He bound her hands and feet with the rope, placed duct tape over her mouth, and laid her across the back seat.
“There,” Morris said. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”
Driving further into the woods, going off the main path he found an empty cabin. The universe was finally blessing Morris Beckel.
Xinga shifted in the back seat as the man went inside to inspect the cabin. The cabin was dim and didn’t have any electricity. He found some pillar candles on the wooden table and used one of the lighters to light them. There really wasn’t much in the way of furniture. The table and its chairs in the kitchen, a small kitchenette which appeared to run off a gas powered generator outside, a sofa and bed in the combination living room/bedroom, with a nightstand on either side, and a small door-less closet. More than enough for what he needed. There were only the two main rooms to go through so he established quickly that the place was vacant. He found a jug of water in the mini-fridge and quickly gulped some down, not offering any to his captive.
As heavy as he was he still struggled to carry the lightweight Xinga inside. It didn’t help that she was squirming in his arms the whole time.
“No worries princess,” he panted, “It will all be over soon.” He plopped her down in one of the wooden chairs against the wall.
She sobbed behind the duct tape.
“Aww, don’t do that,” Morris said. “Don’t you see? It’s just my turn to win.”
Xinga stared at him.
“You don’t understand. I see that,” he nodded. “There’s that saying, finders keepers, right? And I found you, so the universe said I get to keep you. Losers weepers, that’s your friends back there. Now my mom had her own saying. She used to say losers
keepers
. Yeah, I didn’t get it either until she explained it. She said only when you’ve been broken down can you find the strength to rebuild yourself stronger than before, getting rid of the parts of yourself that tore you down. Only in losing yourself do you find what’s really worth holding onto, what’s worth keeping.
“Well, I’ve been a loser all my life, and now thanks to this zombie flu bullshit I’ve lost everything else, but as long as I have hope, I’ve still got me. And now that I’ve got you, I’ve got more than hope. I can be who I’ve always wanted to be. A man that takes what he wants, without remorse, without pity. I can strip away all of the pretense, and embrace my true animal. I’m a loser, but I’m a keeper. I’ve found all I need to keep me alive, to give me hope, and finally make this loser a winner.”
Xinga coughed. He thought she was choking so he took off the tape gag. The little bitch was actually laughing.
“What’s so fucking funny?”
“You!” she said. “You
are
a loser! You think this makes you special? That you can take someone and tie them up, and use them! That’s not special. Anyone can do that!”
“Shut up.”
“You’re just a monster, like any other crazy person.”
“Shut up!” Morris yelled, slapping her across the face, rocking her head violently. He put the duct tape over her mouth again. “Stupid whore! I’m going to have fun using you!”
That hit was going to leave a big old purple
welt, but it had been worth it. Xinga smiled beneath the tape.
***
They missed the entrance to the park that Morris had taken Xinga into; there were several entrances into the woods on both sides of the highway (it would have been anyone’s guess if her abductor had taken Xinga into any of them) and continued north. The group was quickly becoming disheartened. They looked for anything that might point to where he had taken her but they found nothing, not a trace.
“Poor Xinga,” Marina said. “I should have kept watch on her.”
“Don’t do that to yourself,” Samir said. “Guilt can be powerful, but none of us could have predicted this. You’re not at fault here.”
“We should all stick together from now on,” Ian said.
“I agree,” Kamara said.
“We should keep looking for Xinga,” Samir said, “But we should keep heading north to Virginia as well, to find Ian’s family. The more numbers we have the better.”
Kamara frowned and began to quietly cry. Ian looked over at her. He didn’t have to ask.
“I hope you find your family,” she whispered quietly to him. “I don’t know that I’ll ever find mine.”
Ian nodded, placing his hand on her shoulder.
“I miss my best friend Lupe too. I hope she’s doing okay.”
Samir must have heard that last part. “Ian’s
right. We’ve already lost Klaus, and we’re missing Lupe and Jomo, and now Xinga. We can’t afford to
split up anymore.”
“At least we still have all our weapons,” Marina said. “Thank God I put them in Kamara’s car. All we’re missing are some supplies and we can get more of those.”
Everyone knew she was thinking about the big guns; the heavy firepower she’d left in the trunk.
“There is that,” Samir said.
They reached the Virginia border with no sign of Xinga.
***
The Exxon station had sufficient fuel to fill the tank. They found cans of food and snacks behind the jimmied open door of the convenience store as well that they could take with them and three plastic fuel containers they filled with gas and placed in the trunk. Otherwise the shelves and stands were picked clean; the owner, workers, and clientele all gone. They’d keep running into the same thing time and time again.
“We need to do something else,” Jomo said.
“What do you mean?” Lupe asked.
“This isn’t working; driving nowhere, living off of scraps.”
“What else can we do?”
“We need to find people, people that know something, anything.”
“We’ve been trying to do that,” Lupe said. “There’s no one. Our best bet is D.C. so we’ll keep heading north.”
“I know, I know. This is just frustrating.”
Lupe understood. “Yes, for me too. We’re going
to make it. Wherever it is we need to be, to be safe, to be taken care of we’re going to make it Jomo. You’ll
see.”
“I sincerely hope you are right.”
She put her arm around his shoulder as they walked out the door. “Come on Stud Man. We’ve got places to go and people to meet.”
***
When he came back he placed the hammer and drill on the table. Xinga wasn’t sure if it was only meant to intimidate, or if he intended to use them, but she knew she had to find a way out of the binding ropes. He placed the scissors, the superglue, the lighters, bags of snacks they’d picked up in other places, even the first aid kit out on the table after, laying them out like a buffet.
“Quite a stash. You guys were doing well for yourself,” Morris said.
He rested her Sai on the table last, closest to her field of vision; taunting her that he had her weapons. He grunted, sweating, pleased with himself, wearing a greasy-toothed smile. He twirled his long Bowie hunting knife, pressing the point under his nail, running his finger along the blade and the back’s serrated edge.
“It’s a pity you didn’t stash any knockout drugs. I’d try to take you over to the bed to have some fun, but I get the feeling that you’d fight me, even with this big old knife in my hand, and then I’d have to gut you, and that would be no fun. Actually,” he corrected himself, “It would be fun for a minute, but then you’d lose your usefulness, and well, that would just be- sad.” He presented her with an exaggerated frown to show her just how sad it would be.
Xinga mumbled something behind the duct tape.
“What, you got something else smart to say, that it?”
Xinga shook her head.
No
.
He took the tape off.
“Water, please,” she said. “I’m thirsty.”
Morris Beckel looked her up and down. She did look parched and not in any shape to try anything. “Yeah, all right.” He found a glass in one of the cabinets and poured her a glass from the jug in the fridge. He tipped it slowly into her mouth. “See, that’s not so bad. You be nice to me, I’ll be nice to you.”
Xinga didn’t choose this moment to comment how being tied up and threatened with rape and torture wasn’t exactly nice. She needed the water to hydrate. She needed to stay strong until she could formulate a plan of escape.
“I’m going to head into town,” Morris said, as she took the last sip, “assuming there is a town near, and see if I can find some more food and supplies.”
And, I hope, a knock out drug so I can finally get what I brought you here for.
He placed the tape over her mouth again. “Now don’t you go anywhere,” he laughed.
It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes after, although it was truly hard to gauge time anymore without a watch or a cell phone handy, when she heard the door open.
She’d been trying to squirm out of the ropes to no avail. Could he be back already?
A man and a woman in their early thirties entered the cabin, with what looked to be plastic bags filled with groceries in both hands.
She stared at them and they stared back, eyes opening with shock and dismay.
The man gently let the groceries slip to the floor, as he took in the sight of the bound girl and said, “What in the holy hell?”
***
“I’ll drive for a while,” Samir said, “You look tired.”
Kamara nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
She pulled over on the shoulder. Kamara sat in back next to Marina, and Samir sat on the driver’s side next to Ian. Kamara laid her head back and drifted off. Marina was saying something but she couldn’t make it out. When she woke up hours later they were stopped. They were no longer on the highway. It looked as if they were parked by a curb in front of a building. The building sat atop a large green hill with steps leading up to it and was almost blinding white in the sunlight with its grand Roman columns.
“Where are we?” Kamara asked, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.
“We’re in Richmond,” Ian said. “This is the Capitol Building.” Though he felt as if there might be a rich sense of history here, there was also a sense of dread that came with that. They were, after all, able to park right in front, where normally this area would be cordoned off to vehicles, likely by way of heavy steel poles with chain links in between.
“Remind me again why we’re here,” Marina said.
“It’s a large government building,” Samir said. “There may be someone in there that knows something about the virus, or a safe place we can go where there are other people.”
“Right, because the government is so trust-
worthy,” Marina said.
“I’m with her,” Kamara said sleepily.
“Regardless,” Samir said. “They may have answers we need. But on the offhand they don’t and there’s trouble, it is a
big
building. I say we bring in the heavy weapons.”
Marina smiled. “Now you’re thinking.”
Kamara grabbed the sword, sheathing it as a backup, along with her battleaxe. Marina kept her two Rugers in their holsters and picked up the AK-47 and the shotgun. She handed the shotgun to Samir, along with a box of shells.
“Maybe you should leave your peashooter in the trunk and take this,” she said.
“I’ve become quite fond of that musket.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I’ll take it,” Samir grumbled.
“You can load it one at a time or through the bottom port here, and you have to slide the round in like this,” she said. “And it’s got a lot more kick than your musket, so watch the recoil, or you’ll knock yourself out.”
Ian was fine with his spiked mace, but asked Marina if he could have one of her Rugers.
“Sure thing,” Marina said.
“Just in case,” Ian said.
“You know how to shoot?”
“No, not exactly.”
Marina huffed. “Here.” She gave him a quick lesson as well. “Sure you don’t want the other Ruger?” she asked Kamara. “I’m good with my AK.”
“Yes,” Kamara said, “I’m fine.” Quickly she added, “Thank you.”
Marina nodded.
“Everyone ready?” Samir asked.
“As ready as we can be,” Ian said.
“Good enough.”
***
One hour later Lupe and Jomo passed the Welcome to Virginia sign.
“Do we know what we’re looking for?” Jomo asked.
“Food, gas, people,” Lupe said, “Anything or anyone that can help us. Just one more stop on the way to D.C.”
They both jumped when the car radio crackled to life. Lupe hadn’t even known it was on as there were no broadcasts. At first there was only static, and then distant, almost whispering rose a voice.
Jomo stared across the dash at Lupe.
“Get to...” the voice began, “Any...”
The voice kept warbling in and out between the bursts of static. They could only catch a couple of words every ten seconds or so. It was agonizing.
“Turn it up,” Lupe said. Jomo did. The static was like an ocean crashing and the voice as if it arrived through its deepest depths.
“Move... listen...my voice... travel... shelter.”