Reckoning by Mark Tufo
“Goodness gracious! I hope so. I don’t want to be outside when the dark falls. That’s when all the loons come out,” the old woman added. The sergeant stifled an audible snort at that. If nothing else, these two were the self-proclaimed king and queen of lunacy. Well, at the very least, emissaries.
“Where’s the other girl?” the man asked without ever turning around to face his new captives. The sergeant was right; they had been looking for them. He tried to think on his feet, so to speak, as fast as he could.
“Listen! If it’s money, I’ve got some stashed!” he said excitedly, hoping for a possible escape from this dilemma.
“Hush, son, I never said nothing ‘bout no money. I asked you a direct question. I expect a direct answer." The sergeant’s hope quickly deflated.
“She didn’t make it,” he said with grim resignation.
“Pity,” the old man said as he began the long, drawn-out process of constricting his brittle body into the confines of the ancient vehicle.
***
“Five of them, Frank! They’re going to blow the lid off this place!” Major Salazar sat across from Paul, far removed from the dirt and dust that choked his lungs and sullied his skin. He had cuts, scrapes and bruises covering most of his body, everything hurt, yet he tried not to show it.
“I take it, then, we haven’t heard anything from our long range scouts?”
“Nothing.”
Paul sat back down, a dejected look on his face. “All that we’ve gained here is going to be lost in a matter of days.”
Major Salazar could only nod his head; he didn’t have any answers either.
***
Bennett had fully prepared to surrender when he looked up from his pillaged sleeping bag to see the five uniformed men looking down on him. “I was just getting ready to come back to face my justice,” he sniveled. The expressions on the men’s faces changed to bewilderment. Bennett smelled hope.
“You’re n-n-n-not looking for me?”
“We don’t even know who you are,” one of the dirtier fellows answered. “We just need a place to stay for a day or two and some food, if you have any extra.”
Bennett was so relieved that, for a moment, he actually forgot how small and greedy he was. He showed his guests to the enormous pantry of wares he had been stealing from anywhere and everywhere.
Chapter 47 – Mike Journal Entry Twelve
The days melted away as I prepared for the upcoming bout. I was now running ten miles in the morning before I even began my daily workout. Durgan had not come to visit me in over two days. I think my rapid improvement was unnerving him somewhat, probably not enough for him to physically register, maybe on a subconscious level though. Or maybe I never took enough psych classes and he really just didn’t give a shit about me. I chose to believe the former as opposed to the latter. It felt better.
The sheer hatred I felt for the man bubbled to the surface with every waking moment. I relived every murder I’d seen him commit. Along with the “vitamins,” this was what impelled me to win. I once vowed to avenge those women’s murders and now it was time to collect.
There was only a day and a half ‘til D-Day and the three hundred and seventy-five pounds wasn’t going to lift itself. I had nearly wrapped up my routine when I heard the familiar sound of the shield to my abode being lowered. Durgan walked in, as if he owned the place.
“Did you know I stayed here while you were gone?” he said conversationally. I didn’t know how to respond and he wasn’t looking for that anyway. “I wanted to see how the great champion lived,” he added mockingly as he spread out his arms and twirled once around.
I sat up from my workout bench, keeping a wary eye on him. The man was psychotic; and I couldn’t afford a sucker-punch right now, any injury might hinder any abilities I would need. He advanced a step or two; when he realized I wasn’t going to let him approach unnoticed, he seemed to lose interest in that endeavor.
“Did you know that I had a 4.0 GPA in Chemical Engineering at C.U. when I went to that concert? Did you?” I guess now he was looking for some sort of answer from me.
“I…I didn’t know that.” This great ape was almost a rocket scientist! I guess that made sense. They say that the most brilliant geniuses are a hair’s breadth away from insanity. This ship had been the catalyst that triggered his journey into the abyss.
I thought that maybe if I kept talking to him, quite possibly, he might open up to me. Who knows? Crazier things had happened. “Chemical Engineering, huh?” I sounded lame but I didn’t know how else to approach the guy. He had, thus far, never shown a human side. I didn’t think he was even capable. “What made you decide on that major?”
“Listen, Mike, I’m not trying to get all touchy-feely with you. I just wanted to let you know that I have an incredible brain to go with this near perfect body, that’s all. So don’t go trying to psychoanalyze me. I was always an outcast on Earth. Let’s just say my people skills were for shit. I found my true calling up here.” A light began to shine in his eyes as he began to recount all his victories.
“This place was made for me. When I killed my first opponent, it was the first time I ever truly felt alive. It was nothing like the cats I used to kill when I was a kid. Sure, that was enjoyable and all, but nothing compared to the rush of my blade hitting home. That shudder of the knife as it scraped against his bones… The way his eyes first bulged in shock and terror and then began to dim with the realization of the inevitable. I thought I was going to burst out in tears with the sheer joy of it all.”
“Durgan I knew you were sick before you opened your mouth, but I had no idea of the depth to which your insanity had plunged,” I answered. Horror invaded me like no other time before in my life. The men in the ring were, for the most part maniacal but that was probably because of the situation they found themselves in. This bastard actually relished the idea of the competitions. My words did little, if anything, to curb his rant; he continued as if I weren’t even there. I think his speech was more for his own benefit than mine, anyway. He was, without a doubt, an egomaniac.
“I think my parents suspected something about me, after our third cat ‘disappeared.’ We stopped getting animals. We did get a couple of fish but they weren’t nearly as fun to fillet live. Their mouths would just gape open for a few seconds and that was about it. No screaming or howling. I don’t even think they knew they were dying, not like the cats anyway. The cats would put up one hell of a struggle.” He snorted.
“This one time I had to keep my stomach covered for a full week. Our second cat, Bonanza, scratched me real good. I’ve still got the scar.” He proceeded to raise his shirt to show me a razor thin mark that started a few inches below his right nipple, crossed over his belly button and dropped down another inch. “Yeah, that got me good.”
“I think you got him a little better.”
“Yeah, you’re right!” He laughed as he smacked my back. “Good one.” Apparently this brainiac wasn’t accustomed to sarcasm. “I’m glad to see that you’re looking a little bit more competitive-ready. I want my Earthly debut to be a grand event. I’ll be a star back home.”
“What makes you think that killing me on global television is going to make you a hero?” I intoned.
“Mike, don’t you get it? People love this crap. Why do you think that the news was so popular? Nobody wants to hear about the good Samaritan that helped some homeless man. Which, by the way, they always run at the very end of the newscast, if at all. They want to hear about the lead story. You know the one, where some sicko is stalking college girls and disposing of their used-up bodies by the side of the road. That’s what people tune in for. Sure, they’ll be shaking their heads when our event starts and lying to each other about how wrong and terrible it is. But nobody will turn it off. Oh no, my friend,” he said as he clasped my shoulder.
His eyes were focused a thousand yards down range. “Once the first drop of blood from you shoots out, they’ll be animals. Their heart rate
“And when the cameras close in on your twitching and near lifeless body, people will almost be foaming at the mouth from the sheer thrill of it all. They’ll want more and more and I’ll promise them that. And for delivering that promise, they will hold parades for me. They’ll give me keys to cities. They’ll probably give me cities.”
“Durgan, you have lost it. They’re not going to love you for killing me. They are going to loathe you.”
“Loathe, love. They are almost interchangeable. Don’t you know that some of the biggest villains are the most revered people? Look at J.R. Ewing. People loved to hate him. Mike, look at Hitler. He slaughtered millions of people and they still write books about him. Countless people are still trying to start the Fourth Reich. Does that sound like lunacy? Think on that for a while, don’t dwell too long though,” Durgan said as he stood up and headed for the door. “You really shouldn’t spend too much of what little time you have left, pondering.” He laughed a small chuckle. He was almost through the beamed door when I yelled out to him.
“Durgan!” He turned. “I am going to kill you,” I stated as surely as if I told him the sky was blue. His face faltered for a millisecond, if that. I might have even imagined it.
“Yeah, right,” he answered as he passed through the door and the familiar humming of the force field around the door resumed.
Chapter 48
“Where are you taking us?” Beth wailed. Fear had reddened her eyes.
“Oh dearie,” the old crone said as she turned around. “Do be quiet, I think that your sergeant friend here already knows the answer. Beth turned towards Grady. She had been so busy wallowing in her own terror that she had not spared the occasion to look over at him. Meanwhile, he had paled to an ashen gray. All his life tones had bled out of his skin. He looked as terrified as she felt.
“Where are they taking us?” Beth said more quietly, trying not to panic and/or possibly push the sergeant over the edge.
“I think these are Corporal Mike Harris’ parents. They’re taking us back to the National Guard Post. That’s my guess,” the sergeant said listlessly.
“I’d kill ya’ myself, laddie,” the old man grumbled as he spared a glance through his rearview mirror. “Luckily for you, I don’t believe much in the vigilante way of life. I figure you’ll get a fair trial and then you’ll get shot for treason.”
The old lady looked back with venom in her eyes. Beth could never imagine the lady baking apple pies for, much less winning, the Belchertown Blue Ribbon twice, if she was to be believed. Right now, she looked as mean as a rattlesnake on meth and probably twice as venomous.
“We’ve lost two sons, Sergeant, before you shot our Mikey in the leg. He’s all the reason we have to live, except of course, for catching the man that maimed him. We figured you’d be too smart to come back into the state the regular ways and we were right, weren’t we, Mary Helen?”
He grinned a wide, mostly toothless smile, but it was humorless. His eyes narrowed as his grin grew. Beth was unsure whether they would make it to their destination or not. Mary Helen cackled at his grin. Beth thought that perhaps Mary Helen was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. She didn’t seem to be altogether with it; but perhaps it was the death of two of her sons sending her over the edge. She wouldn’t be the first, nor the last to watch the last shredded remnants of their sanity float off into the breeze like ragweed on a hot summer day.
“Mrs. Harris, I know that I should be tried for my treasonous acts, but the girl had nothing to do with this. Just let her go, and I’ll go peacefully back,” the sergeant pleaded in desperation. A sparkle flashed across Mary Helen’s eyes, like somebody had turned on the lights or at least walked by with a strong flashlight, Beth thought. Mary Helen looked Beth up and down and turned to the sergeant.
“You’re wrong in that aspect, dearie. I think that she had everything to do with it. Would you have risked everything if she was perhaps thirty years older or maybe sixty pounds heavier? Or a man? I doubt it.” She cackled as she looked back at Beth with a knowing smile. “What would your wife be thinking right about now, Sergeant? I can smell it all over you both. It reeks of adultery and lust and sin.” Beth bowed her head in silent shame. Was it that obvious?
They drove in silence for another twenty minutes while the old car rumbled along at an unimpressive thirty-eight miles per hour. Mary Helen began to clap in glee when the old, underused barracks, until recently anyway, came into view. The small two-story building, in addition to being an armory, at one time, served as the state police barracks. But that was another lifetime ago.
Now, the men housed there weren’t so much taxed with the burden of serving and protecting the people as they were with serving and protecting themselves. Sure, to some degree, they felt they were still working toward the common good, but like many people throughout the ages, absolute power, and all that… And the colonel, for all intents and purposes, was the ultimate power, at least in these parts. He ruled his realm like any good overlord would have in medieval England, with an iron fist.
The sergeant was forcibly removed from the car. It seemed that everyone wanted a piece of him as they dragged him out. Beth was treated with a little more civility, but not much. If not for the appearance of the colonel, the sergeant thought that his life might have ended on the pavement. After what ensued, he looked back and wished it had.
“Ah! So our not-so-triumphant treasonous sergeant returns,” the colonel said as he spat and looked down on the kneeling sergeant. The sergeant swiveled his head to look up at the colonel but the sun was right behind the colonel’s head, making it difficult to see anything but his silhouette.
“I have someone here that’s very eager to see you, O’Bannon,” the colonel half-laughed. The colonel moved to the side a few inches to let the mystery person enter his field of vision. He still couldn’t see, but recognized the halo of hair from a mile away. The sergeant began to openly weep when he realized that his wife was there.
“Why?” she asked softly as she placed her hand on his cheek.
“I’m so sorry, Meg,” he cried as he placed his handcuffed hands over hers. His contact, however, made her withdraw almost as if she’d been snake-bitten.
They were high school sweethearts. Neither of them, to her knowledge, had ever been in a serious relationship other than the one they shared. Through the ups and downs of their lives, they managed to build something decent together. Wasn’t their son testament to that fact?
“They fucked!” The old woman yelled from the car before she began to howl with laughter, rocking back and forth, like a hyena on speed. “They fucked!” she repeated, a little more softly, but still the majority of those present heard it. The hustle and bustle only moments before came to a standstill as the men in the troop watched to see what would happen next.
“Is that true?” Meg cried. The sergeant stared, helplessness etched on his face. “Is that true?” she yelled.
“Meg, I’m so sorry,” he stammered between tears.
Meg brought her hand back up, but this time it wasn’t for a soft caress. Her slap stung the sergeant harder than any bullet ever could. She turned her back and returned to the barracks to gather her belongings and head back home, where her boy would wait for a daddy who would never return.
The colonel waited until Meg had completely vanished into the building. “I always knew you weren’t quite an exact fit for our outfit, Sergeant, but I would never have guessed how far you could have strayed from your country and your family.” The colonel turned on one heel and headed back from whence he came. “Throw them both in the brig,” the colonel added a
The sergeant felt a pair of rough hands pick him up off the pavement. Tears streaked his face, giving it a ruddy appearance. Any swagger that the sergeant might have once possessed was now completely drained from him. He walked the walk of a thoroughly defeated man, head bowed while his feet barely rose above the level of the ground.
Beth stumbled as she was shoved in the direction of the barracks. She turned to glare at the man who pushed her. He was a brutish man, not overly large, but he looked powerful.
“Turn around, bitch, and get moving,” he said as he shoved her again. She nearly lost her footing. The cuffs made it difficult to walk in the first place, much worse with someone shoving her. The door to the station began to close as Beth heard the old woman yell out her favorite comment.
“He fucked her!” she yelled again as the wild cackle began anew. The sound of the cell doors closing behind Beth awoke something both primitive and dark from deep within her. It was a fear that mushroomed from her toes to the top of her head. She had never, not even while on the alien ship, felt so completely trapped.
There was no outside light source and the illumination in the cell was supplied by one sixty-watt bulb that hung in the center of the small corridor she had just crossed. From the lighting, she couldn’t even tell if she had the cell to herself; the far end was completely bathed in shadow. The brutish man with the pockmarked face had already closed the door and was headed back up the corridor when Beth called out to him.
“What…What about the cuffs?” she asked as she raised her hands, as if showing him her problem might make it better.
“Eat me, bitch,” he answered without ever turning around.
“Oh, great,” Beth mumbled to herself. “I really have to pee too.” Beth recognized her quandary and it made her smile for a brief moment, but it was a smile nonetheless.
The sergeant found his way into his cell after sustaining some moderate punishment. Nothing had been broken, that thought did little to ease his mind. The men, for the most part, had once been his good friends and to see the brutality and hatred that formed on their faces as they took out their frustration on him was almost more than he could bear.