To Hell and Back

(Wrote for fun. All characters are over 18)

To Hell and Back

There was trash in piles in the hallway. The stairwell smelled of piss. The only paint that wasn't pealing had come from a spray can.

Looking down I watched the huge rat waddle past. It paid me no mind at all, completely unafraid. Mind you, I've had smaller dogs so maybe it was right to not be afraid.

There were angry voices from the apartment next to the one I was looking for.

Gunshots in the distance. Sound of an ambulance or maybe a firetruck even more distant.

Standing for a moment, I looked at the tarnished brass numbers on the door. Looking to my left, I saw that someone had taken a can of red spray paint and written "whore" on the wall with an arrow pointing to this door.

The door handle turned without resistance. When I pushed the door I felt a weight against it. I had to really lean into it to get it to move at first. Stepping through the opening, I saw my sister leaning against her front door, passed out.

"Becca?"

Only silence answered me.

Squeezing past, letting the door close back, I instinctively locked it. Kneeling down, I looked my sister over. She was dressed in torn nylons and scuffed red shoes. Her skirt was mostly see-through lace and the rest was red vinyl. A gold belt and a gold tube top completed the outfit. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of her. Old sweat, stale perfume, old sex musk. Piss.

"Becca?"

I gave her shoulder a shake, she swatted at me, and grumbled a barely audible "Go Away..."

Standing up, I gave my sister's apartment a look. If anything it was worse than the hallway outside had led me to believe it would be. An old trash smell made the small kitchen unbearable. The living room, if it could be called that, was filled with a million variety of clutter. A pathway led to a bedroom and a small bathroom.

Leaning down, I moved my arms under her knees and behind her back and with a small grunt lifted my sister from the floor. She leaned lifeless into my chest with a bare murmur of protest.

Carrying her across the room, dodging past trash and detritus, I placed her on the end of her bed. She flopped like an empty sack, boneless. With a sigh, I began to get Becca out of her filthy clothing. Tossing it into the piles around the bed, not caring what went where.

If not for my time spent time in the military - surrounded by far worse human smells - the reek of her unwashed body would have been beyond nauseating.

Leaving her in the tube top and panties I went to the bathroom and found a washcloth that - while it wasn't clean - wasn't beyond redemption. The two thin towels in the room were a lost cause but I found a clean-ish cotton shirt by the bedroom door that would work for a towel.

Holding my breath long enough to find an unused and extremely dusty pan in the kitchen, I filled it in the bathroom sink and, with a bit of soap, began to give my sister's thin body a slow going over.

"God, Becca ... what have you done to yourself?"

I was debating removing the last of her clothes and cleaning the rest of her when there came a pounding on the apartment door.

"Open up, bitch, rent is due!"

An eye on the alarm clock by the bed told me it was close to midnight.

Again the heavy fist on the door.

"Bitch, don't make me knock on this damn door again!"

Crossing through the cluttered living room, my right hand went to the small of my back. When I unlocked the door with my left hand I turned the knob a large man pushed it open as I expected him to. He stopped when my 1911 Colt 45 barrel about broke his front teeth out.

"Whoever you are. Whatever you want. Walk away or die," there was ice in my voice.

His hands eased away from his body slowly. His eyes were wide as dinner plates. For a half second, he tried to look past me, then he refocused on me as my thumb clicked back the hammer.

Backing up a step, he made to speak but I shook my head and gestured with the gun for him to go.

He went.

Locking the door back, I moved back into the room where my sister was passed out on the bed. She had not moved since I left her, dead to the world. Clicking the safety on my pistol, I holstered it and went back to taking care of her.

The vomit-covered halter top and the piss-smelling panties I tossed into the bathroom.

It was an hour of washing her with the rag later before I accepted that she was as clean as I could make her without putting her in the shower. I now knew far more about my sister's anatomy than any brother should know, but I was not even in the least aroused by her nudity. The bruised skin of her ass, the dark purple-green marks of fingers around her wrists, ankles and throat. Sores from what were clearly cigarette burns.

There was nothing about her that was erotic. Pathetic, pitiable, and heart-rending, yes. Absolutely yes.

Covering Becca with a sheet that was not by any means cleaner than anything else in the place, I got to my feet, looked around at the mess, and - with a sigh - went to work.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Stepping back inside my sister's apartment from taking the trash bags to the overflowing dumpster in the parking lot, I was not surprised to see that she hadn't moved while I was going. I was betting it would be noon before she slept off the drunk she was under.

People had watched me the whole way out and back. The morning pale reddish glow giving faces a demonic look. None made any moves toward me, they simply watched. Not even the big guy from earlier who I saw standing at the other end of the parking lot with a few other guys his size and general thuggish demeanor. For a moment one looked like he was going to but the big guy stopped him with a hand on his arm.

I looked back at their antagonistic gazes with a calm acceptance that I would have to kill a few of them before the day was over. That cold uncaring look seemed to make them reconsider.

For now at least.

The apartment wasn't clean, nothing short of a four-alarm fire would achieve that, but it was clean to the point I would consider sitting down on something.

A murmur from the bedroom drew my attention.

Sitting on the back of the couch, I watched my sister crawl out of bed naked and stumble into her bathroom. A rill of sound soon followed. Leaving the toilet un-flushed, Becca staggered back out, looked over at me with no recognition, then more or less fell in the direction of her bed. Getting up, I walked over and helped her to not be hanging half off the bed. I covered her back up, ignoring her attempts at lewd drunken seduction.

"Sleep, little sister. Sleep."

With a mumble of disappointment, she passed back out.

Walking to the bathroom, I flushed the toilet.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

The rhythmic knock on the door woke me. I was sitting up on my sister's couch with my gun in my hand facing the doorway. The half dose I was in was old hat to me.

Again the knock. "Shave and a haircut?"

With a smile, I got to my feet, went to the door, and tapped "Two Bits."

Opening the door, I grinned at my Army buddy John.

He looked left and right and gave me an amused grin. "Nice place. Here, I'm leaving before I catch something Ivory soap won't wash off."

I took the two bags he handed me with a thank you.

"Need me to hang?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I'm good. The local color is a bit skittish. But they only seem to be restless after dark."

He grinned a mouth full of teeth. "SSDD, huh?"

"Always."

John took another look around checking his six. "Well, call me if there looks to be a dust-up. I'll let a few others know and we can all come play."

I gave him a fist bump. "Hooah!"

I watched him till he reached his battered old Jeep. Not that I needed to. Nothing this side of the Taliban was crazy enough to even look side-wise at John's crazy ass.

Mind you he would have said the same thing about me.

Locking the door back, I walked to the kitchen. Six hours of work had it at least clean enough to eat in, if not off of. One bag, still warm, was filled with sausage and or bacon biscuits. The other was a variety of pharmaceuticals and the first-aid type crap that I had asked for.

Leaving the food for now, I went to my sister's bedroom with the other bag in hand.

Amazingly and predictably, touching an alcohol wipe to a raw cigarette burn will wake up even my dead drunk half-stoned sister.

"OW! You fuck, knock that shit off!" She swatted at my hand. "Fucking creep...." My sister flopped over in the bed presenting me with her bare ass. "Do that shit again ... fucker... I'll straight razor your fucking ass."

Reaching into the bag, I pulled out the purple and yellow box of Hirudoid cream, opened it, and squirted a handful into my palm. Warming it between my hands, I began to massage it into her bruised ass.

Becca gave a low moan. "Okay, that's nice. Hey! No backdoor stuff, you fucker. Still sore."

"Not a problem, I was always a tits and blowjob kind of guy." My spread wide hand road across both of her butt cheeks as I massaged in the bruise cream. "Not that this isn't one of the finest examples of the female derriere I've ever come across, sis."

For a moment Becca lay silent, then she moved a bit and looked back over her shoulder. I watched my sister's eyes trying to focus on my face. "Jordan?"

I gave a smile as I kept rubbing lotion into her bruised butt. "All day and twice on Tuesday, sis."

"Jordan!"

With a spin, Becca spun over and sat up till she was inches from my face looking at me in wonder. Her eyes blinked like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Still me. Ya, hungry? I got breakfast delivered." I jerked my thumb towards the kitchen. "Just biscuits, but it's pretty much as many as you want. I think John got like twenty."

"What.. what ... what are you doing here? How did you find me?" She paused and looked under the sheet wrapping her. "Why am I naked?"

I put the cap back on the cream and stuck it back in the bag. "Which one you want me to answer first?"

She began to look around frantically, then seeing the clock became even more frantic. "My phone? Where is my phone?"

"Didn't see it. I cleaned up a little bit, but it never turned up. You might have lost it or left it somewhere." I rolled up onto my feet. "You still want those questions answered or do you want some food first?"

She staggered off the bed clutching the sheet to her. "I've got to find my phone. "Kenny will kill me! What are you doing here?"

I paused a moment, then decided to make it as quick as I could. "Mom is dead. She had a stroke."

My sister paused looking at me for all of four seconds then began to look frantically for her phone again. "My phone, where is my phone? What happened to all of my shit?" She looked at me demanding answers.

"The trash is in the dumpster outside. Your clothes are in the closet, washed - except for what I couldn't figure out how to wash. I left those in your laundry room in a trash bag by the washer. Becca, did you hear me? Mom died."

"Yeah, yeah. I got to call Kenny!" My sister spun in a circle and then focused on me. "Your phone! Give me your phone! I.. I think I remember the number." She lunged at me trying to grab at my belt for the phone there. "I've got to call him. Oh, fuck he is going to kill me!"

Handing her my phone I watched her for a moment trying to remember the number, Then she began to try random numbers till, frustrated, she threw it at the wall beside me. I caught it out of the air before it went past me. My sister then began to snatch up clothes and - uncaring about being nude - dropped the sheet and began to get dressed.

"I've got to find him. I've got to find him!"

"Tall guy, tattoo of a scorpion on his neck?" I touched by my nose. "Teardrop here?"

Becca spun to look at me, her boobs swinging. "Yes! You saw him? He was here? Kenny was here? When? When was he here? Jordan, damn it, when was he fucking here?"

I set the bag with the OTC painkillers and bandages by the bathroom. "About midnight and I saw him still in the parking lot around dawn." My eyes went to her bare breasts. "You might want to put a shirt on before going outside, it's a bit chilly."

With a sound of exasperation, she turned away from me looking for a shirt. I moved over and opened her closest showing here where I had put them.

"Oh, god he's going to kill me." She kept muttering the whole time she dressed. Then she looked at me puzzled. "Why are you here, Jordan?"

"Mom died."

She waved that aside. "Yeah, yeah, but why are you here?"

Moving in a seemingly random way while picking up a few things, which although she didn't notice allowed me to block her access to the door, I stopped and looked back at her. "You and I are the last of our family. I've made some calls, talked to some old family friends, and confirmed it."

She shook her head. "We have cousins, Tim and Billy. Jennifer and Melody. Scott."

I shook my head. "No. They have all passed away in the last four years. Accident, or illness for the most part, although Scott was killed. Melody took her own life."

For a moment my sister looked stunned at that, she and Melody had been close childhood friends, then gave a small shrug. "It happens." She tugged her shirt down and looked around for something. "Still why are you here?"

"You and your well-being are now my responsibility, sis." I looked around at the still-dirty apartment. "And this is unacceptable. You're coming with me."

She stood there looking at me stunned.

"I'm going to make a call and some friends of mine are going to come and pack all this up." I looked over the tattered furniture. "Although a good bit we can leave. You might want to pack an overnight bag. It will take a while for the truck to get to South Dakota."

"South Dakota? What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not fucking going to fucking South Dakota!" She moved towards me. "Get out the way, I've got to go find Kenny and pay him. Oh, fuck he is going to kill me. Move!"

"No!"

She went to push me out of the way. "I said move!"

I caught both of her hands in one of mine.

"And I said no." Spinning her around by her shoulders as easily as if she was a tiny child, I plopped her butt down on the couch and crouched down in front of her, looking into her eyes. "You are mine. My sister. My family. The last of us still above the flowers. You are going to go where I say, do what I say, and when I say it. At least till I'm sure that you can take care of yourself better than what I can see here. And from the way I found you last night that could be years from now." I grimaced. "Get a shower while I call my friends to come pack up. You still stink despite me trying to clean you up."

She looked down. "You stripped me naked? You!"

"You vomited and pissed yourself. I cleaned you up." I looked over her filthy hair, disgust written on my face. "How much do you owe this Kenny?"

She looked at me puzzled. "Four hundred and fifty. I'm not fucking going to South Dakota!"

"You will go. If you have to go kicking and screaming in the sack you are tied in, you will go. Because I said you are going to go." I stood up and looked down at her. "Now, Becca, go get a shower. Use soap. Use shampoo. I washed towels while you slept. Use one. There will be clean clothes on your bed when you get out."

She went to surge up at me. I caught my sister, spun her, and with a hard hand placed three quick spanks on her already bruised ass. She came up onto her toes after the first one and was squealing by the third.

"Do as you are told." I brought her back around to face me and casually caught the hand she swung at my face. "You wish to act like a child, therefor I shall treat you like a child. Willful and spoiled, and incapable of taking care of yourself."

Taking her by a firm grip on the hair at the back of her head, I walked my sister - while she tried to kick and strike at me - to the bathroom. It took me only a moment to have the shirt back off of her and the thin shorts she was wearing at her ankles. I held her at arm's length while I turned on the water, ignoring her attempts to claw at my arm and chest. The moment it ran warm I scooped her up under her arms and stood Becca in the water.

"Bathe." I handed her the soap, then put it back in her hand when my sister went to throw it at me. "Or do I have to bathe you myself?"

She spit at me. "Get the fuck out of my apartment! You fuck!"

Leaving her to her bath, I made my way out the door, cracked it open, and looked around. I saw the group from earlier standing close to my truck. Kenny however did not seem to be there. Taking my 45 out, I switched off the safety and then put it back. Stepping outside I walked down the trash-covered steps. I was halfway down when I saw one of them dig out a phone. Good.

As I walked up I looked at him. "Did you call Kenny? Good, I don't have all day."

Hearing an apartment door open behind me I turned and, walking quickly, met him just a half dozen steps out of his door and a goodly distance from his friends. As I closed that distance, his eyes went wide. My pistol cleared its holster and - using its barrel to push him - I moved him back into his own apartment. I kicked the door shut behind me.

"Kenny, right?"

"Who the fuck do you think you are? I'll fucking kill your dumb ass. I was a 'shot caller' in Chino you dumb fuck! " He made to swipe at my gun but it wasn't there anymore. His eyes dropped to the floor as I tossed five one hundred dollar bills at his feet.

My back against the door that was now being pounded on I leveled my gun at him. "There. Paid in full. In an hour a box truck will be pulling up out front. The seven men with it are all Special Forces, the same as me. All will be armed. Including the sniper you won't see. A few hours from now we will pull out, and Becca will be going with us. This will be the last time you see her. This will be the last time you talk to her. If she calls you, you will hang up and block the number. If at any point I learn that you have not done this I will come back, shoot your knees out and leave you in this shit hole with the room on fire. Do we have an understanding Kenny?"

For a second I saw fear in his eyes, then his anger came back. "That's my whore, fucker! She's Mine. And her skank ass is worth a lot more than five damn bills."

I thumbed back the hammer. "To me she is. To you..." I gave a small shrug. "She's a death sentence. What is that worth, Kenny?"

He sneered. "You won't kill me over some whore."

I smiled. "She's my sister. Think I won't kill you over family, Kenny boy?" I gave him a lunatic grin.

Stepping to the side, I turned the handle just as I felt a shoulder hit the door. Two men piled in and fell sprawled on the floor at Kenny's feet. The third stumbled in but kept his feet till he tripped over the other two and crashed into Kenny taking them both down in a pile by the sofa.

"Remember what I said Kenny boy. Know a bargain when you hear it."

Closing the door behind me as I stepped out, I walked up the steps to my sister's apartment making calls as I went. John, of course, gave me shit for making him turn around and come back. I would have to buy him a six-pack to make it up. Not that the cheap shit he drank would cost me much.

Becca threw a coffee pot at me when I stepped back inside her apartment.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Kenny and his boys did make a reappearance about midway through loading up my sister's things. For a second they even looked like they might want to cause trouble till I pointed to the middle of his chest. Like a bright red bug, the red dot of a laser scope was center mass over his heart and he went white as a ghost. He barked an order to his buddies and they hot-footed it to a car and then vanished out of the parking lot with a barked tire and a puff of tire smoke behind their shitty white 80's Caprice.