Surge (93 page)

“John, I know you hate the sight of me right now, but do you feel violated?” I ask without preamble.

After running through the maze for ten minutes like a chicken with its head cut off, some lady finally took pity on me and directed me to the exit. I thanked my savior before sprinting to the cabins. They each have numbers, and since we’re the newest arrivals, I figured that they would put us in succession. You know 54, 55, 56... Well, let’s just say that I was proved wrong when I barged into three different cabins, one where a guy was eating a potato cake but he ignored me as he kept on chewing. Another where a lady was doing laundry, she said I was welcome to stay, so long as I didn’t snore. I told her thanks for the offer, but I was taken. Thankfully, she took the news better than Dennington.

As for the last cabin, I don’t think it’s legal for me to repeat what I saw. But I will tell you that it involved two naked bodies, a turkey baster, honey and chicken feathers. I don’t know what the feathers were for, but what I do know is that I declined their offer of a threesome and got the fuck outta there. I’m all for kinky sex, but I’m not that adventurous. Besides, I’m celibate until Olivia is gone from my mind and heart, which I would guess to be never. Poor Junior will have to limit himself to being stroked by his master for life.

So, after three strikes, I finally abandoned my man card and asked a guy for directions. I know that he was disappointed in my internal GPS, because he shook his head sadly and pointed me in the direction of the front office. He said that they would be able to tell me where the new arrivals were placed and draw me a map so that I wouldn’t have to unman myself by asking a woman for directions. I kid you not; he actually said that, so I thanked him for his macho wisdom and did the walk of shame down to the office.

Wouldn’t you know it, but a woman was the one to draw me a map with her curly script while she batt her lashes at me coyly. Obviously, there’s a shortage of men here if they’re all eyeing me like I’m filet mignon when I know that I’m more of an overly charred steak that resembles Freddy Krueger right now. As I’ve said before, I’m not vain, but before I looked like I belong on a burn unit, I was a good looking guy. Girls used to chase after me for my dark hair and unique eyes, but I don’t have half of my hair; I have patches of peach fuzz, a reset nose that’s still swollen, a split lip, my right eye is nearly swollen shut so you can’t really see their color, and I’m covered in burns and scabs. So, there’s no fucking way that I’m hot shit right now, nor do I want to be. The woman I want, I can’t have, and I won’t go looking for a counterfeit as a replacement.

Anyway, back to John. I searched him out because he’s my best friend, and even though he’s pissed, I know that he’ll talk to me. The map the nameless flirt drew up for me, showed that each of our new group members were housed in section C row D, which goes horizontally on the map instead of vertically like I was checking. For instance, John’s cabin is 46, and then someone else is in 36, and so on. So, we’re all in the sixth cabin of each row. Who the fuck came up with such a stupid design, I don’t know; but he or she should’ve been smacked for making a simple numerical order, complicated by adding letters and shit like it’s a freaking algebraic expression. I bet Mike would have a fucking field day with this map.
‘If Jared is in cabin 56 in section C row D, how long would it take Sarah to walk from cabin 26 in section C row D to meet him?’
Yeah, I’m so not solving that shit. I didn’t like it back in high school, and I sure as shit don’t like it now.

Pointless sorting system set aside, I haven’t been inside my own cabin yet, so I don’t know how many each of them house, or how many cabins our group filled out. John’s cabin is actually a decent size, two small bedrooms that I can see from my spot on the couch in the living room, one bathroom, a kitchen/dining combo with a living area that has its own fireplace. I’m curious as to who they housed him with, because right now, there’s no one else here.

“Violated, how?” John asks without looking away from his functioning lamp light. He’s sitting in an armchair across from me and just keeps flick the table lamp on and off, over and over again.

“Quit doing that, before you start a fire,” I say. “Or have the sheriff come kicking the door in for wasting electricity.”

“It’s green energy,” he counters. “The river that feeds into the lake is filtered through pipes, and leads to a water mill. That’s what powers their generators in the buildings. Then they have solar panels on the roofs of the buildings and all one hundred of the cabins.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“I noticed the panels on the roof and asked the lady who brought us to our cabins how they have electricity,” he answers. “She was more accommodating than
Ollie’s
friends.”

“You picked up on that too?” I ask and he nods as he finally looks away from his new lamp.

“Kinda hard not to. What I’m curious about is why she’s so comfortable around them? I mean, she was preparing to slit our throats for a silly comment, but they were licking her feet and telling her to use her tongue, but
‘Ollie’
didn’t even lift her machete once.” John shakes his head. “But you don’t care about those things since you’re through with her, so she’s free to do whatever she wants, and we won’t take up any more of your precious time to talk about such insignificant things.” I scowl, but he ignores it. “Anyway, what was it that made you feel violated?”

“
Di
-rec-
tor
Dennington,” I repeat in my imitation of her self-important tone.

“A.K.A. Captain Kooky Cougar,” John replies and I laugh.

“So, I wasn’t the only one that she came onto then?” John shakes his head.

“Nah, you weren’t singled out, so don’t feel special,” he tells me.

“I don’t,” I say with a grimace. “Who else did she get?”

“Anyone with a dick who was under forty,” John says. “Actually, not anyone, since she didn’t proposition Akio. Mike’s over forty, so she didn’t take a bite outta him, Tommy came running out with a terrified expression, the twins looked a little queasy, and Cory said in no uncertain terms that he’s glad he was leaving.”

“And you?”

“I told her I had herpes,” he answers. Only John would come up with such an excuse and say it so bluntly. “When that didn’t faze her, I said that if her archaic vagina came anywhere near me, I’d blow a gust of air at her so strong that her brittle bones would break down to ash, and carry her away in the wind.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” he confirms. “She didn’t take too kindly to that, so she assigned me to be a farmer.” John shrugs. “I’ll plow fields all day long, but I most fucking definitely will not be plowing into her.” He shivers with revulsion, before looking at me. “How’d you get out of being her boy toy?”

“I’m happily married, and we’re expecting our first baby.”

“Congrats. Who’s your wife, and why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?”

“It was a quiet ceremony,” I answer.

“And your wife?” Damn, I knew he’d focus on that.

“Made her up.”

“Fucking liar,” John retorts and points at me. “You’re ears are red, and they only get that way, when you’re a lying fuck. Who’s your fictional wife?”

“They’re burnt,” I protest.

“The right one is burnt,” he concedes. “Not the left one, which is currently fire engine red, so who the fuck is your wife?”

“..ia,” I mutter.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” John holds his hand to his ear. “It sounded like
‘I wanna be ya.’
And I know that you do wanna be me, but that’s not the answer I was looking for.”

“Olivia,” I repeat louder this time.

“Selfish prick. Stomp her in the ground, then spit on her, and you still have the balls to use her for your own benefit?”

“It didn’t work anyway,” I tell him to take the heat off of my assholery. “Denise still wants a piece of my charred body, regardless of my phantom family and hot wife.”

“Serves you right,” he says. “If you told Olivia the goddamn truth, she’d have probably stabbed that old bitch for coming onto you. Instead, you get to be harassed by Wrinkle Tits, until she finally croaks. But I doubt it’ll be any time soon, because evil just don’t die that easily.”

She ain’t evil, she’s hungry and horny; and the only thing that will satisfy that insatiable craving, is a guy young enough to be her son to service her cobwebbed vagina. But I’ll leave that nightmare where it belongs for now, and focus on what really matters.

“I couldn’t tell her,” I stress. “Olivia’s not staying, John. Hate me if you must, but I just can’t go along with her plan of suicide.” I rub my chest. “It fucking hurts, and I know that when she leaves and doesn’t come back, I’ll be destroyed. I can’t let that happen. Sarah needs me, the group needs me, and it would be selfish of me to not be here.”

“She needs you,” John counters.

“She doesn’t,” I deny with a head shake “She told me that herself.”

“After you called her a kicked puppy that deserves to be pitied.” I blink at him. “Yeah, we heard you. Small house with sucky insulation, so we heard every word. Especially the part about Travis. I had to hold Cory back on that one, but when you brought up the baby card, I let him loose. You know what that shit does to her, you saw it with Vicky, so that was a low blow of the worst kind.”

“I know,” I agree and rub a hand over my face. “You think I don’t feel like kicking my own ass right now? I do.” I pound a fist on my chest. “It felt like I stabbed myself, and it didn’t help when she cried for an hour, because I’m a douche bag.” I raise my busted hand in reference. “So, I did this, while you cleaned up my mess. How’d you calm her down?”

“I called you a fucking asshole, and told her that Cory beat your face in,” he answers with a shrug. “She didn’t like that he kicked your ass.”

“Why? I deserved it.”

“Because she wanted to do it herself,” John replies, but he has a smirk on his face, so I know that he isn’t telling the full story. I give him a look, which he rolls his eyes at. “Fine, that’s not what she said, but it’s what she should have.”

“What’d she say?” Yeah, I’m totally bouncing on my toes right now. Like I’ve said before, I didn’t want to give her up, so of course I’m yipping at his heels with excitement for any and all that has to do with Olivia.

“She was pissed at Cory.”

“Yeah, you already said that,” I say and curl my hand impatiently at him. “Why was she pissed at Cory?”

“Because he kicked your ass.” Why is he repeating himself? “Obviously, you don’t get it, so I’ll spell it out for you.” John walks over and grips my shoulders as he shakes me. “She cares about you, you dick.”

“No she doesn’t,” I say and brush his hands off my shoulders for getting my hopes up all for nothing. “She thinks that I was using her.”

“Using her how?” Fuck.

“How much did you hear, exactly?” I ask, making John look suspicious.

“Enough that I wanted to take a swing or two myself,” he says. “Why?”

“But what did you hear?” I press. No need to bring up the fact that I kind of got a hand job.

“I was sleeping, since it was four in the fucking morning, and that’s what normal people do at that hour,” he says with a look at me. “So, I only heard the shouting when I woke up; and it was the kicked puppy stuff and onward that I heard, like I already told you.” Good, then he didn’t hear me moaning.

“Great,” I say and he looks even more suspicious. Dammit, need to divert this train, before it runs off the track. “What I meant is that you heard most of it already, so I won’t have to repeat it. Anyway, Olivia had this weird idea that I was avoiding her because she wouldn’t put out. She thought me being her friend was just a ploy to get in her pants. Why, I don’t know, but she did, so it escalated from there. My fear came off as anger, and I pulled some cheap shots to get her to go away. I admit it, I’m an asshole, but I’ve already told you my reasons for it, and I can’t go back now.”

“Okay, that very watered down, long winded explanation still doesn’t nix the fact that she cares about you. She may have thought
you
were using her, but
she
wasn’t pretending. You guys were attached at the hip for weeks, you think that she would have been smiling, or laughing at every stupid thing you said, if she didn’t care about you? Do you think the girl who dug a knife in your neck for touching her wrist, would have told you about her past if she didn’t trust you absolutely? Not to mention you’ve been sleeping in her fucking bed, when she doesn’t like being touched!” I hold up my hand because I can’t hear any more. If I do, I’m gonna run outta here and throw myself at Olivia’s feet, begging for mercy. And I can’t do it.

“I can’t.”

“No, you won’t,” John counters. “Quit using Sarah as an excuse, because that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re using her as a crutch.” I shake my head in denial. “You are, I know you Jared. You’re afraid of rejection, because your dad cared more about his job, than he did you. I know, I was there, remember? How many times did he say he’d be at your game, and didn’t you know it, but something came up last minute? How many times did you sit on the other side of his desk and ask him to go fishing with us? Or to the movies, a ball game, the fucking corner store! And how many times did he let you down?” Many times to all of the above. “You may have been a momma’s boy, but you wanted your dad’s approval in everything you did. You pretended you didn’t care, but you did. And you still do because you’re trying to keep your last promise to him, even though he never kept any that he gave to you.”

“That’s not true,” I say. “I gave up on him when I was twelve, and he didn’t come to “Bring Your Dad to School Day.” My freaking mom came, but your dad showed up. Your dad worked in the same office, had the same responsibilities as mine, and he still managed to come. Why the fuck couldn’t mine make it?”

“Because he was fucking his secretary,” John retorts. His eyes widen and he slaps a hand over his mouth. “Shit.”

“What?” I ask with a laugh. “What kind of sick joke is that, you dick?” John shakes his head.

“Never mind,” John says. When waves me off, it makes me zero in on him and feel a pit open up in my stomach. “You’re right, sick joke. I shouldn’t have said something like that about the deceased. It’s disrespectful.”