Barbarian Beast Bitches of the Badlands Page 9
Then the girl grabbed Willem’s meatless Big N’ Tasty and took a bite.
“What the fuck is this?” she asked, staring at the empty space where a beef patty should have been. Then she tossed it over her shoulder.
Willem then realized that he really hated this girl. He hated her with all of his being. If the girls in McDonaldland were all like this, there was no way he could possibly fall in love with any of them.
“I think Big Macs are still the best thing you can get on the menu and Melanie thinks there should be more salad variety but who the heck cares about salads anyway?”
Willem wondered if she was ever going to shut up.
“When I get out of school I totally want to be in advertising design because I’m really good with colors and if you don’t believe me just look at my fingernails . . .”
Willem really wanted her to shut up.
She wouldn’t shut up.
“They’re red and yellow striped,” she said, holding out her nails, “and there’s nobody with nails like mine in school because I’m the best at design because I’m like a genius with color.”
Willem grabbed the plastic fork from the girl’s premium bacon ranch salad with crispy chicken strips and stabbed her in the head with it. Even though the fork was plastic, he was able to pierce her skin at a downward angle, between her skull bone and forehead.
She sat there for a moment, confused by what had just happened until a tiny droplet of blood dropped onto the sesame seed bun of her Big Mac. Then she screamed, waving her hands like she was drying nail polish, not knowing what else to do. The plastic fork sticking out of her head made her look like some kind of retarded unicorn. Then he realized that she got ranch dressing on one of his fingers, so he got up and kicked the seat out from under her. She lay on the ground, covered in lettuce and pieces of burger, crying.
Willem walked away. He knew there was no way he was going to be able to find love with women such as these. He had to figure out another way to find his passion. There had to be something else he could love.
They locked Bunny in the cell with her dead sisters. She picked them up off the floor, kissed them on their foreheads, and covered them with a sheet caked in mud and hair. She sat there, in silence, like she was praying for their spirits. Horatio was ordered to guard her. He stood there, watching her through bars as tears dripped down her furry face.
There were steps coming from the darkened hallway. Captain Richards and Lockjaw appeared, their weapons drawn, Lockjaw holding the chainsaw boomerang out like a shield.
“So she’s the only one left?” Richards asked Horatio.
“She’s immune.”
Richards looked into the cell at the angry, teary-eyed wolf woman. “How’d all this happen?”
She glared at him.
“Did you Bitches have anything to do with it? Did you infect this army with your filthy rabies?”
Bunny stood up and wrapped her long fingers around the bars, her thick black fingernails pointing at the men. Richards stepped back.
“Those Zoners from Texas did this. Your trading partners.”
Richards was surprised she knew about the Zoners. The Outlanders were supposed to keep them a secret, especially to their enemy, even when they were being kept prisoner. The Zoners were what they called the people from the Forbidden Zone, which was an area in the southern part of what used to be Texas. Even though they were trading partners and some Zoners lived at the Outpost, nobody knew anything about the Forbidden Zone. The Outlanders were not permitted to travel there or even speak to the Zoners about their culture or civilization. The Zoners didn’t speak much. They kept to themselves and only spoke about trading procedure. The Mayor didn’t mind that they kept secrets. All he wanted was their gasoline and supplies. He never thought of them as a threat.
“How did they do it?” the Captain asked. “Why?”
“You’ll have to figure out why they did it yourself,” Bunny said. “But I know how they did it. The food. I have no idea if they did it on purpose or not, but for some reason the food they delivered was infested with eggs. All of a sudden one day everyone at the Outpost was infected. The eggs hatched in their stomachs and those parasitic worms spread throughout their bodies. Then their minds were gone. That’s when I started killing them off one at a time, but believe me that was the fun part.”
“You didn’t eat the food?”
“No, I ate the food. But I’m immune. For hours, I could feel them crawling around inside of me, but they weren’t able to mess with my mind like they did two years ago.”
Lockjaw, the vet/medic, stepped in and said, “It’s a good thing the parasites knew you were an unsuitable host or they would probably still be inside of you, tearing your innards apart right now.” Then he smiled, as if he was trying to freak her out.
Her eyes were locked on the chainsaw boomerang in the man’s hand.
“Who said they’re not still inside of me?” she said. “I’ve been cutting them out of my skin for the past week.”
She showed him her belly and the medic could see movement beneath the skin, long snaking motions across her stomach. It was Lockjaw who became freaked out, taking a few steps back from her.
Richards said, “Did everyone eat the food? There wasn’t a single man who wasn’t infected?
“There were about a dozen who didn’t eat the food because they were out on patrol during dinnertime. They didn’t get infected. They were the ones who found the eggs in the food brought from the Forbidden Zone.”
“What happened to them?”
“They only lasted a few days,” she said. “One by one, they were killed off or infected. They wouldn’t have lived even that long if they weren’t smart enough to let me help them. If they would have actually listened to me they might have still been alive now.”
“Bullshit,” Richards said. “I bet you killed them as soon as they let you out of that cage.”
“You know, that sounds exactly like something I would do.” Bunny laughed and nodded her head. “But that’s not what happened.”
“Are you trying to convince us to let you out now?” Richards asked. “After you attacked us and killed one of our men? We’re going to leave you to fucking rot.”
“You’d survive much longer with my help,” she said. “I’m the only one who’s immune. If any of you try to fight them in close range you’re eventually going to get bit by one of those worms. One bite and you’re done for.”
“Are you saying that the infection spreads by the bite of those snakes?” Lockjaw asked, his eyes widened.
She said, “That’s how they lay their eggs in you.”
“Fuck . . .” Lockjaw said.
“What?” Richards asked, but Horatio knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Sun was bit by several of them,” Lockjaw said.
“You have to kill him,” Bunny said through the bars. “He’ll turn against you at any minute.”
“Shut up,” Lockjaw said to Bunny, waving her boomerang in her face.
“Let’s go,” Richards said.
The three men rushed down the hall, passing Tomahawk on the way. Richards yelled at him, “Watch the Bitch,” as they passed.
“What’s up?” he said, raising a sledgehammer in the air like a question mark.
“Just watch her!” Richards said.
He chuckled and continued on. “Yeah, I’ll watch her alright.”
Horatio looked back at him, wondering what the son of a bitch was planning to do to her.
As they approached the medical bay, they heard a series of gunshots.
“Fuck, he’s already turned,” Lockjaw yelled.
Then they saw Poppy running out of the medical bay, crossing the hall into another room, a trail of blood coming from his severed arms where the wounds had reopened. Horatio ran in first, aiming his gun at the legless man. He almost fired as Sun raised his arms at him.
“What are you doing?” Sun cried, dropping his pistol.
“The snakes bit you,”
Horatio said. “You’re infected.”
“They bit me in the legs, but you guys cut them off.” Sun pointed at his bloody stumps. “I’m not the one who’s infected, it’s Poppy.”
Horatio lowered his rifle and turned around to see Poppy charging them from behind.
“Look out,” Horatio yelled at Captain Richards.
But before the Captain could turn around, the mutant grabbed him around the waist. Snakes curled out of his throat and bit him in the cheek. One of them slid down the front of his uniform.
The Captain shrieked and jerked himself free. Poppy ran for the elevator. Horatio turned and aimed his rifle at the fleeing man, but Richards was in his way. The Captain was in shock, ripping at his shirt to remove the creature burrowing into his chest. Lockjaw attempted to help him, but the Captain was thrashing around so much that he couldn’t get close.
Horatio pushed his way through the men to get a clear shot at Poppy, but by then the infected man had already made it into the elevator. He hit a button and the elevator descended.
“Fuck, he got away,” Horatio said.
He turned to the others. Richards ripped open his shirt. There was a hole in his chest, but no sign of the snake.
“Where’d it go?” Richards said.
“It went inside of you,” said Lockjaw.
“No . . . no, it couldn’t have.” Richards felt around his torso for signs of movement. “It must have fallen out of the bottom of my shirt.”
“I didn’t see it fall.”
“It’s dark,” said the Captain. “You can’t see shit.”
“It doesn’t matter where it is,” Horatio said. “One of them bit you in the face. You’re definitely infected.”
Captain Richards felt the wound on his face.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Horatio said. He looked at Lockjaw and they nodded at each other.
Lockjaw grabbed the string of the chainsaw boomerang to start it up, but before he got it running the Captain drew all four of his repeaters and pointed them at the two men.
“Drop it,” he said to Lockjaw.
The medic dropped the weapon.
“Neither of you are to say a word about this to the others,” Richards said.
“But you’re infected,” Horatio said. “There’s nothing you can do. We’ve got to lock you up before you turn.”
“Bullshit,” Richards said. “All we know about what causes the infection is what the Bitch told us, and I don’t believe her for one minute. How come Poppy was infected? He was never bit.”
“Those worms are all over this place,” Horatio said. “He could have been bit at any time when he was sitting on the ground downstairs. You know you’ve been infected. You know what has to be done.”
He moved in closer to Horatio, jabbing the guns into his stomach. If the barrel of his rifle wasn’t so long and the Captain wasn’t so close, Horatio would have shot him right there.
“This doesn’t concern you, Lieutenant,” said the Captain. “I’ll deal with this problem myself.”
“You’re putting us all at risk,” said Horatio.
“Just follow my orders and keep your mouth shut.” Then he looked at the medic. “Both of you. Besides, we’ve got a bigger issue right now.”
“What?”
“Poppy is downstairs,” Richards said. “I don’t know how smart they are once they’re infected, but if he’s smart enough to work an elevator he’s probably smart enough to break through our barricade. He could let the others in from outside.”
Horatio looked over at the elevator shaft. “And then bring the lot of them back up here.”
“We need to get ready for them.” Richards kicked the wall. “Where the fuck is Hamburglar?”
The Hamburglar was outside of the Outpost, strolling through a field of white desert flowers between piles of rusted scrap metal. He sniffed at the flowers with his stubby nose. Stretching out his arms, he took a deep breath of the oily junkyard air and sighed.
He walked through the metal legs of a large rumbling machine shaped like a giant spider. It was as tall as a house and made snorting and squealing noises as the samurai walked through. He brushed his hand against one of its smooth metal legs and tapped his fingers against it as percussion to a self-composed melody that was going through his head.
An infected mutant came out from behind a collapsed tool shed and charged him, but it took Hamburglar a quick flick of his sword to behead his attacker. He didn’t even have to open his eyes as he breathed deeply, the music dancing in his mind. Then he bent down, picked a flower and put it behind his ear.
The Hamburglar appreciated nature. Although it was very flawed, he could see patterns in nature that he found beautiful. When teenaged Hamburglar gave up on searching for love in human beings, he turned to other things that would inspire passion in him. The first thing he turned to was nature.
Willem spent much of his time gazing up at the sky and clouds, lying in the park. Once he felt full of life he would go to his piano and attempt to play with passion. His music was improving. He knew he was very close to perfection.
His father told him he could get another piano tutor as long as he didn’t kill this one. Willem realized that he had learned something from the last tutor, just before he cut his head off, so it would be wise not to cut the next one’s head off just for receiving criticism
The new tutor also told him that he was not playing with enough passion. Willem tried playing again, summoning all of the passion he had ever felt when surrounded by nature, but it still wasn’t enough. The tutor just shook his head. Willem was pissed, but he refrained from killing the man. He relaxed, finished the lesson without incident, and the tutor left without a scratch on him.
But a few days later, Willem changed his mind and cut the asshole’s throat out while he was taking a dump.
So, from then on, he put more of his focus into sword-fighting. He trained day and night, perfecting ancient techniques from the books he read. His sword-making skills were also increasing and he soon created a short katana that was in every way perfect. It was his first masterpiece. It was a katana he would use in battle for the rest of his life.
When he was an adult, he joined the Fry Guy police force and quickly worked his way up the ranks. He was the only officer allowed to carry a katana. It became his symbol. A symbol of peace and order. The citizens of McDonaldland feared him. Criminals feared him even more. When he walked by, people got out of his way. There was a rumor going around that every once in a while when Willem was walking through a crowd of people, he’d draw his sword and cut somebody’s head off just for the heck of it.
The rumors were true, of course, but he didn’t do it just for the heck of it. He did it to see if he could draw his sword, kill somebody, and re-sheath his weapon without anyone noticing. Although Willem was so fast with his blade that nobody could see him draw his sword, it was still pretty obvious who the murderer was. If Willem was in the vicinity when somebody got their head cut off it was a pretty safe bet that he was the one who did it. Still, nobody did anything about his vicious crimes. The other Fry Guys would never accuse him of the beheadings. There was nobody in McDonaldland more frightening than him.
Sun was put into a chair and stationed in the hallway, within shooting range from the elevator. If anyone heard the gunfire they would come to his aid.
The others returned to Greggy and Tomahawk to find them inside of the cage with the wolf woman. They were trying to hold her down. Both men were bloody with claw-marks and the woman was bruised from being punched and kicked in the stomach several times. Her head was rolling against her shoulder, blood leaking through her fur, a wound from Tomahawk’s club as he tried to knock her unconscious. But the wolf woman had a strong head and it didn’t knock her out. She was still able to fight them off half-conscious.
“What the hell are you two doing?” Horatio asked.
“Just having some fun,” Tomahawk said.
By just having some fun, he meant that he wa
s trying to rape the woman. Horatio looked at Richards, but he had no problem with this. It was common for Outlanders to rape their female prisoners, even the hairier ones. Since there were no females in the Outlander army, this was the only way they were able to have sex.
Bunny kicked Tomahawk in the stomach and he fell back. He punched her with his massive third arm, but just as it landed in her chin she grabbed it with her claw and bent it back. His mutant appendage was powerful, but not as powerful as her werewolf strength.
“Get away from her,” Horatio said.
“Don’t worry, you can have your turn after me,” Tomahawk said, arm wrestling with the woman.
“I don’t want a turn.”
Horatio was somebody who did not rape women. There were only a small percentage of Outlanders who did not. He didn’t because he found nothing sexually enticing about rape and had no interest having sex with somebody who was disgusted by the idea of having sex with him. He was also morally opposed to it. Others, such as the Hamburglar, did not rape prisoners because they had no interest in sex in general, they saw lust as a weakness that they needed to bury deep down inside. Others, like Greggy, did not rape wolf women because they were scared of getting hurt or killed by them. It was not uncommon for a man to end up ripped to shreds in the attempt to rape the women. But still, Greggy would assist in holding down a prisoner if ordered to do so. Most of the Outlanders assumed those who didn’t rape were just homosexual.
“What are you gay or something?” Tomahawk asked.
“She’s infected, idiot,” Horatio said. “She’s immune, but she’s still a carrier. Get the hell away from her, now.”
Tomahawk laughed at him, but then he saw the movement beneath her skin. He stepped back. Greggy dropped her. They ran out of the cage before she could get to her feet.
“We’ve got a problem,” Richards said to Tomahawk once the asshole composed himself. Horatio could see sweat leaking in large streams down the Captain’s face and neck. He was definitely infected and already beginning to change. “Poppy’s one of them.”
“What?” Tomahawk yelled, pissed at Richards as if it were his fault. “Where is he?”