Kobe (14 page)

              He had a knife in his hand, I thought he was going to stab me, but he went after Tamara.

              "You broke my heart, you stupid cunt!" He lunged.

              I grabbed his arm before he could get close. Something inside me snapped and I went to town on that piece of shit. I pulled him into an ally.

              At first, it was just fists, but I wasn't satisfied. The ammonia and metallic scent of his blood enticed me.

              I chomped into his neck and sucked every bit of life from him. The other homeless people just stared at me.

              I blacked out.

* * * * *

              When I woke up, I was back at my apartment in Columbus, alone. I didn't know how I got there, or what happened.

              Manning told me Tamara dropped me off a couple nights ago, pissed off that I fed on someone else, especially out of anger.

              She said that she was never coming back.

              I knew Manning and Tamara were close, but that was the first time I found out that he had our same condition. He poured me a shot of whiskey, and we talked for a while. Manning explained that I had to keep my urges maintained. How hard it was for us to be in control, especially as men with all the raging testosterone. It was so much to process.

              I got in my car and drove, not to find her. I had no clue where she went anyhow. Instead, I went back home to Kobe.

              When I was a kid and got down in the dumps from a girl breaking up with me, or when I just needed to sort shit out, I'd go back to the weeping willow where we rescued Karen.

              When I ventured into the woods later that night, instead of swimming or hiking, I decided to hunt.

Chapter XVII

Timber

             
Leroy's fingers clasp together above his green mohawk.

              In prayer.

              In hope.

              In search of forgiveness.

              The steel hook no longer instills pain in the nerve endings near his spine, neither does his missing tongue. In fact, pain is no longer a focus.

              Even the most devout atheist begins to question the realities of heaven and hell during their last moments on earth.

* * * * *

              The sun shines through the circular sky light in the Gaines real estate office.

              "You can't get me a lower interest rate?" Matt, a rotund gentleman in a shirt and tie whines.

              Jason Gaines, or Jaybird to his ghetto ruffians, sits on the deciding side of a mahogany desk. "Matt, I wish I could buddy." Jay's elbows lean on a desktop calendar full of appointments. "I'm not the bank." His walnut sized knuckles rest beneath his clean shaven chin. "From the information they found on your credit report, it's a risk. The bigger the risk, the higher the APR. I've knocked the price down quite a bit from the original cost, and purchased your home for ten percent ABOVE the recommend appraisal."

              Jason leans back in his leather executive desk chair.

              "I know, Jason, I know." Matt shakes his head forcing the fat around his neck to jiggle. "Alright, give me the papers."

              Jaybird slides a stack of mortgage paperwork to the middle-aged man. "I don't want you to make this deal if you don't think it's right," Jason hands Matt a black and silver pen with Gains Mortgage etched in the side.

              "It's better than anything else in my price range." Matt leans forward to review the paperwork. "Hell, I looked at a house Steve Markinson showed me for two hundred thousand, and it barely had a backyard." Matt begins signing the next thirty years of his life away. "No one else keeps things as cheap in this business as you do."

              "I appreciate that Matt, I do." Jason walks to a book case. On one of the shelves is a crystal decanter filled with aged whiskey, an ice bucket, and four rocks glasses. He picks up ice cubes with a set of tongs and puts them in two glasses.

              "I certainly need one of those right now." Matt says.

              "Congratulations on your new home." Jason pours the booze and hands Matt a glass.

* * * * *

              Curt's cabin bustles like the Bayside building did a few hours earlier. Two dead bodies in one day put a drastic strain on the town.

              Detectives Marley and Daniels peruse the scene. It was supposed to be a simple missing person case, but all three head detectives agreed this was more than that, Travis included.

              "Damn shame," Marley says, "she was a sweet girl, and he used her like..." Marley hushes his voice, barely able to make out the words, "like a goddamn fuck-toy."

              "Jesus Marley!" Daniels says sternly but with little volume.

              "I wish I coulda cut that assholes tongue out myself," Marley hisses. He inspects the dirty mattress with a pair of latex gloves. Flies buzz around the darker spots where Katie's bodily fluids soaked through the sheets. "I've been on the force, what, bout ten years?"

              "About." Detective Daniels nods his head slowly.

              "We been knocking around cases together for a decade, Daniels, a fuckin' decade, and I ain't never seen any shit like this."

              Plain clothes officers and the boys in blue haul off anything that can be used as evidence. Marley admires their handiwork, but turns his nose up in disgust at the situation.

              "We should've followed the lead, Marley," Detective Daniels paces around the basement.

              "Did you expect it?" Marley sheds his cool composure for a moment, letting his feelings get the better of him in front of fellow officers. And why shouldn't it? Marley didn't know more than her first name, but she always kept his coffee full and cracked a joke or two.

              "No one expects the Sheriff's brother to be the bad guy, Marley, but we all had our suspicions. We were running out of options. We contacted everyone," Daniels says.

              "Where's Judd now?" Marley asks.

              "He went to Saint Anne's Hospital with Travis, I'm sure he'll stop by Curt's room as well."

              "They guarding both rooms?" Marley lets the information fall out of his lips a little too quick for comfort. The other cops appear to open up their ears. Marley notices the sudden tension rise, and backs down a bit. Even if killing this son of a bitch does cross his mind, only a fool would jeopardize his career for a slimy dirt bag on his way to life without parole.

              Best to keep it behind the eyes so to speak.

              "I'm not sure if they'll be guarding Travis or not, but I'm betting they're keeping a close eye on Curt," Daniels shoves his hands in his pockets, "as soon as word breaks he killed Katie, everyone will want his head on a platter."

              "Or his tongue," Marley pushes the joke out and forces a smile.

              "You ain't right Marley."

              When you’re the comedian, and generally the one people go to for a welcome one liner, any change in your role is documented in the brains of the public.

              Marley knows it.

              It's always best to keep in character.

* * * * *

              Austin flips through channels on the television with Krystal's head nuzzled in his lap. The strands of her brown hair shimmer in contrast to his green basketball shorts.

              "Hey guys, what's up?"Jessica walks down the stairs.

              "Hey girl, I didn't even know you were home," Krystal rolls off Austin's lap and sits up.

              "I haven't been here long," Jessica plops on a love seat, “I went over to Katie’s and she still isn’t there, I’m really worried about her. I’ve talked to her mom and sister, and they’ll be coming here Tuesday.”

              "What time do you have to go to your mom's?" Krystal asks.

              "I'm not. I just told Billy that so I didn't have to hang out with him tonight," Jessica leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees. "his hood-rat friends are always there. Most of them're cool, but the junkies that stop through are shady. Like these two nasty, homeless guys, Leroy and Skaggs."

              "Sounds like a name for a seventies cop show." Krystal grins.

              "I remember those idiots from school." Austin gets up from the couch and walks into the kitchen. "Skaggs was a piece of shit, then, almost as much as he is now. He was always getting too fucked up and puking, or passing out. They dropped out my sophomore year."

              "The one that creeps me out is Leroy," Jessica says, "he cornered me one night when I was coming out of the bathroom. He kept telling me how pretty I looked, and rubbing up against me," she shivers in disgust, "Billy walked back there to get something out of his room, but I wonder what would've happened if he didn't."

              "Did you tell Billy?" Krystal asks.

              "Skaggs and Leroy spend too much money with him," Jessica says, "Billy would've listened, but when push comes to shove he's going to choose money over me."

              "Want a beer?" Austin grabs a handful of cans from the refrigerator and brings them back to the couch. "Just hang out here, Jess, Rob's coming over after work with a bottle of tequila."

              "Sounds fun," Jessica accepts a beer from Austin, "I just can't deal with Billy anymore. I mean, he's still super hot, and we've been together a long time, but I never noticed how stupid he was until now."

              "Rob's really cool," Krystal hints.

              "I know he's really cool and super sweet," Jessica curls up her nose, "but he's not attractive," Jessica looks at Austin, "sorry Austin."

              "Why would I be offended?" Austin cracks open a can of suds and sits back down next to Krystal. "If anything, it's my fault for taking the looks, athletic ability, intelligence, and overall greatness away from the family," he takes a swig of beer, "it took two other kids to be ugly to make me so hot."

              "Sure Austin," Jessica laughs, "that must be it. That must be why he's so sweet, and you're..."

              "Awesome," Austin jokes, "the word you're looking for is awesome."

              "Anyway, I think I'm going to break up with Billy," Jessica says, "he flirts with girls all the time right in front of me. I mean, they treat him like a king when they come to get drugs. It's only a matter of time until he sleeps with one of them, and that's if he hasn't already. I wish Billy and I were still like you two."

              "What do you mean?" Krystal asks, perplexed.

              "Madly in love," Jessica smiles sweetly at the couple on the couch, "it must be nice to feel that way. The sex is better, the conversations matter, the world has this magical feeling of warmth."

              "Do people think that about us?"Austin asks.

              "Nobody acts that way because they're friends, or fuck-buddies," Jessica jumps up from the loveseat, "I almost forgot! Gimme one minute." She runs upstairs.

              Krystal stares deeply into Austin's baby blue eyes. They both smile a bit, and then lock lips before Jessica returns.

              "Billy was so trashed he dropped this bag, so I picked it up and put it in my pocket." Jessica throws a bag of ecstasy pills on the coffee table. "The green ones with the aliens pressed into them are double stack UFO's, and the pink ones with unicorns are triple stacks. I haven't tried any, but everyone sure as hell loves both kinds. Drinking sounds fun, but this'll probably be a lot better than tequila."

              "Fuck the tequila," Austin picks up the baggie.

              Krystal slaps his hand, "wait 'til your cousin gets here!"

              "Fine..."

* * * * *

              Zed's shoes tap the tile as he walks towards the punk rocker.

              An assortment of tubes and gauges keep Leroy Brown at optimal condition. His skin has a deep tan from the hickory smoke seeping through from the room next door. All of the pigs, cows, and deer, get the smoke treatment, as will Leroy Brown.

              "Mornin' Mr. Brown. How you feeling? I brought you a cupcake."

              Leroy grunts.

              "What's the occasion?" Zed raises the chocolate delicatessen with white frosting to Leroy's eye level. "Well, I reckon when you gotta birthday, they give you a treat. Something sweet to forget all the trouble you had for the year, to forget how old you are, or for the youngins, they give 'em sugar to shut 'em up for ten seconds before all the wrapping paper's ripped to shreds."

              Zed holds up the cupcake to Leroy's mouth. "Go on, take a bite."

              Leroy shakes his head back and forth.

              "Suit yourself." Zed chomps into the chocolate.

              Zed walks over to his cabinet of horrors and takes out a sharp hand-saw with two rows of teeth. He sits the cupcake down on a nearby table, and runs his fingers lightly against the saw.

              "This'll do," he grabs a three level step stool in his other hand.

              Leroy bucks back and forth, stretching the chain that attaches his legs to the ground, and his hands to the ceiling.

              "Any last words Leroy?" Zed puts the stool a foot away from his victim. "Maybe a prayer to God for what you did?"

              Leroy's body stiffens.

              "Yeah, I know Jaybird stopped ya," Zed says, "he called just minutes after he let you get away. Funny how a man that could knock the stuffing right outta ya just so happens to let you go, don't cha think? From what I hear Jay pulled his pistol ready to pop ya in broad daylight."