Crossing Bedlam (27 page)

The cannibal is caught off-guard when Lloyd darts forward and jams the sickle in the man’s head. Not breaking stride, the serial killer keeps walking in the direction of the hotel and listens for the faint sound of a body dropping. With their leader and most of the central family now on the menu, the other Wendigoes give Lloyd a wide berth while they collect the dead. Only one attempts to continue the hunt and is swiftly impaled through the chest by his own weapon. By the time the weary killer steps out of the trees and into the hotel parking lot, the cannibals have slunk back into the shadows.

Waving to a few startled people in the lobby and giving Paul a wide grin, Lloyd jogs back to the room. Stopping at the stairwell, he decides to use the elevator this time and is happy find that it works perfectly. He is mildly surprised to find two bodies in front of the room, each one with a bullet in the middle of the forehead. Not wanting to get blamed for the mess, he drags the corpses toward the far end of the hallway. Seeing the drunk couple slip through a nearby door, a wicked grin crosses Lloyd’s face. Satisfied that this is a decent revenge for possibly taking over the elevator and setting the night’s events in motion, he leaves the stiffening bodies in front of their room. Instead of knocking to start the fun early, the exhausted man decides to check on Cassidy and see if he can have a well-earned shower.

“Some friends of yours showed up,” the blonde states from her bed. Dressed in gym shorts and a modest top, she shows no sign of having ever been in danger. “They laughed when I pointed my gun and tried to use a dart on me. They hit my mom, so I shot one and the other told me everything. Figured you didn’t need my help. Cannibals, huh?”

“Incestuous cannibals,” Lloyd states as he locks the door behind him. Examining himself in the mirror, he is impressed that there is very little blood on his clothing. “By the way, do we have any printer paper and markers? Thought we grabbed some back in Iowa for letters. I want to make some flyers to put up as we head for our next adventure. Just need to clear the air about something.”

“That stuffs in the jeep,” Cassidy replies, tossing her friend a candy bar. She picks up the remote on the pillow next to her and puts the DVD back to its menu. “I started watching something without you, but we can start over. Though I’ll probably be going to sleep in an hour or two. Just wanted to wait for you to get back and see how things went. The shower is really strong and relaxing, so have fun with that.”

“Were you watching that porno?”

“No. I was watching the actual show.”

“How could you tell?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd.”

The killer sighs and heads for the bathroom as he admits, “That’s the most heart-warming thing that’s been said to me all night.”

Blasphemers!

“Doesn’t that pea coat make you hot?” Lloyd asks while watching the tree-covered hills give way to civilization. He chuckles at the sign for Salt Lake City, which is emblazoned by a brightly colored cross. “It’s summer and you don’t have the air conditioner on. Not even sure if the damn thing works. How have you not melted into a puddle? Are you an evolved human who can withstand slightly higher temperatures?”

“I drink a lot of water and take the pea coat off when I don’t need it,” Cassidy replies as she turns down the music. Begrudgingly listening to her friend, she slides the jacket off and leaves against her back. “Maybe I don’t drink as much as I should during the day, but I chug a lot before and after sleep. What kind of conversation is this, Lloyd?”

“Not sure if you’re ready for it,” he admits, handing her one of their canteens. He grins when she takes a drink and shudders at the unexpected taste of whiskey. “Probably not a smart thing to do while you’re driving, but we’re coming to a town. Figure we can stop for a bit to get supplies and stretch our legs.”

“We stop in Nevada.”

“But this is a bustling metropolis. Look.”

Having only heard rumors about the area, Cassidy is not entirely surprised by what she sees as they enter Salt Lake City. She can tell that most of the original buildings remain and any damage caused by the early years has been repaired or hidden. Like every other city in the Shattered States, people are trading whatever they can scavenge to get what they need and doing their best to avoid getting into trouble. Very few vehicles are on the road, so there is a lot of attention given to the jeep. Bicycles are the primary mode of transportation throughout the city, which explains all of the signs that lead to rental companies. Lloyd points to a group of children sitting in a park with their teacher, all of them silently reading from black-covered books. There is a more modest level of dress, which makes Cassidy wonder if the citizens are even aware of what is happening outside their borders.

It is not until they pay more attention to their surroundings that they pick up on what makes Salt Lake City tick. There are extravagant churches and simple street preachers on every block, some of them claiming spots a few feet from each other. Painted signs about Jesus and God have been hung from the lights at every intersection. The curtained stalls the travelers originally thought to be phone booths turn out to be confessionals. Passing a stream, they see several people get baptized while a separate group sings hymns from the shore. Lloyd cannot stop himself from laughing when they see a fully decorated Christmas tree set up in the middle of a park. Several gardeners are working to maintain the giant fir and its surrounding gardens, which is very difficult considering the summer heat. The longer they observe the city, the more the pair realize that it is a very Christian area and their minds run wild with how the locals will act towards them and their small armory.

“I’ve heard how the four corner states are at war, but always thought it was unverified gossip,” Cassidy explains, stopping to let a funeral procession through. With it being clear that they are stuck for several minutes, she puts the jeep into park and leans back. “The way the stories go is that this walled city appeared where the states meet and nobody can get inside. Yet there is an inscription on the door that claims it is the new Fortress of God and a gift will be given to the true followers. The major religions took over the surrounding states and have been fighting to claim the city. I guess they can’t go in until a victor is chosen or something equally as ridiculous. Guess it’s obvious that Christianity took Utah and the stories say the Jews have Arizona. Want to say the Muslims are in New Mexico and several rumors put the Pagans in Colorado. Not really sure why that last group is even involved in this. Then again, I’m amazed that even part of the gossip is true. Probably best that we keep going and camp far outside of town. Holy wars have a long history of getting messy.”

“My head is spinning already, but that might be the smell of whatever is in those things the preachers are swinging around,” Lloyd says before rolling up the window. He turns on the air conditioner only to hear it sputter and groan. “All of your concern about the weapons and the CD player, but you never asked any of the mechanics we’ve met to fix the AC? I’m bringing up my previous topic now as punishment. Do you want to make your life more difficult? Many of your plans become complicated and nearly suicidal. You wear a heavy jacket in the summer, which also makes me question if you have any identity beyond your past. The only time you seem alive is when we’re jumping into action and facing death. Far be it for me to psychoanalyze, but that’s some major self-destructive behavior.”

“Because maybe that’s the only fucking time I do feel alive!” the young woman snaps, flooring the gas pedal and driving around the end of the funeral procession. She flips off the people that complain about nearly getting hit, but the gesture is unseen behind the closed window. “You want to know what I was before the collapse? A suburban high school student who was on the track team and did ballet dancing on the weekend. I wanted to go to college and become a teacher or a scientist while my boyfriend was going to be a pilot. Then a bunch of brain-damaged, ego-sucking politicians started swinging their dicks around and my future became this hellhole. So fucking forgive me for being passive when there’s nothing to distract me from my own thoughts. At least being in danger gives me focus and I can prove that I’m more than a broken piece of shit among the other broken pieces of shit out here.”

“Feel good getting that out of your system?”

“Yes, but I think it got muddled.”

“Tends to happen when you’re emotional.”

“I don’t have anything left of my old life.”

“Then start a new one.”

“After San Francisco. Have to focus on that.”

“Or pay attention to the road.”

“Are you trying to be philosophical?”

“I mean there’s a man in the road!”

Cassidy slams on the brakes and wrenches the wheel to avoid the well-dressed man who sprints onto the highway. She notices a collection of pamphlets in the local’s hand along with a look of surprise as she misses him by a few inches. The jeep spins for several yards before a loud series of pops makes it list to one side and skid to a stop. Pounding her fist on the steering wheel, Cassidy can see the man is hurrying toward them and she leaps out of the vehicle to figure out what has happened. Both of the driver’s side tires are destroyed and she crawls underneath the jeep to make sure there is no more damage. By the time she climbs back out, the local is there holding out his pamphlets with a wide grin.

“I’m sorry to have caused you trouble,” he says, his expression changing slightly when he sees the murder in Cassidy’s eyes. Turning to Lloyd, he finds that the other traveler appears a bit more welcoming than the blonde. “Have either you found Jesus. He-”

“No,” Cassidy growls, pointing a finger in the nervous Jehovah Witness’s face. Fighting the temptation to draw a weapon on the man, she settles for repeatedly poking him in the nose as she speaks. “I just fixed my jeep back in Wyoming. The room and board cost me a very nice mini-gun as well as a booster system for replacement parts and fuel. This trip has been one headache after another and I’m not in the mood to deal with whatever bullshit your city has to offer. Now tell me where I can trade for some tires and run away.”

“I don’t know where you can go, but I’ve seen tow trucks patrol the streets,” the man answers, stepping back from the woman. Tucking his pamphlets into his suit pocket, he offers a fancy rosary and a pouch of incense. “These can be used as trade for your tires. As long as you find someone who comes from the sect that needs them. Please forgive me for causing you trouble.”

“Thanks. I guess you’re forgiven. Just be careful next time.”

Watching the Jehovah’s Witness leave and the gathered crowd return to their daily lives, the travelers patiently sit on the hood of the jeep. They hope that someone will mention their situation to a local mechanic, but they get the sense that they are not entirely welcomed. For one reason or another, the locals avoid the pair and shy away from eye contact. It would not surprise them to learn that violent outsiders regularly arrive and start trouble, especially if there really is a war going on. The idea that they are already seen as a threat makes their desire to get back on the road and reach Nevada even stronger. After all of the trouble that they have stumbled into, they can tell that the longer they stay in Salt Lake City, the more likely they will have to fight their way out.

“So what religion are you?” Lloyd asks in order to break the silence.

“Don’t really think about it. Feels like you have to believe that God exists and I’m just not sure,” Cassidy replies, her eyes falling on an approaching vehicle. Spotting a hook dangling from the back of the tow truck, she waves her arm to get the driver’s attention. “Think that makes me agnostic. How about you?”

“I believe I was born Christian. Only because I vaguely remember my father hitting me in the head with a Bible when I was six,” the smirking man answers while hopping off the jeep and stretching. “Then again, I find myself drawn more to the god of war. Not officially, but my love of violence seems better for that arena. Remind me about what I said in case we run into a very dedicated census taker.”

“You do realize that there are a lot of war gods, right?”

“I mean the albino with the whirling blades of death.”

Cassidy groans and rubs her eyes before rolling to her feet. “Try to keep that to yourself, Lloyd. Last thing we want is to get in trouble. Just once I’d like to get from one end of a state to the other without a headache.”

“That never happens to main characters,” the killer declares, popping one of his pills before the truck arrives. Considering that people might get the wrong idea, he grabs a pen and writes the word ‘vitamins’ on the bottle. “You said you only feel alive when you’re in danger, but now you want things to be laidback. Pick one path or the other, kid, because you can’t have things both ways. Personally, I’d rather have an adventure because you only live once. Uh, what are we looking at and have we switched genres?”

The travelers are surprised by the short and skinny woman that gets out of the rattling tow truck. Her hair is styled in blue spikes with a metallic sheen to the gel that keeps them in place. A well-used pair of goggles hangs around her neck and there is a cross-emblazoned blowtorch on her belt, which makes her potential customers think of religious steampunk. Oil and grease are on her simple clothes, so the travelers figure she is a real mechanic and not a fake on the hunt for victims. It takes the woman only a second to see the problem and makes a silent prayer of thanks for finding some work. Smiling and stepping forward, she removes her thick gloves to shake Cassidy’s hand, but refuses to make the same offer to Lloyd.

“My name is Cami and I’m happy to help,” the woman declares as she goes to move the truck into position. “God is on my side and I’m sure he had us meet for a reason. The two of us will have you back on the road in no time.”

*****

The immaculate garage smells of oil and what the travelers are quickly told is a mild incense used by the local churches. Cami happily takes the simple payment from her customers and puts the rosary in a hook-filled cabinet, which is filled with more of the religious necklaces. There is a small bathroom that is as clean as the rest of the place and decorated with framed Bible verses. A locked door leads to the rest of the building, which Cami warns is her private home and only friends are allowed inside. The faint smell of cats surrounds the entrance and the occasional meow can be heard along with the animals hitting the handle. Every tool has a cross etched into it and the mechanic proudly explains that all of them have been blessed by a priest. Showing favoritism again, the woman lets Cassidy examine a ratchet set while repeatedly shifting things away from Lloyd. The only time she is social with the serial killer is when she makes a pot of coffee and gives him a cup. He is still banned from moving very far from a stool while the two women wander the garage to discuss the repairs.

“It’s only a tire replacement, so you should be good to go by the morning,” Cami says while straightening a picture of Jesus. Seeing a spot of dust on the frame, she searches for a clean rag to wipe it away. “I have everything here, but you should really get a feel for our city. I sense that you would enjoy it if given the chance. Many who step out of the heathen lands find solace within our borders. There is no fear of a violent death and all with evil hearts are dealt with before they can destroy our Eden.”

“Thanks, but I have to get to San Francisco,” Cassidy replies while sipping the barely palpable coffee. Worrying that the disappointment of her host will cause the repairs to take longer, she puts a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It isn’t that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing for us. You see this locket? My mother’s ashes are inside and her dying wish involves the Golden Gate Bridge. So this is about family and honoring the dead. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“That is an important journey,” the mechanic states, snapping her fingers at Lloyd before he can touch a wrench. She scowls at the man and hurries to make sure nothing has been moved while her back was turned. “Sorry for this, but I’m very particular about where my tools are and who can touch them. There is a darkness about you that makes me think you are an evil influence on the world. It would be rude for me to deny you help, yet I would appreciate it if you respect my boundaries.”