The Killer inside me.
I was aware of bouncing along the ground, being dragged by my feet and my hands tied. There were rocks and weird alien thorn plants that were tearing my clothes and cutting me up, and something that tasted like a dirty rag, soaked in, well soaked in piss, stuffed in my mouth, but I didn’t want to think about that.
Isn’t there some kind of apocalypse version of the Geneva Convention that prohibits cruel and unusual punishment?
It might not cover getting hit in the head with a rock.
…and about that term cruel and unusual.
Isn’t all punishment cruel and unusual.
I mean, it’s punishment, right? So isn’t that, by default, cruel?
And I don’t think punishment was ever usual unless you grew up in a Christian household.
I had always fancied myself to be quite the killer. I think most guys do, having been raised on images of tough guys, spies, and spec ops soldiers we had managed to convince ourselves that, we to, had the capacity to best an opponent in combat and come out bloodied but victorious.
That image of myself had been reinforced when I had, in a moment of adrenaline fueled rage, killed someone with a stick.
…and then I met Dolly. Dolly was an actual killer, not the made-up killer that I was. He had killed people before, and I watched him slice those guys into pieces outside of Ash Fork, and that sight had humbled me a bit. It humbled me a lot and I began to think of myself as maybe a bench warmer on the killer team because there was no way I would ever be let in the game with people like Dolly around.
…and I never had given much thought to how a rock to the head kind of knocks the killer right out of you.
The dragging stopped.
I was lifted to my feet and someone slapped me in the face, pulled the rag out of my mouth, and threw a bucket of sand in my face.
“Fuck.” I sputtered. Spitting sand and dirt out of my mouth and trying to blink the shit out of my eyes.
“He’s awake.” Said a voice.
“Why did you throw sand in my face?”
“It was supposed to be water, to wake you up, but water’s at a premium, and we didn’t want to waste it on you.”
A pair of very large hands grabbed my ears and lifted my head up. I had never really seen anyone as large as the man in front of me. He was dressed in full on combat drag, from the boots to the beret on his head with some sort of insignia on it.
“So, you’re the priest. We heard about you after you killed the real priest near Jerome. I thought you’d be bigger.”
Still trying to get the sand out of my mouth, I said, “You kind of take first place in the big department. Maybe I just look small because you’re, well, freakishly big.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment because I don’t want to hurt you just now.”
“That’s comforting.”
“We’ve been watching you for a while.”
“That’s what Dolly said.”
“Who’s Dolly?”
“He took over the leadership after we met him in Sedona.”
“Really, why’s that?”
“He’s good at things that the rest of us aren’t good at.”
“What would those things be?”
“He seems to be someone who is not only good at killing but enjoys it.”
“I’d like to meet this, Dolly.”
“I don’t think you would. He doesn’t take to people right off, and I don’t think he’d take to you.”
“Why would you think that? Don’t I seem friendly and accessible?”
“Not right off. You did throw a rock at my head, tie me up, drag me through the dirt, slap me and then throw a bucket of sand in my face.”
“That’s true. But in our defense, we do think of you people as our enemies, and we’re a little upset about you sneaking into our camp and killing one of our people.”
“In my defense, it wasn’t me that killed your guy.”
“Semantics, it was one of you, and if one of you is our enemy, then all of you are our enemies.”
“Isn’t that stereotyping?”
He stared at me like I was crazy.
“Are you like this all the time?”
“Like what?”
“Argumentative and kind of waffly.”
“Waffly?”
“It’s a word I made up, and it seems to fit.”
“Why would you call me waffly?”
“Maybe a better word would be weak, ineffectual, and cowardly.”
“That’s three words.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, right there.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Sorry, I neglected to formerly introduce myself. My name is Colonel Kurtz.”
“Like the Heart of Darkness, Colonel Kurtz?”
“You know about that?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“No, and you have no idea how refreshing it is to meet someone who’s read that book. I’d almost be tempted to give you a pass just based on that.”
“Almost tempted? Give me a pass on what?”
“Well, eventually we’re going to kill you all, but right now we’re doing our due diligence to make sure that we are unanimous in that decision. We loosely function as a benevolent dictatorship, although I do have the last word in pretty much everything.”
“What happens if not everyone agrees?”
“First, I try to convince them that my superior intellect, advanced knowledge of survival, and inhuman physical abilities and strength makes my decisions more right than theirs. If that doesn’t bring them around, I will attempt to beat some sense into them and if that doesn’t work then I kill them. It’s a workable system.”
“It sounds a little one-sided.”
“Too many cooks…”
“I’m not going to kill you, though.”
“You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”
“I do want to send a message to your Dolly.”
“He’s not really my Dolly, I mean he doesn’t belong to me, he doesn’t belong to anyone we kind of share him but not in the way you might think he…”
“There you go again being weird and waffly.”
“I didn’t think I was…”
“Please stop. We’re going to send a message to Dolly, and none of those other things you said matter.”
“I’ll be glad to take a message to him.”
“That’s good. It’s going to be less something you take and more something you become.”
“Now who’s being weird and waffly?”
Kurtz waved three more men over and nodded.
The first punch knocked me to the ground and I felt the blood in my mouth. I was pulled to my feet and pumelled. It felt like being in front of a pitching machine that fired hardball after hardball at my stomach and head. The men who were holding me dropped me to the ground and then all of them began kicking me over and over and over, and the impression I got was that it would never stop, but then it did.
I felt myself being picked up and then lost consciousness.
Poor you! It seems like then end for you, buddy. We'll miss you!
I think I missed an episode or two - is there a place on Substack I can go back and read prior ones?