Dark Luck (A Suspense Thriller) (9 page)

“How about taking a bus? I have the money for a
ticket,” Zack said.

“Oh my God, you’re missing the point, man. Bus is so
boring. Don’t you want to have some fun? Don’t you want to go on an adventure?”

“Uh, okay.”

“Can you drive, by the way?”

“Sure.”

“But you don’t have a license yet, do you?”

“Fuck the license. I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do.”

“I’m just kidding, Zack. Rules are meant to be broken.
But before we get going, we need to buy you a hoodie and a pair of driving
gloves. They will turn out very handy pretty soon, I assure you.”

Choosing the victim turned out easier than Zack had
thought. As he sought to minimize the resistance he was going to meet, he
decided to find a female under twenty five who was not chubby. Jeremy advised him
against picking a cute faced girl.

“I don’t want this to become national news. It’s just
too much pain in the ass,” he explained. “So no hot blondes for you today,
buddy.”

What was the best place to find a fairly helpless young
woman with a car? In Zack’s opinion, nothing could beat a mall parking
structure, of which there were a few within a five mile radius from Aunt
Clarisse’s house. Of course, he could try to carjack a car parked in some dark
alley, but he considered it a bit too risky.

After selecting the location, Zack determined the time:
he decided to start the hunt around ten in the morning, when most men were at
work and thus could not come to the rescue of the poor broad that was going to
be his target. Zack asked himself if he should rape the girl, too—after all, he
was still a virgin and wouldn’t mind getting some pussy—and eventually elected
not to do it, striving to stay focused on the task at hand.

Once Zack came to the shopping mall, he checked if
there were surveillance cameras in the parking structure. Just as he had hoped,
the mall managers were cheap enough to have left the parking areas without
video monitoring. Then Zack assumed an inconspicuous position on the first
floor of the structure, about a hundred feet from the entrance and began the
wait. Luckily, it was only half an hour before the chick that matched the
profile walked in to get her car. 

“Let’s keep it clean, man,” Jeremy said. “We’re not
spilling blood this time. Strangle her. It’s not that difficult, I know you can
do it.”

For a few seconds Zack debated if he should strangle
her from behind or face to face. His choice fell on the latter since he was
very curious to see what the woman’s face would look like while he throttled
her.

“Excuse me, Miss, can I ask you a question?” Zack said
in a sweet voice as he approached his prey.

“Sure.” The woman turned to him and smiled. Yeah, being
a skinny fifteen-year-old boy had its advantages: no adult usually took you as
a threat.

“I was wondering if they have a Cheesecake Factory
here.” By the end of this phrase Zack had the woman pinned down to the driver’s
seat, with his hands squeezing her throat tightly. Honestly, he barely
remembered how he had found himself in this position; the previous five seconds
were a blur to him. The woman’s face quickly turned red as her hands were
pushing against Zack’s shoulders. Tightening his grip, Zack could physically
feel the life leaving the chick’s body. He also noticed he was having a rock
hard erection. Half a minute later, the woman’s eyes began to roll up; soon her
irises disappeared under her half-closed eyelids and you could only see the
white, which, if you asked Zack, was a revolting image.

He was still choking the woman when Jeremy said, “She’s
dead, buddy. Let’s haul ass.”

With surprising ease, Zack lifted the woman’s corpse
and stuffed it in the trunk. All this adrenaline must have given him additional
strength, he thought. He didn’t want to leave the body in the parking structure
because the longer it remained undiscovered, the longer the car theft would go
unreported. How much time did he need? Around five hours if he drove the speed
limit.

Then Zack put on the driving gloves (Jeremy had warned
him against leaving fingerprints inside the car), picked up the car keys from
the ground, and quickly surveyed his catch before getting behind the wheel. He
was pleased with his new ride: it was a lightly used Toyota Camry, a vehicle
that blended into the crowd perfectly.

“I’m still not sure what the point was of killing that
chick,” Zack said, driving out of the parking structure.

“Are you serious, man? I hope you’re not having second
thoughts. Well, what if I told you that a week from now this woman would have
run over and killed three young children with her car? Would you be more
comfortable with taking her life if you knew this tidbit of information? Would
this justify her death?”

After a short pause, Zack responded, “I guess so.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You see, Zack, there are people
that deserve to be eliminated and it’s your mission to take care of some of
them. I'm going to provide you with guidance to make your job easier.”

“Can you see the future?”

“It’s quite possible that I can.”

“This is awesome, man!”

“But would you be upset if you found out that the whole
running over thing was bullshit?”

“I would wonder why you lied.”

“Would you regret murdering her?”

“I would kinda feel weird that I killed her without a
reason.”

“No, no, buddy, there is a reason. It just might be a
bit different from the one I gave you, but I suppose that’s okay with you,
right?”

Zack shrugged his shoulders. “Why wouldn’t you just
tell me the real reason?”

“It’s too complex. And somewhat controversial. I prefer
not to burden you with it right now. Is that okay?”

“I guess so.”

“I’m glad you understand, buddy.”

9.

Yes, Zack was an understanding person. For example, he
could see why his parents had been so adamant about amputating Jeremy. Wouldn’t
you be shocked if the finger removed from your child’s hand over fourteen years
earlier began to grow back? And wouldn’t you be eager to have it chopped off
again
?
You sure would.

Was Zack scared when he discovered that his sixth
finger was coming back? Honestly, yes. In fact, he was almost terrified since
there was no rational explanation to his condition. But at the same time he was
excited and couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. Zack had always known
he used to have six fingers on his right hand: when, at the age of five, he had
inquired about the small scar between the middle and the ring fingers, his
mother had chosen not to sugarcoat reality and told him the truth.

“And then the doctor snipped it off,” she said and gave
him a hug.

Oddly, even though he was supposed to be happy about
his hand being restored to the
normal
condition, Zack found out that the
story of his extra finger had created a strange emptiness in his heart. For
some reason, he was a bit upset that his parents had made this decision for him
and that it had never occurred to them to ask for his opinion. He had a feeling
that he’d missed out on something significant, having lost that finger. 

Once Jeremy got going, it took him about three months
to complete the comeback, growing at a rather quick pace of one inch a month.
For the first few weeks, the sight of his new finger always made Zack think of
bamboo, the fastest growing plant on the Earth, some of whose species could
grow up to four feet in one day.

Zack wanted to name his new finger Sixtus. Why? First,
it sounded cool. Second, Pope Sixtus II was the name of the man with six
fingers on Raphael’s The Sistine Madonna, one of the most famous paintings
depicting the Virgin Mary and the Christ Child—famous among the
intelligent
people, anyway. Zack forgot how he had come to find out about this gorgeous
five-hundred-year-old painting, but he did remember why it had impressed him so
much: the image of the Pope’s six-fingered right hand (and you most likely
wouldn’t notice the extra digit unless you were told to look for it since it
was quite subtle) was incredibly fascinating and engrossing and he had been
excited to see that someone who had the same deformity as he did had ended up
friends with the Mother of Jesus.

The remarkable thing about the painting was the fact
that, as Zack found out later, Sixtus wasn’t actually a polydactyl and that
Raphael had added the sixth finger to show that the Pope had possessed a sixth
sense awakened by Initiation. As Zack learned about the hidden messages and
symbolism in The Sistine Madonna, he began to admire this masterpiece—and
Raphael—even more. But we digressed.

His new buddy already had a name, and it was not
Sixtus.

“Call me Jeremy,” the finger said. “I love this name.”

Where had Jeremy been all these years? And why had he
waited so long before deciding to come back?

Actually, the right question would be: ‘Was it Jeremy
that the surgeon removed from Zack’s right hand fourteen years ago or was it
someone—
or something
—else?’

It didn’t take Zack’s parents long to notice that the
sixth finger had begun growing back. Zack was thinking of finding a way to hide
Jeremy from his folks but soon realized that he wouldn’t have been able to come
up with a practical solution even if he were as smart as Einstein. Early on,
Zack had decided to keep his mouth shut about his new finger being able to talk
to him as he realized no one would believe it, so his folks had never found out
who his friend Jeremy actually was.

Having little natural curiosity, his parents decided to
abandon their investigation into the reasons for the extra finger’s return
after two orthopedic doctors had told them that more research was needed. They
spent no time debating whether they should or should not amputate the sixth
finger. Once it became clear that they were dealing with just a finger and not
an exotic form of cancer or somesuch, his parents started looking for a surgeon
who could perform the amputation in the most aesthetically pleasing way. And
they were very happy their health insurance covered this type of surgery, so
the operation was not going to cost them an arm and a leg.

10.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jeremy said after they
passed Hartford. “You are embarrassed to take orders from a fucking finger. Am
I right? And the whole concept of a talking finger must still seem a little
crazy to you. You’re probably afraid that you’re losing your mind.”

“No, I’m not. Why would I?”

“But you see, Zack, I only look like a finger. What I
really am is too difficult to explain, and I’m not in the mood to waste the
precious time on this. Does it make you feel better?”

“Well... Honestly, it kind of does make me feel
better.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And I know you’re not lying.
Did I tell you I can read your thoughts?”

“No.”

“Now you know. I think we’re going to get along nicely,
buddy.”

Zack nodded approvingly. “Yeah.”

“Frankly, I don’t really like
making
you do
stuff. I consider it cheating. I’d much prefer if you
wanted
to do these
things, buddy. People are the most efficient when they act on their own free
will.”

“It’s okay, man. We’re cool.”

“By the way, is it important for you to be on the side
of good? Is it a deal breaker for you, buddy?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s more important to you: to follow the arbitrary
rules of morality or to become someone who matters?”

“I guess I want to matter.”

“Great!” Jeremy paused. “You see, every story has at
least two sides to it. Come to think of it, there’s no right or wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Take a look at the court of law, for instance.
There are two absolutely opposite points of view on the same crime, on the same
situation, and both of them have a chance of being valid, it’s all just a
matter of coming up with a better argument. If there were the absolute truth,
the
pure truth
, every Supreme Court vote would be unanimous, which is not the
case. Therefore, there’s no right or wrong, buddy. There’s only interpretation,
nothing else.”

“Did the devil send you?” 

“The devil? Oh, of course: if someone goes against the
mainstream, they accuse him of being the devil’s spawn. Well, buddy, if you
look from this perspective, you can say I was sent by the devil. But I want to
let you know that my sender doesn’t have horns on his head or hooves on his
feet.”

11.

A few miles after they had crossed
into Massachusetts, a highway patrol cruiser caught up with Zack’s car, and
half a minute later the strobe lights went on, signaling Zack to pull over.

“Whatever you do, man, don’t get out of the car,”
Jeremy said. “And I suppose you realize this guy will have to die.”

Jeremy was correct. Since Zack had no driver’s license,
the cop was going to confiscate the car and it was only a matter of time before
the police found the dead body in the trunk. All in all, killing the patrolman
was a more sensible option than trying to outrun him.