An Apple for Zoe: Book One ~ The Forsaken

'Midnight, brought us sweet romance'

Standing next to Jolson was a young Herman Kritzler in his Nazi uniform.

'I know all my whole life through' 

Working his way closer to the bedside, James saw Amanda Carlyle seated in a chair next to Kritzler. She was holding a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other, her attention on the bed. Standing against the wall was a tall man in pinstriped suit. A diamond lapel pin with initials, W.D.T sparkled in the smoke filled room. He watched emotionlessly with his hands in his pockets. Two women stood flanking him, their arms each hooked through his respectively.  One woman was blonde, the other brunette. The blonde was holding a handkerchief to her eyes, dabbing tears. Embroidered on her hankie were the initials, M.M.M. The brunette slowly licked her blood red lips and gasped with pleasure as she listened and watched.

'I'll be remembering you'

The sounds of bedsprings strained to the rhythmic thrusts, creating a voice of an invisible chorus that chanted, 'Fuck her Fatty!' The breathing and whispers mixed with the velvet tones of Al Bowlly.

'Whatever else I do'

James looked to the opposite side of the bed, where another well-dressed handsome man in an all white suit sat in a chair. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair. His long fingers laced together. His olive toned skin glistened from the heat of the bedside passion. Crossing his legs, he remained emotionless as he watched the event on the bed. The man's attention was not like the others. While they were completely focused on the bed, his focus seemed to be on everyone else. He stopped watching everyone long enough to remove a book from his inside pocket. He looked over at James. Acknowledging his presence with a nod, he scribbled a note and suavely returned the book to his pocket. He then resumed his focus back to the others in the room. James pushed his way to the edge of the bed and looked down to see the obese figure grunting and ramming his hips into what James could only imagine would be the petite body of Virginia Rappe.

'Fuck her Fatty!' bellowed the crowd of voyeurs. 'How am I doin Mabel?' grunted Fatty as he continued his relentless sexual assault. The brunette unhooked her arm from the tall gentleman and knelt down next to Fatty and smiled, as she pulled a Coke from the bucket of ice. 'You're doing fine Fatty, just fine,' replied Mabel in a soft, yet, encouraging tone.

Standing in the corner alone was the one and only little tramp. His worn bowler hat held up to his mouth. Face, bleached white in stage make-up causing his features to glow in the dim light of the room. His greasepaint Hitler moustache was wet and glistened from perspiration. His teeth chewed and chattered on the rim of his hat as he watched with anticipated ecstasy. 'Give him the Coke Mabel, give it to him,' he said giggling.

Screaming in orgasmic grunts the woman began to shout and cry out, 'He- he- he's kill-kill-killing me! Plu- pluh- please- muh-muh-make heh-heh- him stuh -stuh stop!'

James reached out to stop the violation. Kritzler blocked James with his riding crop.

'Nein! Das Frauline likes it.'

James shoved the riding crop aside and grabbed the meaty shoulder of the man on top of the girl. Pulling him away long enough to see the girl wasn't Virginia Rappe at all, but the sweet love of his youth, Julie Jackson.

James stood frozen in disbelief and shock. It couldn't be Julie, but in his heart he knew it was her. Those brown eyes staring up at him as they had many times before. Only this time they were pleading and yet ashamed. He looked down at her naked body and could see that like the other victims, Julie also had a tattoo directly over her genitalia. He tried to read it. His eyes widened as he took in the tattooed script. Julie turned her face away and attempted to hide her sex with a bruised forearm. The words read, 'The Desolate One'

Chapter Nine The Desolate One

'Help me,' whimpered the tiny voice.

'Help me please,' it cried again.

Lying on the floor James opened his eyes with a sudden start. The dimly lit chandelier glowed above him as he looked up and focused. He now remembered he was in the Arbuckle suite. I must have passed out, James thought to himself, rolling over and grabbing the edge of the bed to help himself stand up. As he pulled himself up his heart leapt—he was face to face with the dead body of Jessalee's sister, Valerie. Her blank eyes stared at James as he stood up. Watching him, her swastika carved forehead glistened from the wet blood, which had slowly dripped down her face, giving the appearance of tears.

'Puhleese help me,' sobbed the tiny voice once again catching James's attention. His head was still in a fog as he tried to gain his wits and find his radio. Reaching down to his hip, it was nowhere to be found. The crying voice called out to him again from what sounded like the next room. Slowly making his way toward the living room, he found he needed to brace himself against the wall. His legs were still not quite ready to cooperate with him. As James looked into the living room he could feel Valerie's dead eyes watching him leave. He half expected it to be her calling out to him. Staggering into the living room James expected to see where the noise was coming from. But the room was empty and still.

'Hello?' he called.

'Please help me, please,' the tiny voice cried in an innocent tone.

'Where are you?' called James back.

'Here!' pleaded the voice, redirecting James' attention to outside the room.

Moving to the door, he stepped into the hallway. Looking across the hall he noticed the door to room 1223 slightly ajar. Reaching down he found the grip of his gun, which allowed him to regain his confidence. Slowly James stepped across the hall and pushed open the door of room 1223. The room was piled with dead bodies on top of dead bodies. There were easily 12 or 13 people inside the room. Some were on the floor, others were slumped in chairs, more were on the bed. James looked down and saw tiny fingers wiggling underneath the pile of bodies on the floor. His eyes widened as he quickly knelt down to the floor.

'Oh my god, it's a child,' he said as he began to shove the corpses aside to get to the child. Finally he was able to pull to his surprise was a little girl. She sobbed as she threw her arms around his neck.

'It's okay honey, I got you. It's okay now,' he whispered as he held her. Picking her up, she couldn't have been any older than eight years old. James stepped back into the hallway, where he saw his radio on the floor near the door of room 1219. Bending over he quickly snatched it up and radioed for help.

'Mike you there!'

'Yeah I'm downstairs with Jessalee, did Grantham get your power back on up there?'

'I think so, Mike I need you up here fast. I found a little girl.'

'We found some kids down here too. It's devastating.'

'No Mike, she's not dead. She's alive! Get someone up here with some oxygen immediately,' commanded James.

'It's okay sweetheart, help is on the way,' he said, only to feel her grip her arms around his neck even tighter.

'So what's your name sweetie? It's okay, you can tell me I'm a police officer. I promise you won't have to go back in there again. Hey I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours, mine's Tom.'

'Jordan.'

'Jordan? That's a pretty name. So Jordan were you staying in the room I found you in?' She quickly nodded and sniffed, rubbing her nose.

'Are you staying here with your mommy and daddy?

'Uh-huh,' she sniffed.

'Jordan do you remember what happened before everyone fell asleep?'

'They aren't asleep, they're dead!' she shouted as she sobbed again.

'Oh honey, it's okay, I'm sorry.'

'I want to go before he comes back!' she cried as gripped her arms tightly around James' neck. Her desperation caused him to wonder what had her so frightened.