Casket for Sale, Only Used Once (26 page)
Read Casket for Sale, Only Used Once Online
Authors: Jeff Strand
"That's okay," I said. "Let's just try it again."
She didn't respond, and I could barely see her through the smoke.
What if she'd broken her neck?
I climbed down and knelt down next to her. "C'mon, Samantha, you can do this."
She shook her head. "No, I can't. He tortured me ... I mean, he
really
... his knife ... I just can't do it. I've got nothing left. Get out of here. Please."
"Not without you."
"You can't carry me! Please, we don't both need to die."
"Look, I don't have time to get into the details, but one of the few possibilities for me getting a happy ending out of this is for me to bring you safely back to the love of your life. So we're getting out of this together. Don't argue."
"How are we going to do it if I can't climb?"
I considered that.
"I don't know. I'm still sort of hoping we'll be rescued."
The semi shifted and moved back at least two more feet.
"Maybe it's a really tiny cliff," I said. "We may be stressing out over nothing."
"Yeah, I'm sure Mr. Burke jumped out so he could drive the semi over a really tiny cliff."
"Don't be so pessimistic."
"Sorry."
"If we can't climb, we'll just have to..."
I left that sentence unfinished for a long moment.
Fly out?
Teleport out?
Wake up from a bad dream?
Shoot our way out?
Which of the corpses was it that nearly shot my foot off when it fell? I searched through the burning bodies as well as I could, yelping in pain about eight times, and found an arm with a machine gun on the end.
Sweet.
I also found an axe with which to lop it off.
I did so quickly. Then I picked up the machine gun, let out my ninth yelp, and dropped it. The damn thing was
hot.
"Sorry about this," I told Samantha as I took off my shoes and jeans. The next time Kyle questioned that whole "Make sure you have on clean underwear" parental command, I'd have an anecdote to share with him.
Using my jeans to keep my hands from getting burnt
off,
I picked up the machine gun, pointed it at the wall of the semi, and pulled the trigger.
The semi was filled with a deafening
ratatatatatatat
of machine gun fire and clangs as the bullets struck metal. Streaks of light burst through the holes.
I hate to admit it, but standing there wearing only my underwear, firing a machine gun, made me feel
incredibly
macho.
The bullets continued to chew away at the semi wall.
The semi slid backward.
I kept firing, hoping nobody was on the other side (unless it was Mr. Burke).
The machine gun ran out of bullets and I tossed it aside. We now had a really scary-looking opening with jagged edges that didn't look large enough to climb out without slicing ourselves to ribbons, but, hey, beggars can't be choosers.
The semi was still sliding. I looked through the hole and saw that we were indeed dangling over a cliff, that it was an extremely long drop to the ground, but that we'd smashed through a metal fence that was now twisted and within our reach. "You first," I told Samantha.
She wasted no time. She crawled over to the hole and I helped her through, removing a long strip of her left leg in the process. She grabbed hold of the fence and scooted toward solid ground.
The semi slid again, taking the fence out of my reach.
I frantically began to climb the corpses.
"Andrew!" I heard Samantha scream on the other side.
I didn't respond because that would have used up valuable climbing energy. I tried to think happy thoughts.
Happy
climby
thoughts.
I climbed up the third, fourth, and fifth bodies. Only about a dozen left. No problem.
As I got halfway there, the semi picked up speed. So did
I
.
Helen, Theresa, Kyle, Roger, and Samantha were all alive, and damn it, I was going to join them. I climbed as fast as I could, eyes feeling like they were sizzling from the smoke, lungs burning, but not stopping.
I reached the second-to-last corpse.
Don't lose your grip. Don't lose your grip. Don't grab anything detachable. Don't grab anything detachable.
I reached for the top corpse, accidentally stuck my hand in its open, screaming mouth, but pulled myself up anyway.
And then I was at the top.
And then the semi fell over the edge of the cliff.
And then I jumped.
The semi smashed into the riverbank about a hundred feet below. I hung from the cliff face, holding nothing that felt remotely firm enough to sustain me. My fingers dug into the grass but I could tell I was seconds away from a nice long fall onto a semi filled with burning
cyborg
corpses.
Samantha thrust her hand at me. I grabbed it.
As she pulled, I tried to use my feet against the dirt cliff face to give myself some leverage. It wasn't really working. But since I hadn't died in all of the other times I'd vowed I wouldn't die, I sure wasn't going to die here.
With Samantha's help, I pulled myself most of the way onto solid ground.
In the distance I saw Mr. Burke limping toward us.
I was pretty sure he was holding a gun.
"Samantha! Watch out!"
A shot rang out.
I tasted several drops of Samantha's blood in my open mouth.
And then I fell.
Helen's Side
I OPENED MY EYES to red and blue flashing lights.
"Where are my children?" I demanded, sitting up in a panic. I was on a stretcher.
"It's okay, they're both in the ambulance," the paramedic assured me.
"My daughter was stabbed! You have to help her!"
"It's under control. You've been in an accident, but the other driver wasn't hurt, so just relax."
"I can't relax! My husband, have you seen him?"
"Ma'am, there wasn't anybody else in the vehicle."
"I know! He was in a semi."
The paramedic's eyes widened. "Okay, we've got police cars investigating that right now. But there's nothing you can do, so just relax." He gave me an injection. "Just relax."
SO HERE'S WHAT happened.
I didn't plummet down onto the semi, shattering my bones into a million pieces and burning my flesh in the flames within. Instead I slid down the cliff face, scraping the hell out of my arms and chest, and managed to get myself steadied about halfway down.
It was way too steep to climb back up without the aid of a corpse ladder, so I was forced to stay there, helpless, until I heard vehicles approach overhead.
When the cops pulled me to safety, they were loading Samantha into an ambulance. I hurried over there as best I could,
trying
to see if she was dead.
She'd been hit in the shoulder.
Mr. Burke was nowhere to be seen.
I let them load me into the ambulance.
As we sped down the freeway, the paramedic gave me the news. Helen, Theresa, and Kyle were all being rushed to the nearest hospital. They were all alive.
Roger was also in an ambulance on his way to the same hospital.
"Will she be okay?" I asked, looking over at Samantha.
The paramedic nodded. "She'll live. But what on earth
happened
to you people?"
I didn't answer.
* * * *
ROGER GOT RELEASED first, and his job was to bring us huge amounts of fast food instead of the crap they had available at the hospital.
Samantha regained consciousness in the middle of the second night. I got the news while I was sitting in Theresa's room, staring at my daughter, hating myself.
Kyle sat in the room with me, his arm bandaged up. "She's going to wake up," he said, knowingly.
"Yes, she will."
He scooted his chair closer to mine. "I know you didn't mean to do it. I know they gave you drugs."
"You're right," I said. "They did."
"I'm never, ever, ever going to use drugs."
I managed a smile.
"Good for you, kiddo."
He looked at me, his expression solemn. "Daddy, if you want to cry, it's okay. I promise I won't tell anybody."
I held him tight and did just that.
Theresa regained consciousness three days later and couldn't remember anything that happened.
* * * *
MR. BURKE GOT AWAY. He must have hitchhiked or stolen a car at gunpoint, but as I write this the police still haven't caught him. Personally, I hope right now he's making
cyborgs
in hell.
* * * *
WITCH WAS FOUND sitting on the side of the road, muttering incoherently to herself. The last I heard, she still hadn't spoken to anybody at the psychiatric ward.
* * * *
MOST OF THE corpses were identified by their dental records, at least those who still had teeth. They'd been missing over a period of three years.
Roger had ridden to safety on a man named Herschel
Eberhardt
, whose family issued a statement saying how proud they were that Herschel had saved a life six months after his death.
* * * *
SAMANTHA WOULDN'T TELL us exactly what Troll did to her behind the closed door in the lab, but of course the doctors told us about her injuries. You don't want to know. Trust me.
* * * *
THE DOCTORS ADMITTED there wasn't much they could do to reattach a finger that had been flushed down the toilet. I kept trying to encourage a cool nickname like "Nine-Finger Mayhem," but nobody embraced that idea.
* * * *
JOE WAS PERFECTLY fine.
* * * *
A FEW DAYS LATER, Samantha and Theresa were transferred to
Helen stroked my arm tenderly as we sat on the couch, watching Theresa and Kyle fight over who loved Joe the most. I'd apologized to her approximately 1,837,612 times for what I'd done, and after a couple of days she seemed convinced I wouldn't have a relapse.
That night, we lay in bed, sweaty from our lovemaking. It was the first time we'd had sex since before the vacation, and though we were forced to be extremely careful because of our injuries, it had been a wonderfully pleasant experience, even with that stupid pug scraping on the door the entire time.
"I love you so much," she whispered. "I don't want to ever lose you."
"You won't." I kissed her gently on the lips. "I promise."
Theresa screamed.
I threw on a bathrobe and we rushed into her bedroom. Theresa was sitting up in bed, sobbing.
"What's the matter, sweetie? What's wrong?" asked Helen.
"
Daddy!
Daddy's trying to kill me
!"
* * * *
I LAY ON ROGER'S couch, unable to get comfortable. His couch sucked. Quite frankly, his apartment sucked, too. He needed to just move in with Samantha already. She had a much nicer place.
His cat, Reverse Snowflake, jumped up onto my chest and began to lick my face. "Your cat has very foul breath," I informed Roger as he walked into the living room.
"That's only because he pukes a lot."
I sat up and Roger sat down on the couch next to me. "What time is it?" I asked.
"Middle of the night."
"That's what I figured."
"Samantha told me all about what happened in the back of the semi."
"You mean when I took off my pants?"
"No, when you wouldn't leave without her."
"Oh, that. I was drunk."
"It means a lot to me. I'm serious."
"You would've done the same for Helen."
"Yeah, I probably would have. So I guess we're even." He grinned. "Anyway, thanks for getting her out of there."
"No problem."
"So is it okay if she hangs out with us at the Java Joint next Wednesday?"
"Sure."
"I'm kidding, Andrew."
"Oh. Good."
"Get some sleep."
"I will."
I lay back down and closed my eyes. I still couldn't sleep, so I pushed the cat away, got up, found a notebook, and started writing.
And now I'm just about done.
It felt good to write this all down, but I'm not sure I want anybody to read it, except for Helen, who filled in some of the gaps.
