Page 43 of Love is Angry

“I thought I had issues with you, Maddie, but I think I hate Mackenzie more right now,” I gasp as we’re now in the final dash.

The cabin is a small thing made of wood, mostly, with square windows and a crooked chimney made of old, galvanized steel. Dirt and dead leaves cover most of the small porch and parts of the roof. Firewood is rotting outside by the tiny shed, about twenty feet from the cabin. This place is practically abandoned.

“Keep running, you little bitch!” Mackenzie snarls and shoots her BB gun at us. The pellets narrowly miss us as we jump onto the porch.

For a moment, I worry the whole thing is going to give out, as the old wood moans under the sudden weight. Madison tries to get us through the front door, but it’s locked. “Dammit!”

The Acolytes are getting closer. I can hear them. Some are laughing. Fucking sadists. I know Mackenzie can’t wait to tear me a new one and empty her clip, preferably up my ass. Aileen Wuornos would be so proud of her.

“Let me,” I tell Madison and take her place by the door. There’s a window right next to it. Worth a shot, I think, then rammy left elbow through and break it. A moment later, my hand is through and fumbling with the doorknob from the inside. As suspected, there’s a way to unlock it like that.

“Hurry!” Madison shrieks as a dozen pellets hit the front of the house. Wood splinters jump out, some close enough to poke us both in the eyes. We tumble into the cabin, and I shut the door behind us. I let a heavy sigh out as we have found sanctuary.

We’re going to get through the hazing ritual, provided we stay here until sunrise and let no one else in. Sounds easy enough, and I have no moral quandaries with regards to keeping innocent students out for the night. They should get to feel some of that BB sting, too.

Gah, I am such a dick.

“Phew,” I manage, sliding onto the floor with my back firmly pressed against the door. Mackenzie is out on the porch, cackling like Cruella Deville. The Acolytes go around the cabin a couple of times before they come back to the front. We see their silhouettes moving through the windows and hear their heavy boots. “Well, at least we have the cabin all to ourselves.”

“You make it sound like a weekend in Aspen,” Madison snorts and proceeds to put as much distance between us as possible. She’s basically on the other side of the open living room, while I keep my position by the door.

“Remember,” Mackenzie shouts. A few crows squawk in response. Family is family, after all. “You don’t let anyone else in, or you’ll be disqualified. You leave before dawn, and you’ll be disqualified. Oh, and I forgot to mention, these cabins are haunted. You two lovebirds are in for a rough night.”

Madison scoffs from the kitchenette. “Can I bash her head in with this old toaster? Or will that get us disqualified, too?”

“Meh, I think she might still be useful in the near future. I say spare the bitch and rub her nose in it when morning comes,” I reply.

Intrigued by the heavy silence that follows, I peek through the window just in time to spot Mackenzie and her goons leaving, their figures black against the blacker woods.

Looking over my shoulder next, I see Madison with her arms crossed and a permanent scowl etched into her beautiful face. Her eyes, though, they’re filled with a sadness darker than the night. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen to my brain, but I’m starting to see bits and pieces of just how much I’ve hurt her. Who knows?

After my breakdown the other night, I fear that my conscience has awakened. Every other minute, I wonder if my mom would like the Rhue I’ve become. Each time, the answer is a disappointing ‘no’, and I doubt it will change unless I do some serious soul searching.

What is the point of all this hurt, anyway? Who benefits? The more Madison suffers, the more miserable I become. So why is the darker side of me still so furious and desperate to punish her?

“Shall we grab a coffee while we wait?” I quip, hoping she’ll follow the tone.

“Fuck you, Rhue.” She turns her back on me, and there’s my answer.

Oh, no. I’m looking at a long and empty night.

Chapter 20

Rhue

A couple of hours pass in awkward silence. I try to make conversation here and there, but I am constantly met with no more than a dry “hm” or absolutely nothing. It only serves to make me feel more insecure. That’s probably the point, anyway. Maximum discomfort. It’s the mildest form of punishment Madison could inflict upon me, anyway. I should be thankful that this is all I’m getting. I deserve much worse.

We’ve checked the cabin from top to bottom. It definitely hasn’t been lived in in forever, but there’s a surprising amount of viable food in the pantry, along with several six-packs of beer. I guess the seniors aren’t that fucked up, after all.

Two bags of cheese crackers lay open on the coffee table, now, and I’ve already had three beers. It’s getting cold, and there isn’t enough alcohol in them to even get me buzzed. There are also tuna, spam and bean cans we can dig into, plus some flower and yeast powder and about two bags of salt in the pantry. I’m in no mood to knead dough but if push comes to shove I could whip out a bread if needed.

There’s wood in the tiny basement below, too. That chamber is isolated and fitted with a ventilation hole, completely dry andclean, perfect for storing pretty much anything. It isn’t heated, either, so if there are freezing temperatures out here in the winter, it’s a good place to keep fresh meat, too. Fresh meat from a hunt. Oddly enough, I could see myself camping here for a week or two. Just me and the wild woods, no other human in sight. Well, maybe one human.

“Not hungry?” I ask Madison, noticing how she stares at the crackers on the table, yet refuses to get away from the window.

“What part of ‘fuck you, Rhue’ didn’t transpire earlier?” she replies.

“I’m trying to bury the hatchet here.”

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