Free Fall of Venus by Daelynn Quinn

out.”
    “Just
a sec,” says Marcus, and then he quickly limps up the stairs, holding the rail
for support. After a few seconds he comes hopping back down the stairs and
unlocks my chains.
    Marcus
takes my left hand and reaches under my other arm to lift as he helps me stand.
And I’m glad he does. I’m really starting to feel the pain radiate throughout
my body. From the scratches on my arms and legs and ankle, to the throbbing on
the side of my face, to my aching muscles all over. I feel like a crash test
dummy after a few too many tests. I don’t think I can go anywhere right now.                   
    Marcus
practically carries me to the top of the stairs despite his sore leg. Once we
reach the top, the putrid odor hits me like a runaway train, almost knocking me
back into the cellar. Then I look down to see that I’m standing in a lustrous
pool of scarlet red blood. Just a step away from me is the body of Lucy, with a
single bullet in her head. I can see Victor’s legs at the bottom of the stairs
behind the front door. A wave of heat rolls over me and I feel my throat begin
to swell up again. If I don’t get out of here fast, I’m going to throw up.          
    “Take
me outside,” I say to Marcus. We go out the front door and he sets me down in a
padded rocking chair. It’s surprisingly comfortable, considering its hard,
rigid appearance.
    “I’ll
go find us something to eat,” says Marcus. “You must be starving.” My stomach
turns in knots at not only the thought of eating anything from that nasty
kitchen, but also fear of being alone.
    “I’m
okay,” I say. “I’m really not that hungry. My head is pounding. I think I’m
going to be sick.”
    “I’ll
see if I can find some pain meds here,” says Marcus.
    “Don’t
leave me,” I plead, clamping his hands in mine with what little strength I have
left. My eyes beg on bended knees and his soften, sinking into mine. He reaches
into his back pocket and hands me a handgun. The quizzical look on my face
amuses him.
    “I
got it off one of the guys. It’s loaded. If you see anyone just point and pull
the trigger.” I have to admit, even though I’ve never liked guns, this does
give me a sense of security. I think I can handle being alone for a few
minutes.
    “There’s
canned food in the cellar. Don’t get anything from the kitchen. I wouldn’t
trust anything from in there,” I say, gripping my fingers around my nose. “Oh!
And that girl said something about making a call. See if you can find a phone.”
    Marcus
smiles, “Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Remember, point and shoot.” Then
he disappears into the house.
    The
sun is setting, painting a gorgeous canvas of red and orange hues in horizon
dissolving into the purple above us. It’s a beautiful, contrasting background
to the cigarette butts scattered along the dusty front porch. The hum and
rattling of a generator disrupts the silence over the countryside surrounding
the house.
    Marcus
comes out for a brief moment to hand me two little white pills and a glass of
water, before returning inside. I don’t know how long Marcus was in there, but
it took longer than I’d expected. He comes out of the screen door backwards,
pushing the door with his back while holding two steaming hot plates of food:
baked beans, sweet corn, and wild rice.
    “Wow!
How did you--you used the kitchen, didn’t you? Are these plates even clean?” I
ask.
    “Don’t
worry, I took care of everything. And you’re welcome,” says Marcus.
    “Thank
you, Marcus. This smells delicious.” Marcus falls into the rocker next to me
and we gaze at the magnificent work of art in front of us.
    “The
landline is dead,” says Marcus. “I checked the bodies and the woman had this.”
He tosses me a cell phone. I open it up, but there’s no number pad, just a
single button. I’ve seen these before. Parents would give these to their kids
to call them while they’re out, but they