What Goes Around

by Rollins, Jack

  He wasn’t ready to go down either of those paths though. He wasn’t done having fun.

  ***

  As a child, Matt had been different from all the other kids he’d known. He’d taken great pleasure from getting into fights and causing other children pain. As a young boy, he hit, bit, or kicked the others hard enough to make them cry, and he’d laughed as he was dragged to the principal’s office.

  Matt had also been different in another way: his parents were fucking loaded. His dad was a civil attorney for a large corporation in Dallas and his mom was an OB/GYN at Parkland Hospital. Not only had Matt wanted for nothing, his parents had rarely been home before he went to bed, which had given him all kinds of free time to get into trouble.

  Torturing the neighborhood animals that roamed the streets – animals that were safe until Matt became bored – had been one of his favorite pastimes. His favorite animals to torture had been cats, and he’d always tried to come up with new, inventive ways to make their lives a living hell before killing them. At first, he’d tried the usual – sticking firecrackers up their asses and setting them on fire – but those had become boring. What he’d really loved was skinning them with the pocket knife he always carried.

  Before skinning one particular friendly black cat with golden eyes he couldn’t help but admire, Matt had slit its throat then completely cut off its head, taking care to remove each eyeball, keeping both intact as a sort of trophy. As he’d completed these tasks, he’d imagined doing the same to people. Later that night, he’d taken the cat parts home and hid them in his room, and after his parents went to bed, he’d masturbated onto the cat’s fur.

  As he’d grown older and stronger, he became the bully everyone feared, and his desire to commit heinous acts likewise grew. He never gave a fuck about what others thought of him. By the time he was sixteen he was permanently kicked out of school and would have ended up in jail if not for his parents’ intervention. A year later, in 2001, he left home; he’d had more than enough money to live comfortably out on the road thanks to the savings account his parents had started for him when he was born, and he’d been determined to make his dream of becoming a serial killer a reality.

  He’d set out on the highway from Dallas, not knowing or caring where he’d end up.

  His first kill had been an easy one, all things considered. When he left town, he’d headed out west on I-20 from Dallas, and a few hours into his trip he’d come across a female hitchhiker. Although she was a little on the chubby side, she’d still caught his attention with her long tanned legs and nice, round ass. He’d stopped in front of her and she’d run to catch up. She’d climbed into his car after seeing his handsome face and chiseled body, and it wasn’t long before he had raped, killed, and dumped her body alongside some trees by the road. As is the case with many serial killers, Matt wanted a souvenir but had been undecided as to what to take. He’d removed all her belongings and before he left her, he’d remembered the thrill of removing the cat’s eyes. So, using his pocket knife, he’d removed one of the girl’s dark brown eyeballs. He hadn’t had a chance to figure out what to do with it so he’d popped it into a large water bottle and laughed as it bobbed around in the clear liquid.

  In 15 years on the road, Matt had killed 18 people throughout Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California. Not once had he felt remorse for his actions. He always took one eyeball from his victims and was never choosy when it came to selecting those to kill. Male or female, it didn’t matter. Police and the FBI couldn’t place him at any of the murders because he was always careful to wear gloves and a condom, leaving little in the way of DNA or evidence to link him to the crimes. And even if they could they’d have a hard time finding him. Matt never stopped long enough for anyone to catch up with him.

  Eventually Matt had found himself on Route 66, the 2,400-mile-long stretch of highway that runs from Illinois to California and has plenty of dead spots with very little traffic. Seeing a hitchhiker along this length of road always gave Matt a thrill, and as long as he didn’t already have a victim in the car with him, he picked up anyone he saw. During this time of year it got so hot, almost everyone took him up on his offer of a free ride in an air-conditioned vehicle.

  Today would be no exception.

  ***

  Right after he passed yet another Indian reservation in New Mexico, Matt came across a man walking down the side of the highway. Even from a distance, Matt could see the man was tall, standing well over six feet, yet he was very thin. He took slow, lumbering steps as though he was tired or beaten down by life.

  Matt slowed a few feet in front of the man, then stopped and got out of his car, sizing up his next victim. Not quite as thin as he’d appeared from the distance, but Matt still felt he would be an easy kill.

  “Hey, where you headed?” Matt asked the stranger.

  “California. You going that far?”

  Matt had no intention of taking the guy all the way to California. “Yep. Want a lift?”

  The man didn’t think twice about accepting the offer. The road was deserted and the temperature was quickly climbing under the midday sun. “That’d be awesome, man, thanks. Name’s Justin.” Justin held out his hand and Matt took it as he introduced himself.

  The two walked back to Matt’s car and got inside. As Matt started the engine and turned on the air conditioner, he glanced at his passenger. “Hungry? There’s some beef jerky around here somewhere, and you look like you could use something to eat.”

  Justin replied without looking at Matt. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

  Without another word, Matt pulled the car onto the highway and they headed west toward California. The pair sat in silence except for the Eagles Greatest Hits blasting through the car’s speakers. After a couple of hours, it was time for a pit stop; the fuel gauge was getting low and both men needed a bathroom break.

  Pulling into a truck stop, Matt was first out of the car.

  “I think I’m gonna take a quick shower and shave. You good?”

  “Yeah, I’m heading in to get something to eat. Want anything? My treat.”

  “Nothing, man. I’ve got beef jerky. We need to get back on the road so let’s make this fast. I prefer traveling during the night when it’s cooler. Let me grab a shower and fill up, then we’ll head out.”

  Matt grabbed the gym bag containing his clothes and toiletries from the back and headed into the store before Justin got out of the car. The last thing they needed was to be seen together, not with what Matt had in mind.

  After Matt walked into the store, Justin began snooping. Nothing caught his interest in the glove compartment, so he started looking under the seats. He pulled out a large water bottle, intending to dig around behind it, but as he pushed it out of the way he noticed what was inside. Eyeballs. Eighteen various colored ones in different stages of decomposition. Justin removed the cap and sniffed the liquid. Formaldehyde. After taking another moment to admire its contents, he replaced the lid and put it back where he’d found it.

  Where most people would have run or called the police, Justin simply smiled.

  ***

  Justin got out of the car and walked into the store to use the bathroom while Matt filled the gas tank. The two were back on the road within 20 minutes, Matt freshly showered and shaved and Justin highly amused by his discovery. Justin knew exactly what Matt had in mind for him, but Matt had no idea he had picked up the wrong passenger.

  After a few minutes, Justin asked, “So, why are you heading to California? Business or pleasure?”

  “A little of both, I guess. I take care of business on the way to wherever I’m heading. You?”

  “I’m currently unemployed, but hoping to find work in Cali.”

  Matt smiled to himself as he thought about how Justin wouldn’t live to see California. He took his eyes off the road and glanced at Justin, who was staring at him. Justin’s eyes were a bright blue, which made Matt happy: he only had two blue eyes in his collection. The two lo
oked at each other for a moment before Matt reached over and turned on the CD player. Popping out the Eagles CD, he put in AC/DC’s Back in Black and cranked it up.

  As Angus Young belted out Hell’s Bells, Justin thought about his life. Here he was, a forty-year-old man who killed people for fun. He hadn’t made a kill in weeks and the more time that passed, the stronger his bloodlust grew. Ever since he was a boy, he had loved learning about the human body and studying various ways to cause pain. He was fond of all kinds of extreme horror and would fantasize about the limits a person’s body could endure. Once he’d started killing, he knew he could run almost any experiment he could think of and, as long as he was careful, he could live out his fantasies indefinitely. Justin knew he’d go out in a blaze of glory before he ever spent time in a jail cell. His studies of death meant he knew what happened to a person when they died, and the prospect of death had never frightened him.

  Justin had the advantage in the car that day. He knew who Matt was thanks to the bottle of eyeballs, but Matt had no idea what he was up against. Justin knew, despite being a few inches taller than Matt, he’d be outmatched in a fistfight, but he still felt like he had the upper hand.

  Once the sun set, Matt pulled the car over to the side of the road.

  “Need to take a leak,” he said as he climbed out.

  Justin suspected Matt had no intention of ‘taking a leak.’

  Matt walked around the back of the El Camino and Justin kept his eye on him using the passenger mirror. In his mind, this was where the fun would begin.

  As Matt reached the passenger side, he was surprised when Justin flung open the door and hopped out. Justin withdrew a long, serrated knife from its sheath tucked into the back of his jeans, and in one swift motion brought it forward, slashing Matt’s chest, instantly drawing blood.

  Angered, Matt rushed forward, knocked Justin’s arm to the side, and tackled him to the ground. The two wrestled, and each found his opponent to be tougher than he’d thought. Punches were thrown and Matt kicked Justin so hard in the ribs he was sure he broke a few. Justin scrambled around trying to find his knife, but on a cloudy night, the blade refused to reveal its location.

  Bloody and bruised, Justin finally spoke, gasping for breath between every word. “Shit… man. Eyeballs… really?”

  Matt stopped and stared at the other man, taking a moment to catch his own breath. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I found the bottle in your car… with the formaldehyde… you’re the one who’s all over the news! I was hoping I’d run into you, but never thought I’d get lucky enough to actually meet you.”

  The last statement shocked Matt and he quickly stood up. “Meet me? What?”

  “Dude, you’re a fucking legend! At least as far as I’m concerned, anyway. The way you remove those eyes from your victims and never leave a trace of DNA or other evidence is brilliant. I just open them up – “

  “You… are you kidding me?” Matt interrupted.

  “Nah, man. I do the same thing you do, only I don’t keep the parts…I’m the one they call The Carver. Maybe you’ve heard of me.”

  Matt was still in shock. “So, why the hell would you want to meet?”

  Justin smiled a wild grin – not that Matt could see it. “Because I wanna fucking kill you.”

  That statement made the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck stand at attention. Justin tried to get up but Matt reached out and pushed him back down. “Not if I kill you first.”

  Justin tried again to get to his feet. “Whoa, hold on. Let’s make a bet.”

  “A bet?”

  “Yeah, a bet. Look, we both get off on killing people, right? What about this: we both find a victim and we take him or her – “

  “Definitely a her.”

  Justin sighed at the interruption. “Fine, her. We both find a victim and take her to a hotel room. We torture and kill her and the one who kills his victim last, makes her suffer the most, wins. Torture has to be part of the plan and we have to have a good time with this. If your victim dies last, you get to kill me. If mine dies last, I get to kill you. We can both use the same methods we’ve used all along or mix things up a little. What do you say? Are you afraid I’m better than you?”

  “How the fuck am I supposed to know what methods you use? I’ve never heard of you. The only killer I’ve heard about is the guy who– “

  “Serves up his victim’s hearts on a plate? That’s me.”

  “Fuck. You still carve pictures and shit into their bodies?”

  Matt couldn’t see him smile, but he heard it in his voice. “Yep.”

  “You’re on the news almost as much as I am, but they haven’t seen you around here before. How do you…”

  “Take me up on my offer and find out. My tools are in my backpack and I’m ready to go. There’s a truck stop about 50 miles up the road. We can find someone to play with there. You in?”

  Matt considered the offer and was confident enough in his abilities to know there was no way he could lose. He was making the news and this other guy wasn’t – at least, not as often – which meant he was the better killer. Justin did have nice eyes to add to his collection as well. “Fine, let’s do it. How will we know we won’t kill each other in our sleep though?”

  Justin smiled. “We don’t.”

  “Fair enough. This should be a fun little game, and I can’t wait to add one of your pretty blue eyeballs to my collection.”

  With a laugh, Justin said, “I guess I’ll just have to win and see if your heart is red like everyone else’s. Or is it black?”

  Matt walked around the driver’s side and opened the door. “Get your ass in the car before I leave you here. We have women to find.”

  Justin got up, wincing at the pain in his ribs, and opened the car door. He quickly took inventory of his injuries. Other than a sore fist that had repeatedly connected with Matt’s face, his ribs were the only thing that hurt. He gingerly climbed in the car and shut the door.

  Matt started the engine, and soon the serial killers were shifting down Route 66.

  ***

  Forty minutes after making their bet, Matt and Justin pulled into the Route 66 Travel Center, a large, brightly lit truck stop right off the highway. Matt rolled up to the pumps and looked at himself in the rear-view mirror, making sure he didn’t look too beat up after the brawl. He changed his bloody shirt as Justin got out of the car and walked inside the store to pay for the gas. To stay off the radar, neither man used credit or debit cards and always paid in cash.

  Matt filled the tank and walked into the store to buy something to eat. As he entered, he noticed Justin talking to a short blonde with large breasts and tanned legs by the soda coolers. Matt walked past and stared at the couple, worried that Justin had found his victim before he had even begun searching. He picked up a bag of chips and a bottle of Coke and made his way to the counter to pay. Standing in line and looking around the store, he noticed Justin and the girl had gone, but as he waited he noticed one of the cashiers was staring at him. She was tall and thin, with short black hair and several piercings in her ears and on her face, and must have been in her early to mid-twenties. He took a chance and smiled at her, and she smiled back before looking away.

  He was next in line and placed his items on the counter. The girl blushed when he smiled at her again. After he paid, she wrote something on his receipt before handing it to him. He waited until he left the store before he looked at it. “Off in 5” was all it said. Matt smiled as he walked back to the car, but as he approached it, he saw Justin and the blonde standing by the back of the El Camino, laughing. Matt had to give him credit: the dude worked fast.

  He walked around to them. “What’s so funny?”

  Justin was still smiling. “Matt, this is Becky. Becky, my buddy Matt. Becky and I are just getting to know each other.”

  Becky smiled as Matt shook her hand, but neither said anything. Matt sneaked a glance at her boobs before turning around and fa
cing the store, looking for the cashier. After a couple of minutes, she came out the door and stood looking around the parking lot. Matt walked up to her and smiled his best disarming smile.

  “Hi, I’m Matt.”

  She smiled back, seemingly finding the confidence she had lacked inside. “Alex,” she said.

  Matt couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked when she smiled. “Alex, short for…”

  “Alexandra,” she said. “I’ve always hated my name, but I can live with the shortened version.”

  “We’re headed over to the… what’s it called? Route 66 Casino, I think. I’ve heard there’s a nightclub in there and I want to see how you guys party. Up for it? We can get to know each other a little better.”

  Alex hesitated before speaking. “Yeah, I’m up for it. I can even show you where it is. Where’s your car?”

  Matt turned and pointed to his El Camino. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

  They walked over to the car where greetings took place. When it was time to head to the hotel, Justin and Becky sat in the back. It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination, thanks to Alex’s directions.

  They entered the hotel lobby and Matt walked over to the front desk, leaving Justin with the girls. When he returned a few minutes later, he gave Justin an almost imperceptible nod and said, “You guys ready to have some fun?”

  They walked into the nightclub where Matt kept the drinks flowing all night long. He told the girls to get whatever they wanted, and they took advantage of his generosity by ordering the strongest, most expensive drinks on the menu. Justin and Matt held back and only had two beers each, and they waited and watched as the girls quickly got drunk. Alex took frequent trips to the bathroom, looking sicker each time, and Becky seemed as though she couldn’t stay awake. When the girls were close to passing out, each man grabbed hold of his and made their way out of the club.