Part 5

11/15/2024

Chapter Two

        “God! It fucking hurts! I'm gonna kill that bitch” Travis was half sobbing, half screaming about his destroyed right hand, blood pooling around him. “Vince, you gotta help me, get me to a hospital or something.”

       Vince pulled himself out of the remains of the table. A piece of wood was sticking out of his lower left side.  With a hard yank he managed to pull it out, blood trickling out of the wound.

       “You're not gonna kill her. I want her back, she's mine.” He growled as he inspected his new wound. It wasn't deep, satisfied, he pulled his shirt down and stalked over to where Ben lay crumpled on the floor. He grabbed his shirt and shook him hard, successfully rousing him. Ben was having trouble focusing his eyes but when his eyes finally landed on Vince’s face, they widened in horror. Vince seemed to have changed in the time he was passed out. His facial hair seemed a bit scruffier, and he could see his new, intimidating canines poking out when he spoke.

       “What the fuck is your power, and why the fuck didn’t you try to help?” Vince growled and pushed Ben against the wall. He winced when his head hit, aggravating his already injured skull. His vision seemed to be going blurry again, it seemed to him that there were two of Vince.

       “She knocked me out, there was nothing I could do!” Ben could see Vince’s flannel was stretched almost to its limit with his muscles. There was no way he was this big before, he’s getting stronger, he realized with fear. 

       “I just think it's awfully funny you haven't shown us what you got yet. Maybe you're one of the useless ones, with no powers. Maybe I should just kill you now.” Vince sneered and excitement showed in his eyes. “Maybe I have to find a way to pry it out.” While still holding him with one hand, Vince pulled out a Bowie knife that was in a sheath attached to his hip. He traced a line under Ben's neck, a thin line of red appeared.

       “No, I have powers, I just have to figure out how to use them. I swear. I can feel it.” Ben's leg grew wet, convinced he was going to die. He had to keep up the lie or Vince would kill him. The sound of something dripping below Ben tore Vince’s attention away from the knife and his neck. He looked to see what it was, and he threw him back on the ground. He glared at Ben in disgust.  

       “Either way, you're helping us get her back, your fucking fault anyway. Fucking useless.” Vince kicked him in the ribs and walked away. Ben yelped and curled up into a ball, nursing his bruised ribs. 

       “Please, man, fucking help me! Call 911 or something!” Travis seemed to be getting paler by the minute, his hand was still squirting out fresh blood with every heartbeat. 

       “We can't call 911, you know that. We would go to jail. Just let me fucking think.” Vince grabbed Travis and forced him onto the couch and inspected the mangled hand carefully.  Exposed ligaments and bones peaked out of the split skin; some fingers seemed to be only attached by a thread.  “There's no way we can save this. I think we need to cut it off.” Vince actually looked disheartened at this, deep underneath all his tough demeanor, he still had a soft spot for his little brother. 

       “No fucking way man. That's my hand!” Travis jerked away from Vince. Protecting his ruined hand inside his blood-soaked jacket. 

       “We can't go to the hospital anymore. The world is falling apart. My guess is that soon the hospitals will no longer function, you know they need electricity for that shit. If we wait any longer, you'll end up with an infection. Don't you remember my hog last year? Injured his foot and infection set in, had to chop off the whole leg. He made some tasty bacon though, remember? I cooked that hog up for your birthday last summer. You loved that.” Vince had to convince Travis that this was the best option or risk losing him. He needed his second in charge. Travis went pale. He looked down at his hand, blood was still steadily pouring out of it.  “I don't think I can.” he muttered.

       “Oh, don't you worry.  I can, but when I'm done, you need to use that special new power of yours to cauterize this. Can't have you bleeding out before we take over the world, can we?” Vince grabbed Travis’s bloody arm and placed it on the arm of the couch, positioning it so the hand and wrist hung off. Travis pulled the collar of his jacket up and bit down as hard as he could, eyes squeezed shut.

       “Ready?” Vince grinned; his elongated canines gleamed in the light. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled out the knife from his dingy sheath on his hip. In one fell swoop, the bowie knife sliced cleanly through the destroyed bones at the wrist. Luckily, April managed to keep the carnage focused to the hand and wrist. Blood gushed out of Travis’s stump, and he promptly passed out.

       “Wake up! We aren't done. You need to cauterize before you bleed to death!” Vince slapped Travis across the face.  Travis stirred and was finally woken back up. He looked down at his arm abruptly ending at the wrist and screamed, a loud, bloodcurdling scream. Vince grabbed him by the shoulders and shook.

       “Travis! Shut the fuck up! You need to cauterize the wound before you bleed out!” panicking, Vince fumbled around in Travis’s jacket pockets, looking for his lighter. Travis moaned and tried to swat Vinces hands away. He could see Travis seemed to be pulling himself together so he backed off.

       Vince sat back and watched in awe as Travis placed his left hand around the end of his bloody stump, wincing as he did.  Subtle orange-white light that started in the middle of his palm began slowly growing to cover the whole end of his stump. Vince sniffed the air and could smell the distinct scent of burnt flesh. Sweat poured down Travis face, sheer willpower and urge to live was the only thing stopping him from screaming and running to pour water over his wrist. After a minute he pulled his hand back and inspected his now charred wrist. It had successfully stopped bleeding. He leaned his head back and seemed to pass out once more. 

       Vince grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it tightly around the end of the wrist, placing it gingerly back in Travis’s lap. He then picked up the mutilated hand and tossed it into the trash. 

       “Is..is…Is he okay?” Ben looked from Travis to the trash bin and back to Travis, horrified at the scene before. He got up off the ground, slightly hunched from the pain throbbing in his ribs grabbing the only non-damaged chair from the table set. 

       “Oh, he'll be fine, he just passed out from the pain, should come around soon.” Vince laid down on April's bed, “All this excitement calls for a quick snooze. Ben, wake me when Travis comes too. And don't you get ideas on doing something. I'll put you down faster than you can blink. If you know what's best for you, you'd just sit right there, Benny-Boy.” Vince pulled his ball cap lower over his eyes and settled into the pillow.