by Jay Morris
The laughing pair re-entered the house not even bothering to keep an eye on her. She crawled over to her husband and cradled his head in her lap, she spoke so quietly OMT couldn’t hear but he could imagine her trying to assuage his anguish both mental and physical. He lifted the Moisan sniper rifle and looked through the scope. He counted at least one other male and at least one other female in the house. The other male looked young, perhaps 19 and the girl about the same age. The male was boney, rail thin and short, wearing jeans so low that his red underwear was hanging out; the girl was exceptionally tall, perhaps 6’ 1”, and heavy as well, especially through the hips. She wore skin tight jeans with beads or something on them because they glittered in the light. She had a top on that revealed rolls of fat that drooped over her waist.
He was just about to back away when yet a third male exited the house, this one was older, perhaps in his early 40’s, was bald and while carrying a fair bit of extra weight he looked strong, he stormed down the stairs, slapped Mrs. Franks then dragged her by the throat up the stairs and into the house. He heard more laughter then he heard Mrs. Franks screaming. He lowered the scope and closed his eyes; he took a deep breath and slowly worked his way back down the road until he could no longer hear Mrs. Franks’ screams. He reported in to Janey and me, giving us an over view of the situation. Janey then radioed back to Desert-1 and told them of what was happening.
OMT insisted that he would handle the situation and that under no circumstances should anyone else come up the road until he contacted them again. He was going to leave the radio in the woods so that only he would be using it. He told us to sit and wait and if we didn’t hear from him within an hour we were to leave, join up with Mrs. Driscol and head on out. After fifteen minutes of discussion between me and Janey we decided that we had better check this out ourselves. We checked our rifles and letting Mrs. Driscol know we were going radio silent for a bit we headed up the road. I wasn’t sure if what OMT had told us was a complete lie or not, but we had to know, and if it was all a lie I was going to shoot OMT myself.
OMT circled around to the back of the house, the ‘music’ had progressed to some ballad about a hotel or a motel or something but the sound worked to OMT’s advantage. He gathered up a pile of dry leaves and twigs and set them on the back porch. He lit a cigarette and then folded a match book around it. He nestled it into the pile and then slipped back into the shadows and waited. He didn’t have long to wait, the cigarette slowly burned down to the matches and lit them. He had seen the trick in a movie years ago and sure enough it worked. The flames caught and soon thick black smoke rose and filled the awning of the back porch. The clouds billowed into the back of the house and soon there was screaming and commotion from inside.
Two men and two women stumbled onto the back porch. OMT sighted carefully on the one furthest back in the group, took a deep breath and held it, he squeezed the trigger. The back of droopy pants’ head exploded and sprayed bits of brain and blood over fat girl’s face. He worked the bolt; fat girl had started to scream but hadn’t got out of the way. The old guy shoved her clear and was half way through the door when OMT’s second round caught him between the shoulder blades. Before he could squeeze off a third round both women had ran into the house, the thin one pulling fat girl in behind her, the remnants of the smoke flowing about them like a cloak. He sighed and circled around to the front of the house.
Janey and I were in the shadows on the outside of the circle drive, they had seen Mr. Franks just has OMT has described but that didn’t prove anything to me. Suddenly we heard screaming and then two rifle shots. I started to head towards the door but Janey put a hand on my arm and whispered “wait.” So we did but both of us shouldered our M-16s. Pretty soon the two black women came running from the house, one held a shiny pistol in her hand and was waving it around, she was crying and she was screaming something about “Dimonte.” The bigger one looked like she was in shock. Johnny didn’t do anything but Janey did. A three round burst from her M-16 cut the heavy one down. At least one round had found its mark.
Suddenly automatic fire threw up sprays of dirt around us, a man on the porch held a fully automatic Tec 9 in one hand, the first few rounds hit low the others went high as the barrel rose and he continued to pull the trigger. Janey and I kept our heads down when suddenly the rapid fire blasts of the Tec 9 were permanently interrupted by one of OMT’s .41 colts. The bullet caught him under the arm pit, pierced both lungs and the path of the bullet must have left the major arteries looking like a tangled mess of ramen noodles in pink lemonade. The man was dead before he flipped over the porch railing to the ground.
Suddenly Mrs. Franks appeared in the door way, she was held in place by a very muscular arm attached to an unseen body. She was trembling and things instantly slowed down. Janey and I both waited and when it became apparent that we were not going to shoot her, ‘muscles’ made his appearance, he pulled Mrs. Franks in front of him, his powerful left arm moved around her throat, a Glock 9mm pistol in his right hand was pointed at her head. The tall, powerful man’s eyes were wide and he was screaming something but his voice was so low and he mumbled so badly that what came out sounded a bit like
“FREEZMUTHAFUDDER R ISHOSHDISBEECH!”
Janey and I stayed where we were. The big man yelled at the surviving woman to get the Tec 9 and head to the Escalade. She obeyed and headed that way, the big man’s teeth gleamed metallic and golden in the dark light and he gathered himself, regaining control.
“STAN UP YOU MUDDERS!” he commanded.
Muscles moved to the bottom of the steps, Mrs. Franks sobbing in his grasp.
“DO IT!” he yelled, a smile crossing his lips.
Apparently muscles had not realized that Janey and I were not alone. Janey whispered to me to run and she stood up, I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I wouldn’t leave her or anyone of us. So I stood up beside her, when ‘Muscles’ moved the pistol from Mrs. Frank’s temple he pointed it at us and I felt my own urine run down my pants. That was when OMT tackled ‘Muscles’ from the side and the pistol flew from his grasp. I lifted my rifle and pointed it at them but OMT, Mrs. Franks and ‘Muscles’ were too tangled up for me to get a shot. Janey took her rifle and ran towards the woman who was sitting in the front seat of the Escalade. She pointed her barrel into the woman’s face and told her not to move. Her mouth hung open in shock and she was trembling as she released the Tec 9 and it fell to the floorboards of the luxury vehicle.
Janey yelled to me, to help OMT and I headed that way, ‘Muscles’ had youth, strength and height on his side, OMT had surprise, sixty pounds and a bad back. They traded blows as they rolled across the lawn, the black man was screaming curses but OMT said nothing, he had his face buried in the taller man’s chest, protecting his own throat. ‘Muscles’ was winning, I knew that if he killed OMT I would kill him, what I was unsure of was what I might do if OMT won. There was a distinct possibility I might shoot him as well. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear Janey yelling at me but I just couldn’t do anything. I just stood there and watched them fight. Suddenly ‘Muscles’ was on top and he had both hands around OMT’s throat, choking him. I thought it was over but it seemed OMT had one other thing going for him, he cheats. OMT arched his back and raised himself up off the ground just a bit and then he rolled to one side hard. Muscles still held onto OMT’s throat but it seemed that it had lost some effectiveness as he hit the ground and lost some of his breath. OMT had lowered his chin onto his own chest as hard as he could; this made it difficult for the younger man to get his thumbs across his wind pipe. ‘Muscles’ screamed in agony as OMT drove his thumbs into his eyes, he pressed hard, then harder and blood sprayed from both of his eye sockets. OMT gouged out both of the younger man’s eyes, Muscles released OMT’s throat and grasped at the gaping eye sockets and when he did, OMT drove his right knee repeatedly into the man’s crotch.
It was over, OMT staggered to his feet, the other man rolled on the ground screaming.
OMT reached down and picked up his colt from where it had fallen. He walked back over to the man writhing on the ground, he held him in place with one huge boot, the black lady in the car screamed “NOOO!” but before she could even finish the single word OMT blew the man’s brains out, the heavy bullet causing the head to come apart. I stood there, disbelief in my eyes, I had seen death over the last 8 days, I had shot and killed creatures that had once been people. But I had not seen anything like this; all I could do was wonder if that was how he had shot my mother. I raised the rifle and pointed at Old Man Tucker.
He turned to face me, he was wobbly and the revolver hung loosely at his side. He looked surprised when he saw my gun and he froze.
“John, are you going to shoot me?”
He asked in a strange gravelly voice. He didn’t sound frightened, or even sad, just tired. It was like it was what he wanted.
“YOU SHOT MY MOM.”
I said through gritted teeth. He sighed and lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the ground. He didn’t deny it, he didn’t beg, he didn’t say anything, so I did.
“WHY DID YOU KILL MY MOM? SHE WAS YOUR FRIEND! SHE STOOD UP FOR YOU WHEN NO ONE ELSE DID AND SHE MADE YOU OLD PIE! YOU KNOW WHAT? EVERYONE ELSE WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE A PSYCHO AND A FREAK AND IT’S ALL YOU’RE FAULT! I HATE YOU! ”
Then there was a gentle touch on my shoulder, it was Mrs. Franks. She spoke quietly, softly,
“Johnny, Mr. Tucker isn’t crazy, he just does what he has to do. I may not know what happened to your Mom, but I know that much about him.”
I was unable to speak, the tip of my rifle trembling in time with my sobs. Mrs. Franks slowly reached up and put her other hand on the barrel of my rifle. She gently pushed it down towards the ground. I let her do it. I spat at Old Man Tucker,
“I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”
I took the revolvers he had given me and Billy from their holsters and threw them to the ground. Old Man Tucker didn’t look at me, he just walked over to the front porch steps and sat down and held his head in his hands.
Mrs. Franks said that there was no one else in the house so after we freed Mr. Franks, Janey asked me what I thought we should do. I said we needed to call Mrs. Driscol and get the rest of the group over here. She asked OMT where his radio was but got no response.
“Johnny, I need to get back to the SUV and call Amy but I don’t want to go alone. Will you go with me?”
I looked over at Mr. Franks who seemed so broken and helpless but Mrs. Franks said that it would be okay. I wasn’t sure but I finally agreed. First thing we did was put the chain on the black woman who kept crying about her best friend and her boyfriend. We left her shackled to the same flag pole that Mr. Franks had been. Mr. and Mrs. Franks supported each other as they limped into the building. Janey and I took the Escalade and drove it down the road to where we had hidden the SUV and made the call back to the group.
It was 20 minutes or so before we saw the lights of the Humvee pull into the private drive. They stopped and everyone got out and hugged us. Mrs. Driscol was furious when she found out what Janey and I had done but she seemed relieved that we were safe. We car pooled, Janey drove the Escalade, Mrs. Driscol drove the Humvee and Elaine, Lucy and I rode in the SUV. It wasn’t but a few minutes before we pulled into the circle drive. Old Man Tucker was nowhere to be seen, nor were any of the bodies as a matter of fact, but there was still blood stains everywhere. The chain that had shackled the black girl lay loose on the ground, no sign of the captive. It made me nervous as we started up the steps; Mrs. Driscol met us at the door, she was wearing pants, something I was happy about. We entered the great hall and Mr. Franks was on the couch.
“Where is Old Man Tucker?” I asked.
She looked uncomfortable but said that he was moving some bodies off of the back porch.
“And where is our prisoner?” Janey asked.
This time there was no response. Mrs. Driscol had to ask but as an answer all we got was
“Amy, they did things to me, to Steve, all of them, not just the men.”
Mrs. Franks was trying to tell us something. Mrs. Driscol took her hands in hers. “Karen, where is the girl?” Mrs. Franks lowered her eyes and said
“Mr. Tucker took her into the woods.” Mrs. Driscol looked confused,
“I thought you said he was moving bodies?” Mrs. Franks silently nodded.
Janey started off towards the back of the house, going through the kitchen, Mrs. Driscol and I followed. The smell of wood smoke filled the room but when we went out onto the back porch all we could see was OMT, he was dragging the last of the corpses into the woods.
“Where is she, Mr. Tucker?” Janey asked.
He looked up from his chore, made eye contact then nodded in the direction he was dragging ‘saggy pants’. Janey raced ahead and we followed, OMT coming along at his own pace. Thirty yards from the house we found the bodies. They were in a heap and they were all there, even the girl we had taken prisoner. Her eyes bulged so they practically were escaping from her sockets, her mouth frozen open in terror and her lifeless hands seeming to still be grasping at the length of clothes line around her neck.
“Oh my God.” was all Mrs. Driscol said.
OMT appeared and drug the last corpse onto the pile, he didn’t say anything, and he just turned and walked back towards the lodge. We stood there looking at the butcher’s yard, the handiwork of a mad man. I said aloud
“I should have shot him when I had the chance.”
This time no one said anything.
Day 9
We settled in the next morning, moving our equipment from our vehicles inside didn’t take as long as I thought it would with Kyle and Karen pulling most of the heavy lifting, Elaine helped after Lucy crashed out in a recliner. Mrs. Driscol also took charge of sorting everything: weapons, ammo, medical supplies, clothing, blankets, food and water. The place was actually a mess, at least in the main living areas but that would have to wait. Mr. Franks hadn’t exaggerated; this place was huge, at least 10 bedrooms and six baths. There was a huge common dining area, a den/library as well as a TV room that used a high definition digital project, more of a small theater than a TV room. The kitchen was large and well equipped but while the gas stoves still worked we had no idea how long that was going to last. We also had electricity because of a huge bank of solar panels but we had to be careful, while daytime use was not an issue the place actually was under-equipped as far as batteries were concerned. The laundry room was clearly not used by the Franks, it was too commercial for that, but rather by people their family hired to do it.
Later after lunch Elaine tracked me down and revealed what Mrs. Franks had told her and Mrs. Driscol. The Franks had driven straight through and were almost here when the silver Acura had appeared behind them. The car flashed their headlights and pulled next to them. The two young women were inside and Mr. Franks pulled over and they spoke. The girls claimed that they were alone and that their parents had died in the nearby town of Coventry and that they hadn’t heard from anyone else in days. They seemed nice enough and just like the Franks they seemed in the shock of the new situation. Without consulting his wife, Mr. Franks invited them to follow them to the lodge. He suggested that they could work there in exchange for food and board. The girls seemed thrilled although they were almost too exuberant for Mrs. Franks, there was something not quite right but without a single issue she could vocalize she agreed.
They arrived at the lodge an hour later but they found only one other of the Franks extended family had made it so far. His name was Edgar and was Mr. Frank’s cousin. He was a much older man but everything seemed okay except that Edgar kept referring to the girls as ‘colored’ although in practice he was very nice and open to them. Mrs. Franks apologized for Edgar’s terminology and tried to write it off as a reflection of the time he grew up in. The girls just seemed to laugh it off so no more was said. They had a nice dinner that night and they all went off to bed. They hadn’t set a guard and that was a
mistake that Edgar and the Franks would soon regret.
The next morning the Frank’s descended the stairs the smell of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen, still in P.J.s and robes they were taken shocked to find Edgar tied to a chair, he was naked and his underwear was shoved in his mouth, held in place by duct tape. The rest of gang had arrived, they laughed at the Franks, so naive, so stupid, dumb ass crackers. There was nothing they could do, the four men beat Mr. Franks so he couldn’t walk. They beat them and the old guy raped Mrs. Franks. The girls laughed at the white woman’s screams and on occasion inserted un-natural things into her. To call it a spanking would be like calling an aircraft carrier a boat, they beat her ass and legs with coat hangers, belts, anything they found that caught their attention.
It turned out that the oldest one, wasn’t as particular about his sexual targets. He raped both Edgar and Mr. Franks several times in front of Mrs. Franks. Just as he had raped her in front of Edgar and her husband. In one case he made her participate under specific threats to her husband that she could not bring herself to relate. Given her open discussion of the things that they did to her I don’t want to imagine what those threats may have been. The end of the festivities included a game with a noose, Edgar, and a too short rope. They made him stand on tip toes to keep from strangling himself, something else happened but Mrs. Franks wouldn’t tell Mrs. Driscol what it was but when that got boring, the old guy cut off Edgars genitals with a pair of garden shears. The big girl was clapping her hands and stomping one foot as if keeping time to unheard music while yelling things like ‘how did ol’ massa like that?’ As Edgar lost blood and couldn’t stand anymore, he strangled. That was the first day.
Things didn’t get better and the old guy, who was clearly in charge, made her do things that do not bear repeating. That was when they shackled her husband to the flag pole. They used him as leverage to control her but they still beat him from time to time, They never gave him any food and the only water he got came when Dimonte convinced the old guy to allow the thin girl (his girlfriend Janae) to give him an occasional cup of water, this happened every other day or so. She said she gave up praying for rescue, instead she prayed for death for her and her husband. That was when Old Man Tucker appeared, cold and cruel, merciless killer psycho. She finally admitted (after Janey and I left to contact the others) that she told OMT what they had done.