“Carlee your friend, huh?” He looked down at her, his hands on his hips like someone who’d just watched a bad football play. “This is really bad for Carlee your friend. She forced her way into this, now she can’t leave.”
Face lowered the machete, the tip pointing at the floor. He looked from Haley to Carlee with evident regret in his eyes.
Haley figured he was dreading the order to kill them that would surely come soon.
“Carp should be back any second now. He can handle Carlee. But, Haley?”
She looked up at him, her bottom lip quivering and flinching from the torrents of snot streaming over it.
“I’m taking care of you, myself.”
Haley felt some sort of relief in hearing that, because that meant it would soon be over.
(III)
The saw had worked perfectly as a wedge. Pushing it under the window, he’d angled it down on his side, and the window shot upward with a quick
shwoomp.
He tensed, expecting at any moment for the intruders to barge in and see him clinging helplessly to a gutter outside.
They never came.
He tossed the saw apparatus into the room and used his left hand to raise the window high enough for him to squeeze through. Once inside, he didn’t bother closing it back. He scooped up the saw and walked to the closed door. Gently, he eased it open. The muffled sounds became clearer and more audible. From downstairs he heard a man declaring he would take care of Haley himself. His heart lurched.
No!
He needed to act now. No holding back.
Pushing back the tears that wanted to shed, he took in a deep breath as a stellar image materialized in front of him as if it were real. Its chrome body eased Joel’s fear, but only a little.
Dad’s gun.
A six-cylinder .41 magnum revolver that his Mom had detested from the day it was purchased at a gun show.
It had been Joel’s idea to sneak in through Haley’s window, get the keys to their parents’ room, and go to the closet where the gun had sat in its wooden box
since the one and only time they’d gone into the woods to shoot it. Mom had
really
freaked then.
But, wasn’t the box locked with a padlock?
Hell with it, I’ll break the fucker open.
But, Carlee had convinced him he would need a distraction to help conceal what he was doing. He’d protested, but she’d eventually won him over.
He spun on his heels and hurried to Haley’s dresser, opened the jewelry box, then snatched the key. With it dangling from his fingers he went to the door, poking his head out through the tight space he’d allotted himself. Things sounded as they’d somewhat settled downstairs. He could hear the perceptible tones of voices, but couldn’t understand what was being said.
Keeping the saw close so the belt wouldn’t jingle, he darted across the hall, ducking down as he came to the railing over the living room. In the corner of his eye he detected some people down there, and one of them for sure was Pillowface. It was hard to miss someone of his build. He was just standing off to the side, doing nothing.
Why wasn’t he helping them?
He stopped at the bedroom door and pushed the key into the lock. His trembling hand gave him trouble with the key. After a couple attempts he succeeded with turning it. The knob clicked and he twisted it open. The door slowly swayed inward. He didn’t hesitate as he dashed through the darkened room, heading straight for the closet. He was inside before taking another breath and fumbling at the string
hanging from the overhead light bulb. He found it, pulled it down, and the light switched on. It was a soft glow, nearly yellow in color. The bulb would probably burn out soon. That depressed him. He could remember when Dad had put that bulb in. He wasn’t looking forward to replacing it with another one.
He found the box just where he remembered it being: centered on the top shelf. Bringing it down to the floor, he knelt in front of it as if it were the lost ark. As he’d suspected, it was locked tight. Dad was extra careful with how he stored it. Joel raised the saw above his head with the flat end pointed down like he was about to sacrifice the box to a mythical god. He brought the blade down, splitting the box in the middle. The wood splintered and cracked. Then he punched it, putting the final say on its existence.
Joel pulled back the broken pieces. The gun, untouched in years, still shined as if it were brand new in the carpet-comforted case. It was loaded. Another round-clip with six bullets was nestled into another compartment above it. He grabbed the magazine, stuffing it down one of his pockets. He curled his fingers around the handle of the magnum and lifted it out of the box. It felt cold and slick in his hand. An orb of light glimmered off the barrel. He felt much stronger, powerful. Strange, how a mean weapon such as this could do that to a person, even one as young as Joel.
If he hadn’t been so mesmerized by the pistol, he probably would have heard the approach of footsteps. He’d wasted so much time already, and the gun had distracted him even more.
“That’s a pretty piece you got there. Won’t Daddy get pissed if he finds out you been playing in his toolbox?”
Joel jumped at the low voice full of a staggering rage that came off as nearly pleasant.
Joel looked behind him and saw the voice’s owner. A slim man, dressed in green, with a hat on his head. He stood near his parents’ bed with his arms folded over his chest. His smile stretched the corners of his mouth.
“I take it that Jones guy didn’t find you.”
“He found me…”
The man scan
ned Joel’s clothes and nodded. “I see. Is that his blood on you?”
Joel nodded.
“I’ll bite. I’m impressed kid. You killed the man who was sent to kill you. I’ll be damned. But, you fucked up in the meantime. Want to know how?”
Joel did want to know, but had suddenly forgotten how to speak.
The man continued. “You haven’t shot me yet.”
Remembering the gun clutched in his sweaty hands, Joel tried to quic
kly aim it at the man’s chest. But before he could even focus his line of sight, the man had snatched the pistol from his fingers and slapped him across the face with his other hand. Joel’s eyes welled with tears as stinging tendrils of pain coursed through his head.
The man stepped back, putting the gun behind his back, then he reached down and picked up the saw. The belt dangled from behind it like two tails.
“This is odd looking. Did you make this?”
Joel held his cheek, sobbing. He tried to tell him no, but couldn’t slow his breathing down enough to do it, so he only shook his head.
“I didn’t think so. This looks like Face’s work.”
Just like the movies…I should have expected this. I’ve written stuff like this. Just when you’re about to win…something out of the blue happens.
He’d been careless and slow. Stupid. Letting his guard down instead of being on alert like a
real
man would have been.
Sorry Haley…sorry Carlee, I let you down…
His eyes were still streaming with tears as the man reached for him.
(I)
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
In the movies the central characters always won in the end by beating the bad guys, slaying the maniac in a gory demise, or succeeding in sending the demons back to hell. One problem Joel never took into consideration until now was:
This isn’t a damn movie!
By a handful of his hair, Joel was being dragged. He struggled to keep up, and when he wasn’t moving fast enough, he felt it on his scalp. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the man began yelling.
“Here’s the little shit!!”
Another man turned. “Carp? Where the hell have you been?”
“I was on my way back from the neighbor’s and saw this little shit sneaking around the house, so I followed him in.”
“Where’s the guy we sent after him?”
Carp shoved Joel forward, but didn’t release his hair. “Who, Jones? Look at the blood all over him.”
The one with the plastic mask on his head looked surprised. “He
killed
him?”
“Yep.”
“Wow kid…”
“Guess you know now that you should have sent me, Buddy. This would have been over a long time ago.”
“Don’t start with me.”
Haley screamed when she saw Joel. Carlee lay on the floor, moving, but barely. She was bleeding pretty heavily from the mouth. She’d failed, but that was all right, so had Joel. The plan that they’d thought was so brilliant had turned out to be a catastrophe.
A man was splayed awkwardly on the patio, the glass door shattered. Joel guessed he’d been thrown through the door and probably sliced to ribbons by the glass. It was obvious the man was dead. Joel had seen enough dead bodies in recent days to recognize the blue cast of skin as a bad sign. He also recognized the guy as Alan from the bookstore, which hurt Joel even more. How many people were going to die because of him? He’d already lost so many…
“Toss him down there next to his sister.”
Nodding, Carp flung Joel by the hair. He crashed against Haley’s legs. She quickly lifted them and wrapped them around his shoulders. He supposed it was her way of trying to hold him close to her. As awkward as it was, it was great to have. He hugged one of her legs and didn’t want to ever let go.
Carp held up the gun. “The kid snuck in through a window and had gotten this. I guess he was going to go all
Death Wish
and start shooting everybody.” He turned around and planted his boot firmly in Joel’s stomach.
****
Joel’s cries pulled Pillowface from the kitchen. He charged into the room and spotted Joel on the floor by Carp. Buddy had that look in his eye. The one that normally meant hell was on the verge of breaking loose. Haley sat in the chair crying and screaming. All her beauty was practically gone. Her strength had been replaced by panic and collapse. Buddy was good at that. Bringing people down to their lowest rung before letting them drop.
The order for everyone’s death was coming. Any minute now, he and Carp would be put to work.
Pillowface was being pulled in two directions. To Buddy, who he’d been loyal to for a few years now and to Joel, the one who made him remember what it was like to be innocent, and that everyone could be cursed by abandonment. This kid was a lot like them actually. He’d watched his happiness and dreams get pushed to the wayside while life dealt him a cruel, bitter hand from the reality deck of cards.
He didn’t deserve to die.
Joel saw Pillowface. A small spark of hope flickered in his eyes.
“Pillowface? Help me!”
Buddy laughed hysterically.
“You can stop this, Pillowface…you can stop this!”
As if they weren’t laughing hard enough at the poor kid, he began to cry. Then he added for fits, “You’re my friend!”
Buddy had tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard.
Carp yanked back on Joel’s hair, forcing more tears out of his eyes. “If he was your friend, kid, would he be letting me do this?”
He pulled Joel away from Haley’s legs and onto his knees, then slammed an elbow against the back of his head, knocking him forward to the floor. He landed near the other girl. She reached out to him and stroked his face. Her touch looked to calm him some. But, the back of his skull had to be pulsating like someone was hammering a spike back there.
He’d witnessed Carp perform unnecessary acts of violence to people before, but this was the first time it had angered Pillowface enough that he was tempted to snap his neck.
Buddy looked at Face, “You friends with this snot or what?”
Pillowface couldn’t take his eyes off Joel.
Buddy’s smile began to fade. “Tell me you weren’t
hanging out
with this kid.”
Pillowface still didn’t answer, just continued gaping at Joel who was crying really hard now.
Through sniffles Joel whined, “Pillowface…”
Buddy didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Let me tell you who the
real
Pillowface is…the one we call
Face.
He’s a killer, and he loves it. A fucking assassin. He’s the best at what he does. The best there ever was or will be.”
Normally when Buddy stroked his ego, Pillowface felt as if he were some kind of god among men, an artist painting on a sadistic pallet. Everything Buddy had said was true. He did take some form of pride in his work. But, after seeing the undeniable hurt in Joel’s eyes, he began to remember there was another side to his work, one he didn’t usually see.
Their
side. The kid had had a hard enough life as it was, and he’d made it even harder by becoming his friend.
Pillowface’s pride was gone by the way of shame.
Buddy’s patience had worn out. He stomped his foot. “Face? Answer me goddammit! Are you friends with this kid?”
He nodded.
“Un-fucking-believable.” He looked at Carp. “Did you see that?”
“Sure did.”
Buddy obviously couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
“You son of a bitch. You fucking traitor!”
He slapped a hand across the front side of the burlap. Pillowface shot his head around. Buddy jumped back when he saw the rage bubbling in his eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. This is
your
fuckup. You’re the one that brought us to them. You call that kid your friend, but what about Carp? He’s been there for you a lot longer than that twerp.”
Agreeing, Carp said, “Goddamn right.”
“So, to prove yourself to us once again, you’re going to have to take a test.”
Pillowface tilted his head. He should have known it would come to this.
“Grab the kid, Carp.”
“My pleasure.”
Screaming, Haley kicked at Carp as he leaned over to lift up Joel. He still had the gun in one hand, so he reached for Joel with the other and grappled a nest of his hair. Haley continued to lash out, but didn’t come close to connecting. From the floor, Carlee swung her fists, but missed as well.
Carlee began to scream high-pitched wails that couldn’t be understood.
Haley tugged against the barbwire, looking at Face with hatred in her eyes that he hadn’t seen so severely other than his own. “Leave him alone! He’s just a kid!” She looked at Carp. “You’re going to kill a kid?”
“No,” slapping a hand on Pillowface’s back, “he is.”
****
Writhing and squirming, Joel hammered on Carp’s chest. This did nothing to save him. With each attempt at striking him, Carp tugged his hair harder, until finally Joel gave up. An hour ago he wouldn’t have thought Pillowface might actually kill him, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d never once truly feared him in the short time they’d been together.
Now, he was terrified of him.
The girls screamed and begged from behind Joel. He couldn’t tell them apart. Sounding more like disarranged shrieks, their words were hardly understandable. At last, Carp had forcefully escorted him to Pillowface. They faced each other.
Carp released his hair and jostled Joel against the towering build of Pillowface’s body. The feel of it, its firmness was familiar, but nothing was comforting about it anymore. Everything had changed in such a short amount of time.
The screams behind him lightened. He made himself look up at Pillowface. Their eyes locked. Staring for a moment, Joel saw a tear break away from his eye and soak into the burlap.
Simultaneously, Buddy and Carp began a chant. Slow at first, it steadily increased to a drum.
“Face! Face! Face!”
The chant continued as Joel felt Pillowface’s brawny hands find his throat. He hoped that his eyes, ample and full of fear, asked him to make it quick, because he was begging for it in his mind.
****
Pillowface glanced at Haley. Her mouth hung open as if she were screaming but had been put on mute. Though he knew it could never have happened, he’d fantasized some kind of life with her and Joel in this house, but he should have known better. He had kissed those dreams good-bye.
All he’d brought them had been pain and torment.
One quick spin of the wrists would snap Joel’s neck, ending it all. The agony, distress, the loneliness. A quick crack and he’d be free.
The perceptible chant was thunderous as if they were waiting for him to kick a field goal.
And his mind was made up. Joel shall be set free. It ends now with a mercy kill.
(II)
With everyone’s attention diverted, Haley began working at the bounded wire on her wrists. Being able to gulp down scorching hot coffee without having it touch the back of her throat wasn’t her only talent.
She was also very flexible.
And she had been for as long as she could remember.
Leaning over, she sucked in a breath to make her stomach even flatter than the paper elevation it naturally was. This allowed her to contort herself so her mouth could touch her wrist. She gnashed her teeth to a snarl and bit down on the rusting wire. Her mouth lit up with a flurry of stings like crunching aluminum foil, but she didn’t stop. She carried on like a mouse caught in a trap, gnawing and chewing. Her lips formed around the rudimentary knot. She felt her canine tooth penetrate its fold, permitting her to lock down. Her rows of enamel met, then she tugged with all the strength in her neck.
The knot came free; the wire drooped around the chair.
(III)
The pressure didn’t come right away in one quick squeeze. Pillowface slowly applied it as if he was undecided to do so. Joel could still breathe, but it was hard. When he tried to swallow, his spit became lodged behind his Adams apple. If Pillowface squeezed any harder Joel realized his throat would be crushed.
Joel wished he’d go on and do it. Dragging it out like this was torture. He wanted it to be over and done, so that way he would no longer have to live with knowing what he’d done to so many people. Sure, it wasn’t
his
hands that had murdered Tonya, her parents, or Ethan…but it might as well have been. He hadn’t been the one to tear Clay Ray’s scalp from his head, but he’d been the one to put the chainsaw in his hair so Pillowface could do it.
It was his fault. He should have never allowed Pillowface to come into his life.
A tear spilled from Face’s eye as the pressure increased.
Here it comes.
The chanting stopped. Instead of hoots and cheers, he now heard grunting. A shriek of rage that sounded like it could have come from Haley tore through the tight room.
Pillowface released Joel’s throat and together they turned towards Buddy and Carp.
Carp held his hand away from him at neck level, struggling with some kind of wire or something that was trying to coil around his throat. He turned to the side, revealing Haley behind him with the barbwire she was tied with now wrapped around each hand and trying to strangle Carp with it.
As Buddy moved in to assist Carp, Carlee speared him in a nearly perfect tackle. He hit the coffee table and smashed through it to the floor. Carlee rolled across him. On the floor, she reeled back and forth, apparently also stunned from the impact.
Joel looked at Pillowface who in return looked at him. Much like Joel, Pillowface probably didn’t know what to do. Joel should help his sister, and Pillowface should be helping Carp, but neither of them could budge from their spot.
Holding his stomach, Buddy got to his knees. “Face…for fucksake, help him!”
Pillowface glanced at Joel one more time before charging.
But, so did Joel.
He went straight for the gun still clutched in Carp’s hand. It wasn’t going to be as easy to dislodge it as he’d thought it would be. Carp had a firm grip, and even worse, his finger was inching closer to the trigger. With the barrel pointing directly at his face, Joel fought to pull the gun away from him.