Chapter 3 - Entry 5

April 21st cont.

A few lights were on inside the main building but I ignored them and slid from shadow to shadow until the generator shack was against my back. The door had a padlock on the outside so I wedged my crowbar against it and waited for thunder.

Mary was inside with a pot to piss in and a bundle of dirty sheets for her bed. The sight stopped me short and for several minutes I stood watching her sleep. I had come to disable the generator, hell bent on killing every last one of the fuckers inside but my resolve faltered as her warm, familiar scent filled my nostrils. It would be a simple matter to escape with her. Just get away and never look back. Doubt kept me frozen in place.

Then she rolled over and the bruised flesh of her face came into view.

Her skin was puffy and an eye had swollen shut from the beatings she'd taken. A few small cuts were still leaking blood. I crept forward and leaned down, sniffing her face like a dog as the anger rekindled twofold inside me. Gently I placed a hand over her lips and whispered her name.

She startled badly, then grew wide eyed as recognition took hold. “Jaeger. Oh my god I thought you were dead.”

I grinned and nodded. “I was.”

She held onto me for awhile, her hot tears running down my neck and shoulder as she trembled and cried.

“Ssssh. Ssssh. It’s ok now. Everything’s going to be ok.” I tried to comfort her but the wrath in my voice made her shiver and pull away.

She lifted a hand to my neck and felt along the scar before jerking back as if bitten. I could smell her fear.

“Follow me.”

I led her back to the lake and left her hidden in the woods nearby. She begged me not to go but I couldn't be dissuaded. Nothing would stop me. Mary’s safety had been the only thing keeping me from burning down the whole fucking building if need be. Now that obstacle was gone and I smiled grimly at the work ahead.

Once the generator had been shut off and the building cast in darkness, I started to randomly fire rounds through windows. The dump truck was in bad shape but its engine started and slowly I managed to untangle it from the wrecked hummer by rocking it between drive and reverse. Most of the tires were flat but I didn’t need it to go very far. Just through the building’s main entrance. The engine stalled after it had crashed through the lobby, lodged in pretty good amid an avalanche of brick and drywall. More windows were shot out after that.

I poked a hole in the limo’s gas tank and set it on fire, then sat down at the lakeside picnic area to have a smoke. The rain had finally stopped but the clouds overhead were still as black as a sack of assholes. I was having a sip of water from a dead soldier's canteen when the radio chirped again with FEMA bitch’s voice hissing through its little speaker.

“I have called reinforcements from Hartford and Camp Rell in Niantic. They will be arriving by helicopter soon so I suggest you leave.”

I chuckled into the mike and replied with a cheerful voice. “Oh I’m sure they’re rushing to save you. Especially since the Senator is dead. Naturally they’ll dedicate critical resources to aid a FEMA pencil pusher and a pair of deputies. You’ll be dead before they get here though. If they even send anyone.”

There was no reply for several minutes. Long enough for me to finish my cigarette.

“What do you want?”

I considered her question for a moment and decided to try the easy way first. “Send out the remaining civilians with any firearms, ammunition and food you have stored. Those of you who remain can keep your own weapons and a few reloads. Once I’m satisfied with what you’ve done, I’ll load up the remaining Hummer and leave.”

After a few moments of silence, I added in a chipper voice. “Or else I’ll just burn the building down and shoot you all as you come out. I’ve always wanted to play with a 50 caliber machine gun.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh? Have you looked at the front grounds? There’s gotta be close to two hundred bodies out there. Who do you think did that?” I paused long enough to chuckle darkly into the mike before adding, “You really think a mass murder gives a shit about a few civilian causalities?”

I was moving before she offered a reply, ghosting around the building’s side and prying open a window to the cafeteria while she considered her options. The food and supplies stored inside were the only thing keeping me from torching the place. That and I wanted to get personal with Deputy Dumbass.

There were five terrified civilians hiding in the kitchen as I made my way inside, each over sixty and not in very good shape. I nodded towards the window and held a finger up to my lips. Only one of them moved.

“Get the fuck out of here. Come back at noon tomorrow if you want your place back. Now go and keep quiet.”

The muzzle of my shiny new M16 spurred them into action.

FEMA bitch’s angry voice crackled over the radio shortly after the last civilian had climbed out the window. “Alright. We’ll send out the remaining residents along with whatever food they can carry but we’re not willing to supply you with more weapons.”

Grinning, I turned my radio down and started climbing the emergency stairs up to the top floor where I figured they’d be hiding.

Softly I whispered into the mike, pressing the button on and off so my voice chopped as if the signal was breaking up. “Are you willing…ammunition…supplies?” Once I reached the top floor, I quietly opened the fire door and stepped into the carpeted hallway. Each time a signal was received by one of those radios, it would chirp. With my volume turned all the way down, I pressed the button at random and wandered down the hall.

I had no idea if FEMA bitch replied but a muted chirp reached my ears through one of the doors just down the hall. Grinning, I whispered into the mike. “Ok. This radio is dying. I’ll be in touch soon.”

With an ear pressed to the door, I heard FEMA bitch’s voice give an answer from inside.

I left the M16 leaning against a wall, pulled my recently liberated sidearm free, and simply knocked on the door. Several voices whispered before a man’s called out, “Who is it?” Laughing, I applied one booted foot to the door and kicked it open. Gunfire filled the space I’d occupied a heartbeat before.

“Fire in the hole!” I yelled, then tossed the radio inside.

Given the lack of light and presence of military weaponry, it was perfectly reasonable of them to assume I’d thrown a grenade. They dove for cover as I walked in and shot Deputy Dumbass’s buddy in the chest. FEMA bitch and her traitorous accomplish were tangled in a pile of limbs just inside the bathroom when I stepped inside and leveled my gun at them. Both put their hands up and started to speak at once but I shushed them with a finger to my lips.

“You. On your stomach, legs crossed at the ankles and hands behind your head.” I barked at Ms. FEMA. “And you. Toss me your handcuffs then strip. Everything off.”

Poor Barney, that’s what I decided to call him then, looked so cute in the midst of a trembling rage. They both did as ordered while I kicked Barney’s gun under the bed and lit a cigarette. With his clothes off, I could smell the lingering scent of sex. At least he’d gotten some recently.

I had FEMA bitch use handcuffs to secure Barney’s wrists and ankles to the bed frame while I pulled up a chair and smoked.

“I thought you killed her,” She hissed to Deputy Dipshit as the last cuff clicked into place.

I answered before he could. “He did.” Grinning, I lifted my chin so they could see the scar. “Problem is, I’ve been killed before. Just need a little fresh meat and I’m good as new.” Both swallowed loudly. “Unfortunately, my friend Nathan climbed over the wall when I was feeling hungry. You remember Nathan, don’t you? Barely in his twenties. Tall kid with blond hair. Anyway, he’s dead now. Can you imagine? Being eaten alive by your friend? Someone you trusted munching on your organs.”

“You’re…you’re one of those things now?” The deputy stammered.

I shrugged and grabbed his discarded underwear from the floor, then shoved them roughly into his mouth. “Yes and no.” A hand lifted to pat my belly. “Fortunately, I’m full now.”

The deputy blanched white while FEMA bitch swore softly. I turned to look at her, nuzzling the pistol’s barrel against her temple. “Now. You have one chance to make it out of here without a bullet in your brain. Do as I say and I won’t kill you. Refuse and I’ll blow your fucking head off. Got it?”

She swallowed loudly, showing fear for the first time, and nodded. A small yelp escaped her lips as I grabbed a fistful of hair and forced her face between the deputy’s parted legs.

“Eat. I want you both to know how it feels.”

The man started thrashing then, straining against his bindings while the woman between his legs placed a hand on either side of his thighs for support. She didn’t object. Didn’t beg. Real stone-cold bitches don’t do that sort of thing. Muffled screams filled the room when she bit down.

“Chew it up good before you swallow,” I admonished in a sing song voice.

Blood blossomed on the sheets and ran down her chin as his thrashing became more violent. Veins stood out on his neck while I smiled sweetly at him, then patted the woman’s back as she vomited.

“Awww. Try again.”

She did.

He passed out five minutes into the buffet so I had her stop. Blood covered her chin and there were bits of chewed cockmeat trapped in the vomit that coated her shirt.

“Get the keys and uncuff his wrists.”

She wasn’t very steady on her feet as she complied. I made her sit with her back to the headboard and handcuffed both wrists there. The knife flicked out and cut open her shirt, leaving her exposed before me. Then I rolled the deputy over so his face was resting between her bare breasts and pulled out the gag. She looked up at me with anger and confusion.

“I did what you told me! You said you wouldn’t kill me!”

I grinned and shoved the underwear gag between her blood-stained lips.

“I’m not.” With that I sliced through the deputy’s neck.

“He will.”

Horror twisted her features as she tried to get away. I chuckled and walked around the room until I found her clipboard. “Let’s see. We have Private Johnson in room 203. 103 is being used as the armory. Sergeant Wilcox is in 119. Ah. Your name’s Daisy? Daisy Stone? Who would’ve guessed?”

Humming softly to myself, I crossed off two names from the list and waited for the deputy to start moaning.

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