Jay showed Max the map. There was a map of the graveyard on the website that actually showed the graves listed by dates and categories. Max had never heard of such a thing. It was bizarre and even more bizarre that anyone could just look that up. Why did a graveyard need a damn website? It was beyond strange, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Ok, it looks like they are all spread all over. I’m going to start on the northeast end and you start on the southwest side. We will just work our way up until we meet each other. That way we can cover the most ground,” Max said.
“Cool,” Jay replied. He quickly copied and pasted the link to a text message and sent it to Max. Then he headed off on his own end.
Max quickly pulled up the link from the text and began marching to the northeast end of the cemetery. As he walked he noticed how huge the place looked. It was going to take the both of them a long time to find out where their friend was. Dammit. Were they actually supposed to succeed at this? What if the whole thing was some bizarre set up and this psycho was just trying to get them to make a stupid mistake? He knew that Jay was thinking the same thing right about then.
Max reached the last row and began jogging up and down the rows looking for anything that showed a grave being disturbed. Surely it would be easy to spot. If he’d put her in the ground they should have been able to easily see loose dirt piled up somewhere. But so far he was finding nothing at all as he moved from aisle to aisle.
He was practically running at this point, but not fast enough that he was apt to miss something. The grave was dark and even with the flashlight from his phone he was having problems seeing everything, which forced him to slow down a bit. He had to force himself to slow down while every fiber in his being demanded that he go faster so that he could get to her in time.
It was starting to feel completely futile. He could see Jay not far from him running up and down the other rows of graves, getting closer to him and neither one of them had found anything yet. They were really only stopping to check out the graves that the map showed as matching the date of 1888 that they were looking for, so it was going much faster than Max thought it might. Still, he was starting to think that they’d missed something entirely.
“I didn’t find anything,” Jay said as he came jogging up his row.
“Me either. What did we miss?” Max asked.
Jay thought a moment, but neither of them was coming up with anything. Max stood there staring at his phone and the map of the graves, panting and sweating profusely. He just didn’t know what it could have been. He knew that they did not miss anything from what was on the map. Maybe it would have been better to just run through slowly enough to check the date on every single grave? But even then they should have seen something disturbed on the ground. It was generally pretty easy to spot a tampered grave, wasn’t it? At least it was in the movies.
Max looked at the map again and as he did so a thought sprang into his head.
“What if we were looking at the wrong date?” Max asked.
“No way. Those murders happened in 1888,” Jay replied.
“Yea, but what if that wasn’t the event we were supposed to be looking at?”
“What are you getting at?” Jay asked.
“What if it wasn’t when the murders started or the graves of people who died then? What if it was the year people were born?”
“Ok, that makes sense. Let’s split up and search those graves.”
Max and Jay both did another search on the website this time for graves marked with birthdates of the year 1888 and then jogged back up and down the rows, eyes staring on the map, stopping when they came to those graves. It was taking longer for some reason; Max saw that the graves were fewer and farther between.
He was about halfway through his section when he noticed something. If he had not been specifically looking for the gravestones of people born in that year then he would not have seen it. One of the people born in the year 1888 was named Joe Whitechapel. The Jack the Ripper murders started in White Chapel. And this man died in 1976. He was 88 years old. And as Max got close enough he could see that the grass by the headstone was pulled back slightly. Upon closer inspection he realized that it wasn’t grass at all; it was in fact artificial turf that had been matted down over top of loose dirt.
“Jay! I found it!” Max yelled.
He began to frantically pull back the artificial turf. After it was out of the way he started to dig it up as fast as he could with the shovel. Jay arrived just moments later and joined in, the two of them making record time. Max was feeling a sinking feeling coming over him as they dug. They were managing only to dig away more and more dirt and reveal nothing. This was supposed to be a shallow grave. How deep did this maniac consider shallow to be?
Finally his shovel struck something hard and this propelled him to move faster and faster. Jay joined his enthusiasm. Their friend had to be alive. She just had to be alive. Max was praying to everything that he had ever held dear and sacred to let this girl be alive. Please don’t let us be too late!
“Hurry!” Jay yelled.
Max moved as fast as he could, uncovering the dirt from the box that was now being exposed. The box was finally unearthed enough that they were able to open it up.
Jay threw down the shovel and grabbed the lid and began to jerk it open with a loud grunt. Max helped. The lid was much heavier and stiffer than he had imagined it to be. It was like lifting a loaded bar bell off the floor from where they were standing.
With one final grunt the boys managed to open the coffin, the lid finally springing open forcefully with a loud creaking sound. The box smelled of pine and dirt, mixed with dampness. It smelled like a creepy cellar to Max.
They hopped out from behind the lid.
Max held his breath as his eyes beheld the sight of Joely Turner.
She was very much dead.
In fact she looked as if she’d been dead for several hours. Her throat had been slashed. The killer was just playing a game with them now.
It was a game that they had no possibility of winning.
Max and Jay just looked at each other, fear and doubt in their eyes.
What the hell was next?
Chapter 4
“Salt of the Earth”
“According to forensics Joely Turner was in that coffin for the past twelve hours, dead,” Gellar said as she leaned against the side of a police car.
Max and Jay were sitting on the hood, both of them almost too shocked to speak. The police showed up about five minutes after they’d discovered Joely’s body. They showed Gellar the email and she said that they would try to see if they could get a lock on the IP address it came from. But Max knew that was a fat chance; that sort of stuff was way too easy to mask nowadays for even someone with very basic computer knowledge. Besides someone who planned things out this way was definitely not going to be outdone that way.
“I don’t get this. It’s like we are living in a horror movie,” Jay said. He and Joely had never really been that close, but Max could tell that there was something deeper there. They were both frustrated, angry, and feeling like total pawns but Jay seemed to be taking Joely’s death a bit more personal than he probably should have. Max was wondering if he had a thing for her or if they might have actually hooked up once or twice. Knowing Jay it was highly probable.
“Well, maybe you are,” Gellar said.
“What do you mean?” Jay asked.
“This person might very well be deranged enough to think that he is part of a real life horror movie. Something in your movie set him off and now he is acting out a script or a fantasy he has in his head.”
“That’s messed up. It was just a movie. It was just a damn horror movie we made,” Jay said.
“That might be all it was supposed to be and all it is to most people, but so far we have now idea who this guy or girl is.”
“No way could this be a woman,” Jay said.
“Don’t be too sure; the mad have strength,” Max said.
“Not that much strength,” Jay replied.
“You would be surprised what someone in a total psychotic break can do. People say we only use ten percent of our brains but we also only use about fifty percent of our strength. Under times of great stress, such as a psychological break with reality, one can muster enough adrenaline and push themselves far beyond normal capacity,” Gellar said.
Max found himself smiling at her. She was so damn sexy, especially when she was explaining things. The second the thought crossed his mind Max felt guilty. Another one of his friends had just been butchered. What the hell was wrong with him?
“So, let’s go over this again,” Gellar said. “He gave you every possible clue to find the body, but he set up a game that was basically unwinnable because the game had already been won hours earlier?”
“Yep, and we fell right into it. We must look retarded,” Max said.
“That’s not your fault. He has the upper hand in that situation. You can’t really ignore him. You have no choice but to believe he will do what he says in that situation and you have to hope that your friend is alive and you can make it in time. Beating yourself up over it because he fooled you does not accomplish anything. You just have to dust yourselves off and get back up to ride again,” Gellar replied.
Jay shook his head. “The metaphors and Dr. Phil speeches are really not helping me right now.”
“Hey, come on—“ Max said.
“No. This is bullshit. Why aren’t they able to find this asshole and put a stop to this before he kills everyone we know? Hell it might even be us next. What the hell are our tax dollars paying for?”
Jay hopped off the car and stormed off, walking away from the cemetery down the dark street. Max wanted to call him back and remind him how stupid it might be to go walking around like that at a time like this, but he thought better of it. The man needed to just learn for himself.
“I’m sorry about him,” Max said. “He gets really pissy when he is scared.”
“I know. I’ve done this enough to have seen all the different ways that people handle grief and fear. He is strong though; I’m sure he will be ok.”
“Yea, thanks. So, what’s the next step in the investigation? I know there aren’t really any clues or leads. I doubt you will be able to trace anything to this guy. Or girl.”
“Well, I’ve been researching all the buzz feed online about your movie. So far it is getting a lot of great press and people are loving it. But of course with this real life adaptation taking place it is either going to blow up even bigger or it is going to sabotage the whole thing. That might be what this person is hoping to accomplish.”
“Why would they want to sabotage our movie? If they don’t like it can’t they just not watch it again?” Max said. He immediately realized how stupid what he just said was and buried his face in his hands for a second. It was fairly obvious that the killer didn’t just have a strong dislike for the movie. There was something pathological there happening.
“Wish it was that easy,” Gellar said. “But apparently he has taken quite the shine to you.”
“That’s the creepiest part of all this, actually. He hasn’t done anything to hurt us; it’s just our friends. We are the ones responsible for the movie being made. Why not just kill us and get it over with?” Max asked.
“Right. That is why I believe there has to be some sort of a personal vendetta. He doesn’t want to kill you guys or he would have done it already. He wants to drive you nuts, scare you, torture you, and shock you so that you do something that he wants.”
“What the hell does he want? He hasn’t even mentioned anything. He just wants us to keep playing his little game.”
“I’m sure he will tell you what he wants when the time is right. Maybe he wants you to make his movie. Maybe he wants you to tell his story. Or maybe he is delusional and thinks he really is Jack the Ripper and he was not portrayed correctly in your film.”
“The movie isn’t even about the real Jack the Ripper. It is a fictionalized version. Anyone who has watched the movie can see that.”
Gellar moved to the spot on the hood of the police car where Jay had been sitting. She was very close to Max now and he felt himself getting hot. She was so damn sexy. And she smelled amazing. Even the sound of her breathing was getting him worked up a bit. He desperately wanted a cold shower right then.
“Where did you get the original inspiration for this movie? It was your script? Or did you and Jay write it together?” Gellar asked.
Max tried to breathe naturally. “Well, Jay brought the original idea to me. He said he had an idea for a script and then he banged it out in a long weekend, working around the clock. I was impressed as hell. As soon as I tore into his first draft I could not put the thing down. It was a great story with an awesome idea and a hook. The build was right; the pace was right. It was a story that we could tell on a limited budget with very minimal effects.”
“He never told you where he got the idea?” Gellar asked.
“He said he woke up with it one day. He didn’t say he dreamt it or anything, but he said the idea was in his head and was over by the time he finished making himself breakfast.”
“That’s a great tale in and of itself,” Gellar said.
“Yea. We’ve been asked that in interviews a few times, and it always makes for a great story to tell people, but that is what happened. Why did you ask?” Max asked.
“Well, I was just curious. Do you have an idea for the next movie you do?”
Max rolled his eyes. “Hell, I’m not sure there will be a next one. With all that is happening now because of this movie, it would be pretty damn irresponsible for us to get behind the camera again anytime soon.”
“I can see your point on that, but you can’t let this scare you off. That gives the perpetrator too much power. If you allow him to push you around and destroy your lives then you are letting him win in a sense.”
Max thought for a moment. “I guess you are right, but who knows if we even survive this? I have to sound like a total wuss right now, but I’m pretty scared.”
“It’s understandable. Look, we will have cops stationed outside of your homes around the clock until this guy is caught. Nothing will happen to you.”
Max smiled at her. “Thanks.”
“You know, your smile is rather infectious,” Gellar said giving him a wink.
Max could not help but smile wider.
***
Max closed the door to his bedroom and began to get undressed. It had been a day from hell and a half and all he wanted right then was to get some damn sleep. It was not even that late, but his body was ready to crash. He felt like he had just run five miles while suffering with a bout of the flu. He had actually done something that stupid once when he was on his high school cross country running team. He’d had the flu all week, but the coming Saturday was the big meet against their school rivals Warren Prep and his team was counting on his skinny ass to win. Max had always been fast and slender, but often had to ask people to open jars for him. He had worked out diligently for almost two years by the time he stepped out onto the starting line of that meet, but he was still as wiry as ever.
He could remember it like it was yesterday. He was running along feeling ok, but still challenged and fatigued. He was leading the pack, but not by his usual margin and he knew the other guys were holding back hoping to sprint the last bit of the race and overtake him. It was a fairly obvious strategy and one he never would have been bothered by if he was not sick.
But he pushed himself to out run them the entire way and when the other runners started to push hard he was so gassed out he could not kick it into another gear. He was about a mile from the finish line when he felt his whole body drifting into some sort of limbo state where he could feel every bead of sweat and every single nuance of every part of himself being amplified so that it
hurt. Even blinking hurt. He could recall that distinctly.
Before he knew it the world started to spin around him and the hard ground came up to meet him, hitting him hard in the face. But he barely remembered the pain of the ground because the second his face touched it the lights went out and he was in total darkness.
He awoke sometime later in the hospital. His fever had gone up to slightly over one hundred and four and they thought he might be ready to slip into a coma at one point. But luckily he came out of it and he was able to go home two days later.
It was a stupid thing to do. But he was sixteen and he thought he could do anything. He quickly proved how wrong he was. But it was still stupid. It was made even worse by the fact that he’d had diabetes since he was four years old. His blood sugar was completely out of whack that day and if he’d had the presence of mind to check it before he ate a quick breakfast and headed out he would have known this.
But you lived and you learned anyway.
Speaking of the devil, he thought as he sat down on the edge of his bed and grabbed his insulin kit. He had almost gone to bed without his insulin injection. He probably would have been fine and just done it in the morning, but he found that he slept better if he made sure to not miss his night dose.
Max could hear his friend Jay in the living room starting to watch a movie. He doubted if the man was watching anything scary; probably was watching some of the goofy comedies that Max had in his collection or maybe something on the Netflix queue. Which meant that Jay was probably tearing into a few drinks; he usually only watched funny stuff when he was a bit tipsy. It always made everything so much funnier he said. Max had to agree.
Jay was almost too chicken to admit it, but he did not want to go home. He wanted to stay with Max that night. That was fine with Max. It made him feel a bit safer too to have another person in the house, although he had two large pistol packing cops outside in a squad car anyway. He wondered what his neighbors were probably thinking. For some reason Max had lucked out and rented a house in a neighborhood where he was the youngest person living there by a good twenty years.
Cutting Room Page 4