Jimmy (15 page)

     “In
Newsweek?
” Jimmy asked.

     “Shit, I’m serious.  You read about stuff like that all the time in the papers or hear about it on the news.  It’s crazy.  People don’t think when their sex drive starts up.  In fact, I was watching something on the Discovery Channel a few weeks ago that said a man’s mind loses the ability for rational thought once their body gets really turned on, which is probably why so many guys say screw it when they don’t have a condom but still dive into a girl’s pussy and then get her pregnant.”

     Jimmy thought about that and about all the times he had purchased subscriptions to bondage sites when getting turned on, something that he almost always regretted afterward once he was finished and thought about the money he had wasted.  It made sense.

     “You know, if something did happen to that girl no one will really care right now because of the oil spill,” Alan said.  “No one outside of town, that is, because the news won’t care.  A few years ago they would have because kidnappings were like a news fad, but now, not so much.”

     Jimmy hadn’t really thought about this, but now realized his brother was probably right.

     “Do you think she will find anything?” he asked.

     “Who, the sheriff’s daughter, what’s her name again?”

     “Megan.”

     “Maybe, but only if there is something over there and only if it isn’t like buried ten feet beneath the surface of the forest.  I mean, there still is the chance she just split town.  I know some don’t think so because of the prom, but it’s still a possibility.”

     “Yeah,” Jimmy said, not really hearing what Alan said and instead just focusing on Megan Reed and the chance that she might find the fallout shelter.

     He couldn’t let that happen. 

*  *  *

     Megan wasn’t really sure if she was going to accomplish anything but thought it was better to go out and take a look around than just sit at home angry, which is what she would have done.  Now at least she could feel somewhat productive.

     She had made the decision to look around while talking with Steven, whom she felt sorry for because she knew he loved Samantha yet wasn’t being recognized for it due to the fact that it was just a high school relationship.  What most didn’t realize is that their relationship was special, one of the ones that seemed almost like a fairytale, especially ten years later once they had kids and were enjoying a perfect life.

     She started her little investigation by walking the route to Samantha’s house.  Once there, she started walking back toward the school, slowly this time, her eyes trying to see if anything jumped out at her. 

     Something did, but it wasn’t what she was expecting.

     “Jimmy, what are you doing out here?” Megan asked as he rode up to her on his bike.

     “I saw you walking this way on my way home and remembered what you said in the hallway today and it made me remember something I found a few years ago that might help.”

     “Oh, what is it?”

     “Come on, I’ll show you.” 

     Megan followed Jimmy down the wooded road.  He was now walking his bike so she wouldn’t have any trouble keeping up.  The two did not talk.

     Five minutes later they came upon the Hood place, Jimmy still in the lead, Megan behind him wondering why he wouldn’t just tell her what he thought was so important.  She also wondered why, if it was important, he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else, but didn’t really think too hard on that because she knew from the books she read that people sometimes didn’t realize how important something was until something else clicked.  Like the odd bulge she saw beneath Jimmy’s sweatshirt while walking, one which he hadn’t been wearing at school given the warm day they were having.  Though familiar, she never realized it was identical to the bulge she saw beneath her father’s sweatshirts when they would go out as a family and he was required to carry a gun.  Of course, he could have carried the gun on the outside of his clothes and no one would have said anything knowing who he was, but he always preferred to tuck it away.  Had she made this realization sooner the coming events might have been different.

*  *  *

     Jimmy couldn’t believe she was still on the street walking around when he came by and had figured he would have to call everything off if he couldn’t find her, his mind knowing he could only grab her if she was near the house because anywhere else and it would be too difficult to get her to the fallout shelter, especially without a car.

     He also couldn’t believe how uncomfortable carrying a gun could be, especially while riding a bike, and wondered why so many people across the country were pushing for open firearm carry laws?  After all, who would want to carry something so heavy all over the place?  Sure, it would be cool at first, but after a while it would become an annoying burden.

*  *  *

     “It never even occurred to me that she could be down here,” Jimmy said.  “I mean, I’ve known about this place for a long time.”  He reached toward the ground while saying this, his fingers grabbing hold of something she couldn’t make out.  “But kind of forgot about it until you mentioned this place and the possibility that she was attacked.”  It was a ring he was holding, one that completely blended in with the dirt, and without warning a giant square of dirt lifted up.

     “What the hell,” Megan said.

     “It’s an old fallout shelter,” Jimmy said, one the Hoods built for something back in the eighties or nineties, maybe Y2K or just out of fear from watching
Red Dawn
too many times.”

     “Is there anything down there?” Megan asked while peeking down the stairs.

     “I don’t know, but you know what.  You see that padlock right there, the one that someone forgot to close when leaving?”  Jimmy pointed down with his free hand.

     “Yeah?”

     “That was never there the last time I looked down there and why would someone lock up that door from the outside?”

     “Oh my God, did you look inside?”

     “Not yet.”

     “We have to look inside,” Megan said.  “What if she’s in there and she’s hurt?”  With that Megan started toward the door, but then froze, her mind suddenly realizing that Jimmy would have looked himself earlier if what he said was true, and quickly turned around, fear suddenly gripping her.

     Jimmy was pointing a gun on her.

*  *  *

     Jimmy’s heart was racing as he held the gun, which had actually snagged on his jeans while being pulled out and nearly fell to the floor while he fumbled with it.  Thankfully her back had been turned to him during that and now that she was facing him he had nice firm grip.

     “Go on, open the door,” he said.  “Your friend is waiting.”

     “You fucking bastard!” Megan shouted, spittle flying from her lips.  “I should have known you were a sick twisted freak.”

     “Inside!” Jimmy snapped, his hand motioning with the gun.

     Megan reluctantly did as he ordered, her face red with anger, yet also hinting at fear.

     “The light is on the right,” Jimmy said.  “Turn it on and walk into the middle of the room.”

     Megan did, her hand fumbling for a moment before it found the light.  Once it was on she gasped.  A second later she ran into the room.

     “Don’t touch her!” Jimmy shouted as he followed her inside, his left hand pushing shut the door behind him. 

     Megan ignored his command and tried to console Samantha, her hands caressing her bruised face and then reaching up to try and untie the knots from around her wrists, which, of course, was a hopeless endeavor. 

     Jimmy rushed forward and tried to pull her away.

     Megan spun around and before he even realized what had happened the gun was knocked from his hand.

     A second blow came toward his face, this one from the same forearm that had knocked the gun away.

     Jimmy deflected it with his elbow, hurting both of them, and looked toward where the gun had landed. 

     Megan followed his gaze and dove for it.

     Jimmy was a second behind her, panic starting to overwhelm his senses.

     Megan grabbed the gun.

     At the same time Jimmy stepped onto her hand, hard, and heard what had to be a bone crunching, though he couldn’t be sure.  A second later he kicked her in the chest, his foot actually recognizing the feel of her boob compressing despite the fact that Samantha’s breasts had been the first ones he ever touched. 

     Megan grunted and tried to grab the gun again.

     Jimmy kicked her hand away and took hold of it himself and pointed it down at her.

     Megan still didn’t stop and grabbed his leg and tried digging her nails into it, but couldn’t get much of a grip thanks to the jean fabric.

     Jimmy kicked her again and screamed at her to stop, his mind wondering how the hell he would get her hands tied with her fighting so much.

     Megan didn’t listen.

     Heart racing, Jimmy kicked her again, hard, and then grabbed hold a chunk of her hair, which he used to lift half her body into the air, her hands digging her nails into his own hands.

     “Let go!” he demanded while pressing the gun into her temple.  He didn’t want to pull the trigger, not when he knew he could have so much fun with her down here, but would if forced to.  After all, it was better to shoot her in the head and kill her than to risk her escaping and bringing her dad here.

     Megan dug deeper.

     He hit her with the butt of the gun, not hard, but with enough force to hurt her.

     Megan’s fingers relaxed, but still didn’t release, and then started to tighten again once she regained her senses.

     He hit her again, harder and then pointed the gun at Samantha.  “Let go or I’ll shoot your friend!”

     This time he received the compliance he was looking for, but it only lasted a second, because the moment he lowered the gun and looked at the damage done to his hand, one which still held her hair, she grabbed his testicles and twisted, a cry of fury echoing from her lips as one of pain echoed from his.

     Jimmy tried pulling away but couldn’t and had no choice but to hit her with some serious force.

     The hand released him as her eyes rolled backward. 

Chapter Eight

     Samantha was broken and didn’t even realize Jimmy had returned to the room with another girl until the hand touched her face.  Even then she couldn’t really register what was going on, the pain being the only thing her mind understood, though even that was fading and turning into nothing more than a noticeable ache. 

     Sounds echoed from her left.

     Samantha eased her eyes toward the source of the struggle, but didn’t really see what was going on, nor did she care because it didn’t seem to have an immediate affect upon her.  The idea that one of them could free the rope didn’t enter her mind because the very idea of being free no longer seemed real.  Instead she just watched what was happening without any emotion or opinion, the way a dog might watch a little league sport match outside the window. 

*  *  *

     Megan drifted in and out of consciousness the way a person on a twilight drug during a medical operation would come and go, her mind seeing and registering things, but not really processing them, at least not at that point in time.  Even the tug of the rope above that secured her hands wasn’t fully understood, yet the discomfort was.  She also made several attempts to stand up even though her body couldn’t balance itself, her feet always trying to find a firm spot on what seemed to be a wobbly floor.  All of these attempts failed and caused the tug of the ropes to be more intense, though the association between the two wasn’t understood.        

*  *  *

     “What happened to you?” Alan asked as Jimmy walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

     “I fell off my bike into a thorny weedy mess on the side of the road,” Jimmy said.

     “My God, are you okay?”

     Jimmy looked at his left hand and wrist which had suffered the worse of Megan’s nails, huge gouges marking where the flesh had been peeled away, and said, “Yeah, I think so, though these hurt like hell.”

     “Was it Brett?”

     “No, though it might as well have been him because I was looking back to make sure it wasn’t him coming up behind me when I hit a broken patch of road and went right into the brush.”  He winced as he ran his arm under the water.  “But I guess I should be thankful nothing is broken and that I didn’t hit the bump and fall right in front of the car.”

     “Yeah really.”

     He added soap to his arm, his mind not even wanting to consider trying the peroxide on this, and squeezed his lips together for a second before saying, “Fuck!”