March 21, 2020
Hertford, PA, USA
Ben
"It's that time of the year." Callisto said over the rush of faucet water filling a plugged sink.
Benjamin Carter leaned on the counter separating the small galley kitchen from the connecting living room. When they first moved in three years ago after qualifying for an apartment in the low-rent building, their mother shoved a small round table into the living room in place of the second hand puke green couch currently centered in front of the 43 inch flat screen television she bought with money from her side hustle – a second job as a part-time maid at a run-down motel on the edge of Hertford. Thankfully she swapped the shaky table for the sturdy, comfortable couch that doubled as a bed for the visiting friends and distant relatives who dared to travel within the recovering economy.
"You purging?" He eyed up his sister's hunched back, envying her experience from purging the last two years.
She scrubbed the dishes vigorously. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Rory joining you this year?" He expected the once-best friend to die by 7 am.
Her head lifted and she twisted sideways to give him the stink eye. "Why wouldn't she?"
He shrugged. "Just figured with…"
Facing the dirty dishes again, Callisto Carter, a college student in pursuit of a degree in interior design, ignored him. He loved his big sister, but he hated how she let Rory Tholand walk over her. Best friends didn't sleep with each other's boyfriends.
"I'm 18. I can go with you this year." He tapped his fingers on the counter to an upbeat internal track.
She shook her head, thick brown hair pooling between her shoulder blades. "Mom needs you here. Just in case."
"You can't stop me." He said, moving around the counter and standing next to her. "I want to purge too."
"I don't purge. We help people. If we have to take lives, it's only out of necessity." She stopped scrubbing a bowl with the pink scrub pad. "We don't go out for fun, Ben. We go out to protect our community."
"How does leaving the house and walking the streets 'help' the community?" He air quoted smirking.
She jerked her thumb toward the boarded windows. A shield of boards nailed to a square wooden frame, and then strapped onto hooks screwed into the wall at the tops and bottoms of the frames blocked the windows. Their building had been exempt from raids and homicidal idiots the last three years. "Check the straps. Mom refuses to shoot a gun, and if you're not sticking around, she's left with words only."
He rolled his eyes and watched her wipe down the counter. "You like purging?"
She shook her head, tossed the wet sponge in the sink and quickly dried the counter. "You're still a baby." Ruffling his hair, she moved to the living room to continue the cleaning spree.
Their mother cleaned on Purge Night, then watched her favorite movies while cooking a dinner they would eat the following morning. She prayed for everyone's safety before going to bed around 11 pm, often to wake up every couple hours to check on him. Ben would miss that, although he'd never admit that to anyone.
"I'm not a baby."
"Yes, you are. The only reason I was out on the streets the first year was because Lily and Ray ditched me and Crazy Eddie ordered his idiots to stalk me. I wasn't going to lead them back to our front door. Mom is anti-violence. You know that." She stopped and crossed her arms. "And don't you dare tell Mom I just said that."
He winked.
"I mean it. She thought I survived that night while hiding." She shook a finger at him. "Not. One. Word."
"I'm going with you."
She threw her hand up in the air and snagged her hockey mask off the coat hook next to front door. Three hours from now she'd join Rory, and he would tag along. Finally!
He picked up his cell phone off the side table crammed between the couch and wall. A series of texts containing 'It was good to know you, bro.' and 'I love you.' streamed in from his friends and family members. "You never smile afterwards."
"You've never shot a person before." She remarked under her breath and flipped him the middle finger. "Don't you have something to watch or do before death hovers at the door?"
He grinned. "That's what we have you for." He gestured to her wildly.
"Not if I die." She reminded him smartly.
They moved down the short hallway to her bedroom on the right. An orange furball brushed against his leg as soon as the door opened a sliver. His sister leaned down to pick up the family cat, who favored his sister more than anyone else. He stepped back and waited for her to enter the cramped bedroom.
"Are you going to kill Rory?"
She raised a brow at him as she scratched Butterball behind the ears. "Don't you have something to do before the horn blows?" Butterball purred into her hand, pressing his face and nose against her repeatedly.
"Cali, please." He pressed his palms together and begged.
"Why would I kill my friend? Because of Dipwad? Ha! That idiot doesn't know the meaning of loyalty. She made a mistake, not a bullet-worthy mistake." She pressed her forehead to Butterball's and put him on her lap.
He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, almost a male model for a clothing line if he put on a few muscular abs and tanned. "So you're just going to let her fu-"
"Obviously I owe her a favor for revealing his true character, Ben. Mom didn't like him either, and Mom's usually right about people." His sister anguished.
Butterball climbed out of her arms and snaked toward Ben. He clucked his tongue at the full grown male cat and pet the attention whore on his furry head.
Brushing orange hairs off her black clothing, Callisto shook her head. "What are you going to do with the machete? You hid it under your bed half the year. You're lucky I didn't tell Mom about it." She gestured at him and talked like their mother – well intentioned nagging.
He sighed. "How did you find out?"
"I dropped by the assisted living home last year and helped fend off Crazy Eddie. You know – the idiot who burned down several houses by catching a shed on fire with fireworks?" He gestured that he understood and for her to hurry up with the explanation. "Tommy's mother works there and she told me you bought his machete. He died last year, Ben. He wasn't ready for the streets and neither are you."
He opened his mouth to argue with her and stopped. "Why isn't Layla helping this year?" She retrieved a red notebook scarred with permanent marker and pen marks from inside her side dresser drawer. He reached for it and she yanked it back out of his arm length.
"She's pregnant." She looked up from the now open notebook as she scanned her notes and observations. "It's going to be ugly out there. You'll need the proper clothing-"
He nodded eagerly.
Her face fell. "You have basic body armor." Of course he had basic body armor! Why wouldn't he prepare for this night?
He nodded again. "You're a legend."
"Only to a few." She blushed. "Get your ass over here and study these notes. They may save your life tonight."
Granting him the bed space, Callisto moved her clothing and laid out everything with the body armor that survived last year. Old blood stained her boots. She tossed a pack of gel soles onto the bed and searched for scissors before trimming the soles and fitting them to the boots.
"I'm going to shower. Once it hits 6 pm your ass is dressed, armed and ready to protect this street. I have my handgun and Darling. Rory packs a shotgun and two smaller hand guns. If all you have is Tommy's machete, you'll need to be more careful than us. Hopefully tonight is quiet." She instructed as if reading from a manual.
He watched her exit the bedroom with a sports bra, boy shorts underwear, biker shorts, and black cargo pants. "Why so many layers?" He asked.
She poked her head into the room. "More layers to rip off if someone tries to…you know…"
Rape. She wanted to say the word rape, mouthing it instead of speaking it as to not alarm their mother. Digging his nose deeper into the notes, Ben wished he hadn't asked. That wouldn't stop a rapist. Abortions and babies born 9 months after this night were an infamous occurrence. He liked to believe that the abortions stemmed from failed birth control rather than rape.
Only when he heard the bathroom door close and water running did he breathe easier. Butterball cozied up to him and lay at his side. Tonight was going to be a long night.
Callisto
Hot water poured down her body in soothing cleansing of the crimes she committed in the past and would commit tonight. She expected Ben to want to purge with her. She didn't expect to plot duct taping him to a chair to keep him from leaving the apartment. Even more astonishing their mother hadn't tried to stop him!
Last year their mother locked Ben into his bedroom when he tried to sneak out. Thankfully last year had been more quiet than the year before. The year before it exploded in popularity among rapists and thieves. The murderers contained their malicious disease until last year when people laid out traps and tracked down people they had a grudge against.
This year she prayed she didn't die.
She learned to never look at people's faces. A person could be your neighbor and outright stab you on this night without a shred of remorse. Your best friend. Wife. Sister. Cousin. Co-worker. Someone you grew up with since five years old. Anybody turned into a threat this night and trust defined how you spent the night.
She trusted Rory to not shoot her in the back. She trusted Ben to not stab her in the back. She trusted Layla. She trusted her mother.
Everyone else – they were the enemy.
Why the fuck did Layla have to become pregnant?
She pressed her palm to the wall and breathed. She didn't understand how people could be easy this close to 7 pm. It hurt to breathe sometimes, and the only way to calm down was to curl up with Butterball and lay in silence until time to act. Usually Rory and Layla showed up early to chit chat about everything to include their sex lives. Marlene Carter had a cup of coffee with all of them and muse back to the day the Purge didn't exist and people struggled in a different manner. Often enough Layla agreed with their mother that Purge night wasn't necessary. Rory's bloodlust got to her head sometimes, but generally Rory's loyalty never worried Callisto.
Until tonight. They started speaking again less than two months ago, and their relationship was still on the rocks.
Fuck Rory.
Sighing deeply, she turned the hot water off and stepped out of the shower a new person.
Bloody Callisto prepared to face the world.
She reentered her bedroom to find Ben casually flipping through the pages of carefully gathered notes. Everyone in the local area knew who she, Rory, and Layla were on Purge night after last year's epic defense of the assisted living home. The mask helped her feel better about protecting her home and the people she loved. Her eyes flew toward the small round clock on the bedroom wall.
6:15.
"Better get dressed." She warned him. "Start practicing with that machete in your bedroom."
He nodded, a distant look in his eyes. "Anything else I should do?"
"Pray."
He took the red notebook with him and closed the door behind him. Towel drying her hair, she let her thoughts wander who would be on the streets and if her ex would hunt her down. She dropped him after she learned he had sex with her friend while they were both drunk. She learned of the drug dealing through one of her classmates who let it slip – on purpose or by accident she did not know nor cared.
Layering on the long sleeve, then the short sleeve, she sat on the bed and adapted to the weight of the layers before flexing and stretching. Fully dressing and unearthing her weapons from underneath the bed, she laid out the black wooden box on the bed and flipped it open after shifting Butterball onto her pillow.
A thoroughly cleaned handgun lodged in soft foam cut to fit the pieces gleamed under the yellowed light leaking through a dirty light fixture. She assembled the weapon by muscle memory and placed it carefully on the covers. Darling, a short sword with the word Darling carved into its handle, saved her from a rape on her first night of the Purge. She never adventured outside on Purge night without it.
Grateful she lived in a town that bordered a city, they never faced too much heat. Breathing deeply, she equipped the weapons.
6:30.
A whole half hour. The door bell rang.
"It's Rory!" Her mother called out into the apartment.
Excellent. She installed her game face and retrieved her brother.
He wore considerably less than her and smiled ear to ear. Flashing her a thumbs up, he flexed the sharpened machete too eagerly for her liking. She prayed he never followed the path of bloodshed. Not everyone desired peace and prosperity, and killing people created addicts. "Tonight – no funny business. Okay?" She jerked her finger between herself and him. He nodded quickly, as if stating he understood, and adjusted the strap on his body armor – a vest, padding, and a neck guard. Admittedly a neck guard was the one piece of armor Layla swore by.
Mind on survival and the Purge night chaos a half hour away, she faced her friend in the living room. Their mother returned from a friend's apartment in time for her nightly routine to start. She and Rory exchange pleasant greetings before speaking about Rory's job application for a government position.
Callisto breathed deeply, resolved to not be upset about Rory sleeping with Danny, and grimaced. Rory waved cheerfully, defying the gravity of the night's evil energy.