Stumptown

by A M Huff

  The realization hit him instantly. Jack, Barry and the other guys from the clubs were dead. He pictured their lifeless bodies dumped into oil cans and buried like his angel. His legs became weak and fear tightened its grip on his chest with the understanding that he was next. He twisted and grunted. Tears filled his eyes and he began to cry.

  Andy appeared in front of him. His expression was calm. His eyes seemed to express concern.

  “There, there, now,” he soothed and reached up to gently wipe the tears from Justus’ cheeks. “It’s okay. I took care of everything. No one needs to know.” His tone was meant to allay Justus’ fears, but it only frightened him more.

  Andy reached behind Justus’ head and took away the gag. Justus’ gasps and sobs echoed around them.

  “Shush, there, there now,” Andy repeated while he stroked and caressed the sides of Justus’ face.

  “Please, don’t kill me,” Justus sobbed.

  Andy froze, his hands still holding Justus’ head. He looked angry. “Why would you say that?”

  “You killed them, didn’t you? Jack, Barry and the others.”

  “They didn’t want to play nice,” Andy hissed and glanced over Justus’ shoulder and then back at Justus. “But you’ll play nice, won’t you?”

  Justus nodded.

  “That’s a good boy.” Andy gently slapped Justus’ cheek. “I have one more thing to do. Then we can play some more.”

  Andy smiled. He turned away and righted one of the wheelbarrows. Grabbing a bag of cement mix, he dropped it in the wheelbarrow and tore it open. After emptying the contents, he turned to Justus. “I’ll be right back. I need a little water.” He grabbed a five-gallon bucket and headed up the stairs at a leisurely pace.

  Justus heard whistling and the sound of running water. He looked around him and noticed the crowbar lying on the ground, barely inside the opening his angel had made in the wall. He wished he could get free. He would use that on Andy if he had to. Caught up in his plotting, he did not realize the water had stopped upstairs until he heard Andy’s footsteps on the stairs.

  “That didn’t take long did it?” Andy said. He poured the water into the wheelbarrow and began mixing it with a garden rake. The sound of the rocks and sand scraping the sides of the wheelbarrow bothered Justus’ ears and brought back memories of when his eighth-grade teacher, Miss Connors, would scrape her long fingernails against the chalkboard every time she used the eraser. It sent tiny bolts of electricity throughout his limbs.

  Andy finished mixing the concrete and stepped between the handrails. He set the rake aside and picked up the wheelbarrow, wheeling it behind Justus to the grave. There was a swoosh sound as the concrete was emptied onto the ground followed by the sound of the rake smoothing it out. After three more bags of concrete, Andy finally stepped back in front of Justus. Sweat drenched his hair, face, and shirt. The stench made Justus want to gag.

  “There, that should do it,” Andy said. “You doing okay?” he asked.

  Justus nodded and tried not to look disagreeable.

  “Good boy. I need to clean up the wheelbarrow and then we can get back to business. All this heavy working has made me quite hot.” He winked and pulled on a belt loop on Justus’ jeans.

  After retrieving another bucket of water from upstairs and cleaning the rake and wheelbarrow, the phone rang. Andy rushed up the stairs to answer it. Justus took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief.

  “Yes, I know what time it is.” Andy’s voice echoed down to the dungeon. “I know I promised to be home for dinner. Yes, I know how important this is for you. Fine, I’ll take a quick shower—I told you I’ve been working on the basement in my dad’s house—It was your choice to have this dinner party tonight.”

  Justus listened to Andy argue with someone that Justus guessed was his wife.

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Andy said and then was quiet. When he finally came back down the stairs he had a disappointed look in his eyes.

  “I’ve got to go. You’ll be okay here tonight. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, I promise.”

  “I’m cold,” Justus said, trying to sound passive.

  Andy looked at him. “Oh, you poor little boy, let me see what I can find.” He rushed up the stairs. Justus could hear him in the room overhead. A few seconds later he returned with what looked like a blanket. “Here, this should work.” He tossed one end of the blanket over Justus’ head and moved it around until he found the hole in the center. “My dad bought this old poncho in Mexico on one of his trips,” Andy explained.

  The weight of the heavy wool poncho pulled on his shoulders and wrists making them burn with pain. Justus cringed while the wool scratched his bare chest and back. He was not sure which was worse, the cold or being itchy and not being able to do anything about it.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Andy said and turned back around. He clumsily refastened the gag and kissed Justus’ cheek. “Be a good boy,” he said and shut the door behind him as he left, throwing the basement into darkness.

  Justus woke shivering. He had no idea how long he had been asleep or even how long after Andy had left before sleep had overtaken him. What he did know was that he was cold, itchy, and had to pee.

  Oh God, not now.

  He tried thinking about something else but since he was not able to see or hear anything, his mind kept returning to his pressing need. He bit down on the gag and tried humming the first song that popped into his head but immediately stopped.

  It’s Raining Men? Really?

  He tried again but had similar luck with ABBA’s Waterloo.

  Damn it!

  He decided to think of something else and stay away from music. The pressure on his bladder was becoming unbearable.

  He thought about Scotty and Dale and wondered if they even knew he was missing. When they had last discussed the person behind the missing men, they had decided the culprit was Dean.

  How could I have been so wrong?

  Tears filled his eyes. Maybe he had been wrong about Dean. Maybe he was not such a terrible man after all. A little lovestruck maybe, but not a lunatic like Andy.

  Images of Harrison flashed in his mind. Justus had gotten a crush on him the first day they had met. Harrison looked so handsome in his business suit. With his dark hair touched with gray and his broad shoulders, he looked like a regular Clark Kent. Several times Justus had to stop himself from actually telling Harrison how he felt, that he was secretly in love with him—

  But now he’ll never know.

  More tears. The outer corners of his eyes stung and burned. He wiped his face on his upstretched arms.

  Douglas came to his mind. Tall, strong, handsome Douglas. Harrison insisted repeatedly that they were only friends and that was fine, but every time Justus wanted to spend some alone time with Harrison, Douglas showed up. Justus would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous.

  Justus shivered when a gust of cold air blew through the opening in the wall, interrupting his thoughts. The pressure was beginning to overpower his ability to will it away. Before he knew what was happening or could stop it, warmth spread across his groin and ran down his leg. The liquid stung his ankles.

  “No,” he groaned and threw his head back. Even though he was alone, he felt embarrassed. This was not the way he wanted to be found.

  When it stopped running, the warmth quickly faded, leaving him cold and shivering. His wet jeans no longer shielded his legs from the night air. Standing on tiptoes in a puddle of mud, he tried moving to find a dry piece of ground but with each movement, his wrists burned and his shoulders ached. He realized he could no longer feel his fingers. He pushed his head back and looked up, but in the darkness, he could not see his hands.

  Somewhere in the distance outside, a dog barked. Justus’ head lunged forward. He looked toward the hole in the wall and held his breath. A twig snapped followed by something heavy hitting the ground on the other side of the flimsy wall. Justus’ heart began to beat faster. H
e thought about the recent news stories of wolves and cougars being sighted around the West Hills. He wondered if they could smell his urine.

  He heard another sound, another twig snap, and then a grunt. Whatever was out there was moving toward the hole. Justus bit down on the gag. A faint whimper escaped his throat.

  Suddenly a light beam flashed through the hole in the wall. Justus’ fears reached a new level. Tears burned his eyes and stung the corners. The memory of the white-haired woman standing in front of him, eyes frozen in a blind gaze, blood spreading out across her blouse, flashed through his mind.

  “Over here!” a man’s voice called out.

  There were the sounds of twigs snapping and footsteps running toward the opening in the wall. A hand holding a flashlight reached through the wall. The beam moved erratically around the basement until it shone directly in Justus’ face.

  “Oh my god!” the man gasped.

  Justus recognized the voice. It was Douglas.

  “Justus?” Harrison was there.

  The light bounced around and he heard the sounds of people climbing through the hole, scraping against the rough edges of the plywood.

  “Justus!” Scotty’s voice. Scotty was there too.

  Someone was behind him, untying the gag. Justus gasped and closed his dry mouth, trying to build up saliva so he could speak.

  Harrison stepped in front of him. The beam of his flashlight aimed up at the ceiling at Justus’ restraints. He started to reach for them when they all heard a door shut above them and footsteps moving across the ceiling toward them.

  “Stay quiet,” Harrison said. He grabbed Scotty and pulled him over to the space beneath the wooden staircase where Douglas had ventured. They shut their flashlights off right as the door above them opened.

  “I’m back,” Andy said and started down the stairs with a flashlight in his hand. He shone the beam at Justus’ face and stopped. “How did you—” He moved the beam around the room. “Who have you got down here, huh?” he asked. “You had better come out, I’ve got a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  Justus looked at the darkness beneath the stairs and silently prayed for them to stay put and stay quiet.

  “I’m not going to say it again,” Andy said while he continued to move slowly down the stairs.

  “There’s no one here,” Justus spoke in a voice he did not recognize as his own. His throat was still dry and the sound was raspy.

  Andy pointed the beam directly at Justus’ eyes. Justus turned his head.

  “You wouldn’t lie to me now would you boy? After all, we haven’t had our fun yet.”

  “No. No, I’m not.”

  Andy moved closer and closer, still searching the shadows and dark corners of the room.

  Justus watched as the flashlight’s beam dropped to the ground at his feet.

  “What?” Andy questioned and then looked up.

  In the dim light Justus could see Andy’s jaw tighten and his eyes blaze with anger. “Liar!” he shouted and struck Justus across the side of his head. Lightning flashed behind his eyelids and his head jerked right so hard he heard his neck crack.

  Andy spun around the beam of his flashlight barely missing the three beneath the stairs. “Come out or I’ll kill him right now!”

  “No!” Scotty screamed, giving them away. He rushed at Andy but tripped over something on the ground. He fell and hit the dirt hard. Justus fought to keep from giving into his pain and passing out.

  “What are you doing in my house?” Andy demanded.

  “We’ve come for our friend,” Harrison spoke up.

  “Well, I’m not done with him yet,” Andy growled.

  “Yes, you are, Dominic,” Harrison said.

  Andy shook his head. There was a hint of recognition in his eyes. “How do you know my name?”

  “I’m Harrison Andrews.”

  “Harrison—” Andy stopped.

  “Put whatever is in your hand down,” Harrison ordered while he moved closer and closer.

  Andy’s flashlight beam was aimed directly at Harrison. Justus could see what he was doing. Harrison was trying to cast as big of a shadow behind him as he could, hiding Douglas’ movements from Andy.

  “I don’t think so,” Andy replied in a defiant tone. He took a step away from Justus.

  In the dim light, Justus saw the small metal pipe in Andy’s hand.

  “It’s not a gun,” Justus called out.

  Andy turned sharply and swung the metal pipe he gripped in his hand, striking Justus in the ribs. Harrison lunged at Andy, grabbing him around the waist and tackling him to the ground. They landed behind Justus, out of his view. The flashlight slipped from Andy’s hand and spun around on the ground, causing a strobing effect that reminded Justus of the lights at Stumptown.

  Douglas rushed the pair and Justus listened to the sound of fists striking flesh and what sounded like large barrels banging into one another. There was the sound of something solid hitting the outer wall and then Andy’s pained groan.

  Harrison came into view, stumbling to the ground. He scrambled to his feet.

  “Harry, no,” he begged him to stop.

  Harrison ignored him and disappeared behind him again.

  Justus heard the crack of a piece of wood and a heavy thud.

  “Harry?” he called and twisted trying to see behind him.

  Andy rushed past Justus, heading for the stairs with Douglas running right on his heels. He grabbed Andy by his shirt and sent him crashing through the banister to the ground below. Somehow Andy managed to get back to his feet. He crouched down, fists raised ready to fight. Douglas did the same.

  Justus watched, heart pounding wildly. Douglas threw a punch. Andy ducked out of the way just in time and countered with one of his own. It connected with Douglas’ jaw but Douglas seemed unfazed. Douglas landed his next punch square in the center of Andy’s face, sending his head rocking violently back. Andy recovered and the fight continued.

  Justus glanced down at the ground where Scotty lay. He was just starting to stir.

  “Get up, Scotty,” Justus urged while the fight drew nearer. “Get up!”

  Scotty climbed to his knees, still looking a bit disoriented. He glanced over his shoulder at Douglas and Andy. That seemed to bring him to. He stumbled to his feet and backed away, giving Douglas as much room as he needed.

  “Where’s Harry?” Justus asked Scotty.

  Scotty pulled out his flashlight and aimed the beam at Justus’s face, blinding him.

  “Behind me!” he shouted.

  Scotty moved the beam and then rushed to behind Justus, out of his view.

  Justus blinked several times trying to see around the dark dot in the center of his vision that had been left there by the bright beam of Scotty’s flashlight.

  Douglas threw two quick punches that hit Andy in the gut and then the chin. Andy stumbled backward, falling on the bags of concrete mix.

  Justus saw the rake handle at the same time Andy did. Andy’s hand closed around it and he brought the metal comb end up while he pushed off the bags.

  Douglas backed away. He looked around him apparently searching for a weapon equal to the threatening tines of the rake.

  “Not so brave now, are you, big boy,” Andy taunted and moved closer.

  Douglas’ chest swelled and his fists clenched tighter. Without any warning he lunged at Andy like a football player going after the ball. His arms grabbed around Andy’s waist leaving him no time or room to swing the rake. They crashed to the ground by the hole in the wall. Justus heard a gasp and watched Andy’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open. A dark fluid spilled out over his chin.

  “Doug!” Justus shouted.

  Douglas slowly pushed himself up onto his knees. When he did, Justus could see the bloody, sharp end of the crowbar protruding from the left side of Andy’s chest. Douglas stood up and turned to face Justus. Justus recognized the look in Douglas’ eyes. He saw the growing redness spreading down Douglas’ shirt.


  “No!” Justus screamed.

  “Doug!” Harrison shouted and rushed into view right when Douglas collapsed to his knees.

  The sound of heavy footsteps overhead caused Justus to look up.

  “Help!” Justus screamed.

  “Down here! Call an ambulance!” Harrison shouted and cradled an unconscious Douglas in his arms.

  Justus watched four men in police uniforms come running down the stairs. Then everything went dark.

  Chapter Ninteen

  Justus did not know which he noticed first: the beeping sound or the bright light shining in his face. What he did know was he hurt all over but felt warm. He tried to move his arms, but they would not budge. The beeping sound grew more rapid. Justus twisted and turned while panic overtook him. He let out a scream like a wounded animal.

  A figure moved across the room toward him.

  Andy’s face looked angry.

  “No! No! Stay away from me!” Justus screamed but Andy moved closer. “Help! Help! Harrison! He’s gonna kill me!”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” the woman repeated in a calm voice. She touched his arm.

  Justus looked at her hand and then back at her eyes. Andy’s face was gone, replaced by his sister’s gentle features.

  “Tina?” he said.

  “Yes, I’m here,” she answered with a nod.

  Justus turned his head. Sunlight poured through a large window to his left, filling the room with light. He looked down at his feet and realized he was lying in a bed. He saw his arms, from his elbows to his wrists, wrapped in white gauze bandages.

  “Where am I?” he asked.

  “You’re in the hospital,” Tina said. She smiled at him, but Justus could see the tears in his sister’s eyes while she stood beside the bed.

  “Try to relax. Take deep breaths,” a nurse on the other side of the bed instructed.