The detective interrupted and, for the first time, seemed interested in her story. “For appletinis?”
Nancy took another step closer. The detective did not rise—however, he did keep rotating that thumb, so she did have a little more time.
“Um, yes, she left, and we were hailing a cab and I turned my back for a second…” The detective’s eyes glazed over again. Nancy didn’t have much time, so she hurried on. “I caught something out of the corner of my eye.” That didn’t seem to pique his interest either, and his thumb was slowing, so she rushed. “And I haven’t been able to reach her. I even went by her place, but she’s not answering.”
Finally, the detective put down his phone. “Okay, did you consider that she didn’t want to be disturbed? Say, because she was having sex?”
Nancy shook her head. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
“That doesn’t rule out having sex, my dear. Self-service? Girl-on-girl—”
Nancy put up a hand to stop his line of thought.
“Look, you don’t know her like I do.” She reached down and touched his wrist. “Something awful has happened to her.”
The detective breathed out heavily. “Okay, fine. After you say this ’something awful’ incident, you went to investigate and…”
* * *
“Well, um…” the woman sputtered, and even though his thumb was feeling pretty good about now, he let her finish. “The taxi pulled up, and…”
Jake looked askance at the woman. “Okay, so let me get this straight,” he demanded. “You think ‘something awful’ happened, yet you didn’t bother to check it out, and now—” Jake checked his watch. It was after eleven pm. “What time did you say this ‘something awful’ happened to her?”
“Eight forty-five,” the woman reported.
“Oh right, so now, three hours and fourteen minutes later, you expect me to get off of my butt,” Jake took in a breath, “right when, I might mention, it is supposed to start raining, and you want me to go out into the storm and check on your friend’s safety? Now that’s what I call concern.”
The woman bowed her head as Jake picked up his phone again. “I’m sorry. You’re right. If she doesn’t show up for work on Monday, I’ll contact Missing Persons.”
Finally, she was out of his hair. Now back to the game. “Maybe Icicle Rampage will take him out.”
His eyes flickered to the woman’s back. She didn’t seem like an alarmist or a crazy person, saying that her friend was missing just for the attention. How he almost wished she was. No, that had been real concern on Nancy’s face.
“Fine!” Jake called out, just as she was about to walk out of the bullpen. “You can quit nagging me, already.”
Nancy stopped and slowly turned around.
“You’re going to help me?’
Jake just nodded to his desk. “Give me her contact information and this ’something awful’ location, and I’ll look into it.” He paused for just a moment to clarify his position. “After I beat this level.”
She rushed back to his desk and scribbled down several numbers and addresses. Nancy offered it to him, but he was too busy playing to take it. Finally, she pressed the sticky part of the note onto his blotter, took off a red scarf around her neck, and laid it on top of the note.
“Thank you—and this is her scarf, in case it might help.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jake said. Once you gave these people an inch, they took a mile.
Finally, the chick got the hint and left, just as Jake lost again to the damned monster.
“Or maybe the beast has titanium armor with magical resistance to cold.”
That was it. Jake was tapped out. He didn’t have any other weapon to go up against the beast.
As he let that failure sink in, Jake looked to the note. The address wasn’t that far away, and looking out the window, it hadn’t started to rain yet.
* * *
Darion lounged back on his cot, his back against the wall, doing his best James Dean impression. He couldn’t show fear. Let him repeat, he couldn’t show any fear. Not with that lot just outside his cell. Right now, it was seven to one. He couldn’t let even a single bead of sweat form on his brow.
Not with Back challenging the threshold. It looked like he might actually try it this time. The rest of the men were right behind him. Goading him on. Which, why not? Let Back take the brunt of the punishment and maybe, just maybe, they might be able to grab the woman.
The woman’s gaze shifted back and forth from Darion to the rest of the men.
“Everyone? Everyone’s a serial killer?” she asked.
“All of us,” Darion clarified.
“Then why is everyone so afraid of you?” the woman asked.
Darion shrugged, bored with the conversation. She wasn’t going to last the hour, so why bother with small talk?
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Papa said from the back of the group. “He’s killed the most.”
Esau straightened, his nostrils flaring. Abruptly, he stopped reciting scripture. “I would take issue with such a declaration.”
Andrew chuckled. “Nobody, but nobody, touches Esau’s record. Most kills. Best dismemberment. They still can’t identify half the remains he left behind.”
Esau bowed his head. “I am only my Lord’s humble servant.”
* * *
That was not helping Evie feel any safer. As a matter of fact, it gave her the heebie-jeebies.
“Not outside,” Papa corrected. “In here. In here, Darion’s shown no mercy.”
Andrew nodded his head as if he were agreeing that the proper punctuation for a combined sentence was a semicolon.
“That is so true,” he said. “Seven down and counting.”
Back snorted. “Fucking good luck is all that is.”
Although, looking over to Darion, so cool and collected, Evie seriously doubted that. If it had been luck, that wouldn’t have held Back away for so long. As much as the rapist didn’t want to admit it, he was afraid of Darion.
“So, this is someone’s sick death match?” she asked.
“All you need to know, puta, is ‘game on,’” Back announced.
Papa, however, was slightly more helpful. He pointed to the cameras dotting the walls. “For the existential reason why we are here, you would have to ask him.”
“Who’s him?”
“The Wizard Behind the Curtain,” Door said, piping up from the middle of the pack.
“Or, as I like to call him, ‘The ‘Zard,’” Andrew said, as he made a theatrical wave.
This explanation wasn’t helping anything. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand, bitch?” Back asked. “Some psycho has gathered a bunch of us pervs so he can watch when I prove that I’m the Back Door Rapist.”
“Damn it!” Door shouted. “I’m the Back Door Rapist.”
Door shoved Back hard enough that he almost landed in Darion’s cell. Enraged, Back punched Door, but Door tackled the rapist around the waist, and they went down in a mini-brawl.
“Please, child, come out quickly and into my cell,” Papa begged as the doorway was clear for a moment. “I’ll protect you.”
She looked over to Darion, who never opened his eyes, yet said, “All of us.”
And Evie believed him. Papa seemed a bit too helpful. She doubted if there were many altruists in this dungeon.
* * *
“Come on, you pussy-whipped fuckers,” Back said. “We can take him,” he insisted. “Together we can take him.”
No one was stepping forward to volunteer, though.
Even Clyde was doubting him. “Then who gets her?”
“We’ll pass her around,” Back explained. Didn’t they all see? Once they were done with Darion, the woman was theirs.
Andrew giggled a bit. “Yeah, right. After you get done with her, there’ll just be cartilage and stringy meat left, that he’ll—” Andrew threw a thumb toward Esau— “have for breakf
ast.”
Okay, Andrew wasn’t wrong, but wasn’t a dead, half-eaten woman better to have than no woman at all?
“Sorry,” the chime voice said, not sounding a bit sorry at all. “But playtime is over. Return to your cells on the count of three.”
“Fuck!” Back yelled. Just when he was ready to take on Darion, the damn ‘Zard shut him down.
The other men ran back to their cells like little sissies. Instead, Back held his ground at the threshold of Darion’s cell.
“What happens if he doesn’t go back to his cell?” Evie asked.
Darion pulled down his turtleneck to reveal a thin metal collar around his neck. “I’d say about 5,000 volts.”
“Three,” the chime voice announced, although it was more like a threat to the men. Get back to their cells, or get the shit shocked out of them. Not even this skinny bitch was worth that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Back yelled as he rushed back to his cell.
* * *
Evelyn watched the men flee, leaving the doorway wide open. She stepped back out into the common area.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Darion said, still leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.
Evie took another step out, making sure that Darion didn’t follow her. “You’ve got to stay in your cell too, right?”
The man didn’t answer, but nor did he follow her.
“Two,” the chime voice said.
Evie watched Darion. Why wasn’t he following her? Dragging her back into his cell? Why was he letting her go without a fight? His lack of aggression was more disconcerting than Back’s lecherous gaze.
“What’s going to happen next?” she asked.
Darion didn’t answer—however, Andrew seemed more than happy to jump in.
“Oh, all the cells will lock…”
Door picked up where Andrew left off. “But then randomly, silently, the doors will open throughout the night.”
“Until you just can’t fight us the fuck off anymore,” Back finished as only he could.
Evie turned to Darion. “But you can keep me safe?’
Even though the man didn’t move a muscle, he still answered her question.
“Why would you do that?” she asked.
Darion slowly opened his eyes and looked her body up and down. Evie grabbed the collar of her shirt and clutched it tightly.
“Every morning that you wake up unmolested, you’ll perhaps…”
“Perhaps what?” Evie demanded.
“Perhaps be grateful,” Darion said.
Evie could feel her hands begin to shake. She willed them to stop. Now was not the time or place to show weakness.
“What? They said rape was not—”
“Grateful, is all I said,” Darion clarified.
Well, Evie took no comfort in that.
“One,” the chime voice announced.
Evie had a decision to make. Stay here and hope that Darion and her idea of grateful were the same, or take her chances out in the common area. Before she even realized she’d made the decision, Evie stepped backwards, over the threshold and out of Darion’s cell.
The door swung closed.
“Lockdown complete,” the chime voice announced.
Although Evie felt no safer. For the few moments she was left alone and the animals were locked in their cages, Evie ran for the door, clawing at it with her fingernails.
“Please, please, please,” she begged, of no one in particular, as Esau began his recital. “I don’t want to die.”
Stopping her panicked clawing, Evie looked to the door’s lock. It seemed solid and metal, however the wood holding the lock in place did not.
She shifted her focus and began chipping away at the area around the lock.
“I won’t die in here.”
CHAPTER 5
Jake tightened his coat around his neck. Damn, that wind cut like a knife. The winter storm the weathermen had been predicting had finally come blasting out of the north. And here he was out in a deserted alley, making friends with rotten takeout and used condoms.
Typical freaking Friday night was what it was.
He scanned the alley that Nancy directed him to with a skeptical eye. The woman had been downright vague. “Something awful” wasn’t a whole lot to go on.
“How do I get talked into this crap?” Jake whispered into the alley.
He really didn’t know. You’d think with so long on the job, and after everything that had happened to him, that he wouldn’t be such a sucker. The only silver lining in this situation was that not far down the road was one of the best all-night diners in town. A nice helping of chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes with country gravy, and a nice slice of cherry pie, à la mode, might brighten his spirits and maybe raise his blood sugar high enough that he might have a chance at level seven.
Then he noticed a scuff in the alley’s general grim. Then another scuff. It looked like an altercation of some kind had happened here. But there were lots of reasons for the oil and soot on the ground to be disturbed. It didn’t necessarily indicate that Nancy’s “something awful” had happened here. Nor were the tire tracks in the gunk.
Jake followed the scuff marks to a brick wall. There he found a spray of blood. The bright red fluid still glistened. It was fairly fresh.
“Well, what do you know? An actual crime.”
Nancy had been right after all. Unfortunately.
“Great, now I’ve got to do something about it.”
He knew that he never should have left the precinct. He got his phone out and hit the number one speed dial, dispatch. When the operator answered, he gave her his badge number and his request.
“Hey, I’m going to need a CS unit in the alley behind the Smart and Shop on Fulton.”
“When?” the operator asked.
What a weird question. “Um, tonight?”
“Swing shift is pretty backed up and hasn’t had their lunch break yet.”
The crap he had to deal with. “Tell the lazy bastards to get out here, now.”
He hung up the phone before she could argue. To only make matters worse, Jake felt a big, fat, cold raindrop on his head. Then another. The rain could wash away the blood evidence. Damn it.
“Seriously, I’ve got to stop paying attention to other people and their problems,” Jake mumbled as he grabbed a piece of wood broken off a pallet and a coat hanger and tried to construct a mini-tent over the blood. He didn’t have anything to hang on the crude scaffolding, though.
He shouted to passerby, “Hey! I need some help here! A tarp!”
They all just lowered their heads and powered on by. “A blanket. Hell, I’ll take a fresh condom!”
No one responded.
“My heroes.” Not.
His only option was to leave the crime scene, but the rain started coming down heavier and heavier. Even if he ran into the store, bought something and rushed back out, the blood could be gone. Even now, the stream began dripping red.
“Crap,” he said as he took off his jacket and draped it over the frame. The blood was protected. But Jake? Not so much.
* * *
Evie glanced over her shoulder. The men all seemed asleep. All the doors were still locked, and she was making progress. Real progress. The wood was old and rotten. She’d been able to loosen the metal flashing along the doorframe. With both hands, she tugged on the metal end, hoping to pull the entire thing off the frame.
Unfortunately, it was thin and cheap and broke off in her hand, nearly slicing her palm. However, it did leave her with a fragment of nice, sharp metal. She took it to the wood, gouging so much deeper than her fingernails ever could. Rapidly, she dug the wood out around the deadbolt. With the metal fragment, it was quick work. Completely freeing the deadbolt from the wood, she pulled the lock out.
She’d done it!
With a push, she opened the door to find another eight-foot, solid metal door behind it.
“No!” Evie yelled, dropping to her knees.
She had tried to bottle her fear and sorrow all evening, but it came brimming over. She sobbed, “this can’t be happening.”
“It is,” Back barked. “Now shut the fuck up.”
Evie squeezed her eyes shut. “This is a nightmare. I’ll wake up. I’ll just wake up.”
Her body didn’t seem to believe her, though, as she sagged to the ground, clutching her midriff, trying to hold in the sobs.
* * *
Jake tried to play his game, but it was a little hard, as water dripped from his brow onto the screen. He was already soaked through, so this was just salt in the wound.
“Whatcha got?” a familiar voice called from the night. A stocky African American CSI officer walked toward him.
“Brad!” Jake exclaimed, just glad to have another human to talk to. He lifted his coat to show the nice and preserved blood sample.
“Jesus,” Brad snorted. “You are the most inconsistent overachiever I’ve ever met.”
Jake would take that as a compliment. Especially tonight. “Is it human blood?”
“In a sec, bro,” Brad said as he dug around in his kit and pulled out a stark white cotton applicator.
Jake turned to another of the CSI techs. “There’re some fresh tire tracks in the mud over there, can you get an impression?”
Once the tech moved off as instructed, Jake turned back to Brad, who was dripping a solution onto the tip of the applicator that he had dabbed into the blood. The tip bloomed blue.
“Human blood,” Brad announced. “Although not all that much of it.”
“Yeah, Brad, the next time you get forcibly taken into a dark alley and hit hard enough to generate medium-velocity splatter, you can let me know what’s a sufficient quantity of blood to be worried about.”
His friend looked him up and down, then sighed. “Level seven still kicking your ass, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jake admitted. He pulled the scarf that Nancy had given him out of his jacket pocket. “Here’s a comparison sample for the blood.” Then he thought about it. “And the red hairs with grey roots are not the possible vic’s.”
Don't Read After Dark: Keep the lights on while reading these! (A McCray Horror Collection) Page 3