At this point, they had lost thirty puppies. Basel was extremely good at finding more of them. Dru didn't know or care where he got them from, but he needed at least thirty more. The losses would go up as the bones in the legs were changed. Ears were simple in comparison. That was why they were such a good place to start.
Dru envisioned that soon there would be little 3-D printers in shady offices in the city where a doctor would print up bigger breasts inside old ones. Or print fuller cheeks, a straighter nose. Cosmetic surgery would be easier than ever; no more saline bags popping inside people. Print up a better shape with the proper DNA. Nothing to pop, nothing to fuss about. There could be a kiosk in every mall printing out parts as easily as custom t-shirts.
Not that Dru cared much. He had bigger, badder plans. Imagine this; wake up and someone has printed and attached an elephant nose to yours. Oh, the parts he could attach on the unwitting population. Freak shows would become popular again. Insanely popular.
He considered the time working on this ruppie to be experience for things yet to come. When this job was over, he would take his team and make his own mark on the world. Basel carried a small brown puppy to the operating table. "Hey, boss, these ears are done printing. We better get going."
"What fun," Dru said and scrubbed his hands. Arnold washed his own hands meticulously and the two of them began the operation.
Basel did not operate. It wasn't his thing. He trudged back from the barn to the giant mansion, pausing to admire the bushes carved into cats. He thumped up the big marble steps and into the foyer. Gorgeous marble stairs spiraled up to the right, but he went left into the kitchen. He should start cooking or washing dishes. He kept thinking about Jaspierre. It had been at least a month or two and he still hadn't managed to dose her with a sedative. It was starting to grate on him. Usually, it was so easy to slip it in. She was cautious, wily even, that little lady.
He walked into her office. She had told them they couldn't be in there, but he wasn't one to follow rules. A massive wooden desk sat in the middle of the room. Each wall was covered in custom cut bookshelves. One of those ladders on wheels even sat on one shelf, like a library. There was a fireplace in this room. It was huge. Basel didn't even know they made fireplaces that big. It was bigger than his old bathroom. The sides of each fireplace had a carved statue of big cats. He ran his fingertips along the books, noting how dusty they were. Were they for show and she didn't know how to read? He cracked himself up and burst into laughter, leaning on the cat carving by the fireplace. There was a little click and the fireplace swung open. His seven-foot frame had to duck as he climbed down the stairs.
This was exciting. Dru would be jealous Basel found it. Down here was a crisp, clean white room. There was one large observation window and a huge control panel. Several large monitors showed different angles into the room. There were three windows on the right the looked down into three individual rooms. Each of those rooms was empty and white, except for the metal rings on the back wall. They climbed up the walls in pairs. Strike that; two rooms were empty. One had a bed.
Directly in front of the console was a room easily as big as a football field. In it were white panels in all sorts of shapes. As he stared at them, they shifted into a new configuration. It appeared to be a maze. A rabbit hopped and scurried to a little fountain of water. It drank while a big cat leapt down. This cat was too big to be a house cat. It was Labrador-sized and had big ears. It had dots like a cheetah but also had stripes like a tiger. The cat raised its tail end into the air and crept closer to the rabbit. Just before it pounced, another one of those big cats leapt down on top of the rabbit. The rabbit let out a scream like a small child. It electrified Basel as he watched the pair chase each other and consume the rabbit.
He sat at the control panel and messed with the buttons. Two blue buttons blinked, and he started with those. Two glass doors opened on the left of the console under the big observation window. Ikali and Tessa both came charging out. They were sick and tired of being locked down there.
Basel's eyes grew wide. This was a mistake. He let out these creatures. He froze by the console, hoping they wouldn't attack him. Tessa purred loudly and sat on his lap. Not vicious, at least. He picked her up and set her head on his shoulder as though she was a toddler, not a cat. He reached down and swiped Ikali off the floor and there he was with two cats in his arms. He needed to figure out what to do with them. He turned to stuff them back in the glass doors.
"You irritate the shit out of me," Jaspierre said. She stood there in high heels and a long suit. Her hair was long and curled down her back. "You must take me for a fool. You think I don't know you've been trying to dope me. You think I wouldn't notice you came down here? You're the fool." She reached for the control board and pressed a few buttons. The glass doors stayed open, but the fireplace swung shut.
Tessa and Ikali squirmed and clawed, painfully digging into Basel as he stood there dumbfounded. He tried to drop them both. Ikali hit the ground and snarled, biting his calf. Tessa held on for dear life, clinging her claws into his belly and shoulder. Basel hollered and tried to back up. Jaspierre opened a door behind him with the console. Her speed was remarkable and she charged him. He tripped backwards, sliding down a spiral staircase. He hit the ground hard, Tessa still clawing on him. She let out a hiss and leapt to the top of the staircase in one smooth movement. The door at the top of the staircase shut.
He stood alone in a hallway; it was white and smooth. Not a single door visible, not even the one at the top of the staircase he had just fallen down. He looked back and forth, trying to decide which way to run. A door appeared in the smooth hallway as it opened. Inside was a room with metal rings in pairs on the wall.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The house was nearly ready. Chance had everything in place. He almost regretted the facial tattoo. What if she didn't like it? Of course she'd like it. She was Jaspierre. She loved her men rough and difficult. He figured she loved sex as much as he did. She had that Russell guy and that Lucas freak eating out of her hands. Do you like it rough, Jaspierre? Both of those men were roughed up. She'd go for his tattoo. It'd make her swoon.
Still, he wasn't quite ready to pick her up yet. He was a cop, though, so stakeouts weren't a big deal. Watching her from afar was his kind of flirting. He sat in the old red truck he found at the cabin. He wore a baseball cap and thick, dark sunglasses. They almost made him giggle; wasn't this a standard perp look? Oh, you'll never notice me now that I have sunglasses! He almost roared with laughter. It was funny because it was true. It actually worked! Sunglasses make a person's face fade into the background, even a memorable face like his own. He had considered getting the kind of makeup girls used to make their skin look less ugly. But in the end, he didn't want to smear that goop on him. He patiently sat. She'd have to show up to work soon. The truck was already littered with fast food trash and porn magazines. And beer cans and a vodka bottle. Come on, you slutty hussy, shake your tail for me a little. Let's fall in love all over again. She drove up and the valet took her keys. She stepped out of the car, and there she was. Her heels were tall and a glittery red. Her skirt was long, dark blue, and hugged her ass just perfect. Her round breasts threatened to burst out of her shirt.
The wig she wore today was the long, brown curled one. She always wore one to work. Her work-self had long hair. He got it. His work-self wore a badge and it was practically the same thing. You gotta look a certain way to make the pay. His plan to observe her flickered, as he had to hold back the urge to take her. Go snatch her up and take her home and show her all the things he'd made for her. Have babies and grow old living off the land. It'd be magnificent. They'd have a family. She needed a family as badly as he did. Her mom was gone, her dads were gone, and she didn't have a soul. He was about the same. His dad shot his mom when he was five or six. His dad blew his own head off, and Chance stayed with his aunt. That was how he met Jasp, living with his aunt Liddy. She cleaned that big old house of hers.
But after he got tossed into foster care, he hadn't seen Jasp much after that. He never let go of her in his heart, though. Now he was jobless, but living off the land wasn't that big of a deal. The hunting was sure fun. Pow pow, and the brains 'splode. It never lost its charm.
Charming her would be important this time around. He botched it last time by killing that chick tied on the kitchen table. That old lady. The "it's not cheating if she's dead" line only went so far. He had to get her a ring this time and make it real. Jaspierre, girl, get ready for the proposal of your dreams.
She had long gone inside. Damn. Should pay closer attention. He almost started the car and drove off to sit in the cabin again. Watch some porn, think about their kids.
But then he saw it. A sparkle.
A thin, tit-less woman in a red dress and obnoxiously tall heels was strutting down the sidewalk. Her ring finger sparkled bright as sunshine. Didn't he just think he needed a ring? It had to be a pretty damn good ring for it to sparkle all the way across the street like that. She wore a large hat with a dark veil pulled over her eyes. She was walking with purpose, one foot confidently clicking after the other. The heels slowed her down just a smidge. It wouldn't be difficult at all to catch up with her. He hopped out of the truck and onto the sidewalk, pulling his baseball cap down low, and locking the door. A moment or two later, he was across the street, following at a safe distance. There would be a moment, soon, where she would pause at an alley, or head to her apartment, or step into a quiet part of the city. He watched for that moment; the moment when there wouldn't be anyone to witness him.
He'd follow her until he got it off her finger, or got her finger off. Didn't matter which.
Of course, if he got her finger off, he'd have to take her home...
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Jessi rapped on Edward's desk. "Hey, we didn't find the boy."
"Shit," Edward said. "Did you find anything? Do we even have a hint where he is?"
"I don't know. I thought maybe you'd want to ride with me for another look," she said. "I know the odds aren't good, but I'm tired of sitting uselessly at my desk."
"You know what? I'd be happy to leave my desk right now. I haven't gotten anywhere on this case. I've been calling people, but they won't call back. Chance has vanished. I don't even know where to go from here. A break would do me some good," Edward said, and he grabbed his coat. And they were back in her squad car. As they were winding up the long, two-lane road, he tried to peer through the tightly pressed together pine trees. He couldn't see much. "You really think he's wandering around out there?"
"We found his footprints the day after we were all up there looking in the cabin. I am just sure if we can figure out where to search, we would find them. But that big search team had no luck, so the odds are against us." She drove with a concerned look on her face, eyes scanning back and forth, back and forth. He knew she was thinking about the scared eight-year-old, Peter Mirabella. Was he hungry? He was most certainly scared. Was he cold? The fall weather had gotten nippy. An eight-year-old boy couldn't survive long in the woods alone with no adults. Or worse, he still had an adult. A man accused of child molestation. He hoped they weren't together.
But maybe Peter would be better off with Jack than without him. A kid could die out there alone in the woods. She slowed as they turned around a tight corner. "What was that?" he said.
"I didn't see it," she said. "What do you think it was?"
"I think we should turn around. Try to be quiet about it, though." His eyes scanned the left half of the road and, as she turned, he stared on the right half. His eyes never left the tree line, tightly packed as it was. She crept forward quietly, watching the road and glancing to the right.
"What do you think you...?"
"Holy fucking cow," he interrupted. "Holy fucking cow. Do you see that?" There was a break in the trees where a narrow dirt driveway led to a small, mostly rotted cabin. It looked like an ancient home; one of the sides slanted in and the roof seemed to be just about to teeter off. A dash of smoke came from the chimney, or what was left of the chimney. The bricks were scattered on top of the slanted roof. Standing at the front door was Jack. He appeared to be trying to prop up the front door to stop it from falling. As they sat there and watched in mute amazement, he dropped the door and it fell flat on the ground. He picked it back up, ready to wrestle it back into place.
"Call it in, and let's catch him," Edward said. She nodded. She spoke into her radio quickly, and they both hopped out of their seats with guns drawn and advanced on Jack.
"Put your hands up," Jessi said.
"I ain't done nothing." The door was in his hands. Jack did not put his hands up.
"I said put your hands up. Drop the door and put your hands up," Jessi said.
Jack held the door up, using it as a shield. He backed into the little falling-apart cabin. "Don't you come any closer. I will fuck this kid up."
Edward glanced at Jessi; did she want him to go around the back or the front? She looked over and caught his eye. She nodded to the front as she strode around the building to the back. He kept his gun on the door and watched as Jack propped the door up in place.
"Jack, you aren't going to hurt that boy. Not on my watch. We've got you surrounded. There's nowhere you can go," he said. "Come out with your hands up."
"I ain't coming out. Not with my hands up. Not with my hands down. I ain't coming out," Jack shouted, the sound muffled from behind the door.
"Look, Jack, we've got you caught. What do you think is going to happen next? Nothing good, that's for sure. Nothing good at all. You want a bullet in your brain? Or do you want to settle this civilly?" Edward said. He was hoping that all this chitchat nonsense would give Jessi time to get inside. Take him from behind. A nice, simple, altercation-free arrest. And with any luck, Peter would be sitting inside, right as rain.
"You better go away. I ain't kidding. I am gonna screw this kid up. I am going to do it!" Jack said. "You can't see me. But I got my gun aimed at him right now."
"Jack, I can see your fingertips holding up that door."
"Fuck you. You can't see shit."
"Jack. You better give it up. We've got you surrounded. Let Peter go. Let..." He was interrupted by a large crash. Four gunshots were fired. Edward charged at the door, busting into the little shack. The door clattered to the floor, on top of Jessi. She was bleeding. She let out a yelp when the door smashed onto her fallen body.
"Look out!" she shouted.
He turned, but it was too late. Jack had his gun drawn and clicked the trigger. The revolver was pointed directly into Edward's gut. The gun clicked, but nothing happened. Jack shook it and clicked again. Before Edward could process that the gun was misfiring, Jack turned and looked into the barrel. It was at this moment that the bullet finally fired.
Chapter
Seventeen
"You can step in or I can drag your unconscious body in. I don't give a shit which," Jaspierre spoke into the microphone on the headset she was wearing. She watched the screen of the empty room. Basel's huge black figure stuck his head in. She resisted the urge to snap the razor-lined door shut, decapitating him.
He paused and then looked back around the hall. Everything was a crisp, clean white. There were no visible doors; even the one at the top of the metal spiral staircase had vanished. He didn't have much of a choice. Besides, if he obeyed her, he probably would get a lighter sentence. That was how the world was supposed to work, at least. Do as you're told and you get to keep your skin. He stepped into the white room with the rings in pairs up the back wall.
The room was otherwise white; the walls were smooth. Once he stepped inside, the doorway behind him disappeared. Now he was in a white smooth box.
"Let's be quick about this. Do you see the light?" she said. He looked around the room and there was a red dot flickering on the wall. It was midway from one wall to the other and higher than his belly button. "Press your hand on it for twenty seconds. This
is the only time I am going to show you where it is. Memorize it."
He held his hand on the wall and counted to twenty. A small door slid open. A toilet and a little sink were revealed. They both stuck out towards the room. If Basel sat, his feet would be well into this white box. He turned back and tried to remember where the dot was. Fuck, he already forgot.
"Hey, I am sorry, you know? I didn't know you had pets down here. I got curious. I was trying to put them back when you walked in, right? So if you think about it: no harm, no foul." Basel spoke to the room. Nobody answered. Had she left? The bathroom door slid shut, and the wall was blank again.
"I haven't ever tried to dose you with anything!" he lied. "I'd never do that, especially since you're pregnant. Yeah, it's not a well-kept secret at this point. I'm not a baby killer." He counted his steps to the midpoint of the room. The dot of light had to be around here. He slid his hand on the wall. Shit. He had to hold it still. Good thing he didn't have diarrhea; he'd shit himself before he got the door opened.
"So, if you're still up there, let me know. We can work this out. It's not a big deal." He paused, hand on the wall, and listened for her answer.
Silence.
"Fuck, can you show me the toilet again?" He moved his hand and waited. He'd have to mark it or he was never gonna be able to piss. How long did she plan on keeping him down here? Pleading began to fade into rage. "Why the fuck are you leaving me down here? Talk to me! What the fuck do you want!" He punched the wall and his bone cracked under the hit. "Goddamn, I broke my hand! I broke my fucking hand. Let me out so I can get it fixed. This is fucking shit!"
Eventually, he slept. When he woke, he had to pee, and he spent at least an hour trying to get the door open. When he found the spot, he tore a fingernail loose a little and smeared the spot with blood. Fuck hunting for the door all the damn time.
Jaspierre's Descent (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 2) Page 10