The Dead Parade (21 page)

As Elmer stood up, Helga saw Franco lying on the ground. His eyes were open and blank. Blood was smeared across his face.

Eyes locked in place, she gasped, “What have yu-you d-d-done?”

Helga couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She never heard the struggle between the two men, and the last thing she expected was this. Moments ago she was making tea; she wondered if Franco had wanted a cup and stepped outside on a whim. Truth was, when she offered him coffee or tea he always said yes. Asking was just a formality. It was part of the routine.

“
Franco’s dead,” Elmer said.

Helga looked away from her dead husband, into the eyes of the maniac. “But why? Wha-why would you d-do this? He did nothing to you!”

Elmer stepped over the corpse and into the moonlight. The clouds in the sky changed position and the light between them all but vanished. The wind blew a forceful gust and Helga stepped back. A fly landed on her face and she swatted it away.

“
What are you doing?” she asked. “Get out of here. Leave us au-alone!”

She saw Elmer’s mouth. Blood was dripping from his chin; he looked like a vampire. She considered running but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that an elderly lady running away from a psychopath in the dark was a pointless endeavor. He was too young and she was too old. He’d catch her quickly and kill her soon after.

But what other options did she have?

She could fight, but she’d lose. She could scream, and hope to be saved. Or she could talk to the man. She could try to reason with a psychotic killer. Her choices were terrible.

“
Listen,” Helga said nervously, backing away as she spoke.

“
No. You listen.” Elmer said, keeping pace with her footsteps. “I’m going to kill you and I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to snap your neck with my hands.”

“
You don’t hu-have to do that.”

“
I know.”

“
Then why do it? For the the-the-thrill?”

“
I can’t let you go, lady. Not now. You’ve seen my face. You’ve seen my work.”

“
I can’t see anything. I’m old… and it’s dark out here. I don’t nu-know who you are or what you’ve d-done. I don’t know au-anything.”

“
That’s too bad, ‘cause it doesn’t matter.”

“
Sure it does!”

“
Not to me.”

“
You can turn au-away right now. You can leave me au-alone. The Lord will pa-punish you if you don’t follow in his fa-fa-footsteps.”

Elmer giggled; the woman was hilarious. Sometimes her cheeks puffed out and sometimes her eyes bulged and sometimes her lips looked like they were pinned together with a clothespin. Call NBC; this old broad needed her own sitcom.

“
The Lord’s not here, lady,” Elmer said. “He stays away from me most of the time. In fact, he’s never around when I need him and I don’t think he’ll be around when you need him. Honestly now, do you?”

“
Oh yes… he is h-here! The Lord is here. And he’s wa-watching you. He’s watching us! The Lord is everywhere. He’s here right now and he pa-pap-punishes the wicked!” Helga couldn’t help it; she spit in the air trying to say the word ‘punishes.’

Elmer smirked. “I’m afraid not.”

“
His word is not to b-b-be questioned!”

“
You’re trying to talk me down, scare me a little… is that it?”

“
I’m trying to reason with you. For Gu-Gu-God’s sake, think about your soul! You’re better ta-than this. Don’t think for a minute that you can do au-as you please, killing and terrorizing and d-doing all the terrible things that you’ve been du-doing, and then what? Will you sit among the faithful at the end of your d-du-days? It doesn’t wa-work that way, although so many think that it does. You can’t say, Lord I’m sa-sar-sorry… sorry, on your deathbed and expect all to be forgotten. You can’t. You just can’t. Repent now and be saved now, for the Lord disciplines the wicked. He saves the m-merciful. Beg his forgiveness right here, right n-n-now, for it is not too late to follow in the footsteps of the Lord. Once the bell tolls there’ll be no more fu-fu-footsteps to fa-follow, can’t you see that? You can’t follow his word when the sermon is over. Follow his w-word now, and he will la-la-lead you to the Promised Land!”

“
Fuck that. You’re trying to escape. But you’re too old to run, and too smart not to know it. Frankly, I’m impressed. But I’m smart too, and I’m not falling for it.”

Still backing away, Helga said, “But the Lord––”

“
It’s not going to work, lady. You need a new angle.”

“
I don’t want to die,” she blurted out, more afraid now than before. She didn’t realize it, but she had stopped thinking about her husband. The shock of his death had come and gone very quickly. And religion, she discovered, wasn’t the solution she was looking for. It was a tool that wasn’t working, the wrong approach. He was right; she needed a new angle. “I don’t want to die. Not here, not b-by your hand.”

“
I don’t know if you realize this or not, you stupid stuttering whore… but I don’t care. This isn’t about what you want. This is about what I want.”

“
Please, b-be reasonable.”

“
But it’s your time to die. And I am being reasonable. Let me enlighten you on a thing or two. First of all, there is no God.”

“
O-oh yes t-there is.”

“
No. There isn’t. Think about it. This planet has been here for billions of years. People have been evolving for millions of years, long before organized religion. You say that ‘two-thousand years ago Jesus came!’ But two-thousand years ain’t squat when you’re talking about the big picture. What happened to all the people born before Jesus, huh? No heaven for them, I guess. What a rip-off.”

“
You d-don’t under… s-s-s-stand! It was Jesus ta-that––”

“
No! You don’t understand. I’m going to kill you, and when I die there won’t be a bearded man wearing a toga standing at the golden gates wondering why I would do such a thing. End of story.”

Helga kept walking. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say. This guy wasn’t kidding around. He was planning on killing her, and he was going to enjoy it. Oh God, how do you reason with that?

“
Where do you think you’re going,” Elmer said with a sneer. “You’re going to do a little backwards fancy-step all the way to New Jersey? Is that it?”

“
Maybe. I don’t want to da-da-die today.”

“
But you’re going to. That’s the bitch of it.”

“
What cu-cu-can I do to change your m-mind? Tell me, and I’ll do it! You can ha-have anything that you want. You can hu-have everything.”

“
You can stop moving away from me. How about that?”

“
No. I can’t do that ta-that.”

“
Why not?”

“
You’ll grab me, and with the Lord as m-my witness, I believe you’ll kill m-me.”

“
That’s inevitable, I’m afraid.”

“
It doesn’t have to be.”

“
But it is.” Elmer wrinkled his nose and slowed his pace. “Can I ask you something, lady?”

“
Yes.”

“
Okay, then. Be straight with me. This is your house, right? This isn’t some summer home… you’re here all year around, aren’t you?”

Helga swallowed back her lies, then nodded. “Yes.”

“
Do you have any guns inside? I need a gun.” As Helga’s expression changed, Elmer knew the answer. A poker player she was not. “You do, don’t you? You’ve got one.”

“
No.”

“
Yes.”

“
No.”

“
You’re lying.”

“
Stay out of ma-ma-my house.”

“
Where is it?”

“
I’ll nu-nu-never tell you anything. I’ll never tell you w-where they are.”

Elmer giggled. “They? How many do you have, lady? A whole trunk full, apparently.”

Helga took one step too many and her balance shifted. She fell off a three-foot ridge, landed hard against the beach and expelled a grunt. Elmer, who laughed as she fell, stood at the edge of the drop off looking down at her, wind at his side. As his laughter tapered, he watched Helga in admiration, feeling his excitement building inside; he loved anticipation. It was the best.

“
You’re a smart woman,” he said, nodding his head and licking his lips. “Very smart, and very well spoken for a stuttering whore. A bit too church-lady for me, but over all, I’m impressed. Congrats.”

Helga was moaning now. The unexpected fall injured her back.

“
Any last words?”

Helga felt a tear roll down her cheek. She thought about her situation. She thought about her life. She thought about her husband lying dead in a pile with his face ripped apart and she pushed that thought away. If she was about to have a conversation with Saint Peter she wanted to make sure the last thing she said here on earth would earn his blessing. She inhaled a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. With her chin out and her hands balled into fists, she said, “The Lord is my Shepard. There is n-n-nothing I shall want.”

Then she screamed.

79

Debra drove another eight seconds before she finally stopped the car. With her arm resting behind the seat, she backed up. She had just driven past a woman on the road, and the woman needed help. But the road was dark and she couldn’t see much. And Debra’s wasn’t a great driver, at least not when driving in reverse, without her glasses––at night.

She expected to see the girl right away but never did. Finally she stopped the car, opened the door and stepped outside. The wind was blowing, causing her hair to fall in front of her eyes.

She held her hair back with her hand, and said, “Hello! Is anybody out there?” No response. “Hello!”

Debra eyed the side of the road, the trees and the dark, haunting branches they were swaying in the not-so-gentle breeze, thinking, what did I see? Maybe it was an animal, or maybe…

She jumped back into the driver’s seat and turned the car around. Tires crunched the gravel. She drove along the darkening highway slowly, watching the side of road the best she could. The glow of the headlights brightened the road and the grass and all that was around it. Then, when she was beginning to think that she had imagined the girl, she saw something. It looked like a ghost. She held her breath and focused on the image. No… it wasn’t a ghost. It was the girl; she was sitting at the edge of the road holding her knees against her chest.

Debra parked the car. As she stepped outside Jennifer looked up. Her body was shaking and her cheeks were swollen. Her nose was broken and her face was bruised.

“
Save me,” she sobbed. “Please… save me.”

“
Oh my,” Debra whispered, putting her fingers to her mouth. The girl looked liked she had been attacked by a pack of wolves. “Can you stand?”

“
I don’t know.”

“
Want me to help?”

“
Yes, please. But be gentle.”

Debra got behind Jennifer, put her hands beneath the girl’s arms and lifted.

Jennifer stood with a squeal and a grunt. Her legs were shaking and her breasts were exposed. Fresh tears formed in her puffy, red eyes. She reached out, grabbing at nothing. Her balance shifted and for a moment both woman thought she would fumble and stumble and fall onto the road. She didn’t, mostly because Debra was there to catch her.

Once Jennifer stabilized, Debra said, “I’ll get you something to cover up with as soon as you’re in the car. Okay, Hun? You’re coming with me. I’m going to find you some help.”

“
Thank you.”

“
Don’t mention it. What’s your name, girl?”

“
Jennifer.”

“
Hi Jennifer. My name is Debra and I’ll do what I can. Are you able to walk?”

“
I think so.”

“
Okay then. I’ll help. Just lean on me if you need to.”

Debra helped Jennifer across the road and into the car. She opened the trunk and looked inside, finding an old sweater that was big and dirty but better than nothing. As Jennifer struggled to pull it over her head, she couldn’t help but cry.

80

James shouted. That’s how he woke up from the nightmare: he shouted. His skin was drenched in sweat, his clammy hands clutched the center of his chest, and his hair was matted and tangled. He had lines across his skin from the ribbed nap of the corduroy couch and there was a thick aluminum taste that had made camp inside the back end of his mouth. For some reason the taste reminded him of napalm.

James sat up, rubbed a numb hand across his face, and coughed. Soot from the fire sprayed into his hand. Then he became worried. Not because of the soot, which was definitely troublesome in its own way, but because of the dream.

The dream wasn’t fading, as dreams usually do. Instead, it was becoming clear. Very clear. He remembered everything about it, every last detail––Johnny’s hand, the bodies coming to life, the way they walked the lonely road: slumping, bleeding, headless, and mangled. The nightmare felt less like a dream and more like a premonition, a forewarning. Something was coming––twenty-plus dead bodies, dragging their broken remains along the dark and desolate highways. They were coming to get him. Coming to kill him.