19

TOM

Tom knew he didn’t know what he was doing. He knew rushing the building that harbored four armed men was beyond stupid. He knew he’d never make it out of there alive.

He knew that those two people he’d just met, whatever their names were, were completely right.

But all this reason, it was only a little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. It wasn’t any match for the animalistic impulses of revenge that surged through him.

His blood boiled. His body was sweating. His face felt hot. He was ready for action. He was ready to take out all the pain and frustration of a collapsing world on those who had tormented him. And what better candidates to rain down upon?

The new job had been his way out of his former life. He’d spent too many hours at his old job, dreaming the time away, completely miserable. His life had been grey and uneventful, painfully boring. Horrible in every way.

It was almost a miracle he’d gotten the job in the first place. Of course they knew he had no experience. But he had a familial connection, a great uncle, who was thankfully still alive, who happened to wield great political influence. And that influence, even in his great age, still worked wonders on the Pennsylvania Parks Department.

He should never have gotten the job. But he’d been lucky.

And then the world had ended.

He’d been barely surviving.

And then they’d started coming around. Tormenting him. Harassing him. Threatening him.

He couldn’t take it. It wasn’t just them. It was everything.

So maybe he didn’t know how to use the shotgun.

But how hard could it be?

Tom stood with his back flat against the exterior wall.

Inside, he could hear them talking. They were speaking to each other causally, chuckling and laughing.

“We got to wait here all day or what?”

“Kara will have our heads if we don’t.”

“But she didn’t even come back last night.”

“Yeah, man, maybe she’s a goner.”

“Kara? Nothing could kill her. She’s too tough.”

“Unfortunately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean. And don’t go running to tell her. She’d never believe you. She likes me more than you.”

The others laughed.

“You’re just hoping she’ll pick you when it’s time for her to mate.”

“Time for her to mate? She’s not an animal.”

“Hell, those were her own words. She’s cold-blooded, man. She doesn’t care about anything but power.”

“What’s having babies got to do with power?”

“Are you really that dense?”

“Do you really think she could be dead?”

“Maybe not dead. Maybe she decided to take a vacation. Go down to Hawaii and let the rest of us starve during the winter, like Washington at Valley Forge.”

“Washington didn’t take any vacation.”

They all laughed.

Somehow, the laugher made Tom’s blood run hotter.

They were the same men for sure. He recognized their voices.

Well, they’d pay soon enough.

Something inside Tom made him hesitate. Just for a moment. He glanced back at the little structure he’d been hiding out in, maybe to see if his new friends would come and try to hold him back. But there was no movement. They didn’t appear.

Well, that was the only answer he needed.

Tom held the shotgun as steadily as he could in front of him.

Maybe he’d been thinking that by waiting he’d change his mind. Maybe part of him knew it wouldn’t work, that it was a suicide mission, that it was the stupidest thing he’d ever do. And the last thing. Maybe he was hoping his new friends would save him from himself.

But whatever small part of rational thought was left in him, it wasn’t enough to overcome the animalistic desire and thirst for blood that roared through him. There was no stopping it.

Tom took a step. It seemed as if he was in a dream.

Another step.

The door was ajar.

Tom kicked the door. His foot felt good against the heavy metal. It felt like he was doing something. Accomplishing something.

The door burst open.

Three heads turned to him. Three looks of surprise greeted him.

The bastards. He’d take them all out.

Hadn’t there been four of them? Where was the other man? No time for that now. Got to act.

Tom had his shotgun level. He squeezed the trigger.

The kickback was more than he’d expected.

It hit one of them in the stomach. He cried out.

The rest were reaching for their guns.

Tom aimed the shotgun again.

But before he could pull the trigger, something hard hit him in the head. He heard it against his skull. It was impossibly loud. There wasn’t even time to register the noise, though. He blacked out.

He woke up in incredible pain. It was like the worst migraine he’d ever had, but ten times worse. He used to get them at his old job, where the fluorescent lights had always seemed to make it all worse.

Where was he?

“He’s awake,” said a gruff voice.

The memories came flooding back to him.

A blow hit him hard in the face. He heard something. Was it his nose? His cheekbone?

Painfully, he opened his eyes. He could just squint. There was something covering one of them, and it didn’t really open properly. Was it blood?

Three severe faces peered down at him. There was anger in their eyes.

“You shot Tommy.”

Tommy? Were they talking about him? He’d never gone by Tommy. He’d always hated the name.

“You shot him, you asshole.”

“We were going to just kill you, but Jim here had a better idea.”

“Yeah, I had a good one.”

“And he doesn’t get a lot of them.”

“Screw off.”

“It’s true.”

“That’s not the point. Listen, we’re going to have some fun with you.”

“We were just normal guys, you see, but…”

“The stress is getting to us.”

“Kara’s busting our balls.”

“She’s gone crazy.”

“You know how it is, don’t you, Mr. Park Ranger?”

Tom shook his head vigorously. Suddenly, the realness of the threat became apparent to him. These three guys were going to torture him. And then kill him. It was as clear as day. But he’d been dazed from the blow he’d received, and had been slow to catch on.

Tom tried to get up.

But he was tied. Tied to a table. The very same table he’d used, eaten on, and spread his maps on, as he’d tried to learn the geography and topography of the park.

Tom thrashed against the rope that bound him, but it was no use.

The three men chuckled at him.

One of them flicked out a knife. He held it menacingly, slowly closing the gap between Tom’s face and the glinting blade.

“I’m going to have fun with this.”

“Get on with it. Don’t take too long.”

“I’ll take as long as I like.”

“Yeah, where’s the fun if you can’t savor it?”

“Just do your thing so we can all have a turn.”

They didn’t want anything from him. They didn’t want information, apparently. They weren’t trying to extract something from him. They were just doing this because they could.

Tom screamed as the tip of the blade pierced his cheek. He felt the knife cutting through his face. He tasted the blood in his mouth, hot and flowing freely. His scream became garbled as the blood poured down his throat.

“All right, you’ve had enough. It’s my turn.”

“I thought I was next.”

The knife withdrew. But the pain did not.

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