of anything, he was quite sure of that. He certainly wasn’t about to kill Gabe. Mara had lost the plot. He didn’t know what had made her flip out, but he had to keep talking to her. He realized the best way out of this was to keep her talking. His father had taught him to always try to avoid confrontation, and most situations could be resolved without the need for it to descend into physically fighting. Perhaps someone would come looking for them if he kept Mara talking long enough.

  “Mara,” he said quietly as she stared at him. “Mara, tell me what you want. I can help. You can stay with us. Leave Gabe, if that’s what you want. My parents will look after you. It doesn’t have to be like this. I don’t know what you’ve gone through, but…”

  Her face turned upward, and Rose sighed. Peter hoped someone would come soon, as he was struggling to hold onto hope. Was there any point in still hoping? Yes, he had to. Freya at least needed him. There was nothing more important in the world to him than Freya. Perhaps Mara needed a dose of reality. Had she gone so far that she couldn’t come back? Was this some twisted sex game that he just didn’t understand? Those eyes of hers that were once so real, so pretty, suddenly seemed hard and black and cold. This was no game. There was no way this woman was the cozy housewife she’d made herself out to be.

  “Mara, who are you really?”

  “Me? I’m Mara. Mrs. Gabriel.” Rose brought the blade back to his throat.

  “What’s your name, your real name?” asked Peter. He felt the blade press against his neck drawing more blood. He found himself thinking of Freya, praying that she was safe, wishing he could get through this to see her one more time.

  “My name?” Rose leered at Peter. The moon glinted in her eyes as she spoke. “I couldn’t tell you. I lost it around the same time as I lost my virginity. My father fucked them both out of me when I was thirteen. I always liked flowers, though, so I picked myself a name. You can call me Rose.”

  Rose drew the blade swiftly through Peter’s neck, and his warm blood gushed out. He spluttered and coughed, but was powerless to stop it. Rose stepped back, making sure none of the blood got on her clothes. That would be hard to explain in the morning. Peter kicked out, but his feet found nothing but the corner of the desk, and the chair spun back towards the door. Rose could see him trying to speak, trying to breathe, but he was already turning pale. The gaping hole in his neck gushed blood. His eyes were glassing over, and the spasms that coursed through his body slowly dissipated as the life drained out of him.

  “Stick,” said Rose. She looked at Peter’s lifeless body with curiosity. Would Erik go as easily? She felt more like her old self again. Killing Cindy hadn’t really sated her, and Peter had been much more fun. She wiped the knife on Peter’s shirt, and tucked it out of sight into her boots. Then she wheeled Peter’s body outside, pushing the chair out of sight across the road, and left it behind a dumpster. She severed the ties that held his hands, and checked again to make sure there was no blood on her.

  “Enjoy being dead, Peter,” she said as she re-entered the warehouse, and locked the door behind her. She made sure the office was the same as earlier, and pushed the filing cabinet back into place. “So fucking easy,” she said to herself as she made her way back to her bed with Javier. She was supposed to be on watch for another hour, until Pippa and Dakota replaced her and Peter, but she saw no reason to stay up any longer. There were clearly no zombies outside, and who was going to come looking for them in the middle of nowhere?

  * * *

  Barely fifteen minutes later, and Erik woke up. He looked at Pippa next to him, still asleep, and couldn’t make out what had woken him. He saw Freya’s bare feet sticking out and pulled down her blanket. Peter’s bed was empty, so he must still be on watch. The noises almost sounded like screams, and he sat up, concerned. As he listened, he realized he was listening to the furious sounds of fucking from above. Cries and groans accompanied the clattering of some metal railings, and it sounded more like fighting than lovemaking. Erik turned over and put his hands over his ears. It was clearly Gabe and Mara. They didn’t sound like a married couple at all. Even honeymooners wouldn’t make such a racket. He was surprised they had the energy or desire at a time like this. He looked across at Dakota and Hamsikker who were sound asleep. How had they found time to get pregnant in all of this? Erik closed his eyes and shut out the noise from above, forcing himself to sleep. It would be sunrise soon, and then there would be no rest for any of them.

  * * *

  Javier traced his fingers down Rose’s back as he admired the tattoo she had between her shoulder blades. It was a red rose, surrounded by small stars. Anyone else like her would have got a skull or a snake, but Rose had to be different. She had come back from watch and practically jumped him. Not that he minded. It had been a while since they had been together, and it was always good with Rose. No one else he had been with could summon up as much energy as her, and rarely had he found a woman who would willingly submit to all his demands. Faint moonlight came in from a window, highlighting Rose’s nakedness, and he imagined that they might even do it again while they had the chance. Killing Peter had got Rose worked up, and he had to admit he was turned on too. Knowing she had taken someone’s life only minutes earlier excited him, and it hadn’t taken either of them long to get into it.

  They decided to make their bed away from the others on the upper floor in the corner of the catwalk. They all decided it would be safer in case of attack, and nobody suspected Javier chose it because he wanted to be able to keep an eye on them.

  After they’d fucked, Rose fetched a bottle of water, and when she came back she told him that she’d bumped into Pippa. The woman suspected nothing and believed Rose when she’d said Peter had gone back to bed. Javier looked at Rose as she stared down at the sleeping form of Freya.

  Rose smiled. “You think we’ll find your brother soon? If he’s got a safe place, we could stay there. No more running. No more scavenging and looking for a bed for the night. It’d be good for Freya too. She needs a home. Look at her. Her brother is dead, her mother is weak, and her father is a cop. What chance does she have?”

  Javier knew that Rose had hardly spoken to Pippa, certainly not enough to make a judgment on her. She just wanted Freya to herself, and that was probably why she wanted the girl’s family gone first. “Hamsikker tried talking to me earlier. He said some of the others were a little uncomfortable with us, what with not really knowing who we were. They’ve been together a long time, so it’s natural to be wary of strangers.”

  “What did you tell him?” asked Rose.

  “Nothing. I told him we were just looking to find a way through this nightmare like everyone else, and that we would do whatever it took to protect the group. I said you were upset at losing the clubhouse, and I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to protect you. Then I started to choke up.”

  “You didn’t? Really?” Rose looked at Javier with amazement. Had he really been that worried about her?

  “No, not really. I faked it. Made him feel guilty, and he let me be. I was through being buddies with him. I didn’t want him asking too many questions. Besides, he thinks we’re on his side. It’s the others we have to watch out for. That old woman and the cop are the ones who we need to win over.”

  “I hate that pig,” said Rose. She looked down longingly at Freya.

  “You know, we could do with checking the ammo situation. Before they realize that Peter’s missing, why don’t you ask Erik to help you take a checklist of everything we’ve got in the van?” asked Javier. “I’m sure he’d understand that I wouldn’t send Mara out there alone to do such an important job. It’s not safe out there.”

  “Why do I have to go?” asked Rose. “
With him?” She lay back down beside Javier and kissed his sweaty chest.

  “Rose, listen to me.” Javier sometimes wondered if he was speaking in a foreign language. Was she not getting it on purpose or trying to wind him up? “It’s not safe out there. Anything could happen. The dead are everywhere. If, say, one of those dead, nasty motherfuckers sneaked up on you and Erik whilst you were out there, well…”

  Rose looked deep into Javier’s eyes, reached up and kissed him. “So if only one of us were to come back…”

  “It’s just an idea. You be careful, Rose. He’s not as dumb as his boy.” Javier kissed Rose and cupped her ass. It wouldn’t be difficult getting Pippa on her own, and he would kill her while Rose took care of Erik. Javier wanted to slim down the little traveling party he had got together, and Erik was expendable. He was just too dangerous to keep around, especially now his son was gone. With Peter gone, and Erik and Pippa on the way out, the next one on Javier’s list would be Mrs. Danick. Terry was annoying, but he could be useful up to a point. The old woman was a serious pain in the ass. She never quit haranguing him, and it was as if she knew he wasn’t who he said he was. All those questions at the clubhouse about the photographs, and all the insinuations and snide comments she made had to stop. She needed to be made to stay silent, forever. Old people could suffer from any number of things. Heart attacks, for one. They died in their sleep. Perhaps it was time for Mrs. Danick to meet her maker after all.

  Javier had originally planned to only have Erik and Hamsikker go with him to Canada, and now it was time to tweak that plan. If it kept Rose happy, Freya could tag along too. He knew Rose too well though. She would get fixated on something and want it so much that she would do anything to get it. Ultimately, she would tire of her new toy, and when she was bored, it usually ended up with him having to get rid of it. So he’d let her have the girl for a while, until she decided she’d had enough, and then he had no doubt who would have to finish her. He had no compunction in killing children; it was just another part of life that he had forced himself to get used to long ago.