Dead Frontier/Issue 83

This is Issue #83 of Dead Frontier by Walkerbait22, titled ''Desire. ''This is the fifth issue in Volume 14.

Issue 83 - Desire
Roxie sits at the foot of her bed, a few candles lit around her, glaring down at an old faded newspaper. The bold, black headline stares back at her:

Unimaginable Tragedy - Family of Four Victim of Triple Murder + Suicide.

Why she's held on to this for so long, she's not entirely sure. But it's January 21, and, even though the world ended, not reading over the article this year, like she does every other, just doesn't seem right. Her eyes fall over the black and white pictures of the four deceased--a man, a woman, and two young girls--their smiling faces so out of place given their fate, before she decides to let her gaze fall on the article.

By Quinton Beck, January 21, 2003

''A family of four was found shot to death in their suburban home last night. Allison Wilcox, 24, Jill Wilcox, 4, and Miranda Wilcox, 6, are victims of what appears to be a triple murder committed by husband and father Timothy Wilcox, 29, who took his own life shortly afterwards.''

''At 11 P.M. last night, Mrs. Wilcox's sister, Roxanne, 26, walked in on the gruesome scene. She has refused to comment on the tragedy after being questioned and released by the police.''

Mr. Wilcox's ulterior motives are unclear, but police have continued their investigations...

The article goes on and on describing the grisly scene and the husband’s possible reasons for the massacre. They never found out.

But Roxie continues reading, a stone-cold, unreadable expression on her face, until she reaches the last line, which ends on a bland: Updates on the case coming as the police release more information.

She scoffs and shakes her head, crumpling the already-wrinkled paper in her hands. “Ten fucking years...” she mutters to herself, and after a decade, she rips the newspaper in half and stuffs it in the trash can by her bedside.

Roxie rises late the next morning. She pulls on her coat, gloves, and boots to protect against the January cold before she heads outside, where men and women alike are already working. A guy with a beanie pulled low over his ears carries a few pieces of firewood past her and nods a hello. Someone else shovels away the snow covering the cobblestone road that snakes through the camp.

On the northern-end of the camp, the gates creak open, allowing through a set of two cars. They each park at a space to the right of the gate, and the supply runners come flooding out. Sterling and Savannah each carry a bag--one on their back and one in their hands--and head to the building hastily-made out of brick that acts as Storage B.

“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone...” Sterling sings to himself as he shoves a can onto one of the shelves, Savannah doing the same next to him.

“Brushing up on your singing skills?” Savannah asks with a grin.

“Nah. Just like that song.”

“Good. Because you sound bad.”

“Good thing I’ve learned not to take your insults to heart. Asshole.” He shakes his head at her, all the while smiling, as he digs deeper into the contents of his bag.

“I’m kidding. You’re not that bad. Pretty good, actually.”

Before he can respond, there’s a knock at the door, and Roxie lets herself in without waiting for an answer.

“We’re putting everything away already,” Sterling explains. “No need to worry.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says, “but I needed to talk to you about something else. It’s urgent.”

“How urgent?”

“So urgent that I’d like to talk to you two about it. Now.” She walks forward, and stops when she’s a few feet behind them as they continue putting everything away. “Both of you have been here for a long time. A really, really long time. That’s good. So I’m going to tell you something that you can’t. Tell. Anyone. Until I inform everyone myself.”

Sterling and Savannah freeze what they’re doing, the mysterious tone in her voice making their curiosity grow. “Yeah?” Savannah says hesitantly. “What is it?”

“I’m thinking about taking the hotel.”

“The Hyatt?” Sterling asks.

“No, Sterling. Of course I’m not talking about the only hotel we’ve ever had any sort of relations with.”

“Sorry. But you mean...like, destroying it or...moving in there?”

“More of a move in. You’ve never been inside, have you?” Sterling shakes his head. “In the simplest terms, it’s a big step up from these shitty cabins. It is a five star hotel. Beds, over 2,000 rooms, it’s even got a view of the fucking Chicago River.”

Savannah takes a quick glance at Sterling before she adds, “Yeah, but you’ve gotta consider some things. They’ve got 300-plus people, first of all. And--”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ve considered the possibilities, I’ve talked to Hector. They’re hurting over there. Very unstable. Alexander doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, and the people are completely delusional. At least, most of them are. We play it smart, knock them down little by little, and we can take it. Eventually.”

“But, is that really necessary? I mean, what are we going to do with the hundreds of people there?”

Roxie scoffs at first, then laughs loudly. “You’ve known me for nine months and you’re seriously asking me that? Come on.”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what you want,” Sterling says. “Yeah. I’m by your side, one hundred percent.”

“Same here,” Savannah sees immediately after, nodding her head. “Just...until you’ve got all the gears in place, don’t do anything, y’know...Roxie-ish.”

“You don’t think I’ve got all the gears in place?” Roxie asks.

Savannah hesitates. “N-no, I didn’t mean that. Of course you do. You wouldn’t bring this up if you didn’t.”

Roxie’s forced scowl slowly transforms into a smile, and she throws her head back and laughs. “You guys are too funny to mess with. Oh, man. Relax. And ‘Roxie-ish.’ I like that.”

“...Yeah,” Savannah says, and she laughs uncomfortably.

“Finish up. We’ll talk more later. I’ve got everything set up...but the details need some ironing out.” She starts to walk out, but then turns abruptly. “Give me one of those,” she says, gesturing to the can of beans in Savannah’s hands. Savannah throws it without hesitation, and she catches it with ease. “I’ll have someone get you guys later for a longer chat. Don’t be surprised.” With that, she leaves, and Savannah finally lets out the breath she’s been holding in.

“My God, why does she scare me so much?” Savannah says.

“Because she’s scary. And she knows she’s scary,” Sterling replies.

“And why do I get the feeling she doesn’t like me?”

“Because she probably doesn't. She doesn't like many people. You don’t like her, do you?”

“God, no. She just keeps me fed. That’s good enough for me. But really, who does like her?”

“Walter,” Sterling says under his breath and he scratches his head slyly.

“Don’t even bring up that asshole. Please.”

“Sorry, but it’s true. But you know he can’t help it. He’s addicted to the power. Don’t take it personally.”

“I know. He’s naturally a kiss-ass,” Savannah says. “Could do without them both, to be honest.”

“Probably shouldn’t say that.” Sterling looks into his bag one last time, and once he finds that it’s empty, he zips it up and puts the single strap over his shoulder. “Roxie trusts you, you know. But she knows that you’re pissed about Walter, too. Don’t let her have any reason to doubt you. Just nod your head and smile, alright?”

Walter stands face to face with Duncan, who stands a good 12 inches taller than him and shows off a head of close cropped hair and muscles that nearly bulge out of his dark t-shirt. Their fists are both raised to protect against blows to their faces, and around them, people cheer, shouting out either “Walter!” or “Duncan!” depending on who they’re rooting for.

“Let’s go, little man,” Duncan taunts. Walter can’t recall if, in the six months he’s known Duncan, he’s called him ‘Walter,’ or anything that isn’t an insult to his height. Walter just sighs and throws a punch, but it’s weak enough that Duncan blocks it easily with his forearm. “Lame.”

“What the hell, Walter?!” Roxie shouts among the screaming onlookers. Walter, unaware that she was even here, turns his head. A boneheaded mistake, for just half a second later, Duncan’s fist connects with his jaw and he falls hard, his chin ricocheting off the cement floor. He groans, and before Duncan can do anymore damage, another man, Jorge, steps between.

“Alright, guys. That’s it,” Jorge announces. “I think we all can agree, Duncan won this one.” There’s a mixture of boos and cheers and Jorge helps Walter stand and makes sure there’s no lasting damage to his face. He’s got a busted lip and will most likely get some pretty bad bruising on his face, but nothing serious. “Good try, man,” Jorge says, and he pats Walter on the shoulder.

Walter leaves the small circle where the fighting takes place and walks toward a smirking Roxie. “Why the hell did you do that?” he asks. “Got my face all fucked up.”

“You’re distracted too easily,” Roxie says. “You need to fix that. One day it’ll be more serious than a punch to the face. Maybe a bullet to the head.”

“Are you threatening to kill me? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

“Not yet. But get you’re shit together. Better your focus. Now walk with me.”

“You’re serious about this?” Walter asks as he and Roxie walk through the snowy area outside, bundled up to their necks.

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be too hard. We’ve gotta hit them where it hurts,” Roxie says.

“And what’d you have in mind?”

“I’m still talking with Hector to figure that out.”

“Hector? What is it with that guy? Is he with the Hyatt, or isn’t he?”

“He’s a pathetic piece of shit. Just get him a little scared and he’ll babble out of his fucking mind. Do you know how much shit I’ve got on Alexander already? How much I know about that damn hotel in general? The kid is out of his mind. Seriously. Someone’ll get rid of him once he’s fulfilled his purpose. Which shouldn’t be too far off, now.”

“How are you gonna do it? Get rid of him, I mean?” Walter asks.

“Not entirely sure. There’s tons of possibilities. Bullet to the head works best, probably. He actually thinks I’m going let him and his sister join us once everything is set and done. Idiot.”

“You could bring the sister. Let her join the other girls.”

“Most likely. We’ll see what happens. But you’re all for this?”

“Sure am. No offense to you or anything, but I’m taking a damn hotel or this place any day of the week. And you know they’re gonna pussy out of our supply deal any day now, so might as well get it over with.”

“This is why I--” Roxie starts, but someone shouting her name makes her turn. A scrawny man is running towards her with a folded piece of paper.

“From the Hyatt,” he says breathlessly, handing the paper to her.

“About time,” she says, opening it immediately. The words on the page bring a smile to her face and she hands it for Walter to read himself. “Took him a month, but he actual found out.”

“Nice,” Walter mutters. “It’s kind of on short notice...”

“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got a day to prepare. We’ll get it done.”