Kobe (20 page)

              "Man, shut the fuck up," Roc urges.

              "Best do what you're friend says," Bert puts down his gun, "then you best go home. There's a killer on the loose with razors for fingers."

              "I thought Freddy only came out in your nightmares, pussy," Billy jabs.

              "I'm serious! Scram before I call for backup."

              "Sure thing," Roc insists.

              Bert keeps his eyes on Billy as he walks down the trail to Shit Creek.

* * * * *

              Austin enters Curt's room, "hi, dad."

              Curt stares vacantly at Austin with cold blue eyes. The room is set up for two people, but under the circumstances, the psycho doesn't have a roommate.

              Austin's rage is crystal clear. He's not hiding resentment or hatred, but he is holding back the love he still feels for his distant father. "Why?" Austin asks.

              Curt looks away.

              "No answers?" Austin's teeth gnash together. "Look at me!" Austin rushes to the bed. "You can't tell your only son why you killed a beautiful girl that looked exactly like his mom, and then fucked her dead body?" Austin balls up his fists. He wants to choke him, punch him, kill him. But he can't.

              The cop outside the door patted him down and took his pocket knife. Not that he would've killed him anyway. In Kobe a boy with a pocketknife is as normal as a pen in an office. No harm no foul. However, the cop had a feeling.

              Austin could tell.

              Before he can think anymore about it, the door opens and a young Asian nurse enters.

              "Hey sweetie," the beauty in teal scrubs gently rubs Austin's shoulder, "he can't talk or write. He cut out his own tongue."

              "Sick fuck," Austin murmurs.

              "We have to treat them all," she sighs, "no matter how twisted they are, it's the Hippocratic Oath." The nurse quickly checks his vitals and leaves, closing the door on her way out. 

              "You can nod your head, right?" He gets real close to his father, a mere inches away from the killer's face.

              Curt looks at him with sorrowful, pitiful eyes, and moves his head up and down.

              "Did you kill my mother?" Austin squeezes the words through his gritting teeth.

              Curt looks away.

              "Answer me goddamnit!" Austin slams his hand on the metal bar.

              Tension builds as Austin waits impatiently. After what feels like years, Curt nods his head yes.

* * * * *

              Tears roll down Krystal's face as she reads through her timeline on Facebook.

              Katie may be in a better place, but that jerk-off deserves to be in hell. She wipes her tears and wonders how Austin is doing. He hasn't returned her calls or text messages.

              One of the wonderful things her parents blessed her with is the ability to see more than the average human being. Krystal has been biting boys since her first make-out party in seventh grade.

              That's why her mother, Tamara, named her Krystal. The world is automatically clearer when you can see through someone's eyes from tasting their blood.

              It's not as easy as you may think. She can't see the future, or sense every bad mood, but she can focus.

              The more blood, the stronger the bond. Her mom taught her that.

              Since she feeds on Austin frequently, sometimes as much as twice a day, she knows when he feels pain, if he's hungry, sleepy, or confused.  Most importantly she knows Austin loves her, which is very scary. Even for a girl that acts like the world is her playground.

              What if she has to tell him that she's different? That she's a monster? Krystal trusts Austin, more than anyone in the world, even her parents.

              And she knows he trusts her too.

              What she doesn't see is how this trauma will play out. How will Austin react to his father's crime?

              She picks up the phone and calls off work. Before she hangs up with Zed, she calls Austin off as well.

* * * * *

              Judd enters the Manor Carryout, "hey Akmed, how's it goin'?"

              "Very good, Mr. Judd, how are you?"

              "I think you heard all the gossip flies buzzing by now, so you got a good hunch all the bullshit I'm wading through."

              "Very true," Akmed laughs.

              "How boutcha ring me up for a bag of chaw and a pack of Krisp reds."

              "Yes sir," Akmed picks out Judd's favorite brand of chewing tobacco and rings it up, "twelve seventy-two."

              "I imagine you've already been hassled six ways from Sunday about this Skaggs fella," Judd hands him a twenty, "am I right?"

              "Yes sir that is correct, half of the town has asked me about the Junkie and his bath salts."

              Judd reaches in his shirt pocket and hands Akmed a business card.

              "Just give me a call if that sumbitch comes in," Judd pauses and stares at Akmed for a few seconds, "I need to know the second this asshole shows back up in the Bay."

              Judd leaves and Akmed puts the card in his front shirt pocket.

* * * * *

              Hunter opens the cave door and the light from a lamp brings the dark room to life.

              Skaggs covers his eyes.

              "Hey Skaggs, how's it going?"

              Hunter walks over to the bed and sits down, the large orange and black wolf spider crawls onto his lap.

              "I see you met my little lady here, her name's Charlotte," Hunter rests his hand on her abdomen, "before I release you back into the wild, I have some information that will be of some use to you.

              "The stuff I gave you yesterday is a small amount of my blood. I've been blessed with a condition that allows me to be stronger, smarter, and age better than most people. By giving you that blood you'll adopt some of my traits.

              "Moving forward, you will not be susceptible to most diseases including viral infections or cancer. Your wounds will heal almost instantaneously. Before you get too excited, you're not immortal, but it does take a shitload more to kill you.

              "The only way that you can die is by losing connection with your mind. If you get your head cut off, or a bullet bursts your brain into jelly.

              "I can't take all the credit, hell you only had a teency weency portion of my blood, just enough to save you from dying. Charlotte here deserves most of the thanks, along with her babies.

              "They've given you a world of tricks that most of our kind doesn't possess. Those little needles in your skin can attach to the walls and if need be are like mini shovels that can burrow into the ground.

              "The main trick is that instead of taking the full three days to develop, it took you twenty-four hours. Your senses of smell, taste, touch, sight, and hearing have been amplified tenfold. Instead of being separate like before, they all work as one now. You'll be able to see without eyes. You'll be able to hear with your ears. Really cool stuff.

              "Now for the downside of things, you must feed. Sure you can eat and drink like everyone else, but blood keeps you healthy and agile. It allows you to absorb the strength of your victims. Not a whole bunch mind you, but enough for you to be a proper hunter, a killer.

              "The spiders will guide you and protect you while you're in this cave. Once you step foot outside, though, you're on your own." Hunter pats his prodigy on the shoulder and exits the room leaving a burning oil lamp on a hook so that his creation can adjust his eyes to the light once again.

Chapter XXIV

Jackpot

            
 
Thank God Hunter's wife is a late riser, she's still sleeping when he creeps in. A long day of winning cards and building a monster has taken a toll on him.

              He crawls into bed with his best friend and lover, Tamara, the olive colored queen.

              The beautiful rockstar's round bottom sticks out from underneath the covers, but he has a little room to squeeze in without making too much commotion. He wraps himself in a blanket like a burrito and rolls to the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her.

              But he does.

              Tamara plays this little game of sleeping right in the middle of the bed for a reason. She rolls over and faces Hunter, dancing her fingers across his stomach until she finds his hand.

              Tamara interlocks his fingers in hers, "up all night playing poker?" His Italian wife asks.

              "Yeah, I won the Mayor's car," Hunter rolls onto his back.

              "That's awesome babe," she looks up and down Hunter's body, then stop at his eyes. "I'm so happy to have such a strong, smart man in my life," her fingernails casually glide over his chest, "a wonderful husband."

              Hunter pulls her into him and kisses the top of her head, "I love you," he says.

              "I love you too," she whispers in his ear, "I love your honesty. I love that you would never go behind your wife's back," her plush lips kiss the tip of Hunter's earlobe, "would you?"

              "Never," he says, "well, nothing too bad," he smiles.

              "Not even turning someone?" Tamara sucks on his ear for a moment, "like maybe a fucking psycho?" She sinks her teeth into his neck and bites off a chunk.

              "Ow Goddamnit!" Hunter screams.

              "You son of a bitch! How could you?" Tamara slaps him. "You think I wouldn't notice?" She screams.

              "Jesus Christ!" Hunter jumps out of bed.

              "You knew damn good and well what you were getting into," Tamara throws her covers off. "Remember Clint?" She asks. "He killed your best friend's dad for Christ sake! This Skaggs asshole is on a spree. I don't know for sure how many are dead, but I can feel him, faintly, not like you can, but I can feel him."

              Hunter paces back and forth, "It's not what you think," he watches his wife, her slender stomach accentuated by a black nightgown walk over to him, bouncing her beautiful body parts.

              "And the spiders?" she asks. "Why would you give our gift to a carnivorous species like that? You're just asking for trouble."

              "The spiders were under control," Hunter says, "and they'll be back under control as soon as this is over. I'll take care of it."

              "This is just another stupid way to get your name in the papers," Tamara flails her arms, "you've always been addicted to the fame. Even when we were playing music together, you always had to be center stage.

              "That junkie's going to take out everyone he can get his nasty fingers on. He killed his own mother,” Tamara says, “what do you think's gonna happen? He'll hunt rabbits? You have to stop him. He can't run around Kobe slaughtering innocent people."

              "I'll do it. I'll kill him," Hunter says.

              "You can't kill him! It'll link us to it. Everyone will see you for what you are, and not just you, but Krystal and me too. This isn't some vacation property we can walk away from, it's our home.

              "In the time we've been together we've learned how to manage our blessing. When you bleed into another human, it has to be done with love. Not just from you, but the other person has to love you as well, or at least have love in their heart.

              "Bad people, like this Skaggs, don't have any love in their heart. The same with Clint, he was full of hatred."

              "What am I supposed to do, Tamara?" Hunter doesn't look in her eyes, he looks at her lips. Her brown eyes are too hypnotizing.

              "Sleep," she relaxes, "you've been up all night," she wraps her arms around his neck, "he needs his rest anyway," she kisses him. "I know you don't mean to be malicious, but you have to stop trying to rule the world. Stay here, I'll take care of everything."

              "What're you gonna do, babe?"

              "Fix this," Tamara walks into the bathroom.

              Hunter weighs his options. If he lets it all play out, there will be a hell of a story to write, even if he doesn't intervene. If he does try to ignite more of a situation, his wife may leave him, as much as Tamara loves him, she can't stand when he does this, and she's left for less.

              He opts to sleep.

              The spiders are easier to concentrate on while he dreams anyway.

* * * * *

              Officer Washington keeps the peace in Bayside Commons.

              Every so often, a jerk-off steals a purse or a kid gets beat up for his lunch money, but Washington picks up enough scumbags to retain order. Through thick and thin, every late shift from 6pm until 6am, Washington is in the Bay.

            It felt like his head just hit the pillow when he got the call. Monday and Tuesday are usually his days off, so he was settling in with his wife and new baby boy.

              He didn't hesitate to go back to work, his wife was pissed but she understood. Murders just don't happen in Kobe, now there are two in twenty-four hours, and one of them in his very own stomping yard.

              Tina was a treasure to the community, always a sweetheart at the diner, she never hesitated to stop and chat when she saw him on the beat. She was an all around good lady.

              And Katie was so young. Washington didn't know too much about her, never crossed her path, he wasn't part of the crowd at the BBQ Pitt. Not to say it didn't have good food, Washington just didn't believe in a free ride, and no cop pays at the Pitt.

              He's worked on the police force long enough to know you don't stir the pot. If he pays it sets an example, like he's better than the rest of them.

              Washington sips his coffee in the precinct cafeteria. He got a few winks in after things settled down in the Bay, at least.

              Now he's back at it.

              He doesn't want to kill Skaggs, just beat his face in. Fuck the rules. A two-week suspension and some broken knuckles will be worth the satisfaction of punching this junkie's teeth down his throat.

* * * * *

              Marley and Daniels climb into a cave. It might be another dead end, but at least they can rest for a minute and enjoy a breakfast burrito. They shine their flashlights in the cavern crevices, searching for an indication they're on the right track.

              The two detectives inadvertently split up, each to his own side. They've been doing this for years, it's like second nature.

              "Jackpot!" Marley looks over at his partner with a grin from ear to ear.

              "Whatcha got?" Daniels walks over to join Marley.

              "Some nudie mags and a set of works," Marley crouches down, "this needle has some residue in it."

              Daniel's pulls out a napkin from his pocket and picks up the dope receptacle, "I can't tell if it's smack or what, but I bet it ain't Insulin."

              "Yeah, I don't see anyone runnin' out to the Kobe caves to shoot up diabetes medicine." Marley puts on a glove to handle the needle.

              Daniels squats next to his partner, "think it's Skaggs'? A lot of junkie's shoot up in the woods, it could be anyone's," Daniels squints at the needle, "the question is if it
is
a needle that Skaggs Mcdermott left here, where is he now?"

              "Give Judd a call," Marley says, "we'll need forensics down here to get a DNA sample, and a couple of dogs to sniff him out."

              Daniels spots a backpack, "looks like we got something over here," he hurries over to the backpack and picks it up. "Now
this
is a jackpot! We got guns, drugs, cash, it's the whole enchilada. I'm willing to bet along with that stickpin, this is a surefire lead to finding him. He's close, Marley, real close."

* * * * *

              A sea of paperwork floods Judd's desk. He flips through a folder of noir crime-scene photos detailing Tina McDermott's grizzly murder. His cell phone buzzes beside him.

              "Hello," Judd begins to clean the crap off his desk, "hot damn! Good work, boys!" Judd tells Detective Marley, "I should have a task force assembled in less than an hour, but forensics'll be there in fifteen minutes."

              The Mayor walks into Judd's office. "Mornin' Judd," he says.

              "Mornin' Mayor." Judd puts his cell phone in his pocket.

              "We got us a shit storm situation. How the fuck did you let this happen?" The Mayor's thick, bushy white hair is brushed forward and his face is flush. "I've been getting calls all morning about Katie O'Malley. They're demanding Curt Boesh's head on a platter. Every teenager in town's blasting about it on Twitter, Facebook, and whatever the hell Instagram is."

               "I know Mayor, it's a goddamn mess." Judd shakes his head. "Good news, though, we got a sure fire lead on the Tina McDermott case."

              "That's all well and good, but how 'bout we focus on one fuckin' murder at a time. I can't believe you let this shit slip through your fingers. Have you even talked to Katie's mother? Mrs. O'Malley?" His worn out wrinkles enhance the Mayor's sense of disappointment.

              "She just arrived in town." Judd tries his best to keep calm. The two men have had a rocky year and this isn't the best time to have a throw-down. "They're taking Katie's body back home to bury her. Mrs. O'Malley wants to stop and see me before she leaves."

              "Probably to tell you how much ya gummed up the works on this one, Judd."

              Judd pops up from his chair, "we looked damn near everywhere for that girl," he presses his palms on the desk. The anger seethes through his forearms into the wood grain.

              "Except your own brother's house!" The Mayor gets in Judd's face, "you're making us look ridiculous!"

              "If we spin it right," Judd takes it down a notch, avoiding the argument, "and put the emphasis on this Skaggs fella, we might be able to take some heat off of us."

              "
You
, Judd, take the heat off
you
."

* * * * *

              Krystal walks through a large yard full of fruit and oak trees. She bounces up a set of patio stairs and knocks on the front door, Austin's Aunt Karen answers wearing a cornflower blue apron with white polka dots.

              Karen has a few crow's feet around the eyes, but for the most part, she keeps control of her youth. 

              A lot of years have passed since she was that scared little girl with a dog head riding on her shoulders, but no one forgets. Even with the scar deleted by lasers.

            "Hi, Miss Boesh, is Austin home?" Krystal asks politely.

               "He went out back, dear," she wipes her hands on her apron.

               "Do you mind if I go find him?" Krystal asks.             

              "Go ahead. I think he wandered into the woods. I just got some cookies out of the oven, would you like a few?"

              "Of course!" Krystal's sweet demeanor shines through, despite her low serotonin levels from the ecstasy last night. "You know I'm a sucker for a good cookie," she says.

              "Come on in," Aunt Karen puts a nurturing shoulder around Krystal, "they're nice and hot. How's your Mom doing? Is she back in town?"

              "Yeah, she got in just a couple nights ago, "Krystal follows her hostess to the alluring scent of peanut butter and chocolate.

              "I don't know how she manages to look so young." Mrs. Boesh removes a cookie sheet from the oven, "I definitely admire her, not many women go back to following their dreams after raising children."