Anaideia 27

Around 5pm we packed our shit and exited the hotel room and I threw the room key onto the receptionist’s desk and apologized. “Sorry for destroying the room,” I said. “You should really clean up this shit hole.”

“Get the fuck out,” he ordered.

This was the last man we spoke to for several days. We left the one horse town and trekked back up the mountain slope and towards the pass as the sun fell below the horizon. We passed the Bacardi bottle between us before realizing it wouldn’t last till midnight and we finished drinking it anyway. An hour later we came across the creek where we last encountered Penelope and filled our canteens. Vic wondered along the shoreside looking for her footprints and when he found where he was attacked, he followed her path over a ridge away from the pass. “This way!” he declared. So we went over the ridge and deeper into the mountains before finding a comfortable spot to camp. When we found one, Dale pissed around the perimeter while Vic made a fire.

“Dale, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask.

“Supposedly snakes and scorpions won’t cross over human piss,” he explained.

We all took turns standing watch throughout the night but the mountains were eerily silent. The next morning we packed up and penetrated deeper into the rocky terrain. Our elevation was steadily climbing and the air was harder to breathe. We gnawed on jerky throughout the day which caused massive dehydration yet Vic was pushing forward at breakneck speed.

“We ate all the goddamn jerky!” Dale yelled and threw down the non-biodegradable bag on the ground.

Vic noticed a ridge line of trees and ran ahead of us. We heard a gunshot echo from the that direction and minutes later we saw him peer out of the woods with a coyote carcass. “Here’s some sustenance,” he said and dropped the body.

That night we feasted on coyote meat and in the morning we continued the march. The dry dirt and sun baked rocks eventually gave way to pine needles and evergreens and the air grew crisp and clean. We didn’t know how deep into the mountains we were and only Vic provided any sense of direction. Though I had assumed Old Jim would have tired by then but he seemed reinvigorated. I on the other hand became weary of the purpose of our pursuit. When we came to a bluff overlooking yet another deep valley, I had had enough.

“Are you sure we’re on the right path?” I asked Vic.

“Goddamn you! Of course I’m sure!” he spat back.

Perhaps we should have followed the doctor’s advice and taken Vic to a real hospital. His quest for vengeance was overpowering any good sense left in his mangled brain. We had escaped certain death only days earlier but like a desperate gambler we kept going all in. But finally the gamble paid off. As the alpine winds swept through the valley and threatened to chill us, Vic noticed a yellowish speckle on the ground. He knelt down to rub his finger across it then placed his finger to his lips and licked it.

“It’s her alright,” he said.

The sky darkened and the winds picked up and we sought shelter in the nearby woods. While the rest of the group set up camp, I ventured a little deeper into the wood on a whim. About 50 feet away from camp, sitting alone on a small meadow on top of dead pine was a brown open crowned cowboy hat similar to that of the late Karl’s. To my chagrin I realized that Vic was right: we were on the right path.

I picked up the hat and carried back to camp where the others were roasting the meats of rabbit and vermin captured earlier in the day. I squated down and tossed the hat in the middle for all to see. “Damnit Vic,” I uttered, “you’re right. I don’t know how but you’re right.”

Vic chewed off a hunk of rabbit meat impaled on a stick and spat out the fat. “Aye mate,” he said. “I told ya before that I’ve seen the devil. She’s the foulest and most evil thing in these hills. The devil can run but she can’t hide because I know her face. I know her name. I know what she thinks. And I know where she sleeps. It makes you wonder why she’s called the devil. Maybe I’m the terror that stalks these mountains.”

As nightfall came and the fire died, I covered myself in the stolen nylon blanket and held my Uzi tight. I could barely sleep a wink as I kept one eye on Vic. Five days we had been looking. I chose to give it one more day. It was a morning of blistering cold and I awoke from a flash of sleep to see Vic standing over me.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“Good morning?” I said.

“I have something I want to show you.”

While the others slept and a glimpse of morning skies hovered above, we marched a mile or two into a crowded wooded valley. By yet another creek bed, Vic kicked away a few stones and pointed to a pile of brown excrement. “Do you know what that is?” he asks.

“It’s a pile of shit,” I said.

“Aye. It hasn’t hardened.”

“So?”

“So, it means we’re close.”

“You think it’s Penelope’s shit?”

“No. In these parts, no other creatures could shit a log that big.”

Indeed, I agreed. The turd was at least a foot long and many inches thick. Vic stood watch while I retrieved the others and packed up camp. We caught up with him and ventured deeper into the mountains and as dusk approached we noticed a small plume of smoke rising from a camp fire above the tree line. Then we climbed higher to get a better look.

“We need to keep moving along the ridge to avoid these guys,” said Vic.

I disagreed. “We’re dangerously low on supplies,” I said. “We need to see if we can trade with these folks.”

“No!” he shouted.

“Vic, I don’t want to die out here!”

“My taint itches and I haven’t slept well in three days!” Dale said. “I need more booze.”

Vic balked and the group threatened to break up. Old Jim became the deciding factor so I asked him plainly, “do you want to approach the campfire?”

With the air of a wise old sage, Jim gazed towards the sky. “What campfire?” he asked.

“How are your eyes?” I ask him.

Jim again pulled out the Browning and twirled it around his finger. “Boys, I can still shoot the pecker off…”

“Alright!” Vic relented. “We’ll go towards the campfire! But be on high alert!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 23

Dale’s ass tormented us in the minutes after Karl’s fatal abduction. The van already reeked of sardine cans and discarded piss cups and his unceasing flatulence only compounded the issue. I couldn’t think straight. An unholy demon was stalking us and my judgement was clouded by the stench of funk ass.

“Dale have you ever considered getting on simethicone?” I ask.

“Poppycock,” he retorted. “God gave me this ass! And by golly! I plan to use it!”

But on more serious matters, in the front seat Vic and I concocted a plan of escape. It was once again a moonless sky and we were shrouded in deep and total darkness. “Are you certain that it’s Penelope you saw out there?” he asked me.

“Absolutely! It’s hard to mistake a bigass naked woman.”

“Christ,” Vic uttered the slammed the edge of his Bowie knife into the floorboard.

“What? You don’t believe me?” I ask.

“Oh I believe you mate,” he said. “I’ve seen her before. I thought I’d never see her again.”

“You’ve seen her before?”

“Aye. I was bear huntin’ near San Gabriel when I saw her standing on a ridge naked as the day she was born. I thought me eyes were deceiving me, mate. I was meters away but her eyes haunted me. They glowed like the fires of Antares and I knew she was fixin to kill me. I raised me rifle but like a flash she appeared in front of me and knocked me to the ground and tore into me flesh like a rabid wolf. Me mind knew I was as good as dead but my body didn’t give in. My arm lurched forward and grabbed her by the neck n’ with me knife in the other hand I stabbed her in the eye and she shrieked a noise I could never forget. She crawled away and ran off into the brush. And like that she was gone like a phantom in broad daylight. Gone as quickly as she appeared. I knew that I was the only man who lived to tell the tale. I swore from that day forth that I if I saw her again that I would kill her.”

“Vic, for all we know that could have been a different Penelope altogether. That was in California. This is Utah.”

“Nae mate,” he said. “Some things in this world cannot be explained. I’m the only man who ever ripped away certain death from her clutches. I know she’s coming for me.”

“I think we’re losing the thread here,” I said. “Our primary focus should be getting out of this basin alive. After that you can return and strangle Penelope til you’re blue in the face. But until then we need to make it through the pass.”

“Aye,” agreed Vic, “each man will need to carry a weapon.”

“What about Old Jim?”

I turn to Jim in the backseat who was still cool as a cucumber as he quietly hummed A Mighty Fortress is our God. I turn back to Vic. “Do you think we should leave Jim here and retrieve him in daylight hours after we make it into town?”

“Nae mate,” he said. “He’ll never survive the night.”

“Young pup,” Jim said in a rare moment of lucidity, “I may be an old man and shit my pants every night but I can still shoot the dick off a gnat. If you’re going up against Penelope, you’ll need every help you can get.”

“That’s settles it then,” I nodded. I shout to Dale in the back who was occupying himself with Pokémon on Gameboy. “Dale, have you ever shot a gun before?”

Dale looked up and thought. “No,” he said. “I’ve held one to my temple a few times but I never fired it.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” I said.

Vic pulled a black duffel bag from under the passenger seat and unzipped it. Inside was Stewart Rhodes’ wet dream: mortar rounds, grenades, an AK, a few Uzis, and everything to fight off a small army.

“How do you find this shit, Vic?” I ask.

“One can never be too prepared,” he said.

We distributed the weapons around to the four of us. “Remember,” I warned Dale when handing him the AK-47, “make sure it’s pointed away from you before firing.” I naturally took an Uzi and gave the Jim the Browning. Then we set out a game plan: we’d stagger out of the van and fan out a few meters away from the other to form a ‘net’. There was no guarantee of survival for everyone. But if Penelope snatched one of us up, she’d be caught in the line of fire.

Before opening the sliding door, I had one more line of encouragement. “Remember, she’s quick as lightening so keep your eyes sharp,” I said. “Also, thank you all for rescuing me. I didn’t think I had so many friend in the world.”

I looked into the eyes of the three: Vic was determined and ready; Old Jim was at peace with the situation; Dale couldn’t have given less of a shit.

I put my hand on the lever and pulled. “Good hunting gentlemen,” I said.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 22

Everything that was the Candyland Saloon, everything that Randy had worked for, was a pile of ash on a dry lake basin. Only Karl could muster a tear for the wretched place. He sat dumbfounded on his ass and glared at his bleeding and festering leg wound. “Just leave me here to die,” he told me.

“That’s too good of an ending for you Karl,” I said.

Vic admired the stars in the sky and then looked towards the mountain pass. “We need to get moving,” he said. “The town is 10 miles away.”

Dale removed the sucker from his mouth and signaled to his brown 95 Chevy Astro. “Van’s ready,” he said. “Sorry if it’s a mess in there. Been living in it since I burned my trailer down. I only got a quarter of a tank but it should get us there.”

I kick Karl on his leg and he groans. “Get up,” I ordered.

“I can’t,” he cried. “You done shot my leg!”

“Get up goddamn you!”

Vic pulls me by the arm. “Maybe we should leave him out here,” he suggested.

“Fuck him!” I shouted. “That’s exactly what he wants!”

“Oy, mate,” Vic said trying to calm me. “If you want to seek vengeance, you should go after Randy.”

I took a couple of deep breaths and nodded. “Perhaps you’re right,” I said then looked at Karl. “Perhaps bleeding out alone in the desert is a fitting end for you.”

I turn around and approach Old Jim who in his demented oblivion stood motionless gazing at the desert floor. “Well Jim,” I said, “are you ready to return to the civilized world?”

The breeze swayed his snow white beard as he gazed up to the sky. “The old folks used to say that god created the heaven and the earth in seven days,” he spoke. “But the deceiver dwells in the lake of fire with mouth agape waiting for the fall. I spent half my life in this dead lake. The Bible says that man shall not lay with man and that all homosexuals…”

“Okay, let’s get you to the van,” I interrupted.

I take his arm and slowly escort Jim to the beatup Astro. I roll open the sliding door and lift the old man into a passenger seat. The inside was littered with porno mags and tissue paper and I warn Old Jim to use hand sanitizer after touching anything. After I get him buckled I looked down to see two flat tires on the passenger side. I walk to the driver’s side and noticed the same.

“Fuck,” I said aloud.

“What?” shrugged Dale.

“How did you not notice they slashed your tires Dale?” I asked.

“What’s the big deal?”

“We’re in the middle of the goddamn desert! We kinda need tires to get out of this hellhole!”

“Sorry! I was inside the van all day catching up on some reading! I didn’t have time to notice…”

But before I could strangle Dale, Vic intervened. “Look, it’s nightfall,” he said. “I have enough supplies on me to get us to town. Of course we can’t travel fast because we got the old man but at least we’re not under the blistering hot sun.”

“You don’t understand,” I said. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“There’s something out there guarding that pass. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me mate,” Vic said.

I stammer around a bit trying to find the right words. “There’s a demon,” I said. “A castoff from hell.”

“A demon?”

“Her name is Penelope.”

Vic swallowed hard. “Penelope?”

“Yes.”

I march over to Karl, grabbed him by the lapels, and lifted him to his feet. “Is there another way out of this basin?” I interrogated.

Karl spat and laughed. “Looks like we’re all hell bound,” he cackled.

I drop him to his ass and throw off my hat. “We have little choice but to post up here,” I said to Vic. “We’ll set up a perimeter and stand guard in shifts throughout the night.”

Vic shook his head. “Mate, in the daylight heat, there’s no way we’ll make it through the pass.”

In a fit of rage, I kicked the dirt and pound my fist on Dale’s Astro. “Hey!” he yelled.

Vic calmly took me by the arm and lowered his voice. “Are you serious about Penelope?” he asks. But before I could respond, a galloping torrent rushed through the basin. A swoosh sound was heard a meter away and the gurgling screams of Karl echoed into the night.

“Into the van!” I ordered. And we all piled into Dale’s cum-stained Astro. Inside, I frantically go from window to window looking for any signs of Penelope. “Did anyone see anything?!” I said.

“I didn’t see shit!” said Dale.

But Old Jim sat contemplatively in his passenger seat as cool as the night air and chewed on his half bent pipe. “The Devil is in the details,” he ominously spoke.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 18

I could barely hold a coffee cup to my lips due to trembling hands. There was a blanket draped over my shoulders as I recovered from intense shock from the night’s events. I sat only in my underwear while clothes dried from washing in the intense desert heat after I shat and pissed them. The Madam sat on the other end of the table with a disapproving expression. She held a cigarette between her fingertips.

“You are a stupid, stupid man,” she told me.

“True,” I said as I slowly sipped.

Old Jim finished packing tobacco into his half bent pipe and lit a match. With the tobacco alit, a plume of smoke exited his nostrils and he nodded his head. “You know, old folks used to say you should flush quarters down the toilet for good luck,” he said. “But when I clogged the toilet, the plumber found $276.50 in the drain. That was a good day.”

The rays of morning sun gleamed through the wavy vintage glass and lit up the saloon. It was an hour past sunup and patrons were shuffling out of the whore quarters and to the bar where Burl would serve beers like an oafish and silent brute. I was somewhat despondent. Jim, the Madam, and myself sat around the old square table quietly lost in our own worlds. My world, of course, was shattered by the appearance of a fiendish ghoul who guarded a mountain pass like Cerberus of Hades. I realized then that this was the reality of folks like Old Jim and the Madam; they were trapped in this barren basin as prisoners.

Randy stepped in through the front door of the saloon and approached the bar. He was wearing a bluish grey suit with a yellow tie and a straw boater hat and he looked like a depression era Bible salesman. Burl mixed what appeared to be a tequila sunrise and handed to Randy. We might’ve been friends for a long time. But today I felt like I might swallow a bullet. He sipped on the cocktail and slowly crept towards our table while he jingled change in his pocket. He placed his hand gently on my shoulder.

“Jim, how are ya?” he asked.

“Fair,” said Jim.

“Madam Joelle, I don’t suspect much has changed since last night?”

“That’s a fair assessment,” said the Madam.

“Young chili pepper,” Randy said, referring to me, “can I speak to you outside?”

I swallowed hard and followed him outside. We stood underneath the shotily put together awning that counted as a porch in the front while my blanket swayed in the wind. The skies were clear. Randy pointed to that far off mountain range I failed to traverse the night before. “Do you know how far away that range is?” he asks.

“No sir. I do not.”

“It’s 5.62 miles away,” he explained. “Far enough away to feel safe from life’s uncertainties but close enough to look out the window and wonder. Now what you saw last night might not be of this world. But the terror it brings is no different than what any man faces when he walks the streets. Every two minutes a man is shot dead in Los Angeles County and that’s your home. Just minutes away from where you eat and drink and make love is an unspeakable tragedy.”

“What are you getting at Randy?”

Randy takes a bigger drink from his cocktail and continues. “My point is, why tempt fate? You have all the niceties that a young chili pepper should kill for. You are surrounded by beautiful women from all around the world while unbridled from the laws of government. This is paradise compared to the godless land you used to dwell in. So why escape?”

“But it seems pretty godless out here.”

“Yet that’s where you’re wrong!” he exclaimed. He grew more animated with each breath. “Soon this whole lake bed will be filled with commerce and industry. People from miles around will come and find their wildest fantasies come to life. It will be a hedonistic dream!”

“That’s what Las Vegas is for,” I said.

“I’m trying to tell you that you’re on the frontier of a new world! I was halfway to Riverside County when I heard you tried to leave this place! I want you to be a part of this dream! That’s how important you are to me!”

Randy threw his arms around me with drink in hand and slightly spilling the cocktail onto my blanket. “Don’t leave,” he said. “You’re too important to this operation.”

“Randy, I just want to make sure I can leave whenever I want.”

Randy removed the boater hat and placed it to his chest. “I understand,” he said. “But that thing, out there,” he explained, referring to Penelope, “I just don’t know if she can permit that.”

He placed the hat back on his head and poured the nearly a full glass of tequila sunrises onto the dry ground and waltzed back to his Cadillac. As he opened the driver’s side door he shot me one last glance. “You’re not the first to try to escape,” he said, “and you probably won’t be the last. But those mountains are littered with the bones of curious kittens. I don’t feel the need to warn you again.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 17

In retrospect I shouldn’t have been so hasty in leaving the Candyland saloon. When traversing a large desert, even in nightfall, it behooves one to be prepared. Things like water and a flashlight would have been extraordinarily helpful while walking across this plain of death. But it was too late now. All I had was a Smith & Wesson revolver and the clothes on my back.

C’est la vie.

It wasn’t the time to lose my nerve. The canyon I entered appeared as a labyrinth of darkness and tribulation. It was silence. The only sound I heard was the thumping of my own chest. Out of caution I pressed forward with eyes wide open and the revolver in hand.

The dirt road reverted to its innate form and my senses attained an acuity not felt by any man since the days of Adam. This was the most primal of all fears; the fear of darkness and the unknown. I knew the road would return to its manmade form on the other side of the ridge. How far that was I did not know. I crept forward, always present of the unseen reality in front of me.

Occasionally there was a sound; a rock tumbling down a crevasse or the sporadic creeping of a wondering nocturn. Yet I maintained my composure. But a little further into the labyrinth there was an alien clicking. I didn’t want to get excited so I slowed my pace and scanned the gun in all directions. A little deeper and the foreign sound was more intense. I aimed the pistol in its direction and called out. “Who goes there?!” I shout.

For a few moments there was nothing. The clicking ceased. Then, like a silent wave, the mood of the canyon shifted. Any creeping thing that was left there stopped in its tracks. I heard the gnawing of flesh and bone and the growling from a hellish hound. “Show yourself!” I demand. Yet there was no reply from the shadows.

Whatever was out there needed a deterrence so I fire one shot into the darkness. From the brief flash of a Smith & Wesson, the canyon lit up and I saw what I had hoped to never see again; a rakish creature of grey flesh on all fours with blood dripping from the jaws. Though the long black hair concealed the face, small glowing eyes glared back at me.

“Jesus Christ!” I yelped. I fire several more shots in its direction and sprint back in the direction I came. I trampled over rocks both big and small which caused me to lose my footing. In a panic, I fire the remaining bullets in the creature’s direction. With the cylinder empty, I hurl the pistol at the galloping beast.

Before I knew it, I cleared the canyon and was back on the desert basin. I could see the faint glow of the Candyland Saloon several miles ahead but I wasn’t going to make it. Like Tom before me, I would be swallowed up by the desert and never be heard from again. Though adrenaline got me this far, it wasn’t enough. I started to soil my pants in preparation for death.

But right when hope was lost, the roaring of a turbo UTV came to my defense. Rifle shots rang out, striking the creature and it screamed out an ungodly sound. The blinding lights emitted from the UTV provided a brief glimpse of the monster’s true form: it was humanoid with large breasts hanging from its chest and long legs indicating its formidable size. It was Penelope.

The legend was true.

With the creature in retreat, the UTV pulls closer and I could see the driver. “Boy, you’re crazy!” Karl shouted. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I lean forward with hands on my knees to catch my breath and then I vomited. Karl laughed. “Goddamn your puke smells like shit!” he says.

I stand up straight and wipe my mouth. “Yeah,” I said. But I didn’t want him to know the truth: I had completely shit my britches.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 16

It was a frenzied evening of gratuitous sex in the Madam’s garish and glittering quarters. Sure I came. A lot, in fact, and perhaps prematurely. But the whole time I was distracted by my innermost concerns, specifically my monetary situation. When we finished, I laid there naked and sweaty on the soft pink and silk sheets waiting for the shoe to drop.

“So do I pay you?” I ask. “I’m not sure how this works.”

She sits up in bed, also naked, with her large bosoms exposed and she lights a cigarette. “This one’s on the house,” she explains. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had sex for pleasure. I just wish it lasted longer.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “So anyways, do I sleep here?”

She aggressively shakes her head. “Fuck no. You have a room downstairs.”

“With the rest of the whores? Won’t it get a little loud at night?”

“First off, they’re not whores. They’re paid companions. And secondly, you get used to it.”

“Alright,” I shrugged. “Do I at least get free booze at the bar?”

“No. That comes out of your paycheck.”

“What the hell?!” I exclaimed. “This is bullshit. Randy said…”

“Randy might own the place but this is my show,” the Madam interjected. “He’s barely here anyway. So I’m the ultimate authority at this joint! You got that BUSTER?!”

“Yeah yeah, I got that,” I said. I climbed out of bed, found my pants, and put them on.

“Are you going to your room?” she asks.

“Hell no,” I said as I buttoned up my ragged denim shirt. “This wasn’t the deal I made with Randy. I’m walking out of here, going to the nearest town, and I’m heading home.”

The Madam sat up in bed and grabbed my hand. “Don’t do that!” she said. “Penelope will get you!”

“Shit,” I said dismissively. “A naked woman wondering the desert? I might as well be in Palm Springs.”

“She’ll eat you!” the Madam shouted.

“Yeah okay,”’ I said and finished putting on my boots. I checked myself in the mirror one last time before departing the Madam’s quarters. “Thanks for the fuck,” I said, “thank god I didn’t cry this time,” and I slam the door shut.

I walk out to the creaky wooden balcony and downstairs into the saloon where the night’s revelry was dying down. Old Jim was still shuffling his cards when I approached. “Hey Jim,” I said, “mind if I have your Smith & Wesson?”

“What for?” he asks.

“I’m headed out of here,” I say. “I figured I’d follow the light pollution to find the nearest town but I might need some protection from the coyotes and whatnot. I’ll give the gun to Randy when I see him in LA.”

“Coyotes?” Jim said. “There ain’t no coyotes out there. Penelope is the only creature roaming that desert this time of night.”

“Whatever. I’m still gonna need some protection.”

Old Jim shakes his head and lays the pistol on the table. “You can have my Smith & Wesson,” he says, “but it ain’t gonna do you no good.”

I pick up the pistol and check the cylinder. “Thanks for the advice,” I tell him. I stuff the gun into the back of my pants and tip my hat. “Been nice knowing ya Jim.” I proceed to the front of the saloon and push open the door into the silent darkness.

The dirt road leading to the Candyland compound extended beyond the dry basin and into the mountain range beyond. It was plain to see in daylight but near invisible at night. I had to rely on the glow of city lights from the other side of the range for guidance. The moon was nowhere in sight and the stars glittered like pixie dust on a black canvas. The land, I thought, possessed a serenity of a surreal dream but the uneasiness of a concealed graveyard. I proceed a few miles down the dirt road. What little wildlife remained in these parts cried out like ghosts in the night. Intellectually I knew the legend of Penelope was false, but walking into this dark chasm I understood the fear.

It was maybe five miles into the trek that I reached a valley in this unnamed range. The light flutter on the horizon no longer guided me and the darkness swarmed me like a minacious cloud. Not even the sounds of critters would accompany me into this miscreated canyon. Here nature seemingly stopped; the laws of sense and possibility broke down. Only the rules of an accursed imagination seemed germane to these parts.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 15

The man called Karl and I, we incinerated the corpse of Tom by burning his body and grinding the bones and we scattered his ashes across the desert basin. Whoever this Tom might’ve been, where he came from and who his family was would forever be lost to the sands of time. We found no wallet on his person. Believe me, we looked. What they don’t tell you is that it takes a long time to burn a body. If Tom was shot around noon, we didn’t return to the Candyland compound till after sundown.

When we did get back, Karl took out a cigarette and looked towards the blueish hues hovering over the horizon. “Another city boy gets swallowed up by the desert,” he chuckled. “Oh well. I guess it’ll happen to all of us sooner or later.”

I lower the canteen from my lips and shot him a glance. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“Say what now?” he asks after taking a drag.

“What do you mean ‘we all get swallowed by the desert’?” I repeat.

“Oh nothing,” Karl says, waving away smoke. “Just a figure of speech. C’mon, Old Jim probably wants to play cards.”

We enter through the back door of the Candyland bar where all the bits of skull and brain matter were washed away and the place had resumed its usual revelry. Old Jim hadn’t moved from the place where we left him. The Smith and Wesson still laid on the table and he was fumbling around with a stack of cards. Karl sat on one end of the square table and I on the other. “It didn’t take you boys long,” Old Jim says.

“Nah,” Karl said. “This new boy here is a natural.”

Old Jim looks at me with his hard but gentle grey eyes. “So you buried a body before?” he asks me.

“Uh, well…”

Before I could answer, the Madam approached from behind me and rubbed my shoulders. “Can I get you boys a whiskey?” she asks.

“I’ll take a shot of Dickle,” Karl says, grinning his yellowed teeth.

I reach across my body to place my hand on top of hers. “I’ll just take a Miller High Life,” I say.

“Sorry sweetheart,” the Madam says, “all we have is Keystone.”

I sigh. “Very well,” I tell her.

She leaves to gather our drinks and Old Jim shuffles the playing cards. “What do you boys say? Texas Hold em? Five Card Draw?” he asks.

“How bout regular ol poker?” I say.

Old Jim shrugs and deals out the cards. I look at my hand; some 8s, a king, an ace or some bullshit. The Madam returns and lays out our drinks on the table. “Mind if I join you boys?” she asks. No one objects.

I sip on my piss water and begin studying Old Jim. Who the fuck was this old fart? Why would anyone in their golden years want to spend time in this shithole? I figured it didn’t hurt to ask. “So Jim,” I say, “are you retired?”

“One thing you should know, is that a man never retires,” he says, briefly looking up from his hand.

“Do you have family?”

“No.”

“Do you live nearby?”

“No.”

“Do you enjoy the company of whores?”

“My peckers been dead for 20 years.”

“Then what draws you to this place?”

The Madam and Karl sit silently while Jim gathers his thoughts. His hands were trembling while he tried to play his hand. “I just like to play poker,” he says.

“Bullshit,” I say throwing down my cards. “None of us know how to play poker. What aren’t you people telling me?!”

The awkward stillness of the table clued me into the taboo that I broached. The Madam pursed her lips. Karl looks over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening and he leans in. “There are things out there that go against god,” he whispers.

“Yeah I know,” I say, “I’m from North Hollywood. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“You don’t understand,” Karl reiterates. “There are things – if we can call them that – that seem to be of Satan himself. The natives have feared this place for generations. People disappear out there. That’s why we don’t go out at night.”

“Her name is Penelope,” Old Jim says. The Madam shuddered at the very name.

“Penelope?” I ask. “Is she one of the prostitutes?”

“No,” Karl says. Then he gives me a deathly stare. “She’s possibly the devil herself. She’s seven feet tall; naked as the day she was born. She waits, out there, under the cover of night waiting to devour the body of an unsuspecting soul. Any man who has dared to escape this place has met her fate.”

He had to of been joking I thought. But judging by the solemn faces looking down at the table it was clear this was no laughing matter. “You people are crazy,” I say. “This is probably a bullshit rumor that Randy created to scare his trafficked victims away from escaping.”

“Oh yeah?” Karl said. “Well if you’re so brave, then maybe you should go venture out into that desert night.”

“You want me to go right now?” I say, calling out his bluff. As I stand up, the Madam reaches out and tugs my shirt. “Sit down,” she ordered, “this is foolish!”

“I agree,” I say. “A grown ass man believing in a naked monster is foolish!”

“No! You’re being foolish!” she says.

“Me?”

“Yes! You’ll be eaten alive!”

I was stunned speechless at the level of stupidity at this table. I sit there and rub my face. Karl gets up to sit at the bar and Old Jim goes back to shuffling his cards. As I resume sipping on my piss water, the Madam takes me by the hand. “I know all of this sounds preposterous,” she said, “but it’s true. All of it. There’s no sense in trying to leave this place. You’re perfectly safe here.”

“Madam Joelle,” I said, “I watched a man sitting in this chair get his head blown off today.”

TO BE CONTINUED…