Kobe (15 page)

              Leroy looks to the floor.

              "Her momma called Judd and said whatcha did, or at least what ya tried to do," Zed takes off his glasses with his left hand and keeps the hand-saw secure in his right, "she was only twelve years old, Leroy." Zed places his glasses on a metal counter three feet away from the chained victim. "I'm gonna enjoy cuttin' your throat open."

              With one hand Zed steadies Leroy's head, and with the other he holds the saw up to his neck. The two rows of teeth clench on to Leroy's neck like a disciplined dog ready to chew.

              Zed pushes forward, slowly, letting each tooth attach firmly to flesh.

              The screams from the mohawked maniac sound like bubbly dry heaves.

              Every swipe destroys his trachea and vocal cords, until his head timbers over like a tree on to the clean tile floor.

              "Fuckin' pedophile."

  
 
Chapter XVIII

Broken Blocks

              Curt tastes the staples holding his tongue together. Hopefully they washed off the dirt, under the circumstances one can't be too sure. Another casualty of his lifelong war with his brothers.

              Judd and Zed never understood him. When Curt was a kid and couldn't play sports, they teased him about it. When he excelled in science and English, instead of congratulating him, they scoffed. Curt, the baby of the family, was consistently tossed aside.

              Now, Zed and Judd think Curt's a psycho because he wanted to hold a woman. Caress her flesh. It isn't his fault that the world is upside down. Different strokes for different folks, right?

              Curt did his best to keep Emmaline safe from harm, but the world infected her.

              That seventeen year old brat infected her.

              She was so sweet during Curt's freshman year at Ohio State. She made him cookies, helped him study, and never spoke to another boy. After they left college, Curt and Emmaline started a life together. They got married, and she got pregnant. Little Austin was born nine months later.

              Then Emmaline became a slutty cunt.

              They weren't necessarily hard up for cash, but six weeks after Austin was born, Emmaline said that she needed time away from the house. She got a job waitressing at the BBQ Pitt while Judd's wife, Karen watched Austin.

              Emmaline made good money from tips and liked the job a lot. As the months rolled on she spent less and less time with the newborn baby and more time at the Pitt.  Sometimes she would stay late, or go out with the staff on a Friday night, completely ignoring her responsibilities. Some nights she didn't come home at all.

              When Curt asked questions, Emmaline said that she got a little too drunk and didn't want to risk driving. She would mention that she stayed over at another waitresses' house, no big deal, right?

              It became a big deal when it started happening more and more. Curt wouldn't see her for entire weekends. Emmaline would go to work Friday afternoon and return Sunday night like nothing was wrong.

              Everyone in town knew, they'd talk and talk, but Curt wouldn't listen. He was working around the clock back then. People said that he didn't give her enough attention, and she was finding it somewhere else.

              Curt didn't believe them.

              Curt owned a few houses. A duplex they rented out, their three bedroom house where they lived, and the cabin.

              Curt came in for a beer after work to see his beloved wife one Friday night, but she wasn't there. Zed told him what was going on, in a roundabout way. Zed said that he could stay at the Pitt and he'd give him a ride home, talk a bit, but Curt ran to his car as quick as lightning.

              He couldn't stand the thought of Austin's mom being unfaithful. The woman that baked him pies during finals week.

              He didn't have plans to kill them, just to get stinking drunk and scare them if they crossed paths. As a matter of fact, he didn't even know that they would be at the cabin until he saw Emmaline's car parked around back.

              A revolver and a bottle of whiskey were the only things he had to put a fright in the couple. Curt walked through the front door sipping his pint. He checked the bedrooms first, nothing.

              And then he heard her screams.

              They were so loud they rattled his ear drums. She never screamed that way for him. Sure, she moaned when they made love, but that was all.

              Emmaline's passion never peaked.

              Curt built a guest room in the basement with a queen sized bed and two end tables, the perfect place for a romantic getaway or when guests came to stay.

              Even though the stairs creaked when Curt walked down them, Alverez didn't stop pounding his pelvis between her thighs.

              Where Curt's son slid out less than a year before.

              Emmaline's legs were so high in the air her tippy toes touched the ceiling. Her strawberry blonde hair was matted against the pillow with sweat.

              Curt stood there.

              Watching.

              Wishing it was him that brought her to climax. His tears blurred his vision but he still got the shot off.

              The first bullet went through Alverez's back. Emmaline didn't even notice the blood gushing on to her tits, still full of milk from breast feeding. She just kept coming. Twitching with pleasure.

              Curt yanked Alverez off of her and threw him on the cement floor, aimed, and shot Alverez five more times. He would've kept pouring lead into him, but the revolver just clicked after the sixth round was fired, and he was out of ammunition.

              Out of ammunition, but not ideas.

              Curt pulled Emmaline by her sweat soaked hair into the bathroom to wash the filth from her skin. He turned on the faucet and filled up the tub.

              Her hair was slick, but the sweat made it bunch up so Curt was able to get a good grip on her. With his other hand he grabbed her thigh and chucked her into the bathtub. The water splashed as she tried to escape.

              Curt pressed down on her shoulder blades, holding her underwater while she flailed in the tub. The stretch marks on her stomach slowly turned purple as her last breaths transformed into bubbles.

              Curt didn't mean to kill her, but he did.

              Judd pounded on the front door for God knows how long before he busted it in. Curt knew he was there but everything stopped, the screaming and yelling was muffled. The killer felt Judd kick him a few times, but not the pain just like a sensation, as if his mind and body were injected with Novocain.

              Curt collapsed by the bathtub and balled like a newborn baby while Judd picked up the pieces.

              The Sherriff kept it together. Judd got rid of the bodies and made arrangements so the cops couldn't track Curt's steps. The older brother told Curt right then and there he was going to raise Austin, no questions asked. He told his little brother that he would let him come round, and maybe Austin could stay the night every once in a while, but he wouldn't be able to raise him. Not after killing the boy's mother.

              Curt lost everything in a split second, with the exception of his freedom. What will he tell his son now?  Without an excuse or a tongue?  All he has are the broken blocks of a structure he built over twenty years ago.

* * * * *

              The bone saw chisels through Leroy's femur, the dust blows back onto Zed's welding mask. As many times as he's done this, the smell of burning bone still stinks something awful.

              He tosses half the femur in a white pickle bucket on the floor. It quickly makes friends with Leroy's hand and heart. Zed goes back to sawing.  Some organs and muscles are trashed, others are ground up to make cannibal-burger, but most of the meat is smoked and shredded to create the BBQ Pitt's signature dish, the Meat Grinder.

              The Meat Grinder was the first sandwich on the BBQ Pitt's lunch menu, it came after Emmaline and her young beefcake were disposed of. It took off like a rocket and became more popular than the brisket and ribs combined.

              Leroy's remains have the potential to feed the town through football season. It's the busiest time of year for the restaurant. Zed donated enough Grinders to the concession stand last season to build the school a new stadium, and every sandwich came with a ten percent coupon to ensure the townsfolk would eat at the BBQ Pitt.

              Funny how the blood of a scoundrel can make the belly of a honest citizen full and happy.

              The football stars also take part in a fundraiser where they sell gift cards. Yes sir, football season is the reason Zed has three cars and a half million dollar home. Zed finishes cutting Leroy's legs down to size and moves on to making his intestines into bratwurst.

* * * * *

              Roc and Billy have nearly ran out of places to look, the Watering Hole was damn near empty, and none of the local drunks had a clue where Skaggs was hiding. If anyone can be tipped off for a gram of coke, it's those bums.

              The sluts at Aces were only after a buck, sure Roc and Billy got a couple lap dances and blow jobs, but not answers. Any square in Kobe can get their dick sucked at Aces for the right amount of green, but the strippers were oblivious to the junkie on the run.

              The Manor is the last chance Roc and Billy have before calling it quits and waiting for him to show his face back in the Bay.

              Akmed stands behind the counter. His eyes show the strain of another fourteen hour shift at the convenience store. Billy and Roc wait for their turn to talk to the hard working African.

              "Hey Akmed," Billy says.

              "Hello Mr. Billy, Mr. Roc." His thick West African accent once so strange seems as familiar at the Manor as kids out front begging for an adult to buy them smokes.

              "You seen a two bit Junkie runnin' round?" Billy asks.

              "This is Bayside. Of course I see junkies. That's all I see. Lazy junkies all day."

              Billy and Roc both laugh.

              "Give me a pack of Krisp Menthols," Roc says.

              "Make it two," Billy chimes in.

              "Yes sir." Akmed pulls two packs of ciggarettes from a rack behind him. "That will be thirteen thirty nine."

              Roc reaches into his pocket.

              "I got it," Billy takes out his wallet and hands Akmed a fifty, "keep it."

              "Very generous Mister Billy." Akmed places the currency lovingly into his cash register.

              "This Junkie in particular might've bought some bath salts," Billy tells him, "real ugly, big ears, pimply as that day old pizza you got in the warmer, and he smells something awful."

              "I think he came in this morning," Akmed says, "really early, too early to be as high as he was. He came in and asked me all sorts of questions about the bath salts. I told him I would never take drugs, he made the purchase and left. A couple police gentleman asked me about him as well."

              "Yeah, he killed his own mom after he took 'em," Billy says.

              "Terrible." Akmed shakes his head.

              "You're still going to sell 'em though ain't ya, Akmed," Roc smirks.

              "Don't hate a player, hate game."

              "
The
game, Akmed, don't hate
the
game," Billy laughs, "thanks Akmed, you take care of yourself. Get some sleep for Christ sake."

              "Thank you, come again."

              "Where to?" Roc holds the door open for Billy and walks outside.

              The pink hue of dusk sweeps the day away, preparing the town for nightfall.

              "Last place I can think of, the woods. We'll start at Devil's Rock and then go through the tunnel. Check out the area around Dog Head Lake."

              "In the morning?" Roc suggests.

              "Too scared to go out at night? You just a big ol' teddy bear," Billy pushes Roc playfully, "soft as a grape."

              "Fuck you nigga, I just think we ain't gonna see nuttin', might as well crash at the crib and hit it tomorrow."

              "I guess you're right. I could use some drinks and a couple lines."

              The gangsters get in Roc's car and head back to the Bay, tired and empty handed.