Johnny Gruesome (9 page)

Nothing happened.

Eric raised Johnny’s knees and Gary lifted his torso upright. Johnny’s head pitched forward, his long hair hanging before his face.

“We should have taken him to the hospital,” Eric said. “We didn’t even try giving him mouth-to-mouth …”

Gary shook Johnny so his head rolled on his neck and his features became visible. “You want to blow into his mouth with his tongue sticking out like that? Go right ahead.”

A cold wind rose and Eric shook his head. “Then let’s get busy.”

They stood, struggling with Johnny’s body. Eric grimaced as they carried it across the bridge, with Karen following at a distance.

I’m nothing but unharnessed energy.

Scattered atoms.

Have to focus my anger.

Eric …

Go Linda Blair on his ass. Use his body to kill Gary and fuck Karen.

Penetrating his body …

I skirt his cerebral cortex and make myself at home in his brain. Synapses trigger and flare around me, and his emotions bombard: anger, fear, guilt
.

It’s overwhelming.

I don’t care!

Seeing the world through his eyes, I want to strangle Gary.

KILL HIM!

I will his hands to grab Gary’s throat
.

Nothing. Nada. Zip
.

Not even a muscle spasm.

I can’t control his mind or his body
.

SHIT! Possession must be “for demons only.”

Is this what I stuck around for?

To watch them go on with their lives while my body rots?

Not happening.

In an instant, I’m back in my own body.

It’s nothing but a shell now, but—

Home is where the heart is.

A flatulent sound split the silence, and Eric stared at Gary with disgust.

“It wasn’t me,” Gary said, looking at Johnny. “It was him. It’s just escaping gas.” He turned to Karen. “Get the door!”

Hurrying ahead of them, Karen opened the driver’s side door. Gary guided Johnny headfirst into the car, then he and Eric pushed the corpse across the seat until Johnny’s ass rested where it belonged. Gary ran around the car and opened the passenger door. Eric turned to Karen, hoping she would protest their actions, but she just passed a sleeve beneath her runny nose.

Gary hopped in beside Johnny with a determined look on his face, then grabbed the corpse by its shoulders and propped it upright. Johnny fell face-first into the steering wheel. Gary held him up with his left hand, then fastened the seat belt and shoulder strap and slid out of the car. He closed the door and Johnny slumped forward.

Joining Eric, Gary spotted something glinting in the pale light. Leaning across Johnny, he retrieved Eric’s unopened beer. He pulled the tab, triggering a soft explosion of foam. Eric flinched and wiped suds from his face. Gary took a single sip from the can, then poured beer over Johnny’s head, drenching his hair and leather jacket.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Toast to the dead,” Gary said. “Sign of respect.” He tossed the can onto the passenger seat.

“If you say so. Now what?”

Gary slammed the door and the dome light went out. “We give our man here a burial at sea.”

I don’t care how long it takes: their asses are mine.

They walked back along Willow Road, with only an occasional streetlight for guidance, their feet kicking snow. Gary clenched his hands into fists as Karen sobbed. Sobered by the cold, Eric put one arm around her shoulders. It felt strange, comforting Johnny’s girl. She leaned against him, making him feel needed.

We’re never going to get away with this
, he thought.

When they had gotten a quarter of a mile away from the bridge, headlights appeared in the distance.

“Get down!” Gary said.

They ran along a ditch, searching for a spot to hide, but snow had filled it. Leaping across it, Gary jogged to a nearby fence. Eric made the jump as well. Grabbing a wooden post for balance, Gary threw one leg over barbed wire and slid through the barrier.

Karen’s right leg disappeared into the ditch and she cried out. The headlights grew closer, the coughing sounds of an old engine louder. Eric grabbed her outstretched hands and pulled her out. They ran to the fence and Gary helped her climb between the wire strands.

“Hurry up!” Gary said.

Eric climbed through the same way he’d seen Gary do it, and the three of them huddled behind the post, their breathing labored. The truck turned left before reaching them and traveled a desolate dirt road with no streetlights. Within seconds, darkness and snowfall devoured it.

“Shit,” Gary said.

Karen covered her eyes with one hand. “That was close.”

Eric said nothing. What had he gotten himself into?

Murder,
he thought.
My best friend’s murder.

The light from passing cars splashed the dark windows of Johnny’s house.

“Nobody’s home,” Gary said.

“It’s nine thirty,” Eric said. “Charlie went downtown an hour ago.”

“Poor Charlie,” Karen said.

“Let’s go,” Gary said.

Emerging from the grape vineyard, the trio approached Gary’s truck, parked at the far end of the driveway. Gary climbed in and started the engine. Karen got in beside him; Eric slid beside her and closed the door. Gary allowed the truck to idle, its heater warming them.

“Let’s go over it one more time,” he said. “I don’t want any mistakes after we split up.”

Karen withdrew a Marlboro Light from the pack in her purse and stuck it between her lips. Her shaking hand could not strike a match. Gary held her wrist steady, allowing her to light the cigarette, and Eric unrolled his window a crack.

“Sorry,” Karen said, exhaling.

They ran through their story again.

“Remember,” Gary said. “We’re all in this together. If one of us sinks, we all drown.”

Eric and Karen nodded, and Gary shifted the truck into gear.

The truck prowled Main Street, deserted except for a few cars parked outside the bars. Listening to the steady sound of the windshield wipers, Eric gazed out the window at the gazebo in the town square and saw his reflection staring back. It took only nine minutes to reach his house, but it felt like forever. Passing the driveway, Gary pulled over to the side of the street, behind a dormant apple tree.

Eric studied his home, an uneasy feeling in his gut. His mother had left the outside light on for him. He pictured the Death Mobile idling in the driveway just that morning, when Johnny had picked him up.

“You waiting for an invitation?” Gary said. “You don’t need one.”

Karen looked at him, her lips trembling. “Take care of yourself, Eric.”

“You, too.” Eric got out and closed the door. Crossing the driveway, he heard the truck recede behind him. As he unlocked the front door, he scanned the neighborhood. Snow-covered rooftops reflected moonlight at the falling snow. He entered the foyer and closed the door as quietly as possible. His mother had also left on the upstairs hallway light. He hung his coat in the front closet, then crept upstairs. Tiptoeing to his room, he anticipated his mother’s voice even before he heard it.

“Eric?”

His heart skipped a beat. “Yes?”

“Did you turn off the front light?”

He didn’t remember. “Yes.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

In his room, he peeled off his sweater, then went into the bathroom. A pale, haggard countenance stared back at him in the mirror over the sink, and he brushed his teeth so hard his gums bled. He spat a mixture of blood and toothpaste, then ran water over it.

Water, rushing …

He shut off the tap, cut the light, and returned to his room, where he undressed in darkness. The streetlight cast a silver rectangle onto the ceiling as he crawled beneath the covers and buried his face in his pillow. A car passed outside, and the Death Mobile drove through his mind.

Johnny
…

His chest convulsed and he choked up; tears burned his eyes and mucus clogged his nose. He pounded his pillow, and the bed squeaked as he sobbed.

Johnny!