Making Monsters (3 page)

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Authors: Kassanna

BOOK: Making Monsters
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Malia’s heart beat stuttered at the slow smile Paul bestowed on her.
Down girl. You’re on a
mission, even if he hasn’t shared the details plus you can’t forgive that easily. Fuck that, sure
you can.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. She chuckled at the surprised look on
his face.

“What was that for?”

 

“For trusting me.”

 

“Malia, if there’s anybody in this world that I have faith in, it’s you.” He blinked owlishly
behind the lenses of his glasses.

She held her breath for those additional three little words.
I love you
. But, they never came.
He shifted and grabbed her hand; pulling her with him, they ran across the weed ridden, cracked
asphalt to the dark building that stood ominously by itself.

He threw himself against the side of the building with a thud, and she eased up next to him.
Malia tilted her head and gazed over at him.

 

“I am so sorry I bought you that Starsky and Hutch DVD collection. Paul, it’s not that
serious.” She moved around him to take the front position.

Keeping flush with the wall, she proceeded up the walkway. The building was a sallow
shade of gray under the pale beams of a rising moon. The slightly elevated path was flanked by
rusted iron bars. Green, climbing vines held tight to the worn metal, intertwining its limbs
through the gaping holes in the handrails. She twisted and tried to look through the doors. The
tinted glass didn’t allow her to see much past the faded welcome rug just beyond the door.

“I don’t suppose you have a key?” she spoke in a loud whisper.

 

Paul pursed his lips.

She shook her head.
I could so lose my job for this.
Reaching in her back pocket, she dug
out a lock pick kit and flipped it open. Malia duck-walked to the front entrance and started to
manipulate the locks; a few soft
clicks
and she was cracking the door open. Frantically, she
wiggled her fingers at Paul in an effort to speed him up. She prayed that the building didn’t have
a silent alarm. Sliding through the space she’d created, she let the door slip shut and re-engaged
the locks behind them. Cold air whipped at her hair from the vent directly overhead and sent an
icy chill down her spine.

Yanking Paul by the collar, she pulled him deeper into the darkness of an adjacent area.
They stood nose to nose, and the minty smell of his gum wafted over to her.

 

“Do you always keep law breaking materials on your person?” His breath tickled her cheek.
He pressed a small object into the palm of her hand.

“I learned a long time ago from my brother, D. J., that one never knows when they have to
be a criminal. Justice doesn’t always happen in black and white.” She stepped away, flicked on
the flashlight he’d given her, and took in her surroundings.

Malia heard him mumble something about not being the only one that has trust issues. She
shook her head and paced the perimeter of the room, looking for a way to the interior of the
building. She yanked on one doorknob; it didn’t budge. She moved on to the next handle,
surprised when the lock clicked, and the heavy wood shifted open. Malia hauled it wider. The
deep darkness of the hallway swallowed the thin beam she aimed down the passage.

She swung around and waved the ray low in Paul’s direction, and he s
trode up to her, briefly
squeezing her hand. He passed her and disappeared into the blackness. Malia trotted into the void
behind him, allowing the door to glide shut. With a heavy thud, it settled into the jamb and a
deathly quiet that surrounded them. A feeling of finality washed through her, in a last-nail-in-thecoffin kind of way. Unease skittered across her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. She dug
her nails into her palm and fought the urge to turn and flee. Swinging the light back and forth,
she kept close to Paul. He walked a few steps ahead, trying doorknobs as he passed. She
swiveled the flashlight again, and he was gone; she swallowed the panic that rose like bile in her
throat.

Rushing to the spot that she’d last seen him, she spun in a ci
rcle. In the distance, a door
slammed. Every light fixture in a long row above her head switched on. Malia staggered back,
flush to the wall. Sweat dotted her forehead despite the coolness of the corridor. She looked in
each direction of the passageway and placed her palm around the butt of her gun in its holster.
Low talking reached her ears, but she couldn’t make out the words being spoken. Sliding along
the wall, she gently turned each knob she came to. The voices were getting louder and were now
joined by the solid
thwack
of footsteps. Her heart beat sped up, drumming a rhythmic tattoo on
her ribs. Dampness moistened her palms. Malia slid her fingers around the metal handle and
twisted.

The door gave way, coasting open. She dropped to her haunches and slid past the doorjamb.
Shutting off the flashlight, she pushed the door closed. Then, she leaned back against
the wood beneath the clear glass inset. The dull thud of footfalls bled through the door before
stopping. Masculine voices were clear on the other side of the thin barrier.

“Ivan, I’m telling you, the silent alarm was blaring at my house. S-ssomeone is here.” A
man stuttered, fear clear in his tone.

 

“We’ve walked this building front to back and haven’t encountered anyone. It was probably
vermin that set off the alarm,” Ivan replied.

 

“It would have to be a mighty big rat to open a door,” the original speaker sneered.

A hard
thump
reverberated through the door, losing some of it sharpness. Malia scuttled to
the side so if it was opened, she’d be behind it. Tilting forward, she rested her ear on the thin
crack where the hinges were.

“I really don’t appreciate the attitude. Do you know why my name is Ivan Killiman?” The
Ivan guy spoke low.

 

There was a lull of silence.

“Because, I have no proble
m ripping off your head and pissing down the hole. Next time, I
suggest you keep your comments to yourself … your body parts are worth more to me than you
are whole,” Ivan huffed. “Come on, we’ll walk the building one more time.”

The
clack
of soles of their shoes slowly died away, and Malia heaved a sigh of relief.
Pushing up the wall, the rough texture pulled at her knit shirt. At least they hadn’t found Paul. Of
course, that wouldn’t stop her from murdering him for disappearing. Exhaling, she eased further
into the room. The dismal light through the glass insert in the door, cut a hazy swath through the
room. Careful to avoid the beam, she examined the area. All the bottles and Bunsen burners were
there, similar to Paul’s lab, but the layout was different. A low hum garnered her attention, and
she followed the sound. Tucked out of the way in a corner, sat a compact freezer.

Malia ran her palm along the sides, making sure there were no locks. Pushing the button on
her flashlight, she lifted the top and peered into its depths. The lid slipped from her fingers. The
freezer’s seal muffled the sounds of the cover falling into place. She wrung her hands
together.
You have got to be kidding me.
Picking it up again, she peeked into the interior and met
the cold gaze of a bodiless head.

Wide, waxy blue eyes stared up at her. Ice crystals clung to individual lashes, and a clear
layer of frost on the man’s skin reflected the light. His mouth was open to form an “o,” giving
him a look of surprise. The appendage looked familiar. Malia griped the head by the loose hairs
and lifted it from its cold home. She cocked her head, studying its features. Realization slowly
dawned.
The thing looked like Paul
. Replace the blue eyes with hazel, and she had a dead-ringer
for her man.

“What you got there?”

The words startled her, and the head slipped from her hands. The sound of glass shattering
filled the room as it made contact with the floor. She gripped the butt of her gun, swinging
around as she pulled it from the holster. The muzzle landed square in Paul’s chest, with her
finger centimeters from the trigger.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Have you lost your ever
-loving mind sneaking
up on me?” Malia reared back and harshly whispered. The back of her thighs bumped into the
freezer.

“I was looking for you. I walked into a room and thought you were behind me, but when I
looked up, you were gone. Then, I heard footsteps. So I stayed put.” Paul used his index and
middle fingers to push the gun barrel away from his torso.

He bent to pick up the head which now featured a smashed nose. The cracked ice gave it an
eerie, multi-dimensional look, like a 3D picture. She lowered her gun, holding the grip firmly in
case Ivan and his henchman hadn’t left and had heard the ruckus.

“Is that one of your missing body parts?” she murmured.

 

“Nope, he’s not mine.” He turned and took a few steps to the nearest counter. Quietly, he
started to pull drawers open.

 

“What the hell are you doing now?” she hissed.
“Calm down, those men are probably long gone. I’m looking for something to put this head
in.”

 

“Why?” She flashed the light at him.

 

“I’m taking it back to my lab. We need to run tests on it.”

 

“No! What we need to do is get the hell out of here.”

 

“Baby, we solved one mystery.” He held up the grisly head. “This might solve…”

They both turned their heads toward the door. The return of the voices interrupted their
conversation. The two men were still arguing. The unmistakable music of keys jingling
accompanied their steps.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t hear that noise, Ivan.”

 

“I heard it. We’ll just check all the rooms now. You take that side.”

 

Malia turned her gaze from the door to Paul and sighed, “You said something about them
being long gone?”

 

Paul wrapped his hand around hers and shut off the beam. “Be quiet, nobody likes a smart
ass.”

 

***

Paul put an arm around Malia’s waist and dragged her back, stuffing her into the narrow
space adjacent to the freezer. He waved his hands close to her face, motioning for her to stay
there. Grabbing the defrosting head by its wet hair, he twisted, looking for his own hiding spot.
Water dripped from its neck, spraying the floor and counters with fluid every turn he made. The
doorknob shook in its casing. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see in the dark. Across the room he
spotted a bank of folding doors.

He lifted the head to look it in the eye. His breathing quickened with the beat of his heart.
Droplets of water fell to the floor, forming a puddle of grayish liquid, and he knew he couldn’t
take the appendage with him. Setting it on the counter, Paul watched it roll lopsided on the
surface until it stopped and rocked, teetering back and forth against its flattened nose. He backed
away, crossing the room as the
snick
of the locks alerted him they’d finally located the right key.
The ball bearings on the bi-lateral door slid with minimal noise as he bent to fold himself into the
tight area. He slid the door in place as the shriek of dry hinges alerted him that the lab door was
opened. The
click
of the light switch, and a bright florescent light bathed the room, cutting
through the laths into his hiding place.

Paul rubbed at the middle of his chest, and his heart beat wildly against his hand. He
breathed through is nose, inhaling deeply in an effort to slow the racing organ. He moved his
head to peek between the slats, but he couldn’t see past the freezer. He hoped if he couldn’t see
Malia, the thugs wouldn’t see her either. He twisted his neck as far as he could and caught a
glimpse of the two men’s legs. They stood in the middle of the room; one in jeans and sneakers,
the other in slacks and loafers. The one in dress shoes strolled around the perimeter of the room,
before stopping at the pool of liquid settling alongside one of the lab’s work stations.

“Well, this didn’t find its way out the freezer by itself, Ivan.” The man held the defrosted
head by the hair and tapped it on his leg. It bumped and twirled around by its locks. The sallow
skin started to sag, falling away under the eyes to give the head a horrified look of surprise.
Liquid sprayed from its neck with every tap, staining the man’s pants a darker blue.

“Whoever was here couldn’t have gotten far. I don’t see anything in this room. You take the
next one, and I’ll take the one down the hall. We’ll work our way back to this area.” Ivan’s voice
held a note of disgust. “Jaysus, the boss is gonna be pissed about the head.”

“Makes me glad I don’t know who the boss is.” He tossed the head up. A dull thud was
followed by a scrape of metal. “He shoots, he scores!”

 

“Come on, we don’t have time to play. I have another pick up later, and I still need to get
dressed.” Fading footsteps accompanied the overhead lights snapping off.

 

Paul waited, ticking the seconds off in his head. Malia didn’t wait as long; she swung the
door open and thrust her hand at him.

 

“Come on!” She wiggled her fingers.

He gripped them and pulled himself free of the wedge he’d placed himself in. Paul glanced
over at the head sitting face up in the sink. With the elasticity and muscle tone gone, its cheeks
hung toward its ears, exposing white, even teeth and giving the face a vulgar smile. His hands
itched to take hold of it on the way out of the room. Malia inched around the doorjamb, gun held
high. She turned to stare at him.

“No matter what, keep running for the way we came in. I don’t care what you hear. You
don’t stop, and I will be right behind you.” She eased to the side wall, and he took off as quietly
as he could.

A man’s voice, he guessed belonged to Ivan, yelled out as he hit the exit, putting them back
in the lobby. Malia slammed the door shut and tugged a fake tree down to fall behind her.

 

“Go—go—go!” she screamed at Paul.

He hit the glass doors with a
whack
. The glass shimmied, and the metal shrieked as they
were pushed open. Paul bounded over the railing to the asphalt below. He glanced back long
enough to watch Malia mimic his maneuvers. There was a whine in the air, and then a
ping
. In a
flash of light, bullets hit the car next to him. Slowing enough to make sure she was beside him,
he headed for the cover of the transport van. She rounded the fender and kept running. He
followed her lead. Air burned in his lungs, and his thigh muscles screamed in torment from the
exertion. He pumped his legs faster andthanked God for technology as Malia pulled their car’s
key fob from her pocket and tapped the Unlock button.

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