The Dark Roads

by Lemmons, Wayne

  He looked at the group of them for a moment before pointing to Elvis. Two of Bail's men immediately grabbed Elvis by the arms and drug him a few feet away. Guns that had been pointed casually at the ground were now pointed at Elvis. His oily black hair hung down in his face, but the anger was still there in his eyes. He shook his head at Richie, telling him instantly that it didn't matter. He would survive these people if he was left.

  "You have until I count to three. After that, you'll only have two to choose from. I hate to do it, Richie. Hell, the feeders won't even take him if he's dead. Spoils the meat, I guess. But don't test me, son. Now let's get this done."

  "Feeders?" Richie heard himself ask from a thousand miles away.

  "Oh, you know. Some of our fair race has developed a taste for... Well, have you ever heard the term ‘Long Pig’?"

  "Cannibals," Richie said, his eyes switching to the men in the room, counting the odds quickly, finding them impossible without weapons, and then back to Bail.

  "You got it," Bail said grinning, "We don't share their appetites around here, I'm glad to say, but we still have to pay the piper. Can't have them picking off one of my boys whenever they get hungry."

  Buddy and Amanda were standing together, now. They weren't saying anything. They just watched, each of them realizing what was about to happen. Richie glanced at them as Bail began his count.

  "One," Bail said, "Hope you have someone in mind."

  Richie's watch ticked away at the seconds. Sweat was springing out on the nape of his neck. He was thinking hard and fast.

  "Two. Hard position you're in. I'm sorry it has to be this way. Really, I am," Bail said without meaning a word of it.

  Would they really let them go? If he had to leave someone behind could he live with himself? He knew who he'd have to choose.

  "Three," Bail said, "Choose."

  A plan formed in Richie's mind. It was rough and incomplete, but he didn't have time to consider the details. It would be more likely to work if he kept his strategy vague.

  "Amanda," he said, turning to her, seeing the shock at his betrayal in her eyes, "I'm so sorry."

  "Well, damn it all. You took my advice after all. Smart boy," Bail pronounced, motioning toward the woman with an open and empty hand.

  Amanda was restrained by the same two men that had been after Buddy. Elvis was let go and went to Buddy, helping him to stand. Richie continued to hold the same posture.

  He looked down into Bail's eyes. He heard Amanda screaming at him, telling him that she hoped he'd rot in hell, as the men pulled her away.

  "You boys go on, then. I'm a man of my word."

  The other men escorted Richie, Buddy, and Elvis out through the swinging door, one of them backing through first so there wouldn't be any unseen actions. Richie was out first, listening to Amanda's screams until they were at the front of the store where her voice would no longer reach.

  ***

  They were shoved into the night, the back door of the place slamming shut behind them before anyone spoke.

  "What's the plan, Richie?" Buddy asked, turning on him, "What are we doing?"

  "Why'd you leave Amanda, Richie? She's our friend," said Elvis putting Buddy's glasses into his hand. Richie hadn't seen him pick the things up, but he was glad Buddy would be able to see. He would be needed.

  “Didn’t have a choice. Come on.”

  Richie bent down, reaching out for the double barreled coach gun, before walking along the back wall and away from the door. Buddy hadn't noticed the absence of the coach until that moment and followed his friend with Elvis in tow.

  Richie rounded the corner of the building, walking as quickly as prudence would allow. He was almost sure of their next move, but didn't want to say anything until he knew what the front of the building looked like. At this point, he was the only one with a weapon and that made things much more problematic.

  As they neared the front of the place, Richie planted his back against the wall as he walked, making a small target of himself if anyone came around the corner. His coach was held at the ready. His friends emulated his posture and followed.

  At the edge of the building, Richie took a deep, calming breath before peeking around the corner. No one was there. He crouched down and motioned for Buddy and Elvis to do the same. They did.

  Richie saw that Buddy's frames were out of true on his nose and immediately dismissed the thought. That wasn't what he needed on his mind just now.

  "Okay. Shit," he began in a trembling voice, "How did you guys get caught?"

  "We got in through the window and were walking the aisle back to where we thought you'd be. Then they were all around us."

  "Okay, but where did they come from?" Richie asked.

  "I'm not sure," Buddy answered, spitting a gob of blood onto the ground in front of him.

  "The water." Elvis said.

  Both of them looked to Elvis expectantly.

  "They were carryin' water when they caught us," Elvis said, "So the water aisle's where they came from."

  "Good," Richie nodded, "That's where some of them will be, then. They probably hadn’t gotten the job done before they found you. The others will be back in the storeroom."

  "With Amanda," Buddy added.

  "Yeah."

  "So what do we do with this?" Buddy asked, flicking the barrel of Richie's gun with his middle finger.

  "We get you guys some weapons."

  Richie stood, again, and walked over to the broken storefront window. He knelt down to look inside, hesitated for a few seconds, and finally entered. Buddy and Elvis watched him. They looked back at each other, to make sure of their agreement, before following him through the break.

  ***

  Bail smiled, as he usually did, and strolled toward the woman. His steps were slow and sure. His hands were stretched out beside him as if he were offering an embrace. Amanda's eyes stayed on him. He was the only one she really needed to watch.

  The other men were smiling widely. They hadn't had a woman in quite a while and it would be a nice change of pace. Some of them would've never thought about taking a woman by force in the old world, but this wasn't the old world.

  They might have been accountants, or construction workers in a civilized time. Now they were a different kind of people, a rougher sort. Each of them looked to Bail for their next move.

  The man who had become their leader wasn't the biggest or strongest of them. He probably wasn't the smartest. What he was could be considered the most important type of person to have in any group.

  Bail was an animal that would bare teeth and use claws to survive. He would maim or kill at the drop of a hat if it meant living for one more day. His strength was a cold fist against the harsh heat of the day. His thoughts were that of a cornered beast who'd gotten out of the corner but hadn't forgotten it.

  They all feared him.

  "It's okay, honey," Bail reassured Amanda, "We aren't going to do anything you don't like."

  "Yeah? What do you think I'll like?" Amanda spat back.

  "My boys and I have some needs, sure, that we'd love to have you take care of. If you do, well, I might just think about finding someone else to trade to the feeders. Wouldn't that make you happy?"

  "I'll tell you what," Amanda offered with a suddenly sweet tone, "You bring anything near me, any little thing at all, and you won't be able to use it on anyone again."

  Bail's laughter bounced off of the walls, the sound deep and honest, as he took another step toward the woman. His eyes changed from a cold imitation of amusement to a real one.

  He looked around, again, at his flunkies, and continued his laughing fit even as he called out a name that she could barely recognize as a word.

  "The rest of you need to go on back to your chores," Bail commanded, "You'll get your turn after we get her ready."

  The men that Bail hadn't called upon exited the room with little argument but many grumbles. They hated the idea of being left out.

  "Now, sweet
heart," Bail said, "Why don't we just talk this over?"

  Amanda started to ball her fists, thought better of it, and shaped her fingers into claws. If they came for her they wouldn't walk away unscathed.

  One of the men stopped, just inside of the exit, and turned back toward them. Amanda noticed this, but Bail seemed in ignorance of it.

  "What do we do about the ones we let go?" he asked.

  "They have no weapons and they're running out of time before dawn. That means they'll look for shelter and weapons before they think about coming back here," Bail answered without turning, "They'll be dead by tomorrow night if they come back, but I highly doubt we'll be seeing them again."

  He smiled at Amanda wickedly and puckered his lips in a terrifying mimic of a kiss.

  ***

  Five men, Richie thought as he walked through the department store.

  His footsteps were almost silent against the background noise of a woman screaming to be left alone. Each vocalization made Richie's stomach turn. He hadn't had much of a choice in the matter, had to choose Amanda as the one to be left behind.

  Not only was he thinking about who he would need in order to get someone back from these people, but who he could bear to lose if the rescue failed? He could live with someone's death on his conscience if it was someone he barely knew, at least he thought he could, but he couldn't lose Buddy or Elvis. They were his brothers in this world and he couldn't be without them, wouldn't be able to go on.

  Richie was nearing the aisles where bottles of water would be stacked up to the ceiling when he heard male laughter. It was quiet and close by. He knew the others were behind him and would follow his lead, so he ducked into an aisle just before the one where the sound had originated.

  He got low, pacing slowly toward the sound of two men talking. They were so sure that the men they'd shoved outside didn't have weapons, that their guard was down.

  Richie braced himself before turning the corner to see the backs of the two men as they pulled large totes of water from the shelves. Richie saw that their guns, both pistols, were tucked into the back of their waistbands. That helped to make his next decision.

  Rather than firing his coach and alerting everyone to his presence, Richie un-cocked the hammers, flipped the gun in the air, caught it by the barrels and used it as a club on the back of both heads in quick succession. He'd managed to do this so fast that the two men hit the ground at nearly the same time.

  He pulled the pistols off of them and tapped the barrels together lightly. Buddy and Elvis came running as quietly as they could and took possession of the things. Richie took one more swing at the heads of the men he'd knocked out, making sure that they wouldn't be getting up again. A puddle of blood began to grow beneath them.

  Three left.

  The three friends walked away from their first two victims without a word.

  They followed the rear wall of the place, checking the spaces between aisles before crossing them.

  Amanda was still screaming. As much as Richie hated to hear them, her screams were a good sign. The sounds meant that she was alive. They searched for the next target.

  Buddy stopped just as he was about to cross the lane that Richie had just passed. He tapped his pistol barrel against the temple of his glasses once, making Richie turn back toward him.

  Buddy motioned toward the area between the two end caps by which they were standing. Richie had a look, noting that someone had just turned down the dark aisle and was staring at the shelves, looking back and forth as he walked toward them. His shoes squeaked on the tiles.

  The man was five feet away from them when Buddy pointed to himself and then their target. Richie nodded.

  A few seconds passed as the guy turned his body toward Richie's side and Buddy pounced on him, wrapping the forearm and biceps of his left arm around the guy's throat and bludgeoning his temple over and over with the butt of his pistol. It wasn't long before the man was on the floor and Buddy had returned to them with an extra pistol.

  Richie nodded again, thinking that Amanda would be needing it. Another man's blood covered Buddy's forearm, but he hardly noticed.

  Three down, Richie thought, Two to go.

  They huddled for a moment so that they could take stock of the situation. It had only been ten minutes from the time they'd been pushed out of the place. They were moving along well and getting really lucky, but the next step would be the hardest.

  Richie signaled to his friends as well as he could manage that there were only two left and that they were in the storeroom. They seemed to get the gist of his hand motions and game him twin "Okay" signs. He led them to the storeroom.

  Richie, Buddy, and Elvis were all very surprised at how easily they entered the storage area. No one had been watching the door. Neither of the two remaining men were even looking at the entrance. They were too busy trying to get a hold on Amanda, who was fighting and screaming as loudly as she possibly could.

  She'd finally backed herself into the corner and Bails was edging closer to her as the other man blocked her from their direction. Amanda's shirt was ripped and her right knee was pouring blood, but otherwise she looked unharmed.

  They crept up on the two would-be rapists, gaining ground quickly with Amanda's screaming to cover the noise they made, and were within a few feet of them when gunfire chewed into the body of the man that wasn't Bail. Buddy looked on as Elvis emptied his pistol into the guy.

  Richie had other matters to attend to, namely Bail. He was on the clean cut man the instant that Elvis had pulled the trigger the first time. He'd hit him in the face with his fists ten or twelve times before the gun clicked and the last casing hit the floor. When everything was quiet, including Amanda, Richie stood looking down at the beaten man. Amanda took the time to walk over and spit on him.

  That's five, Richie thought, That's all of them.

  "He called me a retard, Buddy," Elvis was saying about the dead man on the floor, "Don't like it when people say that."

  "He won't be saying it anymore," Buddy said, looking down at the wrecked body with wide eyes.

  "And he almost broke your glasses. Don't like him."

  "What do we do with this asshole?" Amanda asked Richie.

  "We make a decision," Richie shrugged before looking at Amanda, "I'm sorry we had to leave you. I hoped you knew what I was doing."

  "Not at first, but I figured it out. Thanks," she said without looking up from Bail's beaten form.

  Richie nodded. Elvis kicked the man he'd killed in the head once, for good measure, before he and Buddy joined them.

  "Pick him up," Richie told the other two men. He wished, in a way, that they would refuse. He wished that they would take the lead of the thing away from him. They didn't.

  Elvis grabbed an arm and began hauling the man up. After a moment, Buddy helped, looking at Richie in an intense way.

  He didn't care for it, but what could he do about it. He looked at both of his friends for a moment before speaking. It's like the fucking Lord of the Flies, isn't it? We're changing to fit the circumstances, Richie thought to himself.

  "We can tie him up and leave him here, but we can't leave until tomorrow. The sun will be up soon. If he gets loose, he'll come after us if we're still here. We can set him outside and lock the doors that lead downstairs, but you never know.

  “You guys remember what happens in all the movies and books when you leave loose ends. You know what happens when you talk to the bad guy for too long instead of just fucking putting a hole in his head.”

  The others were all watching him with growing anxiety, knowing what would come next.

  "I say we kill him before he wakes up," Richie finished, swallowing the taste of the words, wishing he could spit them out.

  Elvis thought for a moment. He nodded.

  They looked to Buddy, who looked back for a full minute before agreeing. He cleared his throat.

  Amanda took the gun from Richie's hand, her once delicate fingers making the weapon look m
uch larger than it really was. She aimed it at the center of Bail's face, and pulled the trigger twice, considered for a moment, then squeezed off one more shot, just to make sure.

  There was no ceremony. There were no real regrets. Elvis had a few small drops of blood on his face. He wiped them away with his shirt sleeve.

  Chapter 3

  They went about their chores as if nothing had happened. Buddy and Richie found and dragged all of the bodies they'd left in their wake to the front of the store, close to the windows where the sun could reach them. Sunrise was only an hour away when they finished.

  Elvis and Amanda were each working on a different aspect of food and water. Elvis was making the day's meal and gathering water as Amanda filled a large microwaveable bowl with dry beans and water, sealed the lid with duct tape, and piled bags of mulch over top of it just outside of the back entrance. By nightfall they would have well boiled beans. They would likely be mush, but everyone would eat them with pleasure.

  "Wish we could make a fire, some time," Elvis was fond of saying at least once a week.

  "You know we can't, kid," Buddy always replied, "Fire inside when you can't get out is dangerous."

  "Yeah," Elvis would say, simply, "But it'd be nice."

  Richie and Buddy were quiet as they carried the dead, working without saying anything about the task, but it was obvious that Buddy needed to talk about what had happened in the store room.

  He'd made the choice right with the rest of them, but Richie could read the guilt written all over his face. Neither of them was ready to broach the subject until after they'd left Bail's ruined body at the front of the place. They both looked down at the man for a long moment, both being well past disgust at the sight of gore. It was common to them, now, and didn't have much effect.

  "Are we the same as him?" Buddy asked as they walked away from the pile of dead bodies.

  "We're surviving," Richie said in answer.

  "So were they."

  "They were catching people and giving them over to a bunch of cannibals to save their own skin. That's not the same as what we do."