How I Spent the Apocalypse (15 page)

“Are you alright?” we asked together.

“I’m fine. It hit you, you hit me, and I just flew right off the back of the ATV into the trailer,” Lucy said. “I don’t even think they knew I was there. They hit you full on, though, how are you?”

She was lucky the four wheeler had an automatic kill switch. When there was no one in the seat the engine died otherwise God alone knows where she might have ended up.

I wiped the blood and brains off my goggles. “I’m alright let’s just…” When I went to get up I really couldn’t. My ribs were at least bruised, and there isn’t much hurts worse. “Alright, I’m hurt pretty bad. Help me up and let’s just get back to the house.”

Lucy helped me up. “You want me to drive?”

“Can you?”

“Yes, I think so. I’ve watched you do it enough.”

“Then get their guns and let’s go.” My ribs and back were suddenly killing me. I was hurt, and thinking that I was hurt much worse than I had initially thought. I leaned against Lucy as she drove, which couldn’t have made it easy for her. The pain was so bad I thought I might pass out, and I knew then that the ribs weren’t my only problem. My lower back had gone out. In fact, it felt like I might have actually hit my tail bone on something. Thank God I was wearing all that arctic gear or I most probably would have been broken all to shit—or dead.

Billy must have been watching the gate on the monitor because he was there when we got there, and when he saw Lucy was driving he immediately asked, “What’s wrong with Mom?”

“How do you know anything’s wrong?” I hissed.

“You were with Mom for twelve years, and in all that time you never let Mom drive you on or in anything. Now what’s wrong?”

“It’s cold and I’m hurt. Shut the fucking gate and meet us in the shop.”

The shop’s big. Big enough that the door is just big enough for the Isuzu truck to fit in, which means you have to drive and maneuver to get everything I’ve got in there in and be able to get it out—and it’s not a problem. The door slides sideways on tracks into the wall. Billy ran in behind us, closing the doors, and then Jimmy was there and the two of them were near pulling me in two trying to help me off the four-wheeler.

“God-dammit boys! One of you on each side. Lock your hands under my ass and pick me up.”

“What happened?” Billy demanded as he and Jimmy lifted me.

“The Burkholder boys ambushed us. I’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for Lucy,” I said as they carried me in the house. “My ribs are cracked and my lower back is out. Other than that I’m fine, I’m not going to die or anything, so you can stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m going to kill those fucking assholes,” Jimmy swore.

“We already killed them. Can’t you see I’m wearing part of old Greg here? See? A little blood and a little brain, not much brain ’cause he didn’t have much to start with.”

“Damn.” Lucy rushed past us and into the bathroom where as the boys lay me on the bed I could hear her throwing up. “Lucy killed Greg. Shot him right in the back of the head.”

“Wow, I didn’t think she had it in her,” Jimmy said.

“Me, either. I don’t think she could have done it if she’d had time to think about it.” I frowned then. Someone like Lucy shouldn’t be forced to do something like that. I knew it was going to bother her. It already was.

“Help me get out of my clothes, Jimmy,” I said. Because you see Jimmy, for all his other faults, has a gentle hand. Billy goes at everything like he’s killing snakes. When Jimmy was a kid his favorite thing to do was put together models. The more intricate the design and the more pieces there were, the better he liked it. Billy didn’t have the patience for something like that, but Jimmy did.

“I’ll do it,” Lucy said, walking into the room. She had already started shedding her own Arctic garb.

“You alright?”

She just nodded.

It wound up taking all three of them to get me out of the suit without killing me. At one point Lucy suggested we cut my clothes off of me, and I exclaimed, “Over my dead body!” When we were down to just my thermal underwear the boys left. I couldn’t sit up. All I could do was lie there on my back—which by the way didn’t feel too good on my ass. I realized at that moment it was my right ass cheek that was bruised and not my tail bone, for which I was glad.

“What now?” Lucy asked.

“Don’t know, give me a second to think,” I said. “Sit on the end of the bed where I can see you.” She was standing beside the bed, and I had to push my head back to look at her. Even that hurt. Lucy sat on the bed and I could see her better. She looked near tears and nervous as a cat. “Lucy, you saved my life. If you hadn’t killed him, we’d both be dead now.”

“I know, I’m not thinking about that, that’s not what I’m thinking about at all. I suppose I will and maybe I should, but that’s not why I got sick and that’s not why I’m upset. I’m worried about you and… You almost got killed, and you’re all I have. And… Katy why did you want to leave me in that town, why?”

“I didn’t
want
to leave you in town,” I said honestly. “I just thought you should have the option.”

“Don’t you think if I had wanted to stay there I would have said so?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging, which was a way bad move because it hurt a lot.

“Maybe I should look at it?” Lucy asked more than said.

“Maybe. Hell, I don’t know, Lucy. If it was someone else I’d know, but me, fuck…”

“Tell me what to do.”

“I think… I think my ribs are just cracked at the worst. They hurt like a mother fucker, but the longer I just lay here the more I realize that it’s my back that’s killing me. It’s out and I could probably get it back in myself but not without killing my ribs.”

Lucy crawled over on the bed and lifted up my shirt. She made a face. “They are really bruised already. Can you… Well, can you lay on your side? The other one of course.”

“If you help me.”

She did, and then she slid in to lie on her side behind me. She pulled up my shirt and started to feel around with her fingers on the small of my back. It felt good, and almost immediately the shooting pains that were going down my legs stopped. It was obvious she knew what she was doing before she said, “I used to date a chiropractor.”

Her breath was touching the back of my neck and making me momentarily forget about my pain. Who knows, maybe that was her intention? She put one hand on my stomach just under my belly button, and sort of pulled me back into her other hand where her fingers seemed to be moving my spine. Then there was a popping noise and all my back pain was gone. It felt so good I think that if my ribs didn’t hurt so bad I might have had orgasm right there on the spot.

“Did I get it?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, and I must have sounded as relieved as I felt because she chuckled.

“So, I’m not completely worthless then?” she asked.

“Not at all. I feel like you saved my life twice now.”

“So we’re even,” Lucy said. “So what about the ribs?”

“You know what? Now that you fixed my back I can live with the ribs and there’s nothing that can really be done with them anyway… No, wait. There’s some massage oil with arnica in it on the bedside table. Grab that and rub it on my ribs.”

She did so, rubbing so gently it hardly hurt at all.

“So what about your ass?”

“What about it?” I asked.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yeah, but...”

“Maybe I should rub some oil on that bruise.”

I wasn’t going to argue with her.

“Ouch,” she said. “It looks terrible.”

“My ass or the bruising?” I asked with a laugh.

“The bruising. It’s not a bad ass at all.”

“You are the damndest straight chick I have ever met.”

“And you’re the damndest queer chick I’ve ever met,” she said, but I didn’t get to question her about it because then she said in a really serious voice. “Was that the first time you killed someone?”
            “In self-defense, yep, but I murdered a man once.”

She quit rubbing my ass so I was already sorry I said it.

“What?”

“He needed killing,” I explained.

“Why what did he do?”

“You can’t tell the boys,” I said in a whisper.

“Alright.” She got up then and closed the door to my room, I guessed just to make sure they couldn’t hear. Then she took the blanket off the foot of the bed and used it to cover us both up as she lay beside me, facing me. She looked at me expectantly.

“When I first met Cindy she was pregnant with Jimmy and she had Billy and he was just a little over a year old and she was a screwed-up mess. She had been a stripper and was on crank when she got pregnant with Billy and she had cleaned up her act and had worked very hard to make a better life for her and for him. She got off the drugs, stopped smoking, got a job at a drug store, got a nice little apartment, and then one night she’s closing the drug store and this fucker forces his way in and rapes her. She turns him in, he gets convicted, she winds up pregnant, and her head is just a mess.

“I met her and we fell instantly and completely in love, and then none of it mattered. Jimmy was our baby, and we were going to raise our kids and build a home and have a life. We did and everything was great for five years. Then this dickhead gets out of prison and he starts the paperwork to get visitation rights with our son.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not. He violently raped my wife, he only served five years for it, and then was going to try to have partial custody of our son. It looked like the state was going to give it to him because he had been “rehabilitated,” and they thought it was a good idea for Jimmy to have a male influence in his life since we were both women. We were queer and so it was better for him to have contact with a convicted rapist to learn how to be a man.

“I wasn’t about to let that happen, so I started tracking the fucker till I knew what he ate, what he drank, where he went, and what he did. So one night I pull in across the street as he pulls up to a quick pick. I see him trying to be the last guy in as a girl is closing up. As he grabs her and pulls her inside I start the car, pull up to the pumps, and park. I grab the aluminum baseball bat off my seat, knock the glass out of the door, run in and this guy is so caught-up in what he’s doing to this girl that he doesn’t even hear or see me, so I just run up behind him and I clock him in the back of the head right at the base of his skull good and hard. Hard enough to sever his spine. The only problem is that he dies too quick. I pull the girl out from underneath him and she’s bruised and battered, but not raped yet and just amazingly grateful and… Well the whole thing’s on tape and I tell the cops I swung in to get gas hoping, that I wasn’t too late, and when I saw what was happening I didn’t think, I just acted.

“You saved that woman, how is that murder?”

“Oh, better than murder, it was premeditated murder. See, a rapist never gets “cured,” there is no rehabilitating a rapist. I followed him because I knew it was only a matter of time before he had to do it again. See, rape is a compulsive behavior and I know all about compulsive behaviors. I hit him where I hit him because I knew it was the best and quickest way to kill him. I never told anyone that before, even Cindy just thought it was fate.” I smiled. “You would have figured it out, but she never did. And I don’t feel guilty. Didn’t even on the day I did it. The reason I don’t want the boys to know is that Jimmy has enough problems without finding out his father raped his mother. He thinks Cindy and I decided to have him. That we went to a sperm bank and had him that way. It makes him feel special. I don’t want either of the boys to know their mother was raped. What would be the point?”