A Gray Life: a novel (11 page)

Still October 6
th

{The captives take turns trying to open the basement door. They search
Peter for keys. None are found. Marc complains from his spot in the corner. The young boy balls ties a rag around his mouth}

Michael
: This isn’t going to work. Most of Peter’s tools are upstairs. Unless one of you know how to open a deadbolt using a hanger and a dildo…?

Young boy:
{finishing the knot on Marc’s gag} What’s a dildo?

Louise
: {loudly} Michael is right. There’s no way we’re getting this door open. Not tonight anyway. Gabriella, would you give me a hand?

{
They drag Peter into Room 1}

Michael: We’v
e all had quite a day. Before we try a million more ways to open that door, we should get some sleep.

{
Everyone agrees except for Marc, who screams half-understood threats into his gag}

* * * *

October 7
th
(in the am)

(Via personal security camera)

{Everyone is sleeping. A persistent scratching originates from the window. The noise quits. Michael wakes up when he hears the plastic barrier pop off of the window ledge. It crashes to the ground and wakes up the group. A large shape is at the window, green eyes shining in the dark}

{
The bars hold momentarily, then bend outward. A creature with four arms and red skin slithers through the opening in the bars. It moves near to Louise, but Michael interposes himself between them, getting slashed on the arm from one of its talons}

{Gabriella screams
. Creature looks to her instead of Michael. Creature leaps on Gabriella. It digs two taloned-fingers into her eye sockets. Her screams end abruptly when the monster’s long fingers break through to the back of her skull. Everyone watches. Marc is the first to respond}

Marc:
{wiggles in his bonds} Mmmm hmm hnmmm!

{The creature decides on its next meal, s
witching from Gabriella to Marc}

{Young boy
stacks chairs, boxes and other things against the wall to reach the window. Louise moves to help him}

Louise: We’re almost done. Why are you stopping?

{Young boy points to the open door of Room 1. A trail of blood leads out of the room to the basement stairs]

Michael: {bat in hand}
Fuck it. We can’t wait to see where He went. We have to go.

{Creature is still feasting on Marc’s face, picking at the protruding nose, ears, and mouth.}

Louise: You go first. See if there’s anything else out there like
that
.  

Michael: Oh, there will be, but I’ll go first anyway.

{He climbs up the ladder of odds and ends to look out of the window. Off-screen, the creature squeals in surprise, then in agony. Louise and young boy cry out as Peter comes into view. He is covered in blood and an unknown green substance, possibly a secretion from the creature}

{Michael look
s behind him from the window ledge. Peter has climbed up the stack of chairs. He slides a knife into Michael’s side. Michael yells and kicks Peter in the face, knocking him backward. The knife skitters along the floor and out of sight. Louise and young boy hold one another in a corner. The boy tries to break free of Louise, but she holds him tight. They look on as Peter and Michael fight to get to the knife. Both men kick, punch, and wrestle around on the floor. Michael gets behind Peter, putting him in a chokehold}

Michael: {to Louise and young boy}
Go! { Peter struggles in his arms. Young boy and wife do not move} GO!

(Gas supply in generator: Low. POWERING OFF)

* * * *

“You know what I love best about you?” Christopher nuzzled Juniper’s temple.

“No, what?”
She lay next to him, numb in all the right places.

“Mmm, this.”
Christopher kissed above Juniper’s right breast.

“Well, I
already knew you loved those.”

He laughed. “That was supposed to be a kiss for your heart.”

Juniper laughed too. “Oh, uh-huh.”

“And I love this.”
Another kiss at her temple. “And this is now my favorite.” Christopher picked up her hand to kiss her gold wedding band. “You’re all mine, forever.”

“According to state record, a woman named Violet Rampling is all yours forever.”

“You mean I can sleep with her
and
you, anytime I want?”

“According to state law, yeah.”

“Sweet.” He smiled lasciviously, and she didn’t like it.

An unspoken
joke hung in the air about Juniper sleeping around, but Christopher would never have been so cruel as to say it aloud.
You’re imagining things; he’s not even thinking like that,
she told herself. All she could feel coming from him was love. Underneath, she didn't sense doubt.

Juniper
snuggled closer to her husband, never dreaming that in three months she would be sleeping regularly at the Coach Inn.

****

“Oh God. Jesus. You’re so fucking tight!” Mr. Needy moaned.

Juniper was glad he had
chosen to take her from behind, as it afforded her the luxury of rolling her eyes. She had heard lines like his dozens of times before. It was easy to go along with the script.

“Oh, it’s ‘
cause you’re so big!” She tried to sound as enthused as possible.

Her faux encouragement helped him to finish up seconds later, making his total fucking time = five minutes. $300 for five minutes worth of work was well worth it to Juniper.

As Mr. Needy was getting dressed, he asked Juniper how old she was. She could tell her answer hinged on a lot, even without her ability. If she told him twenty-five, he would never be a repeat customer.

“
Eighteen.” She giggled from the bed.

“
Ohhh.” He breathed. “Really?”

Before they had gotten down to the serious business, Juniper had fashioned her hair into pigtails. She looked younger than eighteen.

“Really, mister.”

Though they had just finished, he was ready to go for a second time. The way he was lusting for her
perceived youth repulsed Juniper.

Mr. Needy sat down on the bed. His intentions of leaving blew away in the wind.
Goddamnit
, she thought.
I’m tired.
She was too tired to fake it for the five minutes Mr. Needy required.

“Why aren’t you in school, young lady?”

“Duh, it’s nighttime! Plus, I graduated. Good thing too because most schools around here are cancelled.”
You damn pervert.
 

There was no deterring Mr. Needy. “Did you ever fuck any of your teachers?”

Time to set things straight.
“Okay, you wanna go again? No problem. But you have to pay me the other half of what you owe me, plus another $350 in advance.”

“Why $350?”

“$50 extra for the role-playing.”

Mr. Needy looked less than willing to comply.
“How ‘bout zero?”

“I
don’t ever fuck for free. Sorry.” Juniper’s mean laugh said she wasn’t sorry at all.

“
I don’t pay whores who get me outta the mood.”

Mr. Needy pulled on his pants and gathered up his things.

“Whatever crazy ideas you have otherwise, you’re paying me.”

Juniper reac
hed around the side of the bed to find what she needed taped the back of the headboard. Unfortunately, the duct tape was holding it a little too well. When she tugged at it, the gun stubbornly resisted.

“The he
ll you doin’?” Mr. Needy worked hard to get his shoes on.

A second tug and the tape felt slacker. “Getting what I need.”

“I told you, I don’t pay for sub-par service. You’d better--,”

One last tug and the gun wrenched free of the tape. Juniper pointed it at Mr.
Needy’s face.

“I’d better what? Think you’re the first guy to try and
not pay me?”

Mr
. Needy was backing away with both hands up.

“I’m sorry. Let me go.”
He kept looking from her to the door.

“Gimme your wallet.”
Juniper wasn’t going to let him leave without paying her double, no, triple.

“C’mon, lady.”
             

“Give me your wallet, asshole.”

He reached in his back pocket to pull out a black leather bill-fold.

“Toss it to me.” Juniper said.

He did. It landed next to her leg. With her empty hand, Juniper picked up the wallet and flipped it open. Instead of a license, a work ID was the first card in the clear casing. “Hillcrest High School: Staff member”, it read, right underneath a smiling Mr. Needy. Only his name was Jedadiah Monroe.

“Mr. Monroe, you’re a goddamn teacher?”

“No, a book keeper in the library.” His eyes were on the ground, as if he were ashamed.

“Still close to the students.
Close to dream, and one day to touch?”

“I would never--
”.

His guilt hit her hard. It was
difficult to separate her feelings from the tangled web of lies and the lust merging in his gut. Sometimes, when feelings were strong, she got not just feelings, but images. Mr. Needy was projecting the image of a young girl, probably fourteen or so years old. She was carrying a stack of books, and as she got closer, Mr. Needy’s feelings strengthened. The girl left her pink fuzzy sweater in the library, and he took it home. He laid it on the bed, imagining all sorts of bad things.

Juniper let go of the images. She didn’t need to know anything else.

“You would never, huh?” She sneered. “Get the fuck out of here. You’re disgusting.”

“Ca
n I have my wallet back?”

“Are you kidding me?” She cocked the gun. “Goodbye, douchbag.”

“Okay, okay.”

When Monroe got to the door, he fumbled with the lock. He moaned and looked behind
him, sure he would be shot any second. Juniper sighed. Finally, he unlocked the door, and the moment it opened, he ran. His fear lingered in the air. It tasted like pennies on Juniper’s tongue. She spit into the wastebasket next to the bed.

Her telephone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe.” It was Larry the hotel manager on the line. “That last john ran past here threatening to call the cops. You better make like a tree.”

“Thanks for the tip.”
And the corny reference
, she thought.

“Who the fuck you callin’ ‘babe’?”
Juniper heard Jolie scream in the background.

“Nobody!”
Larry screamed back.

“Is that your nine-year-old whore again?”

“She wasn’t nine-years-old!”

“So eleven is the pr
emium age you prefer for fuckin’?”

“Cat
ch ya later, June.” Larry hung up.

Juniper found it hard to hold in her
laughter during the phone call. Then, she remembered Monroe’s threat. Time to move on.

****

October 8
th

We’re out.

We’re free.

I would have never imagined it happening, and not the way it happened, either.

Nor would I have imagined I’d be eating peaches again. Canned, but still delicious fruit.

Last night was insane. Louise beat The Man to a bloody pulp, and we all thought He was dead. Then, a
monster with four arms (not two or three, but FOUR!) busted through the window, bars and all. If it hadn’t been for that, we might not have escaped. I feel bad admitting that, because it brought on the deaths of Marc and Gabriella, but in this world, we all don’t have long.

Anyway, Louise and I watched The Man stab
the red demon over and over, like he thought he’d find a prize inside of it. I was glad He killed it, ‘til I remembered we had just traded one evil thing for an even worse one. He stabbed Michael while trying to get out of the window. Still, Michael was okay. Both of them struggled on the ground, rolling around and cursing.

Michael got The Man in a hold and told me and Louise to GO! We were stupefied and stood there like morons. When he yelled at us to
go
again, we did. I went out the window first, and Louise came after. We waited for Michael, but when we heard a scream, Louise wanted to leave. It was obvious she didn’t want Him to come out of the window next. I was crying, told her we had to wait. She dragged me away until I was aware enough to run.

My first impulse upon feeling real ground under
neath my feet was to bend down and kiss it, and I did. It was stupid, and a waste of time, but I did it anyway. I was free! So many people I loved had died, and I barely had anything to live for. At the moment of my emancipation, I was only thinking of the sweet night air and how long it had been since I’d breathed it in. For too long, stale breath and shit-smeared corners had polluted my nose-way. No more.

Louise pulled at me to keep going
. Somehow, Michael’s instructions had stayed with us, and we ran to the front of the Man’s house, heading north. We hadn’t cleared the front lawn before comin’ upon The Man’s garden. It wasn’t a real garden. It was a trophy space, or like a display case, like for weirdos who collect butterflies on pins, but these weren’t butterflies. Each monster was stuck through the middle on a giant skewer. 

We passed by two demons that had more in common with
slugs. Huge slugs. The kind of toy slug that came out of the package one inch long, but when you put it in a bottle of water, it grew to fill up the bottle, straining at the sides. However, these were
nine
feet, maybe ten. Giant slugs with teeth all along their bellies. They must of smelled us, ‘cause when we walked by, they started squirming and mewling.

“Holy shit!”

Louise didn’t seem to care I had cursed aloud and neither did I. Those ugly suckers and the moment of our liv
es they’d inhabited deserved a “holy shit”, if not more.

Despite
the brick of fear in my stomach, I went on running with Louise. Staying Outside wasn’t an option. It was like a nightmare come true. The moon was out, but obscured, a lunar eclipse with a red film as its cover. The sky was overcast with black clouds. No flowers or trees were in bloom, and there were no animals. Well, plenty of dead ones, sure, along with human carcasses lined up on the roadside. Not as many as there might’ve been elsewhere. I could only imagine what the streets in the big city look like. Walking along the road, I mentally ran over Michael’s detailed instructions. I was sure Louise was doing the same thing:

“After you clear the front yard, keep heading north, or straight.
For about a mile, there’s nothing but field after field. Follow the fence next to the road and eventually you’ll see trees. That means you’re close. As the trees become denser, you’ll come to a mailbox. There’s a brick road beside that. Follow the road and there’ll be a gray stone wall. Beyond the iron gates, there’s a house. The people inside may be alive. If the house is empty, that’s even better because it’s hidden. We can camp out there for a few days until we figure out something more permanent.”

The walls Michael mentioned
were
high. Without the maintenance shed near it, we would have never gotten inside. We used an extendable ladder to climb over the stone wall, retrieving it once we figured out how to open the wrought-iron gates.

From inside the wall, the house
was still a quarter of a mile away. It sat on a hill, really more of an estate than a house. Big blue shutters gave the house a New England feel. Flower beds lined the walkway leading to the front door, but they were all withered to hell. Overall, it was a beautiful house. Yet, in the red-hued night we came upon it, the house appeared sinister. My imagination was going overtime, and I could see people watching us from the shadows of the windows as we approached.