Last Chances Die Softly

by James Bee

  “No. We need to find a way to get out. Figure out how to get the police to help us,” Juni said.

  Hank gave a sharp laugh. “The police been overly helpful to you in the past, eh? The only thing they’ll give you right now is a bullet to the head. We need to find Mac, figure out what happened to Mia. Robbie’s right. The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll be for us at the end.”

  “The worse it’ll be? Bud, what do you think is going to happen once the police break in here? We look as guilty as Mac does right now. We’re hosed, fer sure. The best we can hope for right now it to make it through this alive and go back to jail,” Robbie said.

  “Fuck, man. I don’t want to die in here,” Juni said, wrapping his arms around himself.

  “No one else is going to die. No one,” Jason said. The weight hanging off his knuckles was making him feel more confident, less afraid. The years that he’d spent trying to rehabilitate himself were sloughing off, shedding like skin. The old Jason was coming back, like the receding of a tide.

  “No one except for Mac,” Hank said, his face dark. The old convict was regressing too, just like Jason. Turning back into his past self, the one that was used to violence, the one who had snuffed out a life.

  18

  Chapter 18

  Jason didn’t know how long they sat in the kitchen, waiting and listening. Could have been hours; it certainly felt like it. Each little bang and scrape from outside made them all flinch and jump, waiting for the moment when Mac would burst through the door or the police would breach Oakview. They sat and waited. The tension rose and rose until it was nearly unbearable. All of them were in a race. A race to see who would break first. Who the strain would snap like a dry twig.

  Juni broke first. “I can’t take this any more. I gotta get out of this fuckin’ place,” he said, his voice brittle yet calm. “You guys can come with me, or you can stay here and die.” He stood up and walked over to a drawer, pulling it open.

  “Sit back down, Juni. Just sit down. You can’t go out there. You heard what Mac said. You step through that door and they’ll shoot you,” Hank said.

  “No way. That’s murder. They can’t do that. They can’t,” Juni yelled as he frantically searched through the drawers.

  “You willing to risk your life? We have a good chance in here if we stick together. Start splitting up and we’ll get picked off one by one,” Jason said.

  “Not if the killer is in this room. I’d rather take my chance out there,” Juni said. He had found what he was looking for. Pulling out a piece of paper and a large marker, he began to write something.

  “Don’t do anything rash, Juni. Just take a second and think,” Robbie said.

  “Think? What have I been doing this whole time? Just sitting here and thinking. I’ve thought enough. I’m leaving. You all should come with me. We can walk out together,” Juni said. He’d finished whatever he was writing and turned to the door, clutching the paper in his hands.

  “No way, man. No way in hell,” Robbie said.

  “It’s too dangerous. Staying here is safer,” Hank said. Juni looked at Jason. He just shook his head. The others are right. I’m not putting my life in the hands of a cop, never again. Juni snorted in disgust and strode toward the door. Hank stepped in his way.

  “Move, old man,” Juni snarled.

  Hank didn’t budge. “I’m not going to let you throw your life away. Sit back down.”

  “You gonna stop me, are you? Why? So you can kill me later? Won’t say it again, move,” Juni said, raising his two shivs. Jason could feel the tension in the room begin to reach the breaking point.

  “Just let him go,” Robbie said. Hank still didn’t move. He was clutching the sock in his hand, ready to swing it at any point. Jason knew he should do something, intervene in some way.

  “Jason?” Hank said, not taking his eyes off the young man in front of him.

  “Let him go. It’s his choice to make. We can’t make it for him. Too much is at stake,” Jason said. Hank’s jaw clenched at his words, but he stepped aside.

  “Good luck, Juni. If you make it through, tell them what’s happening in here,” Hank said.

  “I will, I promise. Just try to stay alive. And keep an eye on each other,” Juni said. He took a deep breath and slipped his weapons into his pockets. Instead he raised the sheet of paper in front of his chest, like a shield. Without another word he opened the door and strode out of the kitchen. The door banged shut behind him. Jason listened to his footsteps as they got quieter and quieter. Five heartbeats went by, then ten. Slowly, Jason breathed. He would be at the door by now and walking through it. They wouldn’t shoot him after all. Maybe they should all go out too, call Mac’s bluff. How likely was it that Mia was still alive? Not very. They should just leave the kitchen and walk through the front door. Juni was right.

  CRACK.

  The sound of the gunshot echoed through the house. In the following silence the three men looked at each other for a moment, each too stunned to move.

  “NO!” Hank yelled, running toward the door, Robbie and Jason following at his heels. If they got there quick enough, maybe they could save him. Maybe it was just a warning shot. Maybe they didn’t shoot him, Jason thought desperately as they raced toward the front door. His hopes died as they turned the corner.

  Juni was sprawled face-down, just outside the open doorway. A trail of blood led away from his body and outside. One of his arms was outstretched, reaching toward them. Lying just in front of his hand was the paper. His only defence. Numb, Jason walked toward the corpse.

  “Careful! They might put one in you too, Jase,” Hank yelled. Jason shook his head. They were inside. As long as they stayed inside, they were safe. Jason walked over and picked up the paper. Flecks of blood stained the whiteness, but the message was still legible.

  I never killed no one.

  Don’t shoot.

  I need to get out.

  Jason crumpled the page and flung it away. “FUCKING BASTARDS!” he yelled, his voice echoing off of the walls.

  “They killed him. They shot him,” Robbie said, his voice soft with disbelief.

  “I told him. I told him this would happen, but you two told me to let him go. Goddamnit, we could have grabbed him, tied him up. We could have saved him. Only we can help each other! The cops aren’t going to save us. They’d rather put a bullet in us and be done with it,” Hank said.

  “Let them come,” Jason rumbled, staring at the open door. He wanted the police to come through it, to get close enough for him to use his fists. The old rage had taken him now. The fire grew hotter every time he looked at Juni’s face. His glazed eyes stared up at him, accusing him. Hank is right. I could have done something.

  “Are you crazy, Jase? They’ll slaughter us,” Robbie said, his panic starting to enter his voice. “What the fuck are we going to do? They shot him man, they just shot him. What was he in here for? Stealing? Just stealing, and they shot him. What are they going to do with the rest of us?”

  “What do you want to do, Jase?” Hank said. He was slowly swinging the lock-filled sock back and forth.

  “We’re going to hunt Mac down. Figure out if Mia is still alive, or if he has anyone else hostage. If he does, we’re going to free them and send them out. They can talk to the police for us,” Jason said.

  “What if there’s no hostage?” Robbie asked.

  Jason clutched the makeshift handle of his weapon so hard that the nails began to dig into his skin. “If not, they we send Mac out. Whatever’s left of him. Send him out and pray for mercy.”

  19

  Chapter 19

  “How are we going to find him? This place is huge. Must be dozens of rooms big enough to hide someone,” Robbie said. He’d retrieved one of Juni’s shivs and held it in one hand, the blade-studded comb in the other.

  “Lots of rooms but only one staircase.” Jason said. “We go room by room, floor by floor until we flush him out.” The two other men nodded, though neither
looked too happy about the prospect of hunting and cornering a convicted murderer. Jason didn’t share their apprehension. He’d seen Mac. Stared into his eyes. The man was nearly gone, his mind cracked. Jason, on the other hand, felt calm, collected. What’s more, he felt strong. Stronger than he had in years, decades maybe. Strong as the day it had happened. The day his life had changed forever. Only that time he didn’t even have much of a reason, too much booze and too little self-control. Now he had a reason. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the bodies. Stu, Billy, and Juni. Mac had brought about their deaths in one way or another. And if he hadn’t been responsible for Stu, then Jason would find out who was.

  “Right. Good plan. What kind of a weapon did you say he had again?” Robbie asked, his voice cracking a bit.

  “If we find him, just stand behind me and Hank. Your hands are still clean. No need to get any blood on them today,” Jason said. Taking the lead, he walked over to a nearby door and kicked it open. Inside was a meeting room, like most of the others on the floor, wide open and empty. Grunting, he went to another and did the same. And another.

  “Jase,” Hank said, pausing him.

  “What?”

  “All of us know where he’s hiding. Would bet anything it’s not on this floor. Or the second either.” Jason pursed his lips. He knew that his friend was probably right.

  “You in a hurry to go up there? Better to make sure. Be smart and thorough,” Jason answered.

  “We don’t know how long we got, though. Police could come in, guns blazing at any moment,” Hank said.

  Jason shook his head. “Doubt it. Why’d they shoot Juni? They don’t know what to do. If they come in, Mac’ll kill the hostage. If he has one. That’s too big of a risk to take. I’d be we have some time before they decide what to do. This whole thing is getting out of hand. Too many bodies are piling up. They won’t do anything rash, not yet.”

  “You don’t know that,” Robbie said.

  “No. No, I don’t. But I’m also not in too much of a hurry to go up there. Figure we work our way up,” Jason said.

  “Fine. Fine. I don’t want spend any time on the third floor either. We’ll go room by room then. Just be careful, Mac could be hiding behind any door. Waiting for us. I’ve seen too many friends die today. Don’t want to see any more,” Hank said. Jason and Robbie both nodded, and they spread out. As they searched, Jason thought back to the prison riots he’d been in. That he’d survived. There’d been three, all of which he had been sure he wouldn’t make it out of. A man like him made too many enemies, collected grudges like trading cards. Knock a man down in front of everyone and you plant a seed of hate inside of him. A riot was the perfect place to settle the score. A shiv to the ribs, hit them with something heavy on the head, and that would be that. He’d only made it out by staying alive until the situation changed for the better. Until the correction officers came running in with their riot gear and started pummeling everyone into submission. That’s what they had to do, just survive until the situation changed. Unless, of course, it changed for the worse.

  #

  “What did I tell you? This whole floor is clear. No one but us here,” Hank said after they checked the last room.

  “Alright. Time to go up one more,” Jason said, frowning. Much of his conviction had leaked away, uncertainly filling the gap. As they walked up the stairs, unease grew. With it came the faintest hints of whispers, just out of earshot. It was if someone was trying to speak to him, but he just couldn’t make out the words. Jason shook his head. Can’t lose it now. Can’t go crazy like Stu did. Looking sideways at Hank, he saw that his friend’s face was screwed up in concentration.

  “You guys hear anything?” Jason said.

  “Huh? Can’t hear shit. Wish there was some noise or something. All this silence is starting to freak me out,” Robbie said. Hank didn’t reply. Instead he also shook his head, trying to shake something lose.

  “Never mind then,” Jason said as they stepped out into the hallway. He’d lived in the house for months, spent most of his time inside, yet something felt different, changed. The carpet looked odd, the doors foreign and forbidding. He looked at the one that led to his own room. The thought of walking through it felt wrong, as though he would be trespassing. More than that, there was a smell. A metallic odor mixed with sweetness. A smell every human being that had ever walked the face of the earth knew.

  Blood.

  “Right. Let’s get this over with,” Robbie said, pulling a nearby door open. If he was experiencing any of this, Robbie didn’t show it. The room was Juni’s. Inside was sparse, bare of anything that would have marked it as his. Jason wondered if there was anything or anyone in the world that would take notice of the young man’s passing. Any family or friends that would mourn him. I never asked. Never talked to him about his life on the outside. Just figured he was like me and Hank. Alone. Adrift with no one to anchor us in place.

  “Empty,” Robbie said, moving on to the next door, Hank’s. Where Juni’s had looked as though no one had lived in it, Hank’s showed signs of habitation. Clothes mingled on the floor with all manner of junk. Pill containers, water bottles, food wrappers. The whole floor was littered with them, so much so that you couldn’t see the carpet underneath. After so many years of forced cleanliness, Hank seemed to enjoy the chaos. Or maybe he just forgot how to clean up after himself.

  “Could be a body hidden under here, wouldn’t be able to see it,” Jason said, stepping into the room.

  “Fuck you,” Hank said absently, kicking some of the garbage around.

  “Nothing here either,” Robbie said, quickly moving to the next room. He seemed to be in a hurry, not that Jason blamed him. In fact, it seemed odd that he wasn’t also rushing, trying to get this finished as rapidly as he could. Yet he just couldn’t muster the drive, the hustle. Hank’s attitude had infected him. They weren’t going to find anything on this floor. Their quarry was one more up, the one place that they didn’t want to go. Last time they’d found Billy’s body, mangled nearly beyond recognition. What would they find this time?

  The next room was Jason’s. He knew what they would see when they opened it. Nothing much, just his small bag of clothes. Robbie pulled the door open.

  “What the fuck,” Jason said, looking inside.

  “Damn. Thought you were done with that,” Hank said. Jason could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  “I am. This isn’t mine. Someone must have put it here,” Jason said, stepping into the room and picking the bottle off of his nightstand. There was no label on it, but it was clearly alcoholic, whiskey, maybe rum.

  “No judgment here. None at all,” Robbie said. His flask was where it always was, on his hip.

  “It’s not mine!” Jason half-shouted. He’d been sober for so long, the longest stretch since from birth to his first sip. It was the one thing he had to be proud of. Who would put this here? Why? To tempt him? As a prank? Jason’s fists clenched.

  “Easy, big man. Easy,” Robbie said. “Someone probably just put it there to fuck with you.”

  “Pretty sick joke,” Hank said. “Jason’s the only one of us that’s clean.”

  “Whatever. Let’s just move on. No one’s in here,” Jason said, putting the bottle back down on the table with no small amount of reluctance. It was as if the amber liquid was calling to him; he could almost smell it, feel it going down his throat. The warmness that would spread through his body, chasing out the fear and the uncertainly. Alcohol turned some men merry, some men angry, and some sad. Jason was different. The more he drank, the less complicated he became. Each ounce stripped a layer of his mind away, until only an animal remained. Drink enough and he would fight anything that moved.

  “Right. On to your room, Robbie,’ Hank said. Jason closed his door behind them. He wanted a barrier between him and the bottle. Robbie’s room turned out to be the same as his, with very little to distinguish it as his own. It too was empty. As was Billy’s and the rest that they checked. Ye
t by some design, they had stayed away from Mac’s room. Left it to last. The three of them stood outside it, staring at the chipped and faded wood of the closed door.

  “Dammit,” Robbie breathed. No one moved. The silence and tension was holding them liked a fly in a web. Jason guessed that the other three were probably thinking the same thing as him. They could just walk away. Just leave it closed and go on with their search. The longer they stood, the more sure he was that there were sounds coming from the other side of the wood. Little noises, creeping through the cracks. Just loud enough to register but not to comprehend. If there is anything at all. I could just be losing it, like the others. Jason didn’t dare ask Hank or Robbie if they could hear anything. He couldn’t afford for them to think he was starting to crack. They’d think he was too dangerous. That they would have to do something, or else he might hurt them.

  “Let’s just open it and fuck the consequences,” Hank said, wrapping his hand around the knob. He had a pained look on his face, mouth puckered and eyes squinting. Maybe he hears them too.

  “Right,” Robbie said, falling into a half-crouch, weapons up and at the ready. Taking a deep breath, Hank pulled the door open. As the light flooded into the room, Jason wished he hadn’t. Everything was similar to the other rooms, except for the bed. More specifically, what was on the bed.

  Mia lay on top, eyes closed, skin blue. Wordlessly, the three men walked into the room. Through his shock, something wiggled its way into Jason’s brain. A thought, calling for attention. There’s no smell. Should be a smell by now. Unless she just died today.

  “There,” Robbie said, pointing to Mia’s arm. Jason stepped close and bent down to examine it.