The Ragged

by Brett Schumacher

  “After I finally found the cave he was living in, I decided that I would never let him go. After all, family is everything.”

  The Ragged moved to the side of Celeste’s face and licked her; a long, slow lick up the side of her face where the blood from her head wound had dried. Tears began to roll from her eyes.

  “Now, as you can see, dad developed some, shall we say, interesting perspectives in his time away from society. Perspectives that he managed to share with your grandfather, who took to them like a moth to a flame.” He gestured to Andrew, who had now focused all of his rage on the Ragged.

  “That’s when our little operation came into full bloom. I supplied the old man with sedatives and antibiotics, he did the hunting, and then dad reaped the benefits. Granted, Corvus added his own supernatural flare to the idea, but it turned out to be a mutually beneficial relationship for all three of us. Corvus thought he was helping his crops grow, dad got his yearly feast, and I got to have my father back. Win, win, win...”

  Celeste had heard enough.

  “You’re a monster!” She shouted, causing the Ragged to flinch away from her. “How could you do that? You helped kill all of those innocent girls and for what? So you could be close to your lunatic father?”

  In response, Jax shrugged, flashed that horrid smile of his, and said, “No family’s perfect.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Andrew had never felt such rage in his entire life. His blood boiled as he sat in the living room tied to a chair, watching his childhood best friend confess that he helped his grandfather become part of a serial killer duo. It was a quiet kind of fury, the kind that made the whole world sharper and more focused.

  Riding that wave of focused hatred and anger, Andrew plotted his escape. Jax, that traitorous liar, was high on his sense of superiority, which would make him easier to distract. The Ragged was a wild card to Andrew, and, as much as it disgusted and enraged him to see what that pervert was doing to his wife, that was strategically the best place for him to be. If he stayed preoccupied with Celeste long enough, then Andrew would have a clear shot at Jax.

  Sneaking a quick look over at the base of the couch just a few feet away, Andrew saw exactly what he had hoped he would see. Underneath the middle of the couch, exactly where he had left it, was the handle of the fire poker. There was his weapon. Now Andrew just needed to get out of the ropes.

  He tested the chair under the guise of trying to pull out of the restraints he was in. Pressing his bum arm against the rope was immensely painful, but it sold the part. Jax gave him a smug look as he ‘failed’ to escape. Andrew kept his smirk hidden. It was one of the dining room chairs–the weakest one.

  Memories came to mind of how many times the chair had almost fallen apart underneath Andrew when he leaned it back on its hind legs, and he knew exactly how he could escape. Now it was simply a matter of creating the right opportunity.

  Celeste had finally had enough and started shouting at Jax, which meant now was the right time for Andrew to try and distract him. His cool and casual response to her shouting unnerved Andrew, but it also gave him the perfect place to start.

  “Was it all a lie then?” He asked, genuinely curious about what the answer would be. “Our friendship? Was it all just a game to you?”

  “Was it a game to you?” Jax shot back, stunning Andrew. “I haven’t heard from you in over twenty years. You got out of Dry Creek and never thought twice about me, didn’t you?”

  Andrew didn’t know what to say. That same guilt he had felt in the pharmacy returned, which surprised him. As much as he hated Jax at that moment, at least half of that hate came from the feeling of betrayal, that his childhood best friend had stabbed him in the back. Hadn’t he done the same thing by never reaching out? Granted, Andrew didn’t feel too bad about the circumstances, seeing as Jax was a homicidal maniac, but part of him also felt responsible for that. For leaving him alone.

  “Look,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry I never reached out. And I’m sorry I’ve been a bad friend. But we can change that, right? It’s not too late to mend our friendship. Just untie us, and we’ll all start from square one.”

  Jax laughed a bitter, barking laugh.

  “Oh sure, pal,” he kept laughing. “You and I can start from square one while you spend the rest of your life chained up under the barn. But unfortunately, we’ll have to do that without Celeste. I’m afraid she’s got a dinner date.”

  Andrew’s blood ran cold. He knew that they were in deep trouble, but the reality of what they had planned for Celeste hadn’t yet set in. He needed to do something big, and he needed to do it fast.

  “You spiked that whiskey you gave us, didn’t you?” He asked as that piece of the puzzle snapped suddenly into place.

  His old friend looked surprised.

  “Now how did you put that one together?” He sounded impressed, which gave Andrew a surge of confidence. Every small advantage mattered.

  “Nothing impossible happened to me until I drank some and didn’t pass out,” he said. “But what really has me stumped is how you drugged Celeste.”

  Jax’s classic grin spread across his face again, making him look smugger than ever. This might be Andrew’s chance.

  “Now that one, I’m proud of,” he began to pace across the front of the room, gesturing with the knife and reveling in his genius. “Your girl made things tricky by not drinking, but thankfully I had the solution. It was the inhaler! I would’ve been sunk without that.”

  Now it was Celeste’s turn to speak. “But why drug us at all? What good did that do?”

  “It softened you up and gave dad a chance to scope you guys out. And honestly, it was just fun for me.” He shrugged and starting pacing back toward the door, lost in his story. “We were going to make our move tomorrow night when I came to visit, but we had to move the plan forward a bit when we realized that Celeste was on to us.”

  His back was to the room as he gazed out the small window by the front door, watching the storm.

  “I can’t say I’m going to feel too bad when dad eats her. She’s been a real pain in my–”

  Capitalizing on Jax’s distraction, Andrew charged. The chair they had tied him to was lightweight, a fact that Jax likely failed to consider in his haste to adjust his plans. The Ragged saw Andrew’s attack and moved to intercept, but he was too slow with his limp.

  Andrew turned slightly and lowered his left shoulder before colliding with Jax, sending the two of them crashing to the ground. He kept the momentum of his turn going and maneuvered so that the chair landed back legs first. Pain shot through his weary body as he hit the floor, but it was worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of wood beneath him. His plan had worked.

  He quickly scanned the ground for the knife, spotting it just a few inches away from Jax’s hand. Jax reached out to grab it, but Andrew whipped his leg around. His muddy shoe made contact with the handle and sent it skittering across the floor. Footsteps from behind alerted Andrew to the Ragged’s approach, and he rolled over to see the man ambling toward him.

  What he didn’t expect to see, however, was Celeste pulling her hands free from the rope behind her and escaping the armchair. She stood up like she was about to take on the older man in front of her, but Andrew shouted at her before she made a move.

  “Celeste run!” He cried out. He couldn’t risk her getting hurt. He would take care of this.

  Jax and the Ragged both turned and saw Celeste, who froze momentarily in place before turning and running up the stairs as fast as she could. The Ragged turned back around to face Andrew when Jax called him off.

  “Go get the girl, dad,” he said before kicking Andrew in the right arm, sending a spasm of pain throughout his body. “I’ll take care of the cripple.”

  ***

  Celeste’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran up the stairs. Not knowing where to go, she made a beeline for the best hiding place she could think of: the attic. Her body ached as she tore down the hall
way toward the entrance, listening as the stairs behind her groaned unevenly under the Ragged’s weight.

  She got to the ladder and moved up it as quietly as possible, careful not to alert her pursuer to her position. Tiptoeing across the floor, Celeste found a spot on the far side of the attic that was perfect. She quickly crouched down and nestled herself in between two stacks of boxes.

  There was no way out. Celeste tried to calm her racing thoughts, but nothing would work. He was going to find her. She was going to die.

  Limping footsteps could be heard from the hall below, and Celeste listened in horror as they slowed down and began to move more methodically, like a predator stalking its prey. The sounds moved first to Corvus’s room, where she could hear the door creak open. After a quiet moment, they moved on, going next to Andrew’s room and doing the same thing. The door squeaked softly on its hinges, followed by a small silence.

  The steps paused momentarily by the bathroom door before moving with greater speed toward the attic stairs. He was coming for her.

  Tears rolled down Celeste’s cheeks as she heard the attic stairs creak under the weight of her assailant. She held her breath and listened, straining through the darkness to hear more footsteps.

  None came.

  It was nearly silent in the attic. The only sound came from the rain as it beat steadily on the roof above. Celeste clasped a hand over her mouth and prayed.

  The quiet moment stretched on as more tears tumbled over her hand and fingers, broken only by the distant sounds of struggle below.

  A flash of lightning cut through the darkness of the attic, revealing the form of the Ragged as he loomed over her. A small smile could be seen beneath the thick tangle of hair on his face. Thunder boomed as the man reached down between the boxes and grabbed Celeste by the hair.

  ***

  Andrew howled in pain, clutching his arm and writhing on his back. Jax recovered quickly and started crawling toward the knife, which still sat by the front door a few feet away. Andrew sat up and tried to reach for Jax’s leg, but his hand was kicked away with relative ease.

  Deciding that following Jax so closely would end with him meeting the business end of a blade, Andrew instead scrambled backward and climbed onto his feet. He picked a broken chair leg up off the floor and raised it in defense, just in time for Jax to stand up and lunge at him with the knife.

  Metal collided with wood as the blade glanced off the leg. Andrew batted the attack to the side and used the momentum to swing the piece of wood at Jax’s head. It connected with his temple with a sickening thud and broke in half. Jax’s head snapped to the side as a chunk of the chair leg flew off in the opposite direction.

  Andrew’s old friend jerked his head back and glared at him with malevolent intent before wildly swinging the knife. They were wide, uncontrolled attacks, but they did the trick. Each of Andrew’s dodges backs him up further and further until his legs bumped up against the coffee table behind him and he lost his balance.

  Jax capitalized on his wobbling and shoved him with his free hand, sending Andrew toppling backward onto the old table. It broke in half underneath him, sending folklore books crashing down on Andrew’s face. More pain moved through Andrew than he had ever felt in his life, and the room began to go black.

  His bleary eyes refocused just in time to see Jax bringing the blade down toward his chest.

  ***

  Celeste let out a pained cry as the Ragged yanked her out of the boxes by her hair. She kicked and flailed, struggling against his grip as he dragged her back through the darkness of the attic. The pain was almost too much, and panic was starting to set in as the man limped his way toward the stairs, dragging her along as if she weighed nothing.

  Wait. The limp!

  The epiphany cut through the pain, bringing with it a moment of strange calm and clarity. Celeste quit fighting for just a second and slumped completely. The sudden weight shift caught her captor off guard, and he rocked back just enough to lose his balance. Before he could regain his balance, Celeste planted both feet underneath her and launched herself sideways into his legs.

  The man collapsed, falling on top of her and rolling to the side, the wind getting knocked out of both of them in the process. A whole new volley of pain quickly acquainted itself with Celeste’s body, but she had no time to spare. She rolled onto her knees and stood up to run, only for the Ragged’s grimy hand to reach out and catch her by the ankle, knocking her back down again.

  Celeste kicked free of the man’s hand and got up again, racing toward the only exit. The Ragged recovered quickly and somehow managed to close the gap on his bum leg, planting both hands on Celeste’s back and shoving her. She flew forward and collided with the wall by the window, collapsing in a heap on top of an old dress form with only a moth-bitten veil left hanging on it.

  This time, it was Celeste who recovered quickly. Hearing the Ragged move to block the stairs out of the attic, she got up on a knee and grabbed hold of the dress form. Then, she stood up and whirled around, swinging the wooden form in a wide arc and sending the veil flying into the air. The form cracked against her attacker’s head, whipping it to the side. He swayed for a moment from the shock of the blow before Celeste returned the favor, giving him a hard shove to the chest.

  The man fell backward and tumbled down the stairs into the hallway below, landing in a crumpled heap. His head was turned at an unnatural angle, and a small pool of blood had already started forming underneath him. Celeste stared down at him, amazed at how frail he looked at that moment.

  The old veil drifted gently down through the air, eventually coming to a rest on his still corpse.

  ***

  A well-placed kick saved Andrew’s life. As the knife was coming down toward him, Andrew managed to rock back and get his feet on Jax’s chest. Kicking hard, he bucked the man off of him, howling as the blade gouged a line down his thigh.

  Blood gushed freely out of his new wound, and Andrew scrambled backward until he found himself against the couch. His vision blurred again from the pain as he frantically felt around for the fire poker with his good arm. Jax got back on his feet and brandished the knife.

  “You ever think it would end this way?” Jax asked, his smile never leaving his lips.

  He charged at the easy prey, raising the knife again for the killing blow. Andrew’s hand finally found the handle of the fire poker, and he pulled out from under the couch, thrusting the point upward as Jax came down on him.

  The poker pierced through his gut with ease, and Jax took in a sharp, gasping breath as his momentum came to a sudden stop. He gurgled as he looked down at Andrew with wide eyes, the smile finally gone from his face. Trembling, he still tried to bring the knife down.

  He twisted the poker hard, Jax’s hand spasmed open. The knife clattered harmlessly to the floor beside Andrew, followed soon by Jax.

  “No, I didn’t,” Andrew said as tears rolled freely down his cheeks. “I didn’t.”

  He watched the light leave his friend’s eyes before exhaustion overtook him.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Eight days later, Celeste and Andrew stood somberly in the Dry Creek Pharmacy. He had his arm around her shoulder as they looked up at the empty space where the missing person board used to be. The police had taken it, partly as evidence, but also partly to keep the media circus from finding it. News outlets had descended upon the small Georgia town after the word got out about what had happened there. The two of them had only managed to avoid being hounded by the press because they were holed up in the hospital for so long.

  Staring at the wall, Celeste’s mind walked back through all that had happened. She had come downstairs from the attic to find Andrew unconscious in the living room, and police cars pulling up outside. Their neighbor Elliot had heard the crash and called 911. Jax and his father were both dead by the time the authorities had arrived, so Andrew and Celeste were rushed out to the hospital.

  Andrew was frantic when he woke up the next day, t
elling the police that they needed to get out to the barn immediately. That was when Celeste learned that Andrew had trapped Amelia Barnett in the secret kill shed underneath the barn. Somehow, she had survived down there and was admitted to the hospital as well.

  After they had finally relayed everything they knew to the police, Andrew and Celeste learned that the Ragged’s real name was Coy Crawford and that he had abused Jax all his life then he skipped town one day.

  It took Amelia the better part of a week in the ICU to start speaking again, but she was able to draw a map for the authorities that led them out to the cave that Coy Crawford had been living in for over thirty years. The police were still going through it, but the last Celeste had heard, they had recovered skeletal remains of at least sixteen women out there. More were being found daily.

  The extra-long stay and recovery were by no means enjoyable for Andrew or Celeste, but she did find one point of solace in it all when she met Amelia Barnett’s family. That made it all worth it for her. All of the pain and suffering was worth getting to see the look of relief on Amelia’s mom’s face when she saw that her baby girl was alive and safe.

  The townsfolk had felt bad enough about what had happened to Andrew and Celeste that they pooled enough money together to pay for a rental car to get the couple back to Boston. Celeste was touched by the gesture, unlike Andrew, who balked at it behind closed doors, insisting that they only did it so the two of them would get out of town faster.

  Everything they had gone through, hardened Andrew, and Celeste was nervous that she might never get to see the fun-loving and lighthearted version of him ever again. She was undoubtedly changed by their experiences too, but she had the luxury of at least being an outsider. Either way, there was going to be a long road to recovery for both of them.

  And now there they stood, staring at a now-empty wall that had spent decades displaying the ghoulish trophies of three twisted men, marveling at how impossible it all seemed. How neither of them could believe the amount of concentrated evil they had seen in such a short time.