by James Bee
“We don’t know what they’ll do. Juni might have been an accident, or they were just trying to keep the hostage alive. Once they find out there isn’t one, they might just try to take us in peacefully,” Josh continued.
“Maybe. We still don’t know for sure that Mac doesn’t have someone tied up somewhere, though. If we don’t know, then the police certainly don’t. I don’t want to put my life in their hands. Juni did, and they killed him. He was innocent, just a kid. He shouldn’t even have been here. Petty crimes and a drug addiction, that’s it. They killed him for that, for the words of a madman and the phantom of a hostage. His life was real, he was right there in front of them. Yet it didn’t count for much, did it? How much do you think they’ll value us, eh? How much?” Robbie was nearly yelling by the end.
“What choice do we have? We’re stuck in here, and they’re going to be coming in sooner or later. We can’t fight them, can’t hide, not for long. All we can do is hope,” Jason said, shrugging.
“Hope. You and Hank had hope. Hope for a better life. Where’s your hope got you now, huh? Not far.” Jason had no answer. Robbie was right. Their hopes had been torn out at the roots, withering and dying in front of his eyes. Robbie opened his mouth to say something else, but a noise stopped him. A noise that put a chill in Jason’s blood. Footsteps on the stairs.
“Shit,” Jason breathed. The steps were heavy and slow. Deliberate or maybe just lethargic.
“Get ready, man. Get ready,” Robbie said. Jason squeezed the handle of his knuckle duster. The weight gave him a little comfort, better than none. The steps got louder as they got closer. Any moment they would come into view, whoever they were. Would it be Mac or Hank? Or maybe someone else. Almost. Almost. Jason held his breath, waiting.
He breathed a sigh of relief as Hank’s head came into view. The rest of the older man followed as he stumbled into the hallway.
“Hank!” Jason said, rushing toward his friend. Hank was clutching the upper part of his left arm, a dark red spot staining his shirt.
“I’m okay. Just a little gash,” Hank said, shrugging off Jason’s hand. He walked a little ways down the hallway before putting his back on the wall before sliding down. “Bastard got the jump on me, took me at the bottom of the stairs. Could have gutted me, sliced me up like he did Billy. Instead he just gave me this cut and let me loose.”
“Why? Why didn’t he kill you?” Robbie asked, tearing a strip off of his shirt. Jason took it from him and wound it around the gash. Hank winced as he pulled it tight but didn’t complain.
“That’ll stop the bleeding, but you’ll have to get it stitched,” Jason said, wiping his hands on his pants.
“Pretty sure this’ll be the least of my problems pretty soon,” Hank said, closing his eyes.
“Where’d Mac go? He didn’t come up the stairs, unless he’s quieter than a ghost,” Robbie said.
“Fucked if I know. He sliced me and ran off. Wouldn’t be surprised if he snuck past you two. Mac used to burgle places. Liked to do it when the owners were awake, made it more exciting. He can move quiet, trust me,” Hank replied.
“Fuck. What do we do now?” Robbie asked. “The police will be here any moment. We need a plan. A way to let them know we’re innocent, so they don’t just blow us away as soon as they see us.”
“Maybe Juni had the right idea. We could try a sign or something,” Jason volunteered.
“Didn’t get him too far, though. They still plugged him,” Robbie shot back.
“Yeah, but that’s ’cause he tried to leave. Maybe that’s why they shot him, even though they knew he was innocent,” Jason argued.
“He wasn’t innocent to them. He just wasn’t guilty of this crime,” Hank said bitterly.
“Either way, Robbie’s right. We have to do something, anything. Can’t just keep sitting here and waiting to die,” Jason said.
“All right. Fine. What do you propose?” Hank asked.
“Lets go back downstairs and see what we can find. Maybe we can write a note and slip it outside or something. Better yet, maybe Mac left the loudspeaker around somewhere. If we can find it we can let the cops know what’s happening,” Jason said.
“That’s … not a bad idea, actually,” Robbie said, scratching his chin.
“Better than nothing, that’s for sure,” Hank said, reluctantly getting back to his feet.
“Okay then. Just keep your eyes open. Mac’ll be bound to try to stop us,” Jason said, staring suspiciously at the doorway. Despite his reluctance to leave the relative safety of the hallway, he felt better. They had a plan, a purpose. Hope.
23
Chapter 23
The stairs creaked as they slowly walked down them, each noise making Jason wince. He was in the lead, with Robbie and Hank behind him. He felt ready. Prepared for what was ahead of them at the bottom. Mac could be there, hiding, waiting to jump him like he’d done Hank. Or the police could choose that moment to storm Oakview. Burst through the door and start shooting. Either way, they were walking into danger. Yet he didn’t feel the fear that should have been gripping him. Instead there was only a calm wariness, the kind he usually felt when he walked onto the prison yard, heading toward a fight. Whatever came he felt ready for it, welcoming even. Even still, a small part of him felt alarmed, screaming for caution. Jason ignored it. They’d been cautious for far too long. No more hiding. Now we act.
Jason eased his head out into the hallway. The landing was deserted, or at least it looked that way. There were too many rooms, too many nooks to hide in. The voices were louder here, and this floor reeked just as bad as the second one. It was so intense that Jason was surprised that the floor wasn’t soaked in blood.
“Clear?” Hank asked, putting his hand on Jason’s back.
“Looks to be. Can’t be sure, though,” Jason answered. Moving slowly, he stepped out of the staircase. Where to start? They’d already searched all these rooms once. Why would they have any more luck now? Maybe Mac had a secret way of moving around the building. It would certainly explain how he’d managed to stay away from them for so long. Jason was about to ask the others what to do when he saw it.
A foot. Attached to a leg, the rest of the body hidden from view. The limb was jutting out of the open doorway, the one to the kitchen. Wordlessly, Jason started toward it.
“What? Do you see something?” Robbie hissed. Jason didn’t answer. His whole being was focused on seeing who was lying there. The two other men began to follow him, each growing silent as they spotted it. Jason crossed the distance quickly and peered into the kitchen.
Fucking hell. Blood soaked the tiled floor, flowing and pooling. At the center of the deluge was Mac. He was lying on his back, glazed eyes staring skyward. He was dead. Very dead, and there was little mystery as to what killed him. His stomach was spit wide open, as though someone had dug a massive chunk out of him. His entrails were across his lap, having either leaked or been pulled out.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Robbie breathed.
“What the hell,” Hank said, sounding more confused than disgusted.
“You tell us,” Robbie said, turning on the older man.
“What do you mean? You think I did this to him?”
“If not you, then who? What was it? Revenge for Mia? Jesus Christ. Did you do Stu as well? Billy? Did you chop him up too?”
Hank flinched under the accusations. “No!” he shouted. “I never killed them, and I didn’t kill Mac. It happened like I told you. He cut me and then ran off. I didn’t do this. I could never do this. You two have to believe me. I didn’t.” Hank looked at Jason, his eyes pleading. Jason, however, had only barely been listening. A thought was creeping into his head, pieces of a puzzle sliding slowly together.
“We have to go to Kenneth’s office,” he said, turning away from the gore.
“What. Why?” Robbie asked, looking at him like he’d gone crazy.
“He’ll have records in there. I have to know something,” Jason said, walking d
own the hall. Kenneth’s office was in the back of the building, as far away and secluded as possible. Anything to keep maximum distance between him and the others.
“What are you talking about, man? What could be in there that matters so much?” Robbie pressed. He and Hank were following him, of course. Neither would want to alone with the other, especially if Robbie was right. And he might be. Jason was putting off thinking about what could have happened to Mac. Hank killing him was the logical answer, at the moment the only explanation that made any sense. Yet the implications were too distressing to think about, so he didn’t.
“Answers,” Jason said shortly. If his hunch was right, it would create far more questions than answers. Questions to which he wasn’t sure there were any answers. The door to Kenneth’s office was locked, but a few kicks changed that. Inside it was a mess, papers and garbage everywhere.
“Damn. Not going to be fun looking through here,” Robbie said.
“We just need files. Billy and Mac’s. Stu’s too, if they still have it,” Jason said, stepping inside. Walking around Kenneth’s desk, he scanned it quickly. They didn’t have much time, and he had to know. For his own safety, if not sanity.
“Should be in these cabinets,” Hank said, pulling a few drawers open. “It’ll be alphabetical. Be easy to find.” His words were true. After a couple minutes of riffling, he handed the files in question over to Jason.
“Okay, man. What the fuck are we doing right now?” Robbie said. He sounded like he was on the edge, barely holding it all together. If Jason was right, he wasn’t going to get any calmer.
“Okay. So Mia, we found her with a needle in her arm, right?” Jason said, opening Billy’s file and looking through it. He had to be careful. What he was about to say was going to sound crazy. Hell, it was crazy. He didn’t need them thinking he had cracked too.
“Yeah. Overdose. Someone must have drugged her,” Robbie said.
“Exactly. She died just like her sister, right? That’s what you said. Her sister overdosed right beside her. That the guilt drove her here.” Hank nodded mutely. “Okay. Well then. Billy was here for drunk driving. We all knew that. Says here that he was going fifty over the speed limit. That the girl he hit’s body was so mangled that it was nearly unrecognizable.” Jason looked up to see two uncomprehending faces looking down at him.
“So what?” Robbie said.
“Mia died via overdose, like her sister. Billy was torn apart, and he had strange markings on him. Did you guys see it? I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Kinda looked like tire tracks.”
“He got run over three stories up?” Hank said. Jason shrugged. He pulled Stu’s file towards him and flipped it until he found what he was looking for.
“Stu served because he killed someone with his cleaver, right?”
“We already knew that,” Robbie said. “Why are we wasting our time?”
“Right, but did you know that he buried it in the back of the guy’s skull?” Jason said, his eyes glued to the passage. “So deep that it took surgery to pull the weapon free.”
“What the fuck,” Hank said.
“Everyone’s dying like they killed? Is that what you’re saying?” Robbie said, his impatience gone.
“I don’t know. Let’s see about Mac.” Jason pulled the last file over. Mac’s file. It was nearly twice was thick as the other two. Furious energy took over his hands as Jason searched through it, tossing papers aside. Finally, he came to what he was looking for. As he read it, his stomach roiled and nausea rose in his throat.
“What?” Robbie pressed. Hank stayed silent. He knows, he must. They were cellmates. Mac must have told him.
“It was a pregnant lady he killed, an ex of his. Got knocked up by another man. Mac … he … cut it out of her,” Jason said, his voice strangled.
“What a sick fuck,” Robbie said. “Guess he got what was coming to him.”
Jason turned to look his in the eyes. “Yes, he did. Don’t you two see what’s happening here?”
Robbie shook his head and looked away.
“It’s all happening to us. Our greatest crimes, the things that we’re the guiltiest about. Jesus Christ, did Mac say anything about this to you, Jase? Maybe he knew what was going on?” Hank said.
Jason hesitated. “Well. He did say one thing, but he’s crazy, you know? He was saying all sorts of shit.”
“What was it? What did he say, Jase?” Hank pressed.
“He said that our ghosts had caught up with us. That I should make peace with mine.”
“That’s it then. We’re finished, me and you. Gonna end up like the others. I don’t want to go that way, man. I don’t,” Hank said, looking around wildly.
“The fuck is the matter with you two?” Robbie said. “Ghosts? You think fuckin’ Casper is doing this shit? ’Cause I don’t. A person’s killing everyone, flesh and blood. Come on, guys. Don’t lose it on me now.”
“There’s too much here to be coincidence. It’s all exactly the same. Exactly. Look, the night before Billy disappeared I ran into him. He was babbling. I figured the police had just messed with his head, but I don’t think so anymore,” Jason said. He’d almost forgot about the conversation. “He told me it was coming for him, headlights, that he was on the wrong side this time. And what about Stu? He just went crazy. There’s something else going on here, there has to be,” Jason said.
Robbie didn’t look convinced. “All of this wasn’t exactly a secret. Anyone could have found out, planned it all.”
“Who? Why? How?” Hank pressed.
Robbie didn’t answer right away, he just stood, clenching and unclenching his jaw. When he did open his mouth, a torrent of words spilled out, as if he’d been holding up a dam of them.
“Could be you, Hank. Starting to seem pretty damn likely. You were the last one to see Mac alive. Everyone knew how much you hated him. You knew where the records were. You spent the most amount of time with Mia. What was it? Did she reject you? Huh? Didn’t want some crusty old convict as her man? I don’t know why you would have done Billy and Stu, but there’s too much here that makes sense.”
“Best watch your words, Robbie. Fuckin’ watch them. Mia was my friend, I’d never hurt her. Say I did again and I’ll—”
“Kill me? Like the others?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Hank protested hotly.
“Lately, you mean. You haven’t killed anyone lately. Not like you’re not capable of doing it.”
“Fuck you, Robbie. Fuck you. That was thirty years ago.”
“Yeah, well, maybe Mac was right. Maybe your ghosts have caught up with you,” Robbie said. The two men were squared off, staring hard at each other, clutching their weapons. Jason knew that at any moment violence could break out. If that happened, whose side did he fall on? Hank was his friend, but Robbie was right. Hank did seem guilty. Robbie had been with him; he couldn’t have killed Mac. Only Hank could have.
“Stop it, you two. Just stop. We have to do something. We don’t have much time. The police could…” Jason’s voice was cut off by a strange hissing coming from outside the door.
“The fuck is that?” Robbie asked.
“No idea,” Jason said. He slowly walked toward the door and eased it open. Outside, the hallway was empty. Empty except for a fog, slowly rising upward. That doesn’t make any sense.
Robbie looked around him and saw it too. “Shit. That’s tear gas. They’re trying to smoke us out.”
“Upstairs. Now,” Hank said. There was no time to argue. Covering his face as best he could, Jason took off running with the others close behind.
24
Chapter 24
“Gotta say, I’m pretty goddamn tired of running up and down these stairs,” Hank said, holding his side. Jason couldn’t answer; he was too busy trying not to cough up a lung. Robbie was in a similar state, leaned up against the wall. “They must be trying to soften us up a bit before they come in. Or just plain smoke us out.”
Jason n
odded, still unable to speak. He was trying to strain his ears for any sounds from downstairs that would signify the police’s arrival. It was no use. The voices were growing louder, nearly drowning out all other ambient noise. There was nothing he could do to shut them out; holding his hands over his ears didn’t muffle them. They were inside his head. The words were still unclear, though he doubted that would remain the case. The smell too was present as before, somehow having survived the burn of the tear gas in his nostrils.
“Bastards,” Robbie said, coughing and spitting on the floor. “Haven’t been tear-gassed in a long time. Didn’t miss it. What the hell do we do? Can’t go back down there now. It’s too dangerous.”
“Gotta do something. Police’ll be coming in soon. They want to drive us out, make us scurry upstairs where we can’t escape. Where they can track us down,” Jason said.
“What about Mac’s hostage?” Robbie asked.
“They must know that there isn’t one. Or be sure enough to make a decision,” Hank said.
“How, though? How could they know that?” Robbie said.
“Could be lots of ways. Whole place could be bugged, police could have left devices when they were snooping around, could be cameras too,” Jason said.
“Yeah, or them cameras that only see heat. Or something else that we don’t even know about. Doesn’t really matter, though,” Hank added.
“Either way, seems like they’re keen on taking the risk. Must be a hell of a lot of pressure to get this situation under control quickly. A bit of collateral damage might be worth it,” Jason said, scratching his chin. If we all die, any answers die with us. No one will ever know what happened here. Maybe that’s for the best.