Backtracker

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  "I couldn't just tell you that I was you and that you ought to avoid certain things. I didn't think you'd believe me...and even if you did, there was no guarantee you'd be completely safe.

  "I couldn't follow you around twenty-four hours a day, trying to keep you from making the mistakes I made. I couldn't keep the wrong people away from you all the time.

  "The only way that I could be sure...one-hundred percent sure that you'd stay on track...was to kill the people who could hurt you."

  Larry sighed and shook his head. "I really do wish there'd been another way," he said softly. "Still, this was my big chance...my only chance. I had to make it count. I had to be sure."

  Again, Larry sighed. He glanced at Dave, then the corpse in the sand; he quickly flicked his eyes back to the lake.

  "Anyway," he continued, "I killed the girl first. Her name was Debby...Debby Miller. She was the girl you would've gotten pregnant and married.

  "Next, I got rid of Steve Kimmel...the guy who would've stolen Darlene. I set him on fire and burned his family's house down with him.

  "I hate to admit it," sighed Larry, "but I enjoyed killing both of them. The two of them had started it all, the whole mess. They'd done more than anybody to ruin my life.

  "Ernie's folks were tougher. I didn't want to kill them...but I had to.

  "I had to be sure that your best friends didn't desert you. Before, in my life...in your life, the way it would have been...not having Billy or Ernie around made everything a thousand times worse. I often thought, if only they'd been there for me, I would've been able to hold myself together.

  "That's why I killed Ernie's folks," shrugged Larry. "I knew that if his parents were dead, he'd have to stay in town to take care of his brother and sister. He'd have to be here for you when you needed him.

  "It really was hard, though," nodded Larry, looking up at the dimming sky. "The Dumbrowskis were good people. They didn't deserve to die, not like Debby or Steve.

  "I hated to ruin Ernie's plans for medical school, too. I knew he wanted that more than anything, to be a doctor. I remembered that was all he used to talk about...and then seeing him after I came back, hearing him talk about it all over again, really made it harder.

  "I had a hell of a time killing his parents...but it just had to be done. I had to keep him here for you, no matter what.

  "That was the same reason why I killed Tom Martin," said Larry, dropping his gaze from the sky to the lake. "To keep your friends here for you.

  "I killed Tom so Billy would stay. The way things went before, Billy couldn't find a good job anywhere in town. All he really wanted was to work as a manager at the steakhouse, but no management job opened up, and he had to leave town to find work.

  "With Tom dead, there's a job just waiting for Billy at Wild West...and you and I both know Billy's a shoe-in. Wyland's crazy about Billy, and Billy's got all the qualifications.

  "With Tom Martin gone, Billy's set," nodded Larry, staring at the dark lake...apparently forgetting--or trying to forget--that Billy was dead in the sand before him. "He'll move right into Tom's job, and he'll stay in town. You and he and Ernie will stick together like you always have.

  "The three of you should've never been split up anyway. I don't know why it happened in my life...but now I've made sure it goes the way it should in your life." Larry sighed, turned his face even further from the bloody corpse beside which he knelt.

  "That kid I killed out at Wolf's Rock today," he continued. "Frank Hoffman. He was the kid who got my brother in trouble for drugs...would've gotten Jeff in trouble, that is.

  "I know that getting rid of Frank Hoffman doesn't guarantee that Jeff won't have problems...but at least maybe he'll have a better chance at a good life now. He'll never run into that kid, anyway...and, besides, once I've straightened things out for you, you'll be able to help Jeff. You can provide a better example for him to live up to."

  Larry glanced at Dave and nodded, then bobbed his head back toward the infant which lay behind him.

  "The baby's Michael Moses," Larry said matter-of-factly. "Michael Moses, Junior. He's the one who killed my parents.

  "If he grows up, he'll kill your parents," said Larry. "He'll break into your house and shoot them both.

  "Obviously, I can't let that happen. I have to be sure it won't happen. The only way to do that is to kill him before he can kill them.

  "Now, I don't know," sighed Larry, tossing his shriveled claws in the air. "I guess it's possible that the changes I've made will prevent your parents from being killed by him. I mean, who knows? If you change one thing, maybe the whole chain of events gets switched around.

  "The thing is, I can't leave this up to chance," Larry stated firmly, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. "I have to be sure there's absolutely no way for him to get my parents...your parents. I have to be sure."

  Pausing, Larry stared intently at Dave. The killer frowned, looked away, then looked back.

  "I'm just sorry you have to be here for this," Larry said dejectedly. "I wish I could've finished my work without you ever knowing...and without..."

  Larry's voice cracked and his eyes dipped toward the corpse. He didn't immediately look away; his gaze lingered on the face in the sand for a moment before his eyes snapped back up from the sight.

  Larry drew and released a deep breath. He cleared his throat, closed his eyes briefly, then winced at Dave.

  "I wish you'd never gotten involved in all this," the killer said raggedly. "You were...never meant to get involved. I wanted to keep you clear of the whole business.

  "It's all my fault," sighed Larry, turning toward the lake. "I dragged you into this.

  "I should've just stayed away from you, away from the whole gang. I could've done what I came back to do without ever going near any of you.

  "I should've just killed Debby and Steve and Ernie's folks and Tom Martin and the other two without going near you. I should've done it that way." Larry slowly shook his head, reached up to rub his hairless, ravaged chin.

  "I was weak. I should've stayed away from you, but I couldn't. I couldn't resist seeing you...and all my old friends.

  "You see, I came back...came back to a time I'd loved...and everything was still the way I'd remembered...but I wasn't really me. This time was still yours, and I couldn't relive it as you, as myself.

  "I guess...I wanted a little piece of it," Larry said softly, reflectively. "I wanted to relive a little bit of it, the only way I could...by being with you, and Billy, and Ernie and all the rest...working with you, going to parties with you.

  "It was so strange," said Larry, turning to Dave with a bewildered, crooked smile. "It was unbelievably strange...seeing you, being around you...but you were me, the way I used to be. Even now, when I look at you, I just can't get over it. It's like I'm looking in a mirror...but there you are, a separate person. You hardly seem real...but you are." For a moment, the killer stared at Dave, his expression caught between a smile and a puzzled frown.

  "I couldn't help myself," Larry said at last, shaking his head. "I had to be with you all. It was strange...but sometimes, especially when you weren't around...when I was working with Billy and the others, or you'd wandered away at a party and I was just there with my old gang...sometimes, I really felt like I was my old self, like I was reliving the best times of my life...like I'd never left. Sometimes, I felt like the rest of my life had never happened...like it had all been a bad dream.

  "I'm sorry," said Larry, again looking to the lake. "I'm sorry for that. I had no right. I was...selfish.

  "I was selfish and stupid," said the killer, his voice swelling with remorse. "Not only did I get close to you when I should've stayed away...but I got you involved. I didn't mean to, but I pulled you into this.

  "I warned you that someone at the steakhouse might betray you. I shouldn't've said anything, should've just let it happen...but I went ahead and did it. I just wanted to help, and I didn't think you'd realize there was anything unusual about it...which,
of course, you did.

  "Then, at that party, I dropped hints that the cops might have a problem with the way you guys parked. Again, I was stupid. I figured no one would think anything of it, or maybe they'd pick up on the hint and move their cars. I thought I could save everybody some trouble, or else they'd think it was just a coincidence.

  "Naturally, you caught on to that one, too.

  "I guess my biggest mistake...was getting you to save Boris," Larry said pensively. "I should've just gone after him myself.

  "I just...I wasn't sure I could stop him from killing himself. He didn't really know me the way that I am, and I didn't know if he would listen to me. I figured you would have a better chance with him.

  "It crossed my mind that I shouldn't drag you into it," sighed Larry. "I realized it might be risky for me...for my work. To tell you the truth, saving Boris wasn't even part of my original plan. Boris was never my best friend, y'know, not like Billy or Ernie.

  "Still, when the time came, I couldn't sit back and let him die. I just couldn't...and I had to be sure that he wouldn't go through with it...so I got you to stop him.

  "That was enough to really get you going. You knew something was up with me, and you got serious about finding out what it was.

  "I tried to brush it off, but you wouldn't leave me alone. You kept asking questions...and then I slipped up again by asking about Ernie's parents the night before they died.

  "I was careless. I was a little drunk that night...and I guess I was trying to set everyone up for what would happen the next day. I guess I thought that by talking about how many accidents happened this time of year, everyone would more easily accept that Ernie's folks' death was an accident.

  "I don't know," said Larry, and he shrugged. "I guess I was just careless...and I underestimated you. I forgot how sharp you are...how sharp I was when I was you.

  "You really came after me, didn't you?" said Larry, flashing a smile at Dave. "You came after me with both barrels.

  "You followed me to Martin's house the night I killed him...and then you tried to blackmail me with that video you claimed to have." Still smiling, Larry chuckled and wagged his head.

  "I thought that story about me being psychic threw you off, but then you just kept after me! You wouldn't even quit after you saw what I'd done at Wolf's Rock...not even after I told you Billy's future was at stake!

  "You're really something else!" grinned Larry. "Even after you saw how I killed that kid, you wouldn't back down! Hell...you came after me! I was afraid you'd call the cops, and you came after me! God only knows how you found me...but you did!

  "I don't know," chuckled Larry, eyes glinting from his dark face. "I guess I should be proud of myself for tracking me down so well."

  Larry laughed, but his amusement didn't last; the laughter and the smile quickly faded, and he again turned his face toward the lake.

  "Anyway, I wish I hadn't gotten you involved," the killer said softly. "I wish it hadn't all come to this.

  "It...wasn't supposed to happen this way. Billy was supposed to get the job he'd always wanted at Wild West...and you and he and Ernie should've lived happily ever after.

  "When I left the house, I really thought you two wouldn't catch up to me...until I'd finished with the baby. I didn't think...for God's sake, I didn't think things would turn out this way.

  "There wasn't anything else I could do...except come here.

  "I didn't know how much time I had left. When I made the deal with that guy to come back, he'd said I'd have enough time to finish my plan...but what he didn't tell me was that I'd start rotting like this toward the end. I guess that was just another little bonus he threw in.

  "Once I got the baby, I didn't know how much longer I'd be in any shape to finish things off. For all I knew, my 'travel agent' had lied to me from the start and I wouldn't be able to finish my plan before I completely fell apart.

  "I didn't have any choice. I had to come here. According to the deal, I had to finish the last step of the plan here, where I was dropped off. I had to finish the plan, I had to do it here...and I thought I'd be done before you two caught up with me, if you could even find me here.

  "I didn't want to risk trying to finish somewhere else. I was afraid if I didn't stick to the deal...my 'travel agent' would take it all back...all the changes I'd made.

  "I understand now," Larry said ruefully. "I understand why he made the deal the way he did.

  "I understand...why he made me promise to finish things here," said Larry, covering his eyes with one blackened hand. "I should've known...he'd figure out a way to screw me."

  *****

  Chapter 75

  Dave Heinrich watched and listened, didn't think. The currents of his mind were still and silent.

  Dave didn't think about how bitingly cold the air had become, how the rain felt like a shower of ice. He didn't think about how much his hands ached after holding the gun for so long. He didn't think about the infant's continual shrieking or the crackling of thunder overhead. He didn't think about home or Darlene or that body which wasn't Billy Bristol.

  He didn't think about what the killer was saying. He watched and listened, but didn't think, didn't think about anything.

  "I'm sorry," Larry said raggedly, drawing his hand from his eyes. "I'm sorry that I...botched things up in the end. I really tried...to do what was best for you.

  "I'm sorry," whispered Larry, gazing down at the corpse in the sand. "I'm truly sorry."

  Dave also looked down at the body, the strange, still form. He didn't think about it; he didn't feel a thing.

  "I can't ask you to forgive me," said Larry, looking up at Dave. "I just want you to know...I'm sorry.

  "If I could...I would take this back. I would do anything...if it would bring back Billy.

  "I would do anything," whispered Larry, wincing beseechingly at the sky.

  For a moment, the killer stared at the darkened heavens, gazed into the storm as if he expected a godly voice to offer him a new deal. No answer boomed from the clouds; there wasn't even a roll of thunder to suggest that he'd been heard by anyone but Dave.

  "I don't care...if you don't believe me," Larry said haltingly, dropping his eyes to meet Dave's gaze. "It doesn't matter...if you don't believe what I've told you. If I was you...after everything that's happened...I wouldn't believe me, either.

  "It's probably better...if you don't believe me. It'll be better for you...if you just think of me as some maniac...some psychopath who never had anything to do with you.

  "It'll be better that way," nodded Larry, eyes gleaming like coins in the darkness. "It'll be better if you don't try to believe."

  Dave watched without blinking, listened without thinking. Larry's words meant nothing to him, nothing at all; for all the effect that the killer's confession was having on Dave, Larry might as well have been moving his lips without making a sound.

  "I only hope...that everything turns out all right for you," said Larry. "I hope...that despite what happened to Billy...what I've done...you'll have a better life than I did.

  "I hope the changes I've made here in the past...in your present...will at least do some good. I hope that the terrible things I've done...won't all have been for nothing."

  Dave listened. He heard the rush and spatter of the rain; he heard the wailing of the child.

  He heard a rumble of thunder.

  "Please...try to forget all this," said Larry. "Don't dwell on it. That was always my biggest problem-I couldn't forget.

  "Cry...for Billy...always remember him...but don't let this hold you back. Don't let it make you bitter.

  "Forget...the hate," said Larry. "Forget me."

  Motionless, thoughtless, emotionless, Dave listened. He heard the moaning of the frigid wind; he heard his own breath.

  He heard the killer sigh.

  Larry raised a withered hand to rub his chin. His thumb and forefinger closed on the blackened flesh, pressed together as he started to knead.

  He di
dn't continue to rub his chin. Slowly, he pulled his hand from the spot, looked down at the gnarled claw.

  A chunk of meat had tugged free of his chin.

  It had easily separated from the surrounding flesh, had come away like a loose patch of fabric from a garment. Larry hadn't yanked, had hardly applied any pressure.

  The dark flap dangled from between his thumb and forefinger; it looked like a hunk of burnt beef or a torn bit of rubber, a black wattle of latex.

  Eyes wide, Larry stared at the thing.

  Dave stared, too. He saw the limp shred which had once been a part of Larry Smith; he saw it flutter as Larry's hand began to shake.

  He saw the new white, too, the pure white which had appeared on Larry...the ivory knob of bone which had been revealed when the meat came away.

  "No," whimpered Larry as he stared at the piece of himself. "Not yet. I'm not ready to go yet."

  Dave listened and watched, didn't move, didn't think. Gazing at the killer, he saw the knob of bone emerge more fully; as the skin of Larry's face tightened in a horrified grimace, the flesh around the chin winched back, widening the opening through which the bone protruded.

  Sobbing and shuddering, Larry raised another hand to his face. Gingerly, he dabbed at his forehead, his nose, his lips; shivering fingertips brushed over his features, hardly touched them, just skimmed the corrupted flesh as if he were taking inventory of the parts that remained.

  Larry's finger dusted over his cheek, then stopped.

  "I'm not ready," he gurgled. "Not yet. Oh God, not yet!"

  His twitching fingers abruptly pressed against his cheek and flexed.

  "Not yet!" shrieked Larry. "I'm not done!"

  His hand came away from his face; much of his cheek did the same.

  "Oh God!" he yowled. "Oh God!"

  The second flap of removed flesh quivered in his grasp. He held the blackened scrap in front of him, beside the first piece.

  Dave watched. He saw the two hunks of the killer's face, the rotten strips jiggling in dark, spastic fingers. He saw Larry sob and heave with a panicked intensity, an hysteria far beyond any prior agitation.