Authors: Wodke Hawkinson
Sue hung her head in shame, but
held her tongue.
“Religious people crack me up. Look
around you.” He held out his arms and spun slowly. “All this and for what?
There’s no glory in this kind of opulent waste.” He gestured toward the cross.
“And that. That totally cracks me up. Some miscreants crept in here, probably
self-proclaimed anarchists, and turned a cross upside down. Like they were
making some kind of bold statement. What’s it supposed to represent? An
insolent poke to the eye of God? Some lame-ass homage to Satan?” Zeke was
genuinely amused. “The joke’s on them. Neither one exists.” He took a picture
of the defaced symbol. “They probably scurried back to their mothers’ basements
and snickered into their sweaty palms over the audacity of their act, their
brave
crime against the church. People like that are the funniest of all. They’ll go
to all kinds of extremes to be cool, and they just end up looking like fucking
morons. What do you think they say when their lives are on the line? Huh? Well
let me tell you what they say. They cry out to
God
to save them, the
very God they claim to reject and despise. Hypocritical douche bags.”
Sue kept quiet, letting Zeke vent
until he got it out of his system.
When they’d entered the sanctuary,
Sue noted the rows of dusty pews with the confessionals along the side, their
curtains tattered and limp. She felt nearly as lifeless herself, overcome by
exhaustion and the debilitating effects of shock.
She gazed up at the lofty arches
high overhead. Light streamed through the remaining panes of stained glass and
multi-colored beams danced over a mural of Jesus and his disciples, damaged but
still heartrending. A sweeping staircase, minus sections of its banisters, led
to the upper levels. Toward the front of the church, a stone angel watched with
sad eyes as if presiding over an invisible congregation, ghosts of past
worshippers. Sue yearned for the angel to come to life, lift her up in its
comforting arms, and fly her away from the nightmare in which she was trapped.
Zeke had been snapping photos of a
headless statue. All that remained was the jagged stump of its neck. Suddenly
he stopped and looked at the bag Sue carried. “I’ve got a
great
idea.
Bring me that sack.”
Sue willingly relinquished her
burden, glad to be free of its weight. In the next second her relief turned to
horror as Zeke removed her favorite skirt from the sack and unwrapped it to
reveal Brenda’s head. He held it by the hair, and it swung slowly under his
hand like a macabre pendulum.
“Oh my God! Zeke! What have you
done? Did you have to take her head?”
Zeke looked from the head to Sue.
“What? I just got me a little trinket to remember Brenda by. But it’s too big
to hang on a keychain, so I just had an inspiration.” He smiled broadly.
“You’re going to stick it on this statue. It needs a head and we just happen to
have a spare.”
Sue started backing up as Zeke
offered her his trophy. Brenda’s half-closed eyes were dull, her mouth slack.
The stub of her neck was still sticky with blood. “No. No! I can’t. I won’t.”
Two long steps brought Zeke
face-to-face with Sue. “You will not tell me no. Not now. Not ever. Do you
understand?”
Sue cringed under his iron gaze.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“Alright then. Take ole Brenda’s
head. I’ll lift you up so you can get it up there. You’ll probably have to
twist and shove on it to get it to stay.” He waited. “Come on, Sue. Now!”
Sue moved between Zeke and the
statue. She timidly took the head by its hair.
“You can’t get it up there like
that. Jesus Christ. Get hold of the sides. Grab the ears if you have to, like
handles.”
“I just
can’t
do this,
Zeke!”
“I’m not giving you a choice!”
Sue adjusted her grasp and Zeke
lifted her by the waist. She gagged as she placed the head on the empty neck.
It almost fell off, but she quickly grabbed it, twisting it into place. When
she let go this time, it remained.
“Okay. Put me down.” As soon as her
feet hit the ground, Sue knelt, grasping her stomach, and took deep breaths,
fighting the urge to throw up.
She remained on her knees as Zeke
recorded the artwork for posterity.
Zeke walked over to Sue and took
her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Come on. I want to go upstairs.”
Sue followed meekly behind.
The upper levels in the rear of the
enormous structure split into two separate wings of dormitories, one half
probably for long-gone priests and functionaries, the other for nuns. The small
rooms, some of them still furnished with decrepit beds, lined the hallways.
They retraced their steps to the head of the stairs and Sue looked down. She
was struck with a sense of vertigo; it was a long drop to the marble floor
below.
A third hallway led straight from
the stairway. “We still need to look down this hall,” Zeke said, contemplative.
“There are so many rooms to choose from. I wonder which one we should use?”
He edged closer to Sue, backing her
toward the dangerous drop-off.
“Watch out,” she said. “I could
fall.” Her foot slipped over the edge and she clutched at Zeke’s arms to steady
herself.
Zeke peeled her grasping fingers
from his sleeves, held tight to one of her hands, and shoved her.
She screamed as she lost her
balance and felt herself falling backward. The drugs slowed her reflexes; she
couldn’t right herself. At the last second, Zeke jerked her toward his body and
pulled her close. In a low voice, he admonished her. “You’re so clumsy, Sue. You
almost fell.” He bent to nuzzle her neck as he danced her away from the
precipice.
She shoved away from him, and
backed against the safety of the wall.
“You pushed me,” she yelled in his
face.
With a slow smile and boyish shrug,
the same mannerisms that used to melt her heart, he stepped toward her. “It’s
not my fault you’re a klutz. Don’t blame me.” He took her elbow and propelled
her down the one remaining hallway. “Good thing I had a hold on you. You’d be a
bloody splat on the floor right now. But do I hear a thank you? Not an ounce of
gratitude.” He looked down the corridor. “Still I put up with you.”
Sue’s body buzzed from the
adrenaline overload as Zeke led her into one of the rooms and eyed the
interior. It was an outer office, lined with bookshelves, empty now except for
rodent droppings. He opened the only other door in the room and found a
decent-sized bedchamber, bed still intact.
“This must have belonged to the big
cheese.” Zeke admired the brass head and foot boards. Stuffing protruded in
many spots, and more droppings littered the surface. The light from the small
windows also revealed a straight-backed chair and a dresser.
“What’s in here?” Zeke pulled open
another door, revealing a small restroom, complete with walk-in shower. “Oh,
yeah. This was no flunky’s room. I like this. It’s perfect.”
“Perfect for what?” Sue wished she
could take the question back when she saw the sadistic glitter in Zeke’s eyes.
“Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“But baby, I’m setting this whole
thing up just for you.” He blew the dust off the surface of the dresser and set
his camera down. With one quick movement he flipped the mattress over,
revealing a much more acceptable surface. “This is better,” he said with a sigh
of satisfaction. “Take off your clothes.”
“In a church? Zeke!”
“Are you telling me no? Besides,
it’s not a church anymore; it’s just a building.” His tone turned snide as his
mood shifted. “Don’t go all pious on me. We both know that you’ve sinned big
time.” An odd smile raised the corners of his lips. “After all, you’re a
killer.”
“I’ve never killed anyone!” Sue
exclaimed.
Zeke crossed his arms and gave her
a skeptical look. Her eyes darted around the room, but he stood between her and
the door. “You were there when it happened. You’re an accomplice; that’s pretty
much the same thing. Face it, babe. We’re a team. Like Bonnie and Clyde. You’re
just as culpable as I am. The police will agree with me on this; you can take
my words and bank them. So what do you say we cut the crap and you just take
off your clothes like I asked you?”
He pulled the cord from his camera
and used Big Ben to cut one side, making the thin strap longer. He dropped his
knife on the dresser and twisted the garrote around his hand as he approached
her.
With trembling fingers, Sue removed
her coat and blouse. Goosebumps sprang up on her flesh. Stripping the rest of
her clothing away, Sue stood shivering before him, arms crossed over her body.
“Turn around.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, you’re naked. Can’t you
think of
any
reason I’d want your backside to me?” Zeke fiddled with the
cord in his hands, watching her intently.
Filled with trepidation, Sue turned
away from him. Immediately, the strap he held was
tight
around her neck. Zeke applied pressure, pulling Sue against himself.
Sue was unable to breathe. She
struggled frantically to get her hands under the cord, slapped at Zeke’s head,
and kicked her feet.
Zeke panted behind Sue and licked
her ear. “You like this, don’t you, bunny? Oh, I know you want it; I can tell.”
He ground against her bottom, his breath coming faster.
Urine ran down Sue’s legs and
dripped on Zeke’s boots.
“God damn,” Zeke complained. He
released the rope and caught Sue as she collapsed, fighting to pull air into
her aching lungs. “You’re damn gross. Do you know that?”
Zeke reached around and held her
up, massaging her breasts and pinching her nipples. Once Sue regained some
control, he turned her around and kissed her neck. “Ah, sweetie, did that
hurt?”
“You psycho bastard!” Sue wheezed.
“Psycho bastard? I’ll show you
psycho bastard. Now, get your ass on the bed.”
The hard edge in his voice brooked
no refusal. She fell onto the decayed mattress and, with effort, rolled to her
back. Quick as a flash, Zeke had the camera cord around her wrists, pulled them
over her head, and secured them to the rusted metal headboard.
“Let me go!” Sue begged. “You don’t
have to tie me up! I’ve always done whatever you wanted. Zeke, please!”
“Too late, bunny.” Zeke drew back
his fist and punched her in the face, breaking her nose. Blood spewed.
Stunned for a second, Sue blinked
in disbelief and then broke into hysterical sobs. She watched with terrified
eyes as Zeke calmly turned to the camera, and set it to record.
He removed his coat and draped it
over the chair. Winking at Sue, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his
hips. Yanking her legs apart, he jumped between them, achieving penetration
with one thrust.
She pushed with her heels and
bucked, trying to throw him off. Blood from her nose threatened to choke her.
Swallowing hard, she cleared her throat of the thick liquid and howled. She
whipped her head from side to side, trying to avoid Zeke’s burning eyes and hot
breath.
“Yeah, baby. Keep moving. Feels
good.” Zeke grunted as he filled her with his seed.
When he finally pulled away and
stood, he was panting. “I have something to tell you. Are you listening? Pay
attention now; this is important.” He leaned over and caught his breath before
continuing. “It’s over between us, Sue. I guess you’ve figured that out by
now.”
Sue could only whimper.
“You know what I’m going to
remember most about you? Do you?” He tapped her on the forehead with a stiff
finger, before shaking his head sadly. “No, I doubt if you do, so I’ll tell you
what it is. Your insipid, mind-numbing gullibility. It ceased to be amusing
days ago.”
Grabbing Sue’s skirt from the
floor, Zeke wiped at the blood on his face and shoulders and tossed the soiled
garment into the corner. As he fastened his pants, he scolded her. “You ruined
my favorite t-shirt, you pig. And pissed on my boots. But I guess that’s okay.
Things are about to get really messy anyhow.” He threw his head back and howled
wolfishly, “Sue-eeee!”
Oh, god! He’s completely lost
his mind.
Sue wrestled violently against her bonds.
Zeke slid Big Ben from its sheath
and grinned down at her. “Let’s play, Sue.”
“Shouldn’t have had so much
coffee,” Will grumbled as he pulled into a rest stop. His phone rang as he was
washing his hands. He dried them quickly and glanced at the caller ID; he
didn’t recognize the number.
“Will Falstaff,” he said, as he
hurried back to his car.
“This is Detective Dane Alter from Four
Falls. We got a report back from Sheriff Halloday over in Chamberlain County.
Thought I’d update you on what he found in that barn you mentioned, you know,
as a professional courtesy.”
“Absolutely.” Will slid into the
driver’s seat. “Let me put you on speaker, Detective. Just a second.” He
started the car and turned up the heat. “Okay, go ahead.”
Dane continued, “Your hunch was
right, Falstaff. Halloday sent a deputy out to look around and he found a
shallow grave marked by a bunch of wilted daisies in one corner of the barn.”
“The remains?” Again, Will felt a
shock much like a blow to his midsection.
“Female. But there wasn’t a body,
only a head.”
Will choked out one word.
“Description?”
“It’s not your girl.” Dane’s voice
was kinder than it had been in Four Falls. “This one has been in the ground for
a while; although, the area had been tampered with very recently.”
Will pulled onto the highway.
“Anything else?”
“Yes. The footprints of two people
in the dirt floor. Oh, and a pool of vomit. Fresh.”
“Have you got an identity yet on
the remains?”
“Not officially, but we’re checking
into that missing girl on the poster.”