From Darkness Comes: The Horror Box Set (183 page)

Gaki handed
Drew a hatchet. The wooden handle, stained by decades of use, held a rusty
blade. The tip shone in the light of the single bulb hanging from the ceiling
of the laundry room.

“You must. If
you want to keep killing, you must.”

“I don’t. I
fucking don’t!” Drew screamed at Gaki.

The creature
stepped from the shadows. It reached into the sink basin and scooped a handful
of intestines. It shoved them into the slit of its mouth, managing to chew on a
few. Drew gagged and staggered back against the cinder-block wall. He saw a
clear, plastic bag with the woman’s bloody shirt and boxers.

“You do. The
rage consumes you. The rape and the murder keeps you alive.”

Drew ran a hand
through his hair and wiped snot from his nose. “I’ll kill you,” he said.

Drew swung the
hatchet at Gaki’s thin, spindly arm. The blade sliced through the shoulder,
dropping it to the ground. Gaki laughed. He tossed his head back and the room
reverberated with the sick, grisly sound of his cackle. A popping sound came from
the severed shoulder, where a thin stream of gray ooze came forth. It coalesced
into a long cylinder, fingers forming on the end. In a matter of seconds, the
new arm replaced the severed one.

“Dispose of
her. Time is short.”

Drew staggered
and his breath hitched through choking sobs. He hacked at the woman’s body
until it sat in a pool of blood and flesh. Gaki dropped the body parts into a
garbage bag. After wrapping a towel around the woman’s head, Gaki placed it in
a clear plastic bag. He handed Drew another gallon of bleach. He took it from
Gaki and poured the yellow liquid into the tub, where it swirled with the
woman’s blood. Drew took his hand, ignored the chemical burn on his skin, and
swished the liquid around until most of the blood disappeared down the drain. He
turned on the faucet and rinsed his arms in cold water while red patches
blossomed on the back of his hands.

“Put the bags
in the car and then dispose of your bloody garments,” said Gaki.

Drew heard a
car. A sedan sat in the driveway with the front of the car closest to the curb.
The trunk popped open and Drew began dragging the bags to it. The street kept
its silence.

***

The streetlights
blew by in a cloud of spring mist. Drew reached over and turned the volume knob
to the right. The sinister riff from Threefold Law scorched the sedan’s speaker
system, one more accustomed to Raffi or Barney than the epic doom of
Revenant
.

“Wait for the
sun behind the eastern heights,” Drew sang with J. Thorn, the lead singer. He
tapped his fingers on the top of the steering wheel and glanced down at the
needle of the speedometer, edging closer to eighty.

“Keep going.”

Drew looked up
into the mirror until his eyes met Gaki’s. He nodded and then laughed at the
thought of the corny movie about an old, rich, white woman and her black
chauffer.

“Sho ’nough,”
Drew replied with a fabricated southern drawl.

The car gripped
the winding highway. Drew wished he could have afforded the German engineering.
Two children and a cubicle made that an impossibility.

“Mind if I
smoke?”

Gaki stared
straight ahead, unmoving in the backseat.

“Didn’t think
so.”

Drew grabbed a
cigar from the middle console. He had seen the box inside the glass-fronted
humidor on the way out of the woman’s house. Considering he had helped dispose
of the woman’s body, Drew doubted the man would mind if he smoked some of his
cigars. The plastic wrap crinkled as the sweet, rich fragrance of flavor-soaked
tobacco filled the car. Drew looked down for the cigarette lighter and pushed the
knob in. After a few seconds, he grabbed the plastic knob and held it to the
end of the cigar. A few wisps of gray smoke curled out as Drew inhaled and
exhaled rapidly. He blew a mouthful of the tobacco out the window, dropped two
inches to allow the smoke to escape.

“Don’t want you
to become a victim of second-hand smoke.”

Again, Gaki did
not reply except with a long stare. The nicotine buzz made Drew’s head light. He
smiled and inhaled again, tasting the smoke and rolling his tongue through the
warm air.

“I’m good with
you now.”

Gaki growled.

“No, really. I
mean, I’ll hang if they ever catch me. No way I could possibly blame this on my
Gaki friend, the fucking creature that tortured my grandfather in Japan during
World War II and then reappeared to wreck my goddamn life. Nobody would believe
that, would they, Gakster. I could say that I didn’t rape the women. I could
plead that I was innocent of killing Johnson, but somehow, someway, they’d find
DNA evidence tying me to it. Wouldn’t they, you motherfucker?”

Drew slammed
the accelerator to the floor. The engine came to life and pulled the sedan
along the highway as the song “Earth” pumped through the speakers.

“You cannot
kill me,” Gaki said. His mouth did not move, but Drew heard him over the roar
of the engine and the music pulsing from the sound system.

“I don’t have
to kill you, dickhead. I only have to kill me.”

Drew spun the
steering wheel to the left, slamming the driver side of the vehicle into the
concrete barrier. Tongues of fire leapt from the collision and sparks fell into
the car through the cracked windows. Drew felt the tires lifting from the
pavement and the suspension shimmy as he began to lose control of the vehicle.

“You have not
paid your dues. You still owe life,” Gaki said.

“Nope. Don’t
think so. I believe that if I turn this fucking car into a pile of smoldering
ash, that I’m free. You can’t mind-fuck me anymore, can’t hold me prisoner in
my own body.”

“It didn’t free
you from your grandfather’s debt.”

Drew opened his
mouth and the cigar fell to the floor. He smelled the rancid odor of burning
fabric. His eyebrows creased and he used both hands to take hold of the
steering wheel and bring the vehicle back under control, the dashed, white
lines disappearing beneath them.

“You can’t.”

Gaki smiled. The
thin, dark line on its face curled up at the edges. Drew felt the creature
mocking him. “I will.”

Drew slammed
his head into the steering wheel, opening a laceration that oozed blood. He
screamed and tried punching through the roof of the car with his right hand. Gaki
sat unmoved.

“He’s
innocent.”

“For now,”
replied Gaki. “If you do not fulfill your duty, I will have your son do it.”

Drew screamed
again. He cried and gritted his teeth until blood spewed from his forehead and
his mouth. The speedometer on the car dropped from one hundred and thirty to
ninety, and then to seventy. At sixty-five miles per hour, the trees and sound
wall bordering the highway slowed to a crawl.

“This stops
with me. I will fulfill whatever fucking duty you think my line owns, but it
stops with me. My soul for my son and his sons.”

Gaki coughed
and stared at Drew through the mirror. “You have no ground to negotiate. You
will do as I command.”

Drew pulled the
vehicle to the shoulder. Pebbles and debris rattled the undercarriage of the
car with deafening accuracy. He slammed the breaks, sending a cloud of dust
into the air and blocking out the rest of the world.

“If you’re
taking my son anyway, then
you
have no grounds for negotiation.”

Gaki nodded. He
grumbled.

“Well,” asked
Drew. “What’s it gonna be, fucker?”

“I shall hold
you liable and release your line from the curse, but your duty is not yet fulfilled.”

Drew shook. He
reached down and found the remains of the cigar, which had burnt down and out. Drew
placed it between his lips, gnawing at the tobacco and spitting leaf fragments
out.

“Of course it
ain’t. Who’s next?”

Gaki grinned
again.

“No. She’s my
wife, the mother of my children. That would be as bad as if I destroyed them with
my own hand.”

“The mother of
your children,” repeated Gaki.

“She wouldn’t
cheat,” Drew said.

“She already
has,” replied Gaki.

Drew shook his
head back and forth, tears cascading down his face.

“Another one of
your tricks, you evil fuck.”

“You have
witnessed the infidelity with your own eyes,” said Gaki. “You deny what you
see.”

Drew shook,
sobs holding his chest tight.

“Her and her
lover must be punished. Then your duty will be fulfilled and your line
released.”

He took his
foot off the brake and slammed the accelerator. Drew swerved back onto the
highway with gravel spewing from the tires.

“Where are we
dumping the body?” he asked Gaki.

The creature grinned,
its thin tongue sliding out of its mouth like a diseased serpent.

***

“I still can’t believe
you parked on our street. What kind of dumbass move was that?”

“He didn’t
catch us.”

Molly shrugged
her shoulders as she put her arms through the bra. She reached around and
fastened it in the back. “Thanks to me and my vibrator.”

Brian smiled. He
watched her dress from his bed with a sheet pulled up to his waist, a cigarette
between his fingers and a lighter in the opposite hand.

“Don’t light
that. I don’t want to have to explain why I smell like an ashtray.”

“You know how
much I like to smoke after getting pussy.”

Molly rolled
her eyes and let a hiss escape her lips. Brian reached for the remote on the
end table and turned on the television. A tired game show featuring contestants
with plastic faces came to life, the audio muted. He watched the manicured
moustache of the host twinkle at a female contestant. Molly got dressed and
fumbled to put an earring back in place.

“No more
today?” he asked with a sly smile.

“We need to
stop this, at least until the shit with Drew settles down. And I need to pick
up the kids.”

He shook his
head.

“I mean it. I’ll
get in touch with you. No more calls or any other bullshit from your end. Got
it?”

Brian held his
palms up, feigning innocence. “You can’t deny my rod,” he said, grinning.

“Fuck off,
Brian.”

Molly slammed
the door, shaking the Led Zeppelin poster on the wall. Brian put his hands
behind his back. He shoved the cigarette between his lips and snapped the flint
on his lighter.

***

“Thank you, and
welcome to Channel 7 News. I’m your anchor, Melanie Sampson, and this is our
top story. Things seem to be getting more bizarre in the Crooked Tail River
murder investigation. In addition to the two bodies discovered last week, a
local woman has now gone missing. Let’s go back out to Nan Roles, who has been
covering the story for us.”

“Melanie,
authorities are not releasing information other than the woman’s identity. Twenty-nine-year-old
Rachel Merinshore was reported missing by her friend several hours after she
failed to show up at a book-club meeting that evening.”

“I thought the
police did not consider a person missing until they were gone for twenty-four
hours. Why are they releasing this now?”

“They are
worried that her disappearance is suspect and could be related to the other
murders. Merinshore’s car is also missing, and she lives in the same housing
plan as one Drew Green, a man the police considered a person of interest, but
who now seems to be the primary suspect.”

“Nan, do you
have information on this Drew Green?”

“Yes, Melanie. He
is a thirty-nine-year-old husband and father of two. He is employed by Rede
Design, the same office where the two victims were employed. One neighbor told
us that that there was a foot chase this morning, but that the police lost the
suspect. You can see the patrol cars over my shoulder that have staked out the
house and have been searching the neighborhood for the man that is now a
fugitive from the law.”

“Is he wanted
for questioning, or has an arrest warrant been issued?”

“There is a
warrant out for his arrest, Melanie. Police are cautioning people, saying that
the man could be very dangerous. They’re asking anyone that has any information
to call the tip hotline, and under no circumstances should they confront the
suspect.”

“Wow. What a
tragic and frightening story. Thanks, Nan.”

“You’re
welcome, Melanie.”

Brian aimed the
remote at the television and thumbed the power button in one motion. He ran a
hand down his face, cupping his chin. The smell of Molly lingered on his hands.
His chest ached. Somehow, the old adage of putting your buddies before women
never shook out. Brian had always found Molly intoxicating, like his favorite
beer. He could never stop at one, could not keep it to flirting or friendship. She
was not completely innocent, either. Brian surmised that he was able to do
something to her that Drew could not. He reached a primal, primitive place that
excited and satisfied her to the point of risking marriage and family to see
him.

Brian’s
phone buzzed on the table next to his bed. He reached over and looked at the
icon of the caller.

“Hey, man. Where
the hell are you?”

“Riding. Taking
some time to think.”

“Your face is
all over the fucking news. Molly is worried sick about you.”

Brian winced at
the slip of the tongue and felt a pang of guilt before Drew responded.

“I’m sure she
is.”

Brian thought
he heard a whispering sound. “Got a passenger?”

“Of sorts.”

“Who’s with ya,
bud?”

“Speaking of
Molly,” said Drew, ignoring Brian’s last question. “Seen her lately?”

Brian forced
the lump in his throat down in order to keep his voice from wavering.

“No, man. Why
would I? Been at home watching movies and drinking beer since Rede shut down. Got
some bitchin’ zombie movies. Wanna swing by and watch
Zombieland
? Bill
Murray is in it. A fucking riot.”