I find out why I don’t like Sal very quickly. After a couple days of getting rested up, I have my first real run-in with him.
Katarina had made a pretty interesting, albeit quite tasty, concoction with our latest batch of canned goods and the three of us were munching away at it. I tell Katarina that it’s amazing how well she can make dinner, given the obvious scarcity of supplies. She chuckles nervously and then mumbles a quick ‘thanks’, then glances over at Sal, who nods approvingly.
‘What the fuck was that?’ is the only thing that I can think of. She needs HIS approval before taking a compliment? Oh this shit is going to be VERY interesting. I mean, I know I come across as a real dick sometimes, but I’ve never thought that a woman should be THAT submissive. Yeah I’ve had a few lady friends in my life, but none of them were that meek around me. Of all the people to be left surviving with, I’ve gotta get the chauvinist, and the battered wife.
I continue to eat my stew with a smile on my face, but I don’t think I’m doing a real good job of hiding my disgust with that whole thing. Sal looks at me with a smug grin and chows down on his food too. Katarina? All she does is stare down at her bowl; I think she realizes that I’m pretty pissed.
Dinner finishes up, and I offer to get the dishes. I can tell by the look on Sal’s face that he had no intention of doing them, and probably thinks a little less of me for offering. Oh well, once again a case of I-don’t-give-a-fuck sets in, and I get my hands all soapy and wet. Its really the LEAST I could do. I mean, they saved my ass from the same fate that has befallen ninety percent of mankind, so I’ll wash the damn dishes and have no second thoughts about it. Until we make our next trip out to restock on supplies, I’m just dead weight and a terrific way to deplete the rations quicker than usual.
I finish up the dishes and then slowly make my way to the main area that we all stay at. As I get closer, I hear grunting and heavy breathing. As I get even closer, I recognize the feral nature of those grunts, and I realize that it’s Sal making the noises. I peek around the corner and see Katarina bent over one of the beds and Sal behind her, thrusting himself around so hard that he’s bright red. I want to look away, I really NEED to look away, but I can see a puddle by Katarina’s face, and I realize that she’s not making any sounds because she’s sobbing silently into the bed sheet. Sal, in between breaths, mumbles obscenities to her and all I can really make it is that they are threatening words, and not necessarily dirty talk. What a cock this guy is, I think to myself.
I slowly and quietly backpedal into the kitchen and wait until Sal finishes up. As I’m sitting there, drinking a glass of the bottled water that we are rapidly getting low on, Sal walks in. Naked as the day he was born, he looks at me with that smug motherfucking smile and says “She’s mine, dipshit. Ain’t no way she’s leaving me for you, I saw to that shit” I respond with a restrained “yeah, I guess so” and stand up and walk past him. As I walk past, he makes a point to knock my shoulder and we have a brief moment where we glare at each other.
I get back out to where we sleep at and see that Katarina has made every effort to clean herself up, but her ear is still red, and is starting to swell badly. She doesn’t say a word, just looks at me timidly, and then lies down for the night.