American Revenant (Book 2): Settlers and Sorrow (18 page)

            “Yes,
once.”

            “Before
or after the sickness?”

            “Before.”

            “Were
you caught?”

            “Yes.”

            “How
old were you then?”

            “Fifteen.”

            “What
did they do when you were caught?”

            “Went
to a home, gave me pills, talked to a doctor a lot.”

            “Did
any of that help you?  Did you stop wanting to do what you did?”

            “No.”

            “You
always want to, don’t you?”

            “Yes.”

            “Do
you think you’re sick, Richard?”

            “They
say I am.”

            “Not
what I asked you.”

            “No,
I’m not sick.”

            Gordy
heard yelling from up the hill, at the sports building.  Turning, he saw the
door slam back and Mike and Jimmy come barging through the door.  The men did
not run, but Jan was failing to keep up with them.

            “Gordy,
do you want us to take him back inside?”

            “No
Rick, I shouldn’t have kept them away from this.  They deserve as much as
anyone to be a part of it.”

            When
Arianna, who had stepped out on to the porch, looked up to see the two men stalking
down the hill like mad bulls she said loudly, “You keep them away from him! 
You keep those two psychos away from him, you hear me?”

            Everyone
was watching Jimmy and Mike and jumped at the loud slap that Tamara landed on Arianna’s
face.  They looked back to see blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. 
No one felt sorry for her.  She began to cry quietly, and was once again
ignored.

            Gordy
thought for a moment that he should stand in front of Richard, but knew instantly
that would be the worst thing he could do.

            Mike
reached the crowd steps before Jimmy, and stopped several feet from Richard,
just staring at the boy.  “Is it true, did you do that?  Do you do that shit,
you little bastard?”  Mike bellowed.

            Richard
didn’t look at Mike, he just nodded. 

            Mike
smoothly drew his .45, aiming at Richard’s head.

            “Mike,
don’t,” Gordy said, “please don’t Mike.  We have to handle this the right way.”

            “What’s
the right way, Gordy?  We just gonna throw him out, let him do this shit
again?”

            Jimmy
stopped next to Mike, also drawing his pistol.  Instead of aiming it at Richard
he released the magazine, dropping it into his left hand.  He racked the slide,
ejecting the cartridge in the chamber, letting it fall to the ground.

            He
handed the gun and the magazine to Gordy, who had stepped up the men. 

            “Ok
Jimmy,” Gordy said, taking the items.  “Keep calm, and we can do this the right
way.”

            Jimmy’s
head swiveled, his eyes meeting Gordy’s.  Gordy had known Jimmy for many years,
and had known him to have a temper at times, but never directed at him.  For
the first time since the two men had met, Gordy was afraid of his friend. 

            He
saw something that was no longer being pushed back, something dark and violent,
in Jimmy’s eyes.  He drew back a step, taken back by the insensate darkness in
his friend’s eyes.  It was something beyond anger or rage, a primal darkness
that was swallowing this good man whole.

            As
Gordy stepped back, Jimmy stepped forward, making the few steps to stand in
front of Richard before Arianna could finish saying, “Keep him away from
Richard!”

            Jimmy
stood there, completely silent, just staring at Richard.  He heard but ignored
everyone talking to him, asking him to step back.  His chest heaved as he
sucked great gulps of air. 

            “Look
at me.”  The voice coming from Jimmy sounded nothing like the man any of them
knew.  It was dark and deep, laced with malice, and filled with fire.

            Richard
did not have to be told twice.  He looked up, directly into the eyes of the man
standing before him and instantly began to cry.  Before him stood retribution
for every perverted thought he had ever had. 

            “Do
you like little girls?”

            Richard
knew that not answering was just as bad as answering.  He chose to answer.

            “Yes.” 
His voice was weak and soft through his tears.

            “My
friend’s daughters, mine?”

            The
voice sent chills through him, causing him to tremble.  “Yes.”  He sobbed.

            Jimmy
could still hear the voices around him, but could no longer make out their
words.  He stopped fighting against the blackness that had risen up in him the
moment he had heard Jan’s words.  He let it go, let it take him to a place
where doing was all that mattered.

            Smoothly,
and far faster than anyone could have imagined, Jimmy drew the eight inch blade
sheathed on his right leg.  A scream of primal rage tore past his lips as the
blade punched through the boy’s neck, severing the carotid artery.  Blood
fountained, washing over Jimmy’s hand as it sunk into the flesh of Richard’s
throat, flowing freely down his arm and splashing over his upturned face.

            He
did not smile, nor did he laugh.  There was no joy or pleasure in the act,
though he did not shy away from the blood spilling down over him.  The boy’s
body rose several inches from the ground from the force of the thrust, dropping
with a wet thud as Jimmy yanked the blade back out.

            As
soon as the body hit the ground Jimmy turned away, slowly walking down the hill
towards the river.  The blood pounding through his ears blotted out most sound,
though he could hear someone screaming behind him.

            Everyone
stood in utter silence, not entirely sure what they had just witnessed. 
Everyone that is, except for Arianna, who was screaming as loudly as she could.

            “Jan,
can you give her something?”  Gordy asked his wife quietly.

            Jan
simply nodded and walked to the dispensary for a sedative.

            Shock
and fear were evident on the faces around him, and Gordy just stood there, as
unable to process the event as everyone else.

Chapter 26

            Once
their initial shock wore off, everyone worked quickly to remove the body and
build the funeral pyre at the bottom of the hill.  An eerie quite hung over the
entire camp, as if the shock everyone felt had stolen their voices.

            Those
building the pyre found Jimmy sitting at the river’s edge, soaking wet.  He had
washed off in the murky water, sluicing away the blood but not the feelings of
darkness inside.

            He
sat there listening to the logs being thrown together in a pile.  He took
notice that no one was taking time to make the pyre as tight and neat as they
had made for their friends that had died before. 

Jimmy did not interact or even turn around to watch
people work; he simply sat there quietly until he heard footsteps behind him,
then a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey babe,” Tam said softly, “you ok?”

“No.  Yes.  Hell, I don’t know Tam.  People up there
calling for my head yet?”

“No, not at all.  I think everyone pretty well understands,
even those guys that came with him.  I did hear Rebecca tell one of them “Fuck off;
I would have done the same thing.”  You scared people, I’ll tell you that, but
no one is going to kick you out because of what happened.”

Jimmy looked out over the river as night slowly
settled over the water.  “Maybe they should.”

“Don’t do that.  You’re just as important to this
group as anyone and they all know it.  You and I and the girls are family here,
nothing is going to change that.  Come back up to camp, your friends are worried
about you.”

“Not right now Tam, I will soon though, I promise.”

Tam stood up, leaving her hand on Jimmy’s wet shoulder
for a moment.  She followed her husband’s line of sight, hoping to see
something of what he was looking at.  All she could see was water, riverbank
and fading light.  Tam wondered if Jimmy was seeing the same thing.

Minutes after she left him Jimmy heard another set of
footsteps, heavier than Tam’s.

“Hey Mike,” he said, before he ever saw the person
walking up behind him.

“Hey, brother, how you doing?”

“I don’t really know, feeling pretty messed up right
now.”

“I get that, Jimmy, but you gotta promise you’re not
gonna pull a Jack after this.” 

Jimmy was touched by the concern in his friend’s
voice, and told him, “Don’t worry man, I’m not going anywhere.”

Mike nodded, looking quietly out over the river.  “I
want you to know, that I would have shot him.  I wanted to.” 

Jimmy turned to look at Mike, not responding
immediately.  After a moment he nodded, asking, “Mike, how do we fight the monsters,
man?”

“Headshots, mostly,” Mike said smiling.

“Not the gut-suckers.  When you see a zombie you know
everything about it.  It’s dead, it wants to eat your face and suck out your
pancreas.  That’s it, you know it when you see it, and you act accordingly.”

Mike chuckled, taking a moment to consider Jimmy’s
question.  “I’m assuming you mean the other kind of monster then.  People like
Richard.”

“Yeah, the real monsters, the kind of people that hurt
others for pleasure or take advantage and abuse others for their own gain. 
Zombies are just zombies, Mike.  But people, man, people wear masks.  They walk
around looking like everyone else, but now that the social mores that kept them
in check are gone they start preying on others.  How do we fight something like
that?”

Mike responded slowly, considering his words.  “I’m
not sure we can, Jimbo.  I mean, yeah we can take care of it when it pulls off
its mask, but until that happens we just keep going.  We watch out for each
other, and we keep building this place up, making as safe a home as we possibly
can.”

“I get that, Mike, really.  But we let something walk
right into our safe home and live with us.  That sick bastard would have
eventually hurt one of our kids; I mean really hurt them if this hadn’t
happened.”

Mike sat quiet, soaking up some of Jimmy’s dark
thoughts.  “Then we have to be a little more careful from now on, really watch
new people closely.”

“Will that be enough?”

“It has to be, Jimmy.”

Both men sat silent for a while after that, the kind
of quiet that only longtime friends can share, a silence that does not need to
be filled with chatter just for the sake of sound.

****

Mike and Jimmy returned to the Camp a short while
later.  Mike went to find his wife, while Jimmy sought out Gordy.

They talked for a while, and Gordy reassured Jimmy
that no one harbored ill will against him.  People were shocked, and maybe
saddened, by the incident, but no one blamed him for his loss of control.

“I didn’t lose control Gordy, I lost myself.  It felt
like I was along for the ride, kind of looking on from behind and beside the
entire situation.”

“Jimmy,” Gordy said, looking directly into his friends
eyes, “whatever you do, don’t let this eat you up.  We have to move past it,
put it behind us and get on with the business of living.”

Jimmy nodded, hearing Gordy’s words, but not entirely
sure he would be able to follow them.

Excusing himself, Jimmy headed up the cabin where he
knew his wife and daughters were waiting for him.  As he neared the cabin he
could hear voices from inside, talking.

“I’m glad Daddy killed him, he was nasty!”

“Ashley Gail Mitchell!  That’s a horrible thing to
say, don’t let me hear you say something like that again!”

“Daddy says we shouldn’t want somebody to die, no
matter what.”

“So, he still killed him, Miranda.  He was bad, and
Dad was right, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Girls that’s enough!  Ashley, I know this has been a
horrible day for you; it has been for everyone, baby.  But you can’t think
things like that, sweetheart.”

“Why not, Mom?  He
was
a bad man, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was, but that doesn’t mean you should be glad
he’s dead.  Human life means too much to be happy when someone dies, even
someone who lost their way and does bad things to people.”

Jimmy leaned against the wall outside the door, and
slowly slid to the ground.  He sat there listening to his family talking,
talking about what he had done, and it broke his heart to think that he had
somehow hurt his daughters by doing what he did.

With the cool ground beneath him and the rough wood of
the cabin at his back he sat there and cried quietly.  Once his tears had dried
up he stood, opened the thin door of the cabin and walked in. 

He tried to take joy at the shouts of happiness from
his family, but it felt as if it were all drained out of him, replaced with
something dark and malignant.