No Room In Hell (Book 2): 400 Miles To Graceland
Page 11
Metal cattle panels line the inside of a horse stall to prevent any escape. Naked and bruised, the dirt-stained woman scampers into the far corner as Kale opens the door. Bare skin grips her ribs. She cowers in the fetal position, prepared to be assaulted again.
“I’m here to keep you from further harm.” He drops his tone to one of being pleasant and friendly.
Her eyes blankly stare at the light from the door.
“Which is true. I don’t see violence as a viable solution, but it can be necessary to quickly obtain what information one wants.”
She twists away from him. Covering her back are bandages crusted with dried blood.
“What I will say is, don’t make me use violence to achieve what I want.” Kale smells the stale sex forced upon her. He contemplates this woman might respond to a bath or other methods including cleaning wounds festering with infection.
Kaleb blocks the doorway as he eats from an MRE package.
No matter what kind of government training she had, Lindsey no longer has the control she once did. Her eyes glare at only the food pouch.
Kale contemplates from the smells; no one has bothered to clean the stall in days or logically feed her either. How desperate for food will she be?
“Lindsey? That is your name, correct?” Kale snaps his fingers in her face. “Focus on me.”
Her mouth salivates with the last bit of hydration she can produce.
“I can’t do anything to make up for all the pain inflicted upon you, but if you cooperate, I can promise no one else will hurt you.” He adds, “I am nothing like my brothers.”
Lindsey’s eyes reveal how unconvinced she is by his words.
“For sure. You even fucked a girl, bro.” Kaleb munches on his MRE.
Kale waves for Kaleb to step closer so he can snatch the MRE bag. “Why don’t you eat?” He holds out the pouch as far as his arm will stretch toward Lindsey. “I’ll see if I can find some of the girls to come clean you up. And then we’ll talk.”
She grabs it, but he refuses to let go.
“I know you’re starving, but eat slow or it will make you sick.”
AMIE SLIPS FROM under the cover, replacing Ethan’s warmth against her with the morning chill. It perks her nipples, giving a false impression of arousal. As she reaches for her t-shirt, Emily steps in, food tray in hand. Broth steams in a bowl.
“What the fuck?” Emily demands.
“He’s asleep. Lower your voice.” Amie hops on one foot to reach her crutches. She scans the floor for her missing shirt.
“He’s in no condition for you to…” Emily fights everything inside her not to throw the food tray or smash it against the floor. Her pale skin flushes red.
“He’s a man. If he is breathing—he’s capable.”
Amie tosses her shirt out the door past Emily before taking the quivering food tray from Emily’s hands before she drops it. She places it on the table and backs the teen out the door with her naked chest as a buffer. Closing the door behind her, she uses the end of a crutch to flip the shirt into her hand. “It’s not what you think.”
“If it quacks—”
“I just wanted to sleep next to someone. Maybe you haven’t experienced the desire to hold someone, but I needed some contact. There was no sex. He never woke up.” Amie doesn’t want to explain Ethan’s night terrors. Later, she must inform the doctor.
“Everyone thinks I’m too young to understand. I get you’re a lying whore. You said…I trusted you.”
“Keep your voice down. You’ll disturb Dartagnan.”
“It’s okay to upset me. I held vigil over him when they brought him back. I took care of him. You moved in like some scabby bush monkey and stole him from me.”
Scabby bush monkey? Amie’s never heard such an insult before. I’ll skip being offended until I know what one is.
Emily almost laughs. “I was reading about monkeys to David, the new boy. I don’t know where—”
“I get you’re upset. I didn’t take advantage of Ethan in his present condition. I don’t think I could have even if I had wanted to,” Amie lies. Even beaten to near death with no damage to his manhood, he was maintaining a full salute and she could have done all the work.
“You’re trying to take him from me.”
Amie holds in an eye roll. The last issue Amie wants to deal with is the frustrations of a teenage girl.
“He doesn’t want either of us. He wasn’t awake to know I was even there.”
“Maybe he just doesn’t want you.”
“He turned you down too, twice. You said so.” Amie gives in to her nature and fences with Emily.
“He’s just waiting until I’m older. I don’t want you to ruin him.”
“He’s a man. And if he was half as charismatic before the apocalypse as he is now then more than one women ruined him long before you were born.”
“He’s not that old.” Soured by the age factor, the fight drains from Emily.
“You need to feed him. I need to make a report.”
“I’m sure you’ll leave out you rubbed your titties all over him.” Emily marches from the room. Before she reaches the stairs, she kicks the military duffle bag stations outside the second bedroom door. She pushes it open. The bed sports fresh sheets. Amie would not be allowed to just take the room as all beds are assigned.
Emily wishes she had been given the room next to Ethan. With Amie close to him on a daily basis when he is in camp, she might steal him away with her ample bosom. She runs her hand across her own chest. Maybe she has the build of a teen boy, but no one would live for him like she would.
Dartagnan pushes between the two women as if they are not even there. “Wrong time to be in the kitchen. You two should not be in the kitchen. I need brown. Did Ethan bring me brown paint?”
Amie slips her hand into the outside pocket on her BDUs. She was able to get most of the blood out and next she needs to sew the torn pant leg. “He brought you this.” She holds out a model paint vial.
Dartagnan snatches it. He examines it as if it were a newborn baby. “Green. I’ve got green. I need brown.”
Amie shifts into her commanding mother voice. “What do you say, Dartagnan?” The Latina scold in her tone makes the boy jump.
“Thank you, Miss Amie.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Please, can I see the new fences they are building,” Dartagnan pleads.
“I’ll take you in a little while,” she says.
Dartagnan scampers off to his replica of the compound.
“See, you’ll need me to watch Ethan if you drive Dartagnan around,” Emily says.
“You could take him,” Amie suggests.
“I never got a license, and you handle Dartagnan almost as good as me. Better than I’ve even seen Ethan.”
“He was raised only by his mother. Wanikiya said be harsh or he won’t listen. But even if Mom was harsh, her tone would show how much she loved him.”
Emily whispers, “How did you know about the paint?”
“Ethan always brings back model paint for him to use on his recreation of the compound. Only he doesn’t always find more paint every time he goes out. Wanikiya gave me a few vials from a hidden stash to help me appease Dartagnan.”
“They say Dartagnan’s calculations keep us fed,” Emily says.
“I’ve heard. He keeps it all in his head.”
“He just thinks numbers.”
“I can’t make you leave, but you should report back to your job,” Amie says.
“I had to stretch my legs for a minute and I’m going right back up there. Don’t worry, I won’t eat any of the food. I haven’t earned since I’m not working.”
“You just don’t know how long he will be out.” Amie stuffs a bundle of bed sheets into the washer. “You shouldn’t try so hard.”
“What are you talking about?” Emily sniffs the freshly dried clothes before she folds them.
“Trying to give yourself to Ethan.”
“You’re not a jilted school girl anymore, but yet you don’t have the experience to read men.”
“Is this where you dispense advice like in a badly written Romcom?”
“It’s not that you don’t arouse him, but something in his real brain holds him back.” Amie fishes for an answer as to what caused Ethan’s night terror. He spent days with Emily outside the fence. He may have mentioned something. Emily would never tell her under direct examination.
“He doesn’t want to defile a fifteen-year-old.”
“Noble, makes him desirable in itself, but there’s something else. He could have his pick of women in this camp. He’s saved most of them. I’m sure there is a line of women who would thank him with their favors, but he pushes them all back. He has put together a safe zone that has amenities. We couldn’t keep hot water on the military base. Even with that and the duties of governing us, he still journeys outside.”
“He wants to save people. Find people to make us stronger.”
“At first he could find the people he needed to run the camp. Now it’s just any survivors. Picking and choosing has reached an impasse if the community is to grow. Anyone can go outside and gather people. Why does he have to keep going out there?”
“You’ve strayed from your original question of why he won’t sleep with either one of us.” Emily enjoys the jab. Even if Amie had crawled in next to him just as comfort, she could have left her shirt on.
Amie knows the barb was meant to hurt. She propositioned her new commanding officer and had been rejected. “Now both answers are the same. Whatever pushes him to go out there keeps him from picking a mate in here.”
“You’re callous. You don’t know Ethan.”
“I know since he doesn’t desire us there are still other options in Acheron. You with your budding breasts and willingness to open your legs can have a choice of men in this compound. Those kids you eat lunch with, those boys want you. Why not have a go with them?” Amie asks
“I don’t like them.”
“Why not? Why do you want a man approaching the age of your father?”
“I don’t know.”
“Nature. If for no other reason. Your body wants the best provider and strongest DNA to be passed on to any offspring you produce. He has by far proven himself to be the alpha male in this camp. The major reason why so many women want him.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I studied this, and I know my own desires. In times of disaster, women have natural urges to want to reproduce. That’s why so many babies were born nine months after the Haitian earthquake. Biology demands the rebuilding of the species and nature wants us to do it with the best possible DNA,” Amie explains.
“Even if that’s correct, it doesn’t explain why he chooses to turn down every woman in the compound.”
“Maybe he likes men,” Amie wonders. “It would explain his over macho-ness.”
“No.”
“Maybe he can’t perform anymore.” Amie knows that is a lie.
“No. I’ve known that’s not true.” Emily remembers that night she offered herself to him after her first shower in this farmhouse. She wanted Ethan so badly she wettened until it ran down her legs and he swelled fully. How he controlled himself she’ll never understand.
“Then he’s protecting himself,” Amie says.
“From what?”
“Everyone who survives has lost most everyone they care about. Some people have had to do unspeakable actions to endure. Maybe he had to kill someone who he loved and can’t stand the thought of having to do it again. Those feelings could overpower a man’s desires to deflower a pretty girl.”
“Well, a Hispanic hoochie mama isn’t to his liking either.”
LEVIN SLIPS FROM his bed. Hot needles puncture his side. The wound requires more days of rest to heal. Danziger’s presence in the camp means he’s lost his advantage over these peasants. Better to put his plan in motion now and lead them toward his wisdom later. He fishes under the mattress for the paperclip he hid. The bent metal will allow him to free his left hand from the handcuffs.
He waits until they ship the man named Clay out of the other bed. Whoever decided curtains provided a wall of privacy was a moron. They kept Clay two days to make sure he didn’t die from his fall. He was banged up but not as bad as all the scrapes made him appear. And they seemed to make constant inspections of him when he slept. Levin wonders if Kayla did the same to him while he slept. When he sleeps.
The guards roaming patrols of the school-turned-community-building lack any formal structure or regulated pattern. Perhaps planned, but most likely unregulated guards never having any formal security training.
Levin moves quickly not knowing if the guards could return in five minutes or five hours. Creeping in the hall, he flattens around a darkened corner allowing him to witness the guards round up some people sneaking off to fuck. They wrangle then return them toward the gym allowing him to reach the kitchen. He jiggles the handle—locked. Levin races back to his room. Now with patients in the hospital ward they keep a watchful eye on it but don’t bother to lock the door.
Logic dictates he should just sneak in and kill Danziger before the man decides he must tell these people about his past actions. Danziger’s cuts could cause a fatal infection. The former cop’s unwise in not revealing how Levin kills. Wanting to murder Levin personally is foolish. He doubts these people would bat an eye, and since he’s not a part of their community yet, they might just banish the detective. They seem big on threatening banishment.
Maybe Danziger’s presence works to his advantage. He has one use while breathing. Danziger tracked in order to kill him and fuck him bloody.
Levin shivers at that thought. I may kill and pleasure young girls, but I’m no homo.
No homo.
It takes Levin a second to pounce. Kayla might have reached her gun had she expected the attack from a living patient. Or the gun wasn’t around her ankle. The gun clinks on the floor. Levin kicks it out of her reach as he wraps his arm around her throat.
She won’t go down without a struggle. Kayla puts all her strength into an elbow thrust strong enough to tear open his cut.
The air rushes from Levin, but he keeps her entangled, driving her to the floor.
The elbow impact hurt and had she placed it on the other side of his chest he’d be near death. But in the confusion, she struck the unwounded side of his body. As he cuts off her air he drives a scalpel blade into her neck. Blood squirts. As the fight slips from Kayla he slides a bucket from under the bed. He catches as much of her blood as possible.
The assault should have excited him, but this woman—too old for his taste—did nothing to arouse him. She’s key to his plan.
The classroom next to this has been transformed into offices and a more useful medical supply storage. He knows the medications are secured. Antibiotics and other meds will keep many people alive. The poor souls who need insulin or kidney drugs have long since become the demon at the gates. He uses Kayla’s keys to open the locked cabinets. They should post a guard over the meds besides just securing them. They are valuable. These people have established a society and they must feel safer knowing there are meds when they need them. He wonders how they will feel when they are all gone.
If he could control his urge. He knows how to make a basic penicillin. An antibiotic would make him a rich man in this world. Rich how? Money’s no good, and they won’t trade one life of teen girl for him to enjoy. Or would they? If I healed them would make me their leader.
Everything is labeled and charted on a clipboard. In a drawer, he discovers his luckiest find. He scoops up the gun from the drawer. Its breach open, he can see it has a place for a dart—tranquilizers.
“YOU BELIEVE THAT bitch?” snarls Kaleb. “Just kill her. One less mouth you’re worried about feeding.”<
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“She’s not from the area. All these back roads appear the same to anyone not familiar with them.” Kale spreads a highway map across the kitchen table. “We’re down here in Dent County. I think you should take a crew into Rolla.”
“You…think I should, little brother.” Kaleb’s head throbs. His body transitions into hangover mode.
“When these inebriated meth-heads wake, you must whip them into shape before we completely run out of supplies. Kade led supply runs. People respect leaders who aren’t afraid to jump into the trenches. You want them to follow you the way they did Kade, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah. So, I lead a group into Rolla.”
“Go to the courthouse and in the assessor’s office there should be a giant county map. I need it, so we can track our search patterns. We will clean every farm and small town for supplies.”
“Why not just start here?”
“Phelps County had a larger population, theoretically there will be more supplies to gather. A lot of those people were evacuated in the first days to Fort Wood and left their homes intact.”
A light bulb clicks for Kaleb. “We should send a team to the military base. See what’s left.”
“Good idea.” Kale placates his brother. “Most of the area was picked over by those fleeing the base after the soldiers scuttled it. But some supplies may have survived.”
Kaleb smiles. His smarter, younger brother likes his idea.
“We need seed. Corn, and not hybrid corn. We need to plant a crop even if it’s getting too late for a full fall harvest.”
“We going to need copper pipe for a still.”
“We’re going to need corn to eat and feed cattle.” Kale quickly realizes he could be overstepping his authority. “And some whiskey.”
Kaleb grins.
“But we can’t make it through winter on liquor alone.”
“Winter’s seven months from now.”