“Jaspierre, no, please, I want to help,” he said, terrified she’d try to lock him up.
“He might kill you!”
“You might kill me too!” He grinned, and he pulled a sword out of the carving on the bed. “I’m coming.”
She smiled. “Okay. But the cats have got to be safe.”
“Absolutely, I agree. What is the plan?”
“Well, I guess… I guess we can leave them in here.” She pulled out another blade from the bed. “Trade, though, I like that one better.”
“Okay.” They switched blades and locked the door behind them. They moved through the house silently, searching and looking.
Eventually, they made it to the kitchen. Lucas saw Marcy with her mouth sliced and her jaw hanging, and he retched before he warned his feet to move out of the way. He held back a sob. That sweet, chatty woman did not deserve this. There was blood smeared in the office, where the fight started, and ended in the kitchen. They didn’t bother to check on Russell. They had bigger things to do.
The house was clear. They sat by the pool.
“I have been thinking, and I have a plan. Since he isn’t here, I know where he is. He is taunting me, that nasty bastard. He breaks in to leave me a warning. So I am gonna go kill him. I’m sure he is waiting for me.”
Lucas wasn’t sure what to say.
“I am gonna need you to be my alibi, but it’s difficult because you can’t exist. But, I have these two cars. So, you are gonna be me. I have wigs, a dress, and the whole bit.”
Lucas stared at her in disbelief.
“You are going to be me, and have my car and provide me an alibi. I was thinking like, driving around going to fast food joints, so you have receipts and are on traffic cameras and everything.”
“Dressed like you, looking like a girl?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you afraid I will run away?”
She looked at him and smiled. “Nope.”
“And while, I drive around and get a ridiculous amount of crappy food, you are going to be fighting for your life?”
“No. Not at all. I will kill him.”
“How will you even know where he is?”
“I know he will be waiting where he… well, I know where. I am sure of it. Should have killed him years ago.”
She stood as though that was enough to settle it all. “I’ll go get the cars. You go find a dress, I guess.”
Lucas couldn’t find any words to respond. This was a horrible idea. But he knew he didn’t have a vote.
She drove the first Lexus and parked it in front of the house, and then she drove the second one up to the front of the house. Russell woke up from the racket and stared at the two shiny black vehicles. She took the keys inside with her, though, and he waited. He could hitch a ride out of hell.
Why two cars? What the hell was happening? It was smart to wait. Hopefully, everyone was leaving and he could go back inside and find a phone, or if he had a Chance, he would take the car. Walking out wasn’t an option; his feet and arm hurt even more after he slept. Extremely weary, he waited.
Lucas was standing at the top of the stairs by her room. “I didn’t want to let the cats out unless you were ready,” he explained, while he stood there.
Jaspierre smiled and unlocked the door, letting the cats run free. Jasp and Lucas went into her room and into her closet. She picked a long-sleeved maxi dress, bright red. It had a high neckline. She pulled out a bra too, and the long, brown wig curled perfectly. She couldn’t give him shoes, since his giant man feet were way bigger than hers. Then she pulled out a sparkly, large purse. She grabbed massive earrings and huge sunglasses.
“Well, hopefully, this will do.” She went far into the back of the closet and came back with a pile of money. “Here is my credit card; you’’ll have to practice signing like me of course. Cash too, but I mean, the cash is for places that don’t take credit cards.” She stuffed it all in the purse. Then she grabbed a backpack and picked a few blades to put in it, a taser, and a gun. “This is for me.”
“I realized, before we get ready, we should take care of Marcy,” she said. Neither of them looked like they wanted to do that task. “I’ll go put this in the car. You can start dragging her to the fireplace.”
She carried the bag outside and stood looking at both cars. “Hmm. Which one?” She looked at them and said, “Okay, well, this one for Lucas.” She dropped the purse on the passenger seat. “I guess that means you are mine.” She dropped the backpack on the other passenger seat. She walked to the back of Lucas’s car and pressed a hidden button underneath the license plate. The plate now said XXX.
She went to her car and pressed the license plate on hers, and the plate now changed one letter or number every three minutes. She went back in the house to help build the fire.
Chapter 16
Jaspierre’s nose was bleeding. Her head was aching. The police car she had stolen had a lot of buttons, but it was labeled. It was also filthy. Porn magazines littered the floor.
She still couldn’t believe her Lexus had accelerated like that. Chance must have done it. How could he have known which cars she would take? Crap. She’d have to get all her cars checked. So fucking irritating. How did he do that and still meet her at the lake?
Why hadn’t she killed him! Yes, she had just smashed her car into a lake, and yes, she wasn’t thinking clearly. But the whole point of this escapade was to murder him. Why hadn’t she done it? She knew why. Killing Katie had messed her up. She wasn’t like Mother, she couldn’t handle it. She didn’t really want to murder her childhood friend. Slaughtering people was horrible.
She flipped on the sirens and drove away faster. Cop cars were still flowing to the lake. Ditch this car soon. She tore off her wig and shoved it in her backpack. Up ahead, a green car pulled over to the right after seeing her lights flickering. She pulled in behind them and rummaged in the glove box and behind the seat. Chance was such a bastard. Behind a dildo in the glove box was a handgun with an ammo drum connected to it. Two extra drums sat underneath the gun. Everything was fully loaded. Under the seat sat a sawed-off rifle. She popped the trunk. It held a big container of zip-ties, a rocket launcher, four machine guns, and several bags of ammunition. She took the rocket launcher, and the only machine gun with ammo drums. She grabbed the duffel bag full of ammunition and rockets. Now she was set. Her backpack was slung on her back, a machine gun over her right shoulder, a rocket launcher on the other one, in her right hand was the handgun, and the other hand had the duffel bag. She had to tie her purse to her waist. She stepped out from behind the police vehicle and walked up to the driver in the car.
“Get out of the fucking car.”
The little old lady climbed out and didn’t say a word, pale and worried looking. Jaspierre zip-tied her hands together. Then Jaspierre dropped the duffel bag in the passenger seat, and set the rocket launcher and machine gun down. She pointed the handgun at the lady the entire time. She turned to the small woman and said, “Get in the back of the cop car. I’m sure they’ll find you eventually.” The woman obediently climbed in. She looked so relieved. Jasp turned off the lights and sirens and drove into the woods a little ways.
She walked back to the little lady’s car and put the handgun on top of the pile of guns in the passenger seat. Then she drove away. Her nose had stopped bleeding, but the cut on her forehead was still dripping.
Chapter 17
Jaspierre dropped the lady’s car off in the trashy neighborhood. She left it a fair six blocks from her secret fence gate. She took the guns and her belongings and left the keys on the seat with the window down. Hardly a block later, she heard it start up. She had tried to wipe her prints as best as she could, but, the best kinds of alibis were things like other people stripping and selling the vehicle.
At the gate, she was pleased to see it was locked. She unlocked it and then slipped through, locking it back up. The guns were heavy, but an ambush could be waiting at the house. So she trudg
ed them along with her. She saw smoke pouring out the chimney and worried. But then she remembered. Sweet Marcy, burning in the fireplace. She trudged slower and sadder. She felt tired.
Lucas was watching the clock. It was time to drive back. The car had a navigating computer in the dash. He wasn’t sure he would be able to find the place without it. He pressed buttons, and thankfully home was a few clicks away. Soon he was listening to the sweet voice of a cute girl telling him to turn right and left, and stay on the road.
He turned down the radio and drove with silence, except for the sweet lady’s voice in the computer. Admiring the houses as he passed them, he drove up to the fence. The cat. His memory demanded his attention. He slowed down considerably. Who knew where Ikali and Tessa might be? He slowed the car to a creeping pace, he felt so terrified. Heart pounding, he wanted to leap out of the car and run. His shirt grew sticky with sweat; all he could envision was her cats leaping out. Thump, thump. The crush of its body under the wheels. He stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It is gonna be okay. Calm down. He took another deep breath to slow his heart. Then he continued.
He got to the gate and wondered if he would have to get out and coax it apart. But as if by magic it swung open. It was so much more majestic than he had remembered. Elegantly sculptured bushes, the grand marble staircase. He stopped the car in front of the stairs. He got out and gathered up the last milkshake and the small bag of trash. He stared at the barn down the worn little path. What was in there exactly?
*** Twenty Two Years Earlier ***
Jaspierre’s hair was yanked and she tried to sit up before Mother lifted her from her bed by her hair.
“Wake up.” It was a command by a terrifying woman to a little five-year-old child.
Jaspierre held back the urge to cry. Crying made it worse. “Yes Mother?”
“You need to come to the barn.”
Jaspierre had never been in the barn before, but she never asked questions. “Okay.” Mother let go of her hair, and she caught herself with her feet.
Jasp slipped on her boots and a coat— it was a cold night— while her mother stood there glaring. “Are you ready?”
She nodded and hustled and they walked out into the dark. Her mother took her hand and they walked along together. “You are five years old. When I was five, I was already running my own experiments. I’m afraid you are already sorely behind. I doubt you will ever be able to catch up.”
She continued, “What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t push you to become who you are? You are Jaspierre Kyller. One of a kind. Brilliant. You will be pushed to your limits in the next few years. So much to learn still. So much. But you are beginning. And you have taken no initiative!” Her voice grew sharp, and her grip on her daughter’s hand grew painfully tight.
“Yes, Mother. I can do better. I will do better.” Her voice was determined.
“Good.” The angry grip relaxed a little and then dropped the small hand. Mother pushed the button and two large barn doors swung open. Inside, the lights brightened and she saw cages after cages. Big animals and small. The barn was so much bigger than she could have guessed.
They walked down the line and she saw rabbits, birds, rodents, and every farm animal she could name. Many she couldn’t name. They were each in tiny wire boxes, crammed together. Food conveyor in front of them, poo conveyor behind them. In a small, horrified way, Jaspierre thought it was like the table for the parties. Except poo didn’t conveyor out from behind the guests. Thank God.
“Pick something.”
Jaspierre looked around and saw a nice little rabbit. It had black spots on its nose like a little mustache. “This one.” She pointed and smiled.
Mother opened the cage and pulled out the rabbit. Jaspierre stepped close and reached for it.
“This isn’t a pet, you dumb little thing.” Mother snapped at Jaspierre and shook the rabbit. It let out a terrible scream. “You have made an excellent choice.”
“Pick a leg.” Jaspierre stood still. She didn’t like it one bit.
“Pick now.” Mother’s voice grew stern and angrier. She shook the rabbit harder, making it scream louder. “Pick the fucking leg!”
Jaspierre’s tears welled up in her eyes. “The black one,” she said.
“Haha, the black one. Let’s go.” They walked down the hall farther into the back room. The room looked like a hospital, with a flat stainless steel table in the middle of it, and bright lights up above. Jaspierre stood hesitantly at the door of the room, while Mother set the rabbit on the table and opened up a drawer. She pulled out a syringe and stabbed the rabbit, and soon the rabbit fell asleep on the table. Mother pulled out another drawer and set metal utensils on the stand lined with pink paper.
She turned and saw Jaspierre standing so far away. “What do you think you are going to learn standing way the hell over there? Come on; you can’t even see anything.”
Jaspierre nervously walked closer. “Fuck dammit, I forgot to wash up.” Mother dropped the utensils and walked to the sink. “You too, you dumb little twit.”
Jaspierre washed her hands along with her mother. They both took their time, Mother to be thorough, but Jasp was trying to stall whatever was about to happen next.
“Let me get him,” Mother said and darted out of the room.
Jaspierre waited with the sleeping rabbit. She didn’t pet it. She tried not to look at it. Mother wheeled in a little cage with a blanket over it. There were tubes coming out of the cage and hooked to bags of liquid.
“Well now, let’s get started.” Mother sliced through the skin all the way around the front right leg of the rabbit. Jaspierre gagged and looked away. “Come hold the light. You don’t want her to die, do you? Hand me the clamp. No, not that one. The goddamn clamp.” Jaspierre cringed and handed her mother the tool she was screaming about. She kept closing her eyes so she wouldn’t see as her mother snipped through layer after layer until she found the bone, and after about an hour, the leg was cut off the rabbit.
Jaspierre’s stomach lurched. She was relieved they were done. She asked her first question. “Are we going to stitch him up?”
Mother chuckled. “Are we gonna stitch him up?” she parroted back. Jaspierre, embarrassed and said nothing.
She left the rabbit with its leg socket clamped. She lifted the cover on the other cage and Jaspierre let out a terrified scream. The animal underneath was horrible; it let out a tiny cry.
“Jaspierre you shut your fucking mouth. Can’t you see you scared it?” She motioned Jaspierre to come closer.
Jaspierre’s lower lip start to tremble. Her stomach hurt. “What is it?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that.” Mother was all smiles. This was her masterpiece. “However, the front leg is dying.”
Jaspierre cringed and looked away again. She knew her mother would be so angry. Tears ran, but she ignored them and turned back.
It might have been one dog at a point. Its back had been peeled off and strange curly black fur was now growing on top of it. The head was brown and had smooth fur. The white right ear appeared to be from a lamb, sticking out from the side. A left ear was hanging low, as if from a rabbit, it was brown with a white tip. The tail was long and furry and striped, like a raccoon. Its legs were each from a different animal; the back left had a hoof they were a strange assortment of colors, and were each useless. Two of them looked dead, and the third was obviously rotting. Everything pieced on this animal was in different stages of rot.
The mouth and eyes were the worst part. The jaw had been taken off and replaced with one that was far too big. Lower teeth jutted out awkwardly. A feeding tube was down the animal’s nose. But the eyes. The clear puppy eyes, whimpering for help. It was hard to believe but Jaspierre saw the tail move a little. That dumb damn dog was happy to see them. Mother reached in and petted the squealing animal.
“Was he sick?” Jaspierre asked, staring at it with confusion.
“Was he sick!” Mother parroted a
gain. “No, we don’t experiment on sick animals. That would taint the results.” Mother used a syringe on the IV line, and the animal fell asleep.
“I was hoping he would learn to walk, but, these legs keep dying.” She removed the left front leg. The skin fell off in slimy chunks as she worked removing the leg. This leg took even longer then the last one, and Jaspierre had to fetch her mother a glass of water while she worked. Mother hummed as she worked. Jaspierre was much quicker at handing the right tool at the right time now.
“Oranges and lemons,” her mother sang softly. “Clamp again. Say the bells of St. Clement’s. The stitching needle. You owe me five farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin’s.” She stitched the tiny blood vessels together. “Here comes a candle to light you to bed, hand me that clamp. Here comes a chopper. The needle again. To chop off your head.” She pressed gauze into the leg, wiping it out. “Chip chop chip chop. The last man’s dead!” Mother smiled and finished stitching up the skin. Mother then pressed a few buttons and the little cage under the animal vibrated. “I have heard vibration helps the limbs heal faster. Blood flow increase, I guess.” She turned and washed her hands thoroughly. “Well, I guess we are done for the night.”
Jaspierre was so relieved. She was tired. “Mother, what about that one?” The rabbit without a leg lay on the table still asleep with clamps sticking out of it.
“Oh, throw it away. We are done with it.” Jaspierre stared at the animal breathing on the table. “Wait, stop, before you throw it away, get my clamps and stuff. Then wash up. I’m sure you remember where the house is.” Her mother got up and left.
Jaspierre stood there. Her tiny five-year-old body did not want to touch that rabbit. She sat with the dog animal and did not look at it or pet it. It was still asleep. She was tired. She wanted to go to bed. But she didn’t want to throw the rabbit away. Or pull off the clamps.
Mother stood behind a mirrored window, watching her daughter, whispering to herself. “Pull the clamp off, you little dumb girl. Go on, go do it!” She couldn’t wait.
Jaspierre (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 1) Page 11