Crucifax (42 page)

Mr. Brubaker stepped forward and barked, "Hey! You the guy who called me today?"

"Yes, I called because—"

"Look, who the hell do you think you are, scarin' people like this, makin' 'em think their kids are in trouble when they're just hangin' out at a goddamned nightclub, for Christ's sake? C'mon, Barb, let's get outta here."

J.R.'s jaws burned as he angrily ground his teeth together. Brubaker was probably the type who loudly sucked his teeth after meals, belched his beer, and spent weekends shouting orders from his easy chair in front of the television. He didn't know the man but suddenly hated him as if they'd been enemies for a lifetime.

"Listen, mister!" J.R. shouted. "A girl just
killed
herself in there, and the man who walked off with those kids is responsible. Maybe for a lot of other suicides, too. And I can promise you, he's not taking those kids to see a movie! I've got a pretty good idea that a lot more are gonna die tonight." He took a few steps toward Brubaker as he went on. "Now, if I'm wrong, and I hope to God I am, then I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. But if I'm right, and you go back home, you might be getting a call later tonight from someone who wants you to come down to the morgue and identify your son's corpse. And if that happens, Mr. Brubaker"—he was inches from the man now and poked his chest with a stiff index finger—"if that happens, I'm gonna look you up, get in your face, and say I fuckin' told you so!"

Brubaker slapped J.R.'s hand away, growled an obscenity, took his wife's arm, and turned toward the car again.

Mrs. Brubaker pulled away and snapped, "
No!
If you want to go home, you can, but I'm not going until our son is with me!"

Brubaker was clearly shocked at his wife's tone of voice and stared at her openmouthed.

The others in the parking lot slowly gathered closer, looking on like an attentive theater audience.

With quiet threat, Brubaker said, "You're gonna get in that car and—"

"No. No, I am not! I don't think you've noticed in the last sixteen years, but we have a son! And if there's a chance something might happen to him tonight, I'm going to find him, and if you want to go home, then go. Just get in the truck and go. I don't care. I'll find a—"

Mr. Brubaker rushed toward her as if he was going to hit her, instead, he hunched forward and said, "Okay, all
right,
goddammit, we'll—" His voice dropped to a confidential hiss that was drowned by the wind.

J.R. turned to the others and said, "I think he's taken them to the abandoned health club on the corner of Ventura and Whitley. There are a few things you should know…." He wasn't sure how to go on without sounding like a nut; he needed to warn them about Mace's animals, but he didn't want to destroy any credibility he might have with them. When he turned uncertainly to the reverend, Bainbridge stepped forward.

"This fellow Mace," he said, "he has… animals. Small, vicious animals. Maybe you saw some of them here tonight. They're well trained."

"So we're going to have to protect ourselves," J.R. said. "If anyone has any weapons…"

There was no response at first. They stood in the dark parking lot, soaked and shivering, looking confused and scared. A Hispanic man spoke up.

"Why don't we just call the police?"

"It looks like Mace has some friends in the police department," J.R. replied. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Who is this man?" asked the woman in the nurse's uniform. "What does he want with our children?"

"We aren't sure who he is, but whatever he wants, it's not good. Now. Weapons?"

No reply for a moment, then Brubaker nodded and said hesitantly, "Yeah, I've… I've, um, got some guns at home."

Relieved, J.R. said, "Okay. We'd better get moving. We may not have much time…."

Part V

Crucifax Exodus

Twenty-Eight

Kevin had not followed Mace and the others out of the club; he'd gone out the stage door, furiously slamming it behind him, and down the manhole in the alley. He had no light but felt his way along the walls and flicked his butane lighter as he hurried through the black, cobwebbed passages where he could hear the raspy breathing of bums curled in the corners.

Kevin was angry and hurt; he felt betrayed by Mace. The band had performed only two songs, and neither had been songs Kevin had written. Once the crowd in Fantazm began to get out of hand, it didn't take Kevin long to realize that he and his band were being used. He wasn't sure exactly how or why, but it was obvious that Mace's intentions went beyond merely giving a performance. Kevin had heard of working a crowd, but Mace had done much more than that; the moment he'd stepped onto the stage, he'd
owned
that crowd. Kevin realized that a lot of the kids in the audience already knew Mace, but even those who didn't acted as if they'd been waiting for him, needed him. It was a little scary. Kevin was already kicking himself for putting his trust in Mace, but after the concert at Fantazm, it seemed more than just a betrayal; he felt he'd been deceived on a deeper level, in a way that he was just now beginning to see and might never truly understand.

He'd taken no drugs since returning from the center. Perhaps, he'd considered, his gullibility had been due to his perpetually altered state of consciousness; maybe he was seeing his mistakes now because his head was finally clear. Mace
had
been very persistent in his offer of drugs during their first meeting….

As if it weren't enough that the band's first performance had been a huge disappointment, Mallory had left shortly after they'd begun playing the first song.

Like she all of a sudden didn 't give a damn,
he thought as he ducked through the hole and into the sub-basement of the health club. Mallory had been so supportive, so excited about the concert, that Kevin had nearly stopped playing when he saw her rushing out of the nightclub followed by her brother.

But the worst thing of all was the girl who had dragged the edge of her Crucifax across her throat and collapsed in a convulsing, bleeding heap onto the floor. The blackout had helped to cover it. In fact, it made him wonder if that was really what he'd seen or if, in all the noise and smoke, he'd been mistaken. But the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he had not imagined the girl's suicide. And with her Crucifax…

Kevin felt his own Crucifax shifting beneath his shirt and thought of the sharp edges, the first time he'd touched one and cut his finger….

This will be your escape from all that you hate, from all the people who don't
understand you….

Mace had also said something about the Crucifax being a key. A key to what?

A place where no one will ever lei you down again…

The girl in Fantazm had not hesitated for an instant when she lifted the Crucifax to her throat….

…
a place where everyone is equal and there are no lies.

… as if she was not only willing to cut her throat open, but eager.

Mace had been talking about going to someplace better, someplace perfect, ever since they'd met—

…
a place where everyone is equal and there are no lies.

—but that place no longer sounded so perfect after all.

Lantern light glowed from the deep end of the pool, and Kevin went to the edge. Mallory was sitting naked against the side of the pool, a blanket gathered around her. There was a lantern at her side, the cover off, the reflected light of the flame glimmering in a spoon that rested on a fold of the blanket. Jeff lay across Mallory's lap, his body limp, eyes only half open, naked but for the blanket that covered his legs. A belt was wrapped tightly around his upper arm. Mallory was lovingly stroking his hair.

Kevin took a breath to call her name, to ask her what she was doing, but stopped when he saw the syringe in her right hand.

"Mallory!"

She looked up slowly, her eyes heavy, and stared at him as if he were a stranger.

"Mallory, what the hell…"

Recognition dawned in her dulled eyes, and her mouth worked silently, then smiled.

"Hi," she said.

"What… what're you… Jesus, Mallory, he's your
brother.
"

She giggled, then looked down at Jeff again, lowering the needle to his arm.

"No!" Kevin shouted, running along the edge of the pool to the stepladder. He stumbled into the pool and dodged the stirring figures on the floor as he hurried to Mallory. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed hard. "Drop it."

"Nooo," she whined, trying to pull away, but he held on, using his other hand to pry her fingers off the syringe.

When he had it away from her, she turned from him, pouting, stroking her brother's hair again. Kevin hunkered down and lifted Jeff's arms, looking carefully at the elbows for needle marks. None.

"Mallory." He lifted her face. "What's he on?"

"Just some of Mace's grass."

"How much of this shit have you had?"

"Just… a little. I told you I don't like it much."

"Then why
the fuck—
"

"Hey, what's the problem?" a groggy male voice asked from another corner of the pool.

"Get up," Kevin said, ignoring the voice.

"No. And gimme that."

Mallory reached for the syringe, but Kevin dropped it to the floor and crunched it beneath his foot. "Get up and put your clothes on."

"You don't own me, Kevin!"

Jeff opened his eyes and wearily lifted his head, confused.

"Mace is gonna be here any minute," Kevin said.

"So?"

"We've made a mistake, Mallory. Getting involved with him was a mistake. He's lied to us, he used the band. And there was a girl in the club tonight—she slashed her throat with her Crucifax. She
killed
herself, Mallory, and I think that's what Mace wanted. I think… I think maybe that's what he wants all of us to do."

"I don't want to go. You leave if you want."

A month ago, Kevin would not have hesitated to leave without her. But seeing her there with Jeff, hearing the chill in her voice as she so casually dismissed him, made Kevin's chest feel hollow, empty, as if it had been scraped clean.

"Mallory, I thought… I thought you cared about me."

"I thought you cared about me. If you did, you wouldn't want me to leave here, go home to my mother"—she spat the word with disgust—"instead of staying here where I'm happy."

"You're not happy, you're stoned."

She turned away from him again, as if he weren't there. Frustrated, Kevin gripped Jeff's arm and pulled him into a sitting position.

"Leave him alone!" Mallory cried, trying to push Kevin away.

Kevin roughly pulled the belt off Jeff's arm, tossed it aside, then shook him by the shoulders, trying to rouse him.

Jeff blinked, looked around, and muttered, "What? What's-matter?"

"We've gotta go, Jeff," Kevin said. "C'mon, get dressed, we've gotta get outta here."

"Stop it!
"Mallory hissed, standing. "Leave him alone! He wants to stay with me!" She slapped at Kevin's hands until he let go of Jeff, who modestly pulled the blanket around himself and stood, bracing himself against the wall.

There was a loud clamor from upstairs; voices echoed down the spiral staircase—laughter and rowdy catcalls and howls—and footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Kevin said, "C'mon, hurry, get dressed!"

"Why?" Jeff asked as Mallory pressed close to him, slipping an arm beneath the blanket and around his waist. "What's wrong?"

Kevin looked at Mallory and was shocked at the look of defiance in her eyes, as if she knew Jeff would never go against her wishes. She was not the Mallory he'd known a week ago.

"Mace is coming!" he whispered.

"Well… Mallory says she wants to stay, so…" Jeff shrugged a shoulder.

"So you come. Jesus, if you can't save her, at least save your—"

"Hello, Kevin."

Kevin turned and looked up. Mace stood between two of the creatures; they each stared at Kevin, neither moving so much as a whisker. Kevin looked up, followed Mace's body from his black boots at the edge of the pool to his head, which seemed to be a hundred feet above him. His arms were folded over his chest, and the lantern in the pool cast deep shadows over his face.

Kevin's mouth became dry, and he could feel his heart beating in his throat.

"Something wrong, Kevin?"

"N-no, I was—I was just—"

"Kevin!" Trevor came to Mace's side and grinned down at Kevin. "Was that rad or what? Did you see that crowd? They went crazy! Jesus, they loved us—loved us!"

Mark was standing behind Trevor; both of them were nearly dancing with excitement.

The room was suddenly booming with movement and voices, webbed with slinking shadows.

"I thought it went pretty well, didn't you, Kevin?" Mace asked. Even through the shadows that crept over his face, Mace's sparkling golden eyes remained clearly visible, daring Kevin to disagree.

Kevin said nothing but tried to stare Mace down, tried to keep his eyes locked with Mace's, unblinking and un— averted, hoping to show him that he was no longer willing to bend to Mace's every wish.

He couldn't do it; his eyes closed for a moment, and he turned away.

Someone called Mace, and he moved away from the pool, out of sight.

"Get out of here, Jeff," Kevin whispered harshly, "before he notices you. Take Mallory with you! I'm not fuckin'
kiddin'
you, man, this is trouble. Now get your clothes on and go!" He turned to get out of the pool; the two creatures at the pool's edge had not moved. They stared at him with narrowed eyes, and one of them flicked its tongue over its black lips.

Kevin tried to act as if he hadn't noticed them and climbed up the stepladder at the other end.

It was standing room only in the pool room. Kevin had to push people out of the way to get through, and he was suddenly overcome with a panicky, trapped feeling.

Mace's head stood above the others; his back was to Kevin.

The spiral staircase was blocked by teenagers going up and down the steps, sitting, standing against the rail. If he was going to get out, Kevin would have to go down to the sub-basement and through the sewer.