Reckoning by Mark Tufo


  “Don’t be long.”

  “Don’t worry. Go!” Deb gave Beth one final shove as she headed for the storm shelter. “Oh God! I hope I’m doing the right thing,” she said to no one in particular.

  ***

  Jimmy and Gary sauntered up to the front door as if they owned the place. And for all intents and purposes, right now, they did. Gary ripped open the screen door and, for dramatic effect, he kicked open the front door like all those “Cops” shows he used to watch before the aliens cut off the power.

  “Lucy! I’m home!” Gary said in his best Desi Arnaz impersonation. Beth heard Gary and Jimmy enter but she found no humor in his impersonation. It was laced with malice and she, too, pictured Jack Nicholson peering through the bathroom door in “The Shining.” She shuddered as she drew her legs up to her chest.

  “Where are you, bitch?” Gary asked.

  Beth had stayed near the opening in the hope that when Deb returned, she could open the door quickly. She regretted that decision now. She desperately wanted to retreat into the vast shadows that the attic offered, but she feared any telltale noise now.

  ***

  “Jimmy, stay here by the front door, and keep an eye on the back door, I’m going to check the basement.”

  “Hey G, you’re gonna let me have one of those little puntas, aren’t you?”

  “Aw, come on, man, you know I’d never leave you out of the loop. You can have the other bitch; I want Deb. Hell, you can have Deb when I’m through with her. That is, if there’s anything left.”

  “Oh, hell no, Vato. I don’t want your sloppy seconds, I’ll take the other one.” Jimmy grabbed the front of his pants again. He loved this new world. Having never been a looker or a talker, for that matter, Jimmy always had to rely solely on buying his sex. The way things were now though, he had all that he could handle and then some. Yep, he just took what he wanted whether it was food or women; it made no never-mind to him. He was growing excited at the prospect of their new find.

  “Snap out of it, Jimmy. Leave your pecker alone for five minutes and you’ll have the real thing soon enough!” Gary snapped. Perspiration was running down his face, but it wasn’t from the chase, it was for the upcoming kill. Gary hated to admit it, he was as excited as Jimmy.

  ***

  Beth shivered as she heard Gary in what sounded like the basement. His voice was muffled but she could still hear him yelling and throwing things around.

  “Come out, bitches! We won’t hurt you; we just want to talk. No, that’s a lie. We don’t want to talk; we want to hurt you.” Then he laughed that same crazed, maniacal laugh that Beth had heard so many times before when she was on the ship. It amazed her how quickly the worst in humans could be triggered with stress. She could hear Jimmy laughing along with Gary but his laugh was a lot closer, and not moving, she thought.

  ***

  “The fucking cunts aren’t down here, Jimmy. Anything up there?”

  “No, Vato. Hurry up! My pecker’s gonna bust loose soon.” That started another round of laughter. Beth was frozen in fear. She desperately wanted to shuffle her way back but fear gripped her harder than she had ever felt it before. She could hear Gary’s heavy footfalls on the basement steps. Gary came up to the main level, and she could hear him overturning tables and smashing windows and whatever little knickknacks Mrs. Carody had accumulated over the years.

  “Fuckin’ bitches are going to pay for making me go through all this work!”

  “Yeah G; they’re going to FUCKING pay.” Gary, not being the brightest bulb, still got the pun his friend, Jimmy made.

  “Good one, you fuck!”

  “No man, we both fuck,” Jimmy shouted as he put his hands out in front of his hips and did a pelvic thrust.

  “You’re on fire!” Gary said as Jimmy laughed and headed upstairs.

  ***

  “He’s coming upstairs,” Beth moaned, hoping it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

  ***

  “Hi, Deb. I’ve dreamed of seeing your room. And now, here I am and it’s gonna be just the two of us,” Gary sneered.

  Did Deb not make it back up here in time? Did she hide in her room? I’ve got to help her. What am I going to do? Beth thought, quaking in fear. She braced herself to leave the attic and make a run at Gary, when she realized he hadn’t seen Deb; he was just trying to bait her.

  “Come on, Deb. If you and your little friend come out right now, I promise we won’t fuck you up too bad,” Gary yelled. Beth could tell his tone was getting more dangerous. Rape, at this point, might be the least of their worries. “Get the fuck out here, you little cunts!!!” he screamed. Beth yelped but she didn’t think he heard it over his rant.

  “You need any help up there, Vato?” Jimmy yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

  “No, you greaser. Now get back to the front door. If they slip out the back while you’re at the stairs, I’ll fucking cut your throat!!”

  “Alright, man; calm down.”

  “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!!”

  “Fucker’s loco,” Jimmy mumbled to himself; but he went back to the front door like Gary ordered. Meanwhile, Gary ripped through Deb’s room, smashing her track trophies and ripping up all the pictures of her friends and her through the years of high school and college.

  “What? No fucking pictures of me, you little bitch? Who’s this guy?” Gary asked as he picked up a picture of Mike that Deb had gotten from his sister, Lyn. “This dude your boyfriend? He looks like a pussy to me. Where is he now? Probably fucking dead. But don’t worry; I’m here now, I’ll take care of you.” Beth could hear Gary walking around in the upstairs hallway. Sweat was pouring off of her.

  Gary walked into the master bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks as a huge grin spread over his face. He was looking down when he noticed the little piece of pink fluff. Not a big deal in itself, but when a piece of insulation is directly under an attic trap, it usually means that it’s been accessed recently, and nobody leaves that itchy crap just lying around.

  “Got you now, bitches,” Gary said to himself. He reached up to grab hold of the dangling string and was slowly beginning to put pressure on it. Beth watched in horror from her end as the slackness in the string tightened and daylight started to ooze in. Tears began to form in her eyes. Doom was merely a few feet away and she could do nothing except watch, as if from afar. Light went from a pencil line to a fingers width to… A huge crash and yell shut her back into complete darkness.

  What was that? It was the first thought that she and Gary shared in common since the whole little scene began to play out. The noise and the sudden darkness threw her into a complete panic again. This time, there was a reaction, she wet herself. She wasn’t proud of it, but right now, she didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  ***

  Deb had raced to the storm shelter and shut the door behind her just as her pursuers ventured into her neighbor’s yard. Gary and the other guy smashed through the front door to her home. Deb could hear Gary yelling and he scared the hell out of her. She had more than once been tempted to just hide where she was. But after he was through searching the house, and doing whatever to Beth, he would most surely come down here. And then what? He would finish off what he had started five years ago.

  “Screw that!” Deb thought as she steeled herself. She grabbed her father’s hand axe off the pegboard of tools he had been so proud of. “Dad, I love you,” she muttered as she peeked through the shelter door. She half feared that Gary would be outside waiting for her to pop her head out, like an unsuspecting rabbit. Adrenaline and fear raced through her body as she realized that her worst fears had come true. Her face flushed, she dropped the axe and prepared for the worst.

  Only the worst hadn’t come, unless of course fence posts were going on the rampage these days too. She would have laughed but she was afraid she just might keep laughing and there she’d be, waiting for Gary, with drool coming out of her mouth because she had finally witnessed one too many crazy
things.

  She reached down blindly and picked up the axe. She didn’t want to take her eyes off the house for a second. By the time she had completely removed herself from the shelter, she could hear Gary tearing up the main floor, smashing everything. Her heart panged as she remembered her mother picking up little souvenirs from a dozen little wherever's. Tacky, little tourist-trap mementos that she just had to have. And her father shaking his head, as if to say, “Don’t you have enough of these things?”

  “Yeah,” she would reply, “but not from here.” Then they would laugh and hug like only truly happily married couples can. Could, she thought bitterly. Deb wanted to sprint for the front door but feared that she might trip over her own feet, so she inched her way closer to the house. She got so close, she could hear Gary walking up the stairs to the second floor. Where was the other one? She thought.

  She crept closer to the front door when she saw the back of the other one’s head. His hair was all matted down with dirt and grease; just the sight of the back of the guy’s head disgusted her. She was contemplating what to do when he moved away from the door.

  Where’s he going? Deb’s grip on the axe was tenuous at best, and her sweat kept making the handle slide down her hands. Deb was about to peek through the door when she heard Jimmy’s footsteps fast approaching. She ducked her head back around the door she didn’t think she was quite fast enough. What would she do if he came out and confronted her? She figured she’d probably just drop the axe and run, screaming into the street like a crazy woman.

  He never looked out the door; her luck was holding for the present. Now what? Doubt racked her body. She had never killed before. Of course, that didn’t include the aliens since they weren’t human. But here was a true, red-blooded, breathing, living human. Sure, he meant to physically harm her, that still didn’t stop the queasiness in her gut. There he was, with his back to the door; didn’t he know she was there? Couldn’t he hear her heart thumping? Was he just setting her up? Get her in close, then finish her off? Why is it so quiet in the house?

  Suddenly, terror spread across Deb’s face. Gary must have found Beth; that could be the only reason for stopping his tirade. Right now, he could be ripping her clothes off, that asshole! She screamed in her head. Anger swelled, adrenaline took over and Deb squared herself to the door, smashing right through the screened plate glass window and right into Jimmy’s head. It hadn’t been the killing blow she had hoped for. The axe began to slip out of her hands on the downward arc.

  Jimmy wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon but he was still alive. He started to turn around when he heard Deb’s cry, his lack of response to the attack had cost him. Glass lay all around his body and the axe was lodged over his left cheek bone, just below his eye. He had turned suddenly, though not quickly enough to fend off the blow. Blood spewed from the wound. He tried in desperation to pull the foreign object out, but, for some reason, his hands weren’t working properly.

  He alternated between glaring at Deb with his one good eye and attempting to focus on the protruding axe. He struggled to scream, shock was rapidly beginning to take over his nervous system. Deb began to leave the porch. She could hear Gary racing down the stairs, it did little to keep her from evacuating what little she had for lunch that day. She wanted to run, but all fight and flight had been drained from her body. Jimmy’s wrecked eye had frozen her in her tracks.

  ***

  “What the fuck is going?…” Gary had reached the bottom stairs when he noticed his friend lying in an ever-widening pool of his own blood. Now it was Gary’s turn to be scared. Bullies don’t do well when faced with more might than their own. Was Deb’s boyfriend here? Hell, was there more than one? Gary was bolting halfway out the back door when he noticed Deb at the bottom of the front steps, dry heaving. His evil grin reappeared. “Ah, the bitch got in a lucky strike. Well, that won’t happen with me,” he whispered.

  “Hi Deb,” he said in his most jovial manner, as if they had been best friends for years. He stepped over the outstretched arms of his friend.

  “G! Help me! The frickin’ bitch got me.” The blood was beginning to fill Jimmy’s lungs and his words were beginning to slur.

  “Jimmy, you look like shit; you’re dead anyway,” he said as he made sure not to step in any of his spilled blood. Jimmy laid back down, realizing the inevitable. Deb turned to Gary; her face was an ashen gray, her shirt riddled with vomit. And both of her knees were quaking.

  “Geez, Deb, you’ve looked better. I expected you to be happier to see me than this. You almost look as bad as Jimmy.” Deb looked over Gary’s shoulder to shudder again. It had somehow been a little easier, before she knew his name.

  “Well, maybe not quite as bad, but you will when I’m through with you. I was going to take you back so everybody could have a piece of you, but I want to be the last person you do. What can I say? I’m selfish like that.”

  Gary walked down the four steps to Deb and put his arm around her shoulder like lovers sometimes do, before delivering a blow into her stomach that dropped her to her unstable knees. While she was down, he smashed her in the nose. She was on the verge of blacking out. When she awoke, would it still be Prom Night and would her parents still be alive? It wouldn’t be such a high price to pay if that were the truth. She could feel Gary literally shredding her pants off her body, but she could do no more than whisper her protests.

  “Did you say something, Hon? I’m sorry I couldn’t quite hear you. You’re moaning so loud, it’s difficult to hear anything else.” Gary was beginning to breathe heavy. He had never been able to perform quite right unless some form of violence was involved, and this was the ultimate high for him. So it was lucky for all concerned that he didn’t hear the wet “pop” sound as Beth pulled the axe out of Jimmy’s face. Nor did he hear her as she crunched over the shattered glass. Gary was just about to enter Deb when recognition dawned on Deb’s face.

  “Beth?” she creaked.

  “It’s not Beth, you little whore, it’s me, Gary.” You recall that Gary wasn’t the brightest bulb on the block. By the time he realized that Deb was looking over his shoulder, it was too late. Gary turned to the right and the axe lodged into the right side of his face, just above the cheek. Beth’s grip had been much more solid than Deb’s.

  The thwack of the axe and the splintering of the check bone launched his right eye completely out of his skull. Death for the bastard would, unfortunately, be swift. Beth held on to the axe as Gary fell over to the side and she didn’t let it go until she was sure he wasn’t moving. She rolled his dead mass off Deb’s body. Deb had lapsed into unconsciousness.

  Beth stayed busy while Deb slept. She threw the bodies down into the basement and bathed and clothed Deb after she brought her into the storm shelter. She had virtually chewed down all of her nails while she waited for her friend to awaken. Hope coursed through her veins when Deb began to stir but it turned icy cold when she awoke screaming and shrieking, wildly throwing punches in the air.

  “Deb, it’s me, Beth. You’re safe,” Beth chanted repeatedly. It was around the eighth or ninth time before Deb began to calm down and then she went from uncontrolled shrieking to hysterical crying. Beth knew this was the cry of loss, the cry of mourning, and all she could do now for her friend was be there for her.

  Beth had long ago fallen asleep when Deb’s sobs quieted to mini convulsions and finally, blissful, forgetful sleep. It was the following evening before the girls awoke. Beth was stiff and sore from her extended stay in the fold up chair.

  “What do we do now, Deb?” Beth asked as she stretched her arms over her head.

  “We go East.” Deb said as she arose from her bed and began to put her shoes on.

  ***

  “We go West,” Paul said to the three men huddled next to him behind a small rise. They were mostly below Indian Hill but they could clearly see the supermarket complex from their vantage point.

  “Are you sure you want to go straight through the Stop and Shop
parking lot?” Dennis sounded off, a little anxiously. “I can see at least three armed men from here and I’m sure there are more in the front.”

  “You heard me, didn’t you?” Paul sounded a little more than annoyed.

  “Dude!” Dennis was about to continue when Paul glared over at him. “Colonel Ginson,” Dennis stated more meekly; “there are only three of us. Even if we get in, how are we going to haul all this off without being detected?”

  “Ah, my dear friend, in this world of ours there are some things that even you don’t know. When the time is right, I’ll let you know,” Paul said as he put his arm around Dennis’ shoulder. Dennis had been half tempted to shrug it off, but the mad glint in Paul’s eyes struck a chord that hinted that might not be the best course of action at this time.

  “Corporal Jackson, I want you on point,” Paul stated matter-of-factly, as if they were out on nothing more than a Sunday stroll. In reality, this had been their first venture out of the super bunker since the whole mess began. Dennis didn’t understand why Paul hadn’t just sent a scout. “The world was far too dangerous a place right now,” Paul’s response had been. ‘If it’s my time, then I want to be out, under the sun instead of hiding in a cave.” Dennis couldn’t argue with that but he would have felt a whole lot better if Paul hadn’t been there, all the same.

  “Right away, sir,” Corporal Jackson snapped. Paul thought that Dewey had made great strides fitting into this new playing field. And that’s how Paul thought of it sometimes; that this was just one big game of chess. Unfortunately, there could only be one king but there were a lot of pawns to go around. And if Dennis didn’t get with the program soon, he would become one of those pawns. He would bring him down from his mighty loft as a rook in a heartbeat. Paul loved Dennis but he was getting really tired of having his judgment constantly challenged. Well, there it was, Paul thought to himself, that’s probably the first sign of becoming a tyrant. An unwillingness to have his “rule” questioned. “Screw it! I’m the one keeping them alive,” Paul mumbled.

 
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