The Devil's Lullaby

by Chris Scalise

  Allison had a sudden flashback to the moment when Autumn had taken her drink glass and sipped it. She must have inserted the capsule right then.

  “So here’s what’s going to happen,” Autumn said. “In a few seconds, you’re about to start spewing, Linda Blair style, all over the floor and table, and I’m going to walk right out of here and disappear from your life. You’ll never see me again, but please know that I’m impressed by how close you came to bringing me down. Just a heads-up, the vomiting is going to hurt like a bitch, but you won’t die. I wish you were, but since your visit was a surprise, this was the best I could do on short notice.”

  All at once, Allison felt a powerful shockwave erupt from her stomach and send tremors through her body. Autumn had not exaggerated. The vomit exploded from Allison’s mouth like a geyser, sending red and green chunks of food, bile, and liquid across the table.

  Autumn narrowly dived out of the way and turned to leave. Allison dropped to her knees and continued to vomit onto the dark patterned carpet of the lounge. She grabbed for Autumn’s purse, but Autumn quickly pulled away and skipped out of sight.

  All Allison could do was remain on her hands and knees and wait for the regurgitation symphony to come to an end. The fierce stabbing pain in her stomach was unbearable, and her esophagus burned as though she were breathing fire. She heard shouting all around her, and she saw the shadows of people who had rushed to her aid. The vomiting seemed to continue forever, and the moisture in her eyes rendered her nearly blind. It was nearly five minutes before she finally felt as though the problem might be under control.

  A male bartender placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve called for an ambulance,” he said. “Are you able to breathe okay?”

  Allison ignored him and slowly rose to her feet with wobbling legs. Then she hobbled across the casino, no doubt looking like another over-indulging Las Vegas tourist who didn’t know her own limits. She wiped her eyes and peered in every direction, but Autumn was nowhere to be found.

  Thankfully, a lifeline was rushing her way. Officer Jacobs, dressed in full uniform, had entered the casino and was jogging toward her. “Where is she?” he shouted. “Are you okay?”

  Allison nodded. Her stomach was still in tremendous pain, and she felt as though all of the moisture had been eliminated from her body. It was hard to walk.

  “Call Aren,” she shouted. “Call him now.”

  Officer Jacobs retrieved a cell phone from his pocket and called Aren’s number.

  Allison took the phone from his hand and raised it to her ear. It rang four times, and then a click.

  “Hey…” Aren murmured with a loud groan, as though he had just awoken with the hangover of a lifetime. “Allison’s in trouble. Where are you?”

  “Aren, it’s me,” Allison said. “Listen very carefully.”

  “Where are you?” Aren asked.

  “Just listen. My iPad is still in your car. I need you to go to it right now, open the Find My iPhone app, and direct me where to go.”

  “What...why?”

  “Because...Autumn got away, but I slipped my phone in her purse. We can use it as a tracker.” And then she thought, I’ll show you sleight of hand, bitch.

  Aren groaned. “Okay.”

  “How are you feeling?” Allison asked.

  “My head is killing me,” he said.

  “Yeah, this bitch fights dirty. Believe me, I know. But we have to find her. Just please get to your car as fast as you can and then meet us in front of the Paris.”

  It took Aren nearly twenty minutes to take the elevator to the ground level, slip out the emergency exit, navigate to the Planet Hollywood, and retrieve his car from the valet. He remained on the phone with them the whole time, and as he narrated each step of his journey, Allison and Officer Jacobs scoured every inch of the Paris looking for Autumn.

  They started in the casino, and then made their way past the colorful rows of slot machines and into the bustling tunnel of shops that connected the Paris Las Vegas to Bally’s Hotel and Casino. The narrow, enclosed shopping plaza was decorated to resemble a cozy French street, complete with a cobblestone path, quaint bistros, and even a painted sky of clouds.

  Officer Jacobs periodically stopped to show the vendors a photo of Autumn on his phone. It was a press photo for her band, and it showed her face clearly. Most of the vendors hadn’t noticed her, but a couple had thought they’d seen her running toward Bally’s. Allison and Officer Jacobs continued in that direction.

  When the tunnel ended and dumped them into the Bally’s casino, they once again looked around for Autumn, scanning hordes of tourists in the hopes of finding their needle in a haystack. But she was nowhere to be seen. By the time they reached the Bally’s registration desk, Aren was inside his car accessing Allison’s iPad.

  “Okay,” he said to Allison over the phone. “Trying to get a location on your phone. And it looks like...your phone is somewhere in the parking garage at the Flamingo.”

  “Okay,” Allison said. “That’s right across the street. Can you drive over and meet us there?”

  “Yeah, of course. Be safe.”

  “You too,” Allison said.

  She and Officer Jacobs exited the hotel and raced across the crowded pedestrian bridge that ran parallel to Las Vegas Boulevard over Flamingo. Directly on the other side was the Cromwell, one of the newer albeit smaller luxury properties on the Strip, and just on the other side of that was the world-famous Flamingo Las Vegas Hotel and Casino. It was the first hotel ever built on the Strip, the brainchild of notorious gangster Bugsy Siegel, but none of the original building remained. Since 1946, the hotel had been renovated and rebuilt more times than most people could count, and today it resembled a massive Miami-style resort, lined with towering palm trees and illuminated in pink and white to honor the hotel’s namesake bird.

  The interior was also an orgy of pink and white. White paint covered the walls and ceilings while pink fluorescent lights lined the casino, shining down onto the vast sea of table games and the gaudy, floral-patterned floor.

  Once inside the casino, Allison and Officer Jacobs maneuvered past the excited crowds toward the east end of the building. They passed the theater, the food court, and the massive glass walls that provided an unobstructed view of the lush courtyard with its many live flamingoes and other wildlife. After passing a series of gift shops and clothing boutiques, they found themselves in a long hallway leading to the parking garage.

  Allison was starting to regain some of her energy, but this felt like the longest run of her life. “We have no idea what floor she’s even on,” Allison groaned.

  “So I’ll check all of them,” Officer Jacobs replied as they approached the gold elevator doors. “You go home and rest. I’ve got this.”

  Fat chance, Allison thought.

  Finally, the elevator doors opened. They ascended to the second story and raced through the parking garage, greeted by the smells of garbage and gasoline. Allison called Aren on Officer Jacobs’ phone, but Aren didn’t pick up. Where the hell are you?

  They raced up a flight of stairs to the next floor and continued their search. The garage was mostly quiet, and the few people they passed were visibly concerned to see a uniformed police officer rushing from aisle to aisle.

  The two of them stopped to observe the driver of every vehicle that passed, but Autumn was nowhere to be seen. Allison’s fear was that Autumn had stolen a car from the garage and was now long gone. The deranged murderer seemed to have a solution for everything.

  Growing increasingly out of breath, Allison followed Officer Jacobs up the flight of stairs to the fourth floor, where they continued their search. Allison made it no more than five feet past the staircase when her legs gave out. She fell to her knees, beads of sweat dripping from her forehead onto the ground. Her heart was pounding, and her stomach felt as though it had been stabbed with a sharp knife. Her unfortunate vomiting session had drained the life out of her, and she wasn’t sure if she could go
on.

  Officer Jacobs continued his search of the garage, weaving between rows of cars and shining his flashlight on every passing vehicle. All Allison could do was remain on her hands and knees, panting and sweating and trying not to pass out from exhaustion. The world was spinning, and all she could think about was how she had failed Kristen and how much she hated herself for it.

  “Freeze!” Officer Jacobs screamed from clear across the garage. “Hands in the air!”

  Allison looked up and felt another glimmer of hope. Had he found her? Could this finally be the end? She slowly rose to her feet, holding on to one of the garage’s support beams as she regained her balance. She then hobbled forward, toward the sound of the officer’s voice.

  What she saw next was perfection. Officer Jacobs had his gun drawn, pointed directly at Autumn Noble, who was standing beside the ramp linking the third and fourth floors. She was apparently waiting for someone to pick her up. Now she would have to wait a very long time.

  “Checkmate, bitch,” Allison muttered under her breath as she dizzily hobbled toward the scene. Autumn was looking directly at her, an expression of disgust on her face. Allison took great pleasure in the scorn.

  “I am placing you under arrest,” Officer Jacobs shouted, inching toward her. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford—”

  Just then, the sound of a blaring car engine roared up the ramp. Tires screeched loudly as a silver Infiniti Q60 drifted 90 degrees to the right and barreled straight toward Officer Jacobs. The officer fired his gun twice, but both shots missed the windshield as the car zoomed toward him.

  The officer jumped to the right, but he was too late. The grille of the vehicle smashed into his ankles, causing him to do a complete forward flip onto the hood. His bald head slammed into the windshield, splintering the glass. The car came to a screeching stop, and the officer’s lifeless body rolled onto the ground.

  Allison stood frozen. Autumn’s expression was now one of pure glee. She looked Allison directly in the eyes as if to say, Nice try.

  The driver’s door opened, and a frantic middle-aged woman stepped out of the car. She was lanky and unimposing, with thinning, shoulder-length hair that was blonde except for a single strip of gray. Her eyes, though surrounded by thick crows’ feet, strongly resembled Autumn’s eyes. She looked to be about forty-five, but a hard forty-five, like someone who had smoked since the age of fourteen.

  “Baby, are you okay?” the woman shouted, rushing toward Autumn.

  “What the fuck took you so long, Mom?” Autumn shrieked. “I really didn’t want to add ‘cop killer’ to my list of accomplishments tonight. This shit is already going to be complicated enough to clean up.”

  “I came as fast as I could!” the older woman pleaded. “Baby, you know how it is on the Strip.”

  “Yeah, well now we have two loose ends to clean up.” Autumn stepped over Officer Jacobs’ motionless body, bent forward, and picked up his gun from the oil-stained floor. Then she turned to Allison, gun in hand.

  Without hesitating, Allison turned and sprinted away from Autumn. She barreled toward the stairs on the opposite end of the garage. Within seconds, the first gunshot shattered a car window just inches away from her elbow. I just need to get to the casino, she told herself, forcing herself to continue despite the excruciating pain that overwhelmed every muscle and organ in her body.

  The second shot whizzed directly past her, and she nearly fell to the ground. She could hear Autumn’s mother starting the car and screeching across the garage once again.

  When Allison looked back, the older woman was driving straight toward her at what looked like a hundred miles per hour. Allison slid between two cars and into another row, narrowly avoiding the woman’s bloodstained grille and windshield.

  Hearing two more gunshots, Allison lowered her head and zigzagged between various cars, hoping to avoid the line of fire and perhaps even lose Autumn once and for all. When she finally reached the staircase in the corner of the garage, she tumbled down every step, landing back on the third floor and directly beside Autumn’s mother’s car. The car was parked right along the stairs, the engine running. Autumn’s mother was leaning against the passenger door, just waiting.

  Allison jumped to her feet and tried racing past the woman, but before she could even decipher what was happening, she felt an agonizing surge of electricity pulsing through her entire body. The woman had reached into her purse and pulled out a palm-sized stun gun.

  Allison collapsed to the ground, crying out. Her pain threshold had officially expired. Her head was pounding, her body writhing. It was as though her body couldn’t even process any more pain, and now every nerve in her body was going haywire. Spittle oozed out of her mouth, sweat poured from her face, her eyes turned blood red. She knew this was the end.

  She could hear Autumn’s footsteps thundering down the stairs just above her head. She looked up, but everything appeared hazy.

  “This fucking gun is out of bullets,” Autumn shouted to her mother. “Let’s just toss her ass in the trunk.”

  Allison was too weak to fight back as the two women grabbed her by the legs and shoulders and placed her in the car’s spacious trunk.

  Right as Autumn was about to close the trunk, she reached into her handbag and retrieved Allison’s phone. “Oh, and real smart, using your phone to track me, love.” She threw Allison’s phone violently to the ground, smashing it. Then she closed the trunk, and everything went black.

  As Allison felt the car move forward, she thought about her life: her loves, her joys, her regrets. She felt as though she were lying in her own coffin, buried six feet beneath the ground, lamenting that her time had ended and that she would never see her loved ones again.

  She wished she hadn’t made her mother’s life so difficult as a teenager. She wished she had said the words “I love you” more often and more sincerely. She wondered what life might have been like with Aren Anzalone, if only she’d had the time.

  Most of all, she wished she had been a better godmother to Kristen. Laura knew exactly what she was doing when she chose you as the godmother, Allison’s mother had recently told her. You're smart, headstrong, and fearless. You've never let anyone walk all over you. Laura always envied you for that, and I think she hoped that some of those qualities could rub off on Kristen.

  Allison began to weep in the darkness. She hated to think that Laura, her beautiful departed sister, had been dumb enough to entrust her only daughter to a selfish con-artist who had done nothing to make the world a better place. Now, Kristen was probably dead already, and Allison would soon be joining her. Mother would be all alone in her quiet North Las Vegas home, heartbroken over the fact that she had no family left in the world.

  And it’s all my fucking fault.

  Allison screamed at the top of her lungs and pounded on the roof of the trunk. Then again. Then a third time. Maybe, just maybe, someone would hear her and would call for help.

  She wiped her eyes, turned her head, and saw her possible salvation. It was a small, anchor-shaped latch, and it was glowing green. In her pain and panic, she had completely forgotten that modern vehicles were built with internal trunk latches.

  Allison grabbed the latch and pulled. Almost immediately, the trunk swung open. They were still in the garage, making their way down the long series of ramps to the first-floor exit. Allison didn’t see anyone in plain view that she could wave to, and so she contemplated jumping out of the vehicle. The car was moving at least thirty miles an hour, but surely they would have to stop when they reached the bottom.

  Allison didn’t have long to consider her options. As they descended the ramps, the car started weaving violently back and forth within the lane, knocking Allison onto her stomach. Then, just as she pulled herself back up, the car spun 180 degrees and raced back up the ramp at a near-highway speed. Allison nearly rolled out of the trunk
, but she was able to grip the edge and hold on for dear life.

  The car was now driving straight up a ramp reserved exclusively for exiting vehicles, and as a result was forced to weave around oncoming cars. The honking horns echoed through the hollow garage, and the screeching tires were like razor blades to the ears.

  When they reached the roof of the garage, the car turned sharply, knocking Allison to the side of the trunk. She knew that if the car slowed to a stop, she would have only a split second to make her escape. And this time, she couldn’t let her pain or exhaustion slow her down.

  Sure enough, the car did stop, on the corner of the roof furthest from the stairs and elevator. Without a moment’s hesitation, Allison leaped from the roof and raced toward the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. Autumn chased after her, gaining on her with each stride.

  When she made it halfway to the stairs, Allison slowed down, not because she was tired, but because something didn’t feel right. Why was Autumn still chasing her? Autumn had spent the entire night trying to get away from her. Allison decided it was time to stop. Until she knew where Kristen had been taken, she was done running.

  Defiantly, Allison stopped cold and turned to Autumn, who was barreling toward her at full speed. Allison assumed a defensive stance, preparing for a fight. Autumn came closer, closer, closer. And then she kept running. She whizzed right past Allison with a cold smile on her face, made her way to the stairs, and ran down, disappearing from sight.

  Allison just watched, stunned. She couldn’t figure out what was happening. She didn’t have long to contemplate it though, as she soon heard the screeching tires once again. She turned around, and the Infiniti was once again barreling straight toward her.

  Allison dropped and rolled between two cars, narrowly avoiding the tires of The Infiniti. The smell of the rubber engulfed her nostrils, causing her to feel nauseated once again. But she didn’t throw up. She was just happy to be alive.

  As she jumped to her feet, she watched the car shift into reverse and accelerate backward in her direction, stopping just inches away from her.