The Video Store

by S J Sargent

  Still nothing. They just kept walking. Finally, the guy stopped her in her tracks.

  “…how did you know I worked there?”

  The hood hid her smirk. “I’ve seen you there before. You’re not as anonymous as you think. You’re just a loser trying to get attention.” He pushed her along and they kept walking. “So why me? Are you ever going to tell me that?”

  It was clear he was done talking. The walk got steeper as they started to head uphill. Each step seemed like an eternity. Her ankles throbbed. Each step felt like she was walking in thorns. Amy started to get lightheaded and finally collapsed onto the ground. Her hands covered her stomach, protecting her womb.

  Her only hope was that someone would discover her body in time and maybe…possibly…be able to rescue her unborn child. Maybe her legacy would be through her offspring, an impractical and impossible wish that she knew couldn’t possibly come true. Not in the first trimester. Yet as she felt her stomach and the child she would never meet, she received a brief moment of peace in knowing that they would be together for her final moments.

  She started gagging. Struggling to breathe. Looking up at the sky, but seeing nothing but black through her hood. With her handcuffed hands, she ripped off her hood so she could see the sky one last time. It was beautiful. A canvas of stars.

  Amy put her hands over her throat, trying to figure out what was bringing on this spontaneous episode of choking. She now looked up at her abductor, who smiled back. Her breaths became less frequent. Her eyes went bloodshot. Through congested breathing, she gave her final statement.

  “You can’t hide forever. Not in Pecos. You, you will get caught. You will get caught.”

  As she rested her hands over her womb, she let out one final exhale. Just in time to hear the reply.

  “You have no idea how easy it is to hide in this town.”

  46

  The Keys

  Tuesday, December 21 – 6:40 P.M.

  “Everything okay, Alex?” Peter stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him scramble around the counters. Alex froze. This quick getaway would have been a lot quicker if Alex knew where either of the cars’ keys were. “Where’s Molly?”

  “She’s, um, not feeling well.” Alex set down the collection of papers and random junk he’d grabbed off the counter in his search. The clutter spilled over onto the floor, drawing in Peter even more. “I don’t know what it is.” Alex added. “I think it might be best if I take her to a hospital to make sure she’s okay. Would you mind if we borrowed your car?”

  Peter grabbed his coat off the hook. “I’ll come too. I’d rather get out of this house anyway.”

  “No.” Alex shot back. Everything hinged on Ken staying, which meant Peter staying to distract him. “It’s just that Molly’s feeling kind of…vulnerable. I think she’s a little embarrassed. I think it might be…feminine stuff.”

  Peter nodded, slowly putting his jacket back, but holding on to the keys. “What can I do to help?”

  “Do you mind if I have the keys?” Alex asked.

  Peter pulled the keys out of his pocket and examined them. He trusted Alex, but hated the idea of being left in the house without him. The three of them had been together since the night before, and he hated the idea of splitting up.

  “Are you sure?” He asked.

  Alex abruptly grabbed the keys out of his hand and smiled. “Thanks, man. We should be back in an hour or so…”

  Lies, of course.

  Peter remained frozen with his hand still in front of him, though now empty. Alex gave him a look, both of them knowing there were details unshared. Before Peter could say anything, Ken barged in the kitchen.

  “Uh oh. What did I miss?” Ken laughed. No one else did.

  “Nothing,” Alex said. “I’m just running out for a little bit. Molly’s not feeling well. So I was going to take her a nearby clinic or hospital. We should be right back.”

  Ken put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “While you’re out, can you pick me up some Bud Light?” Ken stopped himself. “Oh crap. I forgot. You’re still in high school. Never mind. Maybe some smokes? Are you old enough…how old are you? I need something to clear my head.”

  Alex nodded, even though he was 17. “Sure thing.” He slid open the glass door and creeped out, watching Peter’s stare get thicker. Before he could say anything else, Alex got in the car with Molly and took off down the driveway. Peter’s hand rested on the window as he watched the car slowly disappear into the dark, rural setting.

  Peter believed Jonathan was the killer. So why was his stomach starting to feel nauseous? Why was he feeling so unsettled about this?

  “When do you think they’re going to announce about Jonathan?” Ken asked from across the room. He was now back in his chair from before, settled back in for another movie. Peter stayed at the window, not giving a response. “It better be soon. Or people are going to start burning the town down.” Ken laughed at himself and then tuned back into the movie.

  Peter slid outside and pulled out his cell phone. Two rings later, Alex picked up.

  “What’s up?”

  “What’s going on, man?” Peter whispered into the receiver as he sat on one of the old lawn chairs in the back. “Why…why did you leave so quickly?”

  “Nothing. Just…stay there. Whatever you do,” Alex said.

  “Why? What’s this urgency? You guys disappear to the backyard without me and then drive off. And I’m supposed to just stay here with Ken?”

  “Exactly,” Alex replied.

  “Why? What happened to us working together Peter looked back in the house at Ken. He stepped a little further in the backyard to continue the conversation.

  “Listen. You have to stay there and keep Ken in the house. Detective Bolin is on his way. He’s going to arrest Ken. We need you to stay there to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

  “Hold on. Why is he arresting Ken?” Peter asked. No answer. “Alex. How does he know where we are?” Peter looked at his phone. Alex had hung up. He shoved his phone in his pocket and sat outside for a moment. Looking out at the woods, he contemplated making a run for it. But who knows where those woods end? His eyes raced around the backyard, searching for a hiding spot.

  All he noticed was the old storage shed, right on the edge of the woods. It looked ancient, older than him. A mixture of wooden and metal walls made up the outside of it. Peter debated running in there to hide until Alex and Molly got back.

  “Peter!” Ken yelled from inside. Peter froze. “Peter! Help me with this!” When Peter still didn’t reply, he gave a third attempt to reel him in. “Dude!”

  Against his will and every instinct in him, Peter’s pushover personality caved. He went inside, abandoning his plan. Walking down the hall towards his voice, he found Ken sitting in one of the bedrooms. He was looking in a closet, trying to bring down an old box of movies.

  “Bro,” Ken said to him. “Help me with this thing!” Peter stepped in the room, looking around for potential weapons. He spotted an old table lamp in the corner, probably made around the time of Nixon’s presidency. If needed, that would be his backup.

  Together, they pulled the huge box of VHS tapes down and set them on the ground. Peter caught a whiff of Ken’s musty, cigarette-stained shirt along the way. He tried not to gag.

  Ken popped open the box like a kid at Christmas. “These things are ancient!” He picked up a dusty copy of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre - one of Movie Madness’s most popular rentals every October. “Dang. This thing is older than me! It’s an original! This thing is a collector’s item.”

  Peter peeked in with him, not nearly as intrigued. “All horror movies. Alex’s cousin is not much different than him.”

  “Nothing wrong with a good horror movie.” Ken smiled as he clutched a VHS in either hand and examined the worn back covers. “Man, I wish I still had my VCR. VHS’s are so cheap now. And eventually…” Ken raised his eyebrows and nodded. “They’re gonna be in high demand again. Ju
st like vinyl records. That’s why I always told Christine that we need to keep a VHS section. People dig that stuff now.”

  Peter held a movie in front of him as he subtly peeked out the window and tried to map out an escape plan. “Alex doesn’t even need to work in a video store. His cousin has his own video store right here…”

  Ken pointed to the side of the box that said ‘ALEX’ in sharpie. “I don’t think so, man. These are his. Probably his overflow collection or something. I mean, there’s like three other boxes in there. He’s obsessed!”

  “Looks like Movie Madness is the perfect job for him.”

  “Correction.” Ken finally looked up at him. “It was the perfect job. Until the manager got snatched!” Ken stopped when he noticed Peter frowning. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it…just trying to keep things light…”

  Peter didn’t bother hiding how annoyed he was.

  Before they could continue looking through the rest of Alex’s movie collection, they heard a car pulling up to the house. Both looked at each other, then scurried to the window.

  “Back already, huh?” Ken said.

  “Um, no.” Peter pointed out. Ken looked over at the cop car pulling up the driveway. It stopped and sat in the driveway for a moment. Peter and Ken both had a chance to exchange looks before seeing the terrible twist in the night for both of them.

  Detective Bolin got out of the car, surveying the property, hand remaining on his holster.

  “Gentlemen! I need you to come outside immediately.”

  Ken looked over at Peter. “How did he find us out here? Did you talk to him?”

  “If you don’t come out…” Bolin kept yelling from the front yard. “…then I’m coming in!” Then he followed up with the old cliché. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  “Don’t blame me.” Peter put up his hands in an artificial surrender. “What do you expect him to do? Just act like you didn’t?” Peter shook his head. “I’m surprised he ever let you go in the first place.”

  Ken clenched his fist. Anger mixed with a severe lack of sleep had brought him to the end of his fuse. With a swift and clean swing, he punched Peter square in the jaw.

  Peter flew across the floor and tumbled into the side of the guest bed. Dazed and baffled, he tried to regain his sight. He’d never been punched before, let alone sucker punched. It felt worse than the first time he got tackled during junior varsity football. He just laid on the ground as blood began to drip out of his lip. The feeling was just as humiliating as it was painful. He said nothing as his face rested on the shag carpet.

  He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to be there. He just wanted to go back to Pecos and act like this past week never happened. If only he could.

  The silence was broken by the sound of the front door opening and footsteps entering the front room. Ken hopped up on his feet and tried to make a plan with Peter, as if he hadn’t just punched him in the face.

  “We have to get out of here,” Ken said.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Peter glared back. Blood smeared on his face. Tears in his eyes.

  Ken scaled back, returning the glare. He ran over and turned the lock, then flattened himself against the wall.

  “Open it now!” Bolin yelled as he arrived at the door seconds later. He profusely banged on it and started kicking at it with everything he had. Ken ran to the window. Rusted shut, it wouldn’t budge.

  “Help me!” He yelled.

  Peter didn’t move.

  “If you want to get out of here, this is our only chance…”

  “What’s the point of running anymore?” Peter said.

  Ken ignored him and smashed the glass. His car was just outside the window. All he had to do was crawl out. He cut his hand clearing out the broken glass. Grunting, he squeezed it with his other hand.

  “Looks like we’re even,” Peter said from the floor. He still hadn’t moved since the punch. It had stunned him, and emotionally paralyzed him. Peter looked around at the worn, panel walls and let out the longest, exhausted sigh. He was sick of this house. Sick of running. Sick of the constant fear of what might happen next. He just wanted the ending credits to roll.

  And he got his wish.

  Bolin kicked in the door. Gun in front of him. He surveyed the scene. Ken was in front of the shattered window, holding his bleeding hand. His body was fifty pounds too heavy to even think about squeezing through it. Peter was on the floor, sulking in a growing puddle of his own blood.

  “Looks like you two aren’t getting along,” Bolin said. He kept his gun aimed back and forth between both of them. “Where is everyone else?”

  “How did you find us?” Peter asked.

  The detective walked over and put handcuffs on Peter, who didn’t bother to fight it. Bolin pulled him up on his feet and sat him on the bed. Then he looked over at Ken. “You going to try to run again?”

  Ken just glared forward. Hands still clinched from the last punch. Blood leaking out the side. Peter was eager to see him encore punch Bolin, just for the charade of it all. And Ken actually contemplated it.

  “It’s over.” Bolin spoke with no ounce of doubt. “I have enough evidence to lock up both of you up until we can sort out which of you caused all this.” He paused and gave a smile of satisfaction. “Now it’s just figuring out which one of you is the killer and which one just has really stupid judgment…”

  “You have nothing. No evidence.” Ken said.

  Bolin slammed Ken against the wall while he handcuffed his hands behind his back. “Christine had some nice last words. Before she choked to death.” Peter looked over at Bolin, who smirked. “Sorry. I know she was your girlfriend. Though, maybe I shouldn’t be sorry. Maybe you knew that was going to happen, right?”

  Bolin held up his gun again and led them both to the back of his car. He threw them both in the back like they were a pair of old shoes and slammed the door behind him. With a new confidence in his step, Bolin swung around to the front of the car and got in. Two suspects in custody. And there was no way he was letting either of them get away until he figured out which one was his guy.

  “Now.” The detective spun around to face them. “Where are Alex and Molly? I know they’re here somewhere.”

  Peter glanced over at Ken, then smiled.

  “They left.” He tried not to grin, but Bolin made it hard. Alex’s skepticism of Detective Bolin had clearly done a number on Peter. He had no confidence or trust in the man’s ability to solve this case. Not usually the rebellious type, a new side was coming out.

  “Where exactly would they have gone?”

  Peter shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  47

  Back To Pecos

  Tuesday, December 21 – 7:18 P.M.

  It was dark by the time Alex and Molly got back to town. Seeing the familiar buildings and street names again felt strange to her this time. Like a step backward. The snow-covered streets were still full of cars as curfew wasn’t set to kick in for a few hours. Many of the stores were already closed down for Christmas, but that didn’t stop people from being out and about.

  “It’s like a bizarre horror movie. Set at Christmas.” Alex joked. “Do those exist? Christmas horror movies?”

  “I would have to check our shelves, sir. Please stand by…” Molly sneered. “You know, that’s actually what’s been missing this past week. All of this has chaos has distracted me from watching all my favorite classic Christmas movies.”

  “See, that’s what I don’t get,” Alex interrupted. “You love all types of classic movies. Classic romance. Classic musicals. Classic Christmas movies. But you won’t watch Hitchcock or any of the classic suspense movies. Those are some of the best. They changed the movie industry!”

  “It’s not that I don’t like them. It’s just…life is scary enough. Why add more to it?” Alex didn’t have a good rebuttal.

  “Why do you like them so much?” She finally asked.

  A statick
y radio version of Silent Night served as background music to his upcoming monologue. “There’s something unique about a scary movie. The way it affects you. The way it takes you into a completely different world. The way a suspense story keeps you on edge because you don’t know what’s going to happen. Or who to trust. So it makes you tense. And anxious. And vulnerable. Even though you know it’s artificial. It still works.” Alex paused, nodding in agreement to his own statement. “That’s why I want to make them. If I had to do something with my life after I graduate, it would be that. Make scary movies. I know it’s dumb…”

  “It’s not.” Molly put her hand on his. “It’s not dumb if you love it. I mean, clearly you’re not alone. People rent from that section of Movie Madness every hour. I think you would do a good job.”

  “Thanks.”

  It was the first time Alex had ever been told that from anyone, including his parents. He couldn’t not smile at her. Molly thought of something else to say. “Plus, you never would have started working at Movie Madness if you didn’t love movies as much as you do. And we never would have met. So scary movies brought us together.”

  “And are keeping us together!” He joked.

  “But seriously…” she continued. “All these clues. This whole case. Your passion to connect all the dots and piece together evidence. Without your obsession with all these mysteries, I don’t think we would have been able to get this far in the case. There’s no way. Especially with Bolin. You’ve seen so many things he’s missed.”

  Alex quickly defended Molly back to herself. “Well, don’t give me too much credit. You’re the one that figured out the message from Amy. I had it wrong.”

  They held hands as the song switched over to Silver Bells. One of Molly’s favorites. As the car slowly edged through the slushy roads in downtown Pecos, she began to wonder what her parents would say to her when she got home. Running away was unlike anything she’d done before. Molly wondered if they were going to overreact and think she was going off the deep end. Or would they finally understand her fear?