A Life Removed

by Jason Parent

He crept toward the light. The floor creaked beneath his weight, threatening to give way. As he got closer, the room gradually brightened. The cold loft felt like a giant walk-in freezer. Until then, he’d been too distracted to notice the temperature. He shivered and pushed forward.

  The source of the glow was the edge of a doorframe. Aaron grabbed the corroded doorknob and was surprised by its warmth. He twisted it and pulled open the door, slamming it against the opposite wall while he took cover around the frame. Warily, he edged to the left to peek inside.

  The room was empty except for a few pieces of unfamiliar machinery. The source of the glow sat low to the ground, propped against the wall separating the room from the loft. It was a small antique furnace. Next to the furnace was a small folding table. His gun rested on the edge of it.

  He smirked. Things are looking up. He walked over to the table and found the surface covered with his and Brian’s equipment: both guns, nightsticks, belts, and—

  Holy shit. They left the radios! They took the pepper spray, flashlights, and handcuffs with them, but left the radios and guns. He chuckled quietly as he belted up, strapping on his equipment as if he were going to work. In a way, he was. It crossed his mind that perhaps he was being lulled into a false sense of security. It was a blatantly dumb move by criminals who’d previously been so careful. Maybe they’d just been lucky.

  His foot kicked something underneath the table. He looked down and saw a navy-blue gym bag and Ricardo’s bowling bag. Without bothering to open them, Aaron opened the furnace, warmed his hands, and threw both bags in. “Motherfuckers,” he said, snarling.

  He checked both guns. They were loaded. He pulled back the hammers on both then holstered Brian’s pistol. His weapon’s familiar grip comfortably wrapped in his hand gave him courage. The feeling inside him had yet to subside. He wanted revenge.

  He raised the radio and keyed the mic. “Dispatch, come in. This is Officer Pimental. Requesting backup and emergency paramedics immediately. Shots fired. Officer down. I repeat. Shots fired. Officer down.” Of course, no shots had been fired. Not yet.

  “Pimental!” an unfamiliar voice crackled back. “What’s your twenty?”

  “Not sure. Looks like an old textile mill not far from Battleship Cove. I can see the Braga Bridge through one of the windows, a mile away, tops.” Aaron paused. He thought he heard something moving in the loft.

  “Pimental?”

  “Stay quiet for a second.”

  Aaron turned down the receiver volume. He heard a noise in the other room. It might have been rats, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He keyed the radio and whispered, “I have to shut down. The perps are still on the premises. Bring everybody to the area. I’ll wave you down from the street.” If I ever find the street. He turned off the radio and hooked it to his belt.

  Creeping toward the entrance, he halted by the doorway. Footsteps too big to be a rat’s pounded the floor of the loft as if whoever made them wanted to be heard. Aaron shot a glance around the corner. A flashlight beam waggled around the room. He stepped back and listened carefully. He heard something else… Whistling?

  The flashlight holder’s position was easy enough to determine, but he couldn’t know how many others there were. Charging out, guns blazing, would be foolhardy. On the other hand, he would be cornered if he stayed where he was.

  Aaron took a deep breath and leaped from the room. He rolled into the darkness. The flashlight beam swerved in his direction.

  “Stay where you are!” Aaron shouted. “I have a gun, and it’s pointed right at you.” At least, I think it’s pointing right at you.

  “Aaron. It’s me. Carter. I’m unarmed, and I’m alone.”

  “Then you’re an even bigger fool than I thought. Shine the light on your face.”

  Carter complied, squinting as the light shone beneath his chin.

  “Put the flashlight down and roll it over to me.”

  “Aaron, that will probably break it.”

  “Then you’d better be fucking careful, huh?”

  “There’s no need for any of this—”

  “Just give me the fucking flashlight already!”

  Carter crouched and slid the flashlight along the floor. It landed less than a yard in front of Aaron’s feet.

  Aaron picked up the flashlight and quickly shined it around the room. Seeing no one else, he aimed it at Carter. “Raise your shirt and turn around. Slowly. Then, pull up each of your pants legs.”

  Carter did as Aaron asked.

  As far as Aaron could tell, the man wasn’t armed. “Put your hands on your head and leave them there. If you move, you’re dead.”

  Aaron canvassed the room with the flashlight again. He held it steady to peer into each dark corner. When he was satisfied, he turned back to Carter. “How the fuck do you get out of this place?”

  “There’s a slight trick to it.” He seemed awfully complacent, given the fact that circumstances were reversed, and he was the captive.

  “Get over here. Stand by the window, where I can see you.”

  Keeping his fingers interlocked atop his head, Carter strolled toward the window. If his hands hadn’t been raised, he might have looked as casual as a man walking through a park on a sunny day.

  The man’s calmness was unnerving. “You do realize that if help doesn’t arrive soon, I’m going to shoot you? What makes you so fucking cheerful?”

  “You’re not going to shoot me, Aaron.” Carter smiled, his teeth shining in the light. “You’re like me now.”

  “Is that what you think? Is that what made you come looking for me unarmed? I have news for you, bud. I’m nothing like you. Any of you. I admit I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I don’t believe it’s Brian’s soul or any of that bullshit.”

  “Exactly. I said you are like me now, not them. They’re puppets, ‘lemmings’ as I like to call them. You and I, we’re so much better. We’re capable of greatness.”

  Aaron raised his Glock to eye level. “You have thirty seconds to explain that.” He was stalling until he heard sirens in case the others were lurking about. “Even then, I can’t guarantee I won’t blow a hole in your head the size of a softball.”

  “Easy. If I meant you harm, don’t you think you would be dead already? Why would I come out here to talk to you like this? Why do you think I kept all your stuff sitting in there, waiting for you to grab it?”

  “No one ever said you were smart.” Is he bluffing? Carter seemed to be telling the truth. Something inside Aaron’s gut confirmed it. Perhaps it was his partner’s heart. “I don’t know what your game is, but it isn’t going to work. You now have twenty seconds.”

  “It has worked. The hardest part was getting you to eat the heart.”

  “Fifteen seconds,” Aaron said. Conjuring images of his recent meal was not in Carter’s best interests.

  “Fine. You can’t just go with it? You want an explanation? Let me explain it then. It’s all about Type A and Type B personalities, those who take what they want in life and those who are… well, pussies. You were a pussy, Aaron. That’s all going to change now.”

  “You’re calling the guy pointing a gun at your face a pussy? How smart do you think that is?”

  Carter waved a hand dismissively. “It didn’t take much to convince your friends. Doug and Kelly were brainwashed into the cult mentality long before I came along, but even Ricardo was a more-than-willing participant.”

  “I told you, I don’t believe in all that religious crap. Ten seconds.”

  “That makes two of us. I haven’t believed in it since I was a little boy. My father would try to beat it into me, but with every lick of the belt, he was just beating it out.”

  “You don’t expect me to feel sorry for you, do you?”

  Carter laughed heartily. “Not at all. I love my life and everything about it. My point is on
ly that I’m as faithless as you are, if not more so. I couldn’t care less about God, Christianity, and all that other fairytale bullshit. I just used it to make good people do bad things. All in good fun, I suppose.”

  “You preyed on Ricardo’s disability and his faith to trick him into murdering for your own selfish cause?”

  “Well, I’d like to think there was more to it than that, but yes. There are people like me everywhere, and many of them are better organized than your narrow-minded police minds can comprehend. You cops are so inside the box, never seeing the broader scheme. Satanism, Neo-Nazism, racist or religious hate groups—whatever the preface, most are simply means to control, to conquer, and sometimes, to kill. I used the language of the Old Testament. I twisted the messages of the book of Joshua to suit my goals nicely. And each of my carefully selected followers took the bait. The pages of our history books are filled with visionaries like me, exploiting religion to obtain power, acquire dominion over land, control the masses, whatever. My goals are maybe a bit more humble than some, but I guess I’m no different.”

  Aaron shook his head. “I can’t believe Rick bought into your bullshit.”

  Carter shrugged. “He wasn’t that hard, but I lost two others along the way. Sharon Thomas killed herself. I was always wary of that one. She was too weak. But Garrison—you know him as ‘victim number four’—he was a real bitch. ‘Waah, waah, waah, I can’t do this anymore.’ That’s all he’d say. It was just him and me at first. We killed three people the police haven’t even found yet. They’re buried… well, the location isn’t important.”

  “Wait a second. The fourth victim, Garrison Huntley, was a murderer like you?”

  “Yeah, pretty sweet, huh?” He frowned. “Well, he was a murderer, but not quite like me. I have… someone else in mind for that, someone I’ve had my eye on for a long time, though I’m sure he never knew it. You could say all this is as much his fault as it is mine. After all, he’s the reason I came back home.”

  Aaron didn’t care for the zealous gleam shining in Carter’s eyes. Are there even more of them? But he needed to keep Carter talking, so he kept quiet.

  “Anyway, Huntley was just another pawn. I tied him up and fed him one of my victims’ hearts, just like Ricardo did to you. He was my first go at the religious angle. I never had a partner before. I made some mistakes, seeing how it all worked out poorly in the end… for him, anyway. I perfected my craft by the time I got to Ricardo. But I have to say, Doug is my crowning achievement. He’s a perfectly trained attack dog.”

  Carter’s brow furrowed. Perhaps he’d noticed Aaron’s lack of enthusiasm. Then his eyes grew wide, and that zealous smile returned. “And get this! You know that woman in there? She was Garrison’s selection. He seduced her like a pro. Made me proud. But then, can you believe he actually fell in love with the slut? Outrageous, right?”

  Aaron didn’t answer.

  “Anyway, Garrison was married. ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife,’ yada, yada, yada. Once he was confirmed as an adulterer, my clan came around to my way of thinking. I hate loose ends. I had to use his four-year-old son as bait. Garrison knew he was dead as soon as he got into the van. It was dangerous letting his son go, though. But you know your friends… can’t kill the innocent. I should have gutted the little tyke, but what can you do? The stupid cops never even thought to question him, and he’d seen everything!” Carter smirked. “No offense, Aaron.”

  “None taken.”

  “Well, you should have seen the little brat’s face. ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ he cried. Ha! Try living down that memory, Junior.”

  “How?” Aaron asked, trying to keep the revulsion out of his voice. “How could you convince so many to do such unspeakable things? It’s not possible.” But Aaron knew it was. He couldn’t deny what his eyes had seen. Or what his body still felt.

  Carter beamed. “Finally, you’re recognizing my achievements. How do cult leaders get their followers to commit mass suicide? True, I exceeded my wildest expectations. But you underestimate the power of faith because you have none. You also ignore what you’re feeling inside. That feeling may not be divine, but it sure feels heavenly. You’re a god among men now. And it only gets better. With that in my arsenal, it’s not all that hard to believe how far a little education employed on impressionable minds can get you.”

  “You’re disturbed. You know that, don’t you? You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

  “From who? The police? They couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag. They search for a motive, so desperate to find reason in what I do. So I stall them with a false one, make them follow leads that go nowhere. Sure, it may lead them to our mutual friends in there,” Carter said, pointing behind himself, “but that’s where it all ends.” He winked. “You’ll see to that, won’t you, Aaron?”

  The question caught him off guard. “Why in the world would I help you?”

  “Oh, I can think of a reason or two.” Carter giggled, actually giggled, as if he were a woozy child after an airplane spin. “I know things the police don’t. Investigating Carter Wainwright will get them nowhere. I’ve set so many traps, so many red herrings.”

  “So what’s the truth? What’s all this for?”

  “The truth? That’s easy. I like killing people.”

  “And there it is,” Aaron said. “All the experts with their psychological mumbo jumbo, spouting why people like you do what they do, and the reason is that simple. You’re just plain fucked in the head. There’s nothing magical about it. You’re just fucking psycho.”

  Carter shrugged. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” He grinned. “But I can tell you this. It feels damn good to be me.”

  Sirens blared in the distance. Keep him talking. Just a little longer.

  “So why bother with the hearts?” Part of Aaron knew the answer. He just didn’t want to accept it. Energy surged through his muscles, and vitality coursed through his veins. Despite everything that evil man had put him through, Aaron was more alert, more ready for anything than he’d ever been. As if long-dormant brain matter had surged to life, his mind was sharp, focused. He knew the reasoning he kept coming back to sounded insane, so drugs seemed the most likely answer. He had been unconscious for a while. They could have drugged him. But if the power he felt was born from narcotics, he wondered how long it could last. And he wanted it to last.

  “Come on, Aaron. Accept it,” Carter said. “I can see it happening in you. I know you’re feeling it, loving it.”

  Aaron shook his head, but his heart nodded its agreement. “What would possess you to do that? To actually rip out a man’s heart and eat it?”

  The sirens were much louder.

  Carter glanced over his shoulder. “I should be going, but that’s such a great question. Have you ever heard of Joshua Milton Blahyi?”

  Aaron shook his head. “Who’s that? Another victim?”

  Carter laughed. “Blahyi was a high priest and leader of the Krahn tribe of Liberia. During the civil wars that plagued Liberia and Sierra Leone, he and his cohorts slaughtered thousands. Blahyi used to sacrifice children before going into battle. He would carve out their hearts and divide it into pieces for his men to eat.”

  “So because some crazy-ass motherfucker halfway around the world did that, you thought it would be a good idea to try it here? You’re doing a lousy job of convincing me not to shoot you where you stand. I’d be a hero, and you… you’d just be dead.” Yet, no matter how much he wanted to—and there was no denying that he did want to—Aaron didn’t pull the trigger. He didn’t care if Carter died. He just needed to know the truth of what he was feeling inside first.

  “Let me finish,” Carter said, sounding annoyed. “Blahyi explained everything. He talked of juju, a term used in Liberian black magic. It’s an aura found in objects.”

  Aaron rolled his eyes. “An aura, huh?”

  “I kn
ow what you’re thinking. I didn’t believe in that black magic nonsense, either. But I looked it up online, and I couldn’t believe what I found. The ritual is real, and it’s even practiced in America. So I figured, why not try it out? And when I did, I felt just like you do now: stronger, faster, smarter, able to conquer the world.”

  Aaron couldn’t deny the strange energy festering inside. His shoulders heaved with each breath. His pulse thudded with a dull but rapid staccato, veins bulging in his arms. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know much more than you do. I choose to believe that, in a way, what you ate was part of Brian’s soul, or at least the essence of his life. Call it a soul, life force, or even juju, the human heart has the strongest aura of all. In it resides whatever makes us exist and gives us energy, stored in a vessel and pumped out for use in moderation throughout our lifetimes. We take it from those we kill and consume it whole. It adds to ours, and we become stronger.”

  Aaron stared at him for a moment then burst into laughter.

  Carter’s jaw tightened. “Or it could just be a hormone that works like a steroid and improves brain and body functioning. It’s certainly unique to the human heart, though. I’ve tried animals, but you don’t want to hear about that. You can’t cook it or let it sit too long, or whatever’s inside… escapes. Who knows what it is? Who cares? It feels awesome, and it never goes away. I’ve heard LSD stays in your system forever, but this is so much better. It gets stronger the more you have.”

  Never goes away? It was a nice fantasy. Aaron couldn’t help but smile, which made him feel dirty. He was trapped in a dark mill, being hunted by killers, and he’d been badly beaten. Yet he couldn’t remember a time when he felt so healthy and grateful to be alive.

  Staring at Carter in that light—a villain about six feet tall, one hundred eighty pounds, with short brown hair, brown eyes and a clean-cut look—he saw a man who looked strikingly familiar. Aaron gasped. He lowered his gun, confused and frightened. When he looked at Carter, he saw himself. Drugged. I must be drugged.

  “It feels good to finally talk with someone about this, someone like me.” Carter gave him a wink that made Aaron’s stomach turn.