Bone Snow

by David Haynes

  Leo turned away. Whatever this was, whatever display of allegiance or authority this was, he wanted no part of it. He felt sick to his stomach. He stared out of the window, watching the storm hurl volley after volley of snow at the windows. Their impact was silent, almost graceful. He wished he were out there too.

  Eventually the screaming stopped. A handkerchief that might once have been white was wrapped around Kenta’s hand. The dark bloom now covered the material. Kenta’s eyes were closed and his skin waxy with a sheen of sweat on his face. He looked terrible.

  Ookami stood up and looked at Leo. “He will learn to appreciate strength.”

  Leo took a deep breath and shook his head. He had no idea what to say to that. Such a barbarous display, particularly against a family member, was incomprehensible. Ookami was right, he didn’t understand. He never would.

  He looked away from the man. Sam was still standing by the stairs. He didn’t look appalled or upset by what he’d seen. He looked vaguely satisfied. Maybe he was. Maybe he was happy now at least some form of revenge had been taken on the person who shot Michelle. Perhaps in some way it would help. It was a small hope, but Leo clung to it like a drowning man might cling to a plank of wood in the ocean.

  Alison lowered her gun. She didn’t appear shocked either and sat down on the bed beside Michael. She placed the gun between them and smoothed his hair as if nothing had happened, as if that great big cannon were a child’s bedtime teddy bear. He looked over at Kim. She was pushing the Glock back into the holster.

  Kenta groaned in time and tune with the wind, rocking gently back and forward. This had to be the end of it. There could be no more punishments, no more killings, no more knives, guns or fists. They would sit out the night and then forget any of this ever happened.

  Leo walked over to his nightstand and pulled out a box of Advil. He tossed it at Ookami. “If he needs water, there’s a glass in the bathroom. Clean towels are in the closet.”

  Sam tapped him on the arm. “Where’s Chris?”

  His voice came as a surprise, as did the question. Sam had been asleep when they found Chris gone, when they went looking for him. The gunshots had brought Leo and Kim running from the basement before they had found him.

  Leo put a hand on his shoulder. The kid was almost as tall as him now but he still remembered him aged ten, all elbows and knees.

  “We don’t know,” he said. “He was gone when we woke up. We went to look for him but we didn’t want to wake you.” He looked over Leo’s shoulder and around the room, as if Chris might be playing hide and seek. He should be here. He would have come with the gunshots.

  “What? Gone? Gone where?”

  Leo looked to Kim. He didn’t have an answer for Sam and he didn’t want to talk about what he’d seen down in the basement. Not yet, not until he’d got it straight in his head. He hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to Kim yet; they’d both come running when Alison opened up with the gun. Kim stared at Alison one last time and then, satisfied she was no longer about to blow anyone’s brains out, she walked over to him.

  “We’re…” she began and then stopped to look at Leo. She raised her eyebrows at him, lost for words.

  “We’re still trying to figure it out,” Leo said.

  “Figure it out?” Sam shouted. “What the fuck? Did he find a way out of here?”

  He hadn’t considered that but it wasn’t likely. Chris wouldn’t have left without saying anything, even if it were possible. He would never have left them all here like this.

  “No,” Sam answered his own question. “He would’ve taken me with him. All of us.” He bit his top lip. “There isn’t anywhere to go anyway!”

  “Listen, we don’t know…”

  “Did you check the basement? He might be down there with that woman. Making sure she’s okay. That’s where he’ll be. Come on…”

  He turned to leave but Leo grabbed his arm. “We checked down there,” he said.

  “And?”

  “He’s not down there,” he replied. “We came up when we heard the gun.”

  Sam frowned. “He’s got to be. That’s the only place.” He paused again. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  Leo shook his head.

  Ookami returned from the bathroom with a towel and a glass of water. “You haven’t found him?” he asked.

  “No,” Kim replied, then added “Not yet.”

  Ookami frowned, cutting deep grooves into his forehead. The great knife he’d used on Kenta’s fingers was gone, hidden as if it never existed. He said nothing and moved on to Kenta.

  Sam was shaking his head. “He couldn’t just disappear. It doesn’t make sense.”

  It didn’t to Leo either, but nor did what he’d seen in the basement. Already those images were growing faint, like the remnants of a dream. His mind was trying to hold onto them, bring them back into focus, but they were slipping away. Had they ever been there at all? Had he really seen mother and child devouring bones? No. No, that wasn’t what he’d seen. The darkness, the stress the situation, it was all getting the better of him. And if he voiced it, if he spoke of it with Kim, she would think him a lunatic.

  “We’ll work it out,” he said, but his voice carried little conviction.

  Sam clenched his fists, his eyes darting around the room until they settled on Kenta.

  “He must have done something to him.” He took a step toward him. “Where is he? What have you done to him?” he shouted.

  Kenta looked up. He looked like he didn’t understand the question.

  “Don’t,” Leo said, taking Sam’s arm again. “We would have found…something. We would have…”

  Sam pulled his arm away. “I don’t care what you say, he’s responsible!” He took off down the stairs.

  Kim ran after him, banging down the stairs. “I’ll watch him,” she shouted over her shoulder.

  Leo immediately turned to Kenta. “Where is he? What have you done with him?” he yelled. He didn’t know where else to turn, where else to look. He was lashing out, trying to find an answer from someone who didn’t have it.

  Kenta whispered something to Ookami and then closed his eyes again.

  “What did he say?”

  Ookami got to his feet, standing between them. “He says he has done nothing to Chris. He doesn’t know where he is.”

  “And you believe him? He’s a liar. We both know it. Maybe I should ask him?” He stepped to the side but Ookami put his hand out, placing it in the middle of his chest.

  “He’s telling the truth.” He paused. “This time.”

  Leo looked at the hand, at the wrist where the tail-end of a black tattoo crept from beneath his cuff. He leaned against it, gauging how much strength ran up the arm, through the shoulder and chest. There was enough. Ookami lowered it before he could test the courage too.

  “You’ll have to believe me, Leo,” Ookami said.

  “Why?”

  Ookami gave a faint smile. “I can’t let you hurt him again. I can’t let anyone touch him now.”

  Leo stared into his eyes. There was steel there, twisted and warped, but it was still there. If he didn’t accept him at his word things would get worse, a whole lot worse. There would be more bloodshed when all any of them wanted was to be out of here.

  “As you said, you would have found something, a sign, or we would have heard a struggle. I doubt Chris would have taken any shit from Kenta. There would have been shouting.” He paused. “You know I’m right.”

  Leo clenched his teeth together until his jawbone ached. He wanted Kenta to know where Chris was, wanted him to have had something to do with him going AWOL. He wanted someone to pin it on. But he couldn’t. He was confused, lost, tired and angry. He unclenched his teeth and his fists, which he couldn’t remember readying.

  “She’s coming!” Michael shouted.

  Ookami turned at the same time he did. Kenta’s eyes were open now. He looked terrified, trying to push himself into the corner.

  “Why is
he saying that? Who’s coming?” said Kenta.

  “He’ll never be the same,” Leo said, nodding at Michael. “Whoever drove that car into him…I hope they sleep soundly. Fate has a funny way of catching up with things like that.”

  “Is that what you believe? That fate is playing a part in this?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I believe,” he replied. “Michael has been left damaged by that car and its driver.”

  “Maybe it was fate that got him injured. Maybe he got what he deserved?”

  Leo turned on him. “Jesus Christ, man. Nobody deserves that!”

  Ookami raised his eyebrows. “Did Kenta deserve to be beaten? To have his fingers cut?”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it immediately. He was being drawn into a conversation on a topic he had no interest in, with a participant with whom he shared nothing in common. He had better things to do with his time.

  He rubbed his eyes. “Bring him downstairs.” He pointed at Kenta.

  “And leave him where?”

  “I don’t give a damn as long as it isn’t in here.”

  Ookami sighed. “So, you leave your door open for them.” He nodded at Michael and Alison. “But not for Kenta? You make that distinction based on what? Both Michael and Kenta have serious injuries.”

  Leo could feel his anger rising again. “On the fact that Michael didn’t shoot an innocent girl!”

  “But Alison shot Kenta, and as far as we know he is innocent of the crime she leveled at him. Shouldn’t he be granted the same courtesy?”

  Ookami was smiling. The man was trying to tie him up, trying to get a reaction from him. You never fought angry, you made mistakes, and right now he was furious.

  “My house, my rules,” he replied. “A lesson on philosophy from a man who just cut his nephew’s fingers off is something I can do without. Okay?”

  Ookami shrugged. The guy was really beginning to grind his gears.

  “Now, do you want my help, or can he walk down on his own?”

  He stepped toward Kenta but the man shrank back even deeper into the corner of the room. Leo smiled.

  “I guess you don’t want my help, huh Kenta?”

  “I’ll take him.” Ookami walked over and hauled him to his feet. There was a greasy dark patch on the wooden floor where his blood had run. He’d sand the floor down when this was all over. You couldn’t sell an apartment when it was covered in blood.

  He waited until they started on the stairs before taking a deep breath and starting down himself. Behind him, he heard Michael’s strained voice. It resonated.

  “She’s coming.”

  18

  Leo found Kim sitting with Sam, their backs pressed against the counter. It was easy to forget that he was still only sixteen. He’d been a fixture in Leo’s life for so long that he was almost family. Not that he had any of his own, or knew how families interacted with each other these days, but there was a familiarity that engendered that sentiment. For all his bravado with the other kids, his attitude and street-smarts, he was still a kid. Coping with what had gone on here tonight was too much for anybody.

  He stood in the doorway of the storeroom, watching. Ookami had Kenta with him on the other mattress. He didn’t believe that Kenta had gone up there looking for blankets. He’d gone up there for something else. Maybe he was taking a look around, seeing what was worth stealing. He wouldn’t find anything of any value up there.

  Leo watched the two men sitting side by side. There was no warmth, no affection between them. No sign that any relationship existed except the one of master and servant.

  But there was some kind of relationship with Alison. A recognition. She knew Ookami and Kenta, and no doubt Michael would too. What was that? It was hard to believe Michael would have anything to do with them, which left only one thing. A good old-fashioned shakedown. Extortion, probably; offering protection for the shop in exchange for a reasonable monthly subscription. Bastards.

  They hadn’t tried with him yet but it was probably on the way. With any luck he’d be well gone by then; sipping a cocktail, cooking under a hot sun, the sound of the ocean in his ears and not a raging storm. When had he last taken a vacation? Twenty years ago, maybe. Well, he was going to take a long one after tonight. One that lasted for the rest of his life.

  An icy breeze tickled the back of his neck, making him shiver. It was as if someone were standing right behind him, breathing on him. Not the warm, caressing air of a lover but the frigid, barren air in the lungs of the dead.

  Kim caught his eye and nodded. “You okay?” she mouthed.

  He smiled back. “You?”

  She nodded and then turned to Sam, patting his knee and standing up. She walked slowly over to him.

  “Is it just me or is tonight getting more and more screwed up by the minute?”

  “Not just you,” he replied. “Definitely not just you.”

  Kim stood by his side, keeping watch over Sam. “Downstairs…in the basement…”

  Leo swallowed. He wasn’t sure what he’d seen now.

  “She look happy to you? The girl. She looked really happy.”

  Leo nodded but said nothing.

  “And that little baby? You were right. How the hell she keeps that baby so healthy, living on the streets is beyond me.” She sighed. “Maybe she isn’t homeless, maybe she’s just lost?”

  Leo shrugged. His mind brought up images of the scene in the basement. The girl, the child, lying coddled together. The girl was smiling, pretty and young, without a care in the world. Forget that she was sitting in a freezing cold basement with an infant barely out of the cradle, Kim was right, she did look content.

  “Almost like a Christmas card,” Kim added.

  Something deep inside told Leo that what he had seen was as far away from a Christmas card as it was possible to be. His guts told him something strange was happening, yet when he tried to grasp at one of the gossamer threads of memory, they simply dissolved. Vanished, leaving only the picture-perfect image of mother and child reclining content in the snow.

  “The snow felt a little off,” said Kim. “Feel that way to you?”

  He nodded but didn’t trust his own judgment at the moment. “Didn’t seem to bother her,” he replied. “She’s coping with all this a lot better than I am, that’s for sure.”

  “And Chris? Where the hell is he?” Kim was starting to look as confused as he felt. Was she sensing something too?

  Leo watched Sam get to his feet and stretch his back against the counter. “I…” he started.

  Sam reached into his pocket, glanced over at Leo and smiled. He returned the gesture. Whatever it was Kim had said to him had worked. He looked calm, at least as relaxed at the situation would allow.

  Sam’s hand cleared his pocket. There was a brief flash of steel. It burned orange in the dim light of the kerosene lamp. A knife – the kid had a knife.

  Leo tried to sprint toward him, his feet slipping on the cold polished floor. He crashed into the candy stand, sending it skidding across the shop.

  “No!” he shouted. “No, Sam!”

  But Sam sprang forward, the knife held high above his head. He screamed, face full of rage.

  Kenta didn’t move. He was cradling his ruined hand, rocking backward and forward. Leo watched in horror as Sam’s knife stabbed down toward the man’s head. He wasn’t quick enough to stop it.

  Ookami’s hand shot out, grabbing Sam’s wrist a couple of inches above Kenta’s head. It was fast, really fast, like a boxer’s jab. In the same movement, Ookami was up on his feet. He turned Sam’s wrist, forcing the knife from his hand and then kicked him in his stomach. The kid flew backward, smashing into the counter, his head snapping backward with the impact. He grunted and dropped to the floor.

  Ookami picked him up by the collar, drawing back his fist. The kid was out cold, his head lolling forward.

  “Take your hands off him!” Leo roared. He took Ookami’s arm by the elbow and pulled him back. Their strength was
evenly matched. He could feel the other man straining against him, his muscles taut and powerful.

  “Take your goddamn hands off him, or you and I are going to have a bigger problem than we’ve already got.” He could feel the muscles in his neck bulging.

  “He tried to kill my nephew.”

  “The same nephew whose hand you’ve just sliced up. A bit rich, Ookami.”

  “He is mine to do with as I want.”

  The display of arrogance was breathtaking. It was almost omnipotent.

  “I don’t give a shit about Kenta but this kid is under my protection. You won’t hurt him. You got that?”

  Ookami said something in Japanese that sounded like a curse. Leo heard Kenta laugh and then cough until he gagged.

  “You don’t touch what’s mine and I don’t touch what’s yours,” said Leo. It sounded vaguely biblical but he hoped it might forge at least some form of common ground between them, however twisted it was.

  Kim came around the side of them and took Sam from Ookami’s fist. She lowered him gently to the floor and checked his pulse.

  “He’s okay,” she said, unzipping his coat and lifting his sweat-top. “A couple of busted ribs probably.”

  Kim looked up at Ookami. “When this is over, I’m going to be all over you and your pathetic band of assholes. You won’t be able to take a shit without seeing my face over the stall.”

  She got to her feet and stood toe to toe with him. She was a good foot shorter, but she stared up at him like a boxer getting instructions from the referee. Her teeth were gritted.

  “I’m going to make it my personal business to put you away. One way or another, you’ll be gone.” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “I’m putting all the pieces together and they’re making one hell of an ugly picture. You got that, Ookami?”

  He smiled down at her. “I shall look forward to it, Officer Knowles.” He leaned forward so they were almost kissing. “And you shouldn’t forget that my reach extends much farther than just this block. I know a lot of people in this city. And beyond.”