Untitled #1
Contributors: Ahchie, The Diesel, Brother Nature, Throcksmorton, Albuquerque Tom
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen (stay tuned...)
Herman soon decided that it was pointless looking for a weapon since he could barely see and his right arm felt like skewers had been driven to the bone. Both of his eyes were seriously swollen making him completely blind in his left eye. He lay on his back, in the dirt, talking himself through the pain. He braced himself for a deathblow that he wouldn’t see coming but would relieve him from this agony. He willed open his right eye an 8th of an inch to see the three hippies looking down at him.
“Step on his neck and get it over with,” said the gray haired hippie on the left.
“Yeah man, then we’ll take the van and get out of here,” said the other.
The hippie on the far right appeared to be the youngest of the three, eighteen at the oldest. He took a step towards Herman and was now standing directly above his face. He had the look of a soldier who was too young to question the orders that he was given despite knowing that he would have nightmares about it for the rest of his life.
As the two older hippies backed away, Herman could see another figure up the embankment behind them. He knew it was his mother as she was wearing a full-length baby blue dress and holding a shotgun. Herman sang softly to himself, “You got what I need, you say he’s…” His mother could hardly stand on the 30-degree incline and aim the weapon at the same time. With her body still gyrating from the latter stages of this afternoon’s seizure, the shotgun moved wildly about aiming at the hippies, Herman, or the trees. Hopefully, she pulled the trigger at the right time.
The older hippie said, “Meet us at the van when you’re done. Hurry - it looks like it’ll rain soon.”
As the two hippies turned to walk up the embankment, they turned directly into the deafening discharge of a shotgun only six feet in front of them. Momma fell hard to the ground as pieces of hippie flew through the air at lightning speed and coated the landscape. Instinctively the lone hippie fell to the ground only to look up and see that he was face to face with the bulbous eyed Herman. With more guts than strength Herman lifted up his head and bit into the cheek and jawbone of the hippie and pulled off a mouthful of flesh. The hippie screamed in pain and disbelief while quickly standing up. He stood above Herman in shock, ran up the embankment holding the side of his mauled face, and disappeared into the darkness.
The sound of nearby thunder cracked loudly and was immediately followed by a soaking rain that began cleansing Herman’s wounds. The rain transformed the loose dirt around him into a muddy mixture of bone, hair, and blood. Momma was still on her back, slowly sliding down the muddy embankment with only the involuntary spasms of her body signifying that she was not dead herself.
While the rain increased in intensity, Herman could hear a voice. As he slowly tried to raise himself up on his elbows, he could see the body of one of the hippies roll off of another hippie and roll a few feet on the ground. As Herman opened his eye a little more he could see a blood-covered hippie roll over onto his knees next to the body of the deceased hippie. The hippie stood and shook his head, then looked down at his clothes and grabbed at his shirt in confusion. He looked at the body of his fallen brother and looked up at Herman. He turned toward the hill and saw Herman’s mother lying at the foot of the hill and covered in mud. She was unconscious. The hippie walked over to Herman and, with his foot, pushed Herman’s head back to the ground with a muddy splash. He then turned and walked over to Herman’s mother.
Herman lifted his head back up and saw the hippie step up the hill, grab the shotgun and toss it a few feet away, then step back down the hill. The hippie then knelt next to the woman. Herman was feeling dizzy but kept watching. He could hear the hippie talking, but couldn't quite make out the words. He saw the hippie bend over and appear to check for breathing. He began to shake her as if to wake her up. He then stood up and stepped over to the shotgun. He picked it up and kneeling down at the head of the woman, he placed the gun on her chest and reached under her arms. He began to pull her up the muddy hill.
Herman was getting anxious. He tried to get up but felt the pain throb in his head and almost blacked out again. He was able to roll over and get onto his knees. With the rain beating down on his head he could hear a voice but wasn't quite sure what was said. He thought he heard the hippie yell, “I am going to take her to get help. She's not moving. I am going to get help!”
Herman looked back over his shoulder and saw the hippie fall two times but manage to get her up the hill and disappear into the shadows of the trees. With thunder booming and his head throbbing Herman was able to slowly rise to his feet.
“Come on Eileen” had stopped playing the moment the tree branch struck Herman’s face. He was in bad shape, but started to feel more confident when he heard the voice of Bonnie Tyler singing, “Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming round...” As Herman retrieved his nightstick and .44 magnum the intensity of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” began building along with Herman’s adrenaline. Despite his injuries, he felt more alive than ever. Spitting out what was left of the young hippie’s cheek, Herman found renewed repulsion for the hippies. Not understanding why the one that was left did not finish him off, he felt the hippies were weak because they couldn’t even bring themselves to kill someone that was clearly an enemy.
As Herman made his way up the hill he had conflicting thoughts about momma. She came to save his life and clearly had no clue that his intention was to kill her. He kicked himself for having doubts about what he should do with her. Charlotte would know what to do. He even knew what Charlotte would tell him to do.
After Herman had made it just a few steps up the hill, a voice behind him interrupted Bonnie Tyler, “Where do you think you’re going?”
Herman realized that this was the voice he had heard moments earlier and that the hippie that left with momma was talking to it instead of him. Turning around, Herman saw that the voice belonged to an old man who resembled Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, only this man’s clothes were more like those of Grizzly Adams in lieu of the orange prison jumpsuit favored by Ted. The old man did not appear to be armed.
“They’re not going to get very far and you are in no condition to go after them.” The old man spoke quietly, but had a commanding presence.
Eying the old man suspiciously, Herman asked, “Who are you?”
“The name’s Caesar,” came the reply.
Herman pointed his magnum at Caesar and said, “What makes you think I won’t kill you right now?”
Caesar chuckled, “What would be the point? I’m just an old fool – I’m not what you want.”
Herman stole a glance back up the hill. He wanted to get moving, but the old man intrigued him. He had heard about Caesar, but always figured the stories about him living alone in the woods for the last thirty years weren’t true. Herman lowered his gun. “What do you have to do with the hippies?” he asked.
Caesar shrugged, “They come to see me from time to time. They think I’m some wise man who can guide them. They’ve put me up on a pedestal, so to speak. I talk to them. They’re nice enough, but I stopped caring long ago. I mainly put up with it because they bring me food.”
Caesar motioned toward the remains of the dead gray haired hippie. “That one,” he continued, “that was Tommy. He was the mean one. But even he couldn’t have brought himself to kill you. They couldn’t bring themselves to kill anything – the whole peace and love thing, you know? If there was a diseased rat gnawing on their body, they would still find a way to wish it well and set it free.” Caesar shook his head either in admiration or disbelief.
“What about the others?” asked Herman.
“Well, the young one with part of his face missing, thanks to you, is known as Doobie. He joined up with ‘em thinking how great it was going to be to get free from the hassles of everyday real world life, but I think he’s become disillusioned with it all. That bite you took probably shook him up pretty bad – I doubt if I’ll ever see him in these parts again. And the one that dragged the woman off calls himself Scout. He’s the dreamer. He’d try to talk tough whenever Tommy was around, but he’s the most passive of them all. He gets annoying after a while, always talking about what this world could be like. Never wants to accept that there is evil out there.” With that last comment, Caesar stared directly into Herman’s eyes.
Herman wasn’t rattled, but he didn’t like the implication. “You think I’m evil?”
Caesar’s reply came quick and sharp, “I don’t give a crap what you are. I don’t know what your story is, but from what I’ve seen I’d have a hard time calling you a saint. Maybe you have a good reason for whatever it is you do with your time. Like I said, I stopped caring long ago. Now you do what you want. If you come with me I can patch up those wounds. Either way, I’m getting out of this rain.”
The rain did not look like it was going to let up anytime soon. Even though this was home, Herman never could get used to the weather around here. Just a short time ago the sun was blazing down on him.
Herman usually was quick to decide on his next move, but was undecided about whether to find his momma, or tend to his wounds. Knowing the rain would stop sooner than later as those quick thunderstorms usually do, he decided to follow the old man for now and try to get his head clear. Not sure how far this detour would take him away from this bloody patch of grass and mud, he said, “Hold on, I need to get to my van. I need my cell phone.”
The old man stopped, turned and said, “Fine, go ahead, you’ll see me up the path at the edge of the forest on your right. Follow me if you want, but I’ll not wait.”
Herman gave him a quick glance and hurried up the hill toward the van. Moving thru the shadows of the trees he could hear the van running. Quickening his pace he emerged from the forest only to see the purple van speeding away with mud flying back from the tires. Reacting on instinct in a natural smooth motion he whipped out the .44 magnum and fired three shots into the back of the van which swerved a few times, appeared to slide in the mud, and disappeared around a few trees and out of view.
“Damn!” Herman mumbled as he stepped forward into the clearing. He glanced right and saw the old man stop and watch. As Herman stepped toward the direction of the old man, he looked down and saw large clumps of hair from the hippie that was run over, but the body was gone. He clenched his fist as the rage began to build again. Bonnie Tyler was creeping back into his head. “Every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild...” He noticed the brown paper bag balled up in the mud, and some puddles of blood mixing with the rain.