Wilders- The Complete Trilogy Page 6

  Luke had just taken a step when the door of an apartment building in front of him slammed open. A small man burst out, wrenching the door against its hinges. His movements were jerky, dissonant. Like he just couldn’t keep still, twitching and convulsing as he took in the street before him. His mouth was a mess of blood and broken teeth, saliva frothing out of the corners, spilling down his chin. The pink foam there sparkled eerily in the moonlight. Holly stared, her gaze glued to that gaping and broken mouth as the man whipped around.

  The group stood frozen in time, transfixed by the sight. The man tilted his head first to one shoulder, than to the other. He whipped his chin up and out, before jerking it back down to his chest. His eyes never left the phone in Miranda’s hand. The screen was still lit up from her recent use. June started to back away, taking small measured steps. Luke brushed into Holly’s shoulder as he did the same. He gripped her arm with one warm hand, tugging her back with him as he passed.

  The man clenched and unclenched his bloody hands. Still, Holly could not tear her gaze away from his face. There was no look of intelligence, no comprehension or recognition in his eyes. His expression, twisted with rage, did not change as he shoved away from the door. He lumbered forward, his twisted knee and ragged lower left foot dragging behind him. Within two steps he was barrelling at full speed, straight for Miranda.

  Holly’s body was shoved aside as he tackled her aunt hard into the sidewalk. Her aunt was screaming, covering her face and neck with her forearms as he raked torn nails down her coat sleeves. Before Holly could pull herself up off the ground, June blew past, swinging her leg up to catch the man fully in the face with a booted foot.

  He didn’t even flinch. The kick snapped his head back, but he continued to scrabble at Miranda, dragging deep scratches across the backs of her exposed hands. Holly shoved at him, hoping to topple him off of her aunt. They had to do something. There had to be a way to stop this, to stop him.

  Then June’s body was there next to Holly’s shoving and grunting and forcing the man to lose his balance as his bad knee collapsed. Miranda rolled toward them, her back to him as he growled, spittle misting into the air around them. The girls gripped Miranda under the arms, dragging her forcefully to her feet. Holly didn’t know where Luke was, but she knew they had to keep moving. She shouted his name, getting no response. If there was anyone else out there, the noise of this fight would bring them running. They had barely managed to fight off one of these drug users. They would never survive a seething mass like the one they’d seen on TV.

  They started up the street, Holly shouting again for their friend. June shushed her, reaching around Miranda to swat her hard in the stomach.

  “Hey! We can’t leave him. We’re almost there.” Holly’s gaze darted along the stoops and door jambs when she caught movement behind them. She had just enough time to let out a yell before the crazed man crashed into the three of them. They went sprawling face first into the sidewalk, June borne down the hardest by the weight of the man. He was hitting at her wildly, pounding his fists into the sidewalk just as often as into her back and legs.

  Holly pulled herself up again, a sharp pain stabbing through her ankle. She staggered toward June, intent on pulling her out from under him. Her aunt was dragging herself onto her knees, chin split and dripping blood. The sound of June grunting in pain drove Holly on despite the biting pain. The smaller girl was dragging herself forward, trying to get her body away from the raining blows. Her aunt was pointing, her eyes still glazed from hitting the sidewalk chin first. Holly followed her finger, and saw she was pointing to the man’s mangled foot.

  Fighting nausea, Holly nodded, and limped behind the man, who was oblivious to her approach. She reached down, gripping the bloodied, crushed shoe and yanked as hard as she could. There was a popping sound, and the man’s foot pulled away at a bizarre angle. Still in her hands. Now barely attached to his leg. Gagging, she threw the foot down, staring as the man had no reaction, no recognition of pain.

  Horror washed over Holly at the realization that there would be only one way to stop this man from coming at them. If he didn’t feel pain, and he wasn’t going to let them run away, they would have to stop him permanently. He was crawling up June’s back now as the girl struggled to kick at him. It looked like she was trying to flip over under his weight to fight back. Holly searched for something she could use to stab him or choke him. She didn’t know what she could do. How did you kill another person when you didn’t have a weapon?

  The man had a hand gripped in June’s thick hair now, and was wrenching her head back viciously. Holly grimaced and gathered her courage to throw herself at him. She had to do something, or he was going to kill June. She heard pounding footsteps, sprinting down the sidewalk. Shit. She was going to have to do something right now. They would have to break in somewhere, do something to get away, to get off the streets.

  Luke sailed past her, swinging a heavy piece of metal like a golf club. Holly turned away as the metal connected with the man’s head. She knew she would never forget the sound it made connecting with his skull. Luke would probably never forget the sound of June of sobbing as he leaned down and pulled her out from under the dead man’s body.

  Voice hoarse, Luke hauled June to her feet, “We gotta go. We gotta go now.” Holly leaned over, vomiting onto the sidewalk. They’d killed a man. They’d almost died and they’d killed a man. And his death had made her feel relieved.

  Chapter Nine

  They scurried as a limping group the rest of the way to the townhouse. Luke helped keep the women upright since he’d escaped injury. Some corner of Holly’s overwhelmed brain was wondering where he’d gone during the first fight. And how he’d known to bring a weapon back with him. When they reached the townhouse, Miranda realized that she no longer had the contents of her coat pockets. Somewhere in the wrestling or running she had lost the key. Holly’s copy was long gone with the purse snatcher. Before anyone could make a suggestion, June smashed a flower pot through the panelled glass next to the door handle. In her brain Holly registered that the broken window may serve as an invitation to looters. She didn’t care. They needed to clean up their wounds. She needed to get off her ankle. They could tape a blanket across the whole panel of windows later.

  They crossed the threshold. Luke closed and locked the door behind them. Holly hobbled to the kitchen, snatching up a clean towel and pressing it to her aunt’s chin. June washed her hands rapidly in the sink, scrubbing hard. In moments she was slamming open cupboards looking for flashlights. Once she’d found one in a drawer, she turned it on and set it upright on the counter top. She set to pulling down bowls to fill with water.

  Holly left her aunt sitting on the couch, head tipped back and towel held tight to her chin. She hobbled to the bathroom. There she followed June’s lead and rubbed her hands together hard under the water, soaping and re-soaping three times. She dried them on the hand towel and opened the cupboard, grasping the small first aid kit her aunt kept there. She spotted a large bottle of rubbing alcohol and snagged that too.

  Luke was sitting on the edge of the couch, his arms propped on his knees, head resting in his hands. Holly could hear a low murmur from him as she passed. He’d just have to wait. She had clean those cuts on her aunt’s hands first. She wasn’t sure what shape June was in at this point.

  June brought two bowls of warm water over, clean dishcloths in each of them. She thunked the dishes on the coffee table before propping a second flashlight next to them. She paused, and met Holly’s eyes over Miranda’s chest. Then she shrugged as if she had nothing to say, and peeled her shirt off. Holly gasped at the trail of welts and scratches along her right ribcage and shoulder blade.

  June turned back to her, wincing, “He got a hand up my coat somehow. I thought I could reach them, but I’m not sure. Can you help me disinfect them, and then we can sort out how to stitch up Mir’s chin?” Holly gulped and nodded.

  Leaving the other girl standing by the couch, Hol
ly walked back to the kitchen and grabbed another stack of towels. Thank God Aunty Mir had a housekeeper. Otherwise all of these towels would be in a dirty crumpled pile in the laundry room. She thought of the body they’d left in the street, barely more than crumpled, bloodied clothes. Her hands trembled as she clutched the towels.

  They’d killed a man. They’d almost died. All of them. People had died. She sat the towels back down, gripping the edge of the counter. She took three deep slow breaths, squeezing her eyes tightly against intrusive thoughts. Every time she stopped thinking only of the task at hand her brain replayed the sound of the man’s head breaking. The feel of the mushy foot in her hand.

  “Get it together, Holls,” she muttered, shoving away from the counter. Scooping up the stack, she made her way back to the couch in measured steps. She thrust a wad of towels at June and scooted one of the bowls of water as far to the edge of the coffee table as it would go. She circled around the girl, then back. As she wrung out the cloth from the bowl she debated the best way to do this. She’d taken a wilderness first aid class years ago when she was in girl scouts. At the time they’d been living in the city, and she’d been more interested in the snack table than the learning.

  “I think I need to clean it with water first.” Bent slightly, with her face at the level of the wounds, she peered up at the the other girl for confirmation. June nodded once, mouth in a grim line. Holly sighed and continued, “Then when I do the alcohol it’s going to hurt.”

  “I know. It already hurts, dammit. Just clean it. Mir’s chin can’t wait all night.” She turned her head away, gritting her jaw.

  Holly swiped gently at the cuts with the wet towel. That didn’t seem very effective. What was it the class said? Rinsing with flowing water was ideal or something like that.

  “Hey, I think we should get you in the tub. Or, like, leaning over it. Then I’ll dump a few bowls of water over it, then pour the alcohol over it. We’ll never be able to that here without making an enormous mess.”

  “I doan’ care ‘bout uh mesh” Mir’s voice was soft, her words spoken through gritted teeth as she tried not to move her chin.

  “I know, I know.” Holly sighed. “But it will be easier next to the faucet.”

  June nodded, picking up the bowl and the flashlight, gesturing for Holly to lead the way. They had to go to the upstairs bathroom, since the downstairs was only a half bath. Holly leaned hard on the railing, placing as little weight as she could on her left foot. The swelling was already making her boot tight.

  Once they were in the bathroom, June leaned as far over the tub edge as she could. Holly dumped three bowls of water over the scratches, wiping at them between rinses. Clenching her gut in sympathy, she unscrewed the top of the alcohol and poured it liberally along the red steaks. June hissed, but held still. When done, Holly patted the area dry with a clean towel.

  “There’s probably antibiotic cream in the first aid kit downstairs.” Holly tossed the used towels in the sink. They would worry about cleaning stuff up later.

  June nodded, “Yeah. Hopefully we can wrap it with gauze or just tape some clean towels over it. Do you uh… maybe have a shirt I can borrow? I don’t really want to put mine back on.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” They worked their way painfully into the guest room where Holly pulled out a long sleeved tee shirt and tossed it to the other girl. June snagged it from the air and they started back downstairs.

  After they’d taped gauze pads over the worst of June’s scratches and she was again fully clothed, they turned to Miranda. “Okay Aunty Mir. We gotta look at this.”

  “Hey, uh, does anybody else want any water?” Luke stood suddenly, heading toward the kitchen. “I’m so thirsty. You guys keep this house really hot. I bet that’s an expensive heating bill.” His speech was rapid fire as he opened cupboard after cupboard until he finally found the glasses. He pulled one down, filling it in the sink, and draining it in one long chug. “Anybody else?”

  “Uh, nah. We’re good.” Holly brushed off his oddness, figuring it must be a sign of shock. June was ignoring him completely, slowly wiping at the blood on Miranda’s chin while trying to hold the flashlight up for a better look.

  Holly grabbed the flashlight, angling it. Her aunt’s fair skin was purpling around the deep gash. It was a stark contrast to how pale the rest of her was.

  June looked at Holly, her dark eyeliner now reminiscent of the racoon in the alley. “We’re going to have to stitch this. Or does she have those little strip bandages? What’re they called?”

  “Butterfly bandages.” Her aunt’s voice was wavering, her eyes closed. “Do those. I doubt either one of you knows how to sew.” A ghost of a smile played on her lips as she kept her head obediently tilted against the back of the couch.

  Luke was back, pawing through the first kit. “Here, these are what she means. I used them once when I split my forehead open as a kid.”

  He started opening the package when June snapped at him, “Dude! Did you wash your hands?” She snatched the package from him. “We can’t be touching medical things with dirty hands. Haven’t you watched a single medical drama on TV?” Without a word, he obediently turned back to the kitchen to wash his hands.

  Holly continued to hold the flashlight for June as she ripped the package the rest of the way open and set it on the clean towel. Holly was equally annoyed with the lack of help Luke was, but she thought June could probably be a little more understanding. He’d killed a man to save her, afterall. Her mind jumped again to how Luke had shown up after being missing, weapon in hand. How had he known? Or was it just pure luck. Her mind started to replay the scene again and she forced herself to focus. She couldn’t let herself break.

  June took a deep breath and held it as she gently dabbed a towel wet with alcohol on Miranda’s chin.

  “You pinch the skin together tight, and the put the fat part of the bandage on each side. Then you pinch the middle of the bandage to keep it tight. You gotta do all of them before you let go of her chin or they’ll pull apart.” Luke was back, standing just outside the ring of good lighting.

  “Dude, you washed your hands, you can do it. I’ll hold her chin, you just do whatever else.” June seemed to realize how harsh her voice had come out and she softened, “Please.”

  He nodded and stepped into the light, his heavy brows hiding his eyes from Holly’s vantage point. With how hard this was for her, she could only imagine how he must feel. He’d been the one to actually hit the guy. She watched as he carefully placed each bandage, pinching the little white strip with studied precision. She could just picture him studying like that. Each note, each stroke of the pen done with purpose.

  When they had finished, Holly and June helped Miranda up so they could wash her hands and douse them in alcohol in the sink. Luke stayed behind, gazing at the wall, in his own world. They all returned to the couch, sitting in stunned silence for a while.

  Chapter Ten

  Eventually, Miranda seemed to click back into alertness. She sipped on some water, served up cold left-overs from the fridge, and insisted everyone have a shot of whiskey. The whiskey burned in Holly’s throat and warmed her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to do more than pick at the food on her paper plate. Holly and June both held ice packs to their injuries off and on for half an hour. It seemed that everybody had lost their cellphones during the fighting, and the power was still off.

  Miranda and Holly left June and Luke cleaning up the meal so that they could search in the closets and drawers for the hand crank emergency radio Miranda swore she had somewhere. They paused midway up the stairs when Miranda got dizzy. Holly helped her ease down to sit.

  “Aunty Mir, you really should just relax on the couch and drink some water.” Holly rubbed at her calf above her ankle.

  “It’s going to be hard enough finding this thing with my help, kid.” Her aunt reached over and hugged her tightly to her side. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been really brave and strong through this
. We’re all scared. It’s okay to be scared too, Holl-bug.”

  The use of her childhood nickname sent a rush of tears to her eyes. She sniffed them back, shaking off the hug. “Thanks Aunty… but I don’t think I can think about it right now. Maybe after this is all over. Or maybe once I have about thirty days worth of Xanax.” She rolled her eyes, joking. Maybe. She stood back up. “Let’s find this thing. The sooner we hear the all clear from the news, the better.” She knew that once she let herself break, she’d be broken for a long time.

  “Okay, alright. Tough girl.” Miranda stood, balancing in place for a moment to regain her equilibrium. “Let’s start in the guest room, and we’ll work our way across the top floor until we find it. I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s up here.”

  It wasn’t. They searched methodically, and eventually found it tucked in the back of the pantry, with a collection of canned foods and a case of bottled water. In retrospect, it made sense to stash the emergency radio with the other disaster preparations. They were all back on the couch, with Holly cranking at the radio. June was lying on her side, a melting bag of ice between her back and the couch. Luke was by himself in the recliner chair, mostly quiet except to spit out an occasional fact during the small bits of conversation the two girls made. Miranda was dozing in and out, trying hard to stay awake, but her body was exhausted. Holly bent over and readjusted the ice on her ankle. She’d been cranking the radio slowly for a while now. The next time Miranda woke up she’d turn it on and see what they could find out.

  As if she could hear her thoughts, Miranda stirred and adjusted her position to sit more upright. “Hey kid, is that radio ready to go?”