Pretty Much Invincible Page 2

  “Fuck!” the cannibal screamed.

  Standing over the cannibal, Shane realized that the rest of the group would soon be here. He aimed the gun at the young man’s head—it was a struggle to keep his hand steady.

  “Don’t kill me! Please,” the young cannibal begged.

  Sally came out from under the bed, backpack in hand. “Let’s go, Dad!”

  Shane did not move.

  “Dad!” Sally said, looking into her father’s fearful eyes. “Come on!”

  Voices, outside. Shane had to act—now. He pulled the trigger, the top of the cannibal’s head exploded. Sally quickly turned and covered her eyes.

  What now? Shane wondered. What the hell were they going to do now? Fight off the rest of the gang? For the moment, all Shane could do was stare at the corpse in front of him.

  The gang ran into the house through the front door and Shane snapped out of his trance. “Sally! Back under the bed!” he yelled, before running to the top of the stairs. Shit, shit, shit! He fired two shots and the gang members ran for cover.

  Shane pressed his back against the wall, reached inside his jacket, and took out more bullets. With a shaking hand, he reloaded the revolver. “Get the fuck out!” he yelled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “G-Get out, or I’ll k-kill you all!”

  We. He should have said, We will kill you all. He should have made it seem as if there were a group.

  The big man with the bushy beard, the leader, was standing in the living room, repeatedly tapping his sawn-off shotgun against his shoulder. “Is... is Bobby dead?” he asked hesitantly.

  An idea came to Shane. “N-No. He’s just w-wounded. If you leave now... I promise I’ll let him go.”

  The gang leader looked up at the ceiling, anger in his eyes. “I wanna hear Bobby say something.”

  Shane took a few deep breaths. “No! Do as I fucking say or...”

  “Bobby?” the leader yelled. “You OK, Bobby?”

  From under the bed, Sally glanced at the dead body. He could not have been much older than twenty years old.

  “Get the fuck out or your friend is dead!” Shane roared.

  The leader stroked his beard and looked down at his black, leather boots. “I think you’re full of shit, mister. I think you killed Bobby!” He clenched his fist in anger. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “N-No,” Shane replied unconvincingly.

  The leader squeezed his eyes shut. “Bobby,” he whispered to himself. “Boys?” he yelled as his eyes shot open.

  “Yeah?” the rest of the gang replied from the kitchen.

  “This motherfucker killed Bobby. Are you ready to unleash hell?”

  “Yes we are!” they all replied in unison.

  Less than a week, Shane thought to himself. We managed to survive, without our group, for less than a goddamn week.

  Do not just give up. Fight. Maybe Shane could take them all out. How many? Four, wasn’t it? Even if Shane died in the battle, maybe he could take them all out with him and save Sally. Then, he thought of Sally wandering the wasteland alone. She would not last long by herself. Another option came to mind. Shane held up the revolver and stared at it as he considered...

  Don’t you fucking dare think that, he heard Maria say in his head.

  End Sally’s life and then his own. It was either that or risk these maniacs getting their hands on them. He imagined being cut up, cooked, and eaten. He imagined Sally—

  Fuck no! he thought as he shook his head.

  Maybe, just maybe, if he begged them, they would at least let Sally go. No, you fool, they would not let her go, they would cut her up and—

  Fuck!

  “Bobby was so young,” the gang leader said sorrowfully.

  “I...” Shane began. No. There was no point in reasoning with these deranged monsters.

  Six bullets in the gun, three in his jacket pocket. Shane had made up his mind, he was going to try and take them all out.

  “We’re coming for you, stranger!” the leader said furiously.

  Tears came from Shane’s eyes. Don’t cry, Bruce would have said. Be a man. Toughen up. You will not survive long in a world like this if you do not toughen up.

  Shut up, Bruce!

  Shane peered around the corner, to see if he could spot anyone. A sudden shotgun blast—a section of the wall exploded! Shane flinched and dropped his gun. Shit! He could hear someone storming up the steps as he went to retrieve his revolver. Just as Shane’s fingertips reached the gun, a boot hit his face. He lost consciousness.

  Sally resisted the urge to call out for her father. Was he alive or dead? Just be quiet, little mouse, or the big cats will get you. Tiny, scared mouse. “Find Bobby,” she heard the leader say. Father—dead or alive? Sally had no idea. She listened out, hoping to hear her dad say something. Did they just hurt him or did they kill him? Then, Sally saw black boots—a cannibal had entered the room. Covering her mouth with her trembling hands, Sally resisted the urge to cough. No, no! God, no! Not now! Not without Dad (who was surely dead) to protect her. She resisted and resisted until she could not resist any longer. Sally coughed—the cannibal dropped to his knees and spotted the little girl (little mouse) hiding under the bed.

  Big, bad cat was going to eat the little mouse.

  ---

  Shane regained consciousness as his back hit the grass. Everything was blurry. Slowly, he sat up and rubbed his aching head. What happened? As his eyes focused, he recalled the last few moments before everything had gone black. Dropping the gun. Boot in the face. Oh fuck! Three gang members stood over Shane, two with baseball bats and one with a sawn-off shotgun. Bobby was dead... they wanted blood. Now, Shane could see everything clearly. Nice and clear—oh, dear. Fuck!

  “Sally!” Shane screamed in terror. “S-Sally!”

  The gang members just stared silently.

  Shane got to his knees. “Please, where is my little girl? Is... is...?”

  “She’s right here,” the gang leader said as he stepped out of the house, a tight grip on Sally’s scrawny arm. He marched over to Shane and put the shotgun to Sally’s temple. “You killed Bobby.”

  Sally squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered, “Daddy...”

  Trembling, Shane pressed his hands together. “I’m begging you, please don’t hurt my girl!”

  The leader laughed out loud. “You idiot. You know who we are, yes?”

  “Y-Yes.”

  “Then you know your death is inevitable.” He glanced at the girl. “You’re both going to die. Don’t beg... it’s pathetic.”

  Sobbing, Shane covered his face with his hands. Oh, God! Oh, God, help us!

  “Because you killed Bobby, I’m gonna maybe throw in some extra punishment,” the leader said, a grin from ear to ear. “Something extra before we cut you up and eat you.” He licked his lips.

  That’s it, Shane, you couldn’t even last a full week. You are useless. Pathetic dog! Not a real man. Weak! Look at you, on your knees begging. Bark and lick their boots. Ha! Food for the cannibals.

  Yo! What’s for dinner today?

  Some useless prick called Shane Rogers.

  CHAPTER 3

  It was pointless. There was nothing Sally could do only accept her fate. The bad guys had won. They had won because this world was broken. This world was now evil. Good guys, good guys like Bruce, did not win in this world. The world belonged to villains.

  Sally’s face was wet with tears. This was it, the end. Goodbye, little mouse. She was chained to a table in what used to be a classroom, waiting for—

  Someone entered the room. Sally tilted her head to get a look. It was a fat man, in his late forties, wearing a bloody apron—meat cleaver in his hand. When Sally spotted the blade, she immediately looked away and screamed, “Daddy, help me!”

  For all she knew, her father was already dead. She couldn’t help but imagine a dinner plate with her dad’s head on it. No!

  Sally desperately thrashed around on the table screaming, “No! No, no!”
>
  Remember, silly, it is pointless to struggle.

  The man approached Sally and said, “Hello, little one. My name is Monty.” A warm smile appeared on his chubby face. “You know, I used to have a little girl just like you.”

  A warm smile and a friendly tone, yet he was about to cut her up into little pieces.

  “Will you please let me go?” Sally asked, sobbing.

  Monty shook his head. “I cannot.” He seemed to have genuine guilt in his eyes. “This is the world we live in now.” His mind began to wander. “It’ll all end soon, though, I’m sure of it. Mankind is rapidly approaching the end.” He focused on Sally once more. “But, we must enjoy what little time is left. Take comfort in the fact that your meat will help people survive a little longer. They will enjoy consuming you.”

  Sally rapidly shook her head, hoping she would wake up from this terrible nightmare. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! She went into a coughing fit, her face turned bright red.

  When the coughing stopped, Sally cried, “Let me go!”

  “Silence,” Monty said calmly. “I’m going to start with your right arm.” He held up the meat cleaver. “Please... look away, child.”

  Sally did just that. “No! No!”

  Monty swiftly brought down the blade. His eyes widened as the meat cleaver bounced off the little girl’s arm—she was unharmed.

  “No!” Sally screeched. She had felt the impact, but there was no pain. She looked at her arm, then at Monty’s perplexed face. What had happened?

  Examining the blade, Monty said, “What the fu...?”

  Without warning, Monty hacked at Sally’s bony arm once more. She hadn’t had time to look away, she had seen the meat cleaver hit her arm and do no damage. Extraordinary. Maybe this was a dream after all. Monty held the blade up high with a wild look in his eyes. This time he would bury the blade in the girl’s skull. As he brought down the meat cleaver, Sally reflexively threw her hands up to protect herself. The meat cleaver struck her forearm and bounced right off. How?

  Then, Sally realized that she had broken the rusty chains. She remained on the table, in a daze. This did not feel like a dream. This felt quite real.

  Monty was speechless—he took a few steps back, staring at his meat cleaver. He could not make sense of it all.

  Sally snapped out of her daze and hopped off the table. She stared at her hands and wiggled her fingers. There was something, she could feel it—something inside herself. Something... powerful.

  “What the fuck are you?” Monty yelled. He sprinted at the girl with the meat cleaver held up over his head. Sally quickly raised her hands, and once again the blade just bounced off her as if it were made of rubber. She then shoved Monty back—he flew across the room, hitting the far wall. Big, fat Monty was out cold.

  What in God’s name was happening to her? There was no time to think about it—Sally ran to the classroom door, slowly opened it, and peered out. Hallway seemed clear. Dad. Where the hell could her dad be? So many rooms and God knew how many cannibals. There was no guarantee he was still alive, but she had to be sure. Then what? Search every inch of the school? Yes, if necessary.

  Sally made her way down the hallway (obscene graffiti everywhere), peering in door after door. Nothing so far except empty rooms. As she continued down the hallway, Sally felt something hit the back of her head. She paused, rubbed her head, and slowly turned. A bewildered-looking man stood over her with half a baseball bat in his hands. The other half of the bat, Sally soon realized, was on the floor. He had struck her, she concluded, with the bat and it had broken in half. Baseball bats, meat cleavers... useless against Sally.

  Sally punched the tall, skinny cannibal in the torso and she heard ribs cracking. The force of the punch sent the man flying down the hallway—he landed hard on the floor and then slid for a moment.

  Wow! Sally couldn’t help but smile. The little mouse now packed one hell of a punch! Power! She could feel the power inside her!

  As she turned, she spotted another gang member aiming a rifle at her. This gang member could not believe what he had just witnessed. He fired a shot, hitting Sally in the chest. The force of the bullet knocked the girl off her feet, but there was no pain. There was no blood. Sitting up, Sally felt her chest—her eyes wide in disbelief. Baseball bats, meat cleavers, even bullets... all useless. Unbelievable! Jumping to her feet, Sally locked eyes with the gunman. She ran at him as fast as she could. Another gunshot—Sally flinched as the bullet hit her shoulder and bounced right off. She kept running—unnaturally fast. Before the gunman could fire once more, Sally lunged and tackled him to the ground. The cannibal hit his head off the floor—he was out cold.

  Sally dismounted the unconscious cannibal as she heard numerous people running in her direction. She dashed into the nearest classroom and luckily it was empty. Although, why was she hiding? It seemed quite clear that, for some bizarre reason, nothing could hurt her. Maybe it would be best not to push her luck. But... this power. Surely she could beat them all with ease. She could not just hide away, Sally had to find her father—fast.

  Please be alive!

  The power within the girl seemed to speak to her. It told her she could do this. She did not need to be a scared, little mouse. Not anymore! Beat them. Beat them all!

  With confidence, Sally exited the classroom. No more little mouse! She was soon spotted by a group of five cannibals, most of them carried guns. Guns were not going to do them any good. Sally dashed toward the group with fearlessness in her eyes. Bullet after bullet ricocheted off of Sally’s impenetrable skin. No pain—even the headshot was nothing. When Sally reached the group of men, she punched and kicked until they were all unconscious. Easy.

  The guns should be destroyed, she thought. Sally stomped on all of the guns, like a child throwing a temper tantrum. The guns had been smashed to pieces.

  Dad. Go find Dad. Hurry.

  Sally continued searching room after room. Six rooms, all empty. It was in the seventh room—that is where she finally found her father. “Dad!” she yelled, approaching Shane.

  He was chained to a table, just as she had been. “Sally!” Shane yelled, wide-eyed.

  Eyeing the chains, Sally said, “We’re getting out of here. I’m gonna get us out.”

  “Sally, hurry, you need to find something to—” Before Shane could finish his sentence, Sally pulled the chains apart with ease. How was that possible? Sitting up, Shane said, “How the hell did you just do that?”

  Sally smiled proudly. “I’m like a superhero!”

  “What?”

  “I’m really strong now. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m as strong as the heroes in the comic books! And they can’t hurt me—the cannibals. Their bats, blades, even bullets... all useless against me!”

  “Sally... I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Turning to face the wall, Sally said, “Here, let me show you.” She held up her arm as if she were about to throw a baseball, and then swung her fist—smashing a hole in the wall. Too easy.

  With his eyes as wide as they could go, Shane said, “S-Sally... how the fuck did you d-do that?”

  Sally did not approve of her father’s bad language, she never had. “Language, Dad.”

  “Sorry,” Shane whispered, still staring, as if in a trance, at the hole in the wall.

  No time to waste. Sally grabbed her father’s wrist and lead him through the hole, into another empty classroom. “Come on!” Again she punched a hole in a wall—she was going to keep doing so until they were outside.

  This was unbelievable. Shane had so many questions going through his mind, but he had to put them aside for the time being.

  After the fourth wall was smashed, Sally and her father entered a room full of people—other captives—ten or so, chained up on the floor. Men, women... children as young as five, maybe. “We need to free them,” Sally said, horrified.

  “No, Sally!” Shane said firmly. “There’s no time. We need to keep moving!”
/>   “We can’t leave them. It won’t take me long.”

  “I’m sorry. We need to get out of here before they find us.”

  “But I’ll beat them all. They can’t hurt me.”

  Shane shook his head. “But they can hurt me.” He approached the next wall. “Come on!” he demanded. “Smash it!”

  Sally looked around at all the prisoners, every one of them begging for help. Then, she heard her father shout, “Move it!” She obeyed.

  All these poor people!

  Sally demolished another two walls before seeing the school parking lot. Shane wondered if he would wake up from all this in a moment. As soon as they stepped outside the building, would he wake up? Would he wake up to find himself still chained to a table? Stop thinking! Move!

  “Let’s go!” Shane said, his heart racing.

  They sprinted toward the nearest vehicle and thankfully it was unlocked. They quickly entered the car. Shane, in his mind, thanked Bruce for showing him how to hotwire a car.

  “Wait!” Sally yelled before Shane could start the car. She glanced at her perplexed father and then exited the vehicle. “I have to go back. I have to save them! You get down low. Hide. I’ll be back soon!”

  Before he could protest, his daughter was gone. Such speed.

  Angry at his child’s disobedience, Shane grunted, “Fuck!” He then lowered himself, keeping out of sight.

  That’s it, Shane, hide. Just sit there and hide as the little girl does all the work. Weak. Pathetic.

  Back in the school, Sally broke all of the chains as fast as she could—everyone amazed by her unnatural strength.

  “Come on! Run! Go!” Sally yelled, pointing to the hole in the wall.

  They did not think twice—all of the prisoners ran free.

  Then, Sally whipped her head around as she heard a man roar, “No!” It was the cannibal leader coming through the hole in the other wall. Two henchmen stood either side of him, both armed with shotguns. The leader, completely baffled by the holes in the walls, approached the little girl. He glared at her. She glared right back.

  “I’m not afraid of you, asshole!” Sally said. She then reminded herself to watch her language—even if the words had been directed toward a psycho cannibal.