Sammy tapped on the glass. “Hello.”
They didn’t move. Their hands lay open and to their sides. She’d seen Uncle Danny enough to know what they were up to. Sammy pushed open the door. A wave of death and putrid decay choked her. Sammy stumbled back, covering her nose, and squeezed out through the wooden flap. She bent over, not sure if she’d throw up. She spit out the taste of it and breathed in the cool night air.
The next building loomed ahead. It was getting late, but she was in no rush to get to it. This building had no wood covering the doorway. It was set up like the other building with no front door, an entranceway, and a door to the lobby. The door’s glass panel was missing. Broken glass encrusted the frame. The ceiling was intact and no smell of death. Inside, the stairway was clear except for the remnants of a chair, sitting propped against the corner of the first landing. The slight sweet scent of burning wood wafted through the air. Light pulsed under two doors farther down the hallway. The building was occupied. That could be good or bad. If she had time, she’d take a measure of the tenants. She doubted the psycho bitch would be so accommodating.
Sammy took the stairs to the second floor. It was dark, but she could see the padding of the chair, a ripped pillow, half a table with legs upright, a smattering of cushion batting, and a slew of other items small and nondescript. None of the upstairs apartments showed any signs of anyone living there. The first apartment was strewn with broken furniture. A cool breeze whispered past her—broken windows too. Structurally, it looked fine though.
Uncle Danny used to always say, “Be safe and choose the apartment the farthest away. Nobody likes to walk.”
Sammy headed to the apartment at the end of the hallway. She didn’t mind walking. That apartment smelled a little musky and dank, which meant it wasn’t visited and the windows were intact. She left the door opened and looked for a window to air out the place. The big window in the living room had a crank to open. After a few turns, the handle broke, but at least she was getting air.
There was a stuffed chair along the wall. It looked okay, but the morning may show it differently. A couple of big stuffed pillows sat beside it, probably from a long-gone sofa. A table and two chairs stood off in what might be considered a dining room. One of the chairs was a little wobbly, and one end of the table dipped. It wasn’t like her apartment, but it’d do.
Sammy figured the large pillows were big enough for each twin to sleep on. She pounded one pillow, sending up a cloud of dust. She buried her face into the crook of her elbow and rushed to the window. “Won’t do that again.”
She had to get this place ready by the time the twins got off from school tomorrow, and she wasn’t seeing a way of that happening. The place would be fine for her but not the twins. The bathroom had the stench of an open sewer, and the bedroom smelled like something died in there. At least it wasn’t human, or if it was, it was long ago.
As she walked back into the living room, she thought she saw a beam of light run along the living room wall. She froze, wondering if it was a passing drone. She waited a moment: no light beam, no sound, and no voices. She continued into the living room. A figure stood in the front doorway. A floorboard creaked. A beam of light flooded in, blinding her.
“Look what we have here, a mouse rummaging in the dark.” The voice was deep like a guy’s, with a slight singsong cadence of someone who was drunk or high.
The light flicked away from her. Two figures stood by the doorway now, guys by the size of them.
“What are you doing in here?” the second figure asked.
He seemed more angry than drunk. Sammy couldn’t make up her mind which was worse. “If this is yours, I’ll get going.”
A dim, yellow light splashed over her. “You a girl?”
His voice had a breathiness she didn’t like. “No.”
He banged the light, but it remained dim. He turned it off. “Sounds like a girl.”
“There’s one way to find out,” the first one said. He had a giddiness to his voice that turned her stomach.
The second guy snickered like a snorting pig. “Pull down your pants, and if you got a ding-a-ling, then you ain’t a girl.”
Sammy reached in for the bearings. She needed them closer to be effective.
The dim light splashed back on her. “Try yours. Can’t see nothing with this light.”
The bright light blinded her.
“Why didn’t you put it on earlier?”
“Trying to conserve.”
Sammy put her hand out and turned away from the light.
“Lower,” Dim Light said. “We don’t want to see her face.”
Sammy rolled the bearings in her hand, waiting for one of them to come closer.
Dim Light waved his hand. “Okay, pull them down.”
Was there a fire escape to this apartment? There wouldn’t be time anyway. “Pull yours down.”
“They’ll come down, darling,” he said, taking a step closer. “Once I see the goods. You can bet your last dollar on that.” He snorted again.
The drunk flashlight guy held his position by the door. She might be able to get by him. “I think I’ll keep them up.”
Dim Light took another step. “You take them down now, or I’ll rip them off.”
He still wasn’t close enough. Sammy let a few of the bearings drop into her pocket. She’d go for a narrower, closer shot to the face.
“You want me to rip them off?” he asked. Dim Light crossed in front of the light. His eyes had a crazed look. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’d turn you on?”
Sammy reared back. The light went out. Dim Light turned back. Her hand shot forward, flinging the bearings to the back and side of his head.
His hand flew up.
Sammy ran.
Dim Light flung his arm savagely.
She ducked, but his hand clipped her shoulder. Sammy stumbled, almost running into Flashlight Guy, who grabbed her jacket, almost knocking her off her feet. She twisted under his hand to free herself.
Flashlight Guy held firm. “Got a live one here,” he said as though he was looking for help.
Sammy ran her shoulder into his gut.
He doubled over, swinging the light at her. The light grazed her head and smashed against the doorjamb. Pieces flew everywhere.
A hand reached down and grabbed her by the neck. She choked for breath. He slammed her against the wall, exploding fireworks at the back of her head.
Her vision blurred, but she could feel the hot breath.
Dim Light held her against the wall. “If you don’t have a hole, I’m gonna give you one.”
“Where’s your light?” Flashlight Guy asked.
“Don’t need one now.”
“My light’s busted. I got to find the pieces.”
“It’s in my side pocket.”
Flashlight Guy turned on the light, casting a yellow glow to the white pieces scattered on the floor. “Look at this shit.”
Dim Light turned, exposing the side of his face blistered and bleeding. “I’m guessing that light is history.”
“The bitch broke it,” he said, shoveling pieces into his hand.
He let go of her neck and shoved his arm against her chest, pinning her arms to the sides. He breathed heavily on her. She turned away from him. He reached down between her legs, forcing his hand between them. He smiled, showing missing teeth. “No ding-a-ling here.”
Flashlight Guy pulled the door away from the wall and searched behind it. “There are pieces even back here.”
Dim Light ran his hand down her back and along her legs. “Nice. We’re going to have some fun.”
Sammy squirmed, but he had her pinned down pretty good. “Please.”
“Darling, after tonight you’ll be begging for more.” He slipped his hand into the waistband.
Sammy thrashed against the wall, ripping the waistband. The arm pinning her dropped. She butted his face, freeing herself. She kicked Dim Light between the legs, knocking him over Fla
shlight Guy, who was picking up parts of the broken light. Sammy ran for the door. A hand grabbed her arm. Sammy spun around and kicked Dim Light in the face.
She dashed out the door and down the hallway. Flashlight Guy was right behind her, running fast for a guy who seemed drunk a short while ago. She spun around the legs on the half table, catching him as he reached out for her jacket. He tumbled, banging into the wall.
Sammy raced down the steps and out the door. She ran until her legs and chest burned. There was no sign of them. She leaned back against the storefront of a convenience store and slid down. She cupped her ripped trousers, dropped her head between her legs, and wept.
Chapter Forty-Five
______________________________
Sammy walked by the opened next-door apartment. Leo was inside, flicking the lights off and on. “Leo? What are you doing here?”
Leo spun around. “Sam, I was looking for you.”
“You have the wrong apartment.”
“I knocked. No one answered.”
“You thought I was hiding in here?”
“No,” he said. “Oh, I understand the confusion now. I’ve decided to move into this apartment, assuming I can work out an agreement.”
She pulled up her trousers. “Yeah, good places are hard to find.”
Leo looked down. “What happened?”
Sammy folded the jacket over the rip. “Got caught on something.”
“On one of your theft excursions?”
Sammy gazed back at her apartment. “Cindy didn’t answer?”
Leo shook his head.
“Must be working nights now.”
“Well, now that we’re neighbors, we can spend more time together.”
That wasn’t on the list of things she wanted to do.
“If you have time, we might try visualization techniques to stimulate dermis color fluctuations.”
She wanted to go but couldn’t move from the spot.
Leo smiled. “Perhaps tomorrow then.”
Sammy stared into the apartment. He had the light off, but she could see everything. That helped her escape Flashlight Guy.
Leo was rambling on about stuff. He looked at her as though it was her turn to say something. “How about tomorrow morning, say nine?”
Sammy shook her head.
“Too early? Ten?”
“Whatever plans you got, the answer is no.” Sammy looked back at her apartment. Why couldn’t she go? A hot shower would do her good.
“I’m just trying to help you make the most of your talents.”
“What good are these talents when somebody’s got me by the neck? If there was a way to turn into a porcupine or something like that, it might be worth being a freak.”
Leo puckered his lips, gazing down at the ripped trousers. “The rip wasn’t from catching on something, was it?”
Sammy looked away. Why couldn’t she go? A tear rolled down her cheek. She flicked it away.
“There are some pharmaceuticals I could recommend in dealing with PTSD. There’s one in particular that diminishes the emotional response to the event.”
Sammy looked into the dark apartment. “I don’t want to forget it.”
“Well, it’s not really forgetting—”
“Leo, stop talking.”
He let out a deep breath, giving off a low whistle. He reached over for the light. The light gave the apartment harsher, colder tones.
Sammy shivered.
Leo strolled inside and lifted a cushion leaning against one of the living room chairs. Dust bloomed. He dropped it, waving his hand.
Sammy pulled her jacket tight.
“No shortage of dust,” Leo said, not bothering to look back at her.
She cupped the waist of her trousers, thought they might fall.
Leo circled the apartment and came back toward her. “Was yours this bad?”
Sammy nodded. “They’re always dusty, no matter where you go.”
“Perhaps I can get someone from the club to assist me.”
“You mean do it for you.”
He grinned. “That would be preferable.”
Yeah, even when they came here, they got somebody else to do the dirty work.
Igor bounded toward them. “So you like, yes?”
“It’s a little dirtier and dustier than I’m accustomed to.”
“I am not housekeeper. It has hot and cold running water and electricity. I could not get heating to work. You buy heater or get thief to steal it.” Igor gave a nod to her.
“This thief’s got a name.”
“If there is anything in here that you do not want, you put in junk room,” Igor said, looking at Sammy as if it was for her benefit. “Junk room is at end of hallway, not in this room, or that room, or other room.”
Why was he looking at her like that?
“I will charge fee if I see junk showing up in other rooms, then we will see who laughs. I will have last laugh.” Igor gave her another look like it was about her.
“Did I do something to you, Igor?”
“You think I am stupid Russian you make fool of?”
Had he heard her imitating him?
“You and friend had good laugh, yes?”
Sammy couldn’t remember anything malicious.
“Make me like schoolboy, running around and doing favors.”
“Favors? What favors?”
“She makes list of what she would make me do?”
“Make you do?” Sammy asked. “Now I know what you’re saying is bullshit because you don’t do anything unless you’re getting paid for it.”
“She made promises.”
“What kind of promises?”
“I am man, she is woman. Do I need to say more?”
She definitely needed a hot shower. It might help purge her of the image.
“If she knocks on the door, I will not let her in. I will do nothing for her.”
“She lost her keys?”
Igor glared at her. “You gave her keys?”
Sammy sighed. “You gave us both a set of keys. Gave it to her first, in fact.”
“Cindy?”
“Who else?”
“Tatiana. She said you were friends. I saw you talking to her.”
“Did you let her into my apartment last Saturday?”
“She was friend. I see you talk to her.”
“I was ignoring her, hoping she’d go away. You let her into my apartment so she could make a sieve out of my chair.”
“The ripped chair that was here?” Igor said, pointing to where she left it.
“You saw it?”
He nodded. “I put it in junk room. She did that to chair?”
“Yeah, she has a thing for chairs and yellow birds.” Sammy walked down to the end of the hallway. At least this hallway wasn’t as long as the other one.
“There is no light in the junk room,” Igor yelled out to her.
“I can see okay.”
Leo jogged after her. “You have good visual acuity in low light?”
Sammy opened the door to the junk room. “Saved me from running into a table.”
“Tell me what you see in the room.”
“Junk, Leo. Didn’t you get the memo? It’s the junk room.”
“Yes, yes, of course, but what do you see in particular? To me, it’s just a black void.”
“Are you testing again?”
“Chalk it up to idle curiosity. Can you see the ripped chair? How much detail can you make out?”
“What is it with you? Is it like some kind of itch that if you don’t scratch, you’ll go crazy?”
Igor stepped behind them. “So here we stand, looking at dark room.”
“Can you see anything in there?” Leo asked Igor.
“There is no light,” Igor said. “It is junk room.”
“Sam, tell him what you can see.”
“Like he said, there’s no light.”
“Do you want to stand here looking at dark room, or do you wa
nt to rent apartment?”
Sammy turned to Leo. “There’s no time like now to get that apartment, Leo.”
Leo fished out a bottle of the psychedelics.
Igor smiled, putting his arm around Leo. “Let me show you your new apartment. The refrigerator works, but needs small part.”
They walked back down the hallway, Leo pestering him with questions, and Igor swatting them away like flies.
The chair had at least a dozen cuts in it. A broken wooden chair stood beside it. Behind that was the headboard she’d dragged in weeks ago. Sammy stepped inside and closed the door. There was less light but she could still see okay. She pulled up her trousers and sat back in the chair. The uneven tufts of the knife cuts bothered her at first, but soon enough she didn’t notice them.
Chapter Forty-Six
______________________________
Sammy looked down at the key to the apartment. She remembered being at the twins’ school, and now she was here. The door was unlocked, but Cindy wasn’t in the kitchen, bathroom, or bedroom. Did she go to work?
She sat on the sofa and kicked her feet up on the low table. The butchered chair was comfortable enough last night, so that wasn’t the reason she didn’t get much sleep. Maybe it was because the room was cold from a broken window.
Sammy figured today was the day the psycho bitch would strike, tomorrow at the latest. She was betting on today but didn’t have a clue how. At least the twins couldn’t be snatched after coming home from school. She’d made sure of that, sort of.
“Sam,” Cindy shouted by the door. She was wearing her white terrycloth robe. She jogged over in flip-flops. “Where were you? I was so worried.”
Sammy couldn’t think of where she could’ve gone in a robe and flip-flops. “Did you know today is Saturday?”
Cindy nodded.
“I waited outside the school for the twins. It took me a while before I figured out that the school was closed.”
The Girl Thief Page 23