“How convenient,” he said.
“What’s convenient?” Ann asked.
“Ah, I’ve just been trying to find something good out of all this.”
She looked at him with a quizzical, challenging look on her face.
“I don’t know if you would appreciate my conclusion.”
“Try me, just for the hell of it,” she said with her head cocked and a scowl on her face.
“Well, I used to think this town was so boring. You remember, nothing natural. All the blocks rectangular, the streets all straight, flat, all the trees planted in straight lines. You remember what I always thought. Nothing wild or beautiful like the mountains or desert. What the place needed was a little jazzing up.” Tim swept his arm around. “Nothing boring about it now, huh?”
“How can you think like that?” Ann asked astonished. “Aren’t you scared? Jesus, Tim, I’ve always known you were a little off the beam, but I hope you don’t consider this fun?”
“Got to look forward, not back.”
“The future looks real bright. You’re right, as usual,” she said with a sneer.
“At least there is a future,” Tim countered quickly. “You and I have been somewhat lucky, don’t you think?”
Ann put her head on her knees and looked straight ahead. “I guess.” She looked back at Tim. “Are you really looking ahead, or just can’t handle looking back?”
“I don’t know? I mean, I suppose I should be really affected. No, that’s not the word. Uhhmm, traumatized? Yeah, traumatized is the right one. . . but if I—”
“Affected? Traumatized? What are those words supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know, like I should be crying or something, and um. . .I don’t know, just some kind of mourning or something like that, I guess. I mean, my ah, uh, my mother. My mother just died.” Tim wrapped his arms around himself and sighed. “Just a little while ago, my mother died.” Tim sighed again and was silent for a few moments. “I’ve known her all my life and now she’s gone. For as long as I live, she’ll never be there again.”
“You should cry. You’ve got every right,” said Ann.
“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know.”
“Well, I think that you have a lot to be sad about.”
“Well, sad is okay, but anything more? There wouldn’t really be any purpose to it. Mom’s dead and that’s that! She was killed in an earthquake.” Tim knew the empty pill bottle would forever be his secret. Maybe that was why he was able to handle her death so calmly. She had been in such misery here and now she was someplace else.
“I feel so bad for you, you don’t know,” said Ann.
“Save your sympathy because there’s a lot of people that are going to need it more. It’s one hell of a mess, and I think the worst is still to come.”
“Phew, if you’re right, I hate to think about it.”
*
It was late in the afternoon when Tim and Ann—with the help of her father and two brothers—had brought his mother’s body to an emergency aid station. The military had been quick to establish such places. The earthquake was centered in the valley, and damage outside was minimal. Surprisingly, the great bureaucracy of the government was beginning to handle the situation. Every possible man and machine was converging on the area.
Because of the number of the dead and for health reasons, the burial system was as follows: The family and friends were notified by loudspeaker as to the time of the removal of the deceased, the corpse was tagged with a number, and the location of the burial would be supplied later, then a chaplain said a short speech for each helicopter load, about twenty bodies. As each helicopter lifted off, a group of people would salute its departure with wails and sobs. The group would then disperse and make room for the next one. The magnitude of the disaster had left people with only enough strength to mourn those close to them.
As the ship carrying his mother grew small in the sky, Tim felt a strange power flow through him. He was now a survivor, one that was left to carry on.
*
Tim made his way back to his house to collect his things. He was going with Ann and her family to live with some of their relatives. There was no hurry, though, because the authorities said it would be at least four days before they could open any roads to the point of travel.
Tim stood in his bedroom doorway, surveying the damage and trying to decide what to take. His belongings weren’t in good shape. His inexpensive stereo was worth even less now. His bedroom door had come off its hinges and had made him the proud owner of two speakers and nothing else. The guitar, which he had never mastered like he had vowed to, was sticking out from under his desk, the neck broken. It was for the best, though, because when he had decided to learn to play it, there had been numerous threats on his life.
At least now the music from the guitar would be as good as from the stereo. The dream had come true, He chuckled when he thought about it.
His golf clubs were jammed between his bed and the wall. He pulled the bed back and removed them. Half of them were broken. “No loss there,” he said to himself. “They’ve pissed me off for the last time. Touché!”
In the center of the room, Tim had hung a mobile that Ann made for him. She made it with no special pattern or objects. “It’s just balanced out,” she had explained. It had a mummified lizard, an unused condom, a small, empty picture frame with, “My only true friend,” inscribed on the bottom, and numerous other silly objects. The lowest level of the mobile had a collection of braided loops of yarn. Caught in the loops, at the proper angle to simulate flight, was his F-14 model.
That damn thing survives no matter what. For the first time since Arty was hurt, I have no urge to smash it. Too much has happened to worry about things past. Besides, Arty was just in the wrong F-14. What happened to him was no fault of this little plane. He left it where it was and turned away.
He returned to the living room and pulled the couch over to the large window and sat down. The sun had dropped behind the mountains to the West and soon it would be dark. He had been awake for more than a day, and this was the first time he had taken a breather. He laid his head back to rest awhile.
Tim was numbed by the quake. In the past few hours, he had witnessed the complete destruction of his home, of his town. Many of the people he had known were dead or missing. He had carried his mother’s body to be buried in a place not of her choosing. He had listened to a tribute to her, meant for convenience, and then had said goodbye with turbines screaming and dust flying. He was full of confusion and grief. The hectic day had taken its toll on the young man, and deep sleep captured him quickly.
Chapter 3
Tony & Cyclops
Something wet crossing his face woke Tim up. The first thing he was aware of was it had gotten dark. He felt for his light and switched it on. The wetness had come from Deputy Dog licking his face. The dog was sitting a foot from his head, looking straight at him.
“Hey, buddy, glad to see you,” he said softly. He didn’t want to scare the dog off. The Deputy was never one for physical contact. “Man, I’m glad to see you made it boy. Glad to see you made it.”
Tim looked at his watch. He had been asleep for hours, and it wouldn’t be long before the sun came up. He had promised Ann that he would come right back. She would certainly be worried by now, so he jumped up and began collecting his things. He packed an assortment of clothes in his large camping bag. He got his portable radio and all the extra batteries. Then he filled his mountain pack with as much canned and dry food as it would take. He went to his mother’s room to get the money stashed there, along with the bank books and the folder with all their records. He carefully placed the picture of his mom, Arty, and himself in his smaller pack. In the nightstand next to her bed, he ran across the pistol she kept there. Without thinking much about it, he slipped it into the small backpack. The Deputy stayed right at his side.
Out in the garage their van had been bounced around, but other than some scratches, was
okay. The Quad-racer was upside down. The gas had run out, but it was also okay.
Quads spend plenty of time upside down, but you can always drive them away.
The Deputy was pawing at something in the corner, and Tim went over to see what it was. It turned out to be his pellet rifle. He was really loaded down already and didn’t see any need for it. He turned to walk away, but the Deputy grabbed his pant leg and tried to pull him back. The dog had been shadowing him constantly, and now this strange behavior?
The quake must have really shook him up, but it doesn’t make any sense. The other dogs were now acting like nothing had happened.
Tim had to pull away from the Deputy to get out of the garage. The dog was barking and growling, and going constantly back to the pellet rifle. Tim walked away from the garage, and the dog finally gave up and followed.
Tim walked into the backyard and looked toward the Walls. It was still dark, and now there was no doubt about it, someone was in the canyon. It wasn’t completely discernible, but there was a light coming from the Walls.
Maybe a campfire? But the light has a strange blue shade to it, a sort of neon quality. A neon light in that canyon doesn’t make much sense, though. Any people in the canyon now don’t make much sense either. All the food, water, medical attention, and shelter are the other way. The trip up there must have been one hell of a risky one too, with all the tremors. He shuddered when he thought about being in the Walls during the quake.
The Deputy started to growl. At first, Tim couldn’t figure out why, but then he heard voices approaching from around the house behind his.
Some of the neighbors coming back for their stuff, no doubt, just like I have.
A light was coming around the corner of the house, and Deputy was growling louder now.
“Hush, damn it,” said Tim.
The light moved past the house, and Tim saw two figures behind the beam, moving toward him. They closed the distance to him and suddenly he recognized them. It was a man who lived with his sister a few blocks over, and Tony, one of the town punks.
Tony was the resident bully, but a couple of months ago he picked on the wrong person. Since his drubbing, he had been quiet and less threatening, but as he spoke to Tim now, the old menacing tone was back.
“Hey, Tim, old buddy, how’s your mom?” Tony’s laugh was sinister. “I hope the earthquake didn’t spill all her booze. It’s been tough getting to the liquor store lately.”
“Timmy, what’cha got there?” the other man asked.
Oh man, this guy is scary. I can’t remember his name, but the neighborhood kids call him Cyclops. He came toward Tim with a large knife gleaming in his hand. Behind Cyclops, Tony came carrying a long gun. Tim’s mouth went dry. Deputy Dog was growling. The hair on the dog’s back was standing up. It would do him no good to run because the pack on his back was too heavy, and the man would be on him before he could get it off. Cyclops walked up to him and stuck the knife up into Tim’s face. The look in his eyes and the sneer on his mouth warned of danger.
“Tony,” the man said, half turning back, but not taking his eyes off Tim, “you say this kid’s mom is a lush? I sure could use a drink.” He turned back toward Tim and moved his face closer, the smell of liquor and bad breath was strong. “Now, kid, which one is your house? I think I’ll take a look. Is your old lady there? Maybe I’ll say hello.”
The man put his free hand down to his crotch and chuckled. He then leaned closer to Tim. “Look, kid, I’m not going to ask you again. Your house?”
Tim turned slightly and pointed straight back to the wrecked house, and the man pushed past him. Tim’s eyes went to Tony. The gun Tony carried was a shotgun. No question about that because Tim was looking straight into the barrel.
“Hey, Timmy, how come you’re not laughing at me now, huh?” mocked Tony. “You sure laughed when that asshole friend of yours got the best of me.” The volume of Tony’s voice rose. “All you little creeps thought it was great, didn’t you?” Tony shouted. “Didn’t you?” Tony shouted even louder.
“I—” Tim tried to respond.
“Shut your fucking mouth!” screamed Tony. “I took care of that big-shot friend of yours, and that smart-ass girlfriend of yours is mine now too.”
“She’s with her parents,” stated Tim.
“Bullshit, Timmy, she’s my toy now,” he bragged. “Things are different now. All the asshole cops and do-gooders are gone. I’m the head motherfucker now!” Tony’s laugh bordered on insanity.
Cyclops returned with two bottles of whiskey—one was half-gone already. He gave the bottle to Tony, who took a big swig and shuddered.
“Hey, take a belt, Timmy, old buddy.” Tony’s rage had dissipated. “Hey, come on, this shit will help your attitude. Times are tough, and they aren’t going to get any better, especially for you.”
Both men broke out laughing.
“Come on, Timmy, have that drink. This’ll be your last chance,” Tony said, as he moved closer to Tim, which caused Deputy Dog to emit a deep, menacing growl. Tony quickly shifted the aim of the shotgun from Tim to the dog and fired. The blast and the muzzle flash stunned Tim. Before he could regain his senses, Cyclops grabbed him in a headlock and stuck the knife against his throat.
“Hey, man, look at this damn dog!” shouted Tony.
Cyclops held Tim in the headlock and dragged him to where Tony was shouting.
“What the hell?” exclaimed Cyclops. “Holy shit, Tony! What the fuck kind of dog is that?”
Tim struggled to see what had Cyclops so excited, but the man held him tight.
“I don’t believe it! A dog with a metal leg,” said Tony. “I wonder whose—”
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Cyclops.
“Oh, what the fuck is your problem man? It can’t hurt you,” returned Tony.
“I don’t like it, okay. It ain’t fucking right.” Cyclops was getting increasingly excited. “I don’t like it,” he repeated louder.
“Hey, settle down! I’ve heard about this kind of shit before,” said Tony.
“Where?”
“On TV, man, on the tube. It’s like they make robots or some shit,” said Tony, proud of his answer.
“Oh great, man, fucking robots! Let’s get the hell away from here,” pleaded Cyclops.
“No, man, not a whole robot. Like if someone loses an arm or something, and they put a mechanical one back. That’s what this dog’s got. I’ll bet you,” said Tony.
“I don’t like it. I saw a movie about machine animals that couldn’t be killed or nothing. I think we should scram, man.” Cyclops was obviously upset and was gulping down whiskey. No matter how hard Tim tried, he could not see the dog.
“Well, this one’s dead, and it can’t hurt you, you damn sissy,” Tony shouted.
“Hey, fuck you! I still say it ain’t fuckin’ right, man. Look, it isn’t even bleeding. What if it wakes up or something?” Cyclops asked.
“Want to see blood? I’ll make sure it doesn’t ever wake up, chicken-shit,” Tony laughed, and another blast from the shotgun shook the air. Tim was still in the grip like vise and could only see straight ahead.
Suddenly, Tony came rushing into his view. Cyclops shone his light on Tony’s face. It was white, and his eyes were wide open and scared. “Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Tony shouted, as he began to run toward the house in front of him.
“I told you, Tony. Man, didn’t I fucking tell you something was fucking weird?” exclaimed Cyclops.
“Shut up, asshole! It was just a movie,” snarled Tony, but he was scared. Tim could hear it in his voice.
“That’s no fucking movie, Tony. That fuckin’ dog is the real thing. Shit, man, I saw it, Tony. With my own fuckin’ eyes, I saw it,” continued Cyclops.
“Hey, shut the fuck up! Just drop it, okay?” shouted Tony over his shoulder. “It’s getting light, and I don’t want anyone to find my prizes.”
*
They walked for about a half-hour, and
the sun was just above the horizon. Cyclops brought up the dog a couple of times, but Tony didn’t want to discuss it. They led Tim to an old building that was located behind a date and orange grove. Tim never went back there before because it had been a religious cult, and had always been heavily guarded.
As they neared the door to the building, Tim heard what sounded like crying or moaning. Tony shoved him through the door and sent him sprawling to the floor. It was still dark in the room, and as he looked up, he was aware of some people sitting and lying against the opposite wall. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized they were women, and they were all naked. They were bound together with ropes around their necks, and their hands and feet were tied.
Suddenly, Tony pulled Tim’s head back by his hair, stretching his neck. Tony leaned his knee into Tim’s backpack, holding his body down against the floor.
“Are you a virgin, Timmy?” he asked in a calm voice. “How would you like one of my women? Hey, I know how to pick them. My women never say no. When I want to get my rocks off, they’re always willing.” Tony was obviously enjoying himself.
“How about your girlfriend, Timmy? Does she ever turn you down, or has she even let you? I’ll bet she just teases you, huh?” Tony shook his head, mocking concern.
“You poor sap! You’ve got to know how to treat them, Timmy boy.” His tone changed quickly, now threatening. “Make them obey! I’ll bet your girlfriend wouldn’t turn me down. Hey, Tim, what’cha think? Hey, buddy, come on, what do you think?”
Tony shouted, “Do you think she would say yes?”
He pulled harder on Tim’s hair. Tim thought his scalp was going to tear. He was shaking and almost in tears.
“Please, Tony! What do you want? I’ve never done anything to you. Please, it hurts!”
“You’re goddamn right it hurts, and it’s going to hurt a hell of a lot more. Now answer my question.” Tony continued to pull on Tim’s hair. “Do you think your girlfriend would let me fuck her?” Tony was screaming insanely. “Answer me, goddamn it!”
Tim’s neck was stretched so far that he could only emit a choking sob. Tony suddenly released him and his head fell to the floor with a thud.
Timtown Page 3