Crossing Bedlam (13 page)

“Is there an antidote?”

“She always keeps some on her in case she ingests the stuff.”

“Good. Then get out of the booth and follow me to my jeep.”

“My gang won’t-”

Pulling an umbrella out of her pocket and opening it, Cassidy hops onto the table and briefly holds the lighter up to one of the sprinklers. Sensing that something bad is about to happen, the dogs rush out of the door and scramble into their tent. Brown water that the gang mistakes for sewage covers the crowd and they hold their breath in anticipation of a foul stench. When a few of them swallow the liquid, they realize it tastes like chocolate and relax. Some of them laugh at the prank until they get a closer look at the thickening rain. A rainbow sheen is on the growing puddles, which reminds them of an oil slick. With Cassidy’s lighter constantly turning on and off under the umbrella, the bikers wonder if they are now standing in the middle of a deadly fire hazard. Tension runs high and they head for the door, stopping only when Jackman shouts from them to return.

“Chocolate is poison to dogs,” Cassidy states, smiling at how Lloyd would be proud of her comment. With a small grunt, she kicks the damaged window out and hops onto the frame to avoid walking through the mixture. “I’m taking your boss on a road trip. As long as he behaves, nothing will happen. My business is really with this Emily. Does anybody have a problem with that?”

A sea of shaking heads answers her question and she steps out of the restaurant, turning to aim her handgun at Jackman. She holds up a piece of paper with the locations of the grenades and bends down to put it under a rock. The gang leader climbs after the young woman and follows her around to the back where the jeep is waiting. She tosses him a garbage bag and clean clothes, keeping him at gunpoint until he has changed.

“Was all of this really necessary?” Jackman asks while getting into the passenger seat. He is startled by the amount of knives on the floor at his feet. “It seems very excessive.”

“I just had this car fixed and cleaned. I don’t want you making a mess in it,” Cassidy says as she peels out of the parking lot and heads north. Handing her new driving buddy a map and taking a soda out of the cooler behind her, she watches the mirrors for signs of pursuit. “If you mean my performance then it was really necessary. One woman against an entire gang? That’s just insane. In fact, I’m surprised it worked out so perfectly. Any one of you idiots could have killed me and simply searched around for the grenades. My mom always said you can do a lot with confidence, so I think I did her proud. Now tell me where we’re going and I’ll let you pick the music since you’ve been such a wonderful host.”

*****

After leaving Jackman at the edge of town, Cassidy follows his directions to the first house that he said Lloyd may be kept in. Not wanting to be seen, she parks her jeep several blocks away in an alley and packs only a few small weapons. She doubts a crazy housewife will give her much trouble, but a knife and a handgun makes her feel more comfortable about the unknown. A blinking light reflects in her side view mirror, which draws Cassidy’s attention to the window of the lingerie store across the street. Grabbing her binoculars, she checks out the object and curses at the sight of active explosives. The blonde slips out of the jeep and inches to the mouth of the alley to get a look at other buildings. Each one has a bomb that is either big enough to level the structure or connected to a few tanks of propane.

“That crazy bitch must have the entire town set to explode,” Cassidy mutters, putting her beloved handgun back in the car. One of the last things she wants to do is miss a shot and start a chain reaction, especially if the gas mains beneath the ground are still active. “Maybe Jackman was right and I should leave, mom. Lloyd is only a serial killer I busted out of jail to act as a bodyguard. So far I’ve been having to save his ass more times than he saves mine. He’s violent, psychotic, deranged, obnoxious, and . . . the only person I currently have in this world who can physically back me up in a fight. You’re right, mom. I brought him into our world and I have to be responsible for him even if he leaves a trail of bodies in his wake. No, I won’t become like him. Yes, I’m getting meaner around the edges, but I have reasons for what I do. Give me some credit, mom. I didn’t blow the Border Collies up, which is a show of restraint. Ugh, I really am broken if I’m talking to a locket. Then again, I’ve never been on my own before. Okay. Stop wasting time, Cassidy, and get moving.”

Rushing across the empty street, she ducks into an alley and heads for the buildings on the next block. She keeps running and scales a gate to get into the backyard of a one-story house that shares a chain link fence with her target. Cassidy can already tell that something is wrong when she climbs over the fence and sees that all the curtains have been drawn. Slipping through the patio door, she is met by the horrible smell of rotting food and bleach that is masking the scent of a fresh corpse. Praying that the body is not Lloyd, she carefully avoids stepping in splotches of moist blood on the tiled floor and keeps an ear out for movement.

Cassidy finds the trucker’s brutally murdered body sprawled on the floor, his head bashed in by a golf club. A pair of kitchen knives are still plunged into the man’s chest and she can see at least twenty other wounds from multiple weapons. The man has a few strands of black hair in his clenched hand, which Cassidy finds under a table on the other side of the room from the rest of him. Noticing a note on the counter, the young woman creeps along the wall and tries to take a peek. She does not bother to read the message when she sees that the ink is still wet and stops moving in case Emily is nearby.

The sound of someone leaving the house causes Cassidy to draw her knife and tiptoe toward the backyard. Even though she knows she should run, the tense blonde crawls behind a trashcan that is on the other side of the chain link fence. The container keeps her hidden while giving her a clear view of the street. Her heart beating from excitement and fear, she watches Emily walk away in a blood-soaked dress that used to be white. The woman strips off her ruined clothes and goes into another house, which Cassidy knows is not the other one on Jackman’s list. It dawns on her that Emily might be using every building in town, which makes her think she can use the jeep to find Lloyd and escape without a fight. Doubt needles her mind, but she pushes it away for the chance to get out of this mess and continue on her journey.

Still trying not to make a noise, Cassidy returns to the jeep and takes the long away around to a two-story house, a jockey statue grinning at her from the lawn. Parking in front of a mailbox with Lloyd’s last name on it, the blonde shudders at the creepiness of the situation. Jogging up the walkway, she has a strange sense of nostalgia when a memory of visiting her friends pops into her mind. It is strong enough to nearly make her ring the bell, but she shakes her head clear of the dangerous urge. Not wanting to spook Lloyd and get blindly jumped by the captured serial killer, Cassidy opens the front door and gently closes it behind her.

“For fucks sake, Lloyd!” she shouts when she sees the naked man lounging on a leather couch and watching an action movie. Even when he moves a pillow over his groin, the young woman is sure the image will linger. “Toss on some pants and come with me. Emily is fucking crazy. She takes husbands with last names because she’s some serial black widow bride. If you stay, she’ll either kill you or lock you in here to starve to death. Oh, and she has the entire town set to explode. Stop gawking at me and put more than socks on. You could have done this while I talked to you.”

“But I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack if I step outside,” Lloyd replies, grabbing a nearby pair of silk boxers. Hopping over to the television, he grabs a small stack of movies and tucks them under his arm. “Come to think of it, why didn’t you tell me about this kind of condition? Toxic booze seems like it would be a common threat. I keep you alive to guide me around . . . and I owe you. Not like we’re friends or anything.”

“Condition?” Cassidy asks before remembering what Jackman had told her. She kicks a nearby table, which causes her companion to stop putting on his pants and a bland-colored hoodie. “Fucking hell, I forgot about the poison. Emily has been dosing you with something that screws up your adrenal glands. It’s like the slightest bit of excitement gets you going and it’s easy to push you over the edge. She has the antidote on her, but I was so busy trying to sneak around town that I forgot I needed to get my hands your fake wife. I swear to god you better not be imagining what I think you’re imagining, Tenay.”

“So she would have killed me with sex?”

“Emily butchered the trucker with a knife and golf club.”

“Well he was gay and probably didn’t fall for all this.”

“Then I don’t know how she’d kill you, but do you really want to die?”

Lloyd pauses and grins, the memory of naked Emily dancing in his brain. “Hard to answer that because I can think of worse ways to go. I mean, she’s beautiful and a great cook and gives me sponge baths. Then again, the two times I almost got a little action from her without the poison kicking in ended with her having headaches. You know, this is far too much trouble and risk just to get laid. Let’s go.”

“No. We need to catch her and get the antidote,” Cassidy replies, shoving Lloyd back to the couch. Searching for a hiding place, she opens the door to the basement and closes it as soon as she sees an explosive on the water boiler. “Just go back to whatever you were doing and I’ll hide in a closet. When she’s not paying attention, I’ll pounce and get what we need.”

“I’m slightly ashamed to admit this, but I’ve seen enough soap operas to know how this turns out,” the nervous man mutters before seeing that Emily is walking down the block. He sighs and flops onto the couch, but refuses to get naked again. “She’s almost here, so duck into that broom closet. If I end up getting killed by my evil twin who was given up for adoption at birth then I’m going to haunt you. Either that or come back after the audience has had enough time to forget how I died.”

Cassidy rolls her eyes before squeezing into the closet, the smell of cleaning chemicals making her a little dizzy. One bottle at face height is unmarked, so she wonders if it is holding the poison. The tight space makes it impossible to check and she freezes when Emily enters the house with a happy greeting. Lloyd falls right back into asking if he can go outside and trying to get his fake wife naked. It is when things have been quiet for a few minutes that Cassidy begins to worry. As far as she knows, they are still in the living room, but there are no sounds of movement or talking. When she does hear something, it is the noise of manicured nails on the closet handle and an apology to Lloyd that she has to go clean a mess at work. Given the situation, the look on Emily’s face at the sight of the cornered blonde is both expected and terrifying.

“Who is this slut?” the housewife angrily asks, whirling around to glare at Lloyd. She grabs a nearby vase and throws it into the closet, its target having slipped out a moment before the attack. “I do everything for you, sweetie. Is it because we haven’t had sex? That can’t be all I am to you. Just a piece of meat for you to ogle and enjoy. How could you reduce our marriage to something to banal?”

“Because you’re fucking hot and I haven’t had sex in over a decade,” Lloyd innocently replies with a charming smirk. The expression becomes a grimace when his chest aches, the poison reacting to his anxiety. “Look, I don’t think this is going to work out. My friend here needs me and suburbia isn’t my thing. That and you keep slipping me something that may kill me. Normally, I’d kill you and move on, but there are two problems. One is that we need the antidote and the other is that I really do hope that we can reconnect later. By that I mean, testing out a mattress. I’m talking about-”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!” Cassidy shouts, pulling a knife on Emily. The black-haired woman steps out of her shoes and expertly kicks the weapon across the room. “Oh shit. You know kickboxing or something. Though how good can you be without any experience? By the way, a woman with multiple husbands shouldn’t be call me a slut.”

“Then how about skank?” Emily replies while rolling up her sleeves. She nails Cassidy in the stomach with a knee strike and follows up with a spinning punch that misses the other woman’s head by an inch. “I think it’s called Muay Thai actually. A lot of knees and elbows according to my teacher. Great way to get in shape before a wedding. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

“Watch out, Cassidy! She’s all legs. Delicious, smooth, toned leg!” Lloyd shouts as he searches for the knife. He hears Emily make a strange noise of anger and sports her glaring reflection in the window. “I’ll be honest with you, honey. It’s all about your body because your personality sucks. Sadly, that’s the only part of you that does. Besides, you’ve been cheating on me with other men and I’m not the forgiving type of girl.”

Emily is about to shout at her husband, who is attempting a demur pose, when Cassidy tackles her from behind. The two women crash through the coffee table, both of them ignoring the glass shards that cut their skin. An elbow hits the blonde in the eye and sends her rolling off, but she is right back on her feet. Using a throw pillow, Cassidy blocks the next kick and smacks her opponent in the face with the soft weapon, which earns a whoop of glee from Lloyd. One of the decorative beads cuts Emily’s cheek, stunning her for a brief moment. Not having any real fighting experience, the deranged housewife is surprised to have been injured. For her credit, she remains calm and grabs one of her nearby heels to throw. The shoe misses Cassidy, who catches the next kick and fumbles with her lighter to burn the other woman’s heel. A savage punch to the face stops the shorter woman from doing much damage.