Chapter 27
“Come on, Ava. You can do it. Suck.”
“I can't!”
“Suck harder.”
“Nothing's happening,” I complained before dipping my head and sucking on the hose again. This time, I put more effort into it, my cheeks burning.
Liquid flooded my mouth. Vile, foul, horrid, fiery liquid. I gagged, spluttering on the petrol that seemed intent on forcing its way down my throat. Lloyd grabbed the hose and stuck it into the jerry can.
“Took you long enough.”
I'd fallen to my hands and knees, coughing and spitting. When I caught my breath, at last, I glared up at Lloyd. “Fuck you. And the next one's yours, asshole.”
He pulled a face at me then grinned as I heaved again, enjoying my discomfort. After a while, he relented and handed me a bottle of water. I snatched it from his hand and upended the bottle over my open mouth, rinsing the nasty taste away. It lingered, though, sticking to my tongue like slime. It was only the beginning.
Three hours later, I was exhausted. We'd canvassed far and wide, taking turns to siphon fuel from the cars we came across. The smell of petrol permeated my clothes, filling my nostrils and making me dizzy. The only thing that could have made my day any worse was if I had set myself on fire.
At least we can go now. The thought filled me with relief as I looked at the boot filled with rows of full jerry cans. I couldn't wait to leave behind the town and all its associated memories. We can start afresh.
Lloyd handed me more water, and I rinsed my mouth again before taking a long swallow. I looked around the unfamiliar suburb, keeping a wary eye out for movement. Twice we'd been attacked by dogs and each time, Lloyd had delivered the fatal blow. I'm beginning to feel like a shrinking violet.
“Are we done?” I asked Lloyd.
“We've got enough to make the trip and then some, but there are three more empty cans I think we should fill. Just in case. It never hurts to have extra.”
“Shit.” I gagged at the thought and reluctantly held out my hand.
He handed me a can, grinning at the face I made. “Tell you what. I'll fill two, you do one.”
“Fine. But this street is tapped out,” I replied.
“I'll head that way,” Lloyd said, pointing to the right. “You go the other way. There are more cars around the block. We can meet again back here.”
“You want us to split up?”
“What's the matter? You scared?”
I bristled at the accusation and set off without a backward glance. Fuck you, Lloyd.
When I reached the end of the block, I walked up a side street into a culdesac and spotted a truck parked in the driveway of a two-story mansion. Rich people. That meant fuel for sure.
The gate was open, the truck parked at an angle, one wheel on the overgrown lawn. I frowned. Something about the situation felt off. The door was unlocked and I popped open the petrol cap. Shrugging aside my misgivings, I stood beside the vehicle, preparing to open the jerry can's top. A shrill scream froze me in place. It was loud and shrill, filled with pain. It came from the house. I ducked down, pulling the gun from its holster and flicking the safety off.
“No!” the voice screamed again before degenerating into a shrill garble. It was a woman.
Every instinct told me to flee yet my feet moved towards the door of their own volition. The door had been forced, the wood splintered around the lock. I pushed it open, inching through. From inside issued the laughter of male voices. I paused, taking in my surroundings. The foyer was large, a single painting against the wall.
I crossed the tile floor, stopping again beneath an arched doorway. The foyer opened up into a larger room, sparsely decorated with a staircase to the right. From an opening to the left, the faint sounds of a struggle could be heard. I moved forward on silent feet, keeping my gun at the ready.
The woman's screams had dwindled to low moans and sobs, and my gait quickened. Despite the hollow feeling in my stomach, my hands were steady and my breathing even. The thought of an innocent person being tortured for sport had flipped a switch inside my brain, changing me from hunted to hunter.
I was ready.
Peering around the corner of the open doorway, I saw a man holding down a struggling figure while a second busied himself on top of her, his hips pumping in a rhythmic manner. My teeth ground together, heat suffusing my body.
I leveled the gun at the nearest, taking aim at his chest as Andy had taught me. My finger curled around the trigger. The gun bucked, and my chosen victim fell back with a cry. The other one jumped up, hampered by his pants tangled around his knees. Without pause, I shifted the barrel and pointed it at him.
He screamed and threw up his hands. “No, please! Don't shoot!”
Without meaning to, I hesitated, moved by his pleas. Then my eyes shifted to the girl lying supine on the floor, her thighs bruised and bloody, sobs wracking her body.
For a moment, I imagined it was me lying there...or worse, Lexi. Maybe Sarah. For the second time, I pulled the trigger. He fell back with a cry.
Hurrying over, I made sure that both men were down for good, then turned to the girl. She sat up, one hand gathering the torn remnants of her dress together around her legs, the other covering her bare breasts.
“Come on.” I reached down, smiling at her in my most reassuring fashion. “We've got to go.”
The girl had stretched out her arm to take my hand when her eyes widened in alarm. Rough fingers gripped my neck. I was flung backward onto the floor with tremendous force, the gun flying from my hand.
A huge figure loomed above me. I scrambled sideways as the man lunged at me, his bearded face twisted with rage. Instinctively, I kicked out. My foot caught him a glancing blow on the chin, and he growled. It was a low feral sound that struck fear into my heart.
“Bitch.”
He slapped me across the face. It was a stunning blow, and my head snapped back. My vision blacked out, and I tasted blood in my mouth. Vaguely, I registered him yelling at me through the ringing in my ears, but it sounded distant.
My attacker grabbed one shoulder and shook me violently until I thought I would bite my own tongue. All I could think about at that moment was getting away from him. Twisting free, I flung myself to the side and crawled across the floor towards the gun. My arm stretched toward it, fingertips brushing the smooth metal before I was dragged back by my ankle. Brute fingers gripped the nape of my neck, and I found myself lifted to my feet. The man's foul breath washed across my face as he turned me around to face him, faded blue eyes staring into mine.
“I'll make you pay, you red-headed bitch,” he said, his tone promising pain. His right fist connected with my jaw.
Pain exploded in my brain, shivering through my nerve endings like an electrical charge that reached to the tips of my toes. I gasped, shocked and disoriented, bloody spit dribbling from my lips. He raised his hand for another blow, and I flinched.
A loud bang penetrated the buzzing in my ears, and my attacker stiffened. Through a veil of tears, I saw his eyes roll back in his head before he fell away, freeing me.
The girl's face appeared in front of me. “Are you okay?”
Blinking, I dragged a hand across my mouth and focused on her eyes. “I'm okay,” I croaked.
With her help, I got to my feet, knees wobbling. A gurgling sound pulled my eyes back to the figure at my feet. The bearded man was struggling for breath, drowning in own blood with his mouth flapping open and shut like a fish.
“Are there any more of them?” I asked. My head swiveled around, scanning the room for danger while my senses returned to normal.
“No. He was the last.” She stared down at the dying man in mute horror. Gently, I reached out and took the gun from her hand, reassured by the comforting weight of it.
“We'd better get out of here.” I pressed the heel of my hand against my swollen and throbbing jaw before I bent over and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva.
My gaze fixed
on the girl's bare, bruised legs and I straightened. “Is this your home?”
She nodded, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.
“Family?”
She shook her head.
“Can you gather a few things for yourself? Clothes and stuff?” I turned to look at the exit. “I've got somewhere to stay if you want. Somewhere safe.”
“Okay,” she whispered, turning to go.
“Hurry,” I called after her, every instinct screaming at me to get out. Her footsteps receded up the stairs and I looked around, surveying the wreckage surrounding me.
Three bodies.
Three dead men.
Two of them by my own hand.
I was suddenly reminded of the day of the riot. How I'd wondered if I'd ever be able to kill. Now my death count was up to three if I included my would-be rapist. Bile rushed up my throat and I bent over, vomiting up the contents of my stomach until nothing remained. Blinking to clear my eyes, I stumbled outside.
Leaning against the wall, I waited until I regained my equilibrium before holstering the gun. My gaze fell on the truck in the driveway. It belonged to the girl's attackers, I was sure and walked towards it.
On impulse, I opened the door and checked inside. The interior was littered with rubbish, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust before climbing in. The key dangled in the ignition, a four-leaf clover swinging on a chain. “Lucky, my ass.”
I turned the key and the truck roared to life. The needle indicating the fuel level shot up, and I crowed with delight. “Yes! A full tank.”
Turning to the mirror, I studied my swollen face, opening my mouth to check inside. My cheek was cut and the flesh bruised but my teeth were intact.
“Thank God for small mercies,” I muttered keeping one eye on the street and the other on the front door of the house.
Growing more restless by the minute, I leaned over to scratch in the cubby hole. A shiny revolver fell out, glinting in the sunlight. With a gasp, I picked it up, turning the heavy object around in my hands. After careful inspection, I tucked it back inside and rummaged further. Old papers, a stick of chewing gum and a tube of lip ice were all I found.
The front door of the house opened and the girl emerged, carrying a rucksack and dragging a suitcase. She'd taken off the torn dress, putting on jeans, tackies, and a jacket, instead. I waited until she got in and closed the door before reversing out of the driveway.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“First, I need to pick up a friend. Don't be scared of him, please. His name is Lloyd and he won't hurt you, I promise. Then we're going home.”
“Okay.”
Her voice was low and I glanced at her face, really taking her in for the first time. Thick black hair fell in waves over her shoulders, the distinct nose, and huge dark eyes speaking of Mediterranean blood. Even bruised and beaten she was beautiful.
“Thanks for saving my ass back there,” I offered.
She turned her head and studied me from underneath long lashes. “You saved mine.”
“I'm Ava.”
“Calypso.”
I found Lloyd trudging back towards the car with a fuel can in each hand weighing him down. When he spotted the truck, he dropped into a crouch, prepared to make a run for it. I stuck my head out of the window. “It's me. Ava!”
With a perplexed look on his face, he straightened up and waited for me to pull up next to him. “Ava?”
“Need a lift?” I asked, rolling down the window. Despite the jovial tone of my voice, Lloyd could see straight off that something was very wrong.
His eyes flickered from me to Calypso, taking in the contusions, cuts, and bruises that marred our skin and his face grew taut. “What happened? Who's she?”
“This is Calypso. She's a friend and she's coming with us.” In terse terms, I told him what had happened but left out the bit where Calypso was raped.
By the time I was finished, Lloyd was purple with rage, lips compressed into a thin line. “Those fuckers can be glad you shot them or I'd have ripped their hearts out.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Are you okay? Can you drive?”
His concern for me surprised me a little, given our history of bickering. It was good to know he had my back, though. “I'm fine. You lead the way and I'll follow. I don't think we should hang around waiting for more to show up.”
“Agreed.”
Lloyd hurried back to our waiting car and after a few seconds, sped past me, racing home.
Home. It was such a relative word. Right now it meant the guest house. Tomorrow it might mean the river house. The day after that, who knew?
The only thing I did know, was that I needed to see Lexi. I needed to reassure myself that she was safe, that I was safe, and that we were still together.
No matter what fate had in store for us.
29
Chapter 28
We arrived at the guest house as the sun began its descent against the sky, the horizon darkening with the advent of night. I parked the truck out of sight behind the stone walls, while Lloyd locked the gates with the chain and padlock.
Before I could take more than two steps, Lexi was there, running across the yard to throw herself into my arms. “Ava, you're back!”
She clung to me, and I smoothed a hand over her hair, smiling. The horrors of the afternoon faded into the background for the moment.
“Told you they'd be back,” Sarah said, grinning at the two of us from the front steps.
Lexi let go of me to stick her tongue out at Sarah, and they giggled. I was glad to see the two of them getting along. At least now Lexi wouldn't be so dependant on me for company anymore.
She turned back to me, eyes shining with happiness until her gaze fell on my injured jaw. The joy leached away, and she grabbed my hand. “What happened to your face?”
“Don't worry, Lexi. It's nothing serious. I got into a fight with a bad man.” Fear washed over her face, and I rushed to reassure her. “He's gone now. He can't hurt me or anyone else ever again.”
“But you're hurt!”
“It's not so bad. I'm a little banged up but I'll be fine, you'll see.”
Calypso chose that moment to make her presence known. She walked around the truck then paused, waiting.
“Who's she?” Lexi asked while Sarah retreated back inside the house, peeping at us from around the corner.
“This is Calypso. She's staying with us now.” I gestured toward Lexi and Sarah. “This is Lexi, my sister, and Sarah, Lloyd's cousin.”
“Is this all of you?” Calypso asked, her dark eyes unreadable.
“Yup,” I replied and thought I caught a flicker of relief cross her face.
“Calypso? That's a pretty name!” Lexi said. For the moment, my injuries were forgotten in the excitement of meeting someone new.
Calypso smiled faintly. “Thank you, Lexi. It's Greek.” Then her smile faded and her eyes became haunted. “My mother was Greek. She's gone now.”
“My mom's gone too,” Lexi replied, her little face becoming somber. “And my dad.” Then she brightened and grabbed Calypso's hand. “Come and meet Sarah.”
Calypso threw me a bewildered look, and I decided to rescue her. “Lexi, I think we need to get Calypso settled in first. She's very tired.”
Lexi frowned. “I suppose so.”
Sarah stepped up and called Lexi aside, distracting her while I led Calypso into the house. We crossed the foyer, and I pointed out all the rooms. “This used to be a guest house so there's plenty of space.”
We trudged up the stairs and down the hallway where I pointed to the room next to mine. “You can stay here. I sleep next door with Lexi. The next one is Sarah and at the very end is Lloyd's room.”
“Thank you,” Calypso replied. She dropped her bags on the floor and stood there, an uncertain look on her face.
“I'll warm you up some water if you'd like to wash,” I offered.
“That...that would be great,” she replied, a catch in her voice.
“I'll stay. There are precious few people left in the world.” She was silent for a few moments, and I turned to leave. “Decent people, that is.”
The raw pain in her voice froze me to the spot, and I hesitated in the doorway, not sure what to say. Finally, I asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, I don't. Not now, not ever.” Calypso shut the door with a click, and I stared at the peeling paint around the handle, my heart aching for her. Two seconds later the sobbing began, the wrenching cries dogging my footsteps as I walked away.
After cleaning myself up, I warmed a pail of water and delivered it to Calypso's room with toiletries, a towel, painkillers, and antiseptic cream. Lingering in the doorway, I chewed on my lip as I worked up the nerve to broach the delicate subject of her rape.
“I don't know how to say this but...do you need anything special? Our medical supplies don't provide for a situation of this kind.”
Calypso stared at me with trembling lips, not answering.
“That is...we could try and get it if there was something specific.” My words tumbled over each other, a blush staining my cheeks.
Calypso curled her shaking hands into fists and squared her shoulders. “I'm okay. All I need is some time alone.”
Her tone was curt, and I took it as the firm dismissal it was intended to be. I trudged downstairs and joined Lloyd outside, helping him to unload the car.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess. Considering.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“I'd rather not.”
“Fair enough,” he replied. “But can I ask one thing?”
“Go ahead.”
“Did you leave any of them alive?”
“What?”
Lloyd straightened up and looked into my eyes. “Are they coming after us? Did you leave behind a witness?”
“Oh,” I answered, comprehension dawning. “No. They're all dead.”
The Black Tide I: Remnants (Tides of Blood) Page 23