Wormwood Dawn (Episode II) Read Free Page A

fellas,” Dan said.
    He turned to go back into the house, leaving the gate open so the horses could go out and graze in the yard—and crap somewhere else. Pauli followed, and Drew came around the corner shaking his head.
    “That truck is pretty conspicuous,” he said. “It sticks out like a sore thumb.”
    “We’ll worry about it later,” Dan said, unlocking the side door. “I wanna check the bulletin board site.”
    The house smelled stale, as usual. With the power out, and the furnace not running, the air just kind of hung there constantly. The only source of circulation they had was the box fan that sat between the kitchen and living room, and that got turned off every time they left the house. There was no need to waste power keeping a fan going when they weren’t home.
    Dan went to the broken sliding doors to the deck. They had been covered in OSB, screwed right to the frames, with small vents cut into the panels for looking outside. Dan slid the door open and pull-started the generator. It huffed and puffed in response, starting roughly, but thankfully starting. Pauli watched him, wagging his stubby little tail.
    “Want some food?” Dan asked. Pauli jumped in circles. “Well, okay. You understand that word.”
    There were a few deer bones left on last night’s dinner plates. Dan tossed them to the floor, and Pauli eagerly grabbed one and lay down on the floor to enjoy it. Dan then went back outside to unload their score from the pickup. Drew was on his way in with a load of bags.
    “Even warm beer is gonna be good,” he said as he passed.
    “Sit it out on the deck,” Dan said. “It’ll get cold.”
    He grabbed the remaining bags from the bed, closing the garage door, and heading back into the house. He set them on the kitchen table, and then went to the fireplace to put more logs in the smoldering fireplace. Pauli looked up, almost smiling as he took a break from chewing the dried bits of meat that still clung to the bone.
    “Like that?” Dan said. Pauli wagged his tail.
    Drew shut the deck door after depositing the beer outside, and carried two other bags to the living room, where he dumped them out on the floor and sat down to sort through their contents.
    “King Dons?” he asked, holding up a package that looked identical to Ding Dongs. “What the fuck? Pork rinds… gum? You need fresh breath there, buddy?”
    Dan chuckled, sitting down on the other side of the pile with the bag of pints. He pulled them out, one by one, lining them up on the floor. “I’ve never even heard of any of this shit,” he said.
    “That’s because you drink that cheap shit that I wouldn’t give to my drunken uncle.”
    “Fuck your uncle,” Dan said, “and his liver.”
    Drew reached over to grab a pint. “Aw, damn,” he exclaimed happily, holding up a bottle of Fireball schnapps. “This is my shit.”
    He unscrewed the cap, sniffing it like a bottle of fine wine, and took a swig. He smacked his lips, grinning strangely. “Now that’s good shit.”
    Dan opened a bottle of no name tequila, guzzling at least a third of it. “Ah,” he said. “Tastes like Mexican piss.”
    It felt good going down, and didn’t taste too bad. But there was a little bit of a lighter fluid taste that lingered. He didn’t care.
    “ Ta-kill-ya ,” Drew said, sorting through the cigarettes.
    He opened a pack, lighting one up and sighing with pleasure as he exhaled. “Damn,” he said. “Cancer never tasted so good.”
    Dan rubbed his shoulder. It was still aching. The dislocation at the hands of the hunter-thing was painful as hell, and it lingered after all these days of rest. He leaned back and reached into his pocket for the pill bottle. He had two Vicodin left. Soon he would have to resort to the codeine, and that just didn’t work as well. He took one, washing it down with a swig of tequila.
    “We should go back to Gary and Linda’s,” Dan said, thinking of an excuse to do so. “I know they have solar panels.