by Perry Prete
"You Okay?" Katy seemed concerned about Will. He began to look tired and had quickly developed bags under his eyes since they left the house. "You're not looking well."
Looking down, his head filled with images, swirling around, making little sense, sending him off balance. He put his hand out as if to tell Katy he was all right. She stood, walked around and placed her arm around him, "Let's go." Katy signaled the server for the check.
He slid out of the booth, attempted to stand, his knees buckled and almost fell to the floor. He braced himself on the table's edge and pulled himself upright.
The same girl who refilled their coffee arrived and helped Will to stand, "Is he alright? You want I call you an ambulance or something?"
Will shook his head adamantly refusing anyone be called, "I'm all right." His voice was aggressive and stern, something Katy had never heard before. She pulled more than enough cash from her purse and laid it on the table then helped Paul to the car. He became weaker as they made their way to the car outside in the parking lot. Opening the passenger door, she helped Will inside, fastened his seatbelt then went to the driver's side.
"You doing OK?"
Will turned and looked at her, his eyes now completely bloodshot, welling up with tears.
"Oh my God. What's happening to you? You look horrible," she said worriedly. "I've got to get you to a hospital."
Barely able to whisper, or keep himself sitting upright, "No. Home." Will wasn't able to understand what was going on either. He was fighting this feeling inside that his mind was being pulled apart in every possible direction at once. Sitting back in his seat, he placed both hands on his head, closed his eyes and tried to force his mind to stop spinning.
*****
Nicole lay in bed on top of the covers, her head resting on the pillow, she dreamt about the skinny man with the hairless arms. She saw him at a table eating breakfast, the same beautiful girl that was in the car earlier, was now sitting across from him. They spoke, their lips moved, but their voices were silent. Instead of the clear vision she had when she was in the backseat of his car, now the image was blurry, like television with poor reception. The vision floated around the table, around their heads, below table level then back up again. Nicole focused her attention on the eyes of the skinny man.
The image fluttered, re-focused then moved in close the skinny man then disappeared into the blackness. She saw nothing, no color; there wasn't any sound. She was lost, not knowing where she was, she concentrated and felt a violent jolt. Her whole body shook violently. Fighting back, she righted herself and saw a crack of light, then a little more until she was looking at the face of the beautiful girl from the car. She had a look of concern on her face and was staring directly at Nicole but not at Nicole. It was then she realized, she was inside the skinny man's head, seeing what he was seeing but she wasn't able to hear anything. Nicole turned to look around inside the skinny man's head. Each time she turned to look at a memory or thought, the skinny man attempted to fight back.
Nicole began to pull at threads of memories and saw him following a girl to a parking lot then attack her pushing her head into the roof of the car. Nicole recoiled at the anger inside the skinny man. He tossed her into the back seat then drove away.
She could feel the skinny man fight her; he tried to block the memories, the images that she was making him relive. She was able to fight him off, pull at those thoughts that made him feel uneasy. Nicole opened as many memories as she could, opening a flood of images all at once, she just kept at it, grabbing at whatever she could. In bed, Nicole also saw the same pictures and was sickened by what this man had done.
The girl stood and walked around to the man's side, tossed some cash onto the table and helped him stand and assisted him to the car.
With her mind, Nicole reached out and pulled at a memory and stopped. She saw the skinny man watch his dogs pull violently, snarling and growling at whatever they had their teeth sunk into and pull. They pulled in opposite directions until they each had a chunk of flesh they were fighting over. She woke up, sitting upright in her bed. Nicole was drenched in sweat and exhausted. She reached for her cell phone and collapsed rolling off the bed to the floor.
Will opened his eyes, the nausea and feeling that his head was about to explode were gone in an instant. He was himself again. Confused, he looked at Katy and smiled, "How did we get here?" he laughed.
"Will? What the fuck happened? I was taking you to the hospital. I thought you were having a stroke or an aneurysm or something." She looked across at him. "You, you look amazing now. Like nothing happened."
Will shook the cobwebs from his head, "I was having breakfast with you right?" he questioned her.
Katy nodded in agreement as she slowed her speed, "Yeah, you wanted to go home, but I was taking you to the hospital."
He laughed, "I'm not sure what happened but all of sudden, my head was, I don't know how to describe it, pulled apart, like something on the inside was ripping my brain apart all at once." His hands whirled about his head helping to explain what he was feeling.
"I still think we should get to a hospital." Katy was still worried about him.
Traffic was heavier than it was before they stopped for breakfast and Katy failed to notice a car pulling out of the restaurant parking lot remaining several lengths behind. A second car joined the slow and quiet pursuit. One car would move in closer, break away from the chase and make a left or right turn, keeping in contact with dispatch and rejoin several blocks later.
Neither one of the police cars following Will and Katy notice a fourth vehicle following further behind. Carl overheard Paul telling Ken at the house that the suspect had been spotted and began his pursuit. Carl recognized the two unmarked police cars but was unsure which car they were following. He kept his distance, observing their tactics of deception and as more cars pulled off the road. As cars tuned left or right, other vehicles entered traffic; Carl was finally able to determine which car they were following.
Paul was in the lead car almost a full block behind the car driven by Katy. Carl maneuvered his car closer to the unmarked cars until he was within a few car lengths behind them. He changed lanes attempting to see if there was anyone else in the car they were following. Trying to gain a little distance on the car, he almost pulled up alongside the second unmarked police vehicle. His attention had been on the skinny man's car that he didn't realize what he had done. Letting off the gas, his vehicle slowly retreated to the rest of traffic. He cursed at himself for pulling such a dumb move.
He rubbed his head, his headache was still pounding in his temples, but he wasn't letting this story go. In the back of his mind, he wouldn't mind a little revenge for being tossed in a freezer and being left for dead.
He struggled with the two reasons for being where he was. In the end, he thought, he decided the story won out.
He reached inside his jacket, unlocked the phone and started the camera app. A few action pictures of the chase couldn't hurt, he thought. He held the phone low on the dash and clicked the shutter several times. The phone was tossed in the centre console in case he needed more photos. Taking his attention off the chase to take pictures caused him to fall further back than he had wanted. The traffic light up ahead was amber, the lead car and the two police cars had already made it through the intersection and Carl was too far behind to make it through without running a red. He slammed on the brakes, the tires of his old car bit the asphalt coming to a stop just over the thick white line.
"Fuck," he punched the centre of the steering wheel, the horn blew startling the driver to his left.
Carl looked at the road ahead and watched as the three cars increased their distance from him. Looking left then right, he decided on a calculated gamble. The road they were on went directly to the highway, to the left was an industrial zone, right took them back to Will's house. He didn't bother to signal, cranked the wheel hard and floored the accelerator. He navigated his way through the city streets, weaving b
etween cars, driving faster than he should. He was taking a huge risk turning away from the group, but they had pulled so far ahead at the light, they could be anywhere. At least this way, moving was better than remaining motionless at the light. Going through the city streets in his head, he imagined where the skinny man would go. As far as Carl knew, the skinny man was unaware he had escaped or that the police were at the house.
Without warning, Carl slammed on the brakes and stopped in the middle of the street. Behind him, cars swerved around him to avoid crashing into the rear of this car. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he screamed at himself. He looked behind, made sure there were no cars behind him and floored the accelerator.
*****
In the lead car, Paul and Ken remained silent as they kept their distance. Paul drove as Ken entered the vehicles license plate into the vehicle laptop. Almost immediately, the computer brought up the owner of the car, Katherine Tilley. They now suspected who the female driver was. As they followed the car, their erratic maneuvers indicated that they were aware they were being followed or were lost. Several times, the car took a turn, pulled over, after a few moments signaled and pulled into traffic again. Each time, the lead surveillance car would pass, slow as the rear car would assume the chase. Paul was certain they had been discovered.
*****
Will rubbed his temples trying to stem the pressure inside his head. He kept his eyes closed opening them momentarily to get his barring's, give directions, then close his eyes again.
"I should take you to the hospital. You're being stubborn. Let me help," Katy begged.
Will could barely open his eyes, the pressure increasing with each passing second. He felt his stomach content rise in his throat, and he fought hard to keep from vomiting in the car. "Quiet, please. My dad will help."
*****
Carl ran upstairs to Nora's office and burst through the office door. She was on the phone, listening to whoever was on the other end, gave Carl a look that could kill and went back to the conversation. He walked over to her desk, placed his finger on the disconnect button and ended the call.
"What the fuck?" Nora stood and screamed. "Do you know who that was?"
"Couldn't give a shit." He sat on the corner of her desk, "I need information. I need it now. This isn't a request."
"You can't come in and start demanding things." Nora stood and came nose to nose with her reporter. "I've been looking for an excuse to fire y..."
Carl spoke over her, "Sam, the cleaning guy. HR won't give me his last name or address. I need it. I need it now."
"Sam, what guy Sam?" Nora was confused; she honestly didn't know the name of the night cleaner.
"The guy who used to be you, like twenty years ago. He used to run this place."
"You mean Smitty Frischmann. His name is Sam, but they called him Smitty back then, way before my time. I didn't know he worked here cleaning. I've never taken the opportunity to notice." Nora retook her seat, "Why do you need his address?"
Carl was excited and started to pace around Nora's office. He placed his hand over his mouth, thought for a moment, "I'm spit balling here. This is gonna go way off track, like way out in left field." His hand went up in the air and spun to the left. "I was almost killed this morning before..."
"What! Killed?" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Several of the staff stood and looked at them through the glass.
He wasn't phased by Nora's outburst and continued, "before I could talk to the skinny man who owns the house. So, when I helped suture up the guy in the ER..."
"You sutured some guy?"
"You keep interrupting me, and this is going to take a long time."
Nora sat back and decided to let Carl finish. He babbled, Nora had a difficult time understanding every word, "Turns out this guy was the one responsible for the all the girls going missing. I was told last night where to look. I was clubbed when I got to the house then put in a freezer with a dead body made up of several different girls' body parts. I managed to escape the freezer and was rescued by the police. When they went through the house, they found a stock of pristine old newspapers going back twenty some odd years. Sam said he retired about two decades ago. It's a long shot but something Sam told me about his house, it sounded just like the house I was at."
There was silence in the room as the two stared at each other. She reached for the receiver, dialed an extension, spoke to the person on the other end, scribbled some notes then hung up. She left the sheet of paper on her desk, stood and walked out of the office. Carl scooped up the sheet, stuffed it in his pocket and walked out of the building.
*****
Katy pulled into the driveway of a modest home. She noticed the grounds were immaculate; the grass cut short, the shrubs manicured, even the flowers were of the same height along the front of the house. She killed the engine, waiting for the owner of the house to come out and greet them. Instead, there was silence save for the slight moans coming from Will in the passenger seat. She ran around to the passenger door, Will almost fell out and vomited onto the driveway.
Katy knelt, held Will as he wretched and vomited again. He reached for the door handle, missed falling to the asphalt almost landing in the vomit. He rolled onto his back, still holding his head, moaning. Katy failed to notice the elderly man who exited the house standing behind her. "Quick. Get him inside the house," he barked.
They helped Will to stand, leading him to the side door. They led him to the living room and laid him gently on the couch. He continued to hold his end and roll side to side.
"How did you find me?" the old man whispered.
"Will gave me directions." Katy removed her jacket and placed it under Will's head. She stroked his damp hair from his forehead. "He's burning up. Can you get me some Tylenol? It'll help with the fever."
The old man returned with a glass of water and two pills, handing them to her. Katy helped Will swallow the pills then laid him back down.
"Thank you... I don't know your name."
"Sam. He's going by Will now."
Katy spun around to look at him, "Now?" she questioned him. "What do you mean by that?"
Sam took the chair facing Katy, "He's always changing his name, ever since he was a kid. His birth name is Ariel Frischmann. He always hated his Jewish heritage. That's my fault; I was never there for him. You know, to help him find himself."
Katy sat on the edge of the couch holding Will's hand, "His name is Will, as long as he wants me to call him Will, we're going to call him Will."
Sam shook his head in agreement, "Will it is." He watched how she cared for his son, "You care for him?"
"I do. He's special." She looked at Will's face, tiny beads of perspiration rolled down his forehead to her jacket. "He's sick. Really sick."
"How well do you know him?" Sam adjusted himself in the chair bracing himself for what he was about to tell her.
"I know him well enough to know I care." Katy's eyes never left Will. "He's not well."
"That's obvious."
Sam shifted again, "I need to tell you something about him. You won't like it."
Katy turned and faced Sam, "Did you give him up for adoption?" "No, just the opposite. He never told you about his mother then."
Katy shook her head, "She was beautiful. In every way possible, the most beautiful woman in the world. I loved her more than you could ever love someone. His mother was the love of my life, but I was married to someone that I couldn't ever leave. I was a failure as a man, weak. Instead, I spend as much time with Will's mother as I could, got her pregnant. I bought her this house," he looked around, "and gave the two of them everything they needed except for a father and husband. The older he got, the more he hated me. When his mother died, I gave him my house, money, every opportunity to be whatever his wanted."
"Instead, he disappointed you."
Sam lowered his head, "I disappointed myself. I was a failure. He grew angry over the years, wanted his mother back, wanted a life that I denied him. He wanted a
family." Sam's voice began to crack. "There was so much hatred towards me for what I had done. Maybe adoption would've been better. He would've had a family, a mother and a father."
"You were what, a weak father if that? Of course, there was resentment. Right now, I'm not worried about what you did wrong to Will; I want to find out why he's sick. Has he ever been sick like this before?"
"No, not that I know of." Sam looked at his son with worry.
"Not that you know of? What do you know about your son?" Katy screamed at Sam.
Sam stood, paced around the room, "I know things about him that no one knows about. I'm sure I know more about him than you do. I don't recall him ever mentioning you before. You've been around for what, a few weeks. Believe me, when I tell you, you don't want to know what I know."
Infuriated, Katy spun around, fire in her eyes, stepped in close to Sam, "You mean his little playroom in the basement. Yeah, I know about that."
Stunned, Sam fell back into his chair. He stared at her wide-eyed, unable to breathe or comprehend what he just heard. "How?"
"Late last night when he was sleeping, I couldn't, so I wandered around the house, found his hobby. I was shocked at first but not surprised. Actually, I was fascinated by what he had collected."
Will moaned on the sofa, he appeared to be sleeping; his arms had fallen loosely to the sides.
Sam looked at his son, then back at Katy, "Fascinated? Not repulsed?" She smiled, "You sound surprised that I wouldn't be shocked. I've always been fascinated with death. I've never shied away from it, but rather I've embraced it. I've always wondered what it would be like to kill someone, now maybe, I'll get the chance."
"Get the chance? To take someone's life? Seriously you need to reevaluate your life choices. You can't be like my son. What he's doing is wrong."