Headless (6 page)

CHAPTER X

     There is a terribly uncomfortable feeling in the van, as it speeds down the road. Danny leans back against the wall, snoring when the tip of a strap on swings into the edge of his mouth. He snorts, waking up and smacks it away from his face. The others in the van look around at the various sex toys and clothing packed up in the van. Harold laughs at Danny.

     “Fuck you, man,” Danny snaps, holding up a middle finger.

     “What's up with all the sex toys and shit, Dougie?” Sam yells from the back of the van. She lifts up a dildo that rivals the size of the sledgehammer she brought with her. “And who the fuck is this meant for?”

     “Hey! Put that down. It's a four-hundred-dollar dick!” Dougie yells back at her, looking in the rearview mirror.

     She drops it almost immediately, and looks around at the various handcuffs, whips, and assorted toys. Caleb reaches in his bag between his knees, and pulls out some weed, papers and a folder to work on. He begins by taking a couple papers out, then starts to tear the buds up.

     “Seriously, what sort of shit is your cousin into?” Katerina asks, leaning forward.

     “He works for the Pleasure Chest downtown. Act like you've never seen a fake cock before.”

     “But really, you couldn't have cleaned this shit out first?” Caleb asks, looking over at his pal.

     “Man, he told me if I lose any of his shit, he'll get fired. So Sam I know you've got penis envy, but you can't take any of the strap ons out of here,” Dougie yells to the back, looking over his shoulder quickly.

     “Eat me, bitch,” she leans her sledgehammer against her shoulder and puts up a middle finger, sticking her tongue out.

     “Not even if you bathed yourself in orange soda, sweetheart!” Dougie quipped. “I will fuck one of them big ass holes in the side of your head, though!”

     Everyone laughed, looking at the gauges she has in her ears. She shakes her head and scoffs, looking down. Tina smiles watching her then leans over, tapping Amir on the knee.

     “You're in my Bio class, aren't you?”

     “With Figgins?” Amir turned to her. He couldn't help but notice Kat watch their interaction, as he leaned over to talk with Tina.

     “Yeah, I thought I'd seen you somewhere before. You're pre-med?” Tina probes.

     “Sort of a family expectation, yeah. It's not terrible,” Amir shrugs. He exhales with this lie, and lowers his eyes to the floorboard of the van.

     “Oh. My. God. You fucking hate it,” Tina laughs, resting a hand on his shoulder.

     “I fucking hate it!” Amir exclaims, for the first time out loud. He leans his head back against the wall of the van. “It's the worst. But it's a well-paying career, and my dad is all about that. Plus, both he and my mom are Doctors, so they expect me to follow along.”

     “What would you do if you weren't working towards being a Doctor?” Kat asks, plopping down next to him.

     Harold grumbles as this pushes him out of his seat, but he slides down, anyways. Katerina didn't care. She wasn't about to lose this guy's interest to a girl that had a girlfriend. Amir shrugged, to the question and grew a look of great perplexity on his face, as he considered her question. Nobody had ever asked him that, before. Then he grinned widely, and raised his hands in excitement, busting a quick move before making eye contact with Kat...

     “Musical theater!”

     They all laugh, and so does he. College was a time for finding out who you were, certainly. But for some, it was simply just another stepping stone in the plotted course of their life that had been laid out years prior. Amir knew the expectations placed on him, and he accepted them albeit begrudgingly.

     “Can we shut up about fucking school, please?” Danny yelled out over the talking.

     “What do you care? You haven't gone to half of your classes all semester,” Caleb jokes looking to the back of the van. He reaches a few of the joints he's rolled back, and Danny takes them. “Pass those out.”

     “Exactly. I'm tired of school,” Danny agrees, taking the joints and handing one to Jackie, one to Sam and keeping the other for himself. He takes out a lighter and sparks his up, then passes the lighter on. “It's been nothing but a waste of time.”

     “Is that why you've been here six years now?” Dougie asks, looking in the rearview. The others laugh, as the van quickly starts filling with smoke. Sam coughs hard, staring at the joint in her hand, as she spews smoke. She grabs her chest with her free hand as she passes it to Tina, who gladly takes a hit. Soon everyone in the van is smoking, except for Dougie, when Amir tries to pass it up to him. “Nah, man. Not 'til we get to the party. Do me a favor, crack your window.”

     Caleb cranks his window down a couple inches, before taking the joint from Amir. The van speeds down the high way with smoke billowing out of the windows.

     “Dude if you get pulled over, we're fucked,” Jackie yells from the back.

     Dougie shrugs at this notion.

     “Wont your cousin or whoever get mad if we have his van, and expensive baseball bat dildos smelling like weed?” Kat leans forward, talking to Dougie.

     “As opposed to the ass and lube it usually smells like in here? I'm not sweating it. Few minutes driving with the windows down and some air freshener and it'll be all good.”

     “Fair enough,” she nods, sitting back. Jackie extends a joint to her and she takes a hit.

     Amir leans in to her, nudging her with his shoulder. She smiles at him, and playfully nudges him back. “Thanks for inviting me,” he says, leaning closer to her.

     “You're welcome, I'm glad you could come.”

     “I'm sure she'll have you coming more than once tonight,” Jackie quipped, making half the van laugh. Katerina kicks her friend across the van, who grabs her leg in pain. “Asshole!”

     Amir laughs at this back and forth. He catches Kat looking back at him, and grins at her. She really was lovely to him. Kat bit her bottom lip, returning a half grin. She loved his overly white smile, and his habit of avoiding the banter the rest of them joined in on. Of course, she knew he had the same thoughts and ideas any warm-blooded man would, but he wasn't crass, and he wasn't rude. That was hard to come by these days.

     “So where the fuck is this place?” Sam yelled from the very back of the van.

     “I don’t know, GPS hasn't said anything in a while,” Dougie notes. He picks up his phone and checks it out. After a moment of trying to sort it out while looking back and forth between the road and the screen, he shakes his head. “Mother fucker...”

     “What's the problem?” Caleb looks over at his pal.

     “The fucking thing quit working. I need to get some gas anyways, I'll pull off at the next exit and we can ask there.”

     “A man willing to ask for directions? I can't believe it,” Sam snidely remarks from the back of the van.

     Dougie throws her a middle finger over his shoulder. Danny cracks open his bag, and pulls out a small baggy of cocaine. He uses the longer nail on his pinky finger to take a bump from it, and snorts it hard, his face twitching a couple times as it hits him. He holds up the bag, looking around.

     “Anyone want some?” Danny asks. Katerina, Amir and Tina respond in the negative. But Caleb reaches back, grabbing the bag from Danny, over his shoulder. “Ow. Fucker.”

     “Chill the fuck out,” Caleb scoffs, taking his keys from his pocket, and using a small one to take a bump from the baggy.

     He passes it back, and Jackie uses her nails to take a bump in each nostril. She rubs her nose afterward, looking like she's going to sneeze, but it passes, and Sam takes it from her. Sam had already taken a dollar bill from her pocket, and rolled it up. She jumps up from her seat and turns, dropping a bit of the white powder on the seat. She leans down and takes a quick, deep snort, dragging the bill along the cocaine.

     As Sam leans back, she extends it out to Harold, and he giddily accepts it. Dougie hits a bump in the road, though and Harold loses his grip on the bag, bouncing it around a couple times, before he spills it all over the place.

     “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” He looks up to find the rest of the van staring at him. Danny looks particularly perturbed. “Heh. My bad.”

     With great speed, Danny lashes out at Harold, striking him across the face with a hard left. Caleb reaches back to put a hand between them, and Amir helps as well. The girls watch and cheer on the violence, except for Katerina, who also tries to get in between the two.

     “I'm going to fucking kill you!” Danny screams.

     “It was an accident!” Harold retorts.

     Harold scratches in Danny's general direction. It's clear he's not a fighter.

     “Dan, sit down, man. It was an accident.” Caleb commands forcefully, but his friend is seeing red.

     “Guys knock it off, come on!” Katerina screams out as well.

     “Get back there and have them cut that shit out, they're rocking the van. I'm driving like a drunk!” Dougie yells at Caleb.

     Caleb undoes his seatbelt and climbs back in between the seats. With one hand he shoves Danny back down to his seat, and grips his collar tight.

     “I said knock it the fuck off! You hear me?”

     “Yeah, I hear you,” Danny growls raising his hands as he breathes rapidly.

     Caleb looks over his shoulder to make sure Harold is calm as well. Harold has a look of utter fear on his face, and Caleb then looks between them. Kat and Amir sit between the two of them, as well.

     “It was an accident. We've got plenty more drugs and booze. You need a time out. Tina trade spots with him. Kat, Amir, you two can sit between them, right?” Caleb inquires.

     Kat and Amir nod, returning to their seats. Tina gets up, and moves as Danny sighs, trading spots with her.

     “Treat me like a goddamn kid, man,” Danny complains.

     “Hey. Act like a child, get treated like a child. Everyone was having a grand ol' time; having a blast, then you had to fuck up the vibe,” Caleb shrugs. “Now there isn't going to be any more fighting the rest of the night, got it?” He looks around at everyone who agrees. “Good. Damn. Can't take the kids anywhere.”

     Caleb makes his way back to the passenger seat and buckles himself back in.

     “Good job, bro,” Dougie notes, patting his friend on the shoulder.

     “That took some nerve jumping in there like that,” Amir noted, grinning at Kat.

     “Couldn't let the boys have all the fun, right?”

     “Ugh. Typical male chauvinism, thinking only they can resolve the conflicts. News flash, women are just as capable of stopping wars as men are!” Sam hissed across at Amir, who stared back at her in confusion.

     “All – alright.”

     Harold stares at the floorboard, looking very much like a scolded puppy, before looking up at the others. There's an awkward silent tension amongst them all at the moment. He looks over to find Danny staring directly at him.

     “I'm going to kill you,” Danny mouths to him.

     Harold turns away slightly, as Dougie turns the radio on to break the tension.

CHAPTER XI

     The police office was more of a dungeon with a desk, than anything resembling an up-to-date department. The walls were faded brick, and the two individual cells were hardly enough to hold an average-sized man. The one desk sitting in the room was so littered with paperwork – and paper footballs – and paper airplanes, that it was hard to make out what color the furniture was.

     There was hardly room for the radio to sit on the very edge of the main desk. A very small desk with an old computer and printer sat off in one corner. The thing must rarely be used, as it had collected an impressive layer of dust. And in the far corner, a fresh pot of coffee brewed on a small stand. The coffee seemed to be the most cared for thing in the building.

     Young Deputy Michael Hadley, in his early thirties, leaned back with his feet propped up on the desk. His large-brimmed hat was lowered over his eyes, as his head rested back on his hands. He was in decent enough shape, with hair just starting to grey around the edges. His goatee was trimmed up, but thick; his tan uniform still relatively pressed from a day of not doing, well, anything.

     The old Sheriff strolled into the room, his eyes lowered to the ground. Williams had walked these halls so often over the years, he was certain he could do it blindfolded. When he came up to the Deputy sleeping on the job, he paused. The poor kid took the job expecting it to be easy. They all did. The old man made his way to the coffee pot, and grabbed a Styrofoam cup, pouring himself a straight black shot of that sweet caffeine.

     He sipped noisily from it, but this didn't seem to stir the Deputy. Williams cleared his throat and walked around the desk, examining the paperwork. Nothing new seemed to be added to the stack, since the last time he was in, short of the note from when old man Jenkins had called in from the bridge. Williams cleared his throat, and leaned down, examining the sleeping man.

     “Hadley?” he whispered.

     No movement.

     “Deputy?” Williams said a bit louder, but still in an overall soft tone.

     For his considerate attempt at waking the Deputy, Hadley snored. This irked the old Sheriff, who stood upright, and made his way behind the sleeping man. He raised the cup to his lips, and took another loud sip from the steaming cup of java, before reaching in his shirt pocket and pulling out a cigarette. He lit it, and took a long inhale, followed by another loud drink, and then cleared his throat.

     “MICHAEL!” the Sheriff bellowed.

     An explosion of sensory awareness hit the Deputy all at once, and he nearly fell back in his chair before jumping to his feet, and drawing his gun, looking around. His eyes wide with fear, confusion, and adrenaline. The Sheriff was bent at the waist, laughing hysterically, as the Deputy sorted out what had happened. He grumbled, holstering his gun, before crossing his arms over his chest.

     “Yes, sir?” Michael asked, not amused.

     The Sheriff stood upright mimicking the young Deputy, as he continued to laugh, and took another drag off the cigarette. “Can't take a joke very well, can you?”

     “I was just resting my eyes.”

     “You were snoring.”

     “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

     “Michael, you ain't married are you?”

     “No, sir.”

     “No kids?”

     “No, sir.”

     The Sheriff nodded to himself, staring into his coffee.

     “Why do you ask?” the Deputy inquired, lowering his arms.

     “Oh, I was just curious. Was thinking about my sweet Martha today, that's all. Look, can you do an old man a favor?”

     “Sure.”

     “Old man Jenkins' truck is down by the bridge. But Jenkins ain't there. I'm worried he done wandered into the woods, and you know he got the old-timers issue in his head.”

     “Yes, sir.”

     “I was wondering if you'd be willing to go down to the bridge, and take a look around the other side for me? I ain't one for walking much these days, and you're a bit younger. I need to go let his wife know what the sitch'iation is as well. Can you do that for me?”

     “Of course. I'll let you know when I find him. He couldn't have gotten too far.”

     “Much obliged.”

     The Deputy gathers his things, and heads for the door. When he gets to the entry of the room, he stops and turns around, noting the cigarette in the Sheriff’s hand. “You know it's illegal to smoke indoors, right, sir?”

     The old man chuckled, grinning at the Deputy. He glanced down at the cigarette as he flicked the ash on the floor.

     “You don't tell, and I won’t tell you was sleeping on the job. Savvy?”

     Hadley weighed this a moment, before nodding and exiting the room defeated. The Sheriff took another long drag of his cigarette, followed by a sip from his coffee.

     The cop car sat at the turn off for the dirt road that led down to the bridge. Hadley decided to park here, and search for Jenkins on foot. As he made his way towards the bridge, he scanned the tree lines, and tripped over a branch. He growled picking it up, and threw it into the woods.

     “Way to send the newbie out here to wander through the fucking woods! I'm old, I'm your boss, I don't have to do the shit work anymore, you do the shit work,” he mocked of Sheriff Williams and grumbled, as he made his way closer to the bridge. “Born and raised in Boston, I take this cake walk job nobody else wants, and they stick my ass out here in the woods searching for some crazy old codger. Not my fault he has Alzheimer’s. Put his ass in a home, or something.”

     The Deputy kicks a rock, sending it flying off the ledge past the bridge, and it falls into the water below. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and storms along.

     “Jenkins! Mr. Jenkins! You out there?!” He screams, as he stops at the edge of the bridge, turning around. He notices Ray's car sitting at the entrance of the bridge, and does a quick walk around it, assuming whoever it belongs too has already crossed over to the old town. He notes the lit pumpkins on either side of the entrance to the bridge, as he starts to cross over.

     As he strode across the bridge, he couldn't help but notice the various holes in the wood. None of them were particularly large, except for one off to the side. He made his way to it, and looked down to the water below.

     “Please don't be down there dead,” Hadley whispered as he knelt down to the hole, sticking his head down into it.

     Nothing. At least so far as he could see, but the river may have washed anything downstream as well. Hadley jumped though, when a loud neigh echoed across the bridge. He bangs his head on the wood, and groans grabbing his scalp, looking around. There's no horse to be seen.

     “Hello? Mr. Jenkins? Anybody out there?” He yelled, looking both ways down the bridge.

     After a moment of no response, he climbed to his feet, and continued his way across the bridge. As he walked along the path, he noticed the waning sun, and clouds coming in. It would be dark soon, and probably raining. He wasn't going to find the old man in that weather.

     “Mr. Jenkins! Deputy Hadley! We spoke on the CB earlier? You out there?”

     He peered into the trees, but there wasn't much to make out. They were thick in most spots. Bushes, and piles of fallen leaves hid a lot of the rest.

     “MR. JENKINS!” He screams out. Birds fly away at the loud noise, but still no response.

     He continues on down the path, as the buildings slowly come into sight. He stops at the same cooler everyone else has, and looks down at it, noting the absence of any owners.

     “This is Deputy Hadley, anyone out there? I'm looking for an elderly man, name of Jenkins! Anyone?” Motion in one of the upper windows of the nearest home catches his attention, but he can't make out the appearance. “Mr. Jenkins, is that you?”

     The body moves away from the window.

     “God damn it. I swear, if you're some kids trying to fuck with me, I'm going to taser each and every one of you! I promise you that!”

     He makes his way to the house, stepping in over the pile of scrap wood that used to be the door. Hadley takes his flashlight from his belt, and clicks it on, turning it around the dusty room. An old brick fire pit adorns the corner, and various pieces of furniture lie in shambles around the room.

     The Deputy makes his way through the room, and into the dining area, where the stairs going up wait on him. He stops at the bottom of the stairs, pointing the light up them.

     “Come on down? Police!”

     He waits for a response. Nothing. Then several steps echo on the wood above his head, and then stop.

     “Mr. Jenkins? Come on down, sir! I'm here to take you home!”

     Still no response. He exhales heavily, and storms half way up the stairs.

     “Look, Jenkins, I want to get back to the car before it starts pouring...” he cuts off half way through, as he shines the light at nothing.

     He slowly starts to turn on the stairs, and finds the Horseman towering above him on the ledge where the rail had long since broken away.

     “What the fuck?”

     The Horseman reaches down and grabs Hadley by the head, lifting him off the stairs with ease. He hangs there, several feet above the ground, as the Horseman's massive grip tightens on his skull. The Deputy beats at the Horseman's hands and arms, but to no avail. As the Horseman's grip tightens, blood begins to pour from Hadley's nose and eye sockets. He gags as bone and cartilage crack.

     “Nuhhhhhh – ahhhhhhhh!” He screams out as his skull caves in.

     The flashlight falls to the steps and bounces down to the floor below. The Horseman flexes once, applying more pressure, and the cop's Skull splits along the top, to his chin, brain puffing out like a muffin that was ready. Blood oozed down his face.

     The Horseman turned, and threw the officer's body against the wall behind him. The Horseman stands there a moment, before walking around the ledge of the stairs, and making its way down the staircase, heading back outside.