by David Carter
Danny grinned from ear to ear. “Shit, I love your stories, man.”
“Well, I got plenty of them.” He grinned back. “Now, where was I?”
“Getting in the shit with your mum.”
“Ah, that’s right. Well, I got the room to myself, which I absolutely loved, and with all the peace and quiet I now enjoyed, I took up drawing. I liked the freedom of putting my somewhat peculiar thoughts down on paper in the form of pictures instead of words. They were unusual and generally creeped people out, especially my mum. She said they were evil messages from the devil that resided in me. I told her she was going crazy if she truly believed that. But you can’t argue with a religious person, especially when it’s your own mother. She told me she had mentioned them during her weekly confessions at church, as she was worried the devil had taken possession of me. The priest told her my soul needed cleansing. I was taken to church to be baptised, and surprise, surprise, I told them both to go fuck themselves.”
Danny laughed till he had tears in his eyes. “Shit! I would kill to have seen that!”
Blaze laughed with him. “It was a private ceremony that had been arranged without my knowledge, so I ended up punching the priest when he tried to force me under the water. I told my mum I hated her, and that both she and the priest were fucking mental.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I saw through the deception of religion at such a young age, especially after my dad treated me like a piece of sludge under his toenails. What I couldn’t understand was how God was responsible for all the good shit that happened in life, but as soon as any bad shit happened, it was God ‘testing your faith’ or it was ‘the Devil’. My favourite excuse was that ‘God works in mysterious ways’ and that ‘we couldn’t possibly understand his will for our lives’. I just thought that if God truly existed, and everything good and bad in the world was orchestrated by his hand, that he was an asshole. It’s like we’re all running about in an ant farm, and he is having a great time playing with us, deciding who lives and dies on any given day, in whatever way he chooses, because, well, you know—it’s all God’s will, right?”
“That’s certainly a unique way of looking at things...”
“Yeah, I know I’m a tad crazy, but I’d discovered that I was in control of my life, and that I had to be proactive to make things happen; I didn’t have to ask God for jack shit.”
“Sounds like you found yourself.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He paused. “So anyway, drawing became my obsession, and before long, I was quite the accomplished artist for my age.”
“If you don’t mind saying so, yourself,” interrupted Danny, grinning as he said it.
“I constantly stayed up late, drawing in my bed until I fell asleep. Half the time I woke up with my pencil digging somewhere into my body.”
“You’ll have to show me some of your work sometime.”
“I’ll show you some right now.” He pulled off his shirt, revealing his tattoos.
“Dude! Did you design all of them?”
“Every last one.”
Danny was fixated on the large tattoo on his back of a skeleton nailed to a cross, engulfed in flames. “What does SINNERS & SCARECROWS mean?”
“It’s the name of my motorcycle club.”
“Your motorcycle club?”
“That’s right. I founded it eight years ago.”
“Dude! I love riding! You’re a goddamn legend!”
“Thanks, Danny boy. We must take a ride together someday.”
“Shit, I could only dream of that...”
“We’ll make it happen somehow, man...anyway, getting back to my story, where was I, oh yeah drawing in bed. Well, sometimes when it was really late at night, around eleven o’clock or so, I started to get these strange feelings come over me, like I was being watched through the window or something.”
“Dude, that’s some creepy shit.”
“I thought I was just psyching myself out because it was dark and it was late at night, but I couldn’t shake the feeling for weeks.”
Blaze paused. He closed his eyes and started trembling. Danny swore he saw a tear trickle out from one of his eyes.
“Shit, are you okay man?” Danny asked.
Blaze took a deep breath, exhaling long and slow, relaxing as he released the anxiety buried deep within his memory. “I’m okay. It’s just that I’ve never shared any of this shit with anyone before. It’s actually quite a relief to finally get this off my chest.”
“So, what happened?” asked Danny.
“One night, after falling asleep, buried in my drawing book as usual, I suddenly woke when I heard a creak in the hallway outside my room. I thought it was probably one of the other boarders going for a midnight piss. I shrugged it off and tried to go back to sleep, except I had that feeling in my gut, like something was horribly wrong. I closed my eyes, then I heard my door handle slowly turning and the door quietly creaking as it opened. I froze in my bed. I thought Terrance and his dickhead mates had finally come to pay me back for the thrashing I had given him, and waited for them to make the first move.”
Blaze paused. He exhaled long and smooth again, then said, “What I didn’t expect was a strong hand to clamp my mouth shut, a dagger to be held to my throat, and the weight of a full-grown man to pin me down to my mattress.”
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Danny.
“I’ll never forget the words he whispered into my ear.”
Blaze closed his eyes, reliving the moment in its cruel and undignified glory.
Danny’s heart was pounding as Blaze left him hanging. “Shit, man, what the hell did he say?”
Blaze kept his eyes closed as he said, “Hold still, Bobby, this will only take a minute...”
Danny was speechless. Blaze opened his eyes and continued. “The fucking bastard was obviously confident, as he threw his dagger on the floor, freeing up his hand to rip my pants off. He must have been experienced, because he pulled off his shirt and pulled down his pants, just enough to do what he needed. I finally broke out of my state of terror, and my brain clicked into survival mode.”
“More like, ‘Blaze mode’.”
“I crawled around my bed, looking for the only weapon I had. I finally found my freshly sharpened pencil under my pillow, and waited for the opportune moment to strike. As the man got into his rhythm, which was fucking painful by the way, he started to loosen his hold on me, and started focusing on his own pleasure. I managed to catch him off guard, and sharply rolled around onto my back. Then with everything my little arm had, I stabbed that motherfucker in the chest with my pencil. It happened so fast he didn’t see it coming. He yelped as I drove the pencil deep into his chest, then he jumped off the bed, falling to the floor, as his pants were still halfway down his legs. When he hit the floor, the pencil drove further into his chest and snapped in half, as his upper body took the brunt of the fall. He stood and pulled up his pants, before he found his shirt and dagger. Then the fucking coward gapped it.”
Danny sat in silence for a moment, in shock, then said, “You are the most stubborn son of a bitch I’ve ever come across, man. It’s no wonder you picked Poochie for a deathmatch tonight. I hope you destroy that child-molesting fuckhead.” He paused, then said, “So did you report it to the police?”
“No, I made the mistake of trying to talk to my mum for the first time in ages. She was dealing with a high-pressure job, going through the divorce process with Dad, and generally had a lot of shit on her plate. I walked into her office the next day, and said that I needed to tell her something important. She had divorce papers, and what I think was the school budget on her desk, which from what I had heard from Trinity, wasn’t good, so she really wasn’t up for a heart to heart with her devil-child at that particular moment. But I had to tell her there and then, because like I said, I really wasn’t much of a talker as a kid.”
“So, what happened next?”
“She screamed at me to get out o
f her office, and to talk to her about it later, and I’ve never forgiven her for that. And after the way she publicly disowned me for burning down her precious, fucking school at my trial, I doubt I ever will.”
“Man, that’s some heavy shit. Did you ever tell her what happened to you though?”
“All I told her was that a man attacked me. I wasn’t going to tell her the full story; I wanted to make her suffer. It was hard enough coming to talk to her the first time in her office. It’s not like every kid wants to talk about the time he got raped in his sleep.”
“I totally understand that. So, what was her reaction?”
“You won’t believe it, but she mugged me off. She said the school was perfectly safe, and it was probably just a bad dream I had had from all the demons and creepy pictures I drew every night. The stupid bitch was in denial. So, after that, I gave up on needing her or anyone else’s help. I guess it was my mum and my abusive father that caused my dysfunction towards people who are supposed to protect others—because I simply love to hate cops and people in positions of authority—especially guys like the governor.”
“Yeah, we all noticed that.”
“So, after thirteen years away from Glendale and doing my own thing with my MC Brothers, I drove back to town on Christmas Eve, and finally burned that haunting chapter of my life to ashes, accomplishing my short-term plan.”
“Do you have a long-term plan?”
“Damn-right I do. I’m gonna find the fucker who molested me and make him pay for what he did.”
Danny grinned. “I can only imagine what you’re gonna do when you get your hands on him. At least I’ll get to see your practice run tonight when you take on Poochie.”
“Yeah, I guess you will.”
Danny thought for a moment, then asked, “So, did you see the guy who attacked you?”
“Nope, the coward was wearing a black mask with eye-holes cut out so he saw what he was doing. That’s why I haven’t managed to track him down yet. But the thought of revenge has kept me motivated to find him for all these years, so I’m not about to quit looking just yet.”
“Weren’t you worried about doing prison-time after you burnt down the school?”
“I think Nugget and Bulldog should be able to answer that for you.” He grinned.
“Do you even have a way of finding him?”
“Not really, but I have a couple of clues to go on. I’m sure the asshole lives somewhere in Glendale, which is the other reason I burnt down the school; to send him a message, to let him know I’m back, and that I’m coming for him.
“How do you know he’s still in Glendale?”
“Well I don’t know for sure that he’s still there, but Glendale is one of those fucked-up country towns that people live in for their entire lives. And when I was attacked, it was in the middle of the night, and the man knew my name and where to find me. It just felt way too personal for it to be a complete random stranger.”
“Good point. What else have you got to go on?”
“The man had a Bible verse tattooed to his chest.”
“A Bible verse? That seems a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess it does, but that’s what keeps me thinking he’s a senior Glendale resident, because it’s an old, traditional, religious town.”
“Did you see what the tattoo said?”
Blaze closed his eyes again, drifting off to that dark, terrifying place in his mind, remembering the words and numerals tattooed to the man’s chest. As he opened his eyelids, he replied, “How could I ever forget. It said, First-John, one, nine.”
Chapter 26
Sharon was having her afternoon break outside on the porch of The Greasy Axle when she saw a familiar red Holden Commodore pull up across the street. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Ryan get out of the driver’s side and walk towards her, closely followed by Hampton.
Ryan stepped onto the porch and greeted her with his dreamy smile, showing off his pearly-white teeth. “May I join you, Mrs King?” he asked.
“Why, that would be wonderful, Mr Ryan,” she replied sarcastically. “And it’s Miss King. I’m nobody’s Mrs, thank you very much.”
Ryan got comfortable, sitting at the opposite side of the table to her. He sheepishly said, “Not exactly subtle, was I?”
“Like a broken leg!” She laughed.
Hampton joined them and sat down next to Ryan. “We would like to take you up on your kind offer this morning,” he said.
“And just what offer was that?” she said flirtatiously.
Ryan quickly answered before Hampton could. “We need your help, Sharon, and it’s imperative that you tell us as much as you can before the story hits the media. It might be our only shot at catching an extremely dangerous man before he skips town, if he hasn’t already.”
Sharon’s smile quickly turned into a frown. “Just who exactly are you guys? And what was going on up by the church this morning? I saw all of you speeding past at a great rate of knots.”
“Can you spare us a few minutes to explain and ask you some questions?” asked Ryan.
“Sure, the bar’s dead in the afternoons. I should be free for a good hour or so until the evening punters roll in after work.”
“Brilliant. Well, I’ll start by telling you we are both detectives from the Milton City Homicide Unit, and that there’s been an unfortunate occurrence in Glendale that requires our expertise.”
“I had a hunch you were something important like that.”
Ryan hesitated before he said, “I have to tell you some tragic news that is probably going to shock you and the rest of the community.”
“Okay, this sounds serious...”
“You’re right, it is.” He paused. “Are you friendly or familiar with Constables Karl O’Brian and Luke Turner?”
Well of course I am! Everyone in town knows those guys. They have to be the cruisiest cops in the history of law enforcement.”
“Then it is with great regret that I inform you that Luke Turner was murdered earlier this morning in his home, and an attempt was made on Karl O’Brian’s life, too.”
Her face turned pale. “Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke!”
Hampton placed a hand on her slender forearm. “I assure you, this is no joke. I know it’s hard to lose a friend, but we need your help, and we need it now.”
Sharon picked up a napkin from her plate and dabbed her eyes. “I really liked Luke,” she said, and sniffed. “He was such a stand-up guy. In fact, I really fancied him a few years back, but he never reciprocated my feelings.”
Ryan felt sorry for her as he said, “Believe me, Sharon, there is a perfectly good reason as to why he didn’t return your feelings...”
Sharon looked at him doubtfully. “And what might that reason be?” she asked curtly.
“Because he was gay,” he replied.
“And he was murdered because of that fact,” added Hampton.
Sharon froze as she processed the unexpected news. “No way! That’s crazy!” she said at last.
“It’s God’s honest truth,” said Hampton.
“I guess that makes sense as to why I couldn’t land a date with him, because without trying to sound big-headed, I’m forever turning down drunken marriage proposals by the local bachelors.”
“I don’t doubt that for a moment,” said Hampton, reassuring her with a kind smile.
“So, can I assume Karl was his you know...?”
“Partner?” offered Hampton.
“Yeah, his partner,” she mumbled.
“Yes, he was,” answered Hampton.
“Jesus, it’s so weird hearing that after knowing them for so long.”
“I completely understand,” said Ryan.
“So, what happened to Karl?”
Ryan explained how he was found just in time by the paramedics, and how they had visited him at the hospital, gaining some vital information about the name of his would-be murderer.
“
Karl is still alive?” she asked with a ray of hope in her voice.
“For the moment, yes. But we damn near killed him only twenty minutes ago.”
“What do you want from me?”
“You must know most of the guys in town, as you’re the owner of the local waterhole. Have you ever come across anybody that is particularly vocal in their dislike of homosexuals? Or anyone with the initials M.J?”
“There’s no point in asking me about who’s vocal about their dislike of homosexuals in Glendale. That covers the majority of the town’s population. As for the initials M.J, I’d need to have a good think about that.”
“Please, take all the time you need,” said Hampton.
She pictured all the regulars that usually came into The Greasy Axle in her mind, and after a few minutes, she said, “I’m sorry, I can’t think of anyone.”
Ryan gave her a comforting smile as he placed his hand on top of hers. “It’s okay, you tried your best. You just let me know if you have any sudden epiphanies, okay?” He handed her a card with his contact details.
“Okay, I will, detective.”
“Please, call me Cameron, or Ryan, or Cam or just call me,” he said smoothly.
She gave his hand a squeeze of approval.
Hampton interrupted what he was sure were sparks flying between them as he suddenly had an epiphany of his own. He said, “Sharon, I’m sorry to ask you again, but can you think of anybody in town that isn’t a regular at your bar that has the initials M.J? It’s just that you may not have thought of somebody obvious in the community that isn’t a regular here. And from what Anna told us at the hospital earlier, he could possibly be an overweight male.”