by Tim Marquitz
Cold sweat trickled down his scalp. He dashed along the sidewalk and stuck close to the streetlights that fluttered to life above him. He held his breath as he ran through the darkness that welled up between them.
Everything around him was a blur. He snapped his head around as he passed a clustered grove of trees, certain he saw something move within them. Images of Jenks and the old man’s axe crowded into Jacob’s head, pushing the dead aside.
He was fueled by fear. No longer worried about shadows or streetlights, he ran until his heart threatened to explode. His footsteps barely made a sound as he flew along, finally reaching home with a shuddered gasp.
Jacob dug in his pocket for his keys. He forced the key into the handle and pushed his way inside. He barely opened it wide enough for him to get past before he slammed it shut behind him. He let his keys fall from his hands as he fumbled with the locks. The front door secure, he bolted through the house making sure every window was sealed tight.
When he was done, Jacob found himself staring out the front window. He saw the lighted road sign of the trailer park as it flickered off in the distance. Only the first four letters of the word Paradise still shone bright, the Park part still clear.
A shiver ran down his spine as his subconscious mind read it as Paranoid Park. With that, he went to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife he could find. He ran to his room and locked the door behind. Then he hunkered down in his closet, the knife held out before him. He struggled to catch his breath.
It would be hours before he felt safe enough to leave the cloistered sanctuary of his closet. His hands and knees ached when he got to his feet, his back throbbing. Adrenaline had long since burned off into exhaustion. He set the knife beside his bed, within easy reach, before turning off the lights and dropping onto the mattress. Darkness claimed him almost immediately.
Chapter Seventeen
“Are you stupid, boy?”
Jacob’s eyes popped open at the sound of his father’s voice, a rough hand pulling him from bed. He looked up through sleep-glazed eyes to see the fury carved deep into the lines of his father’s face.
A handful of possibilities for what he could have done flashed through Jacob’s mind, but he kept his mouth shut. The stale scent of liquor on his father’s breath was a warning. His dad took his silence for a yes.
Jacob was hauled to his feet, still dressed from the night before. His father latched onto the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the room. He pulled him down the hall and through the living room to the back door.
Jacob knew better than to resist. No clue what had his father so angry, he hurried alongside him to keep from being choked by his own shirt collar, which had bunched around his throat.
His dad pushed the door open and shoved him outside. He barely managed to get his feet beneath him as he hit the steps. Jacob bounded down them fast before scuffling to a stop at the bottom. He blinked his eyes clear in the bright, morning light and looked out into the yard.
He knew then why his father was so mad.
The lawn bags full of yesterday’s grass clippings were shredded over the length of the yard. The cut grass was everywhere, strewn about in moist piles. The trash cans, which had been on the side of the house, had been tossed into the yard as well. Their contents dumped on top of the grass clippings. A mountain of beer cans and empty liquor bottles shined in the early morning sunlight.
The bitter stink of old whiskey hung heavy in the air, fighting for supremacy over the fresh stench of cut, wet grass.
No clue what had happened, Jacob turned to his father. “I don’t—”
His dad stomped down the stairs and backhanded him. Jacob fell onto the clippings, holding his cheek.
“Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.” He waved his arms about. “You and your worthless long-haired friends were out here drinking all night like a bunch of idiots. You weren’t even smart enough to pick up your damn bottles.” He pointed at Jacob’s shirt as if just noticing what he was wearing. “Shit, you’re still dressed even. Too drunk to get undressed for bed, but you had no problem making a fucking mess, huh?”
Jacob sat there, his cheek burning. Whatever had happened, it didn’t matter what the truth was. His father had already laid the blame at his feet and no amount of arguing was going to get him to change his mind. Jacob lowered his head and stayed quiet.
His passiveness only enraged his dad. He kicked Jacob hard in the thigh, the steel-toes of his boot digging into the meat. When Jacob reached to soothe his leg, his dad came to hover over him.
“Clean this shit up. After you’re done with the yard—” He glanced around, his eyes alighting on the shed. “—organize the shed. Clean the house too,” he added as he stormed up the steps. “You and I are going to have a talk when I get home tonight, so you better damn well be here.” He stomped inside and slammed the door spurring muffled complaints from Ann. Heedless of her, and likely in spite of her, the front door was slammed even harder. It was followed a moment later by the truck door.
As his father’s truck rumbled down the street, Jacob took a deep breath and looked back to the mess. He growled as he surveyed the ruins of the yard. The mass of cans and bottles—his father’s—were scattered everywhere. The mounds of grass he’d already picked up once mocked him.
Though he didn’t do it, he had a sinking suspicion his father was half-right. He wouldn’t put it past Chris or Glenn to give him a hard time, sneaking over to his house after he’d passed out.
His face flooded red as he realized it was probably them that had been lurking in the bushes. He remembered vaguely that Glenn’s house was on his path home. They’d probably seen him run by and followed him. No doubt they waited until he’d turned the lights off before laying waste to the yard. He’d fallen asleep so deeply they could have done anything and he wouldn’t have known.
Furious, he set to work on cleaning the yard.
* * * *
His momentum slowed with the waning of his anger, Jacob was finished with the yard around noon. Sweat ran heavy down his face as he went to drop the last of the lawn bags by the fence. He heard the unmistakable grumble of Chris’s car as it pulled up to his house.
Like a fuse, his fury was reignited. He heard the engine go quiet and car doors slamming. He took a deep breath and swung the gate open, going out to meet him. Glenn and Cass came up the walk. Just behind them were Chris and Dee.
“Thanks a lot, assholes!”
His friends froze, their eyes going wide in unison. There was a shade of worry mixed in with Cass’s surprise.
“Damn. Good afternoon to you too, dude,” Chris replied, shaking his head. “What’s your problem?”
“Yeah,” Dee added, firmly planted at Chris’s side.
“Are you serious?” Jacob pointed toward the yard. “Did you guys think I wouldn’t know it was you?”
“What are you talking about?” Cass asked. She seemed hesitant to move closer.
Jacob threw his hands in the air. “My yard. These guys—” he pointed to Chris and Glenn, “—trashed my yard. I’ve been cleaning up grass and beer bottles all morning thanks to them.”
Glenn shook his head. His eyes narrowed. “No, man, I didn’t do shit.”
Chris took a step forward. “You think we trashed your yard? Why would we do that?”
The question caught Jacob off guard. He stared at Chris, who met his gaze boldly. He felt doubt creep in. What had been so clear that morning wasn’t quite so clear anymore. He had presumed it was them simply because he’d passed Glenn’s house on the way home. It had all fallen into place then, but now it just seemed…stupid.
“You guys didn’t see me last night?”
“Dude. Whatever it is you’re smoking, I want some,” Glenn answered.
“See you where?” Chris asked.
Jacob waved the question off. It was obvious they hadn’t seen him at all. “Never mind. I—”
“Yeah, man, don’t worry about it.” Chris wrapped his arm around Dee’s shoulder and pulled her toward the car. “I’m out of here. Catch you later, dude.” He shook his head and muttered, “Asshole.”
Glenn followed him without a word. He didn’t bother to look back. Cass just stared at Jacob. An internal debate played out across her face.
“Come on, Cass. Let’s go,” Chris shouted from the car. He held the door open and cast a dirty glare at Jacob.
Jacob ignored him and looked to Cass. He met her frustrated gaze, and then dropped his eyes. He couldn’t look at her.
“Go ahead,” Cass told Chris. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“Whatever.” Chris hopped inside his Camaro and gunned the engine. He slammed his door and peeled off. The tires kicked up a spray of loose dirt and rocks. The roar echoed through the trees as he raced down the road.
Once the sound had faded away, Cass moved a little closer to Jacob, but she stayed just out of reach.
“What was that all about?” There was fire in her voice.
“I don’t know.” Jacob went over to the stairs and dropped down. “Someone messed up the yard. I thought they did it.”
“Why would they?”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I just had it in my head that they did.” He leaned back against the stairs and propped himself up on his elbows. He sighed deep as he thought about it more. He wondered where the idea had come from, but he couldn’t say.
Cass came over and sat beside him. “They were at Chris’s house all last night.”
“How do you know?”
She set her hand on his. “I know because I called over there a few times looking for you when you didn’t answer the phone.”
Jacob sighed. He suddenly remembered Cass’s father. “How’s your dad?”
Cass looked at him strange. “How’d you hear about that?”
“I went by your house and found the blood out back. I thought something had happened to you.” He squeezed her hand. “Sheriff Tate caught me coming out of your yard and told me what happened. Is your dad okay?”
Cass tightened her grip. “Yeah, he’s all right. He split his head open pretty good, but he’s all right. He’ll be home for a few days after they make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”
“Cool. Glad it wasn’t serious.”
Cass looked out at the yard, then back to him. “You want to hang out for a bit?”
“Want to? Definitely. The question is—Should I?” He shook his head. “My dad is seriously pissed. He gave me a bunch of stuff to do. If I don’t have it done by the time he gets home, he’ll have me out here doing it in the dark.”
Cass slipped her hand free and stood up. There was no hiding the disappointment on her face.
“I’m sorry,” Jacob told her as he got to his feet.
“It’s cool, Jake.” He could tell it wasn’t. “I just wanted to spend some time with you. It’s been a really weird couple of days, you know?” She pursed her lips and took a step back, her arms wrapped across her chest.
He knew all too well about weird.
Once more, Jacob wanted to tell her about the bunker, but a nagging voice inside his head warned against it. How well would she take knowing he’d been avoiding her to go and sit in a room full of the skulls of murder victims? He didn’t figure that story would make her any less mad at him.
At the thought of the skulls, the visions were back.
“I’m going to go,” Cass told him.
Jacob barely heard her, only snapping out of his gruesome thoughts as she turned to walk away.
He blinked the visions back and reached out a hand for Cass. “Wait. I’m sorry.”
Cass waved him off. “Give me a call later, if you have the time.” She headed for the gate.
The coldness in her voice froze him in place. “Yeah, okay.” He didn’t know what to say. She was mad. She had every right to be, but Jacob couldn’t bring himself to try to make it right. He didn’t know how.
Cass stopped just outside the yard and looked back as if she remembered something. “You haven’t seen Dennis, have you?”
Jacob stared wide-eyed for a moment, then shook his head. “Why?”
But he already knew.
“He didn’t show up for work last night. Miss Hernandez is looking for him. Apparently he hasn’t been home for a couple of days now.”
Dennis’s image took center stage.
Kill me.
His final words echoed in Jacob’s ears. He felt his throat tighten and he shook his head again, not daring to speak.
Cass just sighed. “Tell him to go home, if you see him.” She cast one last glance at Jacob. Her eyes almost begged him to reconsider. When he just stood there without saying anything, Cass shut the gate and left.
The sound of the latch closing was overloud. Jacob hung out for a few minutes longer as the dead swirled about inside his mind. Death was haunting him.
He dropped onto the stairs and rubbed at his eyes. “Go home, Dennis. Go home.”
He knew he never would.
Chapter Eighteen
The rest of Jacob’s day was tedious. He rushed to get the storage shed done. Years of clutter had turned it into a nightmare that battered Jacob’s hands and his spirit. Finally done with it, he hurried inside to clean the house. His stepmother made it harder than necessary.
She puttered about the trailer, slaughtering dinner and making a mess most everywhere she went. She hardly noticed Jacob except when he got in her way. An exasperated look and a quiet huff cleared him from her path.
The willowy smoke of charred whatever-it-was for dinner mixed with Ann’s perfume in a way that couldn’t be healthy. Jacob went about his chores holding his breath. He finished just before his father came stomping up the stairs into the trailer.
His dad wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. He made a cursory lap of the house and yard before shooing Jacob into his room with only a perfunctory ass-chewing.
Jacob slipped away exhausted, but glad his father hadn’t cared enough to do worse. He plopped down on the bed and waited. Before too long, dinner was done and his father was stomping out of the house.
His dad called out to Ann to remind Jacob to clean the kitchen. She passed on the information with a shout from the living room as she pulled the front door shut. A minute later, they were gone to the bar.
* * * *
Jacob washed the day’s grime away in the shower. His skin was red and tender by the time he was finished. He got dressed and made quick work of the kitchen.
Afterward, he sat on the couch and stared at the dark TV set. His reflection stared back, gaunt and hollow-eyed. He sat up and took a closer look. He was amazed by the battered kid in front of him who mimicked his every move.
No wonder Cass thought there was something wrong. His narrow face was streaked with stripes where the branches had slashed him. They were crusted into red lines of scabs. There was another at his temple. The dark circles still hung around his eyes. His cheeks jutted out sharp. It was as though he hadn’t eaten in months. He didn’t look like himself.
Uncomfortable with what he saw, he pounded on the remote. He muted it as soon as it came on. He sat back as the set warmed up and a cheesy sitcom washed his reflection away. He ran his hands through his wet hair and wondered what Cass was doing.
When he had climbed into the shower, he had every intention of going over to her house and apologizing for how he’d been acting. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t find the motivation to go. The skulls picked at his brain like crows at a corpse. It was them he wanted to see.
Even when the visions weren’t flooding
his eyes, he heard their voices muttering in the recesses of his mind. Katie shrieked in the darkness, over and over. The sound prickled his skin with goose bumps. Terrance made it a duet. His agonizing horror bled through his pleading cries. Only Dennis was silent. His mournful eyes shimmered. They begged not to live, but to die. That was the worst.
Despite his best efforts, they were always there, and they were growing louder. Try as he might, the murdered dead would not be ignored.
As much as he hated to think it, there was no room for Cass in his head. She had been crowded out, though she still lingered in his heart. She was a small still voice calling to him, summoning him away from the dead.
Hurry, Jake. They’re coming for you.
The dead drowned her out with their hoary cries. There was room in Jacob only for the dead. The living had to go.
Thoughts of the skulls whirled in his head so loudly they stung his ears. He could resist no longer. Jacob was off the couch and out of the house before he even realized it. The trip across Sudderth was a blur. The evening traffic honked as he barreled heedless through its midst.
Only when he stumbled into his woods and heard the familiar voices drifting through the trees did he stop to focus. Jacob recognized the sound of his friends taking advantage of the privacy provided by the forest. Their talk was punctuated by coughs and raspy laughs.
He heard Chris’s muffled voice. Dee giggled as if on cue while Glenn dragged out his reply, as always. Jacob sat silent, waiting until he was sure Cass wasn’t with them. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew she wasn’t there because Chris was talking to Dee.
To his surprise, Jacob didn’t feel the usual rush of heat when he thought about Chris liking Cass. Any other time, thinking about Chris’s transparent attempts to steal Cass away from him would have angered Jacob, but not now.
There were greater prizes than flesh.
A chill danced spider-like down his spine as the words echoed in his head. They weren’t his. He had the sudden urge to move. Jacob swore under his breath when he realized he’d have to go the long way around the smoke party or risk being seen.