In The End: a pre-apocalypse novel by Edward M Wolfe

say in
response to Trey’s annoying interruption, but he couldn’t think of anything. He
was already having trouble maintaining his erection and was concentrating hard
on fucking. He couldn’t just switch mental gears and come up with a good reply
that would put Trey in his place.
    “Just fuck off now!” he yelled over
his shoulder toward the door.
    “Stop it, Carl, or I’m busting in
and stopping you. We ain’t like this. The Unforgiven don’t rape no women. I
think everyone will back me on this.”
    Carl’s brain lit up with anger at
Trey’s defiance and mention of the club backing him. It was none of their
business what he did. He chose not to respond this time and felt his anger
translate itself into increased blood flow where he needed it most. Finally, he
was getting hard. He started ramming himself into the woman harder than before.
    “Count of three, Carl!”
    Carl looked at the bed to see where
his gun had gone. The blanket was all bunched up and probably covering the gun
somewhere. Goddamn Trey. Carl didn’t mind having it out with him, but couldn’t
he wait to settle this after he was finished?
    “One!”
    Carl felt his body preparing to
climax. This was the worst time to have to stop and find the damned gun. Trey
was going to be very sorry he had fucked with him like this. He slapped the
woman’s ass and said, “I’ll finish with you in a second.”
    Trey was about to yell out, “Two!”
when he realized this wasn’t going to be easy and he’d have a badly needed advantage
if Carl didn’t know right when to expect him. Why count and give him advance
notice? Trey stepped back as far as he could and then charged the door with his
shoulder out front.
    Carl was moving the blanket around
and trying to find his gun before Trey could reach “three.” He flapped the
blanket and the Glock flew off the bed and landed on the floor. He turned to
retrieve it and heard the wood crack and splinter as Trey busted into the room
and kept on coming until he slammed Carl in the back, sending him flying
forward where his head slammed into the corner of the nightstand beside the
bed. Carl went down and moaned, slowly bringing one hand up to his bleeding
head.
    Trey rushed over to Carl before he
could start to recover and kicked him once in the face with his heavy,
steel-toed boot. Trey was scared at what he had just done, but what choice did
he have? Even if the rest of the guys didn’t back him, he had to do it anyway.
He wasn’t a fucking monster.
    He went to the woman and fumbled
with the belt, trying to unbuckle it with his trembling hands. He constantly
looked from the belt to Carl to see if he was going to get up. With the belt
undone, he picked up the gun and tucked it into his waistband.
    “Ma’am, I am so sorry about this. I
didn’t know. I really didn’t know. I hope you believe me.” He looked at her
swollen eyes with the flesh around them turning purple, and the blood around
her mouth that had dripped down to her chin. “Oh God, this is bad. I’m so
sorry!”
    The woman had immediately rolled
over onto her back when she felt the belt fall away from her hands and rapidly
scooted backwards away from Trey until she reached the headboard. She had
pulled the blanket along with her and held it up over her body as she went,
staring wild-eyed at Trey. He felt like he was in a horror movie and didn’t
know if he was the good guy or a bad guy. He had helped make this possible.
    “You’re safe now. I swear to God
I’m not going to hurt you. But we need to get out of here. He’ll kill us both
if he gets a chance.” He needed her to believe him, but she just stared at him
like he was talking a foreign language. She pulled her knees up to her chest
with the blanket bunched up in front of her and she shook like she was having a
mild seizure. Trey couldn’t tell if she understood him or if she was even
hearing his voice. It was the most awful thing he’d ever seen.
    It was clear to him that she