Marin's Dale

XI

Vision flickering, temples pounding, tongue and mouth drier than a donkey dick, Tyler grabbed his zipper with his free hand. Life was too short to do what others wanted. Tyler wanted ass, and he wanted it now.

Somewhere in his pill-ravaged brain, a voice yelled for him to stop.

                 ###

It was the kind of knife that could kill a man in one swipe, regardless of point of attack. Gleaming silver, with serrated edges; long and cool. Normally, they used this type to cut slabs of meat for the paying hungry. Normally, Audrey would not have been able to get ahold of it.

Tyler was using the bathroom in the mall's food court. Audrey had allowed it; it was nothing new to her. The vain throbbing, the huff and the puff—she was so bored with his attempts at pleasing her. That poor excuse of an organ used to give her pleasure; somehow. But now, with the emotion gone—without the connection—it did nothing. But she had put on her theatrics anyway. She could fake moan like you wouldn't believe.  

When he had left to "tidy up," Audrey knew what had to be done.

This is your chance

The voice had come clear. She understood that the food court presented a unique opportunity. She could have grabbed one of the many pieces of silverware abandoned on one of the many tables, but they were small, and would not suffice. Much like her boyfriend's appendage.

Audrey knew what was important. The priority could not have been more obvious. She needed to get out of the Dale. She needed to leave and find what was surely waiting. Life inside the Dale was no longer viable. But outside...

Outside, she could finally find what she had always sought. She could be reborn. Tyler, with his wide eyes and steady look—he was resisting. He could not fight Father, and yet, he swore that he had it in himself to do just that.

How foolish could one person be? Why would anybody choose to revolt against something so pure? And now they were in this mall... but why?

Audrey knew why. Because once again, Tyler was trying to force his will upon her. She had endured this long enough, silently and with a happy face. She had been the victim for too long.

Her fingers tightened around the handle of the large knife as she clutched it against her leg.

The bathrooms of the food court were down a long corridor at the far wing, to the left of the Chipotle corner. It was almost too easy. She would wait right at the entrance, off to the side and out of view. When the squeak of his shoes neared, she'd strike.

Poor Ty would walk right into it.

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There was no pain. Though there should have been. There should have been great pain.

The blood flowed free, but the legs carried him onward; impossibly, unconsciously. Shards of glass were like glitter.

Michael knew that the bastard was in here somewhere, and he needed to be punished. Michael needed to punish him as best he could. He grabbed his head, his tingling, wet head. The red was everywhere it seemed, in his mouth and eyes and his ears, and dripping down the torn shirt and pants legs of his uniform.

There was so much of it, Michael wondered if maybe he was already dead. Perhaps it had already ended, the instant he crashed into that concrete wall.

He should have been killed. His body was supposed to be tossed from the vehicle like a ragdoll. He hadn't even been wearing a seatbelt.

Michael breathed. He was not a religious man, though Kate had tried to get him in touch with the Man Upstairs. Perhaps now was the time to say amen, to thank whatever higher force had allowed him to continue moving.

The fragments of memory stormed his brain, but he couldn't piece them together. It had been a bigger vehicle, a truck. He had been following it for a while, hadn't he?

But what about before then?

And the people. Where had they gone? Were they here, in the mall? Or had there never been people? What kind of town was this?

Kate would know.

His girlfriend Kate, she was a genius, that one. Though she was going wild as of late. She had these notions and these desires—sometimes Michael could barely keep up. Her brain seemed to move so much faster than his, but most of the time she tried to hide it. Was she embarrassed? To be smarter than her man? Was that something that women thought about?

Michael didn't know. But he did know some things. He knew that he was tired of living here, in this town. He was tired of life here in Denver. She had talked often about moving, to a more "placid setting," as she put it. Her mind was fixed on this other place, called Marin's Dale. She seemed so set on it...

Michael rubbed his eyelids. His vision was a little blurry it seemed. He wiped his head. There was red everywhere.

Why the hell was there red everywhere? And where the hell were the people?

Kate would know. She was his girlfriend, Kate. Michael was going to marry her one day.