by Tisha Wilson
The stirring came from beneath his feet yet again and he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Apparently the wolves had stopped here for reinforcement and shelter. He lay the frame gently on the only table that remained standing. He walked until he found the kitchen, then the door that led to the basement. The door was gone but the entrance way had been blocked by branches, twigs, and mud. It was as if a wild creature had found its way inside this lovely home and made its nest.
Technically that was exactly what had happened. He took a deep breath as sadness filled his soul. There was a ripped and tattered maid’s uniform lying on the kitchen floor. There had probably been a whole staff of people working in this giant house. The house had probably been full of life, laughter, and happiness only yesterday, and now that was all gone.
His sadness was replaced by rage as he walked over to the branch wall and began to tear it down. The stirring inside turned to screeching howls as the light infiltrated the dank interior. He hurried outside and picked up a shovel that had been abandoned in the beautiful flower garden. The yard was what would be called ‘manicured’. Obviously someone had poured their heart and soul into taking care of the small delicate flowers that created wonderful designs.
He headed towards the house and smashed out the basement windows. Branches, twigs, and mud had been used to block these entrances as well, but he dislodged them easily enough. He closed his eyes against the howling screeches, but he couldn’t close his ears, his nose, or his heart. How did Al do this? How did she do it day in and day out? She probably didn’t take time to stop and look at family photos.
He turned and was going to run as far away as possible when he remembered what he had come for. As much as he wanted to run he knew that he couldn’t. There were things that they needed that these people would never need again. He headed around the house and back in the front door. There was a panel off the entry hall. It was an expensive alarm system. Little good an alarm did them. It probably wasn’t even set as they all curled up in front of the TV or did the things people did when they felt safe and secure within the walls of their own home.
He pushed the thoughts away from him with some effort and headed up the stairs. He found the master bedroom. There was a man’s wallet sitting on top. He used a napkin to open it up and pull the bills out of the inside. There was nearly two thousand dollars. Who walked around with two thousand dollars in their pocket? Someone who wasn’t in a public service capacity, that was for sure. Well, with the exception of maybe a politician.
He ignored the name on the driver’s license and put the wallet back. He found car keys and made his way back to the kitchen. The screeching had stopped but the smell was rank and foul. He covered his nose and went to a door that led to a garage. There were two jeeps, a station wagon, a Mercedes Benz, and a Saab sports car. He hit the button on the keychain and was relieved when the sports car beeped. They would need speed to keep ahead of the creatures at night.
He hurried to get inside and adjust the seat. The relief of being away from that house with its sad story was overwhelming. An entire family had been lost. Those left behind would be devastated by the loss. He made it to the place where he had left the X. He looked at the backseat. Al was going to be crammed in like a sardine. He had to get Al and the ammo back to the car. Nevada was a long ways off. He would make sure that they had a full tank of gas before nightfall came.
* * *
It was nearly two by the time he got Al and the equipment back to the car. He’d had some grand idea of tying branches together to drag both Al and the equipment out of the cave but first things first, the hole was too small. Second he had no hatchet or machete to chop branches large enough to carry her and the ammo out, and no idea how to tie them together much less rope to tie them with. He’d been forced to make the uphill hike to go in, and bring Al out. He had wrapped her in the sleeping bag since she was still missing skin in places.
He’d then had to go back for the equipment. They were getting low on ammo. He had some money, but probably not enough to buy an armory of silver cased bullets. He was spent by the time he slid behind the driver’s seat. He had to get some distance between them and Taming. He didn’t want to risk being identified again. He hit the highway and didn’t even stop to ask directions for three hours.
When he passed a road sign and realized they were going the wrong direction he stopped to buy a map. They needed to get a map and he needed some food. He stopped at a truck stop and pulled up to the restaurant side. He looked around. The parking lot was nearly empty. He slid over to the minivan he’d parked beside and checked to make sure no one was watching.
The plates were from North Carolina and the top of the van was loaded with luggage. They were on vacation and probably wouldn’t notice that their plates had been switched for some time. Who regularly checked their license plate number anyway? He quickly took out the screws and then transferred the plates to the sports car. He switched them swiftly and then headed into the restaurant. He placed a take-out order and went to look through the maps. He bought the largest road atlas they had then slid into a stool. Someone whistled from behind him.
“Would you look at that car!” He turned to see a few truckers that had spied the car and were standing near the window with their mugs of coffee to admire it.
“You get good gas mileage with that thing boy?” another of the truckers asked him. He wanted to sink into the floor.
“Don’t know yet. I suppose I’ll find out,” he replied tersely hoping that the tone would put off any further questions.
“Oh yeah. Takin’ ‘er out to stretch ‘er legs a bit eh?” another of the men asked. “Where ya headed?”
“Florida,” Jerry lied.
The man whistled again. “I bet you could hit about one eighty without blinking in that thing. Car like that goes a max two forty. You better watch out for speed traps.”
Jerry saw an opportunity. Though he wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, there might be some merit to what the men were saying. “Yeah. Wish I knew where to get one of those radar detectors.”
He waited a moment before making eye contact with the trucker who had mentioned the speeding problem. The man nodded and went back to his table. When Jerry got his order he went out to the car and started it up. Al slept peacefully despite nearly being twisted like a pretzel. He started up the car and it purred like a cat. He drove around to the side of the parking lot where the truckers parked. He waited fifteen minutes before the man approached the car.
“A hundred,” he said as he opened his jacket and showed him the detector.
“A hundred,” Jerry asked blanching a bit.
“Okay. For you two hundred.”
“What-”
“If I’m not mistaken I saw you on TV yesterday as that Deputy what’s gone missin’. Maybe I give the law a call, maybe I don’t,” the man said with a shrug. “No skin off my teeth.”
Jerry reached for his pocket when the man lifted the other side of his jacket exposing the gun waiting there. “Three hundred sounds about right,” he amended yet again.
Jerry slowly pulled out two hundred dollar bills. He then put an extra twenty on top of it and passed it out of the window. “A discount for an old friend,” he said as he lifted his shirt to reveal his own cannon.
“For an old friend,” the man replied as he passed the detector in with a smile that was minus two front teeth. He also produced a window suction to mount to the windshield, licked it once, and stuck it to the windshield for him before strolling off whistling a happy little tune.
Jerry plugged in the detector and waited for it to key up. Once he was certain it was working he hit the gas and left a bit of tire on the pavement behind him. Two days tops and they would be in Nevada and hopefully out of this nightmare. This couldn’t go on and on into eternity. He was nearly loosing track of himself. The only time he felt like himself anymore was when he was with Al. He could no longer see himself going on without her. He looked at A
l sleeping in the back seat. Some parts of this could go on and on and he wouldn’t mind a bit.
* * *
Alicia sat in the driveway of her rancho style house. Her hands gripped the steering wheel and she was taking deep breaths. What if she were to start this car up again? What if she backed out and then just drove and drove, would the nightmare be over? What was it about this memory that she had to live it over and over? Was there something she was missing? Was there something she could do that would change what had happened?
With a sigh she turned the car off knowing that even if she could just drive away, she never would. This was her penance. She deserved this, not sweet dreams about making love with Jerry. She reached across the front seat of her Ford Focus and grabbed the bag of subs angrily. She looked up in the mirror to be sure that her scarf was tied in a flattering way, not that she really cared right now. It was just what she always did.
She nearly kicked the car door open, slamming it closed behind her. She saw that the side door to the house was open a crack. She pushed the door all the way open. The door was not open because her husband had forgotten to close it. It was open because it had been kicked in and was hanging by only one hinge. She knew this, but she still had to go through her prior thought process.
Instantly she dropped the sandwiches and pulled the gun she had strapped to her belt. “Thomas! Jazzy!” she called out as she made her way swiftly through the den and then the kitchen. There was stuff everywhere… had they been robbed? She was on her way to the back bedrooms when… Her breath caught in her throat and tears sprung into her eyes.
She struggled to breathe as she fell to her knees and the tears spilled over. Sitting in the middle of a puddle of blood was a little brown eyed baby. She was gumming the silver skull and crossbones keychain Al kept on her bike keys, her chubby fingers wrapped tightly around them.
Al cried out as she sat up. It took her some time to realize that she was in the back seat of a sports car. Dawn was approaching and they were doing well over the speed limit.
“Good morning.”
The deep masculine voice was like a balm to her wounded soul. She reached up and wiped away a stray tear. Her arm felt raw and there was a pinching pain in her shoulder. She took a deep breath before she reached up and pulled at the surgical thread. It took some effort to pull the string from the nearly healed skin and she began to bleed again.
“You okay? You in pain?” Jerry asked from the front seat.
“You been driving all day and night,” she asked in way of an answer. She stripped from her tattered clothes before she turned and looked over her shoulder. The rearview confirmed her fears. The skin had been ripped from her back along with her tattoo. “We have to find a tattoo parlor. Where are we?”
“Somewhere between North Carolina and Nevada. Maybe Kansas.”
She reached into the front seat and pulled her satchel back. She pulled on her leather pants and bustier. She then tied her hair up with a leather strip.
“This might be a dumb question but… do you all grow your hair that long? It seems like it would be hard to keep up with all that hair and outside of the middle ages I don’t think men wearing their hair as long as the twins did has been in style… ever.”
She climbed into the front seat and hit the button on the side of the seat so she could recline. “This is a nice car. Where did you get it?” she asked as she lifted her arm to start digging out some rocks that had gotten embedded in it. It was a bitch when open wounds got rocks in them and then flesh healed over it. It was more uncomfortable than anything else. Rocks in her blood stream made her heart beat funny for a while and seeing that it was the only organ that seemed to still work she would rather have it running properly.
“You don’t want to know,” he replied and she could tell by his tone that he was serious.
She smiled wryly. “So… You’ve been to the dark side nest-ce pa? Now you know a little what it is like for me all the time,” she said seeing the haunted look in his eyes.
“Now I know,” he replied. “But you avoided my question.”
“Our hair… Our hair is different now. Our hair is no longer dead cells just hanging off of our head. It is alive.”
“What, like… Medusa?”
She smiled and tilted her head to look at him. It was so easy to be with him. He made things feel so normal when things hadn’t been normal for a very long time. She wasn’t even sure what normal was anymore. She’d departed from normal so long ago that sometimes it felt like she lived in a perpetual dream state. Feeling uncomfortable she looked forward.
“I could show you,” she said.
He looked uncertain for a moment but curious. She concentrated and her hair went from straight to tight bouncy curls. Again, instead of freaking out he smiled tenderly. “You’re hair looks nice like that.”
She shook her head and it went back to being straight. “I would have to keep thinking about it to keep it that way because my hair is naturally straight. I don’t plan on going to any fancy parties any time soon so there’s no point.”
“Well. I suppose I’ll have to look for a reason to take you to a fancy party,” he said with an easy grin.
She laughed out loud at that. “You would take me to a fancy party? Then what? Home to meet your mother?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“What? I am good enough for a party but too wild fo yo mama?”
“Nah. My ma might be too wild for you.”
Again she felt a laugh bubble up from her soul. She hadn’t just laughed like this for a long time and she was tempted to just give him a big ole kiss. She didn’t want him to read too much into such an intimate caress, however. Having a romp in the sheets was one thing but this, in these close confines, would mean something completely different.
“We need to get some rest and I need to find a tattoo parlor,” she said feeling the pull of fatigue. Her external looked alright but she needed more time to heal internally.
He took the exit that indicated there was a hotel and mall. They checked in and she noticed the wad of cash he pulled out to pay for the rooms. She was also keenly aware of the fact that he had gotten two rooms instead of one. When they got back to the car she reached in for the satchel and sent him a piercing look.
“You want to stash some of that cash in the glove box so no one thinks we robbed a bank or are drug dealers? Conasse.”
He reached into his pocket and did as she said. “What bug got up your butt?” he asked as he followed behind her. Their rooms weren’t far from the car.
“Do not worry yourself about little ole me. I’ll be in my room until noon. No self respectin’ tattoo parlor opens before noon.”
*
He didn’t get a chance to say anything else before her door slammed in his face. He knew why she was mad. He hadn’t meant to offend her. He just hadn’t wanted to be the type of man who assumed that because they had made love once that they would from then on be sharing a room. Perhaps he hadn’t made the right choice. He shook his head and fatigue took over his mind. It might be better this way.
He entered his room and pulled the blinds closed. He cranked up the AC before he found the remote and turned on the TV. He went into the bathroom and turned the shower on to heat. He couldn’t remember when he’d showered last. A story blaring out on the TV caught his ear. He left the bathroom and hit the volume button.
“In today’s top stories, there has been a bizarre accident in Fountain Inn, North Carolina. The family home of CEO Trent Myers was set ablaze in the predawn hours yesterday and it appears that the entire family was trapped inside. There looks to have been some type of chemical lab in the basement, possibly Meth, and the lab exploded, killing the four members of the family as well as a maid, a butler, and a gardner. It is unknown if CEO Myers was aware that a lab was in his basement but his son, Steven Myers, has a prior record for marijuana use. Authorities are checking into any illegal activities on the part of Steven Myers. It appears tha
t there were so many chemicals used to make Meth stored in the basement, however, that the bodies may have been completely incinerated...”
A picture of the smiling family flashed across the screen. His stomach flip flopped as he saw the faces that had stared up at him from the family photo he had held only yesterday. The report went on to say several other things about the dangers of the Meth labs and what one should do if they suspected a neighbor might be hiding a Meth lab in their home. Jerry had stopped listening by then.
He took a deep breath before tossing the remote on the bed and heading to the bathroom. The water was hot and he quickly stripped. He stood under the spray for a full minute and watched the pink tinted water run down the drain. He was covered in blood and filth and his hair was too long and his beard was starting to itch and his leg wound felt like it was still on fire. He looked over at his cast for the first time and saw how gory and ugly it had gotten.
He reached for a rag and did his best to scrub it clean without actually getting it wet. He saw himself in the mirror then and fear stabbed him in the chest. He didn’t even recognize himself. What had he gotten himself in to? He was a cop and instead of reporting the scene of that crime to the authorities, he had stolen the man’s money and his car. Not only that, but apparently Al’s secret organization had covered up what had really happened at the house. Now no one would ever know the truth. No one but him.
What kind of a life was this for a man to lead? He reached out to the countertop for the little razor they had in a plastic bag, similar to the one they used to seal plastic silverware. He opened the bag, lathered his face with soap, and began shaving. He would have to wait on a hair cut but by the end of the day he would have clean clothes, cut hair, and a clean face. He had to take control of himself and his life again.
Chapter Eleven
Alicia opened the door and had to pause for a moment. The smile spread wide across her face as she looked out at the renewed Officer Cayman.
“Well. It looks like you found your starch again sweetheart,” she said. She observed the straight crease in his kaki pants and the plain white t-shirt beneath his button up plaid shirt. If it weren’t for the tennis shoes he could have been all the way prep.