Free In The End: a pre-apocalypse novel by Edward M Wolfe Page A

to his left.
    “It’s time for me to learn you a lesson.” He lifted his right hand and the sound
of her screaming filled the room for just a second until his left hand came flying in at her face, stopping her voice instantly.
Her cheek turned red and both of her lips began to bleed.
    She was momentarily dazed. She
could feel heat as her blood traveled to her cheek to begin immediate repair of
broken capillaries. Her mouth felt swollen and numb on the right side. Her
brain was rattled and her mind was still for the moment. She continued taking
ragged breaths, staring at Carl with a combination of fear and hatred.
    Carl took a long swig of the cold
beer. It was warm inside the house and his body temperature was high from his
increased heartbeat. Taking total possession of this woman was exciting, and he
hadn’t even gotten started yet. Carl raised his hand as if to strike the
woman’s face again.
    “Do you need another one? I’ll be
happy to give it to you…”
    Her chest rapidly rose and fell
with her quick breathing. For the first time, she did more than scream at Carl.
Her throat was dry from adrenaline and exertion. When she spoke, she didn’t
sound like herself.
    “My husband will kill you,” she
told him in barely more than a whisper. “And when he does, you’ll go straight
to--“
    Carl hit her in the face before she
could complete the sentence. This time he used his fist. She looked like she
was knocked out cold, but just to make sure, he hit her once more. He was tired
of playing games with her. She needed to recognize who was in charge of this
here situation.
    He saw a framed photo of a man in a
military uniform sitting on the end table beside the couch. The picture looked
like the ones Carl always saw on the freeway, talking about honor and
integrity. Shit like that.
    “Fuck you, soldier boy. I’m gonna learn your wife what a real man is.”
    He lifted his beer to his mouth and
held it there, tipping the bottle further and further until it was empty. He
burped from the large dose of carbon-dioxide and threw the bottle at the framed
photograph, shattering both of them. He was just about to pick up the woman and
find a place to take her when Trey came back in to the room.
    “No beer?” He was starting to think
that Trey was less and less useful to have around.
    “I’ll get you one, but I wanted to
show you this. Figured you’d want to know.” Trey
handed Carl a 3rd generation Glock 17.
    Carl’s eyes lit up and he smiled.
    “It’s a pussy cop gun, but I’ll
take it. Is that all?”
    “It’s the only thing out in the
open. Found it in her closet on the shelf. There’s a gun safe in the other
room, but I can’t open it.”
    “Find a way,” Carl ordered.
    “It’s one o’ them fancy ones with
the—“
    “I don’t give a fuck!” Carl
growled. “Find a way in that goddamned safe and get me a beer.”
    Trey turned to get another beer
from the kitchen. He shook his head as he walked.
    What the fuck has gotten into Carl?
I thought we were friends.
    Carl had been fine that morning.
Even after Trey hit him, he was still his regular self. Trey thought if he hit
Carl now like he had earlier, Carl would probably kill him. He knew Carl was a
badass dude, but now it was like he didn’t even know him anymore. When Trey
returned to the living room with two beers this time, both for Carl, the room
was empty.
    He went down the hall and checked
the master bedroom. He was there. The lady was lying on her bed, still
unconscious.
    “More beer for you,
Carl.”
    Carl turned around and smiled when
saw the bottles.
    “You ain’t as dumb as you look.”
    He took both bottles and walked
over to the night-stand beside the bed and set one down. He opened the other
and took a drink.
    “Now get that safe open.”
    “I’ll see what I can come up with,”
Trey muttered as he walked into the hall, certain that there was no way in hell
he could open it.
    “And shut the door!” Carl yelled.
    Trey came back a