From Darkness Comes: The Horror Box Set (184 page)

Silence hung on
the line. Brian looked down at the phone but saw that the call counter
continued. Drew was still there.

“Ain’t that the
one where he’s not a zombie, but they think he is and so they shoot him? He
plays himself, right?”

Brian’s face
lit up and he rocked back into the headboard, smiling like old times. He looked
to his left and saw the depression in the mattress left by Drew’s wife and the
smile dropped from his face. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Seen it.”

“We could watch
it again?”

“Is she still
there, Brian?”

Brian took the
question like a blow to the midsection. He stood and straightened the sheets as
if disposing of evidence in the investigation of infidelity.

“Who?”

“Remember that
time we went to Ocean City? I think it was after our junior year of high
school. Do you remember that?” Drew asked.

“Yeah, how
could I forget? We banged that surfer chick, the one working the Italian ice
stand on Pennsylvania and 13
^th
Street.”

“Janice,”
replied Drew.

“What’s that,
bro?”

“I said ‘Janice.’
Her name was Janice. You always have a hard time remembering the names of the
women you fuck. Why is that, Brian?”

He stood and
split the blinds with two fingers. Brian scanned the street below for Drew. He
looked at the sidewalk on both sides for any sign of his friend. He saw none. “Do
you remember them?”

“Yep. Easy.”

“Why is that?”

“Cause it’s
only Molly.”

Brian laughed
and shook his head. “We fucked many hos, man, you and I.”

“Did ya ever
see me ‘fucking the hos’?”

Brian stopped
and turned away from the window, his eyes locked on the peephole of his front
door. He thought he heard the muffled puff of air trapped when a car door
shuts. “That’d be gay. I wouldn’t stick around to see yer schlong.”

“Well, there ya
have it, Brian. I lied about the other women. Never even touched Viv. Don’t get
me wrong, she wanted me to plow her, but I couldn’t do it. It’s always been
Molly for me. Molly, and only her.”

Brian thought
he heard the door on the stairwell hit the bumper on the wall. Footsteps echoed
off the tiled floor.

“Yeah, right. What
about the chick on Fat Tuesday, the one you left with from the Irish Pub on
Forbes Avenue?”

“Walked her
home. She stuck her tongue in my mouth and I turned and vaulted over the hedges
and onto the sidewalk. I fucking ran from her sorority house like I was on
fire.”

Brian stood
with the phone held to his right ear. He shuffled across the room toward the
door, keeping his eyes locked on the doorknob. The button appeared to be
depressed, but he could not be sure until he took another couple of steps.

“You still with
me, Brian?” asked Drew, his turn to make sure the conversation had not ended
prematurely.

“Yeah, man. I’m
still here,” he replied. “Where did you say you were?”

“I didn’t.”

“So where you
headed?”

“Thought I’d
swing by, hang with you for a bit.”

Brian reached
for the doorknob and felt the cool, brass button flush with the knob. The knob
was locked, for what it was worth. “Okay. I mean, that’s cool. I thought you
didn’t want to, but that’s fine.”

“I said I
didn’t want to watch zombie movies with you. That didn’t mean two old, loyal
friends can’t hang out, right?”

Brian stepped
back from the door and pulled a tissue from the box on the bookcase. He used it
to wipe the sweat from his face.

“Unless you’ve
got someone over there right now. That would be embarrassing, me showing up
while you’ve got one in the sack, sucking you off.”

“Nope. Nobody’s
here, Drew.”

Brian heard a
deep breath along with footsteps in the hallway.

“Great.”

The front of the
apartment door shook. The knocking rattled the door and several of the framed
pictures on the thin walls. Brian dropped the phone on the bed and stood in the
middle of the room. He grabbed a pair of athletic shorts off of the chair and a
dirty T-shirt from the floor. In one motion, Brian pulled the shirt over his
head and straightened his hair.

“Yeah?” Brian
asked through the locked door.

“Made it. Came
to hang.”

Brian winced. Drew’s
voice sounded heavy, strained, as if he were covering his stress with slang. It
was not working. “I’m coming.”

“That’s what
she said, eh?”

Brian shrugged
at the tired joke and reached for the doorknob. He opened it. Drew stood before
him. Brian recognized his friend, but barely. Drew’s hair lay plastered to his
forehead and the back of his neck. His eyes darted back and forth, set in their
sockets like two hardened glints of obsidian. Several puffy lines ran along his
cheek, with a dark line of oozing blood in the middle, as if someone had clawed
at his face. Dried blood filled his nostrils. Drew’s T-shirt clung to his frame
with a slick covering of sweat. The shirt had many small holes on the chest and
stomach. Drew’s arms hung listlessly at his sides.

“Hey, Bri,”
Drew said. The words came out slurred and fuzzy, as if Drew were sporting a
two-beer buzz.

“‘Sup, man. C’mon
in.”

Brian stood
aside and held the doorknob in one hand. He used the other to wave Drew into
the apartment. Once Drew shuffled past, Brian stuck his head into the hallway. It
was empty except for a bag of trash Ms. Zuckerman had set outside her door. The
old bitch was constantly stinking up the hallway with her cabbage leftovers and
the super never did anything about it. He tucked the complaint into the back of
his mind for the next time rent was due and pulled the door shut.

Drew stood in
the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on Brian’s bed. His breathing was slight,
as if he were sleeping.

“Have a seat,
bro,” Brian said.

Drew looked at
him and it made Brian shiver. “On the bed? In your cum stain? Don’t think so.”

He walked over
to the kitchen area and sat down at the table. The rickety chair crackled with
protest, the 70s vinyl hissing as the air escaped from the foam cushion.

“Got a beer?”

Brian nodded
and walked to the fridge. He opened the door and reached in for the last bottle
on the top shelf.

Got nothing
to offer him after this, at least. Maybe he’ll go,
Brian thought. “Here,
man. Twist off.”

Brian watched
Drew’s fingers wrap around the bottle. He took it to his mouth and drank. Drew’s
throat constricted and he coughed, spewing a fine mist of ale into the air.

“Easy does it,
man.”

Drew’s eyes
filled with tears and he coughed again. “Got some shit in my lungs still.”

Brian turned
his head sideways and looked at Drew. “Smoke?”

“Nope. Chemical
burn.”

“What you been
up to today that gave you chemical burn in your lungs?”

Drew waved his
hand as if whisking another round of gasping coughs through his system. “Disposal,”
he replied.

Brian stood,
not bothering to ask for clarification as he the odor of bleach hung in the air.

“Can you see
him?” Drew asked.

Brian giggled
and looked around the apartment. The news ended and one of the afternoon talk
shows was beginning. With the volume muted, he imagined the sound of the host’s
voice as she interviewed another woman, much like two clucking hens. He turned
back to Drew. “See who?”

Drew laughed,
which triggered more coughing. He tipped the beer bottle back, took another
swig, and then threw it at the wall next to the refrigerator. The glass burst
like a balloon and shards ricocheted off the other appliances. The neck of the
bottle landed on the floor between them and spun clockwise until it stopped,
aiming at the stove.

“Spin the
bottle,” said Drew.

“Fuck, man. I’m
gonna have to clean that up.”

Drew
straightened his back and bared his teeth. He slid both hands into his pockets.
“Better get rid of that stench, too. You know, the one of stale pussy and
cheating whores.”

Brian stepped
backwards until his heels hit the leg of the table. The collision knocked a
salt shaker off the edge. It tumbled to the floor, spilling its contents in a
comet tail of white next to the remains of the broken bottle.

“Have a seat on
the couch,” Brian said. He turned his back on Drew and sat down. The second it
took before he could face him again felt like an hour. “Say what you need to
say. I’m tired of the games.”

Drew snickered
and walked to the other side of the couch. He sat at the opposite end and swung
his feet up to face Brian. Brian moved his eyes back to Drew’s face, hoping to
play dumb as long as he could.

“You’re my best
friend, Bri. I need someone to talk to.”

“Here I am.”

Drew sighed,
tears streaming down his face. “I think Molly and me are done.”

“Why do you say
that?”

“She’s fucking
around on me. I came home from work, you know, before the incidents. Came home
early and she was in bed. It was like mid-afternoon, and she was in bed.”

Brian looked at
the clock on the wall. 1:30.

“A woman’s got
every right to jack it, but something told me that wasn’t what was going on. Didn’t
think she was diddling herself. Somebody else was there. In my house. I think
he got out before I found them, and I think he was fucking my wife.”

“Did you
confront her? Did you find the guy?”

Drew shook his
head. “I went into the bathroom. Didn’t even want to deal with it. I’m sure I
gave whoever was nailing her the chance to get the fuck out, because she had a
robe on when I came out, but it was pretty clear that she was in the act. You
know that look they get, right? It’s that crazed, primal vibe, when nothing
short of a good hammering will satisfy.”

Brian nodded.

“She denied it.
Made me feel like a lunatic, one of those husbands crazed by jealousy and
paranoia that ends up killing his entire family.”

“That’s not
going to happen, man. You’re a good guy. You love your family.”

“I do, Bri. I
feel like my entire life is oozing away. It’s like having a slow leak of your
sanity. You can see the water covering the floor, from one side to the next, but
you can’t stop it. Hell, you can’t even redirect the flow. That water is going
to go where it wants to go. That’s where my head is right now. It’s going where
it wants to, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Brian wrung his
hands together and wiped sweaty palms on his thighs. “You could just let it
go.”

Drew stood. He
grabbed the edge of the mattress and flipped it into the air. Dust and dirt
filled the air as it came crashing down onto the frame. “Someone is fucking my
wife,” he said, dragging each word out like a tethered stone.

Brian backed up
to the kitchen window. He felt the cool glass on his back and wondered if he
could survive the fall to the sidewalk below. “You’re right, man. You’re right.
You need to get to the bottom of that. Maybe you should talk with Molly, clear
shit up, you know?”

Brian watched
Drew’s face contort in thought. The rage subsided as he considered the idea.

“Do you think
she’d talk to me?” he asked Brian.

“Oh, yeah! She
loves you. She loves the kids. There’s nothing more she’d want to do than get
your lives back together.” Brian hoped Drew would hijack the idea as his own
and continue to ignore the obvious complications of the situation, such as the
warrant out for his arrest.

“Well, I can’t
exactly get her to come here. I mean, that would be really awkward. My wife,
showing up at your apartment to talk about the fact that she’s fucking someone
behind my back.”

“That probably
wouldn’t be a good idea,” replied Brian. He pacified Drew, walking on eggshells
and hoping for one slim chance of escape.

“When’s the
last time you saw her?”

The question
made Brian fumble his words. He looked at the floor and then at the ceiling as
if doing complicated mathematics in his head. “Bowling. Yeah, I think it was
the bowling night last week, the fundraiser for the new community center.”

“Yes! You’re
absolutely right,” said Drew.

Brian smiled,
allowing a slim ray of hope to find its way into the conversation.

“What could she
have left there that you picked up for her? She would have remembered her ball
or shoes, and she’s probably used her phone since then.”

“How about a
ring? Not her wedding band, as she’d never forget that, but maybe the gold,
heart band on her right hand.” Brian winced. He shuddered and knew he wanted
the words back before they left his mouth. He had seen that ring on her finger;
that hand wrapped around his cock as she shoved it into her mouth. How did he
know she left it on his nightstand?

Drew’s face twisted.
Brian could not tell if it was from pain or anger. He waited. Drew’s mouth
formed a slow, burning grin. He looked at Brian with buzzing eyes.

“That’s it!” he
screamed. Drew slapped Brian on the shoulder so hard it left a red mark. “She
would have to take the rings off to bowl, and she might forget that one as it
isn’t her wedding band. It’s not the one that says she’ll be true ‘‘til death
do us part,’ not the one that commits her to her husband forever, not the one
that signifies her as a married woman. That’s brilliant, Brian. You are one
sneaky motherfucker. And, I just happen to know that she isn’t wearing the ring
right now because she left it on the bathroom sink this morning. I have it
right here but Molly doesn’t know that. She’ll think she really did leave it
somewhere else.”

Brian held his breath.

“Let me give
you her number,” said Drew.

“Hold on. I got
it,” replied Brian.

Drew looked at
him. His eyes squinted into narrow slits and his teeth appeared under spread
lips. “It’s in your phone?” he asked Brian