by Russ Watts
“So you saw us out there? You were watching?” asked Rilla.
“Yeah we were watching. What, do you really think that we’d still have a place like this if we weren’t? There’s a camera above the door. We can’t get the perimeter cameras working, but at least we’ve got the door covered. Anyone shows up we can flick a switch and let them in. Conan saw you heading here and got me long before you dumb fucks started bouncing around that annex.”
“Right, well then you’ll know that we can’t cause you any trouble. We don’t have any guns.” Rilla glanced at the gun in Conan’s pocket and wondered if that was all they had. She hadn’t seen Verity produce anything, and if Conan was the only one armed then there might be a chance of getting out of this. “You have to know we’re just ordinary people. We just wanted to see Attwood. This place is the best chance of surviving this nightmare. Where is he anyway? I want to talk to him.”
“That’s not possible right now.” Butcher reached across to a glass table where a decanter and six crystal glasses were.
As he grabbed a bottle of Scotch, Rilla noticed a gun under his jacket. She also saw a set of cutlery next to the decanter including a sharp knife. She had no doubt she could reach it before Butcher even realized what she was doing, but with Conan there she couldn’t risk it. He had already proved he wouldn’t hesitate to kill when he had shot Jeremy, and she wasn’t about to risk Victoria’s life. She also wasn’t about to wait all night for Butcher to get to the point. Her parents were still in that annex, or even worse had been thrown back out onto the street to face the zombies. She had to push things and get Butcher moving.
“Is he asleep?” Rilla stood up. “Attwood, you here?” she shouted. “Attwood, you hear me? Your caretaker is making an ass of himself.” She looked at Butcher directly. “Or maybe he’s just the guy who cleans out the septic tank?”
Butcher drank straight from the bottle of scotch and then put it back on the glass table. He ignored Rilla and walked to the sofa where Victoria sat.
“Hey there. You tired, darling?” Butcher looked up at Rilla and gave her a withering look as he continued speaking to Victoria. “You want to go to bed?”
He deliberately emphasized the last word knowing it would antagonize Rilla. She thought she could wind him up with her acerbic comments about him working for Attwood, but he had all night to play games. He could tell that Rilla was strong and not truly afraid of him. She hadn’t understood yet what she had gotten into. She still thought her family was safe, alive; she needed to understand just who was in charge.
“I think—” began Victoria, before Rilla cut her off.
“You leave her alone,” said Rilla grabbing Butcher’s arm. “Victoria, ignore him. Don’t listen to him.”
Butcher had been expecting Rilla to try something, and as she grabbed his arm he whipped around, forcing her arm around her back.
“Let go of me,” protested Rilla as she struggled to get free.
Forcing her back against the glass table, Butcher grabbed the gun from underneath his jacket and shoved it under Rilla’s nose. “Now just listen to me you fucking bitch. I will do whatever I want. I don’t work for Attwood. This place is mine. You want to talk to him, sure, I’ll take you to him. But first I need to know you’re going to behave.” Butcher drew the gun from under Rilla’s nose and pointed it at Victoria who remained on the sofa crying. “You going to behave?”
Rilla knew that the knife was right behind her almost within reach. The arm that Butcher had pinned was brushing against the decanter, and she could almost feel the knife. Yet there was something in his eyes that told her he was serious. He would shoot Victoria just to make a point. His breath reeked, and those brown eyes of his were hard and full of anger. He believed himself and thought he had all the answers. Rilla had to wait, find that one moment when he let his guard down, and then she would do whatever it took to get her family and Victoria to safety.
“Yes, I’ll behave.” Rilla said the words calmly and coldly. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was scaring her. “I’m...sorry.”
Butcher pushed Rilla back down onto the sofa. He pinched the top of his nose and sighed. “Let’s start again, and quit the messing about. How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” said Rilla, defiantly. “Vicky is ten, almost eleven.”
Butcher seemed pleased with the information. He looked across at Conan who was nodding his head. “Right then. I guess you don’t add up to much. I think we can get some use out of you though.”
“Wow, thanks a lot. I’m so lucky that you think so highly of us.” Rilla rubbed Victoria’s back and held her. The girl was withdrawn and scared, yet Rilla had no way of getting her out of there. “Mind you, Butcher, I get the impression you don’t think a lot at all.”
Butcher clapped his hands and let out a little laugh. “Hear that, Verity? This one’s got some fight in her.”
Rilla looked around the room, but there was nothing she could use to fight them off. She was outnumbered and outgunned, and as much as she hated to admit it, was going to have to go along with Butcher. Not that she intended to make it easy for him. Her father had brought her up to not be a pushover, and with Victoria in her care, she wasn’t about to cave now. “So can we go let my family in now?”
“Verity, I think it’s time little Victoria got to bed,” said Butcher looking at Rilla. “Take her up and make sure she’s tucked in tight. I don’t want any more surprises tonight.”
“Where are you taking her?” asked Rilla. “I’m not letting her go anywhere without me.”
“She’ll be fine,” said Verity. The old woman approached the sofa, dragging her bare feet across the expensive carpet. A limp unlit cigarette dangled from her mouth, and Verity held out her hand. “I’ll make sure to take good care of her. You can look in on her later.”
Rilla looked at Verity and knew she had no choice. At least Victoria seemed to be in better hands with her than with Butcher. And Rilla didn’t trust Conan as far as she could throw him.
“Vicky, go with this lady. I’m going to talk to Mr. Butcher, okay? I’ve got to go with him and get my parents. Your Mom too. Okay?”
Reluctantly, Victoria let go of Rilla’s hand and stood up. She looked at Rilla for reassurance.
“I want to go home,” said Victoria, shyly. “I just want to go home.”
“Go on. Verity will take you to your new room. I’ll be up shortly.”
Rilla hated not being able to reassure Victoria, but her home was as far away now as Rilla’s. As Rilla watched Victoria nervously take Verity’s hand, she wondered if her parents were still in the annex or had been thrown outside yet. How long would they survive out there at night without any weapons? How long could they survive? She had no option but to trust that Verity would look after Victoria, painful though it was to let the girl out of her sight. Perhaps they should’ve stayed at Jeremy’s. Perhaps seeking out Attwood’s had been a mistake after all.
Verity led Victoria out of the room, and then Rilla stood up to face Butcher. “You promise she’ll be okay?”
“Conan, you can go back on watch now. Keep an eye out for any more unwanted visitors, though I think we’ve had all we’re due for one night. Don’t forget to clean up the cages in the morning and wash down the garage. Then Tad can take over on watch.”
Rilla felt relieved knowing that Conan had to go back out on watch. That meant he couldn’t do anything with Victoria. There was an uneasiness that crept through Rilla as she watched Conan silently leave the room. Butcher had mentioned someone else. She had assumed that it was just Butcher, Conan, Victoria, and Attwood here, but now there was someone else.
“Tad?”
Butcher smiled. “Don’t worry, you can meet him in the morning. I’m sure he’s going to love you. For now, we need to go get your parents, right? Maybe give you a little tour of the place?”
Butcher took Rilla’s arm sharply and held the gun to her back. “Just remember, no more games. Otherwise Vi
ctoria is going to have a very short stay here. I can assure you, though, it’ll be one she remembers.”
As Butcher led Rilla out of the room, a hundred thoughts swirled around her head. The smile that spread across Butcher’s face when he mentioned Tad had elicited disturbing thoughts about why he would ‘love’ her. She was putting a lot of faith in Verity about whom she knew nothing. She was worried about all the others she had left behind and even felt guilty for being in the house when they were still behind her in danger. Why was Attwood employing such assholes as his security?
“So the zombies can’t get in here?” asked Rilla, as Butcher led her back into the cool night air.
“No chance,” said Butcher confidently. “The walls running around the property, combined with the natural moat we have, mean we have had zero incidents. Zero. The only way in or out is through the garage and annex that you came through earlier which we have under constant supervision.”
“You’ve got it all worked out,” said Rilla. As they walked back from the house to the garage she tried to look around the property. It was dark, too dark to see clearly, and other than a few trees and a couple of vehicles, the place was apparently deserted. Attwood was probably sleeping soundly letting his henchmen take care of everything. “Of course, if you take it all for granted then one day it’ll all come crashing down around you. Those zombies will find a way in eventually. They’re not dumb animals.”
“Oh, I know,” said Butcher. “I’m quite impressed by them. Truthfully, they show a lot of resilience if you think about it. They never give up, never stop—not for nothing. Some of them have walked miles and miles across all types of terrain and through all kinds of weather. Yet they keep on coming. Nothing stops them. You can’t talk to them, make them turn around, or do anything. They don’t worry about visas or passports. None of that shit applies anymore. The only thing we can do is stay behind these walls and wait it out. One day something else will come along and wipe the scum out: a plague or a disease or something. Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe they’ll do us all a favor and kill each other, just turn on themselves instead of coming after us and bringing their problems to my door. Poor fucks.”
“Or maybe they’ll take a bite out of your ass, and you’ll be just like them, wandering around out there looking for your next meal.”
“Not likely, sugar.” Butcher shoved Rilla down the path to the garage and stopped her short of the door. “I’ve got Conan watching my back, not to mention the others. Plus, now I’ve got you.”
As Rilla waited for Butcher to unlock the door, she heard the sound of dogs barking coming from inside. “What’s going on? Did you send my parents back out there? Whose dogs are those?”
Butcher put one hand on the door and pointed the gun at Rilla. “You really want to know?”
Rilla nodded. She wasn’t confident that she did, but she had to. She couldn’t just abandon her parents or the rest of them. She had to know what was going on, even if the worst had happened, and he had thrown them outside unarmed. Rilla worried about Charlie, even though she barely knew her. There had been a connection between them from the outset, and she would hate to lose the chance to get to know her better. As Rilla watched Butcher punch a code into a panel on the wall, she saw how contented he was. He enjoyed the power he held over her; relished it even. He was a sadist and probably got off on others’ pain. When he had finished entering the access code for the upper level, he waved the gun in Rilla’s face and ordered her to go up.
“Up there. I’m not going to waste what power we have turning the rest of the facility on, but you can see from the upper gantry what you need to. You’ll figure it out.”
With Butcher behind her, Rilla climbed the flimsy metal staircase to the door at the top of the garage. The light above the door was green, and she cautiously pushed it open as the barking of the dogs grew louder.
“What is this?” she asked, as she stepped over the threshold onto the flimsy metal walkway that offered a viewing platform above the annex. “It’s pitch black in here.”
Butcher stayed in the doorway and held the door open. “Let your eyes adjust. You’ll see in a moment.”
It took a few seconds before Rilla could understand what she was seeing. The room was still locked, and the barking and grunting noises of the dogs below echoed loudly around the smelly room. She thought there were probably three or four dogs, but couldn’t be sure, and as she watched she saw shapes appear on the floor. There were six in total, large dark blobs that remained motionless no matter how much the dogs pulled at them with their teeth.
Rilla put a hand over her mouth and nose. The smell was almost overwhelming, and it wasn’t just the smell of dogs, but of something more, something base and evil. It was the smell of death. “What have you done?”
Rilla looked at Butcher in the doorway behind her, her hopes and fears washing over her as she saw the glint in his eye. Surely this wasn’t what she thought? Surely he was playing a trick on her?
“Where are my parents? Kyler? Charlie? Did you throw them out?” Rilla wanted Butcher to say yes. She wanted him to tell her that he had let them go back onto the streets with a chance to get home. Five minutes ago she had hoped they were still here, but now she needed to know they weren’t. The dogs below were huge and ferocious, she could tell that much, and the longer that Butcher didn’t answer her, the more her fears grew. Rilla’s throat closed up, and she started shaking.
“Tell me,” she demanded. “Tell me right now.”
“No. I didn’t throw them out. Once you come through that door it doesn’t open again,” said Butcher.
“But...” Rilla looked back into the dark room and peered at one dog in particular. Its coat was jet black, and its eyes seemed to almost glow in the darkness as if it were a hound released from Hell. It was gnawing on something, and as Rilla looked closer at the object in the dog’s mouth she saw the object was an arm. Three pale fingers adorned one end, and the other abruptly came to a halt in a bloody stump. The dog chewed on it as it if was half starved.
“No, this isn’t... this can’t—”
“Sorry, Rilla, but your family is right where I left them,” said Butcher. He peeked over the control panel into the room and saw the motionless shapes on the floor. It was a sight he was familiar with and was becoming bored with. At first it had been entertaining to watch; amusing to see how people tried to fight back, to claw and hammer and bludgeon their way out of a locked room. He had lost a couple of dogs over time, but very rarely did anyone get the better of his pets. If they ever did, he made sure a bullet to the head took care of it.
“Jesus, no.” Rilla’s knees buckled, and Butcher caught her.
“Okay, time to go. Say goodbye to Mom and Dad.”
With Rilla sobbing hysterically, Butcher carried her back down the stairs and watched as the green light turned red. Back on solid ground, he let her go, and she fell to her knees. Rilla clutched the earth and brought great mounds of dirt up in her hands. It was cold and dry, and she let it fall through her fingers.
“Why?” Rilla couldn’t believe her mother and father were gone, just like that: Lyn, Kyler, and Charlie too. All of them gone, all of them dead; and not just dead, but murdered by this madman.
“Why?” Rilla screamed. She jumped up and began to beat Butcher’s chest. “Answer me, God damn you!”
Butcher grabbed Rilla’s wrists and looked at her tear-stained face. “You came to me with nothing. You offered me nothing. A couple of knives, some tins of food, and eight hungry mouths. You would’ve bled me dry. You think this place is paradise, but once I start letting people in, I have to let everyone in. Fuck that. No fucking way am I doing that. This place is a paradise precisely because I don’t let people in. If I let your family and friends in, then more would come. Then soon they would want to make changes, want me to adapt to their ways, their culture. No way is that happening. I’ve got it good here, and it’s staying that way.”
Rilla tried to pull away from Butcher, but h
e had two strong hands holding her close. She looked up at him. This man had killed her parents, and she wanted him dead. If she could get that gun off him she would shoot him dead right then, right there, without hesitation. But all she could think about was that Butcher had made a mistake. He had let her live. So obviously he thought she had something to offer. If she could understand his thinking, then maybe she could get him to talk and let his guard down. The second she got a chance to take that gun, then she would end it all and gain some sort of vengeance for what he had done. “Why me? Why Vicky?”
Butcher pulled Rilla closer so she was forced to look right into his eyes. “Me and my boys get lonely. You can understand that, right? The only woman here is Verity, and I’m not into doing my own Mother, no matter how insane you think I am.”
Rilla tried to pull away, but Butcher had her wrapped up tight. Verity had raised this psychopath? Did she know what he was up to? Did she know what her son did to people unlucky enough to come here? Rilla could feel the gun nuzzled against her chest. She grabbed one of Butcher’s arms and held onto it like a life raft. She felt like she wasn’t just lost, but drifting out over a burning ocean into Hades. “This place is Hell. I thought it would save us, but it’s the opposite. You’re fucking mad. You’ve destroyed everything. All you’ve done with this place is create Hell on Earth.”
“Hell?” Butcher stared at Rilla with cold hard eyes. “This place is fucking pearly gates and angels compared to life out there. I’m surprised Jesus himself hasn’t paid us a visit yet. This place allows you to govern your own lives and not be dictated to by anyone else. Those fuckers outside these walls can’t get to us in here. Don’t you see how much stronger we are for being in here? Those zombies—once you let one in, you may as well let a thousand in. You are royally fucked. One by one they keep on coming, insidiously, any time of day or night with no warning, with no thoughts but getting what’s yours. This life we have is ours to protect, and by God, I’m going to do whatever I have to.”