by Zach Lamb
Bobby spit blood in his face, and Mike released his hold on him. Lightning bolts of pain shot through Mike’s injured thigh when Bobby kicked him. Mike bent over and pushed himself up off the ground.
When he turned to face Bobby, he was gone. He sensed Bobby behind him, but too late. Pieces of glass bounced off the wood floor, and Mike fell to the ground. The thick base from a vase fell in front of his eyes and was the last thing he saw before everything went black.
***
When Mike came to, the back of his head throbbed, and his vision was blurry. The last thing he remembered was Bobby punching him. The realization of where he was snapped his fuzzy head in focus and caused him to panic. He tried to move but was unable.
Mike bounced up and down trying to set himself free, but he was sitting in a chair and couldn’t get up. He looked down and tried to focus on what kept him to the chair. His vision swirled and finally sharpened enough for him to tell his forearms were duct taped to the arms of the chair. Duct tape wrapped around his ankles cut the circulation off to his feet, and they tingled with tiny pinpricks. Thick bands of tape wrapped around his chest, holding him to the back of the chair.
Mike struggled against the tape, but couldn’t move. There must have been a full roll used on his chest. He was only wearing his boxers, but it surprised him that Bobby left his mouth uncovered. Either he wasn’t afraid of anybody hearing him yell or he wanted to talk.
“Hey. Hey, you son of a bitch. Let me out of here. Where are my clothes?”
Bobby walked into the room from behind him and laid his hand on Mike’s shoulder.
“You’re finally awake. I dozed off on the couch waiting for you. I wasn’t sure you were ever going to wake up. I hit you pretty hard. And then,” Bobby laughed. “And then I dropped you when I was trying to get you downstairs. You must have hit your head on every stair on the way down. Definitely could have been a funny home video moment. I should have just left you upstairs and brought the chair to you. I’ll remember that for next time.”
“You’re sick,” Mike said.
“Weird. I don’t feel sick. Anyway, why were you following me?”
This guy thought he was cute. Mike hated people like him. They always thought they were so smart. If he weren’t taped to the chair, Bobby wouldn’t think he was so smart.
“You knew I was following you?”
“Of course I did. That’s why I made so many stops on the way home. I thought it would be funny to make you wait around for me. Your car isn’t exactly inconspicuous either.”
Mike fought to free himself from the tape.
“I’m going to kill you,” Mike said through clenched teeth.
“That’s highly unlikely,” Bobby said, and laughed. “I can see my fence attacked you. Really got a hold of your jeans. Seriously though, you didn’t have to cut my screen. I left the front door unlocked so you could just come in without all the sneaking around. I bet you didn’t even try the door.”
This guy was getting off on playing games with people’s lives, and Mike wasn’t going to let Bobby use him for his amusement.
“Why were you at Emily’s funeral?”
“To console the family and pay my respects. Why else would one go to a funeral?”
“You didn’t even know her or her mother. You were there to mock them.”
Bobby stepped back and gave Mike a tisk, tisk shake of his head. Mike hated him even more.
“Judging from her stories, I wouldn’t think you’d care why I was there. They were all surprised you even had the nerve to show up. I’m done listening to this. You’re the one tied to the chair. I’ll ask the questions. Why were you following me?”
Mike tried to thrust himself forward but barely moved. Bobby picked up a knife from the table and walked to Mike. He put the blade on the back of Mike’s wrist and with a quick slash cut him. Blood rushed to the top of the cut and flooded the sides. Mike gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t give this sick fuck the satisfaction of screaming. Bobby moved to the other wrist and did the same thing.
“That all you got? You’re hardly cutting me. It’s more like a scratch.”
“It’s not wise to provoke me. Now tell me what I want to know.”
Bobby stuck the tip of the knife into the wound and slowly pushed it deeper into his arm. Mike strangled the scream and bit his lip. His head swirled, and he felt lightheaded when the blade finally hit bone. Bobby worked the knife slowly across the bone while looking Mike in the eyes.
“I saw. I saw what you did.”
“Well, that’s a start. I thought you were going to pass out on me. That looked like it really hurt,” he said, and removed the knife from Mike’s arm. “I know you’re not talking about the funeral again, so what did you see me do?”
“I saw you kill … Danielle.”
Bobby slashed both of Mike’s legs below the tape line and backed away. His face darkened.
“Nobody was in the apartment. How did you see me?” Bobby asked and put the blade back to Mike’s arm.
“I was in the parking lot. I saw what you did after you left.”
Mike didn’t want to tell him anything. He felt like he was betraying Danielle, and he needed to remain silent. But Bobby wouldn’t allow that to happen.
“Oh. So you didn’t actually see me do it,” Bobby walked a circle around the chair. “For all you know, I found her first and ran out and then you found her. Hey, are you the little bastard that put the dents in my truck?”
“Yeah, that was me.”
Mike smiled.
Bobby backhanded Mike and slashed him across the shoulder.
“Ahhh. Why do you keep cutting me like that?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Mike tried to stand up again.
“I know you killed her.”
“I didn’t want to kill her. She made me do it. She told me she wouldn’t tell the police about Emily’s body in the woods. Then she did, and they took her away from me.”
“You sick fuck. Danielle didn’t call the police. I did.” It was Mike’s turn to laugh. “It was me.”
Bobby stepped back and dropped the knife on the table. Mike twisted his wrist, and the tape gave a little. If he kept him off balance talking about Danielle, he could get free and finish the job he came here to do.
“No. It had to be Danielle. She was the only other person who knew where she was.”
Mike leaned as far forward as the tape would allow.
“I was dating Emily, you idiot. When she didn’t come home, I went looking for her and found her car at the park. I called the police. They searched the woods and found her. You killed Danielle for no reason.”
“No,” Bobby screamed and picked up the knife. He stomped to Mike and slashed his other shoulder. “You’re lying to me. It was her.”
“No … It wasn’t her. You killed her for no reason. She didn’t deserve to die.”
Bobby slashed Mike right above the hip on both sides of his abdomen and plunged the blade into the arm of the chair. He ran out of the room and down the hallway, out the back door. If Bobby kept cutting him, Mike would pass out from the pain and loss of blood. It would be all over if he passed out again.
Mike twisted his arms and fingers, trying to reach the knife, but it was too far from his fingertips. He wiggled back and forth and tried to loosen the tape enough for him to lean over and grab the handle between his teeth.
The tape stretched and gave him a little more room to lean forward. He almost had the handle in his mouth when back door slammed shut and Bobby stomped down the hallway. There was a loud vibrating noise that he knew he’d heard before, but couldn’t place quite place it.
“I hope you didn’t think you got to me and I was going to run out and leave you here to figure out how to escape,” Bobby said.
“I didn’t think I’d be that lucky. Why don’t you come around here and face me?”
Mike said it, but he didn’t want to see what Bobby went outside to get.
&n
bsp; “Gladly. Earlier you asked why I was cutting you. I know you asked in jest, but I’ll tell you. All of those cuts represent where I’m going to cut your body into pieces. I thought you’d like to know in case you faint from the pain.”
Bobby stepped in front of Mike and revved the small motor of the reciprocating saw. The last thing Mike felt before he passed out was the saw cutting into the bone of his right ankle.
Chapter Twenty
The plastic bag plopped in the soft mud beside the lake and sucked back in when Bobby picked it up. He worked through the night and pushed his muscles as they protested each trip. The sun started to rise behind him and exhaustion from no sleep and his fight with Mike, while he was both living and dead, was setting in. Five bags and four trips later, all of Mike sat beside the shore. Thirteen-gallon kitchen trash bags were not the optimal bag for carrying body parts. Next time he was at the store, he would be sure to pick up a box of lawn bags, in case this situation arose again.
The final trip was the worst. He cursed himself for saving the heaviest bag for last as he slid and tripped his way down the hill while Mike’s torso bounced and slammed off of his back. Triple bagging all the parts to keep the bag from ripping on a tree branch and spilling Mike’s organs all over the forest floor was the best decision he made through this entire process. That would be a big mess to clean up before he could go to sleep. Waste disposal was not his strong suit.
Now, he sat on Emily’s tree, watching geese glide across the water for their first swim of the day. He tried to force his eyelids from closing, but only managed to move them halfway. The trash bags piled at his swinging feet needed to be disposed of before somebody happened to walk through the woods and find him asleep on a tree surrounded by enough evidence to put him away for life. That would be hard to explain.
He jumped off the tree and stumbled to the trash bags. The first one he picked up was the last one he brought down. There was no way he’d save it until the end again. Bobby swung the bag back and forth to get enough momentum to carry the bag far enough into the water. He leaned back and propelled himself and the bag at the lake. Momentum from the release carried him forward, and he almost followed the bag into the muddy water.
Thank you for taking care of him for me. I was hoping karma would come back around and take him out.
He bent over and put his hands on his knees. Water bugs skated across the surface of the lake. Ripples from the splash only rocked them faster toward their destination. Bobby spit into the water to divert them, but they only altered their course and skirted around it.
He closed his eyes and rocked back and forth on his heels.
I don’t want to sound completely ungrateful, but why did you bring him back to my tree? At least he didn’t die here too, I guess.
The limit of what his body would do before resting rapidly approached. There was only one thing that would get him going enough to finish the job. He kicked the bags around until he found the one containing Mike’s feet and jeans. He untied the knot, reached inside and pulled out the jeans and fished around in both pockets until he found Mike’s cell phone.
Why are you calling somebody else? I am here with you. I should be enough to keep you company. You don’t need anybody else.
He dialed a number he now knew by heart.
“Burns.”
“Hello, Detective. I hope all is well. I haven’t talked to you since I helped you out the other day.”
Bobby put the phone between his ear and shoulder and leaned against the tree for leverage to retie the garbage bag.
“You kidnapped my daughter. That’s not helping me out. Now, I’ve had to send my family away until I catch you, so you don’t harm them again.”
“Harm is a bit of an overstatement, I think,” Bobby said, and threw the bag he was holding into the lake.
“I’m not going to waste my time talking to you when I should be looking for you.”
Detective Burns answered the phone, pissed. Either Bobby was getting to him or something else was going on. Bobby doubted the alone time at home would agitate him so much.
“I would think that talking to me is the best and only way you have of finding me, but I’m not the detective. I’m only the bad guy.”
“You’re calling from a different number. Does that mean I’ll be getting a call about another dead girl soon?”
And he refocused. Talking to the Detective Burns rejuvenated Bobby. He felt like he was talking to a best friend he never had. He picked up the bag containing Mike’s arms and threw it into the lake.
“No. No body today. I’ve hit a bit of a rough patch lately.”
“What’s that noise? What are you doing?”
“Oh, just taking out the trash,” Bobby said, and threw another bag into the lake.
“If you haven’t killed anybody, why are you calling me?”
“I never said I hadn’t killed anybody. Just that you wouldn’t get called about another body soon. Like I was saying, it’s been a little rough lately. A lot of stuff on my mind.”
Bobby hopped back on the fallen tree and swung his legs.
“Excuse me if I don’t give a shit about your rough patch or what’s on your mind.”
“I’ve missed this. This banter between us. I know you care. It makes me feel better.”
Two bags remained on the bank, but he wasn’t in as big of a hurry as earlier. Nobody would walk down here, and the police finished their investigation. Not much to investigate with a suicide. The ‘why’ is only important to the family and friends left behind.
“Well, tell me where you are. I’ll come over, and we can talk in person. Maybe that will make both of us feel better.”
“I’m where it all began,” Bobby said.
“So you’re at the Martin house?”
Bobby pulled a piece of bark from the tree and threw it at the lake, but it fell short of the water. Of course he would think of Rachel first. That was where he and Bobby didn’t properly meet, but first learned of each other’s existence. It was a nice thought, but brought up memories of what he lost with Emily. Burns and his partner took her away from him. Maybe Burns wasn’t much of a best friend. He wasn’t even a fair-weather friend.
“No. I’m where I first met her. You know, everything was going great, and then you had to find her and take her away from me.”
“Take who away from you? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Bobby jumped off the tree and landed in Emily’s spot.
“Emily,” Bobby yelled. “She was mine, and then somebody told you where she was and I had to take care of them.”
“Did you hurt them? I know you want to tell me. Go ahead. You’ll feel better once you have it off your chest.”
This phone call started off the right way, but Burns turned it around and had Bobby furious enough to lose his cool. He needed to calm himself before he let out something he couldn’t take back.
“Your empathy is overwhelming, Detective. But I’m too smart to fall for that. I took care of the person I thought it was. I killed somebody who meant a lot to me, but she didn’t deserve it. Then I took it out on some guy in a parking lot. Then somebody broke into my house and tried to kill me. So, you can see why I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“Sounds like a tremendous burden you’re shouldering there. Why do you think she didn’t deserve to die, but all of these other women did?”
Logic. He wanted to use logic to confuse Bobby, but Detective Burns would never understand. No amount of logic that Burns could comprehend would ever be enough to grasp what Danielle meant to him. Even after her perceived betrayal. People don’t come by something so pure and emotional every day. Their connection wasn’t easily severed. But then, Emily came into his life and changed everything. The bond between him and Emily transcended what most people thought a relationship could be. The two could never coexist.
“They were chosen. She was not. She was pure and not meant for the burden of being Emily’s vessel.” Bobby took a de
ep breath. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were starting to like our conversations too.”
“Hardly. The only reason I put up with it is because I’m hoping you will give me something I can use to catch you. What do you mean by vessels for Emily? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I see. Well, if that’s how you truly feel, I’ll leave you with one last question to think about until we speak again. If you’re not enjoying this just a little bit, why haven’t you told anybody that I’ve been calling you?”
Bobby ended the phone call and started to put the phone in his pocket, but thought better of it. He leaned back and threw it into the middle of the lake. As an afterthought, he tossed the remaining bags into the water.
He turned and looked toward the peak of the daunting hill. Under normal circumstances it would be a relatively easy hike to the top, but after the night he just had, he would have to fight his way to the top. His muscles protested as he forced himself to move. He bent toward the top to add any momentum he could. Each tree he came to, he used like a walking stick and pulled himself up.
Halfway up the hill he stopped and leaned against the trunk of a large pine. The woods were thinner here, and he could feel a slight breeze. He closed his eyes and leaned into the wind. After a few minutes, he had to start moving again or if he continued to rest like this, he would end up asleep on the forest floor.
When he reached the top of the hill, he stumbled to his Bronco and fell into the front seat. Originally, he loaded up the bags containing Mike into his vehicle and drove them to the end of the cul-de-sac so nobody would see him walking back and forth to the house for more pieces. Now, he was glad he drove down the steep hill because he was afraid he would not be able to make it back to his house at this point.
The last burst of energy flowed through his body as he climbed the steps to his house. He walked with heavy feet into the dining room, mindful enough to step around the puddles of Mike’s blood that ran off the sheets of plastic he put on the floor. He grabbed his dishes from the table and took them to the kitchen sink. Cleaning up after Mike would have to wait until he woke up. The walk up the stairs felt like the hill all over again. He collapsed on his bed.