Judas

by Caleb Meeks

  I threw my arms open in exhaustion. “Look, if you’re going to shoot me, just do it. I won’t be participating in your pointless little game of wits.”

  “Shoot you? Judas, please, I’m not that crude.” He smiled. “I at least want to get my hands on you first. What fun is there without that?”

  “Then get on with it.” I said, tired of the man’s incessant speaking. It was clear he had fantasized what he’d say in the moment.

  “As you wish.” He replied.

  He moved towards me. I reached out and dropped the knife in my hand a few feet in front of me, then stepped out of the pathway of the door so that there was a wall behind me. He quickly connected with me, shoving me up against the wall. His hand wrapped around my throat. I could have fought back, but I choose not to. He tightened the grip around my throat and pulled me forward towards him, then slammed me against the wall even harder than he had before. Again, the impact rang though my body, but I didn’t give into it. His fist connected with my face, splitting my lip. Compared to the other injuries, that one barely phased me. He used the grip on my neck and flung me onto the ground. He laid his boot into my chest three or four times, just to prove his superiority. Then, he rolled me onto my back and climbed on top of me. He leaned down low so that his face was just above me, and he reached up and grabbed my chin. His chest was a few inches above mine.

  “I expected more.” He slapped me across the face. Adding insult to injury, I suppose. “Any message you want returned to your good buddy?”

  I smiled. “Yeah. Hire a more intellectual crew next time.” The cockiness dropped from his face immediately. I plunged the knife, which I had intentionally dropped on the ground, into his chest, and his eyes grew wide in shock. He slowly looked down at his chest and saw the knife sticking out of it, dripping blood onto my chest. I pulled the knife from him, and blood oozed out of his mouth. I shoved him off me. He laid there, gently convulsing, but I paid it little attention. I just laid there on the ground, becoming more and more aware of the injuries all across my body. It was a relief to be able to just lay on the ground, unafraid of someone walking through the door with a gun at the ready. I could just sit and breathe.

  I needed to get my phone, though. I needed Dominic more than ever.

  Chapter Sixteen.

  I lay there on the cold ground, watching the sun slowly rise above the horizon. For once, the feeling of the break of day matched how I felt. Even though there were bodies throughout my property, and I knew it was just the beginning, I finally felt like I was fighting for something, finally fighting for myself.

  The body of the leader lay there next to me, completely drained of any and all life. I had watched it trickle out of his eyes as the knife stuck into his chest. Unfortunately, I was right. There was blood on my hands tonight.

  I struggled to sit up. My stomach muscles burned, and my ribs ached. There were probably fractures from when he put me on the ground and kicked me. I knew, though, that the only way I could take him was to make him think he had the edge. My body was fatigued to the point that a head on fight might not have ended the same way. Once I sat up, I got a better view of everything that happened to my body. It was hard to determine where my blood ended, and the blood from them started. All I knew was that I was covered from head to toe.

  My phone was still in the kitchen. I stumbled to my feet, using the wall to steady me. Blood from the gashes on my hands smeared along the wall, but with all the other damage, I barely noticed the pain. Bracing myself with tables and walls, I made my way into the kitchen. The assassin in the room that lead to the backyard was slumped on the floor, the sun illuminating the severity of the gashes on his face and neck. I averted my eyes, surprisingly bothered by the dead eyes that seemed to be staring right through me.

  I’d never noticed just how bright the house was. The sun shone in through all the windows; there wasn’t an ounce of shadow left. Normally, I would’ve appreciated the darkness more, but now, the light brought that feeling of comfort. I braced myself on the counter and grabbed my phone. I had left it on the counter next to the sink the night before.

  I swiped the screen open and found Dominic’s number. I gripped the counter for more support and pushed the call button.

  After more than a few rings, he picked up. “Judas?” He asked, clarifying who was calling him.

  “Yeah.” I said, the act hurting my lungs.

  “What’s going on?” I could tell he had just been asleep, as it was oozing out of his tone. “It’s really early, what’s up?”

  “Sorry. Something happened, I don’t want to get into it right now, but can you meet me at my building?”

  That shook him from his drowsiness. “Yeah, I can get there as soon I can. What’s going on? Are you okay?” I could hear him hastily getting out of bed.

  “I’m okay. I’ll see you there.” I hung up. I knew that if I didn’t close the conversation down, he would have continued pushing for information, and if he knew what happened too early, it would have been much harder to keep him focused. I could have had him come here, but it was no longer hospitable. He’d surely be sending more men to the house once he realized they weren’t responding.

  I grabbed my keys and hobbled to the car in the driveway. I could have taken the time to clean myself off, but I was in the mindset to get out. Blood was spattered across the front of the house from the guard that was out there. I turned the key in the ignition and took off down the road. I needed to get away from that house as quickly as possible.

  ▪

  Newman sat there, staring at the crowd. The crowd of people behind him didn’t even bother to give him attention. Normally, news crews would be hunting him down to try and get more details, but they were too busy digesting the news he’d just given them. The faces in the crowd were all filled with a mixture of confusion, shock, and even some disdain. Everyone held Hank Barnaby to a standard of goodness in their minds, and until now, it had always been met. But now it was out that he was not nearly the man the cameras had shown, and people were quickly changing their minds about him.

  It was impossible for Newman to not feel hopeless about the case. It was becoming increasingly more obvious to him that something big was going on right under his nose, and the case that he was working was far more than he originally thought. It was far bigger than he thought it was, and it wasn’t even close to being brought to the surface. All he knew was that something inside was telling him there was more to this case than met the eye.

  He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. He decided to head to the station. Even though Cadman wasn’t there, it was still the place he thought would be the best to be. With everything on his mind, he robotically drove to the station. His mind took over, directing him, and he focused on the things running through his head. It was a melting pot of hopeless thoughts, game plans, and wild theories. He knew he was being crazy, but this case had a way of getting inside your head.

  The station looked so peaceful on the outside. It really was a beautiful building and did not measure up to the horrors that went on inside. There were murderers, murder victims, and utter hopelessness just inside the brick walls. I guess it just proves that sometimes the outside doesn’t always reflect what’s on the inside.

  He walked into the building and was immediately reminded what it was like without the walls on the outside. There weren’t many in the building, but that would change soon. The Barnaby case would invade, but for the moment, like the eye of a hurricane, it was mostly calm.

  The few in the building didn’t give him much attention. One officer complimented his handling of the Barnaby press release, but other than that, they remained working. The breaking news from the case seemed to have rattled them as well.

  He walked into Cadman’s office, which had become something of a joint office for both men. He took off the blazer he was wearing and draped it on the chair next to him. His shoulder was beginning to ache again, which meant it was probably worse than he thought it was.
He took the white shirt off and set it on top of the blazer on the chair. Looking down at the shoulder, Newman saw the colorful abstract painting his shoulder had become. There was a purple splotch on the front of his shoulder, and it was swollen. He could still move it normally, which he took as a sign that it wasn’t broken. It hurt fairly badly, especially now that the pain killer was wearing off.

  He had left the door open, and Cadman suddenly walked into the room. “Hey.” He said as he took a step into the room.

  Newman startled, not expecting anyone to enter the room, and definitely not expecting it to be Cadman. “Sorry, didn’t expect you to be here.” He quickly tried to grab his shirt, but Cadman noticed his shoulder before he could cover it.

  “Woah, are you okay Matt?” He said, locking his eyes on the shoulder.

  Matt dropped his eyes for a moment, hoping that his boss wasn’t going to going to notice. It was an explanation he didn’t want to have to go into. “Yeah, I’m fine. Had an accident in the gym. That’s all.”

  “To me, an accident in the gym to is pulling a muscle you didn’t mean to pull. Did you get that checked out?” He walked closer to Newman and gripped his arm, trying to feel it for any potential damage.

  Matthew winced, but didn’t try to pull away. “No. It still moves fine, it’s just sore…and purple.”

  Cadman laughed. “So you’re one of those people?”

  “What kind of person is that?”

  “One of those people that wouldn’t go to the doctor unless their arm actually fell off?”

  Matthew laughed, trying not to squirm from the pain of Cadman digging around in his arm. “I guess.” They were both quiet for a minute. “By the way, why should I be letting you dig around in my arm? What makes you qualified to determine if I’m going to lose the arm or not?”

  “Before I joined the force, I was in training to be a trauma medic. Even though I didn’t carry it all the way through, I still picked up a thing or two.”

  “Why’d you stop?” Matthew asked, now ignoring the pain.

  “I don’t know. I guess my priorities changed. I had just gotten married when I was starting med training, and it was taking up all my time. And I decided that instead of putting people back together, I wanted to try and keep them from falling apart. Who knew that changing jobs would drive my marriage apart more than the time I was spending in med school.” Both men were quiet. “Sorry, didn’t mean to go there.” Cadman took his hands off Newman’s arm, ushering a sigh of relief from him. “Well, it looks like you’re fine. If I was actually a doctor, I’d push for what really happened, but since I’m just acting as the educated friend, I won’t. Somehow, you managed to get one of the most gnarly bruises I’ve ever seen but didn’t do any internal damage. Try and be a little more careful next time, though, and give it a rest for a few days.”

  Matthew jokingly saluted. “Yes, sir.” They both laughed. He grabbed the white shirt from the chair, and slowly slipped it back on. “Hey, didn’t I tell you to go home?”

  “Yeah, but when do I ever listen?”

  “Seriously, why are you here?” Matthew said, remembering the man’s exhausted disposition at the crime scene just a couple hours ago.

  “I came back here, and crashed in a back room for about an hour. After that, I couldn’t sleep anymore. I couldn’t justify sleeping while we had just gotten such a big break in the case. My mind was just running so much, I couldn’t quiet it down enough to sleep. I’ll be fine. It’s my job, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Matthew smiled. Cadman didn’t look as exhausted as before, but still looked like he could use a steady night’s sleep. It was obvious that he had a lot of himself in this case. It had taken a lot from him, and once Matthew realized that, he understood the man’s willingness to give so much to it. “I’m glad, then, cause it’s had my mind going pretty hard too. Something about it just doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “You could talk to one of the psychologists on sight if you need to, you don’t have to act like it wasn’t a gruesome scene. I’d totally understand.”

  “While I appreciate the concern, I wasn’t meaning mentally. It was definitely a gruesome scene, but that’s not what I meant.”

  “Oh, well, what did you mean?” The man’s ears perked up.

  Newman walked over to the door, and shut it, along with the blinds. “Sorry, security sake. Everyone out there is on high alert about this case, and I don’t want any more getting out if we can. It’s bad enough that the whole station knows about it, but it would be even worse if the media got ahold of it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Newman finished what he was doing, and then returned to face the man standing in the middle of the room. “I don’t really know how to put it into words, but it was the obvious evidence that just didn’t make sense.”

  “What does that mean, Matt?”

  “The big, bloody Judas on the window. It wasn’t right. Something about it just didn’t seem to be right.”

  “Okay, still being vague, bud. Is it just a hunch, or is there something to back it up?”

  “I guess it’s just a hunch, or a gut feeling. It’s just…we’ve spent hours and hours sitting in this room staring at crime scenes that look just like that one. But, we have never seen Judas be so overt at making his involvement known. It strikes me as odd that, suddenly, he’s just decided to come out and make his M.O. so much different than he has in the past six years. I mean, in the course of a couple weeks, we just run into him in a building on a random call, and now this happens. I can’t help but think that this is far too sloppy for a criminal like him. He doesn’t seem like the kind of crime boss that puts his stamp on anything.”

  Cadman digested what he had said. “As much as I want to tell you that you’re crazy, I can’t say you don’t have a point. Judas has never been the killer who lets us know he does things, we just know. What does that mean, though?”

  “I don’t know, Leo. I don’t know what to believe anymore. So far, this case has shown me that things are never what we think they are. I don’t know what to say, but all I can say is that I think this case is a lot bigger than we thought it was, and I think it’s just starting to show us how big it really is.”

  “For the world’s sake, I hope you’re wrong. Unfortunately, I don’t think you are.” Cadman said. Both men stayed quiet for a minute, processing everything. Cadman’s phone beeped, pulling both men from their stupor. He pulled the phone from his pocket, and checked the notification. His eyes grew wide.

  “What’s the matter?” Newman asked, noticing the new emotion come across his partner’s face.

  “You know how we just said how bad it would get if the media got ahold of the picture?”

  “You’re kidding me.” Newman said, already knowing what the notification was about. Cadman turned his phone around to Newman. The screen showed a picture of a news image. The headline was still on the Barnaby murder, but somehow, they had a picture of the window. It was slightly grainy, but it was still readable. “How did this happen?”

  “I don’t know, but someone leaked this to the media hours ago. It’s everywhere.”

  “This is going to get really bad, isn’t it?” Newman asked.

  “Really bad, and really fast.”

  ▪

  I tried my best to ignore the pain while driving down the road. Every part of me was screaming its disapproval, but I pushed the voices away as best I could. Now that it was done, the questions started pouring in. How did they find me? How long had they been following me? Were they following me at all, or did they just know where I lived? It was a deafening chorus of questions I didn’t have the answer to. The fear that I felt was getting tiring. How humans existed under that kind of constant pressure, I didn’t know.

  I drove down the roads, keeping an over reactive eye on everything around me. It turned up the senses I’d developed over the past years to the highest they’ve ever been. I needed to get where I was going, but I also needed t
o make sure no one was going to follow me to it. That meant that any car that followed behind me for more than a few minutes had to be left behind.

  Eventually though, I made it to the entrance of the facility. It was a large, unassuming industrial style building that I had obtained for no reason other than because everyone else had one. That, and it was a nice place to escape to. Dominic insisted on the security crew. I didn’t see the point, but I listened so he would stop pestering me about it. They weren’t there all the time, and to be honest, I didn’t really know what their schedule looked like, since I barely paid attention to them.

  I circled around the area a few times, just to make sure no one else was around, and once I determined it was safe, I went in. Dominic’s car was parked right on the inside, but out of sight. I parked next to him, ensuring neither car could be seen from the outside. I turned the car off, and got out of the car.

  Dominic, as far as I could tell, wasn’t around, which meant he was probably waiting inside the building. I crossed the open concrete to the hallway I walked out of to meet him when all of this was just starting. It brought back a feeling of nostalgia, but was quickly replaced by the fearful reality I was living in. Once I stepped into the cover of the hallway, Dominic entered the hallway through the door that led to my office. His face showed immediate relief to see me, but was quickly replaced by fear and concern. He looked me up and down, seeing the blood covering my skin and clothes.