by James Bee
Mac was standing in the open doorway. Or at least his body was. Looking at him, Jason wasn’t sure how much of the man was left inside. Mac’s clothes were torn, mainly around his stomach. His hair was a mess, tufts sticking out at all angles. Small streams of blood matted parts of it, flowing freely down his neck. Scratches and other small wounds covered his forearms. Jason saw all this but barely comprehended it. His whole focus was on Mac’s face.
His eyes were open too wide, seeming both glazed and intent. Drool and dried blood ringed his mouth, which was open slightly, in neither a smile nor a frown. The skin on his face seemed tight, and as waxy as a candle.
Jason didn’t move. He couldn’t. Couldn’t tear his eyes away. Mac’s gaze had him rooted. It was if he had wandered into the path of a wild animal. If he moved, the other man would pounce on him. Desperately, Jason strained his ears for the sounds of the others. They could trap Mac in that room, there was no way out. In his right hand Mac clutched a bullhorn, and in the other was some kind of a club that he had fashioned for himself.
“Hello, Stitches,” Mac said. Jason blinked. It had been a long time since anyone had called him by that nickname.
“What the fuck are you doing, Mac?” Jason said, his voice strangled.
“Oh, you know. Surviving. Making sure no one comes in here and breaks up the party,” Mac said. Jason opened and closed his mouth twice.
“Why did you murder Billy? What did he ever do to you? He didn’t deserve to die like that,” Jason asked, risking a step backward. He could get back into the kitchen, bar the door. Put something in between him and Mac.
“Murder? Billy got his justice. The real justice, not the time-out that society punished him with,” Mac said.
“Jesus, Mac. Just put down the weapon. Put it down before more people get hurt. Before we all end up getting killed,” Jason said. The corners of Mac’s mouth turned up, just slightly.
“Don’t you worry your scarred little head about this,” Mac said, hefting his club. “This isn’t for you. Your life is not mine to take, nor is mine yours. Our ghosts have caught up to us, Stitches. Prepare to make peace with yours.” Feedback screamed from the megaphone, excruciatingly loud in the confined space. Jason flinched back, covering his ears and screwing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, Mac was gone. The hallway was empty. Where did he go? Upstairs?
Jason ran toward the stairs, desperate to find the others. Mac’s words echoed in his head, chasing him up the steps.
16
Chapter 16
Jason slowed as he came to the top of the staircase. If he wanted to ambush someone, that was where he would do it. But as he eased into the hallway, nothing happened. It was empty. The door to each bedroom was closed.
“Hello?” Jason called. What to do? Should he explore the rest of the floor or keep going and head upstairs? If only I knew where Mac went. A sound floated down the hallway at him, barely more than a whisper. It was enough. Jason began to walk, as quietly as he could. Each moment, he expected one of the bedrooms to open and Mac to leap out at him. I could go in mine, use the bed to bar the door. I’d be safe. Jason shook his head. He had to see what happened to the others, he couldn’t abandon Hank. Had to make sure he was okay.
Jason made it to a corner, peeked his head around, and nearly sagged into the wall with relief. Hank, Juni, and Robbie were at the end of the hallway, clustered around a door. They were all staring at in intently, so much so that they didn’t hear him approach until he was near. They spun around, hands up and ready to fight.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jason. Nearly stopped my heart,” Hank said.
“What happened to you? Why didn’t you follow?” Robbie said.
“Was going to, but Mac got in the way. He was hiding downstairs, waiting for us to leave,” Jason said.
“What?” Robbie said. The three other men looked at each other, confusion and fear written all over their faces. Jason noticed that each moved slightly away from the others.
“Yeah, he was downstairs. Where’s Stu?” Jason asked.
“In there,” Hank said.
“With Mac,” Robbie added. “Well, at least we thought he was.”
“What?” Jason asked, confused. “How could he be in there? Mac would have had to run past all of you. How long has the door been shut?”
“Came upstairs and we couldn’t see Stu. Decided to split up and check the rooms. Saw Stu in here, so we closed the door and held it,” Juni said. The young man was biting his lip and staring hard at Hank and Robbie. He’s suspicious, Jason realized. Suspicious of what?
“No way he could be in there then. No way. There isn’t another way into that room, and Mac was still with me when you closed it,” Jason said.
“Did he say anything? Did you talk to him at all?” Robbie asked.
“He said some stuff. Nothing that made too much sense. He’s cracked. Fucking gone, nothing going on upstairs. Got the megaphone and made himself some kind of a club,” Jason answered. He didn’t want to repeat what Mac had said about their ghosts. Everyone looked spooked enough as it was.
“Shit. Guess we better open this door then,” Hank said. What’s behind there? Why would they leave Stu in with Mac? Trepidation was building inside of Jason. He knew what he was going to see behind the door. He just hoped that he was wrong.
“Yup. Guess so,” Robbie agreed. Still, none of them moved. No one wanted to open the door.
“Stand back,” Jason said as he stepped forward and grabbed the knob. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, he counted to five. As he did, he noticed that all three men backed away slowly, even Hank. Jason pulled the door open. Shit.
It was an unused bedroom, completely empty. Bare. Except for the corpse lying face-down in the center of the room. Stu was sprawled out, one arm reaching forward. His cleaver was gone from his hand.
It was buried in the back of his head.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jason breathed. If Mac was downstairs with me … then who did this? The same thought seemed to be going through the minds of the other three as well. Hank, Juni, and Robbie had all backed away from each other.
“Who killed Stu? Can’t have been Mac or Jason. It was one of you two. Why?” Juni asked. His hands were clenched and he was holding them up.
“Neither of us did this, Juni. There must be some other explanation,” Hank said. “Maybe someone else is in here.”
“Who? How? The building is locked down. The police have us surrounded. No. It had to be one of you. Stu sure as shit didn’t trip and stick that cleaver in the back of his own head.” Juni’s voice was growing louder and more shrill.
“Maybe you did him. Eh? Seem pretty quick to point the finger. Maybe it was you,” Robbie said.
Juni flinched. “I ain’t never taken anyone’s life from them. I didn’t start with Stu. Had no problems with him,” he protested.
“I’m no killer either,” Robbie said. On cue, both men turned their head to look at Hank, who held his hands up.
“Don’t either of you even fucking say it. Stu was my friend. He was a friend to everyone. I don’t think believe that any of us would have done this to him. There must be something else going on. Or it was some kind of accident,” Hank said. Accident? Jason didn’t think it was very likely. Still, it was a more pleasant alternative than thinking any of the others had killed the cook.
“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Maybe someone else is in here with us. No one saw what happened anyways. What do we do now?” Robbie asked.
“We find somewhere to hole up. Stick together, keep watch on each other,” Jason said.
“Make weapons,” Juni said.
“What?” Hank asked.
“We gotta make weapons. Someone’s doing the killing, and we don’t have nothing to fight them with,” Juni said, looking defiantly at the rest of them.
“Stu had his cleaver. Fat fuckin’ lot of good it did him,” Robbie said. Juni didn’t seem to have an answer for that. Instead he just looked sullenly a
t the ground.
“No. Juni is right. We need to be able to defend ourselves. Can’t count on the police breaking in. They won’t risk it. Not if Mac has a hostage,” Hank said.
“You think Mia is alive? Think he’s holding her somewhere in here?” Jason asked. The thought that she could have been nearby all this time, just waiting for someone to rescue her, was too painful to think about. Hank and Juni are right. If I had a weapon, I could have stopped Mac. Taken him and found out the truth.
“Okay then. Let’s make some weapons. Though I’d love to know how we’re going to do that in here. Police went over the whole place and took everything that looked dangerous,” Robbie said. Hank looked at Jason, and the two shared a knowing smile.
“Well, we’re in luck today. We have a resident expert on the subject with us. Jase ran quite a business on the inside making people things for their own protection,” Hank said. Jason may have been smiling, but he didn’t feel it. I was supposed to be done with all of this. No more fighting. No more making and hiding weapons. This is just like another prison riot.
“True enough. I figure we can make some stuff that’ll do damage. Here’s what I’ll need…”
#
“All right, this is all of it,” Robbie said, spilling the contents of the sack on the kitchen table. To most people the collection of items would have looked random, mundane. Socks, a couple of tooth brushes, locks, tape, a door handle, a comb, some cloth, razor blades, a few nails that they pulled from the walls. Jason just saw danger and violence. He’d done a lot more with less than this. From these he could give them enough to do a whole lot of damage. The question was did he want to? Could he be arming the very person that had been doing all the killing? Was he putting a deadly weapon in the hands of the next person that was going to lose their mind? Doesn’t matter, though, does it? If I can’t trust them, who can I trust?
“All right. Let’s get this done with,” Jason muttered as the others huddled around him to watch. He grabbed the toothbrush and a razor blade. Taking care not to cut himself, he shaved down the handle, over and over, until it was curved to a wicked point. Taking the other toothbrush, he did the same.
“Juni, you take this,” he said, handing the two shivs to the younger man. Juni opened his mouth to protest but closed it again at the look Jason gave him. A look he’d mastered over his years working as a bootleg weaponsmith. The young ones always want the fanciest toys. Poke a man full of holes and he’ll die quick enough.
Right, what next? Jason pulled the comb toward him. It was a big, heavy thing, probably made for brushing a dog or some other animal. This was good; it wouldn’t fall apart on first contact. Laying the comb flat on the table, he arranged the blades along the teeth so that their edges stuck out, but only a bit. Two layers of duct tape secured the shiny metal, and it was done.
“Here, Robbie. Be careful with that,” Jason said, handing over the weapon.
“Thanks, Jase.”
“You want the sock or the duster?” Jason said, looking at Hank.
“I’ll take the sock. I know what you can do with the duster,” Hank replied. Jason nodded wordlessly. This was the easy one. He grabbed the sock. It was a tube sock, long and thick. Holding the neck open, he dropped the three locks into it. Another strip of duct tape sealed the opening, and it was ready. A simple weapon but one that could do serious damage in capable hands. And Hank had capable hands.
“Been a while since I held one of these,” Hank said, frowning down at his hands. “Didn’t miss it either.”
“I know how you feel,” Jason said. He took the nails and wrapped them up in the cloth; they would provide the handle. The cloth attached to the door handle at both sides. It was an old brass piece, smooth and curved in the right direction. More duct tape, and the knuckle duster was ready. Jason slipped it over his hand. It fit snugly, which was good. The cold metal lying across his knuckles felt familiar; felt good. Bit by bit, he could feel the old Jason returning. A thrill of excitement flashed through him. He remembered how it felt like to hit someone with one of these on, remembered how it made him feel. How it made him feel good.
“Guess we’re ready for anything,” Robbie said, taking a few practice swings with the comb. Not the first time he’s held something like that, Jason thought, suspicion prickling his scalp.
“Yeah, even the fuckin’ police better watch out now,” Juni said. He looked pale, queasy.
“Let’s not worry about them right now. Let’s just get a handle on what’s going on inside Oakview first, then we’ll worry about taking on the whole VPD,” Hank said.
On cue, the words boomed through the walls.
17
Chapter 17
“ATTENTION INMATES OF OAKVIEW.” Finally, the police are going to say something. “THIS IS THE VANCOUVER POLICE DEPARTMENT. YOU ARE TO RELEASE THE HOSTAGE TO US, NOW. ANY DELAY IN DOING SO WILL BE TAKEN AS AN ACT OF DEFIANCE. IF THERE ARE ANY WITHIN WHO ARE NOT SUPPORTING THESE ACTIONS, STAY HIDDEN AND DO NOT TRY TO FORCE YOUR WAY OUT. ANYONE SEEN LEAVING WILL BE TAKEN AS A HOSTILE. IF THESE DEMANDS ARE NOT MET, WE WILL BE TAKING MEASURES. YOU HAVE ONE HOUR.” As the echoes died away, the four men looked at each other helplessly. They were to stay inside with at least one murderer and sit on their hands and do nothing? It was a death sentence. And what would happen once the police broke in and started shooting? Would they discriminate between them and Mac? Jason wasn’t so sure.
“What the fu—” Robbie’s curse was cut short by an answering loudspeaker from within the building.
“ATTENTION VPD. THIS IS THE INMATES OF OAKVIEW SPEAKING. FUCK OFF, PLEASE! WE ARE UNITED IN OUR DEFIANCE. THE FIRST OFFICER THAT STEPS INSIDE OF OUR WALLS WILL BRING ABOUT THE DEATH OF OUR HOSTAGE. EVERYONE WHO FOLLOWS WILL MEET A SIMILAR FATE. WE WILL RESIST YOU TO THE END.”
“Goddamnit. I’m going to shove that horn so far up his ass that they’ll be able to hear him fart in Toronto,” Hank growled. He began to pace back and forth, clutching his lock-filled sock.
“They’re going to think we’re in on it. How could they not? We don’t exactly have the whole innocent until proven guilty thing on our side any more. We’ve all been proven guilty, many times. Why should they think this one is any different?” Robbie said.
“We have to get out. I can’t stay in here,” Juni said, his eyes wide. “They can’t mean it. No way they’ll shoot us if we try to leave. No way. That’s murder.”
“They can and they will. We don’t know what’s going on out there. They have no choice but to take Mac’s threat serious. I mean, think about it, if it comes between your life and hers, who are they going to pick? We can’t risk it Juni, we can’t. We’ll just stay in here until the police start their raid, and we’ll just put our hands on the walls and wait for them,” Jason said. He may as well have kept his calming words to himself for all the effect they had.
“No way, man. No way. We’ll be dead before that happens. First Mia, then Billy, and now Stu. How long until it’s one of us on the floor? I don’t want to wait around to find out. I’m not going to die here, I don’t deserve it. I never killed no one. I didn’t. I don’t belong here,” Juni said, the words coming faster and faster.
“Settle down, man. Get a fucking grip. If you lose your nerve now, you will die in here,” Hank said. “Jason’s right. Stay put, stick together. That’s the way we’ll get through this. The police have every reason to suspect us. Every damn reason. There’s two corpses in this building at least. One of which, the killer is unknown. Mac didn’t kill Stu. There will have to be an accounting for that. We can’t do anything that’ll make us look worse.”
“You’re right, old man. I say we figure this out now. Which one of you put Stu’s cleaver in his head?” Juni said. “Can’t have been Jason, and I never saw Mac up there. So which one of you did it?”
“Neither of us killed Stu, dammit. This is not the time to start turning on each other,” Hank snarled.
“Someone fuckin’ killed him!” Juni yelled back.
“No one saw what happened to Stu, and everyone here says they didn’t do it. We’ve got no way of figuring out the truth of it, so everyone stop throwing the blame around,” Jason said.
“If it wasn’t us and it wasn’t Mac, then someone else is in here,” Hank said.
“Who would be stupid enough to break into Oakview, and why would they go around killing us?” Robbie asked.
“How should I know? Maybe it was the family of the guy Stu killed. Maybe they didn’t forgive him as much as they said they did?” Hank said. He’s grasping, Jason realized. He wants to find somewhere to shift blame. But why?
“Would be one hell of a coincidence to do that now. Why would they attack Billy or Mia?” Jason said.
“Mac did both of them. Didn’t he?” Juni asked, confusion screwing up his face.
“I’m not sure he did,” Jason said, thinking about Mac’s words. This isn’t for you. Your life is not mine to take, nor is mine yours. Our ghosts have caught up to us.
“Well, maybe we should find him and get some answers. Take that damn horn away before he gets us all killed,” Robbie said. Jason nodded. Now that they had weapons, they didn’t need to be as scared. Still, if they found Mac and ended up killing him, his hopes for a new life would be gone. He’d go straight back to being a murderer. Might not go back to jail, but that’s what he would be. Maybe it was all he could be; there was no ability to change inside.