Read Crusade (Eden Book 2) Online
Authors: Tony Monchinski
Crusade (Eden Book 2) (43 page)
The blast extinguished the camp fire.
Bear came out of the trees and walked to the center of the camp. Smoke rose from the glowing embers scattered about. Two of the bodies lay unmoving in their torn sleeping bags. A third was moaning softly and shifting around inside his bag.
He walked over to the severely wounded man and looked down on him. The guy’s face was torn and bloodied. The material of his shredded sleeping bag darkened.
“Where’s the baby?” Bear stood over him. When the man couldn’t or wouldn’t answer, he finished him with one blow from the mace.
Jim tried to crawl off into the night, his legs dragging uselessly behind him, when Bear stepped on his lower back and pinned him to the ground.
“Please—Christ—Jesus—”
He reached down and turned him over.
“Please Mister—”
“Where’s the baby?”
“Wh-what baby?”
Bear raised the mace.
“Where’s the baby?”
“I swear to you—Mister, I don’t know what you’re—”
He brought the mace down and brained him.
He walked back to the ruins of the fire and searched in the dark until he found what he was looking for. The saddle bags. The grenade explosion had picked them up and thrown them away from the group.
He squatted down next to the bags and undid the clasp of the first. He dug around through it, searching. His hand gripped something small, smooth and cold. When he pulled it free he found it was a Zippo lighter. He rolled the wheel and watched the flame catch. He considered the fire in his hand then threw the lighter away.
He rifled through the other saddle bag. When his hand closed on soft cotton, he drew it out and looked at the little purple flowered panties. Drained, he exhaled and sat down in the snow, his head bowed. He felt very alone in the universe.
“Bear.”
He recognized the voice and opened his eye.
“Bruce.”
“Found this character lurking around…”
He was on his knees in the grass. In front of him was a blanket on which his pistols and weapons were set, freshly cleaned and oiled. Most of his armor and gear lay massed about the blanket as well. Beside him lay the saddle bags.
He rolled back onto the soles of his feet and twisted around to face Bruce and the kid with him.
“Where’d you find this one?”
“Hanging around the line. Wasn’t with anyone. He’s all alone.”
“Is that a fact?”
“What do you want to do with him?”
“Leave him here with me.”
He nodded, turned and walked off across the grass for the bushes.
The little boy stood there. His skin was black. His hair was grown out and nappy. He couldn’t have been more than ten and he looked like a scrapper. The kid wore pants that were way too big for him. He had secured them around his waist with a loop of rope and cut the bottoms off so they wouldn’t drag on the ground.
The boy had a pistol stuffed in his pants.
“Well. You’re a young one, ain’t ya?”
The boy didn’t say anything. He tried to look tough.
“You use that thing before?” He gestured to the butt of the pistol jutting out of the kid’s pants.
“Yeah.”
“You afraid of Zeds?”
“No.” The boy tried to sound convincing. “Why? You?”
“Me? Are you kidding? I’m terrified of them.”
“But you’re…you’re the man they call Bear, right?”
“That’s what they call me. How ‘bout you kid, you got a name?”
“My name is David Lee Roth.”
He put his head down and shook. When he looked up the kid saw he was chuckling.
“What’s so funny, Mister?”
“Do you know who David Lee Roth was?”
“Yeah. I’m David Lee Roth.”
Bear chuckled again.
“Why you laughin’?”
“I say
Jump
, or
Ain’t Talkin ‘bout Love
, or
Panama
. That doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“You making fun of my name?”
He had to admit the kid had balls.
“Kid-kid, listen. You’re talkin’ to a guy they call
Bear
. You think I’d make fun of
your
name?”
The kid considered it, then said no.
“Let me tell you why I’m laughing.” Bear turned back to his blanket. “Come on over here. Sit down.” The kid sat down opposite him. As Bear spoke he reached down and assembled a 9mm Glock.
“Back in the 80s—the 1980s—there was this rock and roll band called Van Halen. They had a lead singer named David Lee Roth.”
“Van Halen?”
“Yeah.”
“And this guy you’re talking about, he sang for them?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he look like me?”
“No, kid, he didn’t look anything like you. He was this tall skinny white guy, big hair—”
“What do you mean, ‘big hair’?”
“Kid, you gotta understand, this was the ‘80s. Guys wore their hair like women. All poofed out and Aqua Netted up.”
“Aqua Net?”
“Hairspray, kid. Hairspray.”
“What’s hairspray?”
“How old
are
you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You with anybody?”
“No.”
“So who named you David Lee Roth?”
“This man and woman I was with for awhile.”
“What happened to this man and woman?”
The kid shrugged, trying not to look sad. “Zed.”
“Zed.” Bear shook his head. He holstered the Glock and went to work assembling the second one.
“If his name was the same as mine why’d they call the band Van-whatever?”
“
Van Halen
. There were a couple of other guys in the band, last name Van Halen.”
“Oh.”
“David Lee Roth was with them a long time, but not forever.”
“Zed get him too?”
Bear looked up from his work. “Probably. But back then, he left the band, worked as a radio DJ and an EMT for awhile—”
“What’s an EMT?”
“EMTs were the guys who would show up when you had an accident or something. They helped you out.”
“What happened to the band?”
“They got a new lead singer—guy named Sammy Hagar.”
“Like Hagar the Horrible.”
“You know Hagar the Horrible but you never heard of Van Halen?”
“Nope.” He gestured to one of Bear’s weapons. “I know what that is. Knights used to use it.”
“They did.” He picked up his flanged mace and held it for the boy to see. “Want to hold it?”
“It’s heavy.”
“It is.”
“And knights used to wear those too.” The boy pointed to his chain-mail.
“That they did.”
“But what’s that?”
“That’s called a splatter mask.”
“What’s a splatter mask?”
“Tank crews in World War One used to wear them. Protect them from ricochets and all.”
“We’ve got tanks now.”
“That we do.”
“You liked David Lee Roth and Van Halen?”
“I did. Which is ironic…”
“Why’s it ironic?”
“It’s ironic because their kind of music—remember I told you the guys all wore their hair big and long like a woman’s? That type of music used to be called ‘Hair Metal,’ and look at me.” He ran a hand over his bald head and David Lee Roth laughed.
“What happened to your hair?”
“I cut it all off. Makes me look prettier.” Bear chuckled and so did the kid.
He slid into and adjusted his armor.
“He’s kind of quiet, isn’t he?” David Lee Roth nodded his head towards the wild man who had been standing behind them the entire time.
“He is.” Bear holstered his pistols. “Sometimes it’s better to be quiet. You can learn something.”
The boy nodded and asked, “What happened to your eye?”
“You’ve got a lot of questions kid, don’t you?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He slung the chainsaw blade down across his back.
“Is this going to be a long fight?”
“This one?
Months
, David Lee Roth.
Months
.”
The boy nodded.
“You ever been to New York City?” Bear pulled one gauntlet on and secured it.
“No.”
“It was a beautiful city, a real beautiful city.”
“Was?”
“It will be again. Here. I got something for you.”
The kid reached out and he handed him an iPod.
“What’s this for?”
“Music. You can listen to music on it.”
“Really?”
“Well, we gotta get some electricity for it, recharge the battery, but yeah.”
“If it’s got no battery, what do you listen to?”
“Whatever I want to. Whatever’s in my head.”
He stood. “Roll that blanket up for me, would you?”
The kid did as he was asked. He slung the saddle bags over his shoulders and picked up his bundle.
“Why do you carry that doll?”
“So I never forget, David Lee Roth.”
“Forget what?”
Bear didn’t answer the kid.
“You ever ride shotgun, David Lee Roth?”
“What’s that mean?”
