Johnny Gruesome (7 page)

The speakers blasted screeching vocals:

Gotta run, gotta hide, gotta get high …

Gotta be free!

Gotta run, gotta ride, gotta go fly …

Gotta be meeeeeeeeeee!

8:00 p.m.

The snowfall intensified as the Death Mobile roared over Willow Road, a narrow stretch of hard dirt leading out of town. They passed vacant pastures, dilapidated farmhouses, and moonlit silos. The dull silhouettes of pine trees separated the stark white surface from the black sky.

Johnny worked on another beer while Karen smoked a cigarette and Gary bounced his head to a Slipknot tune. Eric rocked in his seat, his vision blurred. He fumbled for a beer, knocking over empty cans. Locating the last one, he pulled its tab but failed to crack it open.

Johnny glanced at the rearview mirror. “How’s it going, Eric?”

Eric blinked. “Round and round …”

Looking at each other, Johnny and Karen burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny? I’m not drunk.”

They kept laughing until they heard Gary snort something up each nostril.

Johnny’s eyes turned cold. “Not in my car, Gary. I don’t need Chief Crane finding any of your shit on my floor the next time he pulls me over.”

“Okay,” Gary said in a distant voice, his body trembling.

“I can’t believe Milton fucking suspended me,” Johnny said, forgetting about Gary. “All because of Kumler and that bitch, Mrs. Crane. All three of them are on my list.”

Eric sighed. There was no reasoning with Johnny when he got this drunk and this angry. They passed a diamond-shaped yellow metal sign that said: BRIDGE MAY BE ICY.

“All right,” Johnny said, excitement rising in his voice. He crushed his empty can and threw it on the floor.

Sniffling, Gary wiped his nose on the back of his hand. Falling snow glowed bright white in the headlights.

Johnny clenched the steering wheel. “Hang on.”

Eric’s stomach lurched as the Death Mobile accelerated.

The speedometer reached forty-five.

Karen sat up straight. “Slow down, Johnny.”

“Who are you bossing around?”

The speedometer reached fifty.

Gary sat forward. “That’s fast enough, Johnny.”

“Fuck you.”

Fifty-five.

Eric said, “Come on, Johnny …”

Johnny’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Fuck you, too.”

Sixty …

A streetlight illuminated the skeletal structure of a wooden bridge surrounded by snow-covered trees.

Karen said, “You’re going to get us killed!”

“Fuck all of you!”

The speedometer neared sixty-five.

In a blur of motion, Gary sprang from his seat, his left arm encircling Johnny’s throat.

“Gary!” Karen said.

Gagging, Johnny released the steering wheel to claw at Gary’s arm, but Gary locked his right hand around his left wrist. The car drifted to the right side of the road, toward thick trees. Karen turned in her seat and reached for the wheel, but her shoulder strap held her back. Unbuckling her seat belt with frantic fingers, she seized the wheel and corrected their trajectory.

Eric clamped a hand on Gary’s shoulder. “Cut it out!”

Gary released his grip on Johnny’s wrist and drove his right elbow straight back into Eric’s chest, slamming him against the backseat. Dropping his beer, Eric gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of him.

Lit from beneath by the dashboard lights, Johnny’s face turned scarlet. Reaching behind his head, he groped for Gary, who locked his hand on his wrist again, his body trembling as he clenched his teeth.

Karen shouted, “Stop it, you’re killing him!”

The Willow Creek Bridge grew larger, and Johnny wrested control of the wheel from Karen. Aiming the Death Mobile at the left railing, he floored the gas pedal.

“No!” Karen’s high-pitched scream rose above the music. She tried to retake the steering wheel, but Johnny’s grip proved too strong. He gave her a determined grin, his eyes blazing.

Her hands still on the wheel, she watched as they angled onto the bridge, the trees beyond the railing coming into focus. Her heart pounded in her chest.
We’re all going to die!

She grabbed the emergency brake with both hands and jerked it with all her strength. A sudden change in their momentum sent her flying sideways into the dashboard, uncertain whether the jarring impact had resulted from the brakes locking or the car crashing through the railing.

Eric slammed against Karen’s seat, pain lancing his right shoulder. The Death Mobile stopped moving, and the streetlight on the bridge shone through the windshield. Gary had pitched forward, as well. Reaching along the door, he disengaged Johnny’s seat and leaned against it, pressing Johnny against the steering wheel and causing the horn to blare.

Eric shook his head, fighting to clear his mind. He heard Gary’s angry voice over the music, and turning his head, saw him continuing to choke Johnny, his face a mask of rage.

“Did you think you were going to kill us? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Reaching over Johnny, Gary switched off the ignition. “Goddamn it!” The car stopped vibrating and the music died. “Goddamn
you!
”

Wincing, Eric pushed himself off Karen’s seat. Gary slid his right arm around Johnny’s throat, freeing his left hand to jerk the door handle. The door opened, triggering the dome light, and frigid air crept into the car.

Karen groaned, her features twisted in pain.

Eric saw Gary reach down to the floor with his left hand. Then he heard the chinking of metal. Gary pulled a heavy chain into view, which Eric recognized: Johnny kept it coiled on the floor in the backseat for winter emergencies. Gary threaded the chain around Johnny’s jacket collar, pulling leather taut against flesh.

Eric lunged at Gary, who stepped out of the car, dragging Johnny after him like a dog on a leash. Eric collapsed halfway over the seat and the pain in his shoulder doubled. He pulled the seat back and clambered over it, trying not to kick Karen. Gary spun Johnny around on the chain, using his weight against him, and smashed his head into the door, which slammed shut in Eric’s face. The dome light darkened.

With a dazed expression, Karen sat back, her hair disheveled. Seeing the struggle between Gary and Johnny, her eyes filled with disbelief, and she turned to Eric. “Do something!”

As Eric reached for the door handle, Johnny’s body thudded against the door again and the car shook. Johnny’s face flattened against the window, his eyes bulging and his tongue protruding. Karen’s scream sent a tremor down Eric’s spine. He pulled the handle, but Gary braced one leg against the door, keeping it shut. Eric reached for the car keys, intending to start the engine and back the car up.

Gone.

Gary had taken the keys! Eric turned back to Johnny, expecting to see his friend’s eyes pleading for help. Instead, he saw an expression of such uncompromising rage that he froze. For an instant, staring into Johnny’s hate-filled irises, he thought he saw himself from Johnny’s point of view. Then he realized his reflection in the glass overlapped Johnny’s features. Still screaming, Karen pounded his back.

Johnny slammed an open hand against the window. Ignoring Karen, Eric pressed his open palm against the glass, spreading his fingers wide. Johnny clawed at the frost, drawing his clenched fingers through it. Then his eyes rolled up in their sockets and his body convulsed. His hand fell away, and he collapsed, disappearing from view.

The dome light came on again as Karen opened the passenger door. She got out and ran around the rear of the car, her screams trailing off, then growing louder. Eric clambered after her, cold air numbing his face. He joined her on the other side of the car, his mouth opening in mute horror.

Gary stood over Johnny, the chain hanging in his right hand. Johnny lay on his back, staring up at them with upturned eyes, his chest still. Gary’s breath came in ragged gasps, vapor streaming from his mouth and nostrils like cigarette smoke.

Karen sank to her knees. “Oh, God …”

Eric looked at Gary, who wiped his nose on the back of his left hand. Gazing at Johnny’s discolored features, he stepped forward, crouched, and felt for a pulse. Snowflakes landed in Johnny’s eyes, melted, and ran down his cheeks like tears. Eric looked up, panic in his eyes as he shook his head.

Karen’s sobs grew into a single wail.

P
itch-black darkness
.

No pain. No cold. No feeling.

Nothing.

Am I dead?

FUCK!

Gary swung the chain over his head, faster and faster, until it whistled over their heads. He released it, and they watched it soar into the darkness over the creek. A moment later, they heard the loud cracking followed by a small splash.

“You asshole.” Eric rose without realizing it. “You fucking asshole!” He charged at Gary and swung at him, but his fist missed its mark.

Gary wrapped an arm around him and pivoted on one heel, forcing Eric against the railing. As pain shot through Eric’s back, he recalled Johnny using a similar move on Todd that morning. Gary pressed his right forearm against Eric’s throat. Eric’s head hung over the railing, and his legs spread apart in the snow. He shoved Gary’s forearm with both hands.

“Cool it,” Gary said through clenched teeth, maintaining his choke hold.

Grunting, Eric continued to struggle.

“Cool it.”
Gary applied more pressure, cutting off Eric’s oxygen.

He’s going to kill me, too!
Eric relented and Gary removed his arm and stepped back. Massaging his throat, Eric gasped for air.
He’s insane!
Grabbing the railing with one hand, Eric turned and gazed at Willow Creek below. Snow covered the muddy embankment, and pine trees waved in the wind. The sound of water rushing beneath the ice rose to meet him. Bile climbed his throat, and he covered his mouth.

Gary jerked him around by his collar. “Don’t you dare get sick! We can’t leave any evidence behind—not even your barf.”

Eric stared at Gary, aghast. “What are you talking about?”

“We have to make this look like an accident.”

“We
?” Eric struggled in Gary’s grasp. “No way. You did it.
You
killed him!”