Crossing Bedlam (28 page)

“You’re an odd one,” Lloyd claims over the lip of his drink. Slurping down the last of the coffee, he looms over the short woman and runs a hand through his hair. “I can tell when I’m not wanted. So I’ll take a walk around and come back in an hour or two. This evil man promises to avoid your territory and be out of your hair soon.”

Not wanting to get too close, Cami stretches to pat Lloyd on the shoulder while turning him toward the exit. “Thank you for your understanding. I will look after your friend and jeep. Trust that I won’t turn her against you.”

“You’re one of those people who don’t hear their own words, huh?”

Feeling uncomfortable around the mechanic, Lloyd turns to get out from under her touch and backs out of the garage. She politely closes and locks the door behind the serial killer, who they can still see through the window. He tucks his hands in his pockets before walking out of sight, leaving the women alone.

“How do you know there is a darkness about my friend?” Cassidy asks, following her host to a collection of tires. Not wanting to wait for an answer, she catches the spikey-haired woman by the wrist with a small amount of force. “I’m well aware of who and what he is, but one could say that I’m not any better. Outside of this place, one has to kill and steal to survive. I’ve done both and worse. What makes me worthy of your kindness and not my friend?”

“It’s in the eyes,” Cami sweetly replies as if the answer is obvious. Freeing herself from the traveler’s hand, she wrestles the necessary tires out of her collection. “Your friend shows no remorse for what he has done. His eyes are cold at their core and one who pays attention to such things can tell that he enjoys being evil. You, on the other hand, still have a spark of humanity in your eyes. There is a desire to be forgiven and live a life where you no longer have to sin in order to survive. Christianity is all about forgiveness, but I believe the sinner must want it before such a gift can be given.”

“Honestly, I haven’t decided on if I want it or not,” the blonde states, hiding her smirk by turning to examine a bookcase in the corner. All she finds are various versions of the Bible and a collection of wholesome picture books. “I’m not going to pretend to be a philosophical or deep person. My list of beliefs are rather simple. You do whatever it takes to survive without betraying those you care about. Everyone in the Shattered States is broken in some way. I have a few more rules that involve enjoying sunsets when I can and never trust someone who hides their weapons. That last one is situational. Do you want me to help with the repairs?”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m more than capable of doing it myself.”

“Sorry if I offended you.”

“It was no . . . oh dear.”

“What is it?”

Cami points at the rear of the jeep where the bumper is about to fall off and the muffler is at an odd angle. The women move the vehicle onto the car lift, raising it high enough for them to get a clear look at the undercarriage. A few of the brackets have snapped, the remaining ones having barely enough strength to prevent the exhaust system from crashing to the floor. With a sigh of relief, Cassidy sees that nothing else is broken and the muffler is only cosmetically scratched. A single dent is the worst of the damage that she figures came from going over discarded parts on the road. Finding rough-edged pieces of metal embedded in the bumper makes Cami wonder how the other object did not get trapped beneath the jeep and dragged all the way back to the garage.

“I was so busy checking the tires and axles that I forgot about the rest,” Cassidy admits while running her hand along the undercarriage. She picks out a few leaves and scraps of Nebraskan gang member, which she can finally reach thanks to the lift. “Not to mention I was really angry at that Jehovah’s Witness. Makes me almost miss the days they only went up to your house. Sorry about the mess. Do you have something I can put this garbage into? I have trash bags in the jeep, so I can take the stuff with me.”

“I’m sure the man simply misjudged your speed and level of attention,” Cami says before putting on her googles and going about cleaning the jeep. Dislodging a curious piece of debris, she nearly screams when a severed ear falls to the floor with a plop. “What did you do before you came here? I mean, you can . . . do we need to get a priest to give last rites and bury whoever this is?”

“There are some really dangerous places out there.”

“But how did parts get stuck in the undercarriage?”

“Because I ran over their original owners.”

“On purpose?”

“In my defense, they were trying to kill and rob us. In that order.”

The mechanic looks distressed as she examines the ear, which Cassidy eventually tosses into a trash bag. Ignoring the muttered prayers of the other woman, the blonde gathers all of the garbage and puts it near the exit to get rid of on their way out of town. Leaving the bathroom door open, she cleans her hands and worries that Cami will ask her to leave without doing the repairs. Instead, she finds her host returning from putting the bag in the dumpster, the mechanic slipping on a fresh pair of thick gloves. The woman does a little more cleaning of the area and prays for the souls of whoever she threw away. It is obvious that she has been shaken by the discovery, so Cassidy takes a seat at the worktable and waits for the mechanic to regain her original glowing smile.

“How much will I owe you for the extra repairs?” she asks, cringing at how she goes directly to business. Unable to look the other woman in the eye, she focuses on the broken brackets and shredded tires. “I can tell you about my adventures if that will help. That may take a little time and I’d need Lloyd here to fill in stuff that I wasn’t around for. He had to save my life in Indiana, but I did the same for him in Michigan.”

“Pray with me and that will be enough for the extra repairs,” Cami whispers, hopping onto the stool next to her guest. She pours herself another cup of coffee, her hands shuddering a little as her imagination runs wild. “I apologize for my reaction and putting doubt in your mind. God says that we shall not kill. Though there are always exceptions such as those who are unable to be saved and insist on being a threat to the innocent. Perhaps all of those you killed were beyond redemption. I’m sorry. I know nothing about your situation, so it’s not my place to pass judgement. I’ll start on the tires while you find your friend. The bumper and brackets will require some welding, which I can do tomorrow.”

Sensing that the mechanic wants to be alone, Cassidy does her best to smile warmly and grabs her pea coat from where it is hanging on the wall. She is tempted to retrieve her handgun from the jeep, but the vehicle is too high for her to reach. It may also upset Cami even more, so the blonde heads out the door with a worm of apprehension in her mind.

*****

Unsure of where he is, Lloyd stops at a corner and tries to find a landmark that can guide him back to the garage. His walk has been frustrating with locals being nice to his face and openly badmouthing him as soon as they stop interacting. Children have spit on his back and strangers have bravely attempted to condemn the serial killer to hell. Normally, Lloyd would make a mess and go into hiding until the initial panic has subsided, but the incidents are so sudden and bizarre that he is unable to react until after the person has left. There is also a sense that he is being watched, which brings his attention to cameras that are hidden among the signs and rooftop statues. Waving to one of the barely camouflaged devices, Lloyd hopes he has its attention and shrugs in an attempt to portray that he is lost. When nothing happens, he casually flips a bottle cap from his pocket and sighs when he realizes that he forgot to designate what each side means.

“Demon in human skin!” a man shouts from behind Lloyd. Unsurprisingly, the local is wearing an ironed dress shirt and jeans while waving a Bible in his hand. “You do not deserve salvation. Be gone from our city and join your destructive brothers and sisters in the anarchy lands.”

“Sorry, but I’m an only child,” Lloyd replies, hoping to get a laugh from the preacher. He steps away when an angry finger is jabbed into his chest. “All kidding aside, I’m only passing through. My friend and I had an accident. We’re out of your hair once our jeep is fixed. Don’t suppose you could point me in the direction of Cami’s garage. I got turned around because all of these streets look the same. By same I mean boring.”

“I will not give you what you want, demon,” the preacher declares, throwing some holy water on the killer. He holds out a rosary and mutters a prayer before delivering an even harder poke to the other man’s ribs. “You are part of the curse that the Devil has unleashed upon our land. All of your kind will be devoured by the flames of Hell while those of us who remain true to God will rise to Heaven.”

“None of that is actual scripture.”

“Accept your punishment, demon.”

“You keep calling me that, but I’m human.”

“You are the husk of a man with a festering demon inside.”

A crowd has gathered around the tense scene, many of the locals pointing at Lloyd while keeping their distance from him. He gets the feeling that the preacher rather popular, which is proven true when people chant his name and bless him for his continuing crusade. Father Ken is emboldened by his supporters and opens his Bible to shout condemning passages at the serial killer. Every verbal attack is met with cheers and the occasional hurtling rock that Lloyd always manages to avoid. The projectiles hit other people in the crowd, but he does not care considering they have him surrounded. He feels like he is trapped in a dome of noise, which puts him on edge and makes him strongly consider killing of the more aggressive locals. The only reason he holds back is because he left the garage without a weapon and there is nothing within the dwindling circle for him to use.

Father Ken stops his preaching and holds up his hands to silence his supporters. It takes a few minutes for them to listen, one person trying to throw a final rock before he is pushed to the back of the crowd. Lloyd catches the projectile and winces at the pain in his hand, which is bleeding from three small cuts. The locals move away and panic about the land being corrupted when they see several crimson drops fall onto the street. Their reaction is so visceral and disturbing that Lloyd wonders if they are true believers or blind followers. It would not surprise him to learn that many within the city are driven more from fear of the chaos that overtook the nation than genuine religious belief. In their minds the world has ended and all they have left to look forward to is a peaceful afterlife as long as they play along.

“This is more barbaric than anything I’ve seen out there,” Lloyd admits, cutting off Father Ken’s next tirade. Boos and insults fly from the mob, the serial killer rolling his eyes and yawning out of boredom. “I have a lot more respect for a person who kills to survive than any of you idiots. Even the maniacs in Wyoming are more honest than you guys. I mean, there’s that whole part of your path about forgiveness and not killing. Yet here you are throwing rocks at my head when I haven’t done anything wrong here. How do you people even know I’m evil or a demon? Not that I’m admitting to that accusation. Also, I’d like to point out that I have one of the greatest goody two-shoes superheroes on my t-shirt.”

“He is nothing more than a false idol made in the image of the true Savior!” the preacher declares to the applause of the crowd.

“You guys saw that movie too, huh?” Lloyd replies, relaxing at the sound of some muffled laughter to his right. He is surprised when the amused man is repeatedly struck by those around him until he falls to his knees and crawls away. “Wow. That’s just sickening, which is a bold statement considering everything else I’ve seen during my virginal outing. It’s amazing how what you follow is supposed to be used for good and helping others, but that isn’t how it plays out here. One would think your religion would have become a powerful weapon of hope in a world full of broken souls. Instead, you idiots are fixated on vengeance, judging, and hate to the point where you’re beating up a man for enjoying a witty remark. Ugh, now you have me dancing on a soapbox when all I want to do is get back to my friend and put this city very far behind me.”

“Do not listen to the demon!” Father Ken continues in case the other man’s words have weakened the resolve of his spontaneous flock. Holding his Bible in the air with one hand, he turns in a circle and revels in their attention. “He will try to turn you against the righteous path and take you to Hell. The more souls he takes to his master, the more his evil will grow until all traces of humanity are gone. We must destroy him now before he corrupts others and plunges this nation further into Satan’s maw.”

“I have no idea how to argue with this level of insanity.”

“God is on our side!”

“Are you planning to shout me to death?”

“That is your last joke, demon.”

“Stop calling me that. I’m not any good rhyming, so it makes no sense.”

Father Ken steps forward and draws a cross-shaped knife, the others still confused by Lloyd’s latest joke. The serial killer hurls his rock before the zealot can get too close and prepares to tackle the man. To everyone’s surprise, the projectile hits its target in the center of the forehead and the preacher drops. Blood is seeping from the open wound and Lloyd is sure Father Ken’s skull has been shattered. As sirens blare from down the street, the scared crowd backs away without breaking the circle. Nobody tries to check the body, so they are unsure if their beloved leader is dead or merely unconscious.