by Brandon Enns
This is unfortunate.
He had to get to Steven and finish the job. His match with Officer Allen would have to be placed on hold. He seized the shotgun and loaded it while looking over his shoulder, waiting for the enemy. Is it Peters? He must be in the house. Eli heard a sound.
The elevator.
Gun raised, he walked down the long hall to the elevator, which was still on ground level. Maybe he had sent it back up, thought Eli. What if he already retrieved Adams?
When he arrived at the bottom, the fire still outlined the body of Steven Adams. He inched his way forward, preparing himself for an attack. They could have used him as bait. It would most likely go against protocol to use such a strategy, but if it was his formidable opponent Jennifer Allen, he expected such phlegmatic expertise.
No attack came. The fire crackled. When he arrived, Steven was still wide awake, sweat pouring down his face. His breaths quickened upon seeing Eli's face.
"Please. You don't have to set me free, just move me away from the fire. Please."
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"It's burning me, come on man! I'll do whatever you want. Just get me away from it."
"What distance would work best for you?"
"I dunno, just away from it!"
"You've perspired quite a lot." Eli sniffed from a watery nose. "Quite a lot," he said.
"Please."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be playing. I don't have time for this anymore, unfortunately. I believe I was simply jesting for sport earlier when I mentioned burning you alive. That would be a terrible way die. However, if I shoot you, it will make a loud noise, one that might not be concealed from upstairs. So I need something quick, and I need something quiet."
Eli grabbed hold of the table and rolled it even closer to the oven. Placing welding gloves on, he pulled out an extendable metal slide from the oven that was the same dimensions as the metal table that Steven lay on. He lifted Steven's head side off the table and leaned it up against the extension, "Stay still. If you squirm you'll fall flat on your face and we will have to start all over again. It wouldn't feel good, your face smashing into the concrete from this high up."
"No, no, no, Stop!"
"I won't tease. I'll immerse you immediately and close the door. The triple steel walls will hold in the screams. It will be unpleasant but won't take as long as you might assume."
"PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! Don't do this! I don't wanna die! Help! Help! Help!" His voiced cracked as he howled.
Eli clamped his hand down over his mouth and Steven tried to bite. "Should I remove your tongue and penis first?"
Steven fell silent and then spoke. "Just listen to me. Talk to anyone that knows me. I'm not this bad person you think I am...is this about what happened all those years ago? That wasn't my fault. I wanted no part of it. Who are you?"
"Time is not on our side, I'm afraid."
Steven started screaming again, louder this time. Eli jolted forward and punched him in the face. Steven's nose started to bleed onto Eli's hand, which was covering his mouth.
The last ounce of pleading came from Steven's sad eyes.
"Well, Steven, what do you expect? You can't just go messing up the order. You can't! The kind of position you put me in is more than unfair!" Eli removed his hand from Steven's mouth.
"What are you talking about?"
Eli sighed.
He positioned himself at the foot of the table and hoisted up, ready to slide Steven onto the extension, his head nearing the flames. As he started to slide Steven forward, he couldn't help but savor the moment. This was it. Oh, yes. The crackles of skin. Let this moment last forever. Steven was howling like a lunatic, his voice hoarse and drained.
"Shush now." He continued to slide him closer to the heat, the flames now almost touching his head, skin sizzling.
The red alarm flashed, and Eli jerked his head back to the corner by the elevator. Shit.
He paused, debating whether he should complete the process first and tend to it or go now...Officer Allen.
Eli pulled Steven's metal table back off of the extension and onto its four-leg base, latching it back in place.
Steven was trying to scream for help but his voice was gone. Eli choked him and held his other hand over his mouth. He leaned in close. "I will meet you in the middle. Not that your pitiful screams should be loud enough, but how about some duct tape? In exchange, I promise I will not burn you alive. Do you agree to the terms?"
Steven's tears rolled as he nodded yes. He shuffled over to a roll on the floor by the wall. He taped his mouth shut.
"You hold tight."
It stunk of burned hair. Steven passed out.
Eli rushed over to the monitors but found no one. The game was still on.
26
Brian was about to follow the blood trail south toward the tree line. He stopped. Up ahead, another set of blood drops continued. There had been not a single noise during his trek. He had been following nothing.
He trudged through the snow and made it out into the field. The tracks led back toward the house. Brian dashed back with less caution and more urgency.
***
Eli walked gingerly down his narrow hallway. He rounded the corner slowly, gun ready. There was nobody there. Instead, he found a trail of wet footprints leading down into his basement, a level up from his dungeon. Oh, Jennifer, what do you have in store for me?
His steps were soft. As he lowered down into the basement, he could see everything as it was, carefully designed as a duplicate of his living room from when he had lived with Rodney and Sarah. The keyboard in one corner, old television in the other, the shag carpet, the old coffee table, pea soup colored furniture, blissfully rough texture to the touch.
His feet landed on the bottom and there was not a sound he could hear, not even a breath. It was quiet. Eli looked up ahead, pistol raised, as he noticed blood leading into the laundry room that was pitch black, the door cracked open halfway. Inching his way toward the door, he reached out around the corner for the light switch. The light burst on and the room was empty.
A gun pressed firmly to the back of his head.
Jennifer's left hand trembled as she held the gun against the back of Eli's skull.
"Drop it."
"I'm sorry," he replied.
"Drop your fucking gun. You're under arrest." She couldn't stop shaking, her teeth chattering.
"I can't. It's incomplete." He exhaled. "You're perfection."
"This is the last time I'm asking."
"Don't you understand yet? I expected you would have."
"Drop your gun. Now!"
"It should become clear to you soon."
"Don't make me kill you." She had never shot anyone before. Her finger squeezed the trigger.
Eli twisted, elbowing Jennifer in the midsection. He knocked the gun out of her injured hand, and she grabbed hold of his shotgun. Her hand was so sore, each pulse breathing fresh blood out through the inky clots. If he touched it she would die from the pain. Jennifer's head slammed back from the force of his fist, but she never took her grip off of the shotgun, holding it away from her body. They were in a deadlock.
She stomped his toes and cracked him on the nose with her second head butt of the night. Her ears ringing, Jennifer ripped the shotgun from his grasp. Her momentum sent her staggering backward into the wall as he made a run for the stairs. She turned to fire. CLICK. The safety was on. She flicked it and fired a round into the far wall, just missing his
ass end as he scurried up the stairs.
Jennifer pumped the shotgun and moved up the staircase. Upon arriving at the top of the steps, she looked to her right, checking the long hallway. Clear. She moved left and then up ahead into his living room next to the kitchen. The fireplace was on, expelling sweet heat.
Jennifer moved around the wall that separated the kitchen and the dining room. Empty.
Then someone came bursting through the door. She almost fired.
It was
Brian.
"Shit." Jennifer hunched over and looked at her bullet wound. "I almost shot you."
His jaw went slack, eyes wide. "Where is he?"
"End of the long hallway. Probably down below. There's an elevator."
"Get out of here. Back-up is on its way. Go to my truck, make sure the ambulance is coming," he said.
"No, you need me."
"You're going to bleed out."
Jennifer could see Brian's eyes flicker to her left then widen. He raised his gun at her.
Eli's cold hand wrapped around the base of her neck and a cold blade pressed against her throat.
"Toss your gun over slowly," Eli said to Brian.
Brian's eyes locked with Jennifer's. "You'll spare her?"
"I'm not sure if you are deserving of requests, Sergeant Peters."
"Please."
"Your gun. Now." Jennifer felt the blade press tighter against her neck, his breath hot on the back of her neck.
"Don't," Jennifer demanded.
Brian tossed his gun halfway.
"It's been a long time," said Eli.
"Let her go, Baker."
"I don't think I'll be doing that."
"I'm sorry about what happened," she said. The knife's pressure decreased.
"What did you say?"
"I know what happened to you in Clavet back in ‘02, and I'm sorry." She took a chance.
"Then you know I have no choice in the matter."
"That's not true."
"But it is true! It is..."
The shotgun remained at Eli's side, his hand gripped tightly around it.
27
Back again. Pike Lake.
Atop the steep winding road. Cliffside.
Kyle Morrow was holding a roman candle. He was still amused, while the others appeared to suffer from stale boredom. Their amusement gained through Rodney was wearing off. "One beer left!" Kyle shouted.
"I can have it?" asked Rodney.
"Sure buddy, go nuts." He tossed the beer over.
Rodney drank from the final beer, a drunk shuffle scuttling along rocks. As he took a sip, the boys began to chant. "RODNEY! RODNEY! RODNEY!"
Rodney stopped, unable to comprehend their chants of fake encouragement.
"Keep going, Rodney!" Tanner's grin widened while watching Rodney's confused mind decide on the next action.
Kyle now had a handheld camera out, filming Rodney. The chugging and chanting began again.
Meanwhile, Bart Reider had a stick lit, flared fuse sizzling downward, and he lowered down and fired one at unimpressed Steven. It hit him in the feet and he snapped. "Are you kidding me?"
Bart laughed. The chanting continued.
***
Eli watched from the bottom of the hill as fireworks erupted into the amber sky. He wasn't quite close enough to see any of the guys. He wished he had eyes on Rodney. Maybe I'm
seeing this from the wrong point of view? Perhaps, I am wrong about their intentions. Maybe they are attempting to make him feel included. At the very worst they plan on abandoning him here...I could give him a ride as a friendly stranger. Or will he recognize me?
What would they say if I walked up that hill and attempted to take Rodney with me?
Eli watched the fireworks explode, falling and sparkling. It was possible that Rodney had been happy through the years without him, and that he was actually getting along quite well, maturing even. Maybe his speech has come a long way. I bet he's charming.
Rodney finally finished the beer with drunken vigor.
"Throw it!" yelled Bart.
Rodney launched the bottle over the edge of the hillside, and it landed on the sandy beach down below, the drop to impact a sizable delay from the distance traveled.
Bart handed Rodney a slender firework stick and he held it up in the air proudly. He was out of his element but flourishing, a monumental step forward in his young life, the acceptance igniting his youthful soul, the drunken blurriness blissful. Lost in fireworks and chants, he knelt and set down the stick on the ground as the fuse burned down, pointing directly at the boys.
"No, no, no, no!"
Rodney removed his shirt as the firework launched toward Tanner's car, rattling on impact. Humored shock wiped
across their blemished faces, except for Bart, who was laughing hysterically. Rodney picked it up before the other guys were able to scramble toward it, bustling toward him all at once. He held it up in the air and cheered.
The chant raged on, louder this time. Kyle was still filming.
The gang cheered and called out his name between gasping laughs. He moved his hips side to side, sporting a goofy sort of jig as his belly swayed and rippled, folds of fat scrunching and straightening. More fireworks into the sky. More dancing. More cheering. Rodney's disjointed dance pattern continued as he edged toward the shoulder of the road. Kyle couldn't stop laughing. "This is gold."
Rodney was oblivious to his whereabouts, blinded by new friends, alcohol, and an excitement that he had never felt before. As he continued to dance, edging himself closer and closer, they were all yelling now, begging him to stop.
He backed up one more step and as his foot slid over the edge, he kicked wildly to find balance, but instead, his momentum carried him backward. A tree branch snapped and rocks tumbled alongside Rodney. Before they could blink, he was gone.
They all rushed to the edge except for Kyle who was frozen with his camcorder still up and filming.
The boys leaned over the edge just in time to watch Rodney slam into an extremely shallow amount of water, mostly sand. They watched in horror as Rodney's body floated slightly before catching on the sand, resting still, water sloshing around him back and forth.
Steven was the first to speak. "Oh, shit."
Eli had heard the ruckus at the top of the hill. But now it was quiet.
His pulse quickened.
His eyes rested on the peak of the incline in the road, waiting for Rodney to come staggering out. He thought he spotted a firework flash from down below, its trajectory failing at his line of sight. The silence remained, and Eli opened his door and stepped out. He stood there anxiously waiting, hand gripped tightly around his car door. The suspense of the drawn-out silence was too much for him to bear. They hit him with a firework. Did they burn him? What if it hit his eyes and he lost his vision?
The boys all lay on their stomachs in shock, heads hanging over the unprotected ledge.
"We gotta go down and check on him," said Bart.
Tanner's voice was careless. "He's dead, you idiot."
Bart's eyes filled with tears. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that drop-off. Fuck! That drop-off is like over a hundred feet. Oh, my God."
Steven's eyes refused to change angles, wide and distant. "I knew it," he whispered.
Kyle was stuck. He couldn't move. "Kyle! Destroy that thing. Kyle!" said Pearson. "Smash it to pieces and then we'll toss it in the lake."
Steven spoke through cracks in his voice. "We gotta go down there. Someone drive down to the C store. Call an ambulance."
"No!"
"What do you mean no?!"
"Look at him. He's dead. My dad can help us with this."
"Are you fucking kidding me, Tanner?"
Tanner looked around for support from the others. "Back me up, guys."
"Tell us what to do, Tanner,” Kyle chimed in, still sickly white, his bottom lip twitching upward against his peach fuzz mustache.
"We speak of this to no one. I mean no one. I'll tell my dad everything. He will take care of us."
"How?"
"You know how much money he gives the RCMP each year? Grandpa was a cop. Yeah, yeah. It's fine. He'll look after it, no problem. Okay?”
"It was an accident, anyway," said Bart.
"Exactly. It was an accident. Let's just tell the truth," Steven said.
"We can't take that risk. We've been drinking all day, we practically kidnapped the kid. We have no other choice."
&n
bsp; "We can't do this."
"It's the only way," said Kyle.
"It is. Steven. I'm sorry but it is," said Tanner.
Something felt wrong.
Eli wanted to sprint up the hill, but a burdensome feeling of meeting his estranged foster brother loomed. Will he remember me? Will he care? Then, up the hill, he heard their car start up and peel out. He gripped the steering wheel for a moment before putting his LeSabre into drive. As suspected,
they were gone upon his arrival at the top of the hill.
Eli walked over to the edge of the cliff, looking out across the lake at the forest. He spotted a small log cabin surrounded by trees. It was quaint, isolated, only the wilderness in every direction. Eli imagined what it would be like to live in solitude there. The thought was liberating.
His gaze shifted to the water. There was not a single boat out there, as it was still too cool outside for it. Summer would soon arrive. The water was dead calm, the sunlight shining upon it. If he hurried, he could try and get a tail on them again, make sure that Rodney was taken home unharmed.
Just as he was about to leave, his line of vision tailed to the shore. What is that? He turned back, his breath now gone from his mouth. He told himself that it couldn't be, but he already knew it was. No... He walked over to the edge.
Eli dropped to his knees with his mouth gaped open. He made no sound. He lowered to his stomach, looking down at the lake water circling around Rodney's limp body.
Eli jumped to his feet, sprinted to his car, and reversed quickly down the hill. He whipped around the corner in reverse and jumped out of his car, leaving it parked along a tree line past the convenience store. Eli sprinted to the beach. I can save him. The water broke his fall. Eli continued to disillusion himself as he pumped his legs as hard as possible.