The Last Woman (All That Remains #1) (37 page)

“Very well.” Abraham regards
me with phony sympathy. “I realize this is an awkward situation for you, my
dear. There’s no need to rush.” With an oily smile, he closes the door behind
him.

“I didn’t know they’d make us
strip, Abby. You don’t have to do this,” Joseph mumbles.

I have to make this work. It’s
Joseph’s life at stake, and maybe mine and Airen’s as well. I’m haunted by the
cane marks on Troy’s back, and I can’t let that happen to Joseph. I unbutton my
shirt, sliding it off my shoulders, and slip off my sweat pants. Before he can
react, I pull his shirt over his head.

“Your pants,” I whisper. His
eyes never leave mine as he removes his pants and hands them to me. As
instructed, I toss the clothes out the door and close it, wishing it had a lock.
I feel extremely vulnerable in a bra and panties, while Joseph stands in front
of me in only a too large pair of boxers.

“Abby,” he whispers. His eyes
climb my body, shining with simultaneous desire and guilt.

“It’s just us,” I reply,
placing my hand on his chest while he rests his hands lightly on my hips. “Just
us,” I murmur, as I bring my lips to meet his. Oh, his lips are everything I
dreamed they would be, soft and full, gentle and warm. They fall on my cheek,
the corner of my mouth, and my jaw, before meeting my lips again.

I graze his lower lip with the
tip of my tongue, and he moans lightly, caressing my tongue with his. It’s a
long, sensual, scorching hot kiss that ignites the fire between us, glowing for
so long just under the surface. I forget where we are, and why we’re doing
this. He slips his hand under my bra and softly runs his fingers over my
nipple. My tongue explores every inch of his mouth while my hands run down his
bare back and beneath his waistband to squeeze his lovely behind.

He backs me toward the bed and
before I know it, I’m under his body, and he’s kissing down my neck as I run my
fingers through his curls, over his chest, and lower. He nudges my bra above my
breast, kissing and sucking until I moan. His hand slides down the front of my
panties, and he brushes me lightly, before pressing a finger inside me. I’m
lost in him, drifting in a billowing haze of bliss when I slip my hand beneath
his boxers, squeezing and rubbing firmly. He’s hard as a rock when he groans
and flexes his hips, pressing himself against me.

I come to my senses, but it
takes every ounce of my self-control to stop touching him. “Go, Joseph,” I
breathe. “You have to go and show him. I’m sorry.”

With an agonized groan, he
pulls away from me and reluctantly knocks on the door before stepping into the
hallway. I attempt to slow my breathing, immediately overcome by guilt. We got
caught up in it so quickly, and Airen never entered my mind. Would I have
thought of him eventually? If the situation had been different, would I have
continued and cheated on him?

I sit up quickly as a young
girl enters with my clothes. “Get dressed. I’m supposed to walk you back to
your quarters.”

“What about Joseph?” I ask
fearfully, as I dress.

“They want to talk to him. He’ll
be back later.”

My hands shake as I slip on my
shoes. What are they doing to him? He passed their stupid test. I felt it.

“Are they punishing him?” I
squeak, so terrified of the answer.

“No, we’d hear him if they
were,” she replies matter-of-factly. My heart drops into my stomach.
Joseph
.
By the time we get to the stable, I can’t restrain my panic any longer. As soon
as the door shuts behind me, Airen is at my side.

“What happened? Why are you
crying? Did they hurt you?” he demands.

I shake my head miserably.
“They kept Joseph, and I don’t know why. He passed their test, Air, but they
didn’t bring him back,” I sob.

Troy approaches me. “He’s
okay, Abby. They aren’t hurting him. Being with you was just the first part of
their test. They also show him pictures and videos.”

“Videos of what?” snaps Airen.

“Naked men, gay porn. He has
to show he is
only
turned on by women,” he whispers, embarrassed.

I curl up on my side on my cot,
emotionally exhausted, churning with guilt, fear, and hopelessness. Airen sits
beside me and rubs my back. We don’t speak. There is nothing either of us can
say.

It seems like an eternity
before Joseph returns. His face is red as he glances at me and makes a beeline
for his cot. Airen shakes his head when I start toward him. “Let me talk to him.”
They spend a few minutes together, speaking in hushed tones before Joseph rolls
on his side to face the wall, and Airen joins me.

“Is he okay?” I whisper.

Airen’s dark eyes shine in the
moonlight that streams through the window. The corner of his mouth is tucked
in, and he sighs deeply before responding. “It’s like Troy said, they showed
him videos of men, but he didn’t react. He passed their goddamned test, but he’s
hurt, humiliated. To have to go through so much to deny who you are,” he whispers,
shaking his head. “Leave him alone for a little while. He needs some space.”

“Is he upset with me?”

“Of course not. He feels
guilty, like he’s causing problems between us.”

“It’s not going to cause a
problem is it?” I ask fearfully. “What they made us do?”

“No, sweetheart. We don’t have
to talk about it. I don’t need details. You saved Joseph from being tortured or
worse. Hell, I’d sleep with him to prevent that from happening.”

“Now, there’s a picture.” I
giggle, and he gives me a small smile.

“Hush.”

“I didn’t sleep with him.”

“I know.”

“We need a plan.”

“Maybe it’ll come to us in our
sleep.”

I wake in the middle of the
night to the sound of someone crying, softly. As my eyes adjust, I see Joseph
sitting on his bunk with Troy’s arm around him while Troy comforts him in a low
voice. “I know it hurts. No matter how the world changes it seems this hate
will never be behind us, but it’s not you. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s
them, Joseph. Don’t let them get into your head. Don’t let them change who you
are.”

“I denied it,” Joseph moans,
ashamed. “I pretended to be disgusted by the insinuation.”

“You should have denied it,
Joseph. I’d swear the earth is flat if it prevents us from being tortured.”

“I swore to myself I’d never
be ashamed of it again and never hide it from anyone. I told Abby and Airen
right away and took a chance they’d throw me out.”

“And they didn’t care, did
they? Abraham and the rest of them are crazy, disturbed people. You have to
play along, play their game, beat them by surviving. Don’t be ashamed of what
you have to do to stay alive.”

Joseph nods reluctantly. “You
didn’t hide your sexuality from them.”

Troy snorts. “I tried like
hell to hide it, man. I failed their test. Both parts,” he adds, raising his
eyebrows comically.

“I’m bisexual. I guess that
helped,” Joseph admits with a smile.

“Cheater,” Troy teases. They both
laugh, and Troy returns to his cot.

When I shift my head to
Airen’s shoulder, his eyes are open. He’s been listening as well. “Troy isn’t
one of them,” I whisper, and he nods in agreement.

“There’s something I need to
show you,” Troy announces the next morning. He motions for Joseph to follow
him, and Airen is hot on his heels. I catch up to them as Joseph moves a stack
of pallets aside. Behind them is a warped and slightly rotted board, hiding a
dip in the ground where Troy has obviously been digging. “I’ve been sawing
through the plank for the last few days.” He produces a small pocket knife. “If
we can break it off, I can get under it, and unchain the door. If we’re fast,
we may make it before they see us. This side of the stable faces away from the
house.”

Airen immediately takes the
knife and begins sawing at the wood.

“If they catch us, we’re all
dead,” Troy warns.

“Then listen for them,” Airen
commands.

Airen, Joseph, and Troy spend
the rest of the day taking turns with the knife. We listen, ready to replace
the pallets at a moment’s notice. It’s late when they agree to stop for the
night. Their hands are raw from forcing the small, dull knife through the
stable wall, and they have scarcely made a dent.

“Tomorrow,” Airen whispers in
my ear as we curl up on his cot. I nod and fall into a deep sleep.

Troy

“Troy, wake up,” she whispers.
Jennifer is crouched beside my cot. “It’s time.”

I can’t believe I fell asleep.
Joseph, Airen, and Eric are standing in the shadows, waiting. Airen insisted
that Abby be kept out of our plan.

“She’d never go along with
killing so many people,” he assured us, and Joseph agreed. She’s asleep on her
cot as Airen, Eric, Jennifer, and I quietly slip out of the stable. Joseph
remains behind with her, in case she wakes.

Jennifer and Eric have been
plotting and planning this for months, the knife was my pathetic attempt at a
backup plan. Jennifer flashes Eric a tight, nervous grin as she hands him a gas
can. We each take two five gallon containers filled with gasoline, and Eric doles
out packs of matches.

“Troy, go with Jennifer, she
knows where to spread the fuel. Come with me, Airen,” he orders. Jennifer leads
the way as we dowse every exit and window on the back side of the house while
Airen and Eric do the same to the front. We want to be sure no one comes out
alive.

As soon as the gas is spread,
Jennifer pulls out a pack of matches. Before she can strike it, she’s tackled
at the waist by a dark figure. She shrieks when he pins her down and holds a
knife to her throat. It’s Cole. Fuck! I don’t even have a weapon. I straddle
them both and lock my arm around Cole’s neck, efficiently cutting off his
oxygen, but he sinks the knife into her throat before scrabbling to remove my
arm from his neck.

“No!” My vision wavers at the
sight of blood spraying from her throat.

“Don’t you let him go,” she
croaks, blood pouring through her fingers as she tries to hold it in.

“Jennifer,” I whisper,
horrified. She’s fading.

“Hurry, light it.
Light it
,”
she chokes out the words through the blood filling her mouth. I watch as the
light fades from her eyes. Cole slashes at my arm, cutting it to ribbons, but I
hardly feel it. Finally, finally he goes limp, and I release my grip on him,
snatching the knife from his hand as he crumples to the ground. I don’t
hesitate before plunging the blade into his heart.

“Oh, Jennifer, I’m so sorry,”
I mutter as I remove the matches from her hand and close her eyes gently before
dashing to ignite the pools of gas. Surely, they have heard us by now, and I
wonder how Eric and Airen are coming along with their part. I run faster than I
ever have in my life, the flames erupting behind me.

When I round the corner onto
the front lawn, Eric leaps from the second story, and I’m stunned to learn he
has set the roof on fire behind him. Airen throws a burning book of matches
onto the porch, and it flares up, instantly engulfed.

“Jennifer?” Eric asks, trying
to catch his breath.

I shake my head. “It was Cole.
I killed him, but I wasn’t quick enough. I’m sorry.”

He nods and gestures toward
Airen. “It’s time to get Abby and Joseph and get the hell out of here.”

I sit up groggily. “What’s
going on?”

“Shh, Abby, come with me.”
Joseph pulls me to my feet before my eyes are completely open. “Put your shoes
on,” he orders in a hushed voice.

“Where’s Airen? And Troy?” I
ask when I realize we’re alone in the stable.

“They’re coming. We have to be
ready to run when they do.” His eyes are wide and terrified, his hand shaking
in mine.

“The gun!”

“Airen has it.”

“They got out!” I exclaim,
still trying to piece together what the hell is going on. Joseph stands in
front of me as the door swings open, releasing his breath when he sees Airen
and Troy.

“It’s done. Let’s go!” Airen shouts.

What is done? What have they
been doing? Oh Shit! I smell smoke! I freeze in terror when I see one of the
men from the house. I don’t know who he is, but he was with Abraham.

Airen follows my gaze. “He’s
on our side. He let us out,” he explains, grabbing my hand as we move around
the building that has been our prison for the past few days and Troy’s for
nearly a year. I stop, horror struck, when I realize where the smoke is coming
from. The enormous house is engulfed in flames!

“Airen,” I whimper in
disbelief.

“We had to do it, Abby. Just
keep moving. We don’t know how many of them may have made it out.”

No sooner did the words leave
Airen’s lips, than Joseph shouts, “Troy! Behind you!”

Troy ducks just in time as
Abraham swings a baseball bat at his head.

“Take her somewhere safe!”
Airen shouts at Eric, who grasps my arm. I start to shake my head, but Airen
grabs my face. His eyes are fierce. “Now, Abby! Hide!”

I do what I’m told. There’s no
time to think as Eric tugs me into a copse of trees, and we burrow into the
underbrush. I’m shaking while I watch the horror playing out before me in the
abandoned farmyard. Bloodcurdling screams emanate from the house, now an
inferno. The flames turn night to day and throw an eerie glow on the fight for
survival between the four men.

Troy manages to duck the bat
the first time, but it catches him on his right side when Abraham swings again.
Joseph catches the end of the bat, but Abraham jams it into his stomach, dropping
him to his knees. Airen fires the gun and Abraham’s knee cap shatters in a
spray of blood and bone as he goes down screaming. Airen aims again.

“No!” Troy shouts. “We had a
deal!” He stumbles to Airen, holding his injured ribs, and Joseph gets to his
feet to join them.

They surround him, and I
imagine what it must look like from Abraham’s perspective. The three men
hovering over him, faces alight in the glow of the flames, must seem to be
devils incarnate, here for him at last. Airen gives the gun to Troy, who
accepts it with shaking hands.

“Brother Troy, please,”
Abraham begs.

Troy shakes his head, laughing
bitterly. “Now I’m worthy of being called Brother?”

“I was trying to save you.”

Troy’s face blooms a bright
red as he screams. “You beat me! You burned me and starved me and tortured me
for months! You sick, fucking bastard! You killed Micah!” he screams with all
his might.

“Please, don’t. Please.”
Abraham crawls to Troy’s feet.

“I should fuck you.”  Troy’s
eyes flash, and Abraham’s jaw drops in horror. Troy leans down and grips his
hair. “I should fuck you on your hands and knees and make you beg for more.”

Abraham’s face is stone white.
“Please, just kill me, shoot me,” he begs in a trembling voice.

“Now, where have I heard that
particular request before?” Troy’s smile is bitter as he jerks Abraham’s pants
and underwear down, baring his ass to the night air. “You may like it,” he
croons cruelly, and Abraham shrieks in terror.

Oh God, I can’t watch this.
Abraham sobs and babbles unintelligibly.

“I wouldn’t fuck you with a
stolen dick, you hateful, bigoted whore,” Troy says, staring at him in disgust.
Grabbing him by his hair, he jerks him to his knees and screams, “Kneel!” Circling
to look him in the eye, he points the gun at Abraham and draws a deep breath,
steadying himself. “Micah,” he declares and fires two bullets into Abraham’s
chest. After handing the gun to Airen, he walks away silently and slumps
against a tree, burying his face in his arms.

With the last of his strength,
Abraham reaches toward Joseph. Blood pours from his mouth. “Please, help me.”

A look of disgust crosses
Joseph’s face, and he kicks his hand away. “My husband’s name was Tim,” he
announces, quickly stepping back as Abraham collapses face first in the dirt.

I look around frantically, but
it doesn’t appear anyone else escaped the fire. Troy stumbles to his feet and
suddenly bends at the waist, grasping his knees, and retching repeatedly.

“Abby!” Airen calls, his head
whipping back and forth. Eric and I crawl out from beneath the underbrush, and
he runs to me.

“I’m okay, Air, I’m fine,” I
assure him. He holds me tight, his body trembling. “Breathe, Airen. Breathe, baby…it’s
over,” I whisper.

Silence settles over our
little band of survivors as we survey the grisly scene before us. The house is
blazing, completely enveloped in flames. Blood is everywhere, and Abraham’s
body, half-naked and bloody, the moonlight shining on his bare ass, is a
gruesome sight to behold. These images will forever be imprinted on my brain.
There will be endless nights I’ll revisit this moment in my nightmares and
wake, sweating and shaking, expecting to see the stable walls. The smell of
smoke will bring me back to hear the screams and witness the horrific scene,
too many times to count.

“I want to get out of here!”
Troy blurts.

“Good idea,” Joseph agrees.

After we walk for nearly an
hour, Troy mumbles, “Where are we going?”

“We should put some distance
between the fire and us before we find a house and rest,” Airen replies.

“I killed them. I killed them
all.” Troy’s voice is flat, entirely devoid of emotion, and Airen throws a
worried glance in his direction.

“He would’ve killed you
eventually, Troy. He planned on it, and he was already comparing Airen to Micah
as well,” Eric says.

My breath catches, and Airen’s
arm slips around my waist. “I’m right here,” he murmurs.

Joseph falls in step with Troy
and grasps his hand as they walk. “You saved yourself and all of us. Abby’s
pregnant. What kind of monster do you think they would’ve turned the baby into,
if they had let it live at all?”

Troy glances at me in
surprise, and I nod. “I’m sorry you had to do that, Troy. I know how it feels
to take a life, and I can never thank you enough.” His lips press together, and
tears trace clean lines down his dirty face. “That goes for you too, Eric. I
can’t imagine what you must’ve risked to rescue us, and I’m so sorry about Jennifer.”

“She’d be happy we got away,
at least.”

“Why weren’t they armed?” I
ask. “Cole and Abraham, why weren’t they armed when they escaped the fire?”

“Jennifer and I hid the guns
in the basement before we unchained the stable doors. We were betting they wouldn’t
have time to find them,” Eric explains.

“Why not just shoot them
then?”

“We may have been able to
shoot a couple of them, but as soon as we fired a shot the others would’ve
attacked us. This was the safest way.”

Troy continues to walk with
Joseph. “We also have three kids at home waiting for their parents to return,”
Joseph says, going on to explain about our home, the kids, and Julie. By the
time we stop to rest in a small house off of the highway, Troy seems to be in
better spirits.

We don’t remain in the house
for long. Airen and Joseph commandeer a truck from a dealership nearby. We’re
lucky Joseph knows the area. He leads us to a department store where we replace
our clothing and gear we left at the hotel when they grabbed us. None of us
wishes to return there.

Joseph protests when Airen
asks for directions to his house. “Forget it. Let’s just go home. The kids and
Julie must be worried sick. I never should’ve let you do this in the first
place. I put us all at risk.”

“Are you out of your damn mind?
After everything we went through to get here? Besides, this wasn’t your idea.
We can blame Abby and her pregnancy hormones.” He grins.

 I smack him, and he squeezes
my knee.

Joseph agrees, and we reach
his place in less than an hour. Eric waits in the truck while the rest of us
enter the home where Joseph lived with his husband and boys. His reaction rips
my heart to shreds. He holds up admirably while he collects pictures and
mementos and boxes them up to take with him, but he loses his tenuous grip when
he opens the door to Mason’s room.

It’s the quintessential little
boy’s room, featuring a set of dark wooden bunk beds made up with Spiderman
bedding. Toys are scattered about, and a large stuffed dog stands in the
corner, as if guarding the room until Joseph could return. Nothing has been
disturbed. You could almost expect a small dark haired, brown eyed boy to come
bounding in, all smiles.

“Oh God, Mason!” Joseph’s cry
of despair is that of a wounded animal. He falls to his knees and holds a small
pillow to his face. “It still smells like him,” he sobs. His heartbreak and
anguish over his lost son is a terrible thing to witness. There isn’t a dry eye
in the room. “Please! I just want to see him one more time!” he cries, his
grief crushing him.

“Joseph,” I murmur, softly. We
shouldn’t have come.

“No, I can’t. I can’t take
anymore.” He collapses on Mason’s bed, weeping into his pillow with abandon.
His body is wracked with sobs, shaking the bed, and I don’t know what to do or
say. I don’t know how to comfort someone experiencing pain I’ve never even come
close to suffering.

Airen steps toward him and
whispers, “Abby, you and Troy wait for us downstairs.” As we leave, Airen pulls
Joseph’s head into his lap and talks to him quietly, trying to calm him. I remember
him doing the same for me a lifetime ago. Nearly an hour later they emerge from
the bedroom and make their way downstairs. Joseph’s face is swollen and red,
and he’s carrying the stuffed dog that belonged to Mason.

“Everything you packed is in
the truck, sweetie. Is there anything else you want to take?” I ask. He shakes
his head. We’re the last two out of the house. He stops in the foyer and looks
back.

“Goodbye, my boys. I’ll never
forget you. I’ll love you forever,” he whispers.

I take his hand as we cross
the porch. “Are you all right?”

“I will be.”

The stuffed dog rides with him
and Airen in the back seat. We haven’t gone five miles before he’s asleep with
his face buried in it, in the scent of his lost little boy. We’re silent while
I drive from side-street to highway to side-street, dodging the worst of the
pile ups. We’re all contemplating the things we’ve lost. I’ve never wanted to
see Carson so badly in my entire life, but we won’t make it back today.

We stop for the night in a
furniture store where there are plenty of couches and beds to choose from.
Airen lights the lanterns, and I prepare some dinner, though no one really has
an appetite.

Eric hasn’t said two words
since we left Joseph’s place. He’s brooding silently, and I assume he’s afraid
of what we may think of him, even though he assisted in our escape. He glances
around the room. “I need to explain why I was with those people,” he blurts out.

Eric is a tall guy, probably
six foot four, and slim. He has hair so blonde it’s nearly white, and his pale
blue eyes are slightly magnified behind a pair of wire eyeglasses.

Troy nods at him. “We’re
listening.”

“Abraham and Cole were the
first people I met after the sickness took everyone. I was basically wandering
around searching for survivors, other people that weren’t good enough for God
to take.”

I don’t like where this is
going. We can’t bring a zealot back to our home.

“Why did you think that was
what the plague had done?” Troy asks.

“My father was a minister. I
was always taught the day would come when the righteous would be saved and the
heathens left behind. I quit going to church the day I turned eighteen, and
they never failed to remind me hell was waiting for me. After everyone died but
me, I assumed they were right.”

“So that makes it okay to
kidnap and torture people?” Airen demands.

“Air! Stop. Let him finish,” I
scold. If anyone has the right to demand answers it’s Troy, not Airen.

Eric continues, a look of
dismay on his face. “No, of course not. I never participated in the kidnapping,
and I certainly never tortured anyone. Believe me, it didn’t please Abraham when
I refused. I’m not sure how much longer they would’ve kept me alive.”

“You brought me painkillers
and water,” Troy says.

“I wanted to help you, Troy. I
swear I did. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep them from hurting you.”