In that moment, he wanted to reach out for his daughter, wanted to hold her close and kiss her, but his face met the steering wheel with a solid crunch, and then there was only a deep blackness.
***
Paco heard the men talking as they pulled Calico’s body out of the car. It took him a moment to realize he was on the floorboard in the passenger seat, but he was hidden from the men by the deployed airbag and the broken plastic all around him. All at once he was aware of the intense pain throbbing in his hand, but he swallowed down the shriek that wanted so desperately to explode.
“Got someone in the back,” one of the men said.
“Oh, fuck…it’s Ed…and Ray. They dead as hell, man.”
There was some shuffling around, the SUV rocked a few times, then a door slammed. Above the thumping of his pulse, he thought he heard the grunts of Beauty somewhere, but he couldn’t be sure.
He didn’t want to move. Didn’t even know if he could move. His body ached from what he guessed was a car accident. The last thing he saw was the airbag as it inflated and collided with his face, but from his view on the floor, he could tell the car was wrecked. The driver’s airbag hung limp from the steering wheel and there was shattered glass and broken plastic everywhere. Everything smelled like hot oil.
He gave his wound a quick glance, saw the holes on either side of his hand, just above the wrist, in the meaty part of his palm and out the back. The pain was like nothing he’d ever felt before, but he couldn’t think about his own pain. For all he knew, his sister was already chopped up, already eaten.
Got to get out of here…got to find her.
He waited for the men’s voices to fade, and didn’t move until the only sound that remained was the crickets and the clicking of the car engine. The space between the seat and the dashboard was barely big enough to fit his head, and he had to squeeze it through. The soft spot on his forehead pulsed with pain, but he fought through it until his upper torso was free. Gripping the seat, he pulled the rest of his body out, then lay there for a moment while he collected himself. Hot flashes of pain erupted all over.
The cool air felt good on his injuries, and he let it massage him for a moment before he peeked one eye through the passenger window. There was a house, huge glass panes along the side where he could see lights and movement. Then there were men walking, dragging Calico’s limp body along, leaving a streak of blood behind him.
But he still didn’t see Sophia.
Shit!
He tried to pop the passenger door open, but it wouldn’t budge, was bent at an odd angle. Just before slipping out of the window, his eye caught something metal gleaming silver moonlight in the back seat.
Papa’s rifle. He checked his pocket and felt there was still some ammunition there. Not much, but it would have to do.
He could just barely reach the rifle with the bulging wreckage in his way, but he swiped it from the floor, squeezed too hard and yelped when his hand reminded him of its injury.
Jagged beads of glass still clung to the window frame, and he used the gun to sweep it out of the way before he slithered through and slid out of the truck. His body hit the damp lawn, but his attention was on the glass panes of the house, making sure no eyes were on him.
He crept across the grass, found a thicket of bushes that he sidestepped into before peering into the house.
He saw the same two men, Calico still unconscious between them. Then both men looked up and stood straighter at the same moment, and strolling into Paco’s line of vision was the old man, Ted Fleet, and an Asian woman who dragged Sophia behind her by the wrist.
Paco took aim.
“Unghhh…”
He jumped, stumbled backward. The sound came from the wreckage, and he squinted against the darkness to try and make it out.
A metallic tapping sound, and then another moan.
Beauty!
He rushed back across the lawn, the rifle’s barrel still squeezed tightly in his good hand. “Beauty,” he whispered. “Beauty, where are you?”
“Anunghh.”
There was just a flutter of movement on the mangled hood of the SUV. Paco dropped the gun when he saw her. “Oh, Beauty…”
The girl showed no signs of pain. Paco knew she was dead, knew the dead couldn’t feel, but the way her body was bent, he figured she had to feel something.
She was bent like a C, her back wrapped around the tree. The jagged car metal of the hood bit into her face and stomach, flaps of loose, leathery skin fluttered in the slight wind. One arm swung, kept tapping against the SUV, while the other sat on the lawn, detached and crawling along like a drunken grass snake. Her mouth moved up and down, some of her teeth missing, and through it all, she looked pleased to see Paco.
“Come on,” he said as he peeled her away from the mess. “I’ve got you.”
As he pulled her off the tree, there was a sickening tearing sound, but he didn’t look to see what it was.
When the scream rang out from inside of the house, Paco laid Beauty’s broken form in the grass, whispered to her that he’d be back, scooped up the rifle, and crept back to the window. He peered through the scope.
You…you son of a bitch!
He clenched his teeth and took aim.
***
Calico burst to consciousness when the cold water splashed over his face. He swallowed a mouthful of it as he gasped, choked on it for a minute as he became aware of his situation.
An Ugh and a Grunt on either side of him, holding him up by his arms. He immediately searched the room for Beauty, and when he didn’t see her, he struggled against his captors, but his body refused to overpower them, refused to fuel him with the adrenaline he needed.
“Well, well,” Fleet said. Calico lifted his head just high enough to stare the man down. “We find ourselves back in my home…twice in one night, hmm?”
“Let me go!” Sophia wrestled with the Asian woman’s arm, but the woman’s fingers clutched Sophia’s wrist tightly. The woman smiled at Calico.
“I guess this was inevitable, isn’t that right, Calico?” Fleet said.
“I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Been dreaming about it for a long t-time.” The men tightened their grip on him.
“Oh, I know you have. Can’t really say I blame you, though I’m going to kill you anyway. And your daughter?” He chuckled, ran his tongue over the front of his teeth. “She’ll be delicious. After she’s a star, of course.” He looked down at Sophia. “Could use a little snack as a matter of fact.”
He pulled the girl’s hand to his mouth, bit down on her finger and flayed the flesh away as he scraped his teeth across the digit. She screamed, kicked at him.
“Mmm, that’s fuckin’ choice.”
Crack! Glass breaking.
The old man didn’t even have time to swallow before a hole appeared in his forehead, dead center. Still clutching Sophia, he stumbled backward, then finally fell over.
“Mr. Fleet!” The Ugh let go of Calico, went to his boss.
The Asian woman pulled a gun, got into a defensive stance, her head twisting in all directions and teeth bared.
Crack!
A bloody gash opened up the side of her neck and she fell backward beside Fleet, kicking her legs and grasping at her wound.
The surge of adrenaline he begged for finally came, coursed through his veins, and with his free hand, Calico reached up and grabbed hold of Grunt’s testicles, twisted them like a doorknob.
When the man bent over from the pain, Calico clapped his hands over the man’s head, twisted as hard as he could until he felt a series of pops. The man’s body jerked and danced on the floor as death took him away.
“What the fuck! D-don’t move!” Ugh screamed from beside his boss’s motionless body, pistol pointed but shaking.
Sophia tried to crawl away, but Fleet’s hand still gripped her wrist, refused to let go even though the old man was dead.
Calico snarled as he rose to his feet, swept his blood soaked hair from
his eyes. “Just me and you now.”
“The hell it is,” he said as he pulled his cell phone out. His eyes darted from the keypad to Calico over and over as he frantically dialed. “Hey…hey, man. It’s me! Get your ass—”
Another gunshot. The bullet hit the wall behind Ugh, and when the man turned to look at the hole in the sheetrock, Calico surged forward, dove on top of him. He leaned in and bit into the soft flesh of the man’s throat, jerked his head back and tore a chunk away, spat the wad of meat to the floor. Ugh choked on his blood, coughed, kicked his legs and clutched at the ragged hole in his neck. By the time he stopped moving, Grunt was already rising to his feet.
“Paco?” Calico said as stretched his body to test it for new injuries. “That you?”
“Yeah…it’s…it’s me.”
“Beauty with you?” He tried to sound calm, but his voice wavered as he said it.
“She’s here…but she’s hurt. I mean, not hurt, but…”
Calico shook off the rust and was about to jump out the window Paco was speaking from, find his daughter and hold her close.
“We’re not finished here.”
“No…no, let me go, let me go!” Sophia screamed.
Calico turned slowly to face what was most certainly impossible.
“Sophia!” Paco shouted as he climbed into the window. He ran across the room, rifle in hand, but Calico caught him with an outstretched arm.
Fleet replaced the cowboy hat atop his head, tickled the bullet hole on his forehead. “Gonna have to get that plugged up, ain’t I?”
“You…you’re dead?” Calico said. He shook his head, tried to find more words but could only say: “How? You…you eat meat…”
“I thought I was the only one of my kind until I met this little bitch,” he said as he stood and pulled Sophia in front of him. “And the meat…it makes me feel alive…makes my body tingle.” Fleet chuckled, ran his fingers through the girl’s hair. “But this one…this one is special. And once I get her in front of a camera, she’ll be famous.” He bent down, eyes still on Calico and Paco, and grabbed the gun from Ugh’s hand as his waking corpse thrashed on the floor.
His eyes left Calico for a moment as he struggled to loosen the gun, and Calico leapt into action.
***
When Calico ran toward Ted Fleet, Paco aimed his rifle, but it clicked empty when he pulled the trigger. He checked his pocket and didn’t feel any more ammo.
The old man yanked the pistol from his dead man’s hand and smiled at Calico, and just before Calico reached him, he raised the gun and fired a shot.
Calico grunted, slowed his pace, but his momentum carried him directly into Fleet’s chest. Both men fell backward, Calico landing hard on top of Fleet.
“Sophia…I’m coming.” Paco sprinted toward his sister who still fought against the old man’s hand, which refused to let go.
“F…ccckkk…killll…y-you,” Calico muttered as he clutched at the old man’s face. Blood pooled around him and soaked into Fleet’s clothes.
Fleet smiled up at Calico as he struggled to free himself. “I won’t kill you right away, you hear me? I’ll make you watch while your daughter gets fucked. I’ll make you watch while I eat her up bit by bit.”
Paco grabbed hold of Sophia’s free arm and pulled with all of his strength, but Fleet’s grip was like a bear trap. He stomped on the old man’s wrist, grinded his heel in, and though flaps of flesh tore loose, the grip never loosened.
“Let her go, asshole! Let her go!”
Sophia whimpered as she pounded on his hand.
Calico grunted, then sighed and went still. Fleet rocked himself, almost had Calico off of him.
Paco scrambled around the room, looking for something…anything he could use to pry his sister free of this maniac.
He’s dead…and talking, just like Sophia.
Calico’s pant leg was bunched up at his knee, and glinting in the light was his knife, tucked into its holster. Paco dove for it, yanked it out with a shink.
“And you, boy,” Fleet said. “I’ll make you star in the movie alongside your sister, huh? Two children in one film, one alive and one dead, both getting fucked from every angle. You ready to be fucked, boy?”
With two quick chops, he separated Fleet’s hand from his arm. Sophia crawled away, hugged Paco’s arm and wept.
“No, old man,” Paco said as he eased his arm from Sophia’s clutches and straddled Calico’s back, peering into the Fleet’s face. “Me and my sister are going home.”
Fleet struggled to get away, beat at Paco with his wrist stump, but he couldn’t free himself. Paco sawed at the old man’s neck, baring his teeth the whole time, tears streaking down his cheeks.
“Y-you don’t touch my s-sister…you can’t have her!” When the head popped free, Paco picked it up and spiked it into the ground, then crumbled to the floor, hugging his knees and rocking himself.
Sophia crawled to him, and when he felt her arms wrap around him, he hugged her, squeezed her as he sobbed, cried for his sister, for Mama and Papa, for his innocence.
Fleet’s head continued to scowl and hiss, and though his mouth moved up and down, no words would come. His body flailed under Calico’s.
“Is he dead?” Sophia said, looking at Calico with sad eyes.
“No…I don’t think so. He wasn’t an addict and he hasn’t woken up yet.”
The two dead men wandered the room, moaning and shuffling their feet. Paco could see more dead men wandering the yard outside through the window, some with tire tread pressed into their flesh.
“Now what, Paco? Are we really going home?”
The thought was nice, but Paco didn’t know if he could bring himself to go back home, back to the empty house that imprisoned the ghosts of his happy memories.
Paco stood, took a deep breath, and walked to Calico’s side. His hand screamed with pain, but just having his sister back by his side, safe and in one piece, he didn’t mind the pain.
“C-calico?” Paco knelt beside the big man, shook him by the shoulder. “Calico, wake up…Beauty needs you to wake up.” Paco lowered his shoulder and pushed, rolling Calico over. Fleet’s body writhed, army-crawled in circles beside them.
Paco tapped Calico’s slit cheeks. “Did you hear me? Your daughter is hurt…and she needs you. W-we need you.”
“He’s dead,” Sophia said.
And just then, a rattling moan crackled from Calico’s throat and his eyes just barely split open. He smiled at Paco. “You…you d-did good, kid. Real g-good.”
“Can you stand, are you all right?”
Calico sat up, bared his teeth and hissed. His shirt was soaked through with blood, but Paco couldn’t tell where the newest gun shot was. The man was a mess, and Paco couldn’t believe he wasn’t screaming from agony.
Then he stood, clutched his stomach. “I’m going to n-need a first aid kit. I c-can patch myself up. I’ve been w-worse, believe me.” He looked around, winced. “Where’s Beauty? Where’s my daughter?”
“She’s outside. I pulled her off the car, but she’s…she’s in bad shape.”
Calico nodded. “She’s been in worse shape too. Just sh-show me where she is.”
Beauty lay in the grass, just where Paco had left her. Though her body was bent awkwardly, when she saw Calico approaching, she flailed and smiled.
“Come here, baby girl.” Calico collected her into his arms, rocked her as they embraced. “I got you, baby. Daddy’s got you.”
Paco scratched his head. “What now, Calico?”
“This is just the beginning, kid. I think it’s best you take your sister on home where it’s safe, where you don’t have to worry about men like Fleet and…and men like me.”
Sophia set her hand on Calico’s bloody arm. “You’re not a bad man.”
Calico laughed. “I wish I could believe that.”
Paco shook his head. “No, she’s right. And I’m not leaving until we finish this. People like Ted Fleet have to be stopped. A
nd I want to help.”
“Yeah, me too,” Sophia said.
Calico just stood there, studying the children, stroking Beauty’s hair. He snickered and nodded. “Okay. God knows I could use the help. And you’re a pretty good shot, kid.” He turned and faced the house. “There’s just one more thing we have to do first, and then we hit the road.”
“What is it?” Paco said.
***
Paco parked the truck and looked around at all the approaching addicts. He had convinced Calico to take him back to the Harrells’ for Papa’s pickup, and his hands felt good on the steering wheel. Sophia scooted across the seat and cuddled with him, refusing to look at any of the surrounding meatheads. Calico had followed them in one of Fleet’s SUV’s, the old man’s dead men piled and flopping in the back.
Calico stepped out of the driver’s seat, Beauty clutching his neck. He walked to the pickup’s passenger door and set his daughter down on the passenger seat. “This won’t take long.” He held Fleet’s head by the hair, raised it so they were eye to eye. “I know you can hear me, motherfucker. I want you to see this.”
Calico strolled back to the SUV and swung the back doors open. The dead men’s moans called to the addicts, and the emaciated junkies crept out of their hiding spots, all scratching and jonesing, and they descended on the vehicles like sharks on a whale carcass.
“Come and get it, motherfuckers!”
One by one, Calico tossed the dead men into the street. Fleet’s head sat atop the truck’s cab, its mouth gnashing and twisted.
More and more addicts came, tearing away handfuls of dead flesh and stuffing themselves with it, scurrying away with writhing body parts. They chewed on the men’s faces, arms, legs, anything they could reach with their teeth. The addicts fought each other for position, punching and kicking and whining.
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