In The End: a pre-apocalypse novel (15 page)

“We need a guard shack at the
highway turn off,” he grumbled as Terry pulled the door open.

“Hello,” Terry said when he saw
Tori. He quickly glanced to the right and saw that they were alone and that
there was a new car in the parking lot. He looked down at Liz, smiling. “What’s
your name, sweetheart?”

“
Wizzabiff
,”
she replied.

Terry laughed and said, “Come
inside,
Wizzabiff
.”

Liz glared at him.

“It’s Elizabeth,” Tori clarified.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Won’t you
come in? I was just about to make breakfast. Are you hungry?” Liz didn’t
respond.

“Thank you so much, Mister…”

“My name is Terry. Terry
Stepp
. And this is my friend, Jim.” He realized that he
didn’t know Jim or Angela’s last names. “What’s your last name, Jim?”

Jim looked at Terry and said, “
Ecklund
.” Both of them tucked their guns into their
waistbands and covered them with their shirts as Tori and Liz came inside.

Terry shut the door and bolted it.
“You can have a seat at the table. I’ll have some food out in just a minute.
That’s Bo and Geraldine over there.” They were sitting up now and working out
kinks after sleeping on the wood floor.

Tori said, “Hello” and Liz just
glanced at them and stepped closer to her mother.

“Hello, child,” Geraldine said and
patted her hair with her hands, finding that the cloth napkin she had used as a
scarf had fallen back. She untied it, then replaced it on her head and tied it
again. “Where is your father?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Tori looked at the woman without
speaking. She didn’t like the look on the woman’s face and she didn’t think her
question was appropriate to be asking a little girl – especially one she didn’t
know.

“That’s really none of your
business,” Jim said on her behalf. Tori turned to Jim with gratitude in her
eyes. She walked over to him with Liz trailing close behind.

“Hi, Jim.
My name is Tori. And this is Liz.”  Jim shook Tori’s hand and then reached
down to shake Elizabeth’s hand, but she wrapped her arms around Tori’s leg.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tori and
Liz. Don’t worry about them. They’re leaving after breakfast.” Jim glanced at
Geraldine briefly.

Geraldine and Bo had moved to sit
on the hearth where they had sat the night before until Terry had brought
them
blankets and pillows from one of the lodge cabins.

“How long have you worked here, Mr.
Ecklund
?” Geraldine asked Jim.

“Why do you ask?” he responded,
matching her permanent scowl with one of his own.

“How about Mr.
Stepp
?
He said this is his place. I was just
wondering if he had any proof of that, like some identification. Because if
not, then I don’t see why my son and I should have to leave at all.”

“I think you should leave right
now,” Jim said.

“I think we should have a talk with
Mr.
Stepp
,” Geraldine replied.

Jim and Geraldine glared at each
other. Bo looked back and forth from his mother to Jim. Angela came walking
into the room and didn’t like the look on Jim’s face. She saw him glaring at
Geraldine and wondered what had happened now. Then she saw Tori and Liz and she
stopped.

“New people,” she said. Liz smiled
at Angela.

“Hi there, cutie.
What’s your name?” Angela walked to within a few feet of Liz and dropped to her
knees.

“
Wizzabiff
.”

“Well hello, Elizabeth. I’m so
happy to meet you. When did you get here?”

Liz looked up at her mother.

“Hi. I’m Tori – Liz’s mother. It’s nice
to meet you. But it looks like we came at a bad time.” She shifted her eyes
toward the hearth without moving her head. Angela nodded lightly.

“Why don’t you guys have a seat and
I’ll find us something to eat.” She looked at Liz. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

Liz nodded solemnly.

“Terry’s getting something,” Jim
said.

Angela walked over to Jim and
embraced him, whispering, “What’s going on?”

Jim whispered back, “They need to
leave before I lose it. I can’t take another minute of that hag.”

“Let’s see if Terry needs some help
bringing stuff out,” Angela said, pulling Jim with her to the kitchen. “We’ll
be right back,” she said, smiling at Tori and Liz.

Tori pulled two chairs out from the
table. She picked Liz up and deposited her in one of the chairs and scooted it
close to the table, then sat next to her. Their backs were to the hearth and
Tori felt like she was being rude, but she also felt that the woman had started
it.

Jim and Angela entered the kitchen
where Terry was trying to fit two boxes of cereal, six bowls, and a gallon of
milk on one serving tray.

“I totally forgot we had milk!”
Angela said.

“It was frozen, but it thawed out
while it rained. You guys left all of the new people out there alone?”

“I woke up from Jim raising his
voice to Geraldine, so I brought him back here to calm him down.”

“Don’t worry. I’m eating in the
kitchen. Terry, will you please take them away after they eat?” Jim glared at
the kitchen door as if he could see through it to where Geraldine was sitting.
“She wants proof that you own the resort. She thinks she’s staying.
Said we don’t have the right to make her leave.”

“Well, we don’t, technically
speaking, other than squatter’s rights. We were here first. Let me get this out
there and we’ll figure out how to get them to leave gracefully. Angela, could
you bring the milk?” He picked up the tray and headed toward the door. Angela
followed him out.

“They took my bowl,” Jim said to
himself. He waited and when the door to the kitchen opened, Angela came through
carrying two bowls and two spoons. He smiled at her and went to the pantry to
get another box of cereal. They sat down at a small table against a wall where
Terry’s radio played static noise at low volume.

Jim ate silently, still brooding
over Geraldine and the nerve of the woman. Why
would she
even want to stay in a place where she wasn’t welcome, he wondered.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance
of you and Geraldine working things out and starting over?”

Jim looked up at her with his head
over his bowl, spooning cereal into his mouth.

“I didn’t think so. We never really
considered this possibility – letting people in and then deciding they don’t
fit in with us very well.” Jim looked at her again. “Or not at all,” she
finished.

“That woman is a glaring example of
the worst that religion has to offer,” Jim finally said. “She buried her head
as far as she could into the bible, but she made sure not to let it get
anywhere near her heart.”

It was the mattress in the window that got Carl’s attention.
He knew he was close, but none of the cabins looked familiar. He and Trey had
only been here once, and Trey found that his key no longer worked. His father
changed the locks as he had threatened to do to keep Trey out.

When Carl saw the mattress in the
broken window, he slowed down and thought he recognized the place. He pulled
into the driveway, checked the blood on the diaper and was pleased to see that
the bleeding was still minor. He got out and walked up to the door. This was
definitely the place. He remembered the stupid little plaque attached to the
wall above the mailbox that said, “Thank you, Mr. Postman.”

He tried the door and found it
locked. He stepped over to the window and pushed the mattress. The top half
folded inward, but the bottom resisted and stayed in place. He put the bottom
of his boot low on the mattress and pushed forward. Now it moved. He kept
pushing at it until he created a gap big enough to fit through.

He climbed in the window and
sidestepped to the left until he was past the mattress and saw that a couch was
holding the mattress in place. Someone must’ve broken in and gotten creative to
keep the cold air out. The inside of the cabin was warm and there was a fire
burning.

He was suddenly alert realizing
that Trey could be here even though there wasn’t a car in the driveway. He
pulled the .22 from his pocket and looked around, listening for any signs of
occupancy. He could see the dining room to his left, so he stepped carefully
forward toward a doorway that would be the likely place for Trey to be
sleeping.

He crept up on the room and looked
inside. It was empty. This was where the mattress had come from. There was
another door adjacent to the front door. He walked slowly and quietly over to that
door and carefully turned the knob without making a sound. He raised his gun,
ready to fire and pushed the door open quickly.

Another empty
room.
He thought this one was probably a garage that got converted. It
looked like a taxidermy studio with stuffed real animals on display and a
workbench with a bunch of tools and supplies neatly lined up on it. Carl went
to the kitchen and confirmed that it was empty too.

A grocery sack on the table caught
his eye. He moved the sugar bowl off of it and read the writing.

Mom, Dad or Trey,

Liz and I were here. Sorry about the window.
We’re going to check out the Bunny Lodge for people and/or supplies.
Running out of food here.

We hope you’re all okay and we’ll see you soon!

Tori

Carl smiled an evil grin. He hadn’t
found Trey yet, but now he knew where to find his sister. That was even better.
Revenge was definitely going to be sweet now. He didn’t know her but he’d seen
her once as Trey argued with her outside of her work.

As he recalled, she was a hot
little number, and he thought she might be a nurse too. That would be perfect.
Carl started laughing, imagining how things could turn out. He’d get Tori to
take care of him, and then he’d take care of her.

“Oh boy.
You never should’ve fucked with me, Trey. Your sister is gonna pay for your
sins, you dumb bastard.” Carl laughed again, loving the way life surprised him
sometimes. He dropped the bag and went to the front door; unlocking it and
leaving it open as he walked out.

Damn. It was snowing again. Well,
at least he had a car with a roof now.
And windshield wipers.
He got in the car being careful with his shoulder and headed down the road back
to the highway.

Just when Carl started to doubt if
he actually knew where the Bunny Lodge was, he saw the sign for the resort with
an arrow pointing to the right. He took the turn a little too fast and the car
slid. He told himself to slow down. He was nearly there. He didn’t need to go
crashing the damn car now when he was so close to getting some payback.

The road was on an incline and he
lost traction occasionally but he regained it by letting up on the gas.
Fucking snow.
This resort would be a good place to wait out
the winter. Much better than the abandoned resort he usually crashed in when he
was on the mountain and had nowhere to go. Maybe he’d let Tori stay alive until
spring. She’d make a good bed warmer. Carl was smiling as he crested the hill
and made the turn into the parking lot. His smile disappeared when he saw two
cars and a truck already there.

He hadn’t thought about the
possibility of other people being at the lodge. That really fucked up his
plans, at least for the time being. He’d have to find out what the situation
was before he could plan his revenge and his fun. Maybe he’d be real lucky and
the place would be filled with women. He could have a harem for the winter.

He parked next to a faggot yuppie
car which made his station wagon look like the piece of shit that it was. He
told himself that it was possible that a rich bitch was driving the BMW. But if
it belonged to a man, it probably wasn’t one he needed to be too worried about.
He thought for a minute, preparing himself mentally for how he would approach
Tori and whoever was inside with her.

He tried to imagine himself feeling
sad and needing help; just a harmless guy who was wounded and scared and didn’t
have anywhere to turn; glad to have found people after what he’d been through.
Carl ran the scenario and the character through his mind for a moment longer,
then got out of the car and put the .22 in his right front pants pocket.

He walked slowly to the door,
trying to look wounded and weak in case anyone was watching him. He held his
left arm with his right hand and grimaced as if he was in pain. He actually was
in pain, but he focused on it and imagined that it was much worse than it was.
He knocked on the door without using much force.

“Is anybody there? I need help!” he
cried out in a voice higher pitched than normal.

Terry scooted his chair back and
rushed to the kitchen.

“We’ve got more company. Come on,”
Terry said poking his head into the kitchen,
then
he
let go of the kitchen door and went back into the main room. Jim got up and
went through the door after him.

“What do you mean? More?”

“Someone’s at the door.”

“Jesus Christ!”

Geraldine hissed as he walked past
her. “How dare you take His name in--?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jim growled.

Terry and Jim got into what had
become their standard positions at the door. They pulled their guns out and Jim
nodded at Terry, signaling that he was ready.

***

Trey slowed to a crawl as he carefully turned the big RV
into the driveway at his parent’s cabin. It was much too long and it stuck out
into the street, but he figured there wouldn’t be any traffic anyway, so he
didn’t worry about it. Besides, the fact that the driveway was empty almost
guaranteed that Tori wasn’t here, so they wouldn’t be staying long anyway.

Everything here looked wrong to
him. The front door was standing open and he could see snow covering the first few
feet of the floor inside the doorway. Plus someone had broken the big front
window. Was that a mattress? Trey didn’t like this. It was bad enough that
someone had broken in, but what had they done while they were in there? He and
Monica picked up their handguns from the center console and opened their doors.
Trey waited for Monica to come around to his side.

“I don’t like this. Stay behind me,
just in case.”

She raised her gun. “I’m armed too.
Don’t worry about me.”

Trey approached the doorway
cautiously.  He leaned in and looked around. Straight across from him he
could see the foot of the king size bed’s box spring. He went forward to look
in that room first. No one was in there. The blankets had been removed along
with the mattress.

He checked his dad’s work room. It
was empty and looked undisturbed. Who’d want to steal taxidermy stuff anyway,
he thought. There were embers burning in the fireplace. Someone was definitely
here not too long ago.

He went forward, turned right and
saw couch cushions on the dining room floor along with the blankets from the
bedroom. There was also an empty grocery sack on the floor. He went in a little
further and saw that the kitchen was empty.

“No one’s here. And I know my
parents didn’t do this. Someone broke in and stayed here for a while, but
they’re gone now.”

Monica looked in the kitchen and
saw a big metal pot on the floor half filled with water.

“Do you mind if we take that pot?
We can use it to melt snow in.”

“Go ahead. My folks ain’t gonna
miss it.”

Monica picked up the pot and poured
the water in the sink as Trey went back into the living room to puzzle over the
broken window, the couch and the mattress. As Monica left the kitchen she
stopped to pick up the paper sack and opened it to put the pot inside. She noticed
the writing on it.

“Trey, come here. Your sister left
a note!”

“What?” Trey rushed over and read
his sister’s writing on the sack. “She was here!” A smile lit up his face.
“She’s alive! Oh my God. She and Liz are okay. And they’re not far from here.
We gotta go find them.”

When they reached the turn for the
Bunny Lodge, Trey slowed the RV to a stop and looked deep in thought.

“What is it, Trey?”

“All the way from the cabin, we’ve
been following a single set of tracks, and they turn here, going to the lodge,
just like we are.”

“Well, yeah. They’re probably your
sister’s tracks.”

“My sister wasn’t the one who broke
into the cabin. She’d have the new key.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Someone could’ve come here
specifically looking for her. What if it was Carl who broke into the cabin,
looking for us?”

Monica’s mouth dropped open. “He
could have your sister!”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

***

Terry opened the door a little and peeked out through a one
inch gap. He saw a man standing there with a badly bruised face, looking like
he was in great pain. He pulled the door open wider.

“Thank you, sir. I need help. I’ve
been shot,” Carl said, turning to his right to show the bullet wound on the
left side of his back.

Terry looked back at Jim for his consent
to let the stranger in. Jim took a breath, puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled,
nodding and looking weary.

“Come inside,” Terry said, stepping
back to make room for the man to enter. “What happened to you?”

“I was mugged,” Carl said. He came
in, dragging his feet as though he barely had the strength to walk. As he
entered the lodge, he rapidly glanced around the room, taking in the occupants,
their genders, and the fact that the guy who opened the door and another,
younger guy were armed. Everyone but the two guys was sitting at a long dining
table, mostly near the center. He spotted Tori sitting next to a little kid.
“Does anyone here have any medical experience?”

Geraldine and Tori both got up and
came over to Carl who collapsed to his knees and reached out for the table to
keep from falling any further. Jim had seen Carl’s eyes darting around the room
and felt suspicious about him.

He may be wounded, but his mind is
alert and he knows exactly what he’s doing, Jim thought.

“My mother served in the WACS in
the Philippines. She taught me a lot of emergency first aid when she came
back,” Geraldine said.

Elizabeth tried to imagine a mother
in wax. She couldn’t do it.

“I’m a CNA and studying to be a
nurse,” Tori said.

“Bring us whatever first aid
supplies you have, and since I’m sure no one
has
a
forceps, maybe you can find a pair of needle-nose pliers. Alcohol too, if you
have any,” Geraldine said.

Jim asked Terry, “Do you have the
keys to the lounge?”

“No. They’re in the manager’s
office, hanging up.”

Jim left to get the keys and some
alcohol.

“Terry, can you boil a pot of water
as fast as you can?” Tori asked.

“Sure.” Terry trotted to the
kitchen.

As Jim came walking back through
the main room with the keys to the lounge, Geraldine asked if there was a table
or something elevated where they could lay Carl.

Jim said there was a large desk in
the manager’s office. “Just clear off the stuff and put him in there. Angela
can show you where it is.” Jim noticed that Geraldine seemed like a different
person now. She’s seems rather cheery now that there’s a crisis, Jim thought.

“Follow me. I’ll clear off the
desk,” Angela said, heading down the hall, passing the offices that Terry and
Jim used for bedrooms and turning into a room on the right that had a
gold-tinted plaque on the door that said MANAGER. She removed a desk blotter,
pen holder, stapler and phone, putting them all on the office chair and rolling
it back out of the way.

Carl walked in, supported on either
side by Geraldine and Tori. They walked him to the desk and Tori asked him to
lie face down. He did, feeling the discomfort of the gun in his pocket, but
there was nothing he could do about it yet.

“We’ll need to take off your
shirt,” Geraldine said. “You need to keep your left arm still. Angela, look in
the desk for some scissors.”

Angela pulled open the large center
drawer and found scissors in a plastic tray next to an
Exacto
knife. She handed the scissors to Geraldine who carefully cut away Carl’s
shirt.

Jim came in and put a bottle of
Seagram’s Seven and a bottle of Bacardi 151 on a filing cabinet. He couldn’t
believe that Geraldine frowned in disapproval at the bottles of alcohol, even
though she was the one who asked for them.  She’s crazy, he thought.