Give the Devil His Due

by Blackwell, Rob

  Tim opened the door and gestured grandly to Kieran.

  “After you,” he said.

  Kieran gave him a dirty look and walked in. He stopped after walking a few feet, realizing he had no idea where he was going. He waited for Tim to tell him where to head next.

  “We need to go to the basement,” Tim whispered and gestured toward the stairs. “Normal evidence is held in lockers on the first and second floors, but these were different.”

  “I imagine they were,” Kieran replied in a normal voice. “I still don’t know exactly where the damn shield came from. It always unnerved me a little.”

  “Shhh,” Tim said. “You want the guard to know we’re here?”

  “There’s a guard? It’s past two in the morning,” Kieran whispered.

  Tim nodded.

  “Trust me, there’s a guard,” he said. “The question is whether there’s more than one.”

  “If we get caught…” Kieran started.

  “Then Kate will either break us out or she’ll go without us. But let’s not let it come to that.”

  Tim pointed to the end of the hallway and gestured to the left. Kieran crept up and looked around the corner, but didn’t see anyone. He looked back at Tim and nodded. The two walked around the corner and Kieran then saw a small light at the end of the hallway. He thought he could even hear a voice talking to someone. That meant either a guard was talking on the phone, or he was chatting with another person. Kieran looked at Tim in alarm.

  Tim shook his head and pointed to a door on the right. They ducked through it, with Kieran being careful to open the door as quietly as possible. Once inside, he saw it was a stairwell. Kieran wanted to ask how Tim knew the layout of the building so well, but didn’t want to risk speaking out loud. For all he knew, the guy had downloaded blueprints. He reminded Kieran a lot of MacGyver. He was certainly dogged about working through any obstacle.

  When they reached the door to the basement, Kieran carefully opened the door in front of him. He peered around the corner, but didn’t see any lights or sign of a guard.

  “Quickly,” Tim whispered.

  They walked through the door and Tim flicked on a small flashlight. He gave one to Kieran.

  “I’m not sure where they have it stored,” Tim said. “It might be in a big locker or a box. Look for labels.”

  They passed a few sets of cubicles — Kieran pitied whoever worked down here — while Tim flashed his light around the room. It just looked like a normal office space, not the kind of place someone would keep important evidence. They walked to a door at the end of the corridor and pushed it open.

  Kieran panned his light around the area.

  “Shit,” he said.

  His heart sank. Inside the door was a room the size of a small warehouse. It was stacked with boxes, most of which appeared to be placed there haphazardly. There was a set of oversized lockers on the wall.

  “We’d better get started,” Tim said, pushing in behind him.

  “You can’t be serious,” Kieran said. “This is Raiders of the Lost Ark-type storage, man. We’re never going to find it.”

  “You wanted to know why we’re doing this instead of Kate?” Tim asked. “The simple answer is she doesn’t have the time to sort through all this shit. We do.”

  “You know, they really should have a better system than this,” Kieran said. “You said this was unique evidence. But it’s sitting here with a bunch of boxes. Are you sure it’s even going to be down here?”

  “The Loudoun police force has been hit with budget cuts,” Tim replied. “Do you think the evidence storage department sounds so sexy that the board of supervisors didn’t think they could pinch a few pennies? Besides, the case you’re talking about is solved. They know Kate did it. They aren’t too worried about having to prove anything in court. I’m sure it was just placed here temporarily while they sorted the situation out. Then they promptly forgot about it when it wasn’t immediately needed.”

  Kieran sighed.

  “I’ll start with the lockers,” he said. “You want to look through the boxes?”

  Tim nodded and went to work. Kieran watched as Tim opened the first box he saw and flashed his light inside it. He hoped Tim might find something quickly and they wouldn’t spend all night sorting through junk, but that idea was quickly dashed. Tim went from the first box to a second, then a third.

  He turned to face Kieran.

  “You going to get started?” he asked. “Those lockers won’t search themselves.”

  “Right,” Kieran said.

  Kieran walked over to the lockers. The first few were empty. He was beginning to hope they would all be empty — it would at least make searching them faster — when he found something in locker nine. It wasn’t anything useful, just an extra-large umbrella wrapped in a large plastic bag. He thought the tip looked like it had been dipped in blood. There was a case number and name attached to it. Kieran put it back inside the locker and kept going. The next few lockers were similar, filled with items from crimes he couldn’t guess.

  Kieran went as quickly as he could, but the work was still mind-numbing. A machete here, a stack of books there. He was aware he was looking at the worst side of humanity, but who was he to judge? Odds were that he had done far worse than most of the criminals whose evidence was stored here.

  He’d stopped paying full attention by the time he opened locker thirty-three. By rote, he flashed his light around the locker, intending to move on quickly. His light caught a flash of red and Kieran nearly didn’t stop. He was, after all, looking for a sword and a shield.

  But the sight of bright red caught his attention. The object sat alone in the locker — a space many times bigger than it needed to be. It was wrapped in a plastic bag, labeled with a name and number, but Kieran didn’t bother to look at them.

  Cautiously, he looked over his shoulder and saw Tim still digging through boxes.

  He looked back at the object in the locker. When he flashed his light on it, the red glass handle almost seemed to glow. Kieran reached forward and grabbed the bag. He slowly took the object out. With a glance to make sure Tim wasn’t looking, Kieran held the weapon in his hand.

  It was an exquisitely crafted knife. Such a small thing, Kieran thought, yet it had so many large consequences. He remembered the last time he had held it, when he plunged the knife through the heart of Quinn O’Brion.

  Kieran had killed before, of course, enough that he’d lost track. The face of Carol Cuthberson flashed through his mind. But killing Quinn felt different, even if he couldn’t explain why.

  The knife called to him. Sanheim had given it to him, a present originally designed to kill Kate.

  Take the knife, Kieran thought. It’s only fitting.

  Yes, it was fitting. He wasn’t sure his plan called for it specifically, but the synchronicity of having it was too good to pass up. The knife would work perfectly for what he had in mind.

  Kieran put the knife back in the bag and stuck it in his jacket.

  “Kieran,” Tim called suddenly.

  He jumped in response, sure that Tim had seen him and would tell Kate what he was doing. His plan would be over. And maybe that was for the best. As always, he remained deeply ambivalent about the success of his own endeavors. Hadn’t he done enough damage already? His plan was madness. Maybe he should be stopped now.

  “Yes?” he called out.

  Tim gestured excitedly to a box.

  “I think I found them,” Tim said. He was digging through the box.

  Kieran sighed in relief. Tim hadn’t seen him. There was no way he would let that pass if he had.

  Tim fumbled with the box and pulled out a sword. He flashed his light on it and it reflected off the walls. It too seemed to glow, though Kieran knew that was impossible. He didn’t know how the knife was made, but the sword was forged by human hands. It shouldn’t have any supernatural powers.

  “There, did you see that?” a voice said from outside. It came from jus
t down the hall.

  Tim gave Kieran a panicked look and practically jumped over a pile of boxes to hide behind them. Kieran, on the other hand, was standing in the middle of the room. He looked around frantically for somewhere to flee, but there was no way out. Unless he made a huge racket, he had no time to take cover behind the boxes with Tim.

  As the handle on the door turned, Kieran looked behind him at the oversized storage locker. He hurriedly stuffed himself inside. He had just managed to fold his limbs in when the door to the storage room opened and a light came on. Kieran quietly pulled the locker door shut behind him, hoping he hadn’t made much noise.

  “I swore I saw lights in here,” the voice said again, speaking more loudly.

  “You’re imagining things, Gary,” another voice said. “You’ve been jumpy ever since the attack on the station.”

  “You didn’t see it, dude,” the first voice said. “It was like something out of a fucking nightmare. It had no head.”

  “You mentioned that,” the second voice said. “Several times.”

  “It. Had. No. Head,” the first voice said. “I’m not making it up. A bunch of us saw it.”

  “Well, Kaulbach insisted he saw a head underneath the outfit,” the second voice replied. “He said the guy was wearing a bulletproof vest.”

  “The shots went through him,” the first voice responded. “Kaulbach is full of shit.”

  “Anyway,” the second voice said. “There’s nothing here. Look.”

  They stopped talking as they presumably looked around.

  “I saw something,” the first voice responded.

  Kieran heard him start opening lockers.

  Shit, he thought. When they catch me, they’ll find the knife. Even if the police don’t keep me, I’ll still be a dead man when Kate finds out.

  “What the hell are you doing?” the second voice said. “A person can’t fit into one of those.”

  “I heard voices in the hallway upstairs earlier,” the first voice responded. “I’m sure I did. Then there were lights in here. Something is up.”

  Kieran heard him open and close a few more lockers.

  “Look in the boxes, will you?” the first voice said.

  “If it’ll make you shut up, I’ll do it,” said the second voice.

  Kieran closed his eyes and tried to keep from hyperventilating.

  Here we go, he thought.

  He wasn’t this nervous when the police caught him the first time. But that had been part of a plan. This… this was a stupid risk. Yes, the sword was part silver and kicked ass. And yes, the shield would likely help too, but did they really need them? And then there was the knife. He was such an idiot.

  The first voice was closer, still talking with his partner. Kieran couldn’t tell how close, but he heard a locker slam near him. He could hear the sound of the guy’s partner rummaging through boxes. He kept waiting for the shout that would come when he found Tim.

  The first voice was right near his locker now. He couldn’t see much, but he could make out the guy’s shape through the slats. He waited for him to open the door.

  “Fuck this,” the second voice said. “I’m not going to spend my night going through boxes, Gary. There’s nothing here.”

  “I saw something,” the first voice responded. He was just two feet from Kieran.

  “So what if you did?” he said. “Come on, let’s go upstairs, get some more coffee and relax. I’m tired of this shit.”

  With that, the second cop apparently left. The officer in front of Kieran let out a loud sigh. He seemed to be looking around the room, as if waiting for something to jump out at him. After a minute, however, he slammed his hand on Kieran’s locker. The noise reverberated through Kieran’s skull and he had to work hard to keep himself from crying out.

  “Damn it,” the cop said.

  Kieran saw the officer walk away from the locker, and then the light went out. He heard the door slam.

  “Wait up, Phil,” he heard the voice call. “I don’t like being alone down here.”

  “You scared of the dark too?” the other officer called back from down the hall.

  “Fuck you,” Gary replied.

  Blessedly, the voices receded. Kieran heard the two of them talking as they apparently went through the door to the stairwell.

  Kieran waited ten minutes before trying to extricate himself. Then he tried to open the locker door, but without an inside handle, he wasn’t sure how that was going to happen.

  Maybe Tim is going to leave me here, Kieran thought. Maybe he’s already left.

  But just as that thought occurred to him, someone quietly clicked open the locker door. Kieran was relieved to see Tim standing outside.

  “You ready to get out of here?” he asked.

  Kieran crawled slowly out of the locker, bending and twisting his limbs as he did so. He felt sure he pulled a muscle in his back. When he finally emerged, he saw Tim was holding the sword and shield.

  “Let’s take it nice and slow, okay?” he said. “That was far too close for my taste.”

  Kieran nodded and the two quietly opened the door and crept through the police building. They worked their way upstairs without a word. Not until they were outside did Kieran finally start to relax.

  “Mission accomplished,” Tim said, looking pleased with himself, as they headed back into the night. With the sword and shield in his hands, Tim looked like he was on his way to a Renaissance fair.

  Kieran just sighed in response. When Tim turned away, his hand went to the bulge in his jacket. Kieran patted the knife to make sure it was still there.

  Chapter 22

  The snow arrived without warning. They had been marching more or less uphill for five grueling hours, rarely stopping to rest. The turf was uneven — rocky and steep. But despite the difficult terrain, they had chatted occasionally and even managed some moments of levity between them. Quinn wondered if the unpleasantness of the past evening was behind them.

  Then the snow arrived. It didn’t come in stages, with a light dusting followed by a heavier shower. It came instead as a sudden blizzard, with gale force winds that chilled Quinn to the bone.

  Until that moment, Quinn wasn’t even sure he could get cold. He’d been largely indifferent to the weather and his clothes. In the excitement of Halloweenland and the cornfield, he hadn’t even noticed where his clothes came from. He’d apparently arrived with the same kind of outfit he wore when he was alive. He was dressed in jeans and a nondescript gray long-sleeved shirt. This was perfect for the experiences he’d had so far, so much so that he had given his attire no thought at all.

  But as the snow swirled around them, he quickly grew cold and wished for a jacket. He looked at Janus, who was dressed in only a tee-shirt and jeans, and saw him rubbing his arms to stay warm. Elyssa and Carol were also severely under-dressed for the winter wonderland they were now walking through. Only Buzz seemed unaffected, but he was dressed in the light green jacket he always wore.

  Quinn stared at Buzz for a moment, noticing how he kept checking behind them. Quinn thought about Buzz’s jacket again.

  He knew that jacket well. In the years he had worked with Buzz, the jacket and man were inseparable. So much so, Kyle had taken the jacket after he killed Buzz to disguise himself. So how was it here? The jacket should be in Virginia somewhere. For that matter, how did they have any clothes at all? How did they have shoes? It was strange that he’d never stopped to consider the practicalities of his situation until now.

  The snow was already slowing their progress. In just a matter of minutes, it had snowed several inches. Very soon, it would be several feet. It was getting harder and harder to walk. Quinn tried to see if they were near the top of the hill, but the wind and snow had long since obscured his view. Quinn stumbled over to Carol, who had her arms wrapped around herself.

  “Carol,” he called.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m cold, hon,” she responded. “How do you
think I’m doing?”

  “Where did Buzz get his jacket?” he asked.

  “What?” she responded.

  “How does Buzz have his jacket? He always wore that when he was alive, but he shouldn’t have it here.”

  “I...” Carol stared at him with a puzzled look.

  Quinn waited for Buzz to catch up to ask him the same question. Buzz shrugged.

  “I had it when I arrived,” he said. “I never thought about it until now.”

  Buzz suddenly glanced at his jacket suspiciously.

  “Do you think it’s a plant?” he asked with concern. “Like maybe Sanheim hid something in my jacket?”

  Quinn gave him an odd look.

  “No, Buzz, that’s definitely not what I meant.”

  He looked at Carol and grinned.

  “I think I’m on to something, right?” Quinn asked.

  Buzz looked from Carol to Quinn in confusion.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that,” she said. “I just...”

  “You took it for granted,” Quinn said. “Which is kind of funny, considering how different you look and talk.”

  “I may look like a younger version of myself, but I don’t talk any different, sugar,” Carol responded.

  “I don’t remember you saying ‘sugar’ and ‘hon’ before, Carol,” Quinn said. “When Kate met Madame Zora, you didn’t even have an accent. Now you have a thick Southern one.”

  Carol looked stunned again.

  “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, you’re right. It’s how I talked when I was…”

  “Nineteen?” Quinn asked.

  “So what?” Buzz asked. “So she talks like she did when she was young. What does this have to do with my jacket?”

  Buzz was still looking at it anxiously, as if at any moment it might attack him.

  “Consciously or not, Carol chose an identity that best fit her when she arrived here,” he said. “She’s young again. You look younger too, for that matter.”

  “This is what I looked like when I was in Vietnam,” Buzz said.

  “Exactly,” Quinn said. “It’s where you got the jacket, right?”