The Dark Trilogy 02 - Into the Dark

by Patrick D'orazio

  No one else seemed to understand the level of control you had over another person when you forced them to willfully inflict pain on you. Michael beat her because she willed him to do it. He did not want to, but she did. Now, only after a few weeks, he couldn’t stop himself. And because of all the guilt and trauma that it caused inside his head, she was able to manipulate him in other ways. Michael was a good little puppet.

  But that weasel, Marcus, had mentioned how Megan had slapped Michael when they first met. That was something she could not tolerate. Cindy knew the stupid bitch had no idea what a slap meant to Michael, the meaning attached to such a violent physical act, but she bet that if Megan had been looking deep into his eyes at the time her hand crossed his face she would have realized what it had done to him. The fact that he had to let off some steam by putting a knife to Frank’s throat right after that confirmed how excited Megan had made him. Cindy had corrupted Michael enough that the violence was the only thing that really turned him on any more.

  There was no doubt in Cindy’s mind that her boyfriend was already fantasizing about that pathetic tramp. But tackling that subject head on wasn’t going to give her any answers she wanted, so instead, Cindy knew to come at it sideways.

  “Okay, so forget about Megan. What are you going to do to put these newcomers in their place?”

  Michael rolled over to face Cindy. There was weakly hidden guilt tracing his features from the latest assault he had perpetrated on her. It was always there, no matter how well he tried to hide it. It made Cindy smile inside, though she was careful not to show it. The guilt was a tease. Everything forbidden had guilt associated with it. Guilt was one of the strongest stimulants there was in the world. As long as it kept showing up on his face, that meant whatever caused that guilt was still tantalizing and forbidden. It was simply too much to for him to resist.

  “What do you mean?”

  He was tired and past getting angry or aroused anymore that night. In other words, he was getting boring. But it also meant that his defenses were down and she could easily get him to divulge the truth and perhaps even agree to do something she really wanted just to get her off his back.

  “I mean, you dragged them in here and treated them like your best buddies. Then you brought Jeff in the RV and had a nice little chat with him. Now I hear that you and the rest of the guys are going into town tomorrow on some sort of supply run. What the hell is the point of that?”

  Michael closed his eyes and put his hand over them in hopes of blotting out all traces of light trickling through their window.

  “So you’re asking what the hell I have planned.” He paused. She did not respond and he sighed heavily. “Well my dear, that is very simple. I am going to test their loyalty to me and see if they can obey orders like good little soldiers.”

  “Loyalty? From people you kidnapped off the fucking road? Are you nuts?”

  Michael opened his eyes and glared at Cindy. “I must be if I’m with your psycho ass.” She gave him a finger and he ignored it. He propped a pillow up beneath him and put his hands behind his head. “It shouldn’t be too difficult, actually. The only one that will be a problem is Jeff. He is too damn smart for his own good.”

  “What about George? Doesn’t he miss his ‘widdle famawy’? He looks like he could tear your head off if he was motivated enough. If you make him stay here against his will sooner or later he is going to try.”

  Michael smiled at his girlfriend. “Quite the contrary. He is going to be a good little boy and do just as I tell him to.”

  “How do you propose getting that to happen?”

  “Nothing too technical. I’ll just hold Megan and Jason hostage. Once Jeff messes up and I have to deal with him, George will realize that he is the only one that can protect them. A few well-placed words here and there along with a few delicate hints and he will decide for himself that staying is the best possible idea. Momma and the kiddies are dead already and sooner or later he will realize that. And then, he will come to love it here with us. He’ll be just another big, dumb, malleable grunt like Ben.”

  “If Ben heard you say that he would twist you into a pretzel.”

  “Indeed. He might just do that. If he knew I said it. But that is how things work around here. The pawns do not realize what they are. I am the king and I control the board. They are expendable pieces, but valuable. I move them into harm’s way as I see fit. If there is a rogue piece, I simply get rid of it, sacrifice it to my opponent, and keep on moving.”

  Cindy looked over at her man and saw a look on his face that was reminiscent of the cat after eating the canary. He was just too damn self-satisfied. But she decided to let it go. He had his little plans and she had hers. She knew a little bit about chess as well and while the king was the piece that ruled the board, the queen was the one who took care of business.

  That Jason brat should be enough leverage to keep George in line. He doesn’t need Megan as well.

  With their conversation finished, Michael drifted off to sleep. Cindy stayed awake a while longer, shaping and reshaping her own plans so that they merged and fit with her lover’s. She smiled down at him as she did so. He was a beautiful man, nearly perfect on the outside. But it was his insides, his guts, which were getting black and ugly. She had initiated the process, but it had taken hold and was flourishing without constant nurturing anymore.

  She laid her finger on his jugular vein and felt it pulse. She moved her mouth close and gently flicked her tongue out at it, like a snake. It would be so easy. She grazed her teeth against it and Michael stirred, but sleep already had him in its grasp. It was tantalizing: the idea of wrecking everything with one simple effort. She could tear out his throat and even slip out the window with very little fuss and muss. All they would discover was his bloodied carcass and the signs that she was responsible for his death all over the bed. But they would never find her.

  As tempting as it was, she knew that Michael was far more exciting alive than dead; powerful and yet powerless at the same time. She had weakened him. Before they met he was probably a good man with a penchant for anger now and again. He could hide it then and he still could now, but that façade was chipping away. The violence was bubbling to the surface more often and more readily. It was wondrous to behold.

  She shivered in the bed next to him. Whether in excitement or fear, it was hard to tell. She laid back and planned the death of Megan LeValley. It would be a simple thing, not too complicated. It couldn’t be blatant though. The others could never know what really happened. She imagined the pain and agony Megan would experience when she did it. But what would be the kicker was when Cindy got to tell Michael what she had done and the supreme pleasure she would get out of watching him react.

  A few minutes later, Cindy wrapped her arms and legs around her man like a spider and fell asleep, content in knowing how things were going to play out over the next few days.

  Michael and Cindy

  Part II

  This interaction takes place immediately after Michael’s confrontation with Jeff and George, but before they head into town on their supply run, once again back in Michael and Cindy’s RV.

  “What a bunch of pathetic wussies. They make me sick.”

  “Tsk, tsk, dear. Such harsh language.”

  Cindy shifted her gaze from the curtain and focused on Michael sitting at the table reassembling the M16 he’d decided to clean yet again before going on the hunt.

  “Ya know, you keep rubbing that gun like that and you’ll go blind.” She slinked over to him, her body lithe and sinewy. She was a predator, a jungle cat on the prowl. She treated most men, including Michael, like prey. They were either food or they were sex, nothing more. That was why when most men caught Cindy’s attention they usually did their best to divert their eyes and look away. They seemed to know that to her they were just meat, pure and simple.

  “And if you keep wishing such ill will on others you won’t get into heaven.”

  Cindy almost laugh
ed, but instead continued creeping up on her boyfriend. Michael was definitely sex to her, but also food. She craved him like meat, like a meal that could never completely sate her hunger, so she had to continue to hunt and devour him, over and over again. She slithered to the floor and moved her hand over his combat boot, sliding it underneath his camouflaged pants. Blocked at the bend in the knee, her hand hovered just below it scratching at his calf with her ragged fingernails.

  Michael ignored Cindy as he finished reassembling the weapon. After a second he admired his work and nodded in satisfaction. He was getting more proficient at taking care of the rifle. He’d searched around and managed to find a manual covering the how-to’s of field stripping and maintaining it in a bookstore he’d come across during the group’s travels.

  As much as he had every intention of keeping it operational, the fact that he’d acquired only two thirty round clips with it, one of which was only partially full, meant that he had very little desire to use the M16. It was more a symbol of his authority than anything.

  He’d squeezed off a few rounds in automatic mode a while back, just to convince himself that it did indeed work and when the time came he could put it to use. Other than that all he did was keep it clean and ready to go. There would be time to acquire more rounds. After all, there had to be tons of munitions lying around these days, and finding more would just be a matter of venturing into an area where soldiers had been stationed that wasn’t currently overrun by the undead. Until then, the rifle would continue to serve its purpose as his staff of office.

  He grinned, flashing back to how he had acquired it. It had been a shame, a real shame, that the soldier had been unwilling to surrender the weapon. The boy had been brave, but he was injured, and in a bit of a jam. He had required a bit of extreme persuasion, as Michael liked to think of it, to finally relinquish his rifle and sidearm. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all…

  Michael’s daydream was shattered by the sensation of sharp fingernails digging into his lower leg and a warm trickle of blood running down his calf.

  Cindy was looking up at him, her head leaning against his leg. Michael glanced at her, but despite the pain she was inflicting, he continued smiling at the M16. Yes, it had taken quite a bit to get the damn thing, but it had been worth it.

  “If you don’t ravage me soon, I am going to take that thing away from you and use it to get off.”

  “Well that would be something to see. It’d be even better if you let me pull the trigger while you did it.”

  Michael caught Cindy’s fist before it could connect with his crotch. He had no doubt that she would have hit him so hard he wouldn’t be able to stand up straight for a week. He twisted her wrist until she gasped in pain. As usual, it sounded more like a moan of pleasure coming from her lips.

  He gritted his teeth as she dug the nails even deeper into the meat of his lower leg. Michael knew no matter how much he twisted Cindy’s wrist, she would keep digging, even if he went so far as to snap the slender bones in her arm. It was a tempting proposition, but with no doctors around he couldn’t take things that far. Still, the idea of putting the certifiably insane girl out of commission for a while was tempting.

  Standing abruptly, Michael flung her arm away with a sharp kick of his leg. Before she could react he brought his knee up and slammed it against Cindy’s chest, forcing her to the ground.

  Gasping for air, her eyes widened in surprise. When she was able to breathe again, a knowing smiled appeared on Cindy’s lips.

  “Maybe now I’ll finally get some attention.”

  Michael glared down at her, angry again. After what had happened outside with George and Jeff, he needed an outlet for the rage building up inside of him. How convenient for him that Cindy was always available, willing to scratch any itch he might have.

  * * *

  Perhaps what had happened outside should be considered a moral victory. At least on the surface, it appeared that way. Everyone had been watching Jeff becoming flustered when he couldn’t persuade Michael to let Jason stay in the camp. He’d been forced to demand that the boy be left behind when they went into town, which would have ended very badly for Jeff if he had remained obstinate. That is, if George hadn’t butted in.

  The final result, though unexpected, was a pleasant surprise. George had committed to staying with them, which wasn’t what Michael had expected to get out of him. Not in a million years, and certainly not voluntarily. The deal George offered was one Michael was more than willing to make.

  The plan had been to dress down Jeff, make him sweat a bit, and make it abundantly clear who was in charge so there wouldn’t be any more opportunities for them to butt heads. Jeff would know his place and would be content from then on in following orders. Backing him into a corner should have been easy, with just a little bit of help from his friends. Megan was never going to allow Jason to leave the camp and it was Jeff’s duty to enforce her wishes. In the end, Jeff was backed into a corner, but George’s little outburst had pulled his bacon out of the fire.

  Looking back on the spat was amusing. Michael could care less about whether or not Jason went with them. When the conversation first started even Frank had questioned the value of having a twelve year old going out with them, but even someone as dense as that fat hick was able to pick up on what Michael was trying to do after a few minutes and kept his big yap shut, except to tease George and Megan.

  Jason was just another pawn to Michael. It appeared that Jeff was really the only other person who picked up on that little detail. Perhaps George and Megan had suspected, but they let their emotions get in the way, which was exactly what Michael had hoped for. The kid liked Michael, and that made him pretty damn easy to manipulate. Since none of the adult newcomers seemed to have much fondness for the camp’s leader, resorting to using the kid was the natural choice for sorting things out and clearing the air as to who was in charge.

  Jason would be useful again later on. He was probably mad at everyone at the moment, including Michael, but he would get over it. Kids were resilient like that. All it would take would be a few more gentle reminders that he had to stand on his own two feet and needed to act like a man. He couldn’t allow the adults in the group to coddle him like a little baby anymore. With a few well-placed words, Jason would ditch the others entirely and be as loyal to Michael as Frank and Marcus.

  Jason’s destiny was to drive a wedge between Megan and the two other men. The subject of the boy would be a hot topic amongst them from now on and sooner or later they would not see eye to eye on how to deal with the rebellious preteen. When they began to argue, it would be easy to chip away at their loyalty to one another. In time, one of them would decide they were better off offering up their loyalties to Michael, who was the one providing them with shelter and food, rather than the other two troublemakers, who were just stirring up shit and doing little else that was productive. It was just a matter of letting them fall apart on their own, with a few well-placed nudges, of course.

  It would all work out, but there was still something that bothered Michael. Something about what had happened outside that tasted foul on his tongue—like fruit that had started to ferment a little too quickly. Something was not right.

  George had shown some backbone, which was far more than Michael thought the dumb bastard was capable of. George was supposed to be some miserable wimp pining away for his family, so it came as a big surprise when he agreed to stay at the camp to avoid putting Jason in any sort of danger. Even more surprising were the threats he’d uttered. Michael had to admit that it had unnerved him, not because George was so big and scary—Michael had taken down bigger foes in the past. Instead, it was what he had seen in the big man’s eyes: there was no bluffing there. George had every intention of killing Michael if he continued pushing him.

  Despite that, there was a simple answer to the George dilemma: he would have to be watched and watched carefully. The old man would fly the coop if he was certain the boy was saf
e and secure here and the opportunity to escape presented itself. But more important than making sure he stayed put was getting him to behave. That might require poking and prodding him into a fight. It would give Michael a chance to break the old man down and sap his will to rebel just a little bit. And if that did not work, more drastic measures might be in order.

  But as much as George might end up being a headache, he would be easy to deal with, a minor nuisance at most. George was not the one bothering him. Jeff was.

  Michael had seen his type before: the reluctant leader. Jeff did not crave power, at least not in the form of authority over others. He was the type that preferred staying behind the scenes, doing his own thing, and would only step up when he was forced to. He wasn’t fearless, but like so many other people, he had probably lost everything and figured he didn’t have any real reasons left to be afraid anymore.

  So the trick, as Michael saw it, was to give Jeff a few reasons to be afraid once again.

  Jason had told Michael a bit about the group. About how he and George had spent most of their time stuck in some church, and then all the excitement that had occurred over the past couple of days, ever since Jeff and Megan had shown up in their minivan. Michael had gotten a few juicy tidbits from the stories the boy had told, enough to use against Jeff and George when they’d argued earlier, but he needed more information on the newcomers. Lydia was the one who’d spent the most amount of time with Megan and Jeff since they’d gotten here. Michael would need to have a long discussion with her about what they’d shared with her after they returned from the supply run. If anyone in the camp was non-threatening enough to open up to, it was Lydia. She was good at keeping secrets, but with a little sweet talk there was no doubt she would reveal things to Michael about her new friends.

  Getting to know Jeff better would allow Michael to know what made him tick. There was no doubt he’d lost his family over the past few weeks. The thousand-yard stare confirmed that much. And when he’d stood up for himself outside, and given the ultimatum about Jason staying inside the camp… well, that had been a bit of surprise.