Wonkette Presents THE SPLIT: Chapter Thirty-Three
In which Lorinda and Stimpy slip out of Revelation under cover of pandemonium.
Lorinda and Stimpy understood, without speaking, that although they needed to walk old, they had to move faster than they had on the way to the Rapture Ride, both because it would be noticeably weird to be walking slowly in the midst of this chaos, and because they had to get out of there as quickly as possible. So they had to walk slow but fast.
Lorinda couldn’t help herself — as she scooted past one of the ride’s pilings she looked toward Janelle’s little army. She gasped at what she saw.
Janelle, gun in hand, was pushing her way through her men until she stood in front of Brad, who was still bandaged, and now shirtless, sitting on the ground and working on his belt. She grabbed his chin, yanked him to a standing position, and jammed the gun into his forehead.
Lorinda froze, horrified by what she thought she was about to see. But then Brad said something, Janelle lowered the gun, and Brad scooped up his shirt.
“Hurry up,” Stimpy urged. Following closely, Lorinda found herself wondering if Brad had been planning to remove the bandage for smoother Rapturing. But did God really want that? To see everyone’s icky, unhealed wounds? She gave a little laugh — and then stifled it. This wasn’t funny.
They emerged from behind the ride and, facing away from Janelle’s crew, walking old but fast past frenzied naked CCSA citizens and piles of their discards, headed toward the parking lot. She suddenly wrinkled her face in disgust. “What. Is. That. SMELL?”
Without looking at her, Stimpy said, “People are shitting themselves.”
“Fear?”
“I guess. Fear? Excitement? They’re trying to leave their bodies behind? Who the fuck knows with these people. C’mon.”
They hobbled on. When she came to an automatic weapon similar to theirs lying on the ground in front of her, Lorinda bent down and scooped it up. Stimpy gave her a nod of approval, then spotted a few handguns on the ground and did the same. Soon they were lugging as many guns as they could carry, cradling long guns in outstretched arms like firewood and dangling pistols from their fingers. When Stimpy came upon a shopping cart full of recently purchased food, he emptied it on the ground and gently lowered his weapons into it, indicating that Lorinda’s collection should go in there as well.
“I know I started this,” Lorinda said, “but why do we need these? How many can we shoot at once?”
“They might come in handy,” Stimpy said.
She shrugged and placed her guns in the cart on top of his. Glancing back and seeing no sign of Janelle or her crewmembers, they resumed their hike to the parking lot, now with Stimpy pushing the gun-filled shopping cart. A moment later, despite the swirling anarchy around them, they heard a woman yelling, “No, Jeffrey! Put them back down on the ground! Gently!” They turned just in time to see a young mother and father, both naked, glaring at their young son (How old could he be? Four? Five?). He was also naked, and was grinning as he pointed two pistols at them.
“We’re about to go to Heaven,” the father said, taking a step toward his child. “Put the guns down! This is the Rapture!” Giggling playfully, the little kid pulled the trigger just as his father’s hands reached out for the weapons. The recoil knocked the kid over backward. He burst into tears as the bullet shredded the father’s left hand and passed into his heart.
Lorinda was already springing forward to help, but Stimpy grabbed her arm, saying: “No! We have to get out of here.”
“But —” She pointed. The mother was on her knees, screaming.
“They are reaping what they have sown,” Stimpy said sternly. Then he hesitated. “Sowed. No, have sown.”
Lorinda sighed and, reluctantly, nodded. They walked quickly toward the gate. “I guess we don’t have to walk old anymore,” she said. “No one’s looking at us.”
“The cameras,” said Stimpy. “But, yeah. The main thing is, we need to get the fuck out.”
They passed into the parking lot. The noise was all behind them, except for the ticket-booth kid, who was on the roof of the booth, naked, screaming, “Take me, God! Take me! Take me! I’m here! It’s me, Cord! Take me ...!”
“Shit,” said Stimpy. He stopped pushing the cart and indicated with his head for Lorinda to look beyond the booth.
“Fuck,” she said. There was a uniformed Domestic Security officer, no doubt one of Janelle’s, standing near their car.
Leaving the shopping cart in place, Stimpy took Lorinda’s arm and walked her to the side of the ticket booth, where they couldn’t be seen by Janelle’s man. He took his device out of his pocket and made a call. It went quickly: “Yes, we pushed the button … we spotted Confeds looking for us … we’re in the parking lot, and there’s one of them on our car … yeah, we’ll deal with it … perfect, thanks.”
“Wilma?”
“Yeah,” Stimpy said, re-pocketing his device. “Wait here.” The kid was still raving on top of the booth. Stimpy shoved the shopping cart toward Lorinda. “I’ll be right back.”
He clicked the safety off his weapon and walked his best old-man walk toward the Zhiguli. The security man eyed him suspiciously. In his creakiest voice, Stimpy said, “You see what’s going on in there?” He turned toward the enclave, then, in one slick move, spun back to face the Confed, unshouldered the weapon, dropped to one knee, and let loose a burst that cut the man’s legs out from under him. In a second he was standing over the moaning figure who, despite the excruciating pain, was clumsily trying to unholster his gun. Stimpy put an end to that with a hard kick to the man’s temple. “Have a nice Rapture,” he muttered before taking the man’s gun and hustling back to Lorinda.
“Oh, God, are you all right?” said Lorinda, throwing her arms around him. “I heard ...”
“I was the shooter,” Stimpy said.
Slightly embarrassed, she released her hug. “Now what?” she said.
“Wilma’s setting up a car switch, but we’re in this one for now. You have your Rapture pager?” Lorinda took it out of her bag. “Just drop it here.” She dropped it. He did the same with his. “We don’t want to be fined $2,500 each, do we? Okay, let’s go.”
With Lorinda by his side, he pushed the shopping cart to the car.
“Oh my God,” Lorinda said when they came upon the crumpled tangle of limbs in a puddle of blood.
“It was him or us,” Stimpy said. “If he’s unlucky he might even live.” He opened the driver’s-side back door and carefully placed the guns on the floor. “You drive.” As Lorinda slipped in behind the wheel, he rammed the shopping cart hard into the inert Domestic Security officer, walked around the car, and got into the passenger seat.
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PREVIOUSLY in THE SPLIT!
Chapter One. In which we meet our heroine and her dainty little gun.
Chapter Two. In which Lorinda demonstrates her bartending virtuosity.
Chapter Three. In which our heroine receives a promotion and prepares to celebrate.
Chapter Four. In which our heroine proves herself an immoral citizen of the CCSA.
Chapter Five. In which our heroine goes to church.
Chapter Six. In which Lorinda contemplates her future, ignores Pastor Doug, and gets something unexpected from Emmie.
Chapter Seven. In which Lorinda learns something that threatens her big dream.
Chapter Eight. In which our heroine freaks out.
Chapter Nine. In which our heroine says the forbidden word as an unwelcome visitor arrives.
Chapter Ten. In which two unpleasant men perturb our heroine.
Chapter Eleven. In which our heroine seems to have found a solution to her problem.
Chapter Twelve. In which that black truck follows our heroine all the way to Austin.
Chapter Thirteen. In which Lorinda lashes out.
Chapter Fourteen. In which our heroine gets a taste of life in the big city.
Chapter Fifteen. In which our heroine meets a fellow bartender and has a drink.
Chapter Sixteen. In which Lorinda once again takes a swing with her little pink gun.
Chapter Seventeen. In which our heroine prepares to escape.
Chapter Eighteen. In which our heroine gets in a truck with a couple of slightly scary strangers.
Chapter Nineteen. In which our heroine learns that she’s got a long way to go.
Chapter Twenty. In which our heroine spends a night in a gas station.
Chapter Twenty-One. In which our heroine learns about the enclaves of the CCSA.
Chapter Twenty-Two. In which our heroine learns way too much about the enclaves of the CCSA.
Chapter Twenty-Three. In which our heroine experiences liberty run amok.
Chapter Twenty-Four. In which our heroine’s escape is disastrously derailed.
Chapter Twenty-Five. In which our heroine finds herself back at the gas station.
Chapter Twenty-Six. In which Stimpy, on the road to Revelation, reveals Ren’s real name.
Chapter Twenty-Seven. In which our heroine manages not to crash the car as she learns more about CCSA enclaves.
Chapter Twenty-Eight. In which Lorinda and Stimpy enter Revelation.
Chapter Twenty-Nine. In which our heroine has pizza for the first time and readies herself to be an old fogie.
Chapter Thirty. In which our heroine finally gets to experience the Rapture Ride.
Chapter Thirty-One. In which our heroine’s long-awaited Rapture Ride experience is interrupted by some unwelcome visitors.
Chapter Thirty-Two. In which our heroine triggers the Rapture…or something.
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I'm left wondering if you could walk around present-day Texas pushing a shopping cart filled with firearms and have everyone more or less ignore you. From some of the stories coming out of there, I can't help but feel they aren't too far away from that state of affairs.
I have gotten so wrapped up in this story! It is getting so difficult to anxiously await the next segment.