Chapter Two
There were so few people to count on, but her hands never let her down.
Part of her didn't want to masturbate so often, but most nights she just put herself at ease by reminding herself that if she didn't, then
they
would win. Whoever
they
happened to be that particular night.
So she treated herself to exorbitant amounts of internet porn. She traded nudes with countless strangers she met on dating apps, men and women alike, none of whom were ever anywhere within a reasonable driving distance. And she played, and played, and played...
And look where it's gotten me.
Sabrina Keary did not like living in New Sanning. On day one it looked no different from any suburban nightmare. On day two she thought it looked a little cleaner than her childhood hometown, maybe. Now, six months in, she hated every corner, every building, and almost everyone who lived there.
Especially Henning.
The grandfather clock in the den struck four, and Sabrina huffed out a silent groan.
Fuck it,
she thought, and continued to run her middle finger slowly up the length of her vagina. On good nights all she needed to do was focus on the feeling, but good nights were scarce. Porn wasn't doing the trick tonight either, not even her usual favorite gangbangs or bukkakes or cum walks. Tonight she was reduced to thinking about Zack.
Zack and his dark oak hair that waved down to his shoulders. Zack and his strong arms holding her down by the wrists. Zack and his unusually sharp teeth nibbling at her neck and her ears while his long fingers slid in and out of her deftly. Sabrina opened her eyes and looked over to the wall, where a photo hung of the two of them two years earlier. He had a cocky little smile, and it always reminded her of the way he would grin after making her cum.
"Nnnngh!" Sabrina grunted in frustration as a weak orgasm crawled out of her tense muscles.
All that work for almost no payback
, she lamented.
Sabrina stood and slipped into her black jeans quickly. She'd meant to leave the house much sooner, but the picture took her thoughts back in time and kept her there too long. As she swung her backpack over one shoulder, she took one last longing glance at the photo.
Early morning dew twinkled in the moonlight when Sabrina hopped out her window and started walking to the town square. Cold November air nipped at her ears and her cheeks, reminding her all the more of Zack and his playful teeth. There was one night, just as cold and just as bright, when he'd bitten her ear and whispered with a growl, "One day we'll take over the world." She remembered giggling, squirming, biting her lip and nodding. And then he took her body and turned it into a temple of pleasure.
But then he cut his hair, put on a suit and tie, and started calling himself Zackary. No one could see the poisoned dagger tattooed over his heart, no one could hear the whiskey and cigarettes in his throat when he sang of autonomy and rebellion. "Why don't you want to be with me?" he asked her then. "I'm still me."
The town square of New Sanning had a new addition, hiding under a sheet in the exact center, standing atop a plinth in the middle of the fountain. Everyone knew it was a statue of Henning, the evil shit they all worshipped. But unveiling it would "still be fun," her mother said. Sabrina had her own idea of what would be fun.
She took off her shoes, walked through the placid water of the fountain, and climbed up the plinth with ease. The sheet was tied down, but nothing stopped her from simply standing underneath. It was bigger than she'd expected it to be, likely twice the size of the real man.
Even better,
she thought.
Now it'll look as small as it probably is.
She wouldn't get the chance to see her final touch on the statue until the morning. That was all right, so long as the whole town saw it at least once. Of course everyone would know that she did it, because nobody
else
would. Not any of the old stuffed shirts that lived here, not the comfortable young couples living through an early retirement. Certainly not that cunt Lana Moore on Pratt Street.
When she was sure that the job was done, Sabrina hopped down carefully to the water and started walking out. Stepping over the lip of the fountain, she nearly fell over in fright. Henning was standing there, watching.
"Early morning swim?" he asked with a shit-eating grin.
"Just a dip," she answered. "Don't you ever fucking sleep?"
"Sabrina, you haven't given me any time like you promised."
He wasn't with anyone else this time. No Officer Graham to cuff her and fine her for vandalism. So she sat down and started putting her shoes back on. "I tend not to keep promises with people who won't keep theirs."
Henning didn't step any closer. He'd learned by now that would only piss her off. Instead he just stood there, his horrible knowing smile making a joke out of the power he held. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm not sure what you mean," he said.
"My mother," Sabrina said, gritting her teeth. Just thinking about what he'd made of Greta Keary turned Sabrina's stomach. "You were supposed to make her normal again."
He shrugged. "I believe what I said was that I would undo it when I found someone who could take her place. I haven't yet. Sabrina, please. I just want us to get along."
"Fuck off. If you had any ounce of decency -"
"I'll be clear," he interrupted, his face becoming dark and serious. "I need you, Sabrina."
Her skin crawled with goosebumps. "What do you want from me?"
"Answers," he said. "You don't know them, so I was hoping we could figure them out together."
Sabrina stood up and slid the strap of her backpack onto her shoulder. "Fix my mom and we'll talk. Can I go home or are you calling Graham?"
"Please," he said, extending his arm toward Main Street. "I'm excited to see your handiwork in the morning."
"What?" Sabrina hesitated, sensing some kind of trap.
"Whatever you did under there," he said, pointing to the sheet covering his statue. "I'm sure everyone will love it. You know, I'm a little surprised you didn't do anything for our newcomers yesterday."
"Too predictable," she said. "I guess this was too."
"Well, you know me."
There was that smile again. Before he could creep her out anymore, Sabrina took her leave and put him as far behind her as she could. He did nothing to follow her. Whenever she turned her head to look back at the town square, she saw him standing right where he was before, watching her go.
When at last she turned the corner, putting him wholly out of sight, she started to breathe easy again. The sun was rising, not yet above the horizon but putting a violet hue in the east where there was black before. Sabrina passed Pratt Street, scowling at the Moore house, but remembering the one beside it, where the new blood had settled.
The Harpers,
she thought.
They looked nice enough, just like any other family in town. But unlike the others, they'd brought an adult son with them, and an unmarried one at that. Henning didn't often approve families like that. There must have been a damn good reason, at least in his eyes.
They probably only have a couple days before they're under his boot,
she thought. It usually only took that long. Maybe she could do something this time, warn them about Henning and his conniving scheme to strip the freedom from every last person in town. But they wouldn't believe her, of course. Sometimes, she didn't even believe herself.
They're probably not worth saving, anyway. They're probably just like everyone else here. Henning handpicks them for a reason.
Sabrina climbed back through her window and undressed for the few hours of sleep she could get before it was time to go to the unveiling. As she unhooked her bra and slipped a baggy sweater over herself, Sabrina could hear the unmistakable sounds of fellatio coming from down the hall. A consistent
guah, guah, guah,
in perfect rhythm.
Great,
she thought.
Mom's already awake.
* * * * *
"Brandon, get changed, we're going to the town square," his mother said when he walked through the front door. He'd expected as much. When he woke up in the Moore's house, they'd left a note for him saying they would be going to the unveiling.
Unveiling what?
he'd wondered, but surely he would know soon enough.
His mind was elsewhere as he chewed on the bagel his mother handed him in the car. Thankfully he'd had time for a quick shower, so the surprisingly strong smell of Lana didn't waft off his body anymore. Now only he knew what he'd done last night. He wondered how long it would take for Ricky to find out, for the whole town to instantly vilify Brandon and shun Lana into divorce and relocation. It all seemed inevitable to Brandon.
I guess just let it happen,
he reasoned.
No use in trying to stop it. That will just make things worse.
"Good," Tom Harper said when he parked the car. "We're not too late."
Half the town gathered in the square, many of them having their breakfast in groups on picnic blankets among the perfectly trimmed grass. The chess tables that ringed the fountain were all occupied with men in their earliest stages of greying, studying each other's tactics, carefully moving pieces every few seconds. Women stood by picnic tables, mimosas in hand, pearls dangling from their necks. Everyone behaved as though this were a beautiful summer day, but in truth the sky was overcast and the air sharp with cold.
"Why don't you go see if the Moores are here?" Nora said to Brandon as they stepped out of the car.
"Uh..." Brandon hesitated, stalling for an excuse. "I'll catch up with them. I should meet some others too."
His mother nodded and squeezed his hand before following her husband to one of the picnic tables. In all the excitement of the new town, they seemed so eager to get away from him. Brandon frowned, and turned his eyes to the big white sheet hovering over the fountain. Probably a statue, he figured.
Maybe they made a statue of me to commemorate the fastest fuck up in history.
