He hopped up the steps to his porch, dropped onto a padded folding chair right by the door, and pulled off his boots. Next, he shifted his jeans down his legs then unstrapped his bionic leg. He set it next to the chair and finished one beer while massaging Stumpy, as he referred to the amputation. All he had left was his thigh, down to just above where his knee used to be. And some scarring, most of which was hidden by a swirling Viking design that would put Game of Thrones to shame.
He had two other fake legs, of various designs. It seemed alternating them helped keep the base of his thigh from being rubbed too raw. Right now, it was throbbing, a little, but not unlivable, and rubbing it helped.
But sure as hell ain't goin' two-steppin', tonight, he told himself.
"Whoop, whoop, Cotton-eyed Joe," he actually said, making Loki look at him as if he were nuts. "Wish I was crazy," he added. "Might help."
Instead of feeling like you're trapped.
Well...now came the hard part...making it through the night. Dusk to dawn had never been easy for Zeke, even before he almost died. His mind just wouldn't shut down, and far too often the thoughts now hitting him were vicious and cold, and out of nowhere. Sometimes remembering the second after the blast. Sometimes the pain of physical therapy. Sometimes thinking of when he'd had both legs and could go climbing in the hills or swimming in the lakes of Minnesota. Sometimes envisioning being jumped by a wild beast intent on tearing him to shreds. To him, one of the greatest blessings was when he drifted into slumber, because he never remembered his dreams.
But that not going to come, tonight.
Not with Grady dying.
Not unless he reached exhaustion, and it hadn't been all that busy.
His brain kept drifting back to the horror of Grady's death. Staked out, alive, to be feasted on by the creatures of the desert. It was beyond comprehension that anyone could do that to anybody, no matter how much they hated them. The pain. The suffering. He could see it. Almost feel it. Made his skin cringe in sympathy.
He needed something to shift away from the horrific images, so opened the screen door and pulled out an acoustic guitar. Still sitting on the chair, he fiddled with the strings, then played a soft, gentle, surprisingly elegant version of Romance de Amor.
The melody had been playing in the bar, in Juarez, the night Zeke got the first part of his arm inked. Grady had pushed him across the bridge in his wheelchair, which made Zeke smile. He had complained the whole way.
"I ain't that strong. My feet hurt. Should've grabbed an Uber. My arms are achin'."
On and on. But after the tattoo shop came beer and burritos, on Zeke, so he hadn't said a word while pushing him back. Probably helped they were both well on the drunk side, and Grady had tried to work his charms on the immigration clerk...and nearly gotten them arrested for harassment. It was only Zeke laughing out of control that had gotten them off the hook. That and Stumpy being very visible.
The next time they went, Zeke had made himself walk. And it had hurt like shit. Grady had been really solicitous the whole way, and Zeke had finally accepted he could make it back to life, after that. So he'd bought this plain guitar in a second hand shop near the bridge. For two-hundred pesos. Self-taught, he wasn't as smooth as he would have liked. It took him more focus than most people, he was sure, but that's why he liked playing it. The melodies seemed to come out more tender, and they did a lot to lift his mood. He'd never make America's Got Talent, but he wasn't interested in that crap, anyway, and...
Loki skidded to a halt.
And turned.
And sniffed.
And listened.
Then growled towards the Cantina.
Zeke froze. It couldn't be Dax returning. Loki would be barking.
Then the dog carefully positioned himself beside Zeke, in a warning stance and attitude. Okay, this was serious. He carefully set the guitar by his chair and reached back around into the trailer, his eyes scanning the area. He had an old M-16 that was in top condition propped just inside the door. He got it and held it, ready to fire.
Into darkness.
Into silence.
Into nothing?
"Careful," he finally said. "Loki don’t like surprises."
After a moment, a woman appeared from a shadow.
Carli.
Zeke tensed. Kept his finger on the trigger. Was it that same woman? The form didn't look right. The hair seemed lighter. But Rho had mentioned she'd been in disguise, and it was too hard to make out what she looked like, in the darkness. Best to play it safe.
"You can stay there," he said, his voice carrying the hint of a quiver.
"Sorry," she said. "Just listening to the music. It's pretty."
"Bar’s closed."
"I...I know, I just..."
"So what you doin’ here?"
"I...I dunno. I was bored. Thought maybe I’d find some fun, but I arrived late..."
"From where?"
It took her a moment to say, "The college."
"That’s twenty miles off," he said.
She shrugged. Moved a bit closer. Ran a finger over her belt.
Loki's growl went low and dangerous. "You really need to stay over there."
She stopped. Said, "Nice dog. Protective. What’s his name?" Then she held up a hand, realizing. "No, wait, you said...he's Loki. Right? The trickster."
Zeke just nodded.
She crouched. Offered to let Loki sniff her hand. He did not even think about approaching her. Just kept glaring at her. She finally rose.
"You’re doin’ good," said Zeke. "If he thought you were a threat, he’d have bit you, by now."
"Is...is that why he was chained?"
"How'd you know about that?"
Carli hesitated then motioned to the chain lying in the dirt. "I don't think it's there for you."
Zeke leaned back, still wary. "Okay..."
"Oh, you...um, you work here?"
He gave her another shrug, still frowning, the rifle still in hand.
Carli continued with, "What time do you open?"
"Six."
"A-M?"
He snorted in response.
She sighed. "Yeah. Right. Makes for a nice, short commute."
"Works okay."
"Your...your leg...um, Iraq or Afghanistan?"
"It matter?"
"No. It’s just I..."
He caught on to her hesitation. Her confusion. His voice became more gentle. "You do a tour?"
She hesitated then said, "Yeah. Logistics. Bagram. I was AMS. Saw so many guys like that...so many times."
Zeke relaxed a little more. "Marines. Three-three."
Carli was taken aback. "Helmand? Wow."
"How long you been out?"
"Oh...just over nine months. You?"
"Eight years. Y’know, the bar closed near an hour ago."
"Did it?"
"Don't you know what time it is?"
"Oh, I...no, I...truth is, I was sitting in my car. For hours. Um, trying to talk myself into going inside. Just for a beer. Then I...I couldn’t even get myself to go home."
He quietly propped the M-16 at his side. "Still want one? Shot?" he asked, his voice gentle.
Carli looked at him, honestly confused. She ran a finger over her belt, again. "No," she finally said. "I...uh, I...I just heard the music and it was nice so I came over. But that was a mistake."
"Yeah. Even one-on-one can be hard, sometimes. How you handle classes?"
It took her a moment to understand the question. Finally, she said, "Not well. Remote. Mostly."
Zeke nodded. "You did more than logistics."
All she did was shrug.
"It’ll get easier," he said. "There’s a good VA hospital not too far from here. They’ve worked out ways to get around cuts in funding. I’m Zeke."
"Carli." Then she seemed upset that she had told him.
"Mid-terms're on through tomorrow...oh, but you know that. Good thing is, Saturday night’ll be slow, if you wanna try again. Kids're off on Spring Break. I tend the bar. I’ll comp you one."
"You don’t have to do that. But thanks. Maybe I’ll take you up on it...sometime..."
"Your choice."
"Okay. Thanks." She hesitated then backed into the shadows.
Loki did not move.
A few moments later, Zeke heard the Dodge start up. Saw its headlights flare on just up the road and pull away. He gave Loki a pat and scratch behind the ears, saying, "Thanks, boy."
Woof.
"So you think she's lyin'?"
Woof.
"Yeah, me too. Can't lie to a dog."
Woof-woof.
"C'mon, it's chilly out. Let's go in. See if we can find some Rin-Tin-Tin on YouTube."
He set the safety on the rifle, rose and used it to steady himself as he grabbed the guitar then entered the trailer, Loki on his tail while wagging his own.
In the Dodge, Carli drove down The 14. To her surprise, she was shaken. Something about seeing Zeke without his leg, wearing only his briefs and shirt, a sock on his right foot...caught in shadows and the cold night breeze...vulnerable as he played that lovely melody...it sliced into her. The gentleness in him. The calmness. The quiet. And the casual acceptance of her lies. There was nothing about him that struck her as him being the kind of guy who would even tolerate a rape, let alone commit it.
And...there was also one other very important fact... "He wasn’t on the video," she told herself. "He wasn’t on it, anywhere...so maybe he wasn't even there. Maybe."
There was something else that really troubled her. For the first time in her life, she'd felt protective of a man. Someone she didn't even know. Hadn't even really met. And that was weird. Granted, she felt like that about TF, but he was her baby brother. And okay...she'd been like that about the men in her unit...but that was different. That was in a conflict and they were on the same side and...and...
Okay, fine, it's not the first time. Shit.
But there it was. Deep inside, she did not want anything to happen to him...and honestly felt she would do all she could to keep him from getting hurt. Which made no sense, to her. Mainly because the problem was, she had heard him join with the gang in mourning that vile piece of shit, Grady. Like he was a nice guy. Someone decent. Who'd been a good friend. As loyal and trustworthy as that damn mutt. Loki.
Right.
Which didn't even begin to meld with her image of him grunting and giggling on top of Lara. Same for the other three. All of them humping and grunting and laughing while assaulting the girl.
Grady, a good buddy? That also made no sense. Except...it almost sort-of kind-of did. They kept saying wasn't the kind to usually get access to someone of the female persuasion. He had even admitted he usually had to pay for his sexual encounters. And on top of it, he was damaged. He might actually get all giggly and awkward, like a randy puppy that's too excited to control itself. Like he had started to with her, last night.
Damaged.
That word stuck in her head. Zeke was damaged. Nat and JJ were damaged. Was Spit? Was Dax? There was nothing about that in TF's info on them. Was there something she was missing, here? Some detail she'd passed over in her drive to plot a course of revenge?
TF had brought her only the necessary background on all of them, but something else in all of it was how not once had there been previous accusations of rape. Nothing since, either.
No, no...hold on, Carli. Hold on. Don't go getting all sentimental just because they were once soldiers who got hurt serving the military-industrial complex. There were millions of them who didn't hold down and rape young women.
It's just, there was something else in play, and she needed to dig deeper before she let herself get all weepy and bleeding-heart over them. Or not. Because the fact of the matter is, that video was damning. Was absolute. And even though Zeke had not been seen on it, that didn't really mean anything. It had cut off, suddenly, and there was whispering of another voice in the background. A voice she couldn't make out. Plus, Dax was only seen watching the rapes, a couple of times. Almost cheerleading. That alone was reason enough to punish him. And if Zeke had done nothing to stop it? If he had been there but had only watched, as well?
Well...then maybe he should the last to die. She laughed. That made her sound like the Wicked Witch of the West.
"The last to go will see the first three go before him!" she cackled. "And his mangy little dog too."
She drove on, still laughing. Her plan was back on track. A vow would still be kept.
And tomorrow promised to be a most glorious day.
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