Page 43 of Judas
The day I witnessed her do that, destroy the pretty things I gave out of the kindness of my heart, the rage which built inside of me yearned to throw her into a hole with an assortment of nightmarish critters. But, there came a day where I understood her brand of pain, finding more kinship in a sibling the Lord promised I would have again.
I had her, at times at the end of my fingertips, and still chose not to touch her. Decided to not make her uncomfortable, pass her off as payment, but I was always going to go back to her. Even forgave her for cracking my skull open with her baton, for disobeying my single rule of not allowing other men to paw at her body. It was supposed to be us until the bloodline came to a halt, then she went off and got knocked up with the abomination sniveling in the trunk.
As angry I may be, I know forgiveness is part of being a true man of God. Nadia gave me a gift, even if she doesn’t know it yet. In the end, my work will be complete, and his word will be fulfilled.
Don’t kid yourself, Lucien. There are things you cannot comprehend.
That voice has become bold during my incarceration. Defying my demands, logic, and questioning my expertise. Perhaps it has been too long since repentance and that would do him some good—remind him of his subservience. All it would take is one or two good switches. Yes, that is a fantastic idea. I can kneel inside the tree line, away from the road, seek strength and forgiveness, then lash the branchlet along my leather-like scarred flesh. Maybe once we get to where we are going, I have a terror packed away that requires my attention and I mustn’t deviate.
Focusing on the road, I see a‘Welcome to Garibaldi Park’sign. It’s beautiful up here with snow already blanketing the mountains. The uncovered trees are well into their cycle of oranges, reds and golds. Contrasting that of the blue and white capped peaks. Being this far north, autumn comes quickly and leaves even faster. Either way, the view is breathtaking. A checkpoint comes into view, perverting God’s creation stretching as far as my eye can see. Too bad my sweet girl can’t experience the same joy of beholding this view for the first time—sucks being in the trunk. Rolling up to the turnpike, I pushgently on the brake pedal and bring the car to a creep, finally a stop as a park ranger approaches and looks down at me over his mirrored aviators.
“Purpose of entering the park today?” he probes.
“Recreation.”
He looks over me into the back. I assume he is checking the seats to see if I’m traveling with passengers or if there is any evidence of others before letting me in. Didn’t intend on stopping in Canada but things happen, and sweet violent girls have needs. We’ve done the motel stays too many damn times, so I sure hope she appreciates the improved state of the cabins here. She will also have more room to fight me—which I’ve grown oddly fond of. Causes my heart to race like the first day I kicked her down the embankment and hauled her back up to the car. It’s fascinating what the body will respond to, and the curious side of me wants to see what else she does to invoke the same reaction.
First thing’s first: she better keep her trap shut back there, at least until we are through this checkpoint and the ranger stops staring at me like he’s waiting for me to divulge secrets of the dead. As if on cue, one of her muffled cries fills the deafening silence between the ranger and I. He leans down and looks through the rear windows once again. This time, I’m sure, he’s checking the floor boards.
For the love of God, Sadie, shut the hell up. I can’t let you out if I’m tending to a dead ranger.
“Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle, sir?”
I would, actually.
Parking then unbuckling my seatbelt, I open the door and push out of the car. Long legs unfold from the cramped quarters of the car, groaning under the need to stretch—perk of Nadia’s terrible aim. That’s a lie; she hit both of them with precision, like she knew we would be here one day. So close to bringingour family back together. Not sure if I should be proud of her or angry that she didn’t hit center body mass. Standing now, I step off to the side where the ranger directs me, telling me to ‘hang tight.’ The ranger waves over another one and they both start to search the vehicle. My eyes zero in on every movement they make, watching one ease to the front of the car, the other doing the same with the back. Both running their finger tips along the car’s smooth exterior, smearing their sebum without need on the clear coat.
Tension coils in my shoulders and back, radiating down my arms to where my hands flex. To keep from drawing attention to them, I shove them in the pockets of my ripped jeans where they can fist on their own accord. It soothes me for a fraction of a second, the smaller space of my pockets grounding me so we don’t end up on the seven o’clock news.
Cold wind makes its grand entrance in a rough gust which whips my loose-fitted white shirt around my waist a bit. Under normal circumstances, someone might shiver or even get goosebumps, but the fire building inside of me wards off the chill—smothered irritation. She will be punished for this fucking stunt later, and I’m going to enjoy every bit of scarring her pretty skin. Taking a fist to the face, being kicked down a hill, locked in a trunk, starving her, forcing her to hold her bladder, and walking her across a gas station parking lot like a dog must not have been enough. She’s going to learn the importance of atonement.
The rangers round the back of the car and immediately reach for the release button hidden just above the license plate. When it’s yanked open, the springs cause it to jump and bob slightly in the fully-open position. A new gust of wind helps pin it in place and my inner demons roar. If she gets me thrown back into prison, I’ll haunt her from the damn grave after I swing from the highest bar I can find.
Trust in her, Lulu.
Mother.
Time stills, my thoughts flirting with the intricate ways I’m about to skin these men alive miles deep in the forest. When? If they put their eyes on Sadie tonight, then I’ll force her to watch. Staple her eyelids open if I have to. She will learn what happens to people when her poor decisions draw too much unwanted attention.
With a thud, the rangers close the trunk and mosey back to the driver side of the car. They can’t see it, but there’s wave after wave of perplexity rolling through me as to what in the world just happened. Why they glanced into the trunk and seemingly decided a half-beaten young woman wasn’t a pressing concern.
“You’re free to go, sir. Enjoy the park,” Ranger Number Two states firmly. The first, however, continues to aim his scrutiny at me. Rightfully so. Lifting my hand up, I award them with a small mocking salute and step back to the car. Confusion and curiosity fight for dominance as I collapse back into the driver seat. Not wasting any time, I yank my seatbelt over my chest and lap, buckling it with a bit more aggression than what is required to make sure the pieces latch together. The rolling frustration from earlier starts to overfloweth my fucking cup. Shifting the car out of park, I give it enough gas to pull away from the check point.
The mechanical whirr of the car is all that can be heard at this point—the soothing music from earlier sitting on pause with the volume turned down to zero. I need the silence to think clearly, especially since the demons are swarming and snapping at me to pull over and see where in the fuck she went.
What did the rangers see? Why didn’t they say anything? They really just let anyone into this park with a still-warm body in the trunk? Something isn’t right, and that puts me on an edge that no one wants me to tip over.
I stew and drive for another good fifteen to twenty minutes. Crawling deeper into the park, one tire rotation at a time. Until I come up on one of the plentiful forlorn drives veering off to the left side of the road. Slowing, my eyes flick up to the rearview mirror, as well as my sides, checking our surroundings. There are rentable cabins in this park but I remember my pops saying that many of the elite have a few tucked away in most forests that can be found if you just look for them. Luckily for us, the one I was gifted is in this area.
One way to track them down is to look for old drive paths. The one sitting to my left draws me into it, looking as if it hasn’t been touched in years—very likely given its condition. There will be debris to move out of the way as I go, which makes things dangerous for me—for the both of us. From the corner of my eye, I can see the overhanging trees dipping low to the ground, almost like the forest is attempting to close in on itself. Wound like in hope to stitch trees to the ground. Slowly closing the gap from all angles until nothing remains but memory and the soft scar of a lush-green path.
Finally making the turn, I ease the car off the gravel road and under the low hanging branches. Slipping delicately into the tree line and disappearing from sight. We ease down the old drive-path, rolling over a few small bumps and dipping into a divot here and there. But, for the most part, I’ve been blessed to get far enough away from the main road before needing to stop and drag a branch off the path. One that has borne too much snow weight and finally came crashing down.
By the time we dip far enough into the tree line, the canopy has blanketed us in a shadow despite the sun shining high above. My frustration from earlier has finally flared to an inferno I cannot keep contained. Suppose Mavis’s little therapy sessions have done their due diligence in keeping me centered and laying off the murder. But I can't take it anymore.
Slamming the car into park, not yet in a full stop, the sound of grinding gears makes a chill race through me. Ignoring the reaction, my body launches out of the door, leaving it wide open as the car sits there idling. Okay, maybe I lied. Maybe I’m just finding different ways to manifest the fury raging inside of me. Instead of racing to the back of the car, I’m now pacing outside of it, hands reaching up into the black strands of my hair and pulling at the roots until they sting and burn my scalp
They should have seen her, did I lose her somewhere? Did she sneak out before we left the last gas station?
