His fingers caught in his grimy hair. Giving up trying to pretend he could be presentable after being out in the desert sun digging through garbage for three days, Devon hurried to the small square Carrie and he pretended to call home.
As he drew near, he heard the sounds of moaning. Could his wife have somehow become infected? How could it be possible if he passed a dozen men between the gate and his room?
Drawing near the door, he knew one of the voices belonged to his wife, but there was another. His exhausted mind and nerves snapped into action and he pushed into their room.
Instead of roaming undead or an epic battle for life, Carrie lay beneath Nathan with her legs spread. Devon wanted to burn out his eyes with a torch when he couldn’t help but fixate on the sight of Nathan entered her over and over again.
A stream of curses erupted from him beyond his control and would be forever forgotten.
With surprising strength, Carrie pushed the much larger man off of her and started to shout something, which would also never be remembered.
Nathan had just enough time to see Devon charging in, before Devon’s right fist cracked him in the jaw. Nathan spun in a half circle and toppled to the floor with a cry.
Devon’s dust covered body pulsed. His finger pointed at her like a weapon. “What? How is this even possible? I fight through hordes, fucking hordes, to bring back a few scraps of food and Mr. PHD, in fucking Humanities, is boning you? I should kill this fuck.”
He had to look away as she started to cry. “You realize that it’s shit like this that could get us kicked out of here. I was just out there. Without our vehicles we would have been done. We don’t have any vehicles, Carrie and you… you fucking cheated on me. I’m out there risking my life and you let this fat fucking leech be with you. I…”
Fearing where his anger could take him, Devon flung the door open.
From behind, he heard Nathan getting onto his hands and knees. “My sister is married to Edward. You’ll be expelled for this,” he forced out past the fingers clutching his wounded jaw.
One giant step forward later and Devon’s boot connected with the side of Nathan’s head. “You care enough about who’s married to who, then find your own wife.”
“Devon, I was lonely and confused. I heard your group had been killed.”
He looked over his shoulder once, but stayed silent. The door slammed shut and he did his best to avoid punching things as he stomped away from his room.
He had gathered enough goods to sit in the half-assed apartment the Collective dared to call a bar. Warm Bud Lights approached his idea of hell, but after the Collective’s fifty percent, he still had plenty for battering and he would be double damned if Carrie was going to see as much as a can of beats.
He had just started his third tepid nightmare, when three of Edward’s strong-arms made a triangle around him.
“You shouldn’t had done that, Devon.” Their leader, Fines, looked like a diseased goth who run out of dark hair dye and was stuck having his bright orange mule lick dangle over his face.
“Could anyone do different?”
“I suppose not, but I gotta take you with us. Edward wants to talk to you and Devon, I’ll just tell you now. He’s steaming over this. You hurt Nathan pretty bad.”
“I could have killed him.”
“Dev, it isn’t funny. You know all Nate’s got is his brains and you hit him in the head twice.”
Devon took a long pull on his crappy beer.
“You going to come with us, nice or not?”
Devon thought about all the things he could have done. He could have tried to fight his way past them. He could have made a break for the gate and maybe grabbed Carrie despite of what an…
His chair made a load screech as he got to his feet and he marched in between the men toward Edward’s apartment.
Tune in next Weekend for the next episode of Devo/s mad journey into the second year of the Eternal Aftermath