Chapter Text
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"Knock me out, smash out my brains if I take a chair and start to talk shit." (Radiohead, Airbag/How Am I Driving EP)
I come back to consciousness in a chair. The place I’m in smells like dog feet and ass. Where the hell am I?? I think, looking up to see a ridiculously tall man with long ginger hair and dark sunglasses.
“Gah, what the hell are you?!” I yelp, struggling against the rope that ties me to the chair. The strange man stares at me, or at least I think he is. I can’t tell where he’s looking at with those glasses. Suddenly, crack! White hot pain flashing across my vision, my ears are ringing, and ouch, that really hurt, man!!!
“Don’t.” He says simply. He steps into the light and he looks terrifying.
“Who the hell are you and what the absolute fuck is your problem, man?!” I shout, straining against my confines harder. The man doesn’t answer.
“My name is Dude. Well, everyone calls me that, but-” He decides that I don’t need to know that FOR SOME REASON. He cuts himself off and knocks me out again.
—
Consciousness comes back slower this time around. My head fucking hurts and I’m still in this stank ass place!!! “Yo! Untie me, you crazy gorilla!!!" I look around, and he’s still here, staring.
“Look, man. You gotta stop doing that. My head hurts really bad now.” I groan. “Do you, like, get off to knocking people out or something??”
The man, apparently called Dude, blushes furiously and scowls at me. “I would never! ‘Getting off to things’ is a sin!”
“Oh, I didn’t think the man who knocks out people and ties them up in strange places would be religious. Also, it stinks in here. Isn’t one of your little rules that ‘cleanliness is next to Godliness’??”
He stiffens up and raises his shotgun again. “Don’t.” He repeats.
“Is that literally all you say? Are you one of those shy people?”
“Stop talking!” He snaps.
“Okay, okay, Geez man.” I grumble, trying to wiggle out of the chair. “Can you untie me at least??”
“You should stop talking. I…I can be really dangerous, you know.” Dude warns nervously.
My mind drifted back to how this disaster even started. It was a Tuesday shift at my job, Hooters. Yes, yes, say what you want, but I get paid wonderfully. The lunch rush was slowing down, and I was just trying to survive all of the drunk, handsy patrons. It’s three PM. Isn’t it too early for you guys to get blackout drunk?? I thought, side-eying a man yelling at the television. Then, that man walked in. That man. Someone had already sat him down, and I only had two other customers. I went to take his order.
“Hiya, Welcome to Hooters! My name is-”
He rudely interrupted me and pointed to my outfit.
“W-where…where is the rest of it?” He had stammered, his face the color of a tomato.
“The rest of what? Oh, my socks?” I asked, very confused.
“Your shirt! Your shorts!!” He barked. “Why are you dressed like this at work?!”
“Do you not see the other girls dressed like this??”
“This. Place. Looks. Like. A STRIP CLUB!!” He shouts, he had gained some attention from some other waitresses. I remember dropping my pen and bending over to grab it, thinking he was one of those Christian weirdos that push it on other people. Instead I saw a shadow—a massive, man-shaped shadow—loom over me. I heard a weirdly sassy “Excuse me, sister.” And then everything went black.
Back in the nasty place, I glare at him. “YOU KIDNAPPED ME BECAUSE OF A UNIFORM?!?!?” I bellow, thrashing against the rope. “I’ll kill you, you Terminator WANNABE!!!”
The Dude stiffens, clutching his shotgun. “I am not a Terminator knockoff! You were dressed like... Like a harlot! They had you guys dressed like the devil’s concubines!"
I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. The man squirms. “Your eyes are unsettling! Stop it!” He reaches out to touch me and I bite him. “OW! Hey that hurt, you- you-!!! Um, what am I supposed to call you now?”
“My name is none of your business!” I bark.
He decides that he doesn't want to hear me talk anymore and he turns away. He doesn’t look upset about the bite mark. He just stares at it in surprise. “I’m gonna go smoke.” The man says wearily, leaning his shotgun against the counter.
“Hey, man. Have you ever tried lean? I heard it’s good.” I wiggle my eyebrows, hoping that he unties me so that I can run away.
“Cough medicine and sprite? That’s for punks. I’d rather try to overdose on Benadryl.” He scoffs, going to a cabinet and opening it.
“Naw Dude, it’s reeeal good! Hmm, Benadryl made me real tired when I last tried it though.”
“Well, how many did you take?” He asks. The cabinet he opened was full of just...drugs. Cough syrup, weed, pre-rolled blunts, cocaine, and even crystal meth?! Is this bitch a drug dealer or something???
“Uhm, I took 7. But why do you have all those drugs?” I ask, pretending to be very intrigued.
“You didn’t take enough, you have to like, take 15-20. I like trying out new things, I guess.” He mutters, grabbing two blunts.
“Look, man, If we’re gonna hang out, you have to untie me. I can’t exactly join in if I’m tied up like this.”
“Fine. Just don’t yell.” Dude finally caves and unties me. I jump up and snatch the blunt from him, taking a huge hit and coughing. “Yuck, this shit is nasty as hell…”
“It’s weed.” He says like it was obvious, while digging through the drug cabinet. “Hey, how old are you anyways?”
While he was preoccupied with the shelves, the shotgun he had used before to hit me was leaning against the counter. Without a second thought, I grab it by its barrel and swing. The heavy wood part connected with the back of Dude’s head.
He grunted, stumbling forward, but he didn’t fall down. Before I could hit him again, he spun around and snatched the gun back.
“Oww, I thought you wanted to get high, man! You didn’t have to hit me!!”
“You’re a pervert! Taking hostage of a poor person minding their own business!” I snarl, kicking him in the ribs.
Dude blinks at them, looking like a kicked puppy. “But...I shared my stash with you! I thought we were cool.” His expression hardened as he stood up, towering over me. “I can’t trust you to be untied, so you’re gonna be locked in my room.”
Before I could run away, he hauled me over his shoulder. I bite his neck, trying to get him to let me go. The man freezes.
“Uhm, maybe don’t do that again...I-it feels weird.” He stutters, his face and neck completely red. He shoulders his way into his bedroom and tosses me onto it. As soon as I hit the bed, I sit up and swipe my fingernails across his cheek. Dude stumbles back, dark irritation simmering behind his eyes. “Look, I’m trying to save you from a life of degeneracy and you’re- you’re just being unnecessarily mean to me!” He raises his voice, binding my legs and arms to the bed with...handcuffs.
“You’re the degenerate! Why do you have me tied up in this position?? Next thing I know, you’re gonna tell me to lie down with my ass up in the air…”
“No I would not! I mean, not if you didn’t want me to-” He mumbles that last part to himself before snapping a picture of me tied up.
“What the hell are you doing?! I’m going to kill you!”
“See what I mean? You’re just rude!”
The next few hours are a blur of flashes from a camera and muttered compliments from Dude. I must’ve drifted off to a horrible, uncomfortable sleep, because when I jerk awake, the sun is barely rising. I realize that I’m still in this nightmare house, and I break down in tears. I can’t even feel angry anymore. I’m working a dead end job, I’m probably fired from said dead end job, I’m tired of this smell, and I’m probably going to stay here for the rest of my life. I look at the wall through tearful eyes, it’s filled with pictures of me passed out. I’m stuck in a trailer with a maniac.
“Hey! I scream, my voice dry and raspy. “I’m awake now, and you’re gonna regret everything!!!” The door creaks open, and Dude peaks in. “You’re still feisty. I thought I had broken your spirits, but no. I brought you some food, though. A chicken sandwich.” He says, waving it in front of my face. “Come on, Little Songbird. Eat. You know you wannaaaa. . .!” He teases, but the smirk on his face quickly falls as I bite him.
“Stop doing that!! I was going to uncuff you, but now I’m not!”
“Okay?! Like, does it really look like I give a fuck?! I mean, I can care less about your ashy ass burger. That shit ain’t even fuckin’ real meat!”
“You talk too much for my liking.” He sighs. I’m about to retort to that when I suddenly start feeling very hungry and I reluctantly start eating the burger out of his hands.
“Hm, there we go.” He coos at me. I wanted to spit the food in his face, but I was so, so, so hungry! This meat tastes funky… I think. It tastes like pennies. After a few minutes, I finished the burger. My heart is beating really fast and my mouth is super dry.
“What… What the hell did you do… to me??”
“Oh nothing, just a little bit of...Actually, it doesn’t matter. Have fun with your hallucinations, babe!” He says cheerfully, walking out with an evil smirk.
Hallucinations? What the fuck is he on…I’m just really sleepy right now.
I wake up with a start, my head pounding. My mouth feels like I’ve been chewing on cotton. I had a horrible dream. Or was it? The pictures were on the wall, laughing at me.
The door creaks open, letting a beam of light that felt like I was staring at the sun. I try to sit up, only to feel the cold bite of metal. Right. I’m still handcuffed. Still in the shitty ass trailer. The Dude is staring at me, holding a damp washcloth.
“If you don’t let me out, I’m going to disembowel you and feed it to you!” I shout, straining against the cuffs. He ignores me and rolls his eyes. The man starts wiping my sweaty face.
“So how was the trip? You looked like a crackhead.” He says smugly,
“Untie me.” I rasp, my voice shaking with fury and genuine fear. “If you’re such a big follower of Christ, then let me go. Kidnapping is a sin, man.”
He freezes, the washcloth he was holding was hovering over my skin.
“‘He who strays from the path of understanding will rest in the assembly of the dead.’ Proverbs 21:16. Don’t you see, Little Bird? You’re being foolish! You’re the only normal person in this town, and you’re choosing the path of the devil!!!!” He cries, grabbing my shoulders. He looks absolutely insane.
“Are you going to kill me now?” I gasp, staring at him in fear.
“Kill you?” He shakes his head, still looking upset. “No. We’re going to go cleanse the streets.”
“Cleanse it from what?”
“From all the infected people, and you’re gonna help me.” He deadpans, going outside to grab his shotgun. “Come on.”
I scramble off of the bed, following him. “Here.” He says simply and hands me a pistol.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait! Are we going to kill them?!”
“Yes, they are infected.” He says as he leads me out into the blinding Arizona sun. To anyone else, it was a quiet Friday afternoon, but to me, it was like being captured like a bird.
“Look,” he points to a mailman walking down the sidewalk. “There’s an infection right there. Kill him.”
“He looks normal!” I cry out, but he just tightens his grip on my shoulder.
“That’s exactly what he wants you to think,” He stares at me, and it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. “Help me save the world.”
“No, I’m not going to!”
“Do it now, Little Bird, or I’ll kill you right here.” He growls, pointing the shotgun to my head.
“Okay, fine! Just...don’t hurt me!” I sob out, tears are now flowing out of my eyes. I’m terrified. I shoot the man in the head, killing him instantly.
The gunshot was deafening, a physical punch that made my whole body tremble. I watched the man crumple to the concrete ground.
“Good, good…” He coos, rubbing my back. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he moves closer, his chest pressing against my back as he takes the gun from my trembling hands.
“I-I killed him… he’s dead.”
“He was already gone, Little Bird. Nothing but a vessel for the plague. You’re mine now.” His voice is weirdly clear now, not his usual nervous stutter. He began to lead me back towards his trailer. I look back at the dead husk of the mailman, a red stain of blood on the dry desert dirt. The smell of copper and rotting meat hit me again, but this time, it felt like a shroud. I was shaking so hard that my teeth were chattering. The image of the mailman’s head snapping back looping in my vision made me sick to my stomach.
“Sit.” He commands, guiding me to the unmade bed I was tied to earlier this morning. I collapse onto the mattress, my legs feeling like jelly. I look at my hands, the hands that just took a life.
“You did great, Songbird. You didn’t defy me.” He smiles at me for the first time. It doesn’t look right.
“That’s because you had a gun pointed to my head!” I shout, shoving him away from me.
His smile falls and he pulls something out of his pocket. It’s a velvet box. Dude kneels between my legs and looks up at me. He opens the box to show a gold locket that looked over 50 years old.
“I found it yesterday when you were sleeping.” He murmurs, reaching out to click the cold metal around my neck..
“This is a token of the start of our new life. We could be heroes, just us!” He leans in, his head resting against mine.
“But, I don’t want to kill innocent people. I just want to go home!” I whisper, pulling away.
“You’re straying away from fate, Little bird! Can’t you see?? Unless…” He pauses and squints at me. “Are you infected too??” He gasps, pulling away. Dude rushes out of the room and comes back with disinfectant wipes and a wet rag.
“No I’m not!” I scramble back against the headboard. He doesn’t listen. The Dude lunges onto the bed, pinning me down with the weight of his body. He rips a disinfectant wipe from the pack and starts wiping me down frantically.
“The mailman, his blood got on you… I-I saw it! It’s a contact spread. The plague is trying to turn you into a vessel so that they can get me!”
“You’re hurting me! You’re too heavy!” I scream, turning my head away from him.
“I’m saving you!” He shouts, dropping the wet wipe and grabbing the wet washcloth. He douses it in a clear liquid…rubbing alcohol. He starts scrubbing my face until my skin is raw and red.
He looks up at me, his sunglasses lopsided on his face. I can see his green eyes for the first time. They’re wide and darting around the room as if something is gonna pop out at him.
“We have to be clean.” He whispers, his voice hitching into a sob. “If you’re infected… I would have to put you down. And I don’t want to do that.”
He slumps against me, his forehead resting on my shoulder. He’s trembling now, clutching my hands against his chest. I lean into him. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, controlling my urge to run away and scream.
“You’re right. Everyone in this town is plagued.”
He stiffens for a second, then he lets out a breath. Dude pulls me closer. “It’s everywhere, Little Bird. It’s in the water and in the air. But not here, we’re safe here.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t believe you before.” I lie, looking anywhere but him. I reach up and fix his crooked glasses. “But, um...I’m so thirsty. Can I get some water, please?”
I feel his grip loosen. His head turns to the kitchenette, then he looks back at me suspiciously.
“Water.” He repeats. “Right, you probably haven't drank anything in a few days.” He stands up, walking to the small kitchen. Dude sees me about to follow him. “Don’t move. The tile is cold. I’ll bring it to you.”
My eyes dart to the front door, it’s chained, but I could probably escape. I just need him to stay distracted for a few more moments.
“Thank you, Dude.” I murmur as he approaches me with the glass of water. “You’re so nice to me.”
He pauses, looking surprised that I’m being nice to him for once. “Uhm… I-I try to be. I’m gonna get you a snack.” The man turns back to the kitchen.
Now.
I jump off the bed, my feet hitting the cold and sticky linoleum with a quiet slap. My hand shoots out, unchaining the door.
“Um, Songbird?” He asks, surprised by the noise.
I ignore my heartbeat spiking, opening the door and bolting out. The Paradise heat hits my face. I was finally free from him… or so I thought. I feel two hands grab my waist, yanking me back into the trailer.
“NO!” I shriek, kicking the air and grabbing onto the doorframe.
He tugs me away and shoves me onto the floor. The Dude slams the door and slides the chain back. He hauls me back into his bedroom, looking furious. “I trusted you! But yet again, you lie and betray me! It’s like you want to be infected!” He rasps.
“I just want to go home! You’re insane!!” I scream back.
He flinches as if I actually hit him. His face changes, shifting from heartbreak to...just blankness. He slowly reaches into his pocket to pull out a handful of ammunition, clicking them into his weapon. “That’s the infection talking. It’s eating your brain! It’s making you want to go back to that godforsaken job.” He mutters. “It’s making you lie to me, it’s making you hate me.”
He stops and looks at the locket hanging around my neck. Dude’s eyes flick up to my face, and he smiles that horrible smile again.
“Since you like to go outside so much…” He whispers, poking my forehead. “We’re going to go out! But you don’t get a pistol this time. You get a gas can.”
He reaches under the bed to grab a red plastic canister. It’s empty though.
“We’re going to your job, the Hooters. If they want to dress like the devil’s mistresses, they can burn like them too. And you’re gonna be the one to light them up.”
He hands me the gas can. “It’s empty.”
“Oh, yeah I forgot. Um, we’ll make a pit stop. But please don’t try to run away this time.” He says awkwardly. Hmm, he’s acting normal again. I think.
“Okay, come on.” He smiles, taking her hand and walking to his truck. He gets in and so do you. “We’re gonna go to the gas station, and then the Hooters.”
After a while of driving in silence, Dude speaks up. “I’m sorry I had to be...a bit firm with you, Little Bird. But everything is so filthy here. So tainted by Satan’s hate. God would want me to help Paradise, so that’s what I’m doing.”
I don't say anything and just look out of the window.
"Stay in the truck" He says, hopping out.
Inside of the vehicle, the silence is killing me. This is my chance, I can just make a run for it. As I try to turn to the door, the seat creaks. The Dude's head snaps towards me. That is so damn creepy.
He finishes filling the can and walks back. "Now, we go take care of those coworkers of yours." He mumbles, a strange grimace crossing his face. Maybe he doesn't want to kill everyone.
The truck bounces over the rough roads, the engine groaning as Dude swerves into the Hooters parking lot.
"We're here." He says simply.
"Dude, please. This is just cruel!" I plead, grabbing his arm.
"Look here, Little Bird. I've given you chance after chance. You're going to light this place up, okay?" He growls, taking off his seatbelt and walking to the passengers side. He helps me out of the truck and puts the gas can in my hands.
"You don't have to do this. If you want to save me from being infected, we can just leave. We can go somewhere better, like... like New Mexico, or- or California! If we do this, there's no going back." I whisper, my voice cracking.
"Leave?" He repeats softly. "But I have to help all of the people. What if there's more like us?"
"Everyone is like us! You've created this sick reality in your head where everyone is against you! In reality, you're nothing but a psychotic idiot who thinks Jesus Christ is talking to him!!" I snap, shoving him away. "Fuck you, fuck Hooters, and fuck my life!" I'm walking away form him now.
I didn't even get five steps away from him.
A sound like a thunderbolt shattered the air. I didn't even register the shot before I felt the impact. I fall to the concrete, holding my foot in pain. The man stands over me. He looks heartbroken. "You're infected! You don't know what you're saying!!"
"You shot my foot!" I wheeze, clutching the gravel. "You nut! I can't fucking walk now!"
The Dude looks down at me, then at the building. "I-... I'll go get napkins. Stay here, Or I'll actually kill you this time."
I watch as he goes inside and I try to crawl away from the truck. It had been a few minutes, yet I've gotten nowhere. I see Dude approaching me with some gauze. "Here, sit up. I found something for your foot."
I nod and reluctantly sit up, watching as he takes off my shoe. He helps me stand up when the building explodes. Something hits my temple and I pass out.