Last Exit Page 8

I stood. Orev dropped from the ceiling to land on my shoulder.

  Priscilla walked to the door and held it open. I passed into the night and my vision faded to dark.

  Something struck my face.

  “Wake up,” Shelly yelled.

  I hauled myself out of the blackness and sucked in a deep breath. The pole lights still buzzed, but the hum was now bearable.

  “She’s coming around. Don’t hit her again,” Finn said.

  Shelly ignored him and delivered another stinging slap to my cheek.

  Not wanting to get hit again, I forced my eyes open. Shelly, Cecil’s wife and my great-aunt by marriage, straddled me. The glow from the pole lights bleached her already light hair into a hazy glow floating around her head. She reared back her hand for another slam.

  “No,” I managed to whisper and shaded my eyes from the harsh light with one shaking hand.

  Finn hauled Shelly off me. He leaned into my face, close enough for me to see the tears streaking his cheeks. “Wake up. Please wake up.”

  “What happened?” My voice came out in barely a whisper.

  “You just passed out,” he said.

  “She stopped breathing,” Shelly shouted from the sidelines.

  Had I died? The thought sent icicles down my spine. I glanced at Hannah. She gave me an unsure smile and approached. She offered her hand. I took it. Both of us grunting with the effort, she pulled me to my feet. My knees wobbled. Hannah slipped one arm around me to hold me upright. My entire family crowded around me.

  Zora ran to me and hugged my legs, staring up at me with that huge grin only kids can pull off. “I touched you so you’d wake up.”

  I knelt and hugged her back. Zora no longer moved that kind of energy, but her touch might have helped heal me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered and kissed one velvety soft cheek. She gave me a slobbery kiss on the lips.

  From my position next to my young cousin, I said, “I’ve learned what Oscar wants. The mantle. If he succeeds, he’ll ascend to the power of a half-god and open a rift between this world and the dark outposts. He’ll bring apocalypse to the human race.”

  Several mouths fell open.

  “How are we supposed to fight against that?” Dillon came forward, took her daughter’s hand, and tried to pull her away from me.

  Zora let out a screech like an animal caught in a snare. I gave her a light push toward Dillon. She shoved my hand away with another squall. Knowing when to quit, I let her be.

  “I don’t know how we’re supposed to fight, but we’re going to figure it out.” I turned away and began surveying the wreckage of Sanctuary.

  What I saw tightened my throat and made my heart ache. One thought floated through my head: gone, all gone.

  Cecil came to stand next to me. Side by side, we took in the destruction.

  The RV park was small. Owned by friends of Cecil’s, it was a no frills, off the grid place. A place for people like us.

  Sanctuary, with its dozen and some change RVs took up most of the spots. There’d been a few campers outside our group, but they’d stayed to themselves and seemed to desire the same kind of privacy Sanctuary did. Now they’d paid for being in the same place as us.

  Every RV in the park looked like scrap metal, unrecognizable as dwellings. Smoke rose from a few.

  I counted my family’s heads. “Where are Brad and Jadine?”

  As I waited for an answer, my mind helpfully played a movie of the killings I’d witnessed. Bands of fear closed around my heart. Cecil approached.

  “They’re fine. Just seeing what they can salvage. This isn’t Jadine’s first rodeo.” Cecil spoke with a little smile, proud of his adopted daughter for picking herself up and moving on.

  “How many dead?” I’d seen a total of eight people killed. No doubt there were more.

  “Everybody’s dead except our family, Hannah and Tubby, and Kenny.” Shelly pressed her well made up lips into a grim line.

  We exchanged shocked glances. Tears blurred the edges of my vision. Faces of the people we'd lost danced through my head, their last pleas for help clawing at my conscience. I gulped back a sob. Oscar and his cronies would die by my hand, and die screaming. Those dead people had been my responsibility. I’d make this right if it was the last thing I did.

  Finn picked up Zander. “We gotta get out of here before the cops come. This place is out of the way, but it ain’t another planet. You know somebody heard that racket.”

  “You’re right.” I nodded my throbbing head.

  Hannah stared out over the rubble, her expression sick. “What about police reports? What about insurance claims? I had quite a bit of money in that tore up motorhome over there.”

  I turned to Cecil. “Papaw?”

  Thank goodness he was still the leader of Sanctuary. I had no idea how to balance being an outlaw and collecting insurance money on stuff we legitimately owned.

  Cecil stared out at the mess of our lives. Tears brimmed in his eyes. Sanctuary had been his parents’ conception. All of it dashed to shards in ten minutes.

  He spoke softly, voice trembling. “I’ll call my lawyer. Get him on it. But for now, get moving. I got a bug-out plan for us.”

  He popped me on the shoulder and shuffled away. It was my job to push everybody along.

  I raised my voice. “Salvage what you can, see if your vehicle still runs.”

  “Meet back here in 15 minutes,” Shelly yelled.

  Tubby and I jogged to the spot where my RV had been parked next to Hannah’s motorhome. The top of my RV was caved in as though a giant had stepped on it. The metal on the sides had been pulled back like the top of a tin can. The door hung on one hinge. The step had been torn off and flung who knew where.

  Tubby leapt up on the threshold and held out one skinny hand. I used it to climb up. We took in the ruin in silence.

  The bed had been ripped to shreds. Pieces of sheet and fluffs of mattress stuffing floated in the air. Dishes, toiletries, clothes covered the floor. The sight reminded me of a landfill. The whole thing carried the strong odor of urine.

  I let my shoulders hunch forward. The RV had been my home only a few months, but I’d loved it because it was the first place I’d ever lived in that was all mine.

  After several seconds, Tubby nudged me with one bony elbow. “Come on, girl. Time’s wasting.”

  He was right. I took hurried steps across the sagging floor. “My witch pack is in the closet by the bed. My trunk with my supplies is underneath the board the mattress sat on. That's all I need.”

  Tubby and I made quick work of getting out the only two things I couldn’t leave behind. My truck had deep ruts scratched in both sides. All four wheels had been hosed down with dog pee. All that was okay if it still ran. I went around to the front and had to stop myself from sinking to the ground. The hood stood open, and pieces of the engine scattered the ground.

  Miracle of all miracles, Tubby’s trashy Cutlass hadn’t even been touched. Maybe the raiders hadn’t thought it worth their time. He opened the trunk and lifted my things into it.

  I put one hand on his arm. “Why don’t you go back to Gaslight City? Staying with us is only going to put you in danger.”

  He snorted and puffed out his chest. “You my friend, ain’t you? I ain’t going nowhere.”

  Some emotion, made of equal parts sorrow and gratitude, swelled in my chest. The muscles, still tender from almost dying of hag poisoning, ached with it.

  In my silence, Tubby slammed the trunk shut.

  “Let’s go hurry Hannah along.” I ran the few steps to Hannah’s fancy motorhome.

  Hannah sat on the ground by the wreck of her motorhome with a blank stare on her face. The metal side of Hannah’s motorhome had been ripped off, just as mine had. Long scratches covered the interior walls. Her clothes, much more expensive than mine, lay in a damp snarl on the dirt.

  “They dragged my clothes out and pissed on them.” She raised her head to stare at me. It was too dark to see her ey
es, but I knew the way her jaw jutted out. Angry, ready to fight.

  “Is anything still usable?” I hated to even ask.

  Hannah drew out her two handguns and showed them to me. “I don’t even have a vehicle to drive.”

  “Me either. I’m riding with Tubby.” I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “We can all ride together,” Tubby said quickly.

  Cecil, Shelly, and Dillon approached. Shelly had Zora by the hand. The little girl dragged the older woman along, her little face set in determination.

  Zora yanked her hand out of Shelly’s grip and launched herself at me. I managed to catch and lift her, but I staggered. Tubby kept me upright, but the weakness scared me.

  “We’re leaving now,” she yelled in my face, delighted by all the excitement.

  “Looks like it,” I told her and turned my attention to Cecil. “Where’s Kenny? Shelly said he’s still alive. Is that right?”

  Another wave of dizziness passed through me. I tried to set Zora on the ground, but she locked her legs around my waist like a wrestler.

  Dillon approached me, tapped Zora, and held out her hands. Zora turned her face away. Dillon shook her head at the little girl. “You better mind me, baby.”

  To me, Dillon said, “Kenny’s real upset. Finn and Zander are with him now, trying to get him moving.”

  Dillon finally pulled Zora off me. The little girl screeched. Dillon pretended not to hear and said, “I think we’re gonna have to leave Kenny here.”

  “We can’t leave him for the cops,” Cecil snapped. He pointed at me. “Get him to come on or put a bullet in his head. Now.”

  I froze at the finality of Cecil’s orders. He glared at me to let me know he meant every word. I staggered toward the only other voices I could hear in the still night.

  I met Brad and Jadine before I’d gone far. Brad carried a laundry basket of personal belongings. Jadine had one hand on Brad’s arm and her aluminum cane in the other, but she looked stronger than Brad right then.

  Brad looked shell-shocked. The laundry basket shook in his hands. I remembered Mysti telling me about the way she and Brad had moved from foster home to foster home with their worldly belongings in a garbage bag. This must have brought back sad memories.

  “Y’all all right?” I peeked into the laundry basket and saw mostly electronics. My head swam from the motion. I needed rest, and I didn’t see it happening for a while.

  “Everything we had is gone.” Brad spoke through tight lips.

  “Do you still have a working vehicle?” If everybody’s vehicles had been turned to worthless piles of metal, I didn’t know how we’d get out of here.

  Brad gave his head an angry shake.

  “Don’t worry,” Jadine told her husband. “We’ll get it figured out. Papaw’ll know what to do.” Jadine didn’t sound at all concerned. She’d lived this way all her life. Maybe I needed to take a lesson from her.

  “Papaw can’t bring back our home and our truck.” Brad started to stomp away.

  I grabbed his arm, pulled him back, and spoke into his ear. “Cut the attitude. Nobody plays that crap here.”

  Brad’s head snapped back as though I’d struck him, but he gave me a slow nod and began walking, Jadine following. Once he got a few steps away, he said something in a sweet tone of voice. Jadine giggled.

  Brad had become my family by marriage only a few months earlier. I still wasn’t sure this was the right place for him, but I’d promised Mysti Whitebyrd, his sister and my mentor and friend, that I’d make sure he got treated fairly. Most of the help I gave him landed in the “quit acting like a baby” category.

  I left Brad and Jadine, hurrying along until I found Kenny crying with both hands over his face. Finn stood next to him, his son Zander on one hip.

  Finn waited until I got close and whispered in my ear. “I’ve got my pistol if it comes to that.”

  Finn had spent his whole life with Cecil. Of course, he’d know the orders when it was time to bug out.

  My stomach somersaulted, and bile rose up the back of my throat. I put on my leader face and sat down next to Kenny.

  “I saw what happened, and we’re all sorry. Anita was one of us. You are too.” I held my breath against the odor of his fear sweat.

  Kenny cried harder. I felt for him. If I knew Tanner was dead, it would kill me. Because of that, Kenny deserved what kindness I could manage to give him.

  “You have to get up. Cecil says all of us have to go now.” I put my arm around Kenny. His b.o. wreathed my head.

  Kenny leaned his head on my shoulder, tears immediately soaking through the thin material of my T-shirt. My consciousness wavered again. I squeezed my eyes shut for several seconds. Once I had control of myself, I lit two cigarettes and pressed one between Kenny’s lips.

  “Cecil said I have to get you moving before the police come.” I couldn’t quite make myself articulate Cecil’s orders. I didn't think I'd ever be able to give that kind of order.

  Kenny’s tears cut off, and his head snapped up. His eyes searched mine, and his mouth dropped open. He’d been with Cecil long enough to understand too. He seemed to get control of himself and glanced around us, taking in the smoking trashed RVs, and the piles of still bodies.

  “What about Anita? Do we have time to find her…body?” He turned to me, dumb eyes wide and almost innocent.

  Finn and I exchanged a glance. I raised my eyebrows. He shook his head. I rolled my eyes.

  “Listen. Sooner or later—probably sooner—somebody’s gonna come nosing around. Once that happens, the blue light special is gonna descend on this place like stink on shit.” I hated the way I sounded, but this had been a long, nasty twenty-four hours.

  Kenny took a wadded bandana out of his pocket, honked into it, and replaced it. He stood and staggered toward the rest of our group. Finn took his arm and led him along.

  I stood, and my vision filled with black dots. The hag's memories played in my subconscious as I absorbed it. The dizziness faded, but I needed sleep. I hurried toward Tubby’s car.

  My eyes fell on a still figure. One of the dead. I took a closer look. The Mystical Johann. Poor son of a bitch. The man lay on his stomach. From his back protruded several long, skinny lengths of rebar.

  Queenie’s reading came back. The Tower. Death. The Ten of Swords.

  This had been the big upheaval. And I’d either die or be changed forever by beating it.

  6

  We raced around trying to figure out how to best make use of the few working vehicles we had left.

  Cecil and Shelly commandeered Kenny’s monster four-door truck, which had somehow escaped damage. Dillon and Zora crowded with them. Brad, with more resourcefulness than I’d credited him, drove up in an old Suburban. Its owner was probably dead. Finn climbed in with them, Zander on his lap. They all hightailed it out of the RV park.

  Hannah didn’t want to leave her expensive motorhome. She stood in front of it, arms hugging herself, and looked like she might want to cry. Tubby marched over to her and put his arm around her.

  “It’s a thing. Let it go.” He turned and walked toward the Cutlass.

  A few seconds later, Hannah followed him. I was already in the backseat, so she had to sit in the passenger seat. She sat gingerly, as though Tubby might do something inappropriate any second.

  He started the Cutlass and said, “I’ll cut off your fingers if you fuck with my radio.”

  He turned the Latino rap back on and drove. On the way out, I forced myself not to look back.

  We stopped at a twenty-four hour discount store and bought what we needed to get through the next days. Hannah complained mightily that all the jeans were made for short people. That’s when I knew she’d make it.

  Back in the car, Tubby turned to me. “Papaw said he gave you GPS coordinates for where we’re headed.”

  Tubby’s calling Cecil Papaw, as the rest of us did, stopped me. It was usually reserved for members of Sanctuary. But Tubby had saved Cecil’s life.
Maybe that helped him make the cut. For now.

  I handed Tubby my phone and called out the passcode. He programmed the mapping function to give us directions to our destination.

  “That’s in the middle of nowhere,” Hannah said. “Is Papaw sure there’s somewhere to stay?”

  “If he says there is, there is.” I trusted that much to be true.

  Tubby started driving. I lay on the back seat of Tubby’s Cutlass and tried to relax. Hannah and Tubby talked quietly in the front seat. The dashboard lights played over their faces. Watching them interact, exchanging insults, laughing at each other, somehow helped my mind unspool. I drifted somewhere between waking and sleeping.

  The rough buzz of the motorcycles became part of my half-dreaming state. My imagination put Wade on one of the motorcycles, leaned way back, the muscles of his forearms taut under their jungle of tattoos. Thinking of Wade no longer woke up feelings of love lost. I only wished my old friend well, hoped he could avoid Corman and stay alive. Once I ended this mess with Oscar, Corman needed to go away permanently. Few people deserved it more.

  Then I remembered the ghost version of the Six Gun Revolutionaries Motorcycle Club. My eyes snapped open, and I sat bolt upright and stared out the back window. Motorcycle headlights burned in the dark night, right on the Cutlass’s bumper. The rumbling engines shook the car. I squinted at the darkness, searching for the horsemen. But clouds covered the moon, and a murky fog rose from the highway.

  “Oscar’s back already?” Queasy terror bubbled in my stomach. Tubby, Hannah, and I couldn’t fight off that horde of murderers alone. We’d die out here on this lonely road.

  Hannah turned enough so I could see the anger creasing her face.

  “No. It’s not Oscar. These are real motorcycles, driven by living people. But if they don’t watch out, they’re gonna be ghost riders.” She raised her hand enough for me to see the pistol clutched in it.

  Oh boy. Tension wound the muscles in the back of my neck. My headache throbbed harder. I stared into the night and counted three motorcycle headlights. Either we’d kill them, or they’d kill us. I reached for my magical energy. A weak pulse answered me. The black opal echoed it. I was too tired for this fight.