Desolate The Complete Trilogy

22



“Carl, you startled me,” said Liz. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“What are you still doing up? I figured you’d be tucked in with your husband.”

“Oh, just finishing up some work. I was actually just heading off to bed now.” She got up from her chair and offered Carl a forced smile. He stared back at her blankly and didn’t move from the doorway. “I suppose I could ask you the same thing. Aren’t you just exhausted?”

“I’m okay,” he replied quietly. “I’m still a bit keyed up, I guess it must be the coffee. I was hoping the two of us could have a little chat.”

Liz took a step back and leaned against the desk. “I’d love to talk, but let’s do it over breakfast if you wouldn’t mind. I’m pretty beat.”

To Liz’s relief, Carl moved from the doorway and walked over to the bulletin board on the wall. He looked at the assortment of snapshots, mostly of her and Phillip on their adventures. “Oh, I won’t keep you but a few minutes,” he said. “It’s been a while since I talked to a pretty lady. You understand, right? Cooped up with all those men, a fellow can feel pretty lonely, you know?”

Liz took a step towards the door and Carl matched her, once again blocking the door. “You must feel a little cooped up yourself, I imagine.”

“No, I’m fine,” she snapped. “Good night, Carl.” She lowered her head and walked forward, praying that he would step aside and let her pass. He didn’t budge and she stopped abruptly before bumping into him. He reached to grab her arm and Liz flinched, trying to pull it away. She wasn’t quite fast enough and he clamped onto her forearm with his massive hand.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!”

He pushed her back into the wall and tried to put his other hand over her mouth as she struggled. She could smell his sour breath and dirty hair.

She screamed out her husband’s name before he clamped his hand over her mouth and nose, muffling her screaming. Liz opened her mouth and found the fleshy part of Carl’s hand. She bit down hard and tasted blood.

“Motherf*cking bitch!” Carl threw her to the floor. Liz called for her husband again. “Shut the f*ck up.” He kicked her in the stomach.

Phillip appeared in the doorway, a look of panic and confusion on his face, as he attempted to finish putting on his robe. He saw Liz on the floor and went for her.

Carl pulled the gun from his belt and jammed the muzzle into Philip’s chest before he could reach Liz. “Not so fast, little man.” Carl gave him a push backwards. Phillip stumbled and fell back onto the desktop behind him.

Carl kept the Glock trained on his face. “My buddy and I will be out of your hair soon enough, but first me and the little lady here are going to have some fun. Now get the f*ck out of here unless you want to be a widower in about five seconds.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Phillip stammered. “Please. Money! We have some cash. Credit cards. Take whatever you want, just don’t...”

“I ain’t interested in your money! Now I’m not going to tell you again. Get out.”

Liz let out an ear-piercing scream and jumped from the floor. She attempted to smash the gun out of Carl’s hand by bringing both fists down on his arm. Phillip took the opportunity and also lunged at Carl. He lost his balance and all three of them crashed to the floor. Carl tried to block Liz’s frantic blows with one hand while trying to hold onto the gun with his other hand as Phillip tried to wrestle it away.

Carl’s grip on the gun loosened as Phillip desperately tried to pry it from his fingers. Liz clawed at his face and his vision was blurred from blood and sweat that ran into his eyes. Just as Carl feared that he might let go, his index finger found the trigger and he yanked it. The Glock recoiled. He felt Phillip let go of the gun and Liz stopped hitting him.