by Ben Archer
“Monsters” I shamefully finish. I’m left completely speechless except for that one single word. She’s dying inside and for the first time, I’m speechless.
My heart splits open as the uncomfortable seconds fly by. Even though I’m probably the least qualified person to give advice on loving yourself, since I’m a professional pessimist with a self-defeatist attitude to match, she needs some reassurance right now. She craves to hear the sun will come up tomorrow and life will go on.
"You know how you’re gonna keep going? With me.”
I clinch her bloody hands in mine. “I won’t tell you this is a great way of life. Good people are not meant to live this way. You’re not supposed to have to constantly fight back the devil telling you to do evil things. But the one thing I can promise is that you’ll never have to go through it alone. I’ll be with you every single step of the way.
Together we can be the broken things.
When my family was taken, I had no one. Lost in a world that wanted nothing to do with me anymore. Well, eventually, that pain twisted into the worst kind of self-loathing. I hated myself for being so cowardly. I hated myself so much that I honestly didn’t believe I should ever be happy again. How could I be? I didn’t deserve to be happy when I couldn’t even save my own family! That’s the kind of permanent shame that will always stay on me. Even when I see them on the other side, that disgrace will still be mine.
So that’s why I’ve removed myself from the entire world and everyone in it. The last time I even remember feeling anything was during the war. It gave me purpose, you know? Who you fight for, who you fight with, defines you. And now everything we fought for ─ died for─ is going to be for absolutely nothing! The war is going to begin all over again and those mongrels will be unstoppable behind the pure blood.
Think about it, every monarch has two things in common:
1) They believe their life is far more valuable than yours.
2) They have something to unite people behind. A symbol or cause to bond everyone together.
Think about it that way and Shepherd is the tip of a wave that threatens to drown us all. That’s why we have to take advantage of our chance to stop it before it can even begin! We can take their symbol and use him for good. As an added bonus, we’ll get to make those assholes pay for what they did to you. I know this is hard to believe right now, but what you are, your monster, can be used for good. That devil inside will let you accomplish some fairly amazing things if you let it. They won’t always be pretty. Honestly, we’ll probably do some terrible things along the way; vicious, cruel, and ugly things, but sometimes the world doesn’t need another hero. Sometimes it needs a monster."
Was it a Patton worthy speech? No, but hopefully the sincerity trickling down my cheeks will convince her that her anxiety is a shared one. My rare display of vulnerability does succeed in wiping most of the hopelessness from her face. We get to sit in comfortable silence to let our tears fade away naturally. Well, mostly comfortable, since bloody ooze is still dripping off the cheap plastic paneling around us.
After a few minutes, there’s a simple nod to signal she’s ready to begin the lengthy clean-up. I waste no time in pulling out every roll of soft-as-gravel toilet paper. Her skin is easy enough to clean, it actually looks better than when she came in. Life has returned to her sunken cheeks and hallow eyes. Our biggest problem seems to be that her cotton dress has become a sponge of incriminating stains. She already had a few, but this is soooooooooo much more than a couple spots.
Covering them with my jacket hides most of the really nasty bits. The bottom still has some splatter, and there’s one extra-large spot over her hip, but overall it should work. Hopefully no one will notice if we rush back to our seats quick enough. So what do we do with the pruned corpse? As unappealing as it is, my teeth ache looking at it. I still haven’t eaten anything more than a raccoon in days, and my monster is getting impatient. Like it or not, he needs to eat.
I ask Quinn to turn away. Partly for her good, mostly from my own embarrassment. Then I drain every last drop left in the withered body. There’s not much left, just enough to make the shame worth it. The fresh blood does help take the edge off though. Rational thoughts are definitely coming a lot easier now. Like, since no one has checked on the missing lady, there's a good chance she’s traveling alone. Maybe there’s still a chance we could ride this one out? We can jam the door closed, but the body definitely can’t stay. The smell alone would give us away. It seems getting rid of it will be our only real option.
Realistically though, given the cramped room, that’s pretty limited too. There seems to be one possible direction she can go, and this will definitely not be one of my finest moments. I throw open the roof vent and measure it with my forearm. It's not wide enough to fit her, yet, so a few sections will have to be banana peeled back. I stop to re-measure after each new slice until I’m confident she will fit through. Then I say a prayer of thanks and tack on an apology for what’s getting ready to happen.
Lifting the body isn’t much of a problem, she only weighs about 60lbs now. And my measurements were so accurate that the upper body slides through without even touching the sides. Then, once the waist is out, the wind does the rest.
The strong vacuum easily pulls her the rest of the way out. Everything is going perfectly until one shoelace catches a jagged edge of the peeled roof, then all that quiet, cautious work is rendered completely useless. The withered body starts banging off the top of the bus like a damn bongo drum!
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I scramble around the small room for several seconds with no actual goal in mind; just a wild panic and desire for the gut-churning noise to stop! The wind continues picking up the anchored body and slamming it back down every few seconds! Each new collision makes our cramped room explode with the ringing sound of thunder! They must be echoing across the entire bus and alerting everyone here! They detonate seven or eight more times before I manage to wrangle the stuck foot free! Even then, of course, it bounces a few more times on the way down the roof.
Like I said, shit.
I slip out of the hole and mentally prepare for the rush of people coming through the door. It’s not that they scare me, I mean most of them can barely walk, but hurting them is the last thing I want to do. Maybe it would be possible to push our way off the bus? Although that’s not ideal either, they could easily break a hip or something.
Although the whole train of thought seems to be for nothing, not a single person ever charges through the flimsy door. There’s not even a casual knock of concern to check on the sound of several bombs exploding in the toilet. No one seems to care about all the obvious destruction going on in this small room. Even so, I allow a few extra minutes of caution before getting back to Quinn.
When I find her, she’s buried so far in the corner the paneling bends around her like a bubble. "It's finished." I reassure her (and myself) with a confident voice and outstretched hand. She's shaken to the core, but still breathing. Right now that's all we can ask for.
Where do we go from here? Quinn’s still covered in blood, I played a furious drum solo on the roof, and we’ll have to find a way back to our seats eventually. Well, since no grand ideas come to mind, let’s just open the door and see where it goes!
Could we fight our way of here? Yes.
Do I want to? No.
I straighten my windblown hair one last time before facing the jury outside. I carefully position Quinn so we won’t have to open the door any wider than we have to. We’ll butter up and squeeze out of here if it means no one’s going to be able to see around us.
Funny enough, opening the door carefully actually takes great effort! I have to inch it along to keep it from spilling all the way open. When I turn my attention back to the bus, I notice the curious folks in the back are staring right at us!
And the next row.
Then the next.
And the next.
It quickly becomes apparent that eve
ry eye is firmly locked on us. The entire bus remains glued to our every move while whispering to each other. Do they know what happened? Since they’re smiling, probably not. That would be a very weird response to murder. So what is this then?!?!
Quinn remains in the bathroom just in case we need to exit out the vent too. I try forcing a smile to hide my shock and confusion. Although, only half my mouth lifts so it comes out looking more like an awkward family photo.
The anxious tide shifts by catching a couple of their muted conversations. "Oh she must be feeling better!" snickers one couple. "The color has certainly returned to her cheeks!" observes another. "I swear, kids these days will do it any ol’ where!" protests one dusty old crow.
They think we were screwing in the bathroom?
WHAT!?!?
Our imaginary fling even causes one couple to reminisce their glory days of doing it on a plane ride to Denver. That conversation paints the unkind picture of the two dirty, wrinkled fools joining the mile high club. It’s mentally damaging, but far better than the truth. I turn to Quinn and give my best "go with it" smile. If sex will explain all the disturbing noises, we’re going to play right along!
I’m suddenly inspired to release more fake chuckles, along with a big sloppy cheek kiss for good measure. Anything to help paint the picture of two horny kids who just can’t keep their hands off each other. It probably helps that we already have the very authentic red-faced appearance of a truly embarrassed couple. A firm smack on the ass only adds to the over-the-top theatrics. It also distracts everyone while I break off the bathroom door handle, then shove it back through the wall like a makeshift nail. I give it a few gentle tugs to check how well it might holdup over the next few stressful days. It doesn’t budge, so hopefully it will hold long enough to get us off this bus.
I turn back to boldly proclaim, “We were just so happy she’s feeling better!” Another solid ass slap gets cheers from some, eye rolls from others, but none suspect us of anything more than boning in the bathroom. Quinn’s eyes are two perfect round circles during the entire thing. She was already speechless, this just drives her further down that silent hole.
On the walk of shame we get cat calls, congratulations, and several high fives before reaching our seats. "After you dear." I continue playing the role while methodically positioning her bloody dress away from the crowd. I don’t take a real genuine breath until she’s made it all the way into the protective seat.
Once everyone has gone back to their business, I ask the still trembling Quinn, "You alright tiger?” She’s stuck upright with her head frozen straight ahead; glaring at the seat in front as if she were gonna set it on fire. “If it's any consolation that's the way I would want to go. You know, out the roof of a speeding bus." As soon as I say it, I regret it. Even I know it was too far. It’s the rotten result of a sluggish mind and blazingly fast mouth. I try smiling, but it comes out as one of those, “What can I say, I’m a dick” expressions.
Suddenly, Rita swoops in to save me from my purgatory of discomfort, "Care for a soda?"
"Bless you Rita, I would love one!”
"Thought so. I bet you're exhausted." she says with a noticeable grin. Nice to know she's like me, a real asshole.
Chapter 23: Lucky
The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, for what feels like an eternity. I don’t even believe the clock when it says it’s only been twenty hours since the bathroom incident. This entire time has been spent with one eye on the broken door, and one for anyone giving me a strange look. Constantly going back and forth keeps me a fuzzy ball of fraying nerves. I carefully study every face for some hint of being onto us. Call me crazy, but our only punishment so far has been a guilty conscience and having to stop at every rest area along the way.
I eventually force myself to sleep just to break up the maddening routine. Sadly, the naps never last long because of the aforementioned pee breaks. The entire group has to slowly shuffle off and on the bus every twentyish minutes. Quinn hasn’t said a word or even looked at me yet. She’s remained glued to the window, lost in her own world. That leaves me with nothing to do except drift in and out of the frustrating slumber for hours. By the time Rita shakes me awake, I barely know where I’m at. She mumbles something, although it’s not until Quinn repeats, “we’ve pulled into the terminal” that I actually comprehend what’s happening.
The slow moving mind isn’t a real problem since we obviously won’t be going anywhere for a while. Although we have absolutely no baggage, nothing except restless legs, they do, and they’re in no rush to get them. So I use the extra time to show Quinn the grandeur of the Vegas skyway. Resting just outside is the ship that will take us up to the cities. Maybe I should explain that Las Vegas has changed a bit too…
Vampires had a serious numbers problem at the beginning of the war. While they were far more powerful than humans, there simply wasn’t enough of them. Like, not even close. The vampire plague was a wildfire spreading across the globe, and yet they were still outnumbered 500 to 1. So they solved their complex problem with a pretty simple solution; simply dismantle the entire infrastructure of the country.
Their destructive plan was to isolate us from each other, completely dismantle the government, and remove any form of organization we ever had. That plan would keep us fighting on a local level, and it worked pretty damn well.
We became victims of our technological dependence. Electromagnetic pulses (EMPs) took out all digital communications, as well as most air and ground transportation. Anything with a computer became an expensive paperweight. This effectively separated everyone into small geographic areas, breaking the global war down into thousands of tiny wars, each with their own ending. That’s why we have separate colonies now. Some battles were won by humans… most were not. And once we were broken, there was no going back.
The United States were gone.
Only the Colonies remained.
Their next step was to cut off food supplies. That meant systematically destroying every major dam and levee used for irrigation. Dwindling food supplies brought starvation and further divided an already brittle population. People began killing over a single loaf of bread. That’s also when vampires started trading food for loyalty and all hell broke loose. It was win-win for them since they had no need for actual food.
Lights were the next to go. That kept us fighting in the dark so they could come in the night to wipe us out. Even after they stopped, humans couldn’t sleep anymore. They feared the boogeyman (or mongrel) that might be hiding in the shadows. Our side was divided, paranoid, starving, and losing fast.
Las Vegas enters the story when the hydroelectric plants were destroyed. After the Hoover dam was destroyed, Vegas withered up like an old prune. Without water, it quickly reverted back to the barren wasteland Mother Nature always intended it to be. Nothing was left except ghosts, goblins, and empty buildings buried in the sand.
Long story short, after the war some entrepreneurial types wanted to rebuild, but the old city was too far gone to bring back. So, in true Vegas style, they went straight up two and a half miles! From down here all you can see are the huge pillars supporting the massive new city. Those things stretch all the way from sand to sky! The only trace of the city itself is from the massive round shadow it casts down on the clouds.
Of course none of this stopped Vegas from becoming the epicenter of decadence and glamour it always was. I went many years ago, and though my memory of that trip is fuzzy at best, I remember the layout pretty well. You start down here at the gigantic column supporting the main strip. Think of it like a really, really tall table. Everyone lives and plays on the top, and right now we’re at the bottom looking up. Over the years three more floating cities have been built around the original. Each one is a different size and meant for a different audience. Some are for entertainment, while others are only for the hardcore gamblers.
One of the unique things about the Vegas cities are their total la
ck of roads. For a place known for their "strip" these new ones are built without any streets at all. Instead, there are massive tracks on the underside of the tabletop that carry suspended trams, shuttles, and individual cabs. Some of the best ones have glass floors to let you see all the way back down to the ground. Think of it like a subway without walls. Plus they’re the only way in and out of the city.
Now, of course, as long as you play by their rules, there will be no rules. It’s the only city where you have to pass a credit check before being allowed in.
Ironically, when new Vegas was constructed, it brought the old one back in a very unexpected way. The new cities act as umbrellas to partially shield the desert from the unforgiving heat. That’s made the original into something of an oasis for any stray desert dwellers and mutants looking for a place to live. I’ve never been there, but it must be pretty bad because they’ve had to relocate the loading docks several times to avoid the creatures living there.
So that’s where we’re at now, looking at the arched gateway that will mark the beginning of our long climb. Honestly, it has to be seen to be believed. While every other bus stop in the world is a simple old boring terminal, a modest utilitarian object to get the job done, that’s not how you would ever describe this place. Simply put, it’s grand.
And it’s not just one specific thing that makes it so awesomely incredible, it’s the entire package. At first you’re drawn in by the flashing lights leading up to the arch. Mind you, this isn't some standard half circle buried in the ground either.
This beast of architecture begins with long, curvy golden walls gradually rising out of the ground. From here it resembles two flowing trees merged in the center. The curve of the arch is fluid like the broad shoulders of a slumped over giant. It climaxes in a massive hanging ship they call a shuttle, but because of its titanic size, should only be called a ship. Maybe I shouldn’t use the word “Titanic” since I’m getting ready to get on board… Anyhow, its engines are already humming on the triple beam track above.