Page 68 of Calico Descending

“’Fraid you got your groups fucked up. Those are the rebels. Us? We don’t give a shit who’s in power. Politicians are like weeds. Kill one off, and another one grows in its place. Doesn’t matter who he is. But if he comes down from his perch and ventures out into the Deadlands? We’ll fuck him, and his momma, and his baby sister.”

The men collectively laugh, and I turn to see one of them gnawing on one of the soldiers arms.

“We’re just out here to survive.”

Keeping my head low, I raise my gaze just enough to see large chunks cut out of the soldier and holes for the limbs they’ve torn away.

“Awww, don’t feel bad for your little soldier friend. He told us a secret.” Setting his foot up on a rock beside me, he leans down, resting his elbow against his thigh. “Those mutation cages were a gift. A gift from good ol’ Calico. Those soldiers knew they weren’t going back.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, don’t cry for your charred friend over there. He knew this mission was suicide. They planned to set those mutations loose on us. Whoever’s in charge at that hospital did a shitty thing sending those two soldiers out.” His lips stretch into a smile, and he tears off another piece of meat, taking a moment to look down at the chunk left in his hands. “But I’m guessing they weren’t banking on you and your little friends tucked in the back, were they? Tell me something, how’d your friend over there get so big?”

“He’s an Alpha. Trained to kill.”

Leaning to the side, he snorts. “Looks like somebody dropped the ball with this one. Speaking of balls. You let him fuck you? I got to believe he’s got a dick to match those muscles. Had to stretch your tiny little cunt right out.”

I don’t answer him. The sickness of hearing him talk this way hits me worse than seeing the soldier hanging over the flames.

A scream tightens my muscles, as I look to the side to see one of the men standing behind Neela with his hand shoved down her shirt.

“Hey!” I push at him, and the scrawny male comes at me, stopped short by the leader, who holds his gun against the man’s chest.

“Isn’t polite to jump the line. I’ve got men with far more seniority than you jonesin to get their hands on these ladies, but you don’t see them copping a feel before everyone else, do you?”

The bang of the gun jolts my muscles, and the man falls to the ground.

Dead.

Exhaling a sigh, the leader shakes his head. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He waves his gun toward another marauder, who drags the fallen body toward the firepit, gathering rope to tie his hands and feet, which I presume will be fed over a spit later. “Nothing goes to waste out here. Now, let’s get you three settled.”

With his gun still warm from the last bullet shot, he nudges my arm. “Git up.”

Ideas spin in my head.

Like, grab Neela and run. Run where, though?

Take his gun and shoot him. We’d be swarmed by the men who seem to follow his command.

Throw ourselves in that fire alongside the soldier. Perhaps with whatever it is they have planned for us, that’s the most merciful fate, of all.

“What should we do with him?” The small marauder from before shoves Cadmus forward a step, and when he doesn’t trip, as perhaps the smaller one intended, he knocks him in the back with the gun. Cadmus flinches, as he raises it again, and both men chuckle.

“Pansy ass? Stick him with the women. Hell, maybe he’ll be worth a good fuck later. ‘Sides that …” The leader glances back to where the men have already strung the second body over the flame. “We’ve got enough meat for a couple days.”

A small group leads us to one of the tents, in which a thick wooden post, a skinny tree stripped of all its branches, stands in the center. On one side of the post, a marauder ties a rope around Neela’s throat and binds her hands behind her back. Another marauder pushes me to the ground, and I twist to glare back at him.

A cold smack strikes my cheek, sending tingles across my skin, but it doesn’t erase my glare. “Keep it up, bitch. I’ll skull-fuck you right here, right now.”

Only Neela’s scream interrupts my staring, and I turn to see one of the men pulling off her pants, only getting them halfway down her thighs, before she kicks him in the face.

“Get off of her! Get the fuck off of her!” Hand set to the ground, I lurch to scramble toward her, but a force yanks me back. The marauder with the long beard takes hold of my ankles, gathering me beneath him. He uses the leverage to flip me onto my stomach, then presses his weight into my spine. Air bursts from my lungs, as he wrangles my arms behind my back.

“No! No!” Wriggling beneath him is pointless, with all the weight bearing down on me. Rope bites into my wrists, and my body is flipped back, my bound arms crushed beneath me. I kick at him in a useless fight that he merely bats away in fun, laughing, until his palm hits my throat, and he squeezes enough to make me still. Rope bands across my neck, stretched tight enough that I have to wheeze on each inhale, and he holds the end of it above my head, like he’s reigning a wild dog.

Hot breath hits my cheek, smelling of rot and rancid meat, and I screw my eyes shut, when his tongue drags over my cheek. “I’m gonna take my time fucking you, bitch. And when I’m done, every other bastard in this camp, including the dogs, is going to have a turn with you.”

A sob chokes my chest, and in what little movement I can muster, I turn my head away from him.

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