Paco looks at Jess and then back to me. “Up on that hill, you don’t remember shooting…”
“Hey, dumbass, it’s not their fault we stopped feeding them,” I say.
He looks like he’s about to say something more but then lets it go. I don’t get Paco. I don’t think he’s recovered from that zombie biker; he’s till scared and trying to cover it up by being an even bigger asshole than usual. I’m not sure he’s any more rational than Jess is. Thank God she doesn’t know he was the one that put her sister down.
I’ve decided Paco is weak and dangerous.
“Fuck you,” he shouts.
This is turning into a cluster.
“Hey, Paco, I like dogs — I can’t say the same for you. Stop being a dick,” I say.
He bristles and takes a step toward me.
I watch his gun, but he doesn’t raise it. And that’s a good thing because it keeps him breathing — I don’t have the same conscience when it comes to shooting him.
Dante grabs him and pulls him back by his coat. “Come on, man, we gotta work together. We can’t be fighting.”
Paco breaks free. “I’m on to you, pendejo!”
He’s one misstep, one fuck up from dead. He’s trying to prove something, to me or to himself, I can’t tell which, instead of keeping an eye on what’s coming. Paco is as good as dead right now.
I ignore him and reload my .45.
“Dante,” I say, getting his attention, “guard the woods. We don’t need Scooby-Doo and his pals surprising us.”
He nods and shoves Paco toward the woods.
Jess is standing in front of Ronny, almost, but not quite sobbing — this is some other release. I think she’s slowly breaking.
But then, there’s so much in us to break. It never ends, it’s like a bottomless pit of shit. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it. Just when you think you’ve been pushed beyond the bearable — like Ronny — Fate throws something else at us, forcing us to play Her fucking game.
I pull my knife out of my backpack and walk past Jess. She looks at me, following my movements, but her expression is blank. I hold up my knife for a moment and then cut Ronny’s bindings. Tristan sees what I’m doing and rushes over to keep Ronny from spilling out all over the ground.
We gently lower him.
His clothes are all that’s holding him together.
Christ, what a mess.
I’m not sure we can dig a grave deep enough to keep the dogs out, but maybe we don’t have to. It’s like that day with Denise and the mattress — the solution doesn’t have to be permanent, just the best we can do for now — a lie we tell ourselves that everything is going to be okay.
Ain’t that right, Lisa?
The rain has soaked everything, including us. We’ll never get a fire going. Cremation is out of the question.
“Can we get out of the rain?” Tammy asks. Her red hair is dark now, hanging in her face. She looks like a drowning kitten.
“Where would that be?’ Tristan answers. He’s pissed — definitely not a volunteer.
There’s as much tension in the air as there is rain.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming myself. Just get this done and get back to Sam and Emily. I doubt the kids are still alive anyway. This isn’t a rescue, it’s a confirmation.
“Jess?” I ask, but she’s not here right now. She’s staring through Ronny to somewhere else. “Jess!” I shout and touch her shoulder.
Awareness slowly fills her eyes, turning her blank stare into the familiar glare of hatred, but there’s something else there now — hope?
“We’ll bury Ronny.” I glance at Tammy and think about getting out of the rain, but at this point — fuck it. “Do you know how far it is?”
The hatred fades and she shakes her head.
“Okay, do you know which way it is?”
She shakes her head again.
I’m beginning to get a bad feeling about this trip, and I’m getting pissed.
“Jess? Why are we here?” I ask.
Tammy and Tristan seem to clue into our conversation for the first time. Both of them give Jess a concerned look.
Tristan rolls his eyes and turns away. “What the hell…”
“What?” Tammy asks and follows him. “What?” Her voice goes up an octave like it did outside the video store.
“That bitch doesn’t know where those kids are. She dragged us out here for God knows why,” Tristan says with disgust.
I wipe the water from my face and search her face, trying to find the hidden truth. “Is that true, Jess?” I ask as calmly as possible.
She shakes her head no, but she seems distracted. She keeps looking around the clearing like she’s trying to sort out a puzzle.
The afternoon is growing darker while we stand here.
Paco walks back over. “What’s the holdup? Those dogs are going to be back anytime.”
“No shit,” Dante grunts. “I don’t like dogs…”
Jess turns and walks across the clearing, stopping in front of the stump and drops to her knees. She ignores Ronny’s blood and begins to scoop out leaves and dirt and what looks like years of decay with her bare hands, and then she digs her fingers in deeper and deeper, throwing back gooey clods of soil and muck, faster and faster until she’s in a frenzy.
What’s she digging for?
And then she reaches a layer of branches that are spread across the crevice in the tree like a lattice. I notice a dark spot near the top, an opening into the middle of the tree, just below where we pulled Ronny down. Her arms and hands are covered with his blood and mud now, the rain unable to wash it away.
This is getting gruesome.
Behind the branches is a moss-covered and rotting log. She begins leveraging it out of the opening even as she begins to beg, “Please, please, please.”
That’s not right. A log would only have moss on it if it were out on the forest floor.
At first, she calls softly, and then louder and more desperate until she’s shrieking. “Please!”
“Shut her up,” Dante shouts as he takes a step toward her.
I just stare at him and he backs off. I’m not sure what’s up, but it’s not just crazy.
“Jem!” she shouts.
She stops and begins to sob. “Jem!”
Everyone is silent.
The only sound in the clearing is the splattering of the rain and Jess’ panting desperation.
Jess stands up and I can see whatever hope she had fade as her shoulders droop in defeat, her muck-covered hands falling to her sides as she loses it and begins to just kick at the debris in the crevice.
And then I notice the claw marks in the dirt along the edges and on the roots of the stump. The dogs weren’t just chewing on Ronny, they were digging to get — to get where, to get what?
I shove Jess out of the way and peer inside, but it’s too dark to see anything. I pull another leafy branch from the opening and toss it aside.
I lean in closer.
And then the lightning returns, turning the night into day.
A small, blood-smeared face with dark, haunted eyes stares back at me.
Jesus Christ!
“Help me,” I shout and begin tearing at the rest of the debris covering the opening.
Dante and Tristan are the only ones that step forward. I can’t worry about the others, not now.
Soon we have the cleft in the stump cleared enough to reveal three, little, dark-haired girls. A baby is sleeping in the arms of a four or five-year-old, and then the last girl, the one with the haunted eyes is maybe Emily’s age. They’re all dressed in summer shirts and pants, covered in Ronny’s blood. They’re soaking wet and shivering in the cold.
They look as terrified as anyone I’ve seen since the world went to shit.
I’m not sure they could see his tortured death or the dogs, but they heard it — there’s no doubt ab
out that.
They’re beyond traumatized.
“Jem!” Jess shouts and rushes back and grabs the older child, hugging her fiercely — but the girl is stiff, almost catatonic. Jess seems oblivious. She lets go of the girl and scoops up the baby.
The other girl stands up slowly and rubs her legs like they’ve gone numb, leaving trails of bloody handprints down her thighs.
Jess holds the child tight and suddenly turns on us — like the cornered dogs from minutes ago.
So this is why Jess lied about knowing where the kids are. She just needed to get back here. Fair enough. But why didn’t she just tell us? I guess there was no reason to trust us, but this was a long shot. What if we hadn’t decided to help them?
Tristan looks nervous. “What the hell is going on, who are they?” he asks, pointing at the kids.
“Who are they, Jess?” I ask.
“My sisters and…” She kisses the baby on the forehead and then shields her from the rain as best she can.
“Daughter?” I ask.
She ignores the questions and closes her eyes, repeating some prayer. I hear Abby a few times.
“You hid them before the guys with the masks got here, before they took the other kids?” I ask.
She opens her eyes and then nods.
“We need to get back.” Dante’s pissed. “I knew this was a fool’s trip.”
“We just saved three little kids,” Tammy shouts at him angrily, “There’s nothing foolish about that!”
“Jess?” I ask, trying to get her attention again.
“What?” she says defensively, clutching tighter at her baby.
The other girls are standing against the tree, near the opening. The younger one is looking at the older one, questioningly.
The older one’s just staring vacantly into the surrounding woods.
“The guys that did this, which way did they come from, or go — when they left, just point,” I say.
Jess shrugs.
The oldest girl looks up, staring at me. She reminds me of Emily, except I think she’s seen worse. Her eyes are…a chill runs down my spine.
Jesus, she’s all fucked up.
She points in the direction the dogs ran in.
“They went that way or came from that way?” Dante asks.
She just nods.
Great.
“Let’s get going,” I say.
“What about the dogs?” Tristan asks.
“What about them?” I respond as I chamber a round in my .45.
“We’re still going?” Tammy asks, confused.
“We’re going in that direction, because it’s the direction we need to go, regardless, I mean, if we’re going to get to Freemont that is. Or do you want to run back the long way, Tammy? You’d probably make it, I’m not so sure about the rest of us — long trip.”
She shakes her head.
Now we have three kids to take care of too. This rescue mission is going from bad to worse.
The other two kids keep staring at Jess. There’s something here, more fear, worry — dread?
And then Abby’s arm slips out of the filthy, once pale yellow blanket. Jess goes to bundle her up again, but…
The baby isn’t crying.
Jess holds Abby out and stares at her as the blanket falls away. The baby is wearing one of those all in one overall things. She looks like she’s sleeping, until her head lolls forwards. Jess’ eyes widen and then she falls to her knees and chokes back a sob before dry-heaving for air, choking on nothing, and then — she screams.
She crumples over Abby’s little body, curling up around her, wailing and screaming incoherently, kicking the mud and cursing God.
All I can think of is exposure, but it doesn’t seem that cold, even if she was wet.
“We need to shut her up,” Dante shouts at me.
“No,” I say. I can’t shoot this girl, this child mother.
“Oh my God, is she dead?” Tammy asks.
“She’s gonna…” Paco begins but Tristan pulls him back before I have to shut him up.
After a few minutes Jess grows quiet and then looks up to me, as if I can do something — like Denise did, like there’s hope; and then she turns slowly and looks to the other kids.
She crawls to her knees, refusing to let go of her child. “What did you do?” Jess shrieks at them.
They jump.
The younger one presses back against the tree and begins to cry, but the older one meets her gaze — defiant.
Jess scrambles to her feet, clutching at the dead child and shouts at her sisters again. “What did you do?”
“Nothing, it was an accident,” the younger one says. She’s crying, her chest begins to heave in great gasping sobs.
“What was an accident?” Jess asks.
“We didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what? Jackie! What did you do?”
“It wasn’t me, it was Jasmine,” she says pointing at the older girl. “But she didn’t mean it, it was an accident…”
“Jem? Please…” Jess’ tone is whining now, pleading.
Jem, that must be her nickname, looks away, refusing to acknowledge her older sister.
Jess steps in front of Jem and then grabs her by the shoulder and shakes her, shoving her back against the tree hard.
She cries out in pain and fear, but Jess doesn’t seem to care right now.
“What did,” Jess shouts again and slaps Jem hard enough to send her to her knees, “you do?”
“Nothing,” Jem screams, covering her head as Jess begins to pound the little girl, Abby’s little head flopping with every punch.
I step forward and grab Jess and pull her away, holding her arms against her sides, careful of Abby.
Jem looks up from the mud, her tears mixing with the rain and Ronny’s blood running down her face. “You said to be quiet, you said to stay…I did what you told me to…”
“You killed Abby!” Jess shrieks and kicks at her sister but I pull her further away.
Tristan and Tammy finally step over and hold her.
And then Jem grabs onto the tree stump and pulls herself to her feet. Her My Little Pony t-shirt is soaked, and she must be freezing but she doesn’t show it. She glares up at Jess. “She was sick or scared or hungry.”
“So?” Jess screams back.
“She wouldn’t be quiet. You told us to be quiet,” she shouts angrily.
“But…”
“Why did you leave us? Why did you make me…why?” Jem’s defiance is slowly fading. “She wouldn’t be quiet, they were hurting Ronny, he was crying and screaming and Abby, she was crying too…I just held her mouth for a little bit, not long…I didn’t think it was very long, but…she wouldn’t be quiet…you told us to be quiet, you said…don’t let them hear you.”
Jem drops back to her knees.
Christ.
She suffocated her baby niece to keep from being discovered. And they’ve been hiding in the hollow of this tree since yesterday, with a dead kid and their brother’s blood dripping down on them from above.
What a nightmare.
I walk past Jess, reach down, and lift Jem to her feet. She’s not afraid of me even though I’m a total stranger. I wonder which way she’s going to go — disappear inside herself in fear or…be like me?
“Murderer,” Jess whispers, pointing at Jem as she drops to her knees.
Shit.
Now we have two bodies to deal with.
I’m trying to decide what to do when I notice movement off to my right. I pull my.45 and shift my weight to a shooter’s stance, searching for the new target.
It’s not hiding.
It’s a white puppy, sitting back on its haunches, tongue lolling, ignoring the rain — just watching.
It’s about the size of a basketball.
I slowly walk over, afraid I’m going to spook it, but it just continues to watch me.
“Dude…” Paco shouts at me, “It’s one of…”
I ig
nore him and keep walking.
The puppy has tags and a collar. Maybe it’s used to people.
I kneel down in front of the puppy when it shifts focus, looking beside me. I glance over to see Jem kneeling beside me.
I reach into my pack and grab a can of Spam and open it. As soon as the seal is broken the dog is on its feet, head cocked, inquisitive eyes staring into mine. I pinch off a small piece of Spam and hand it to Jem.
“Abby is dead and you’re feeding a dog?” Jess screams at me.
Tammy shouts at her, “Shut up.”
“Dude, what the fuck? We don’t have time for this shit,” Dante shouts.
I ignore them all.
The puppy slowly steps forward and takes the offered Spam from Jem. It's got blue-white eyes and looks like it’s going to grow up to be one of those wolf-dogs from earlier. I scratch behind its ears and the puppy falls, rolling onto his…make that her back.
I rub her belly and her hind leg begins to kick.
Jem grins at me, her tears still not dry.
I feed the puppy a little more and she rolls back over.
“Can we keep her?” Jem asks. I’m not sure if what she did, or what happened to her niece is registering yet, maybe she’s in denial, coping — then again, maybe she’s just become a sociopath.
“Maybe, it’s up to her. Just don’t name…”
“Pixie! That’s her name, Pixie!” Jem shouts.
Fuck it.
§§§§§
We find enough stones to fill in the hollow of the tree stump, and turn it into a makeshift mausoleum. We’re hoping it’s dog-proof, animal-proof, fuck — shame-proof. It’s not much to give Ronny and Abby, but it’s all we’ve got.
It’s still raining.
Everyone is miserable and exhausted.
We set out as night fell, following the higher-ground spine of the valley, curving back south and pushing forward through the forest toward Freemont. We’re over fifty miles out, but since we have no choice but to abandon the rescue mission, we should beat the caravan there.
The dogs are following us at an alarmingly close distance.
Pixie is riding inside my coat, asleep and full of Spam.
Her tags have serial numbers and symbols I’ve never seen before, except for the bio-hazard symbol.