Something_Violent

by Rufty, Kristopher

  “Where’re your mom and sister?” I asked.

  “They were heading to the road…I had to come back.”

  “Well, if you wouldn’t have, I’d be…well…you know.”

  Maggie nodded. “Yeah.” She stepped closer to Zach.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Think he’s dead?”

  “Who cares? You need to get out of here. Catch up to your mom before she comes back too.”

  If Maggie had heard me, she gave no indication. Keeping her arms bent in front of her, her hands grabbing at her throat, she bent over, looking down at Zach. “He’s not breathing,” Maggie said.

  “Good.”

  “Wait. I think he twitched.”

  “Maggie, move—”

  Zach was on his feet and grabbing Maggie’s shoulders before I could finish my sentence. Screaming, Maggie whipped her head from side to side as Zach yanked her to him. Since he was so much taller than Maggie, the spike jutting from his stomach punched into her chest with a sick squelching sound. Maggie’s screams turned to gurgles. She coughed blood onto Zach’s mask. Dark streaks trickled down the white face.

  There was no point trying to help Maggie. Nothing I could do now to save her. But Zach, well, he had to die. For good. No more getting back up. No more tricks. No more vanishing only to reappear far away.

  And I could make sure that happened since he was distracted.

  I grabbed the machete’s handle, wrenching it free of the ground. It was heavy, like lifting an ax, as I reared back.

  Zach threw Maggie aside, turned to me. Saw my swing. Gasped.

  It was the last noise he would ever make.

  The machete chopped through his neck as if it weren’t there at all. His head launched, spinning in one direction as his body faltered in another. Blood gushed, spurting thick ropes of crimson from the ragged neck stump.

  His head landed at my feet. The body tripped back and forth, arms flailing, for many long moments before it finally collapsed.

  Standing there, all my weight on one leg, and huffing, I dropped the machete. I looked down at Maggie. On her back, arms splayed, she was still breathing. There was a dark hole in the center of her chest, red fluid pumping out. Her mouth was open and tight, as if biting down. I hoped she’d be all right, but I doubted it.

  Some help I’d been—one dead for sure, another on her way out. I could’ve just left and they’d have had the same odds of survival.

  It took longer than I wanted to get back to my pack. Getting on the ground to stuff my mask into it was excruciating. But getting up was even worse. Finally, I had everything I’d brought with me.

  I didn’t see anybody as I made my through the woods. But I heard a lot of sirens. I guessed Eve managed to flag somebody down for help.

  I got to my car in less than two hours. Nobody was around. I must’ve parked it in a good spot.

  As I drove, I passed an ambulance and several cop cars, boring down the road, lights flashing. When I was certain I wouldn’t see any more, I pulled off on the side of the road.

  And cried.

  28

  Ron

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” Seth asked.

  “Would it have mattered?” asked Jody.

  Seth stared at her, sympathy on his face.

  “Seth didn’t catch the leg wound?” Ron asked.

  “No,” she said. “I hid it from him.”

  “How?”

  “Wasn’t hard. He hadn’t been paying me any attention anyway.”

  “That’s not true,” Seth said.

  Jody didn’t bother arguing with him. She stared down at her hands in her lap while Seth sat back, crossing his arms.

  Ron felt as if they’d reached the end of their session, but he felt no closer to a resolution than he had when the talks first began. This could go on all night.

  Probably already has.

  He realized he had no idea what time it was, whether it was day or night. Or what day it was, for that matter. Maybe he’d been down here for months. Maybe longer.

  “So,” Ron said, “what happened when you came home that night?”

  Jody sighed. “Seth was in bed, so I went into the bathroom, cleaned myself up, disinfected the wound, then stitched it up.”

  “And all that time you didn’t know Seth had stayed home.”

  “Had no idea.”

  “How’d you tell Trish what had happened?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Surely she must’ve figured it out.”

  “Well, the cops never found Zach’s body.”

  “How’s that possible?” Ron asked. “You chopped off his head!”

  “I figured Trish must’ve gotten it before the police found it. Now it makes sense. Seth no-showed, so she probably came to tell me. Found his body, then quickly got rid of it. At least that’s what I tell myself. Sometimes I have nightmares that Zach shows up, holding his head under his arm, the machete swinging at me to finish the job.”

  “Those nightmares will eventually go away,” Ron said. “You’re still suffering from the shock of it all. Medication would probably help with that.”

  “No way. I’m not taking pills that’ll turn me into a zombie.”

  Ron figured she needed more than just pills, but said nothing. “Did the authorities ever catch on that you were there that night?”

  Jody shook her head. “No, but it was all in the news. The police never found the killer, or the wounded woman who’d tried to help the family. Maggie lived, surprisingly. I was glad when I found that out.”

  An uncomfortable quiet fell over all of them. Ron could almost see the awkward emotions raging inside both Covingtons.

  “So what’s happened since then?” Ron asked.

  “Nothing,” said Jody. “Seth’s talked about us spending some time apart.”

  “You don’t want that?” Ron asked.

  “Would you be here if I did?” she said.

  “Seth,” said Ron, “why do you want to separate?”

  “I don’t,” he said.

  “All the signs point to the contrary,” said Ron. “Let me ask you this: If she’d told you about bringing me here beforehand, would you have been willing to go along with it?”

  “Absolutely not,” Seth said.

  “I knew it,” said Jody.

  “Why not?” Ron asked.

  Seth was quiet as his eyes narrowed, as his mouth pursed. Ron watched the husband struggle with what he wanted to say. Finally, he looked up. “Because I wouldn’t have wanted to bring somebody else into this. There are things I wouldn’t have wanted to talk about…”

  “But you did talk about them,” Ron said.

  “So what?” Seth said. “I talked about what I felt comfortable with.”

  “Which is more than you probably thought you would’ve shared.” Ron smiled. “Correct?”

  “Maybe. So what?”

  “Jody, when did you decide you wanted to get me involved?”

  Jody gave a lame shrug. “I read your book while my leg was healing, started keeping tabs on you. I saw your tour dates on your website, you were attending a conference in Charlotte. The rest was Pappy’s idea, actually, to get you involved. He helped me set it up. Helped me get you in the trunk at the liquor store.”

  “He was there?” Ron asked.

  Jody laughed. “Yeah. He was watching us talk the whole time.”

  Ron felt heat in his cheeks. The man could’ve been anywhere. There’d been plenty of dark places for him to hide. Had he seen the way Ron had been staring at her legs? Had he seen Ron hide his wedding ring?

  Then it dawned on him, tearing through his worry.

  We’re at Pappy’s house.

  The old man was probably upstairs, supplying the water, the snacks. Probably sitting at the kitchen table, his worry leading him to chain-smoke, while we’re down here, hashing it all out.

  If by some miracle I was able to get free, I’d have Pappy to deal with upstairs.


  Ron had no hope for survival unless he guided Seth and Jody through their differences and moved them past their dilemmas. There really wasn’t anything else left for him to do.

  It was time to give his final counsel. There would be no other sessions. So what he said from here on out would determine whether he lived or died.

  Most likely, he’d die either way. But he wanted to try.

  Besides, through all the chaos and bloodshed, he saw a loving couple. And he liked both of them, and deep down, he rooted for them to work it out.

  “So, now what, Doc?” Seth asked. “I’m tired of sitting down here, talking about all this. It’s making me sad. So tell me: Are we completely fucked up?”

  A flurry of things to say whipped through his mind. Each one was typical counselor bullshit that his simple clients would have easily gobbled up. The Covingtons wouldn’t.

  “You can’t just ask him that,” Jody said.

  “Well, we need to know, don’t we?”

  Jody looked at Ron. Her bottom lip was clamped between her teeth. Her wide eyes were brimming with tears.

  She’d really gone through a lot, if her stories were true. A lot. Just to be with Seth.

  So has Seth, though. And he loves her.

  Obviously. She was still alive. Plus the way he kept looking at her…

  The look.

  The look!

  The revelation hit Ron so hard, it made him gasp. Jody and Seth jumped.

  “The two of you,” Ron began, “are a unique couple, one I can honestly say I’ve never come across.”

  “I don’t know whether we should be proud,” Seth said, “or insulted.”

  Jody shushed him.

  “Nobody’s stories could ever match yours. But you know what? Your stories could never match anybody else’s, either. Everyone is different. Each good couple is a perfect blend of two people into one. The two of you? You’re like one beating heart. A violent heart that has pounded so hard for too long and it’s ready to rest.”

  “You want us to die?” Jody said.

  “Fuck that,” said Seth, starting to stand up.

  “No!” Ron shouted. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

  Come on, Ron. Get your damn words together. Stop babbling! Don’t worry about prose here, just say the damn words!

  He opened his eyes. Seth had sat down, but now he leaned forward, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  If I say the wrong thing, he’s going to pound me.

  The words exploded from Ron’s mouth. “Jody said she couldn’t kill that family because of the look Richard gave to Eve.”

  “Right,” said Jody. She shook her head. “It was—”

  “A complete expression of adoration,” Ron finished for her.

  “Wow,” she said. “I guess so. Your words are better than mine, but yeah. You’re right.”

  “Seth’s been looking at you like that all night,” Ron said.

  The pain on Jody’s face cracked. Her head dropped. Her arms went limp in her lap. “But everything’s so different…”

  “Is the difference what bothers you the most?” Ron asked.

  “Well…”

  “Did it bother you at first?”

  “I guess it didn’t. Not at first.”

  “When did it start? When you tried to kill that hitchhiker?”

  Jody’s head lifted. Eyes pointed at the ceiling, her head tilted back and forth. “Maybe.”

  Ron looked at Seth. “What’s been on your mind these last several months?”

  “What do you mean?” Seth asked.

  “Have you wanted things to go back to normal? The two of you, slaughtering people, leaving a trail of bloodshed behind you?”

  “Not just that,” he said. “I mean—not really.”

  “You just want to feel the…love again,” Ron said.

  Seth looked away.

  You’re getting through! Keep it up!

  Ron took a deep breath. His lungs felt tight. “And this downward spiral really started after the Wilsons ordeal.”

  Seth stared at him. Speechless.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” Ron said.

  “Is there a point to all of this?” Seth asked.

  “I hope so,” Ron said. “If not, then I’m just spouting complete bullshit. But you’re not paying my hourly rate, so it’s free bullshit, right?” He was met with blank stares. “My opinion? You’ve survived the glory stage.”

  “The…what?” Jody asked.

  “The glory stage. Everybody has a different name for it, but that’s my moniker. When things first start in a relationship, there’s sex, lots of it. People’ll stay up all night talking to each other. There’s this nervous energy constantly buzzing between each person. It’s fresh, it’s new, and it kills your appetite because your thoughts of the other person consume you. In your mind, nothing’s more important than seeing them again, talking to them again, and touching them again.

  “But then things begin to change, and this is good, no matter what our society tries to make you believe. You’re growing comfortable in the relationship, maybe you’re even farting in front of each other.”

  Jody snickered.

  Ron smiled, but kept talking. “Some people are destroyed by this. When the freshness wears off, it makes them question everything. These people are unable to commit. You two were committed in the beginning, when Jody killed Sheriff Bernstein. You bonded when you disposed of Glenn’s and Stacey’s bodies. Then you had a marathon of glory stages that lasted for a long time…”

  Seth held up his hand. Eyes narrowed, he looked at Ron as if he’d heard something he couldn’t quite grasp. “Get to the damn point. I’m not going to tell you again.”

  “I’m getting there,” Ron said. “When Jody started looking into your family, her heart was in the right place. But what she inadvertently did was put herself on the other end of your glory spree. You, Seth, you saw what it was like, all over again, to have somebody you love with all your heart, being tortured. It reminded you of your family. And it also woke you up. You were pulled out of this feverish fantasy of thrill-killings and were reduced to that little boy again—hiding in the tree while his family’s killers burned down his house. I think that’s why you killed the girls. They had to die, as you said. Because if they didn’t, in your mind, Seth, you’d failed Jody.”

  A single tear spilled from Seth’s eye, slid down his cheek, and hung on his jaw before dripping onto his pants.

  Ron took a deep breath. Sweat drizzled from his face. “It also made you realize, Seth, something bad can happen to Jody. Without your understanding it, something was planted in your mind that made you understand each time you go out for some fun, you run the risk of her being killed.”

  “Is that true, Seth?” Jody asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. She lightly rubbed it.

  Seth glanced at her, shrugged. Then he nodded.

  Jody turned to Ron. “So what does all this mean?” she asked.

  “Well,” Ron said, taking a deep breath. “When we started, Jody, you told me that Seth no longer wanted to kill with you. I don’t believe that’s true, not really. See, both of you put the emphasis of your marriage on the killing. Ask yourself why?” Jody’s mouth opened as if she were about to say something. “Don’t answer. Just think about it. Some couples put all the stress of their marriage on the sex. And we all know sex, or lack thereof, ruins marriages. What you two have is real. The killing isn’t what held it together for this long, your union has. My opinion—you no longer have the thrill of killing because…you can’t accept the fact that you don’t have to kill.”

  Minutes of silence passed. Ron watched the young couple struggle to comprehend what he’d just said. To him, it was obvious. The thrill wasn’t there any longer because it was no longer welcome. That was why Seth hadn’t gone out to meet Trish. He simply hadn’t wanted to. And that was why Jody put a stop to Zach before he could finish what he’d started. She felt sorry for that family. They ha
d a baby, something she probably wanted to have herself.

  Their blood-spattered fantasy was done.

  “You both love each other,” Ron said, killing the quiet. “Anybody who looks at you can tell that. The love isn’t the issue here, it’s everything else. Jody, I believe you’re afraid of what it might be like if you don’t kill with Seth.”

  “I’m afraid…” Jody fought back tears, lips quivering. “I’m afraid he won’t have any use for me…”

  Seth looked at her. “You never have to worry about that.”

  “When I saw you looking at those pictures of Trish…it hurt. I mean, I know she’s not prettier than me.”

  “Hell no,” said Seth.

  “And it wasn’t like she was masturbating or something. It was the blood, the carnage that you got off on.”

  “I didn’t get off on it,” Seth said. “It was probably part of the reason why I never met up with her. A woman like Trish, all there could ever be was the killing. But with you…” Seth quickly rubbed his eyes. “With you there’s this whole other world to tap into. And I’ve enjoyed my time in it.”

  “Really?”

  “I swear.”

  “Then what’s our problem?” she asked.

  “That’s not my place to say,” said Seth. He looked at Ron. “It’s his.”

  “And I already told you,” Ron said. “Killing isn’t the glue keeping you together. You understand how valuable each other are, and because of the Wilsons, you also understand how quickly it can be taken away. I’m not here to tell you that you should stop killing. In fact, I think the opposite. Killing is something you do together, but what I suggest is to kill only when the urge comes on. Don’t force it. Don’t force anything. Things develop naturally in every aspect of a relationship, and if you put strain on it, it’ll break every time.”

  “Wow, Doc,” said Seth. “I stand corrected. You’re not so full of shit, after all.”

  Ron smiled. He knew he’d done a great job here. Sure, it was probably going to get him killed, but he could die satisfied in knowing he’d worked to keep two people—who’d been put on this planet specifically for each other—together.

  The rest was up to them.