Tim Meyer - Less Than Human

His brain focused on Jake, seeing his face again in his mind’s eye.

Ben quickly glanced to the left, then to the right, his makeshift club in hand, ready to swing for the fences. He saw nothing in front of him except for an old washer and dryer that had once been white, but yellowed over the years due to prolonged nicotine exposure and poor maintenance. He moved into the laundry room, waving Victoria in.

Victoria followed Ben through the living room. Ben expected one of the Barker women to jump out of the closet or from behind the couch with a kitchen knife in their hand, ready to slash them to bits.

Ben sidestepped through the room, checking behind the couch, furniture, and any nook and cranny the room had to offer. When he was satisfied that the room was clear, he waved Victoria on once again.

A voice spoke from the neighboring room.

“So glad you could join the party,” someone said. Ben and Victoria exchanged looks. The voice was vaguely familiar, but they couldn’t place it.

Suddenly, it hit Ben. His eyes exploded with recognition. Victoria frowned. Then it hit her as well. Her eyebrows arched, her lips slowly parting.

It was that mouthy little punk Ross fought earlier. Wasn’t he dead? Ben thought. Then he realized they never actually saw him meet his demise. Only heard it. Or thought they had.

They heard another voice utter “Holy shit.” That was Paul.

Another asked Jason what he had done. That was Josh.

Both voices harnessed a fearful tone.

Ben carefully approached the doorway, holding Victoria’s hand, guiding her.

“I think we should slowly make an appearance,” Victoria suggested calmly. “What do you say?”

Ben let go of her hand. He rummaged through his pocket, producing a key. He placed it in her hand.

“What is this?” she asked.

“The key to the truck. Run to the basement, grab your girls and meet us out front.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t waste any more time.”

She pocketed the key, kissed Ben on the cheek, and rushed back the way they came.

Once she had disappeared into the hallway, Ben crept toward the doorway.

Jason picked the head off the island’s counter and started eating the sinew and bloody strands of tissue that dripped from the bottom of Momma Barker’s head. He chewed the dangling muscle as if it were cherry licorice, laughing while swallowing. With his other hand, he was fondling his semi-erect penis. As he consumed the dead woman’s gore, he peered at Josh and Paul, a childish grin spreading across his face.

“Ah…” Jason said. “Delicious.” He faced the table where Bobbi-Jo was fastened by blood-stained rope. He ran his fingers up her leg until he reached her vagina, then stopped. He massaged it gently. She whimpered softly through the rolled pair of socks taped in her mouth. “The things I’m going to do to you,” he happily boasted.

“Turn around you… f-fucking w-weirdo,” Paul stammered, pointing the gun at the young man.

Jason stopped fingering Bobbi-Jo and faced them. “Ouch. I’m insulted,” he said sarcastically. “I’m afraid I’ve been called worse things. In my hometown, which happens to be a quaint little place outside of Atlanta, I’m called ‘The Ripper.’ After Jack, of course. I mostly stick to prostitutes—they disgust me—but, I’ll make a few exceptions here and there.” He planted Momma Barker’s head on the island. “These bitches underestimated me. They always do. They see a wimpy guy with glasses and a sharp mouth, and they think deep down I’m harmless. Well… I taught them, didn’t I?”

They didn’t answer the rhetorical question.

“Didn’t I?” he asked more firmly.

“Yes,” Josh said. “You sure did.” He felt like was going to be sick again. He wasn’t sure if the drugs or the smell of blood was responsible for his nauseas.

“That’s right. I did,” Jason said. He patted the top of the old woman’s head as if it were a good dog.

Behind Jason, Josh saw Ben appear. He slowly entered the kitchen, being careful not to make a sound. He glided across the tile, raising his bludgeon above his head.

“I’ll make a deal with you and your friends. I know they’re here somewhere,” he snarled. “Just let me be. Leave me here with the girls and let me have a little fun. In return, I won’t follow you. I won’t track you down and gut you like livestock. Deal?” Jason asked, smiling like a happy puppy.

Josh and Paul nodded slowly.

“Good. Now—”

Jason felt something strike him from behind. He went down instantly, smashing his head on the counter before hitting the tile floor.

“Jesus…” Ben said, upon noticing the old woman’s head. He looked at Bobbi-Jo, who screamed to be unbound. “What the hell happened here?”

Josh didn’t answer. Instead, he threw up.

Ben ripped the duct tape off her mouth. She spit out the pair of socks. Then screamed.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

She spat at him and started raving. “You keep me away from that sick motherfucker!” she screamed. “Keep him the fuck away!”

Ben turned away from her while she continued with her tantrum.

“What are we going to do with him?” Paul asked. “We can’t let the sick puppy live.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Wouldn’t be right just shooting him in the head, I suppose? Considering what he done and all.”

“We can’t kill him,” Ben said. “He’s not afraid of dying. It’s just what he’d want us to do.”

“I say we kick the shit out of him,” Josh muttered.

“Josh…” Ben said.

“Just a suggestion.”

There was a moment of silence, Bobbi-Jo breaking it by screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Where are the girls?” Paul asked.

“Victoria went to the basement to grab them.”

“We should go get them,” Josh said.

“You two go,” Paul told them. “Go on. I’ll clean up here.”

“You sure?” Ben asked.

The trucker nodded. He winked, then checked his rifle to make sure it had at least two bullets loaded. “Don’t worry about it. You just get the girls out of here safely. I’ll meet ya’ll at the truck.”

Ben nodded. Then he turned to Josh, motioning toward the hallway.

Reluctantly, Josh followed.

“Mom!” Brit cried out. She pressed her face against the chain-link cage. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Emily peered through the cage, just as her sister, while their mother sped forth.

“My babies,” she muttered somberly. “Did they hurt you?”

The girls shook their heads.

Victoria closed her eyes, relieved.

“Do you have the key?” Brit asked.

“What key?”

“They cage is locked.”

“Shit. I didn’t think of that.”

Creaky footfalls descending the stairs filled the basement.

“Looking for this?” Ben asked. He held the shiny brass key in front of him like a cross used for fending off vampires.

Victoria took it from him, grinning. She hurriedly turned back to her confined daughters. Once the lock was opened, the girls pushed open the cage and hugged their mother as if it had been years since their last encounter. There had been much debate whether they would ever see her again.

Tears rolled down Brittany’s cheeks, disappearing into her mother’s shirt. Emily sobbed into her mother’s shoulder.

“I hate to break up the reunion,” Josh said, “but we should probably get going.”

The three girls turned to the two men, who looked like they had just come back from battle. Dirty. Bloody from cuts and scrapes on their arms and face. Worn faces that could use a few hours of sleep. Or perhaps a few days.

“Josh is right. We don’t have long before—”