I had never actually seen anything as bad as what I had just viewed in all my days at school. Maybe I just never looked. But I had seen it at last. Several spots on her back seemed so fresh, like they had just scabbed over. Like just a few days ago they were red with blood. And her ribs? What kind of monster does that to his child? What kind of beast hurts his own daughter? I started to cry. I was defeated.
Believe me, I understood well what was going on in society. It was The Lord of the Flies, except with all humanity, not just young boys. When things fall apart, some people fall to pieces. Others thrive. That’s just the way it works. Fight or flight. It’s the most basic human survival tactic. But what Britney exhibited wasn’t from a stranger. It wasn’t because things had gone bad recently. It was her normal life, her every day walk through hell.
I had spanked my daughter once when she was about four. I don’t remember the whole situation, I just knew I was mad and she had it coming. I didn’t spank her hard, but she carried on like I had been much tougher. Rita cried in her room for hours. I couldn’t take it. My little girl was hurting, and I had caused it. I never touched her like that again. But that was nothing to what I felt now. I was awash in many different kinds of emotions. My first thought was rage. How could a human being do this to one of his own children? Then I felt guilt. Guilt in the fact that my children never had to be subjected to treatment like that, and yet Britney was expected to endure it daily. Finally, I felt remorse. How could I have missed this? How could I have not seen the obvious signs of an abused child? How could I have ever doubted her?
As I cried, Britney stood above me cradling my head at her waist. She carefully rubbed my wet head giving me the sympathy she so rightly deserved. She knew she had shocked me, hurt me. Maybe that was her intention? I don’t think so. I think she was just being an honest teenager, showing me just how good my life really was.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She had softened. Her display told her terrible story better than any words.
I stood and looked at her not ashamed of the tears on my face. “You didn’t upset me. The man who did that to you upsets me.” She met my stare. “I’m sorry if I doubted you. I had no reason to. It was wrong of me. You’ve been very honest with me, Britney. For doubting you, I apologize.” She smiled slightly and nodded.
“Apology accepted.” She looked at the group far down the south road. “Do we have to keep hiding in here?”
“Yeah, we need to make sure they’re gone before we get out of here.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “I know you’re hungry and wet and tired and sick of all of this. But if we just hang tight for another night, we’ll get out of this mess in one piece. Trust me?”
She smiled. “Yes. I trust you. And yes, I’m hungry and wet and tired. But I know you’ll get me out of this mess. You owe me, right?” She drew me in and hugged me tightly.
We sat to wait out our tormentors. Rain came again; we sat into the darkness. The darker night became the more the rains continued to fall. How could there be this much moisture in the sky? It had rained for almost two days straight. As the rain fell, it seemed to wash away our hunger. This afternoon I had been hungry, tired and wet. Now I was tired and wet. My hunger disappeared. Brit occasionally whined about food but not much. I think she felt the same.
We discussed our strategy as we sat and waited for the rain to stop. No matter what, we’d be on the move at first light. Tomorrow was going to be our big day, at least we planned on it being our big day. Brit spoke quietly of crawling into her grandmother’s oversized, overstuffed feather bed and sleeping for days. And when she finally woke from her slumber she planned on eating the wonderful food Grandma would have for her. Later she spoke about eating first and sleeping later. She couldn’t decide which she wanted or needed first – food or sleep. It didn’t matter one way or the other to me. I just wanted to get us somewhere safe. We’d been lost on the road for going on five days. We needed safety above all.
I pulled the pocket watch out late in the night and tried to get a read of the time. It was just too dark. I wound it tight so we’d have a general idea of time. I paused as I went to stuff it back in my jeans. What difference did it make? It didn’t matter whether it was 8 a.m. or 1 p.m. Time no longer mattered. Time had become irrelevant. In less than a month, keeping track of time had become a pointless practice. What did it matter if we were hungry? If we were tired? If we were being hunted? We would eat when we could find food; we’d sleep when we couldn’t go any longer; and the whole time we would be on guard protecting ourselves from the evils that chased us daily. In one month, thirty days, the world had gone insane. And we were still lost.
I unchained the watch from my belt loop and hurled it far into the cornfield. I felt relieved; I felt emancipated. I felt reborn.
At first light, I woke Brit. I had slept a little on and off. She had slept most of the night next to me on the windfall. We were still wet, but not soaked. The rains had let up somewhere in the dark and now there was just mud and dampness everywhere. As she struggled to chase the sleep away, I stood and looked around. I felt for the gun but couldn’t find it. I had laid it on the windfall somewhere in the middle of the night so I wouldn’t fumble trying to get it from my pocket when needed. No longer was I afraid. I’d shoot our way out of here and all the way to Grandmas’ if I had to.
Brit finally rose from the windfall and looked all around us. “Wet and gray I see. But at least it’s not raining.” I smiled at her.
“We need to get moving fairly soon, okay?”
A quick nod was her reply. “I need to pee first. Okay?”
I looked carefully for a semi-private spot. “Go out the west side here and into the corn a few rows. Not too far, though. I don’t want to lose track of you.”
She carefully made her way through the wet brush and disappeared into the corn. I lost sight of her a few feet in, so she must have found a decent spot for her relief.
I thought about what the day might bring. Since Brit had remembered the basic whereabouts of her grandparent’s farm, I knew it wouldn’t take but two hours to get there. Hopefully we would find the roads empty after two days of rain. I was sick of hiding in corn and waiting out bandits in brush piles. I wanted to get on the road and get to our destination.
Getting there, of course, brought a new problem to mind. Brit was staying with her grandparents, period. I needed to continue on to Bayfield. I needed to get there somehow, regroup and then figure out what to do about my family. I was stupid to think I could make it to Milwaukee anytime soon; it had already taken so long just to get this far. Hopefully Brit’s people would have a bike and some basic supplies they could lend me – no, give me. I wasn’t coming back. Once I got to Bayfield I was staying put until I could figure out a decent plan. Maybe things would settle down by next spring. Maybe the roads would be safer then. I needed my family. Either they would make it to Bayfield soon or I would eventually go looking for them. I would die trying, if that’s what it took. I would find them or I would give my last breath as homage to them. It was that simple. Brit deserved Grandma and Grandpa, and I deserved Sharon and the kids.
I felt a few drops of water fall off the trees from above and onto my head. Everything was soaked from the rain. Everything, including her and me. Brit really was a good kid, and I hoped her grandparents would take me in for a few days. I could use some real rest and some real food. Two days of sleeping and eating were what I needed most now. Then on day three, I could take off for my destination. I knew Brit had other ideas, but I trusted one of her grandparents would talk some sense into her. She’d get over me. They would keep her happy.
I was about to call for my travel companion when I heard her approach from behind. She must have gotten turned around in the corn, she came from the north instead of the west. I turned with a small smile to greet her. When I looked up my heart stopped; I felt a colossal chill run through my body. It was him.
“Well, well, well. Lookie who I f
ound.” John smiled wryly. “I knew you wouldn’t get too far. Not in all that rain. And this is a logical place to go in a rush. The way you left my place.” He had his pistol, and it was pointed at my chest. I tried to blink him away, but he was here to stay. His smile showed pure evil.
“Yeah. Sorry about leaving like that. And your window. It just didn’t seem like a good place for Brit to be, or me for that matter. You understand.” I frowned his direction, and he showed no emotion in return.
“Speaking of her, where is she? The girl.” Hopefully she was hearing this exchange and was hightailing it to the next county.
I spoke a little louder. “No idea. She was here the first night. But when I woke this morning she was gone.” John’s head twitched as he looked around the brush patch. “I suppose she’d had enough of me. She knew where she was headed. She’s safe by now I’m sure.”
John’s smiled broadened. “We’ll see. I bet she hasn’t made it all that far.” He jerked his gun my way. “Where’s your gun? I don’t see a bulge in any of your pockets. You got it hidden on your back there?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No. That’s missing, too. I couldn’t find it this morning. I suppose she took it.” I peered carefully into John’s cold eyes. “I’d keep that in mind if you go looking for her. She’s armed, and from what she told me, she’s shot a lot guns before with my ex-wife’s boyfriend. She’s actually pretty handy with a pistol. So, use caution.”
It was John’s turn to laugh. “Right. That little shit doesn’t know a gun from a stick. She’s just some clueless teenager, like all of them nowadays. Movies, music and boys. That’s all they think of.” He wiped his mouth briefly. “I already know she ain’t yours. That was pretty easy to figure out from the way you two acted. I’ll keep her occupied once I find her.”
I took a deep breath. “You know John, I’ve decided you’re just evil. Guys like you don’t deserve to be alive. You should all be hung. What good is a little 14-year-old girl to you anyway?”
Now he really lit up. “She’s young and firm and tight. In all the right places. I like ‘em young.” I shook my head in disgust. “Hey, don’t judge me. Be honest. You’ve had her all alone out here for a number of days. Tell me you ain’t once thought of touching her. Tell me those tight young thighs don’t stir something inside your groin. Tell me while she was exhausted and sleeping you never reached down and felt one of those firm young tits of hers. Go ahead and lie to me. Tell me you’re clean.”
A quick gasp escaped before I continued. “You’re a sick, perverted, disgusting old man. You know most people don’t think like that. They don’t talk like that. Decent people, John. Good people.” I scanned the area casually hoping not to see Brit anywhere. She was thankfully still AWOL. “If I had known you were even just a little sick, a little crazy, I would have done the world a huge favor and just killed you when I had a chance. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
He gave a faux look of hurt; my rant was probably a compliment to this sick bastard. “Well, you didn’t. And I thank you for that. But I’m not going to return that favor. I’m going to kill you now. And then I’m going to find that fine young lady. And I’m going to take her back to my place, kicking and screaming if I have to. Then I’m going to enjoy myself. I’m going to have a good time. And Trevor can watch just like he did with the others. He likes that you know.”
I felt the bile rise in my throat. “You sick…”
He waved the gun at me. “You know, it’s not personal, Bill. I just have to kill you. I don’t want to have to be on guard wondering if and when you’re coming back for her. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.” He cocked the hammer and paused. “Tell you what, I got another option for you. Hear me out.”
I chuckled at John. “Oh I’m sure this is good.” The gun was still pointed at me.
“I’ll walk you back to the road, and down to the corner of 35. You can go either north or south, I don’t give a shit. I’ll stand there and wait for a half hour or so. If you don’t want to die, just keep going wherever it is you’re headed. If you want to die, come back. I’ll shoot you right there.” His eyebrows rose. “See, you can still live. Just leave. Give me your word you won’t come back. Okay?”
I let his words sink in. I’m not sure if it was a trap or an honest offer. I looked around again for Brit. She had heard the discussion and had taken off. Good.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you put that gun down, and we’ll fight man to man. Just bare hands. Give me a shot to show you how a decent fight goes.” He frowned and wiggled the gun; no deal I guess. “Well, then you’d better just kill me. Because if you let me go I’ll use all I have left in life to hunt you down, you sick rotten bastard. If it’s the last thing I do, I promise you, I will kill you.”
John’s shoulders slumped. “Well, I gave you an out. I’ll tell the girl goodbye for you. Let her know your last thoughts were about her. That will be some consolation to her I imagine.” He twitched, ready to pull the trigger. “I know you’re a decent fellow. I know you view me as sick. But I win, you lose. I live, you die. All those years of being a decent man aren’t worth a damn now.” He took aim at my chest, my heart I suppose. “Goodbye, Bill. See you in hell.”
I closed my eyes to pray. The gun fired once and then twice.
Chapter 32