The black slime covering Roy’s discarded pants had crawled back up into the animal’s opened brains. It started winding its way back down the side of the wall in a half dozen separate trails. It would be on the men in seconds if they didn’t act.
Roy cried out. “Help us! We’re still alive! Don’t leave us in here!”
The door started tearing open a few seconds later. A sharp piece of metal jutted through the crack and settled on the door’s edge. It was a garden hoe, Louie realized. The cattle killers were reefing back on the door, using the tool for leverage. Roy kicked at it, dislodging more duct tape and bent metal. The shed was on its side, and the door was stuck on a horizontal level four feet off the ground. It finally gave way with a squeal and dropped downwards.
The men saw their rescuers for the first time. They were clad in baggy one-piece yellow suits that looked like plastic. Bright red strips ran down the arms, and thicker bands of the same color were sown into the chest and back areas. They reminded Louie of the hazmat suits the scientists wore back in the DSC. These ones didn’t look as thoroughly sealed, however. Judging by the heavy appearance of the material, he guessed they were meant to be more fire retardant than disease resistant. Louie’s view was cut off suddenly as Roy planted an elbow in his face and pushed himself up and out of the mangled tool shed. Louie crawled out seconds after, mindful to keep as much distance possible between him and the snaking trails of microscopic ticks.
Roy stood on his feet and waved his arms above his head. “We’re unarmed. Please… don’t shoot us.”
The woman holding the impossibly large rifle in her hands pointed the weapon at his chest. “Back up, big boy. Nice and slow.”
Roy took a step back, the other woman pushed him a few more feet with the end of the hoe. “You heard the lady. Back the fuck up. Let’s get a good look at you.” He did as he was told. The back of his foot caught on the hoof of another dead cow, and Roy ended up on his rear end in the dirt.
“What the hell were you two doing in there?” The one with the hoe asked.
Her friend pointed the rifle towards the general vicinity of Roy’s dirty underwear. “I think it’s pretty obvious what they were about to do.”
“It isn’t like that,” Louie said.
“Fuck no!” Roy added.
The taller woman tossed the hoe down and removed her gas mask. Dirty blond hair fell to her shoulders. She was pretty—even through all the sweat and strands of hair stuck to her patchy red forehead. Light freckles covered her cheeks and her eyes were the palest shade of grey Louie had ever seen. “It really doesn’t matter to us how you guys get your kicks. There’s not that many people left to judge what any of us do anymore.”
“Grace! Get your mask back on.”
“Relax. The air won’t kill us that fast. Damn thing’s too hot, anyway. Go on—take yours off and we’ll introduce ourselves to the fellas.”
“Not here… away from the cattle.”
The black mists were crawling about the dead animals, spreading out, and moving towards the sound of their voices. Louie and Roy didn’t need any more prodding. They followed the one called Grace at a quick jog as the other kept the gun trained on their backs. They moved to the front of the farm house where an ATV with a small open trailer hitched to the back sat waiting. The woman with the rifle placed her weapon onto the pile of junk accumulated in the trailer and started to remove her mask. Roy took his opportunity when the bulky mouth filter was covering her eyes and kicked out towards her stomach. The bare heel of his other foot sank in the soft ground, and he slipped, missing the woman by inches. Grace yelled out a warning, but the other woman was already reacting. She threw the mask at Roy as he continued stumbling back, trying to keep his balance. The metal filter struck his chin with a crack, Roy fell to the ground again on his side.
The woman went for her gun, but Roy’s enraged speed didn’t allow her enough time to grab it. He was on his feet and lunging. Roy swung a giant arm through the air that would’ve snapped her neck if she hadn’t been quick enough. Unfortunately for Roy, she was. A knee landed in the soft pillow of his gut, knocking out whatever air was left in him. He fell to his knees, gagging, and struggling for breath, but the woman wasn’t finished with him yet. She drove an elbow into the center of his back, flattening him completely into the dirt. A knife almost as long as her forearm appeared in one hand, and she had the blade pressed up to Roy’s throat before he could even think of trying to get back on his feet.
The fight—if it could be called that—had lasted less than five seconds.
“Don’t do it, Fiona. Let’s just leave the assholes here and head back.”
Louie didn’t say a word. A part of him hoped she would slit the fat man’s throat wide open. God knows he deserved no better.
“Nah, I’m not going to kill the pig. We’re taking them with us to Odessa.”
“You can’t be serious—there’s no room.”
“There’s all kinds of room.”
Fiona was the direct opposite of Grace in almost every respect; she was small and darker skinned. Her black hair was shaved closely to her skull, and her eyes were deep brown. They were both damned attractive, though, Louie realized. There was no missing that.
“Why are you staring at me?” Fiona shoved Roy’s face into the ground and wagged the knife at Louie. “You never seen a girl before?”
His hands were still above his head. He sank to his knees. “I’ve seen plenty… not too many recently though.”
“Smart ass, hey? What’s your name?”
“Louie. Louie Finkbiner. The guy you’re holding on the ground is Roy.”
“Does Roy have a last name?” The tall blonde asked. She had retrieved the other woman’s rifle and was waving it back and forth between the two men.
Roy grunted into the dirt. “Don’t… fucking… say it.”
Louie shrugged. Fiona stood up, but left a boot planted in the small of Roy’s back. “My last name is Benitez—Grace’s is Sutter. And it doesn’t really matter what this fucker’s name was… I’m going to call him Piggy from here on in.”
He squirmed under her boot. “Bitch.”
“No. My name is Fiona. Call me anything else and I’ll carve you open like the porker you so strongly resemble.” She ground her heel into his spine. “We clear on that, Piggy?”
Roy ceased his struggles and nodded his head.
“Where’s Odessa?” Louie asked.
“Forget you heard it,” Grace warned. “We’re not taking you there.”
Fiona held a gloved hand up. “Yeah, we are. Having a couple more working bodies could help us keep things running more smoothly.”
“This is bullshit, they can’t be trusted. We’d have to keep an eye on them all the time, and I don’t want to babysit twenty-four-seven for the next ten months.”
“Ten months?” Louie asked. “Where… what is this Odessa?”
They ignored him and Fiona whispered something in Grace’s ear. A look of terror spread over the blonde woman’s face. “You promised we wouldn’t have to do that again.” Fiona mumbled a few more words and Grace nodded resignedly.
“Answer him for fuck’s sake!” Roy yelled from the ground. “What the fuck is Odessa? Where are you taking us?”
Fiona opened a tool box at the front of the trailer and pulled a coil of rope out. She tied Roy’s wrists together behind his back. “Okay, Piggy, let’s go for a ride.” Grace had already started rearranging the collection of junk in the trailer to allow the men room. It looked as though the women had been traveling from one garage sale to the next, acquiring crap at every stop. There were toaster ovens, coffee makers, folding chairs, boxes of plates and cutlery, and stacks of magazines and books. The women conferred privately for another minute and tossed most of it out onto the ground. Louie and Roy climbed in and sat in the small space amongst what was considered the more essential items—water containers and fuel canisters, cases of light bulbs and batteries, canned food, scented candles, and stack after stack of toilet paper.