Off the Wagon (Users #2) (11 page)

The barbs had only penetrated Carter’s chest muscles, Walt having taken the brunt of the spikes. Slowly, Barber pulled the spikes back, releasing Carter first, then after many moments he released Walt. The old man slumped forward to his knees, but had his neck craned up to stare Barber in the face.

“Walt?” Barber asked. “What’s…where am I?”

A look of terror was splayed across Barber’s face as he eyed the two massive holes running straight through Walt’s chest. “Why?”

“It’s…okay,” Walt wheezed and fell back to the floor. Blood stained Walt’s teeth red. “Take care of him Carter.”

A vacant expression came over Walt and Carter knew he was gone.

Chapter 12

“How did this happen?” Barber asked.

“You were pushed,” Carter said.

“By who?” Barber asked through clenched teeth.

The young man’s face wore a grimace, his lower jaw sticking out like a pit bull about ready to bite someone’s head off.

“Him.” Carter pointed to Frank’s lifeless body lying face down on the floor, a puddle of bloody drool dripping from his lips.

Carter stalked over to Frank’s prone body like a lion checking for signs of life in its prey before it went in for the kill.

Barber grabbed Frank by the collar of his button up silk shirt and lifted his head from the floor. Frank hung limply from Barber’s hands.

“Wake up!” Barber shook Frank like a rag doll. “I said wake up you bastard!”

Barber hit Frank across the face with a loud slap. The man’s eyes popped wide open. Frank looked from Barber, to Carter, to Walt’s dead body, before finally turning his gaze back on Barber.

“What happened?” Frank asked.

“You made a big mistake,” Barber said with a strange, even, calm in his voice that scared Carter a little.

Barber’s spikes shrank back into his forearms as he cocked back with his right arm.

“I’m not using my powers on you. I want to feel your pain.”

He punched Frank right in the face and the back of Frank’s head bounced off the concrete floor. Frank cried in pain.

“Let’s take out those eyes of yours first, so you cannot push anyone ever again,” Barber said as he blasted Frank in one eye, then cocked back and went for the other.

Frank’s eyes swelled up almost instantly from the savage blows.

“Get him off of me!” Frank cried, but there was no one to save him.

All his minions were too busy. They were off fighting the compound’s Users, and from the sounds that came from beyond the door, they were losing. Barber punched him square in the face again, and again. Frank thrashed and kicked, trying desperately to dislodge Barber’s grip on him.

The only person who could stop Barber was Carter, and as he looked upon Walt’s lifeless body, he didn’t much feel like it at that moment. The skin above Frank’s eye split and blood dripped into what little was left of the crevice of his eye socket. Barber punched him again and the back of Frank’s skull cracked against the concrete floor. The cartilage in Frank’s nose crunched as Barber hit him again.

“You son of a bitch!” Barber screamed. He punched Frank again.

Now Barber was soaked in blood that was not his own. He was in a rage, the likes of which Carter had rarely seen and only in his darkest days. It was the kind of rage that only the loss of a loved one could inspire, a mother losing her son, or a son losing the only father figure he had ever known in his short, but painful life.

“You fucking die!” Barber punched Frank again.

Carter knew he should stop the young man, that this was something Barber may later regret, but it was also something that if he did stop, may make Barber resent Carter for the rest of his life. No, Barber needed this. He needed to work this out, and it was between him and Frank. Frank put a hand to Barber’s face in a futile attempt to defend himself, but Barber just slapped it away.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Barber shouted, but Carter knew Frank wasn’t hearing him.

Frank didn’t appear to be hearing anything. The man was in his death throes, but that didn’t stop Barber.

Frank gurgled something undecipherable, but all that came out of his mouth was a bubble of blood. Barber wailed on Frank repeatedly, until finally a long spike came sliding out of his forearm.

“Now you die,” Barber said as he slammed his spike in through Frank’s eye and out the back of the man’s head.

There was a moment of silence.

“It is done,” Carter said.

“It is.”

Barber finally let go of Frank’s collar, dropping the man into a puddle of his own gore.

“Ouch!” Barber lifted his fist to inspect the damage.

There were bleach white bits of broken teeth stuck in his knuckles. The bone on his pinkie finger was jutting out to the side and was definitely broken. The rest of his fingers and knuckles were too drenched in blood for Carter to tell how extensive the damage was, but he assumed at least a few more of the bones in the kid’s hand were broken. Barber’s bleach blond hair had a splattering of red highlights made of blood and his face had been sprayed with dots of crimson.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Carter said. “I don’t care how well blinded they’ve got this place, that much gunfire is going to bring the police. A lot of them.”

Evan burst through the door with Vince and Cody right behind him. Evan was bleeding from his nose and had his arm tucked in close to his body as if his shoulder were broken. All three of them nearly stepped on Walt’s lifeless body. Their eyes went wide, but they said nothing. Perhaps they couldn’t find the right words. None of them could. What would they say? No words could make this better. There was no fixing this.

“Are you guys okay?” Vince asked breaking the long silence.

“We’re not, but we’re alive,” Barber answered for them both.

“We’ve gotta go,” Carter repeated.

“Not without Walt’s body,” Barber said looking to Vince and Cody for help.

Carter and Evan were too wounded to support another’s weight. The trio lifted Walt’s lifeless body from the floor and carried him from the room, out through the absolutely thrashed warehouse, and into the alleyway. All the while, Barber cradled Walt’s head in one hand.

“Let’s go.” Carter called to the rest of the compound’s Users. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here now.”

“What about the other Users?” Lucy asked.

A handful of Frank’s Users had surrendered as the fight became a one sided affair, and were now huddled in one corner of the warehouse.

“Leave them,” Carter said. “The cops will find them soon enough.”

*****

Four days later the Users held a private memorial at the compound for those that had fallen in the battle at the warehouse. Rows of lawn chairs had been laid out in front of the big house and there wasn’t an empty seat to be found. There was no podium to stand on, no grand monument to those that had died, just a simple set up that allowed for those that wanted to speak, to say a few words.

“Is this even legal?” Carter asked.

“What are you talking about?” Barber asked in return.

“Burying our friends in the backyard like this? That can’t be legal,” Carter said.

“Since when did you start worrying about what was legal?”

Evan, who was the first to speak, stopped and gave them the stink eye until the two of them stopped talking before continuing.

Carter couldn’t bring himself to go up before everyone and say something. He felt solely responsible for the death of Walt and the four other Users who had perished that day in the fight to save Barber. Who else was there to blame? No one that Carter could think of. He had fucked up again, and this time friends had lost their lives.

Sure he had killed Fox, but that was different. These were good people, people who risked their very lives just to save another’s. While Fox on the other hand only preyed upon the weakness of her fellow man.

Vince went up after Evan had finished and he gave a great eulogy, as expected. A few others followed and there were moments of joy, moments of laughter, and of course moments of tears.

The sun shown bright that day as if the angels had cleared the sky of its normal overcast and rain just for the occasion. After everyone had said their piece, Walt and the other fallen members of the compound were lowered into a row of graves in a grassy patch near the edge of the forest beyond the cabins. Cody created small headstones using his Changer powers to turn raw stone into beautiful works of art, each marking the date of birth and death along with the names of the fallen.

“This is where he would have wanted to have been buried,” Carter said to Barber as they stood over the hole that contained Walt’s casket. Barber didn’t answer. He bent down, grabbed a handful of dirt, and tossed it into the hole. Carter did the same, but with much effort, the twin holes in his chest from the stabbing Barber had given him were still sore. Doc had patched Carter up as best he could, but the holes had penetrated both of his pecks, and made lifting even a handful of dirt a chore.

“Barber,” Carter said. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah,” Barber said.

“I know I haven’t been a very good sponsor.”

“No, you haven’t, but then again I didn’t expect you to be,” Barber said. “Not at first anyway. You’ll do better the next time.”

“I will do what I can,” Carter said. “I promise when we get back to the apartment to spend more time at home.”

Barber’s face twisted in confusion.

“We’re not going back to the apartment,” Barber said with conviction.

Carter felt like he had been slapped in the face. After everything they had gone through, Barber apparently wasn’t going to stick with him after all.

“You’re not?” Carter asked.

“No, WE are not,” Barber clarified.

“Okay, why?”

“We’ve got to stay here,” Barber said. “You have got to take Walt’s place.”

“Me? You must be joking.” The thought of trying to fill Walt’s shoes seemed to Carter to be an exercise in futility.

“The compound needs a leader,” Barber said, turned, and walked away as if the matter was settled.

Carter sighed. It was going to be a long day

Epilogue 1

The next N.A. meeting was abuzz with talk of a new User joining the group. All thoughts of the fight at the warehouse and Walt’s death seeming to have been long forgotten for all the groups members, except for Carter and Barber. The gossip going around the group was of a new member named Ryker. Rumor had it that he was tall, blond, and handsome, like he was one of the fucking Hemsworth brothers or something.

Carter couldn’t give a lesser shit, but everyone other than him and Barber seemed to be in a tizzy over the emanate arrival of Ryker. Vince and Cody appeared especially besides themselves, no shocker there. The two of them probably wanted to make a manwich out of him, and they were going to be the bread. His internal monologue must have shown on his face.

“What are you thinking about?” Barber asked.

“What? Oh, nothing,” Carter answered, brought back to reality. “Why?”

“You had a strange look on your face just now.” Barber eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s nothing.” Carter put his head down and shook it from side to side quickly, trying to cover up his smirk at the thought of his manwich joke.

“You’re not thinking of backing out are you?”

“No, of course not,” Carter said. “It’s just…what am I going to do with the apartment?”

“Keep it,” Barber said. “Let it be your home away from home. You’ll always need a place in the city for when you’re out fighting crime. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

“What about the bills and rent?” Carter asked.

“Look at it this way; you don’t have to pay back Walt anymore for the down payment on the place, so you’ll have plenty of money to cover the rent,” Barber said.

The casual way Barber spoke about Walt made Carter a little nervous. Was the young man still in shock? Or was he truly over it already? Only time would tell, but unfortunately for Carter there were more immediate problems that needed attention. His attention, and the attention of everyone else in the room. A click from the handle at the front door had every User in the room turning to eye the newcomer.

As the door opened fully, the bright light from behind illuminated a statuesque silhouette, and with the grace of Fred Astaire, in strode the man Carter had already stamped interloper. It was like a scene out of a cheesy movie; there might as well have been god damn white doves fluttering around this guys head. He had literally sucked the air out of the room and now everyone waited, silent and with bated breath for him to speak. Everyone, except for Vince.

“Ryker I presume,” Vince said getting to his feet and rushing over to be the first to shake the man’s hand.

Suddenly, Vince was lord fucking fancy pants. Carter eyed him with judgment as he scurried over toward the newcomer. He wished for just this second, he were a Mover and could trip him up with his mind. Man that would be funny, Vince falling right on his face in front of his dream man. He snickered to himself and the woman across from him cleared her throat and glared at him as though he had interrupted her own fantasy. He waved at her with his very best shit-eating grin. She snorted and rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Ryker. Carter flipped her off, once he was sure he was out of her peripherals. He was certain there was an intimate moment playing out in her mind starring Fabio van Hitler over there.