The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6) (6 page)

BOOK: The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6)
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It took Pablo twice as many steps as Luis to get in front of the man. When he arrived, the man gave him a disdainful look and barked, “What are you going to do, gimp? Huh? You look like someone took a blowtorch to your face.”

Pablo cocked his head and looked deeply into the man’s eyes. He stepped away and unzipped his thick coat. After placing it on a small table next to the prisoners, Pablo removed a thick brown canvas roll.

The man asked, “What you got there?”

“Name?” Pablo asked.

“Your voice, your face, you’re like a monster,” the man joked.

Pablo unrolled the canvas, displaying its contents, tools and knives. With a gentle touch, he straightened out each tool and lined them up perfectly.

Another prisoner wailed, “What are you going to do?”

Pablo ignored that man and put his focus on the first man. “Name?”

“My name is sergeant, fuck off!”

A devilish grin stretched across Pablo’s face. He picked up a pair of channel locks and stepped over to the man. “Name?”

“I’m not saying anything.”

Pablo cleared his throat and said, “My name is Emperor Pablo Luiz of the Pan American Empire.” He swallowed hard and continued, “But tonight I’ll be what you called me, a monster.” He reached up to grab one of the man’s fingers when the radio in his jacket came to life.

“Hector, this is Anna. Dinner is ready.”

Pablo paused for a brief moment then continued his reach.

“Hector, where are you? The dinner bell has rung and we’re waiting for you.”

Pablo stopped and went back to the table; he opened his pocket, retrieved the radio, and keyed it. “Coming.” He looked at Luis and the others in the room, including the prisoners. They all returned his look with bewilderment.

“There you are, hurry up. The pheasants look divine.”

He keyed the radio again.

“Help!” the second man hollered.

Pablo put the radio down, quickly stepped over and smacked the man in the teeth with the channel lock.

“Hector, you okay?”
Annaliese asked.

Pablo exited the tent and replied, “Fine, coming in ten.”

“Okay.”

He strutted back in and tossed the radio and the channel locks on the table. He picked up a ball-peen hammer, turned to one of his guards, pointed to the first man and ordered, “Hold his leg.”

“Yes, Emperor.”

When the man’s leg was still, Pablo looked at the other men and said, “Watch.” He slammed the hammer on the man’s knee, then again and again until the man’s knee was pulverized to mush.

The man screamed out in pain but never yielded any information.

Pablo said, “Hold his other leg.”

His guards promptly did as he ordered.

The man was supporting all of his weight on the one leg.

Pablo did the same to that knee.

The man dangled by his arms now but was not quitting. “Fuck you.”

“Pull his pants down,” Pablo ordered.

The two other prisoners look mortified.

His guards did as he commanded.

The man now hung naked save for his socks that were soaked red with blood.

Pablo tossed the hammer, picked up large shears, looked at the other men and said, “Talk?”

“I’ll tell you anything. Please don’t hurt me,” the third prisoner cried.

“Whatever you want to know, anything,” the second man begged.

The first man hung, but was still resistant.

“Good man,” Pablo said to him. “Strong.” He then without hesitation sliced off the man’s genitalia.

The man wailed in pain then passed out.

Pablo threw the bloody shears on the table, turned to a shocked Luis and said, “That’s how you do it.”

Luis nodded with fear in his eyes.

Pablo picked up his coat and exited the tent just as his radio crackled to life again.

“You’re now officially late for Christmas dinner,”
Annaliese said.

He replied, “Coming now.”

“Okay.”

He stuck his head back in the tent and said, “Get me the info.”

Luis nodded and replied, “Yes, Emperor.”

***

He raced back to the house and, for him, practically sprinted inside once he arrived.

Annaliese met him first and said, “There he is, our guest of honor.”

Pablo looked surprised to see not only the family but a much larger group of people had been gathered from the hospital they ran on site.

“Merry Christmas!” everyone cheered in unison.

Pablo looked confused.

“You look out of sorts. Everything okay?” Annaliese asked concerned.

Not wanting to give away anything, he nodded and replied, “Fine, tired.”

“Don’t be too tired. It’s time to celebrate,” she said removing his coat.

“Christmas,” he said.

“And you, we’re also celebrating you. It’s been five months since you were brought here and look at you now,” she said, placing his coat on a chair. She felt something wet on her fingers and looked down to find blood. “Hector, are you hurt?”

He spun around to see her staring at her hand; he thought quickly and answered, “Cut hand.”

“Let me see,” she said walking up to him.

“No." He recoiled.

“I’m a doctor, I can fix it.” Someone laughed from the table.

“Bathroom,” Pablo said and hurried away. He closed the door to the powder room and examined his hands and clothes for any signs of blood. Nothing. He opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, found a bandage and put one on his hand. With a deep exhale he looked up and caught his reflection in the mirror. He turned away quickly but stopped; forcing himself, he turned and faced the mirror again. He stared at the thick burn scars; it was as if his skin had melted on one side, even his hair hadn’t fully returned, just patches. He leaned closer until he could see the slight imperfections in his irises. Tonight had brought back memories and had given him a thrill he hadn’t experienced for a while. He was good at torturing people; hell, he was good at murdering and butchering too. It came naturally to him.

A tap at the door tore him away from the trance he was in. “Hector, you okay?” Annaliese asked.

“Hector? Pablo? Who are you?” he whispered under his breath as he still glared at his reflection. He had been Hector for months now and he liked him, it seemed everyone liked him, but Hector lacked something. Pablo was the opposite, he wasn’t liked; in fact, he was hated, but all feared him and all respected him.
Which will it be?
he thought.

Another tap.

“Coming,” he said.

He again looked in the mirror but turned his eyes to the corner of the room and jumped. “What are you doing here?”

Another tap. “Are you coming?” Annaliese asked.

“How are you here?” Pablo asked out loud to the corner of the room. “I buried you.”

Another tap, louder.

“Go away,” Pablo said. He turned and opened the door to see Annaliese standing there.

“You’re worrying me,” she said.

“Cut,” he said holding up his bandaged hand.

She pushed the door open wider and looked inside. “I swear I heard you talking to someone.”

“Myself,” Pablo replied.

“C’mon, everyone is waiting,” she said.

“Anna,” he said.

“Yes.”

A strong temptation hit him. He wanted to ask her to call him Pablo, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out.

“Go ahead,” Annaliese said and placed her hand on his arm.

Her gentle touch swept away the desire.
Does it really matter?
he thought. She liked the name Hector, and it was really the name she knew him by. She didn’t know Pablo, nor did he want her to see him. In many ways he wanted to keep that side of him secret from her for fear she’d reject him.

“C’mon, let’s go celebrate,” she insisted and pushed him along.

He put his thoughts away for the moment and walked back to the dining room.

DECEMBER 26, 2015

“Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact.” – William James
West of Joseph, Oregon, Republic of Cascadia

Lexi bent over and picked up several more sticks of kindling and placed them on top of the small stack she cradled in her right arm.

A gray squirrel bolted from a grove of laurel and dashed in front of Lexi. Right on its heels, Beau, her blue-haired pit bull terrier, chased after it.

Lexi laughed.

The squirrel jumped on a pine tree and scurried up.

Beau reached the tree. He placed his front legs on the trunk and barked at the squirrel, which had stopped at a large branch and chirped back.

The pursuit was over, but Beau wasn’t about to let the squirrel go without letting him know how he felt as he barked several more times.

Lexi walked over, laughing. “Beau, my boy, today was not your day, but don’t you worry, you’ll get him or one of his cousins soon.” She petted his head and walked away.

Beau looked back at Lexi then turned again to the squirrel, barked one last time and gave up. He jumped down and ran up to Lexi.

“Gave up?” Lexi asked looking down at him.

She had grown to love Beau and was happy she’d taken him months ago. He had proven to be a capable companion and an effective hunter, minus his most recent failure. He was another mouth to feed, but it was worth it.

They walked side by side to the campsite she had called home for five weeks. Often she contemplated finding an abandoned house, but each time she came close to acting on that thought she quickly talked herself out of it. One thing was certain; in order to avoid people, which she liked to do, she had to stay off the beaten path and give a wide berth to towns and even individual homes.

She tossed the kindling down next to the fire, removed her rifle, which had been slung across her back, and plopped down on a log. Her head itched, so she removed the tight black beanie and pulled the hair tie that held her thick ponytail. Her dark brown hair fell down around her neck and tanned face. She pulled off her gloves and began to scratch feverishly. When she was done, her hair went in a thousand different directions. Her hair had grown out from the days of Rahab and she was happy for it; gone also was any trace of blonde. She thought about cutting it short, but there was something she liked about long hair. In some ways it made her feel a connection to some sense of femininity.

Beau walked around in circles before lying down close to the fire, his standard operating procedure.

Lexi picked up a couple pieces of kindling and placed them on the fire and with another piece stoked it until the flames grew.

Hunger pangs began to gnaw at her stomach. She reached into a large backpack and pulled out a bag of jerky.

The crinkling sound of the plastic bag piqued Beau’s interest; he lifted his head and looked at her with longing eyes.

Lexi pulled a long piece of jerky from the bag and was about to eat it but stopped short when Beau gave a pathetic whimper.

“You want this?” she asked.

His ears peaked, and he replied with another whimper.

Again she teased by asking, “You want this?”

This time he yelped.

Lexi cut her eyes and said, “I don’t know if you deserve the first piece today after that miserable failure with the squirrel.”

Beau cocked his head and whined.

She loved his piercing brown eyes. If asked, she would swear they were almost human in the way they appeared, as if he was an old soul, a kindred spirit living in the body of a dog.

“Fine,” she said, tossing him the jerky. “And it’s only because I’m a sucker for that pouty face of yours.”

Beau snatched the jerky in the air and began to chew heartily.

Lexi reached in the bag for another when a faint scream in the distance gave her pause. She sat upright and slightly turned her head towards the direction she thought she heard it come from.

A second scream and this time louder.

Lexi avoided people, but she made it her life’s mission to help those in need. She dropped the bag of jerky and grabbed her rifle, a Sig Model 716 equipped with a Trijicon ACOG (Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight). She had found the rifle months ago while scavenging through abandoned vehicles on Interstate 45 in Idaho. Since then the rifle had proven to be the perfect weapon. The .308 caliber was the right size, but it was the ACOG that enabled her to accurately
reach out and touch someone
.

Beau hopped up and pivoted his ears towards the direction of the screams.

Not wasting time, she sprinted up a small wooded rise and stopped near the top.

Beau came up behind her and froze.

Lexi low crawled the remaining distance and took cover behind a large pine tree that sat on the tree line.

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