Allison

by Strand, Jeff

  The only way this wouldn’t end horribly was if she could stay calm.

  Nice and calm. Respectful and polite.

  A speeding ticket was no big deal. That might be all this was about. Maybe he’d even let her off with a warning. She’d apologize and be on her way.

  Calm. Very calm. Not calm enough that he thought she’d just taken a hit of marijuana, but calm.

  The police officer got out of his vehicle. He was a big guy. Military haircut. No-nonsense stride to his walk. Allison rolled down her window as he approached.

  He leaned down. “License, registration, and proof of insurance.” He was scowling, but she wasn’t sure if he was angry, or if his face just naturally formed a scowl. He kind of gave off the vibe of somebody who scowled even when he wasn’t upset.

  Allison opened the glove compartment, took out her registration, and handed it to him. Spiral jumped onto her lap as she unzipped her purse. She found her driver’s license right away. She knew her proof of insurance was in here, but she wasn’t completely sure where, so she began to rifle through the contents.

  Stay calm. Everything is fine. You’ll find it. It’s no big deal. Just a traffic stop.

  Could he tell how nervous she was?

  Of course he could.

  So what? Everybody was nervous when they got pulled over by a cop. It would be weird for her not to be nervous.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s in here.”

  “Not a problem,” said the cop. His words were friendly but his tone said, “If you pull a gun out of your purse, I promise you won’t have a chance to shoot it.”

  It was fine. Perfectly fine. She’d been speeding. He had no clue that anything else had happened today.

  “May I ask what this is about?”

  “Find your proof of insurance first, please.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  Where the hell was it?

  Calm down. Don’t panic.

  “If you don’t have the paperwork, you can probably pull it up on your phone,” the cop told her.

  “Thank you,” said Allison. “I don’t actually have my phone with me right now.”

  “You don’t have your phone?”

  “No, I—” She almost said “left the house in a hurry” but that would be a terrible answer. “I’m forty-five years old. I still remember pay phones. I have a cell phone, obviously, but I don’t have it glued to my hand like kids do these days.”

  “They come in useful when you can’t find your insurance card,” the cop said.

  “Right. They do. I’m sorry.” Allison continued digging through her purse.

  Seriously, where the fuck was the paperwork? She hadn’t thrown it away. The only possible place it could be was in her purse, and it wasn’t as if her purse was in complete disarray.

  She couldn’t find it because she was getting frantic.

  “What happens if I can’t find it?” she asked.

  “Are you done looking?”

  “Not yet.”

  She found a small folded piece of paper. Was this it? Yes! She breathed a sigh of relief and handed it to the cop. He quickly glanced at it and nodded.

  “Do you know how fast you were going?” the cop asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And do you know the speed limit on this highway?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. I’m sorry.”

  “Eighty-one miles per hour is considered reckless driving.”

  The cop’s scowl intensified. He rubbed his forehead as if struck by a sudden migraine. He removed his hand then seemed to be making a conscious effort to regain his focus.

  “I didn’t know that, sir,” said Allison, her voice quivering a bit.

  Calm down calm down calm down calm down...

  “Reckless driving is a...” The cop trailed off, as if he lost his train of thought.

  What could she do?

  A thin trickle of blood ran from his nostril. The cop wiped it away with the back of his index finger. He looked at his finger, then returned his attention to Allison.

  “Reckless driving is...”

  His other nostril began to bleed.

  Should she confess everything? Explain to him that she had telekinetic powers, which is what was making his nose bleed, and that he needed to return to his vehicle immediately? What if he actually believed her? It would save his life.

  “Sir, I—”

  The cop waved at her to stop talking. “I’m going to run your plates. I’ll be right back.”

  Allison watched in the rearview mirror as he returned to his car, walking like somebody in extreme pain.

  He opened the door but didn’t get inside.

  He stood there for a few seconds.

  Then he closed the door again and walked back over to her.

  The cop handed Allison her license, registration, and insurance paper. “I’m going to let you off with a warning,” he said. “Watch your speed.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  She rolled her window back up as the cop left. Oh, thank freaking God. She started the engine and resumed her drive.

  At some point soon she’d have to pull over and try to send a message to Cody to tell him not to come over. She had the dead guy’s phone, and though she didn’t know Cody’s phone number or e-mail address, it couldn’t be that difficult to track them down, or at least look him up on social media. But he’d still be at work, so her top priority was to put as much distance as she could between herself and the additional people who might want to kill her.

  She’d turned off Location Services on the phone, so in theory they shouldn’t be able to use it to find her. As soon as she got a replacement she’d destroy this one.

  About half an hour later, the phone rang. Boss Man.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “It’s done,” said Winlaw.

  “That was quick.”

  “They work efficiently. This took quite a bit longer than usual, but there were a lot of bodies.”

  “Well, thank you,” said Allison. “I appreciate it.”

  “Would you be interested in meeting in person?”

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “Excuse me?” said Winlaw.

  “I was kidding.”

  “Oh. Very good. It’s not often that somebody can catch me off-guard like that. I knew I liked you. But, no, I’m not asking you out. I’d like to discuss your special gifts and how they can be mutually beneficial.”

  “I’m sure that will be a very interesting discussion,” said Allison. “I’m all in favor of it, but I’m going to lay low for a while. I’m sure you understand.”

  “I can protect you.”

  “Well, sure you can. I mean, you’re the one who’s trying to have me killed. Or captured, or whatever it is you want. I’m not that impressed that you can protect me from yourself.”

  “What I meant was that I’ll make sure nobody else comes after you, and I can make sure nobody finds out about the bodies.”

  “Great,” said Allison. “That’s good to hear. I’m still going to lay low for a while, if you don’t mind. Maybe a day or two. Let’s say one day. Twenty-four hours. Give me twenty-four hours to make sure my house isn’t on the national news, and we’ll work out some kind of meet and greet. Sound okay?”

  “It doesn’t sound like I have a choice.”

  “You don’t. I’m glad you understand that. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, I promise.”

  “All right.” His tone was not that of somebody who thought it was all right.

  Allison hung up. In twenty-four hours, she’d be halfway across the country, and Winlaw could go fuck himself.

  19

  Somebody started the van’s engine. Cody couldn’t see who, since he was tied up in the back, with a sack over his head. Well, technically he wasn’t tied up—they’d used duct tape. Lots and lots of duct tape.

  While the younger one wrapped the tape around his hands and feet, the older one had kicked Cody and tol
d him to stop struggling. He hadn’t been struggling. He was, in fact, being as polite and cooperative as he possibly could. Obviously, the older one just wanted to kick him.

  After they taped his mouth, put the sack over his head, and tossed him into the back of the van, not gently, Cody had lain there, trying to figure out how he was going to escape. The sliding door on the side of the van kept opening every minute or so, and there’d be the thump of something heavy being tossed inside, presumably a full body bag.

  He tried not to think about the fact that he was sharing a van with corpses.

  The list of strange things that Cody was willing to believe existed did not include zombies, so he’d be fine. The dead bodies couldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t see them or smell them. All he had to worry about was joining their ranks—which, if he needed to justify his current anxiety level, was a pretty damn legitimate concern.

  So now they were driving away from Allison’s house.

  They hit quite a few bumps. Cody wondered how he’d react if the body bags slid toward him. Poorly, he assumed.

  They’d taken away his cell phone and he couldn’t see anything anyway, so he wasn’t sure how long the ride lasted. Definitely not as long as it felt, since that was approximately a million years.

  The van stopped.

  The rear doors opened and a couple of people lifted Cody up by his hands and feet. They said nothing as they carried him. Their footsteps sounded like they were on cement, then a door opened, then it sounded like they were on carpet.

  They dropped him onto the floor.

  “Gentle,” a man said. “That’s no way to treat our guest.”

  At least three people laughed at that witticism.

  “Can you hear me?” the man asked.

  Cody nodded.

  “I’m going to remove the hood. Are you going to behave?”

  Cody nodded again.

  “Do I have to spell out what will happen if you fail to behave?”

  Cody shook his head.

  Somebody removed the sack. The bright light stung Cody’s eyes and he squeezed them shut.

  “That’s fine, let your eyes adjust,” said the man. “We’re in no hurry here.”

  Cody slowly opened his eyes. He was in a small, fairly unimpressive office. He’d expected something more opulent from a guy who could send men off to their deaths.

  The older guy on the cleanup crew was in the room but not the younger one. He stood off to the side, next to a man who looked about thirty but whose facial hair looked like a teenage boy trying to grow his first mustache. The man speaking to Cody was middle-aged, wore a rumpled suit, and looked like a raging asshole.

  “You must be Cody,” said the man. He tore the duct tape off Cody’s mouth, making no effort not to remove skin in the process.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m Dominick Winlaw.”

  “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “It’s been an interesting day. More casualties than I would’ve expected when I woke up this morning.”

  “I know, right?”

  “You’re not doing a very good job of pretending that you’re not terrified,” said Winlaw.

  “I’m not ashamed of that,” said Cody.

  “We’re going to play a little game called Prove Your Usefulness. The way it works is, you’re going to prove that it’s worth it for me to keep you around, or I slash your throat. It may seem like a quick and relatively painless death, but I assure you, choking on your own blood is an awful way to go.”

  Cody nodded. “You really didn’t have to sell me on the idea that having my throat slashed would suck.”

  “Do you know Allison Teal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know where to find her?”

  “Right now? No. I’ve been in a van with a bag over my head.”

  Winlaw smiled. “I like you. But I don’t like you enough to spare your life if you bring nothing of value. So focus less on trying to be charming and more on letting me know what you can offer.”

  “I really wasn’t trying to be charming,” said Cody. “Any chance you could cut the tape off my hands and feet?”

  “No.”

  “It’s awkward to have a conversation when all I can do is flop around on the floor. C’mon, there are three of you. Where am I gonna go?”

  “I didn’t get to where I am by cutting people free before they’d earned it.”

  “That’s fair, I guess. I just figured that a goodwill gesture on your part would help with the negotiations.”

  “You figured wrong,” said Winlaw. “My goodwill gesture is that your throat doesn’t have a huge red gash across it. That’s not going to last much longer. In fact, I’m done with you. Matt, open up his throat.”

  The older guy from the cleanup crew reached into his pocket, took out a switchblade knife, and snapped out the blade.

  “Okay, okay,” said Cody. “I can help you find her.”

  Winlaw looked over at Matt. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

  Matt crouched down next to Cody, who frantically tried to scoot away even though it was ridiculous to think that he could get away. “Seriously! I can help! I’ll behave.”

  “You’re acting like we’re equals, and that is most definitely not the case,” said Winlaw. “I’m going to dissuade you from that notion.”

  “I’m dissuaded,” Cody insisted.

  “Cut his throat a little,” Winlaw told Matt. “Make it bleed but don’t make it spew blood all over the place. I still want him to be able to answer questions.”

  “No! Please! I apologize! I really apologize!”

  “I recommend that you lie still,” said Winlaw. “He’s very good at slitting throats, but if you keep squirming he might cut deeper than he intends to. Close your eyes, lie there, and take it.”

  Cody decided that further pleading would indeed be the end of him. He closed his eyes and tensed up his entire body, praying that it was a bluff. Matt would press the blade against his neck, hold it there for a moment, then pull it away, followed by a warning that the next time he wouldn’t get off so easy.

  He felt the tip of the blade press into his neck, just under his jawbone, not breaking the skin.

  Then it broke the skin.

  Cody let out a whimper as the blade slowly moved. It didn’t feel like Matt was cutting deep but it hurt like hell. His instincts were to pull away, but he forced himself to remain perfectly still.

  After making about an inch-long cut, Matt pulled the knife away.

  “You can open your eyes again,” said Winlaw. “He’s done.”

  Cody wanted to just start weeping, but he didn’t. He opened his eyes.

  “You’ll get one more chance after this,” Winlaw informed him. “He’ll do the same thing, but to your dick. Unless genital mutilation is your kink, I’d advise you to cooperate.”

  “I will. I completely will.” Cody tried to sit up but couldn’t. “Like I told Daxton—”

  “You talked to Daxton?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting. Please continue.”

  “Like I told him, I have no loyalty to Allison,” Cody lied. “I barely know her. We had one date, and it was barely a date. We didn’t even kiss. There were no sparks at all, but even if there were sparks, I saw what she did to your men. Maybe she was defending herself and maybe she wasn’t, but I will never get that image out of my brain. It’s not safe for her to be out there. Who knows who she’ll do this to next? Maybe she’ll kill a little kid.”

  “You’re making a case for why you’re on my side, but not for how you can help me.”

  “We had a second date planned. I was going to her house after work. As far as she knows, I think it’s still on. She won’t want me showing up there or getting worried and calling the police, so she’ll find a way to get in touch with me.”

  This part was all true, of course, since he didn’t want to get caught in a lie. He wasn’t yet sure how he’d eventually turn this against Winlaw and his men, b
ut he’d figure something out. He sure as hell wasn’t going to lure Allison into a trap. He’d die before he did that. He didn’t want to die, but he wasn’t as devoted to staying alive as they might think.

  “Does she know your number?” asked Winlaw.

  “Yes.”

  “Even if she doesn’t have her phone?”

  “Maybe. I’m not hard to track down. She could Google me pretty easily, I’d think.”

  Winlaw extended his hand toward Matt. “Let me have his phone.”

  Matt took Cody’s cell phone out of his pocket and gave it to him.

  “What’s your passcode?” Winlaw asked.

  “I don’t have one.”

  “You don’t?” Winlaw tapped the screen. “You sure don’t. Why would you not have a passcode?”

  “I just never set one up.”

  “What if your phone got stolen?”

  “I’d want them to figure out who I was so they could return it.”

  “What about your banking information?”

  “I don’t do anything like that on my phone. I mostly just use it for games.”

  “Can you believe that?” Winlaw asked the other men in the room. “Leaves his phone unlocked. That’s insane.”

  “I could put one on now.”

  “Let me see,” said Winlaw, swiping away at the screen. “Yep, you did call her. That’s good. Don’t get many calls, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Not many text messages, either. It doesn’t look like you’re a very popular fellow, Cody. Well, let’s see what you and Allison texted about. You were worried about her. You didn’t think she sounded okay. You’re a pretty good friend for somebody you just met. Trying to get a little bit of action, were you?”

  “Not on the second date.”

  “Third date rule. That’s right. Good for you for being a gentleman.” Winlaw set the phone on his desk. “Did she say anything about any kind of interesting and unusual abilities she might have?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “In bed?”

  “I mean, telekinetic powers.”

  “Are you asking me if Allison is psychic?”

  “Psychic isn’t the same thing. At least I don’t think it is. Apparently your friend can do amazing things with her mind, like murdering several of my employees.”