Skulls

by Tim Marquitz

  He squeezed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth to the rhythm of the music. Terrance’s plaintive wail screamed along inside his mind. It took him a long time to settle down and relax. His night with Cass had been cut way too short. He growled when he thought about it. Snuggled up in his bed, he had only the dead for company.

  As the disc played on, he found a bit of sleep at last.

  Chapter Twelve

  The door to Jacob’s room flew open. Jacob popped up in bed as his father stormed in. He saw the fury in his eyes.

  “Turn that fucking shit off!”

  His dad came at him, the smell of the bar leading the way. Jacob covered his head with his arms. He suddenly noticed the music and realized he’d brought this on himself. Before he could apologize, his dad grabbed his arm. His strong fingers sunk deep into the muscle.

  “Did you hear me?”

  He yanked Jacob from under the covers and threw him at the stereo. Jacob tumbled across the bed and slammed into the small table. A sharp pain stung his temple as he and the table crashed to the floor. The stereo dropped onto his back and went silent, the CDs flying.

  His father went to step around the bed, but stumbled, nearly falling. His hand on the mattress to steady him, he didn’t move from there. He growled as Jacob scrambled to put his back against the wall.

  “This is my house, you little bastard. As long as you live here you’ll follow my rules.” His voice was raspy, his words slurred. He pointed a condemning finger at Jacob. “When you pay the bills, you can blast your damn devil music all you want. But until then, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Jacob nodded and muttered, out of breath, “Yes sir.” Sharp stabbing pains rippled along the side of his head.

  His father straightened and glared at Jacob. His eyes seemed to swirl in their sockets and he rubbed at them. As if he’d forgotten about Jacob, he turned and stumbled from the room. He slammed the door on his way out.

  Jacob trembled as he stared at the door. Heavy-booted footsteps trailed away to the other side of the trailer. He heard Ann’s voice, then the thunder of his father’s. She went quiet. After a few loud moments, his father did too.

  It was a few minutes later before Jacob managed to catch his breath. He reached up and touched his temple. He hissed and drew his hand away. There was blood on it. It wasn’t a lot, but his head throbbed.

  He got to his feet slow, his heart still pounding in his chest. His head twinged with every beat. Rather than go to the bathroom and tend his wound, Jacob pulled a shirt from his closet and set it against his temple. He held it there until the bleeding stopped. Once it had, he tossed the shirt onto the overturned table and crawled into his bed. He pulled the covers over his head and lay there trembling.

  It would be after dawn before he found the courage to sleep. The sound of his father’s truck rumbling down the street played him out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hours later, Jacob dragged himself from bed. His head pounded as he stood. Blurry-eyed and tired, his dreams haunted him. He stared at the clock, which still lay on the floor, for several minutes before the time cleared in his head, two p.m.. He left the table and stereo where they were and staggered off for a shower.

  Intermittent flashes of the night before accompanied the flow of water that streamed over his head. It ran red for a moment and he felt a biting sting at his temple. He took a deep breath and waited it out. After a moment or two, the pain eased to a tolerable level.

  When the warm water finally cleared his mind, the angry dreams he’d woken up to slipped into the background clutter of his head. Once he felt a little better, he dragged himself out of the shower to get ready.

  Ann snored in her room as he slipped out of the trailer. He shut the door quietly and headed off down Sudderth. Jacob ran across the street and made his way to the library. Catching the librarian just as she opened the door at noon, Jacob mumbled a greeting. He traipsed inside to where they had the public access computers.

  Cass already suspicious of him and wondering what was going on, he didn’t want to bother her for her computer again. He touched his temple and winced as he thought about it. He didn’t know what to tell her. She didn’t need to know everything. At least now, she only thought he was an idiot. He could fix that.

  In the relative privacy of the library, he sat at one of the desks furthest from the librarian, earning him a suspicious look from her. Not even bothering to acknowledge he’d seen it, he loaded up the browser and began to search for information on Terrance.

  There wasn’t much to be found.

  Though it was clear in Terrance’s mind what he had done, the world at large hadn’t known it was him. Terrance Cole showed up as a tiny blip even in the vast world of the internet. His whole existence was a missing persons report. He was tagged as a likely runaway who never showed back up. There was no reported connection between him and the smattering of bombings, or even the injuries at the hotel. His death had wiped his slate clean as far as the city was concerned.

  The only historical information was that Terrance had lost both of his parents to a suspicious house fire when he was twelve. He’d been a ward of the state after that and was adopted by an older couple at the age of fourteen. He lived with them until his disappearance in the early ‘90’s. There was no record of him after that.

  Unlike Katie, Terrance’s body had never turned up. Only his skull, Jacob thought.

  Having learned nothing about Terrance other than the fact that he had been from Ruidoso, and had disappeared here, Jacob cleared the browser memory and hopped up. He thanked the librarian as he passed her, thinking it best to keep her on somewhat decent terms. He went back out into the bright day.

  His thoughts cluttered with the dead, he figured it best to wander a bit to clear them out. No real direction in mind, he headed further into town. Cars cruised past as he wandered alongside the main thoroughfare.

  The drifting scents of the local restaurants tickled his nose as he walked by without a glance. His stomach rumbled at the smell. A subtle wave of nausea was accompanied by images of Terrance, the axe severing his toes. Jacob shook the vision away and sped his pace.

  As he neared Wal-Mart, the traffic thickened around him. He veered off to avoid the packed intersection. His head was still a vague haze of alternating color and gray. He walked on a ways before he became aware of the uncomfortable feeling that someone was staring at him.

  He turned his head and glanced over at the nearby lumberyard. He saw a rundown Chevy pickup parked at the loading dock. Beside the bed stood a behemoth of a man in faded overalls, a stained T-shirt underneath. Jacob blinked a couple of times as the man glared at him.

  At last it clicked. It was Old Man Jenks. Like a rabbit in the headlights, Jacob went rigid.

  A twisted grin welled up on Jenks’s face. The old man just stood there until he was sure he had Jacob’s complete attention. Their eyes locked and Jenks pointed at Jacob with his left hand and reached into the back of his truck with his right. From the bed, he pulled out his axe. He lifted it just high enough so Jacob could see and identify it.

  A chopping motion with the axe sent Jacob scurrying. He spun in place and bolted toward the Wal-Mart parking lot. He didn’t look back as he took the hill, which led up to the superstore, at a gallop. The slap of his feet was loud in his ears. He crested the top and jumped over the steel barricade.

  Dodging cars, he ran through the parking lot and into the store. The cold rush of air conditioning met him at the door, giving him chills. He slowed once he was inside and made his way to the biggest congregation of shoppers, casually joining their ranks. He didn’t think Jenks would try anything in a crowd.

  His chest was still tight. Rapid breaths steamed from his mouth. His heart boomed as he struggled to get it under control. In a panic, he mingled as best he could. His eyes were locked on the door all the w
hile.

  Several people stared at him, suddenly finding somewhere else to be. They dodged down aisles to avoid him. Jacob smiled awkward, still trying to blend in. It didn’t take him long to realize it wasn’t going to happen. A sweaty, wild-haired kid with bags under his eyes and cuts all over his face wasn’t exactly conspicuous. So rather than fight it, he slipped off behind an end-cap and tried to be casual.

  He stayed there for an hour, his eyes never giving up his search for Jenks. Finally digging some courage up from the grave of fear, he made his way to the door. He peeked out and let his gaze wander across the lot, seeing neither Jenks nor his rundown truck.

  He darted out amongst a wave of departing shoppers. He made his way through the labyrinth of parked cars until he came to the end of the parking lot. The lot was raised a good thirty feet above the roads below, so he took full advantage of it to make sure Jenks wasn’t waiting for him nearby.

  Not seeing him, he bolted down the decline and across the street. He found cover in the wooded back lot of an abandoned gas station. He waited there for a while and watched the traffic. His heart pounded a hole in his chest every time a car drove past the station. At last, he decided to try for home.

  Jacob stayed as far out of sight of the road as possible. He slipped through back yards and empty lots, even trudging through the canal on occasion. His boots squished with every step. Water soaked his feet and his pants were covered in mud, all the way up to his knees. Dots of it decorated his shirt. His hands and face were crusted with brown from his climbs out of the canal.

  As he slipped through a yard, he spied a reflection in the pool. It took him a moment to realize it was his. He stared at the streaks of mud that darkened his cheeks and saw the spot of red at his temple. The circles under his eyes seemed even darker than they had before. His hair stuck out in every direction. The gentle movement of the water only seemed to distort his face. He felt his stomach tighten at the sight.

  He reached into the pool and cupped handfuls of water, which he used to clean his face. A little cleaner than when he started, his reflection still gazed back at him as thought it was haunted. A cold chill prickled his spine as he thought it just might be. Leaving the wavering face behind, he hopped the fence and continued on.

  Finally, after two hours of stealthy travel, the trip taking an hour longer than necessary, Jacob made it home.

  He carefully watched the trailer from the trees. He waited for over thirty minutes, making sure Jenks wasn’t waiting there to surprise him. Finally convinced he wasn’t, he darted inside. He locked the door behind him. When he heard the water running in his dad’s room, he cursed, realizing around what time it was.

  His dad would be home any minute now. The last thing he wanted to do was see him.

  Quietly, he made his way across the living room and collected the unplugged phone before slinking off to his room. Once safely there, he plugged the phone into the wall jack and listened for the telltale sound of water running through the pipes. His stepmother still in the shower, he quickly dialed Cass’s number.

  The phone rang several times before being transferred to voicemail. Cass’s recorded voice sounded through the earpiece and Jacob frowned. He hung up and called again, then once more, each time reaching the answering service. He waited a few minutes and called again. Same response. Nothing.

  A strange, almost unreasonable, sinking feeling started in his stomach. He heard the water stop running and it spurred him into action. With only a few minutes to spare, he bolted from the house before Ann left the bathroom, and ran off down the street.

  He wasn’t sure what he was worried about, but Jacob ran all the way to Cass’s house.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The late afternoon sun warm in the cloudless sky, Jacob arrived at Cass’s house out of breath. Given the time, he was surprised not to see either of her parent’s vehicles in the driveway. They both should have been there.

  The bad feeling he’d managed to convince himself was nothing on the way to the house suddenly returned. Daring the front door, he rang the bell. He heard its melodic chime echoing through the house, but heard nothing else. He waited a minute, then rang the bell again. No one came to the door. He tried it one last time. No one answered.

  A cold sheen of sweat nagged at his forehead and he slid around the house to the back gate. He cast a quick glance over the wooden fence, but saw no one. He stood there for a few minutes, pacing back and forth, as he decided what to do. Finally, his mind made up, he latched onto the top of the fence and pulled himself over. His landing sounded way too loud in the quiet yard.

  He didn’t want to linger any longer than he had to. He made his way to Cass’s room. As he circled the pool, he saw something dark puddled on the ground by the back door. His heart leapt into his throat.

  Blood.

  The dark circle of fluid was about a foot wide. Thick drops led under the back door. Jacob followed the trail and gently twisted the doorknob. To his surprise, the knob twisted and the door clicked open. He cracked the door a little and looked inside. The blood trail continued through the kitchen.

  He caught himself before he stepped into the room. He stepped back and pulled the door shut. He made sure he didn’t step in the blood. His mind raced. Though he was worried about Cass, he knew better than to walk inside her house. There was no telling what he might find. He didn’t want to think about it.

  The best thing to do was call the police. He headed back to the fence and leapt over it. His heart in his throat, he slipped around the side of the house and into the front yard.

  Sheriff Tate leaned against the hood of his squad car, waiting. Jacob froze when he saw him. There was no hint of a smile on the man’s stoic face.

  “It was obvious you and Cassandra are close, but I can’t figure her parents would approve of you traipsing into their yard uninvited.” Tate adjusted his hat and walked over to Jacob. “What were you doing back there?”

  Jacob’s cheeks flushed. His tongue scrambled to speak. “I’ve been calling Cass for a while, but she wasn’t answering. That’s not normal for her. I was worried, so I came over to see if she was okay.”

  The sheriff stayed quiet and stared at him. After a moment, some of the tension eased out of Tate’s face, but he was still all business. “You came all the way over here from Paradise Park just because Cassandra wasn’t answering her phone. That’s a pretty good walk.”

  Jacob nodded, then pointed toward the backyard. “I found a puddle of blood by the back door and was going for a phone to call the police.”

  Tate raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t touch anything did you?”

  Jacob felt a tiny spike of adrenaline shudder through him. He looked to the sheriff, who waited for an answer. Jacob thought about it for a second before he answered.

  “No,” he told him, unwilling to admit he’d actually opened the door.

  Tate smiled. “Good. The Boones will need pictures for their insurance company. I’d hate to have to tell them someone made a mess of the scene.” He walked over and slung a meaty arm over Jacob’s shoulder. “So you know, and can stop worrying, Cassandra is fine.” He squeezed Jacob’s shoulder a little and guided him to the squad car. “Her father slipped on the back step and cracked his head open pretty good. He’s okay, but he’ll need some stitches. Cassandra and her mother are at the hospital with him. Jacob glanced up at the sheriff through narrow eyes as he was led along.

  Tate just laughed. “Don’t be suspicious, Jacob. It’s a small town. Every emergency call that goes out comes across my radio. Just like the one that told me some long-haired kid was breaking into the Boone’s house.”

  Jacob’s eyes went wide and he stopped walking, turning to look at the sheriff. “But I wasn’t—”

  “When I heard the description, I figured it might be you stopping by to see Cassandra, so I took the call to be sure. Gu
ess we were both lucky, huh?”

  Tate triggered the back locks on the cruiser and motioned for Jacob to get in the car. Jacob hesitated.

  “You’re not under arrest or anything.” He patted Jacob’s shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge toward the car. “I’m just taking you home to be sure my office doesn’t get any more calls from the neighbors. I can’t answer them all, you know.”

  Jacob eased into the backseat and the sheriff closed the door behind him. The big man then walked around the car and climbed in, tossing his hat onto the passenger seat. He picked up the radio and called into dispatch.

  After a crackled response, Tate called an all clear. He started the car and pulled off, headed for Jacob’s home. The sheriff’s eyes flitted back and forth between the road and the rear view mirror.

  “You’re still fairly new to town so maybe you haven’t caught on yet, but the folks ‘round Country Club don’t take kindly to people wandering through their neighborhood.” He looked into Jacob’s eyes through the mirror. “More often than not, we’re gonna get a call if they spot you in the area, no matter your reason for coming ‘round, you hear?”

  Jacob sunk into the backseat, nodding. He’d heard it all before. His father, his teachers, and even a few of his friends had said the same thing. It all added up to this, he was trash, and Cass was too good for him. He stared at the floor to keep from saying something he might regret later.

  The sheriff laughed at his reaction. Jacob’s angry stare met the officer’s in the mirror.

  “You’re misunderstanding me, boy. I’m not trying to warn you off. I’m just telling you how things are, what to expect.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “You ain’t ever gonna fit in ‘round The Club so you need to get that into your head. But if you and Cassandra are gonna make a go of it, you two need to figure things out or you’re gonna spend a lot of time explaining yourself to people who don’t give a damn about y’all’s feelings.”