Stavros pointed at Seven and Kat, who were closest to the side door. “Go check it out. But be careful.”
“Whatever,” Kat replied, pulling Seven into the room by his shirt. She shut the door behind them.
“Okay.” Stavros turned back to the rest of the group. “We have to assume the gun was taken by the killer. So now our priority is to get to Keaton’s grandmother and make sure she’s kept safe from this maniac.”
“Really?” Keaton asked. “I mean, I know she’s my granny and all, but—”
“We’re getting your grandma, Keaton. No discussion.”
Josh had no idea who this Stavros guy was, and the fact that he had dealings with Keaton was maybe a mark against him, but there was something dignified about him that had made Josh want to like him from the second he first saw him. And that last statement had solidified it for him.
Wait. What was that? Josh wasn’t sure, but he could swear he heard a faint hissing noise. Was it the snake? Did rattlesnakes hiss?
A sweet odor invaded his nostrils and he suddenly had to fight the urge to giggle.
“Hey guys,” Josh called out to the others. “Do you smell that?”
Keaton took a deep sniff and yelped. “That’s laughing gas. Must’ve come from the veneers mickey. We’ve got to get out. Go, go, go!”
For some reason, that struck Josh as really, really funny.
* * *
Seven had never been so happy in his life. Sure, he put on a good front for his friends…okay, friend—he was pretty sure Allie didn’t count—but girls typically didn’t give him the time of day, no matter what he did to get their attention.
Right now, his main concern was that the high from the X was going to drop them both and Kat would realize that she was with someone completely lame. Seven could talk a pretty good line, but at the end of the day, he knew how much of a poser he really was.
He figured he had at least another hour or two before that happened. And right now, he was in a private room, with a locked door, with the hottest girl that had ever given him a second glance. And she had been the one to bring him in here with her. No prompting on his part, monetarily or otherwise.
Sweet.
And the room was awesome. There were mirrors everywhere. On the walls, the ceiling…there was even part of the floor that had a mirror there. They could see themselves from every angle.
Oh, and there was a bed.
Yeah, this was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ever.
As Kat dragged him over to the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, Seven heard what sounded like a soft hissing. It couldn’t keep his attention for very long, though, as Kat had pulled her own shirt off, revealing her lacy purple bra.
Man. There had been a time that Seven had been pretty sure that he would never, ever get to see one of those things up close and in person. And yet, here he was, staring at the best-looking bra he could imagine. And what they were holding in was pretty awesome, too.
All of a sudden, he had the urge to laugh. There was a sweetness in his nose and on his tongue that struck him as powerfully funny. Well, the whole situation was funny, wasn’t it?
And he wasn’t the only one. Kat was chuckling, also.
“What’s so funny?” Seven laughed.
“I don’t know,” Kat giggled back. She didn’t seem like one to giggle much, but the sound of her laughter was like music. She was gorgeous.
In the back of his mind there was a little voice that told him that they should probably get out of here. That they were inhaling some kind of gas that would probably end up killing them. The voice was kind of annoying in its insistence.
But somehow, looking at the beautiful girl in front of him, Seven just couldn’t bring himself to care all that much.
* * *
Keaton couldn’t believe that they were on their way to rescue his grandmother. He was pretty sure there were better things they could be doing with their time. Like twiddling their thumbs or something.
But no, Stavros had to get all chivalrous on him. That was the problem with being so close to the masculine ideal. You got all righteous about protecting the elderly and stuff. If Stavros knew what a pain in the ass his granny was, he wouldn’t be rushing in to save her—that much, Keaton knew for a fact.
Then, from behind them, a shot rang out. Keaton spun on his heel in time to see Lacresha clutch at her side, spin toward the wall, and sink to the floor, blood welling up between her fingers. Behind her, the janitor pointed his gun right at Stavros’s face.
Without a pause, Keaton jumped in front of his idol, ready to take a bullet for him. Wait. What? What the hell was he doing? But it was too late. The killer had pulled the trigger, and there was Keaton, right in front of the target.
The hammer of the gun fell on an empty chamber.
Keaton had just long enough to see the shocked look on Stavros’s face before Keaton sank down to the ground, his knees buckling under him. He didn’t pass out, although everything was spinning, and noises had a certain tinny quality to them.
The janitor, realizing he was out of bullets, paused for a second, clutched at his ear, and then threw the gun at Josh, hitting the kid in the shoulder. Josh grabbed at the injury, but then lowered that same shoulder and rammed it into the killer’s sternum, pushing him back.
Out of a loophole at his waist, the janitor pulled out a wicked looking knife, and slammed its handle down onto the top of Josh’s head. The young kid reeled off to the side, running straight into the wall and slumping to the ground.
Now there were only two of their group left standing. Allie and Stavros. The drug kingpin grabbed the girl and pulled her behind himself, shielding her with his body. Then, from out of his pants pocket, he pulled one of the blender blades, flinging it at their assailant’s face.
The killer moved to the side, but not quite quickly enough, as the blade carved a gash in his face. His hand flew up to the wound and he glared at Stavros, growling.
“That…hurt.”
“It was supposed to.”
Keaton couldn’t help himself. He had to know.
“Dude. Why are you killing everybody?”
That brought the killer up short. “What?”
Keaton continued. “It doesn’t make sense. What’s your endgame here?”
“Endgame? The only endgame I have is to get it to stop!” Once more, the janitor clawed at his ear.
“Wait. Hold on a sec.” Keaton could not believe his ears. “You’re not getting anything out of this? No money, no back-end deal? You’re just killing people?”
“Yeah.” The man looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. “Pretty much.”
“That…you…I…” Keaton sputtered. He had never been angrier in his life.
The janitor grabbed at his ear, looking like he was trying to pull it off. “I just want the voice to stop.”
“You’re just crazy?! That’s it?! That’s why my Hive is a disaster area?!” Keaton pushed himself up to standing, all frailty forgotten. He reached behind him to grab whatever weapon Stavros had in his hand away from him and then rushed at the idiot, wielding his…wine opener?
Whatever. It had a sharp pointy end.
Something in Keaton’s face must have frightened the man, as he held up his hands to protect his face. But it wasn’t the guy’s face he was after. Keaton went right for the jugular and shoved the corkscrew in as far as it would go.
“Potential customer or not, you’re going down, sucker!” Keaton screamed into the man’s face.
The janitor choked on his own blood, some of which had to be pouring down his throat, and the rest of which sprayed out of his neck. He staggered around for a few moments, then fell to his knees before slumping back to the floor, dead.
Wait. That didn’t feel right, somehow.
“Did that seem way too easy to anyone else?” Keaton asked, his blood still surging and singing through his body. Man, if he could bottle this adrenaline rush, he’d be rich.
Stavros’s voice answered back. “Yes. It was.” He moved over to the still form of the killer and bent down to examine him. “He’s slaughtered pretty much everyone. He laid some of the most devious traps I’ve ever seen or heard of. He should’ve been harder to kill than that.”
“Wait. What’s that sound?” A groggy-looking Josh was pushing himself up to kneeling not far from where the killer had gone down. “Do you hear that?”
“Yes,” Stavros replied. “Yes, I do.” He leaned in even closer to the killer. Actually, he leaned in closer to the killer’s ear.
“He wasn’t lying,” Stavros stated. “And he wasn’t crazy. He really was hearing voices. Which means…”
“It means that there’s still a killer here somewhere.” Allie stared down at the form of the janitor in front of her. “One that’s a lot smarter than this guy.”
Well, that put a damper on Keaton’s remaining plans for the evening.
* * *
Assessing the damage from the latest attack, Stavros found that they were better off than he would’ve thought. Lacresha was still alive, her gunshot wound not too much more than a graze along the side of her torso. It was still bleeding some, but it wouldn’t incapacitate her.
“Honey, it’ll take more than a little scratch to put this bitch down.” The dominatrix slapped her crop against Stavros’s chest and slid it down to his waist, her eyes filled with mischief. Stavros gave her a wink, then turned to the rest of the group.
Josh was fine, with no more than a bump on his head to show for his bravery in rushing the killer. Stavros was pretty sure he’d never seen a kid his age step up like that.
Keaton was fine, if a little shaken from his first deliberate killing of a possible client. He kept pacing back and forth, muttering to himself about a possible serial killer franchise.
Seven and Kat were missing, most likely left back at the mail-order bride micro. Whether or not that was the case, they were probably dead. And while Stavros didn’t like the fact that he thought it, he realized they wouldn’t have been much more than dead weight if they’d made it this far.
Brutal? Yes. But they still had a murderer out there they had to take care of.
“That’s it. We’re getting your grandmother. Now. And then we do everything we can think of to get out of here. Maybe we can go back to the explosives micro and find something there. Blast our way out.” Stavros was done with this little expedition. It was time to get the hell out of here.
“Yeah, that might work,” Keaton answered. “But do we really have to go for Granny right this second? That mickey’s just around the next corner there. We could go try to blow a hole in the wall, and then go get her.”
“No. Now.” Stavros turned Keaton around and pushed him in the direction of his grandmother’s room. Keaton sulked for a second, but then walked ahead of them, pulling out the key on the way.
“Granny!” Keaton called out as he opened the door. “We’re here to get you out.”
The wizened old woman groaned, moving her head slowly from side to side. It appeared she didn’t want to leave.
“Mrs. James,” Stavros coaxed. “We need to get you somewhere safe. There’s a madman on the loose, and I’m pretty sure he’ll kill you if we don’t get you out of here.”
A gleam of understanding, or something similar, sparked in her eye, and she groaned again, this time looking like she was trying to sit up.
“Here, honey, let me help you.” Lacresha bent over the old woman, reaching under her frail arms to lift her out of bed.
There was a quick flash of something metallic, and the dominatrix was staggering back from the bed, a knife jutting out from between her shoulder blades. Before the sight fully registered in Stavros’s brain, another blade slashed right in front of his face, almost taking out his eyes. He jumped back, only to realize that the blade had been wielded by…Keaton’s grandmother?
“Oh, she’s good,” Lacresha breathed, as she slumped down to the floor, blood coursing out from the top of her corset, where the knife still protruded up from her upper back.
The old woman danced back around the bed, slashing at Josh and Allie, who darted to the other side of the room, putting an old couch between themselves and the crazed woman.
“What? How?” Stavros stammered, unbelieving.
“Thought I was an old helpless woman, did you?” the woman cackled, her rotten teeth showing in a death grin. “Well, this helpless old woman has cleansed this house of all the scum inside it with only the help of one idiot janitor.”
“You’re the voice?” Keaton asked, sounding shell-shocked.
“What did you think, sonny? You made a mockery of this house’s memory. This house your grandfather built with his own hands. You brought filth and depravity inside.”
“What are you talking about, Granny? I was making money.”
“Filthy lucre! Drugs, whores…Russians!” she screamed back. “Now watch your grandmother while she finishes taking out the trash.” The old woman began advancing on Stavros once more, her blade weaving back and forth, lashing out like the teeth of a viper in the act of striking.
Stavros had no idea how to handle this. He wasn’t about to fight an elderly woman. “Mrs. James. Stop. I’m not who you think I am.” He winced as her blade found one of his forearms, the gash immediately dripping blood to the floor.
“You’re a drug dealer. What else do I need to know?” She lashed out again, catching him on his hand this time.
“No, no, I’m not!” Stavros had almost run out of room. He had maybe one more step before he came up against the wall. “I’m an undercover cop!”
Stavros heard a hiss of indrawn breath from Keaton, but he couldn’t think about that now. The blade had struck him two more times in the last two seconds. Once on the shoulder, the other time across the chest. His body was crisscrossed with bleeding wounds. This old crone was strong.
“Sure you are. That’s just what the guy in 1B said.” She cackled as she sliced open a wide gash in Stavros’s side. “But he went down just like you will.”
“Mrs. James. For the last time, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But I do want to hurt you!”
Another cut, this one on his forehead, started bleeding into Stavros’s eyes, blinding him for a moment. Keaton came up on his grandmother’s side, trying to get underneath her whipping knife, but she backhanded him across the face, sending him crashing into the wall, dazed.
“Don’t bother Granny, dear. I’m busy,” the ancient hag crowed.
From behind Keaton’s grandmother, Allie moved up in her blind spot, using her distraction to bring a vase down on the top of the old woman’s head. The woman spun around and punched Allie straight in the face, snapping her head back and sending her stumbling off to the side.
At that, Josh came in, screaming at the top of his lungs. He sailed across the room, laid out in perfect form for a side tackle. Granny brought her arm down straight, cutting Josh out of the air and landing him in a heap beside her. She couldn’t stop his momentum, however, and it pushed her off to the side.
Just enough time for Stavros to pull out his own blade. They squared off against one another, circling, dancing, knives flashing. Granny had a cut from the vase which had covered the right side of her face in blood. Stavros had plenty of gushing wounds himself.
“Why? Why would you do all this?” Stavros pleaded with the woman, trying to understand.
“You wouldn’t understand, scum.” The woman put all of her vitriol into that word, practically spitting it at Stavros. “My husband built this house. For me! And he defiled it!” She pointed her knife at Keaton, who was still down for the count.
“But…he’s family,” Stavros countered.
“He’s filth. Just like you!” With that, she slashed her blade towards Stavros’s face once more, but as she lunged, her foot slipped in a puddle of blood from Stavros’s wounds. It left an opening.
Stavros took it.
“You know,” he s
aid, as he slid his blade up and under the old woman’s ribcage. “For the first time, I’m glad I’m an orphan.”
EPILOGUE
For the first time in years, police lights flashed in the desert air surrounding the Hive. Once Stavros had made sure that Keaton and the two kids were okay, he’d found an old rotary phone that somehow still worked and managed to call the whole thing in to the police precinct.
He also found the “disabled” nurse intercom that the old woman had adapted to put her voice into the janitor’s head. She’d taken super glue and essentially welded her hearing aid into the man’s ear canal while he slept, turning him into her tool. He must’ve spent the last three or four months building and then setting all of the traps they had found, guided by her malicious voice in his brain.
The kids were shaken up, but were holding each other tight after having given each other the biggest, sloppiest kiss Stavros had ever seen when they realized they were both going to live. Ah, young love.
Keaton was still trying to figure everything out.
“So…you’re a cop?” he said, for the fifteenth time.
“Yes, Keaton, I’m a cop. Undercover.”
“And I’m not under arrest?”
“No, Keaton. You’re not under arrest. You may be a complete jerk, but I have very little evidence against you, seeing as how it was pretty much all destroyed.” Besides, Stavros couldn’t bring himself to slap handcuffs on the guy. Not after he’d thrown himself in front of what he’d thought was a loaded gun.
“Right. Right. But what I want to know,” Keaton continued, “is how this is going to affect our relationship.”
“Our relationship?” Just when Stavros thought it couldn’t happen any longer, somehow Keaton still managed to catch him off guard.
“Our business relationship, dude. Seriously. No need to get all homophobic on me.”
“Um, Keaton, are you forgetting? I’m a cop. There is no way we can have a business relationship.”
“Man, you’ve got to learn how to think outside the box.” Keaton pointed at his own chest, then winced, apparently having poked himself in one of his many bruises. “I can be your CI”
Down & Dirty: A McCray Crime Collection Page 46