They closed in on us. The look in their eyes was pure malevolence, their hands clenched.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “I don’t understand this.”
He started to back up and tripped over my feet. I went to steady him, gripping him tightly as I threw my arms around his chest.
“Let’s just go.”
Darren stepped out of the crowd, his lips tinged slightly red, as if he’d eaten marinara instead of blood.
“You!” he said. “You’ve returned!”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, trying to pull Bruce away. “He wandered away. I know he has no business here.”
I bumped into someone from behind. I turned and looked to see four of the members now holding me stationary.
Darren shook his head. “Sarah—”
“It’s Verdell,” I said.
“Why correct me?” he asked. “On your last night on earth, does it really matter?”
I swallowed hard, squeezed Bruce tighter.
“Please,” I said. “Just let us go. No harm done. We’re just lost, and we’ll survive on the other side of the hill.”
Bruce rolled his head back. “Darren?” he asked. “May I call you Darren?”
Darren stared him down with steely eyes.
“I would love to send you my reel,” he said. “Just to look at whenever you have a moment.”
“Your reel?” he asked.
“I was in a play that you reviewed,” Bruce continued. “I played the lead. Probably the most rewarding role I’ve ever experienced. You were nonplussed by the whole production. Frankly, I blame my costar. She didn’t understand the gravitas of her character.”
“Excuse me?” Darren asked.
“You called me Brian,” Bruce said. “You called me Brian Meals, but really, my actual name is Bruce Helio.”
Darren smiled and then withdrew his long, ragged homemade stick. Without an ounce of hesitation, he stabbed Bruce directly in the arm, grazing the side of my chest. Bruce immediately collapsed and gasped in pain. Blood oozed from the wound. He convulsed for a while, and I sank to my knees and threw my arms around him.
“It’s going to be okay!” I said, feeling panic grow. “It’s just your arm!”
“If I die,” he said. “Find my mom and tell her being an actor is a real job.”
“Well, no,” I said, trying to prop him up.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head, briefly making contact with mine as Darren poked the side of his body with his fancy foreign sneaker, which now had a ragged hole forming.
Hands grabbed me and pulled me to my feet, forcing me to let go of Bruce. Darren braced his stick. My mind reeled and the world seemed to move in slow motion, but in the far reaches of my memory, I saw myself as a twelve-year-old in karate class. I saw my old instructor.
“Strike the weakness,” he’d said. “Keep your head.”
With all my might, I stomped down on the foot of one of the robed men and jabbed an elbow into his side. He let go for long enough for me to slip through his hands. One of the other members tried to grab me as Darren aimed for me but missed. I held the palm of my hand out and shoved it with force into the other attacker’s nose. He screamed in pain, and I ran.
I ran and ran, tripping and falling, and at some point I banged my knee into a tree trunk, and it was then I stopped, out of breath and my mind reeling in fear.
I stopped long enough to hear the chanting below.
“He was not worthy for another day on this Earth!” Darren exclaimed.
The crowd cheered.
Poor Bruce. He was finally the center of attention and most likely getting a good review from Darren Warren. My body shook so badly the only thing I could do was fall to the ground.
It was so dark out, but I could make out the shadow of a cabin up ahead. The last thing I wanted was to die alone in the forest, so I took my chances and ran for it instead of the house.
CHAPTER 6
Humanity is a Two-Way Street
THE CABIN REEKED worse than anything I had ever smelled and I gagged after taking a step inside. I felt something soft and squishy under my feet, which made me thankful it was dark. In the corner by a window was a chair, and I moved toward it and then grasped the back of it, vowing to not sit on the floor.
I covered my face with the lapel of my jacket to block some of the stench.
At least it makes for an easier breakup… a tiny voice in my mind sputtered.
It was shocking that a thought like that even existed in my head.
“People are going to be much more sympathetic when they hear about it….”
I’m really not sure what I was more horrified about. The fact that I thought it or the fact that I agreed with it.
A shuffling came from outside, and I froze up again, nose still under my jacket. There were voices muffled and hazed, and I shivered in fear. I whispered a prayer under my breath and sank deeper into the chair, asking first for forgiveness for the horrible thoughts I’d had just moments prior.
“…and my BlackBerry still doesn’t work!” I heard the voice exclaim.
I jerked my head up and looked through a nearby grimy window only to see Robert shuffling through the dead leaves and holding up his device to the sky.
I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but the stench wouldn’t allow it. Immediately, a reflex in me, made me suck back in the breath, which caused me to retch on the floor.
Which was when Debra entered the room and saw me.
“Dammit,” she said. “A homeless person beat us here already.”
“It’s just me,” I said.
“That smell is you?” she asked.
“I don’t know what it is,” I said. “But it’s not me.”
“I don’t think there’s any way we can’t prove it,” she said. “So I’m just going to assume it was you.”
“How did you find this place? What are you doing?”
She covered her face with her hands as Robert entered.
“Debra made the toilets flow. Is there a working outlet in here?” he said. “What the fuck is that smell?”
“She says she doesn’t know,” Debra said, rolling her eyes. “I have my suspicions.”
“It’s not me!” I said. The hurt and desperation from everything was building and my voice cracked under its own weight. “I don’t stink and I’m not a bad person.”
“If you’re going to cry, you should pick something better to cry about,” Debra said. “Bruce was right.”
“Bruce is dead!” I shouted. “He’s dead. And now he’ll never apologize to me for being a jerk.”
Both were silent.
At that moment, I sobbed and couldn’t stop. The smell and thought of Bruce so violently killed was too much to handle, and it was the only thing I could think to do. I cried for not knowing if my family was alive. I cried because I was willing to spend my time doing data instead of something that really mattered, like looking after stray puppies or something. Debra and Robert just stared at me while it happened.
She shrugged and mouthed, “I don’t know.”
At some point, I felt someone rub my back in a slow comforting manner. I looked up and saw Robert standing next to me, his face full of genuine concern.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “What happened?”
“It’s those people,” I said. “The ones we took supplies from. I tried. I really tried to warn them and—”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The stench in the room didn’t help either.
“You know what I like to think about in times like this?” Robert asked as he opened his risk management book and started to read. “It’s difficult to effectively respond to things like hours upon hours of complaining. Wanting to toot someone’s horn, but another team member getting upset at that. Wondering why the balance of power in the office suddenly shifts when a new employee is added. “