Skulls (6 page)

His stomach churned as he read through the archived news articles.

Only sixteen, Katie had hitchhiked on a dare. Yearning to prove to her classmates she could be adventurous and fit in, she went along without a fight.

That dare had cost her life.

On June 16, 1987, Katie James left her house without her parent’s knowledge. She was driven out of town and left on the side of the road. Her only instructions were to find a ride home. On that same night, a massive thunderstorm rolled through the area. It shut down a number of the local roads that fed into the highway Katie was stranded on.

Images of her long, lonely walk flashed through Jacob’s mind. He saw the miserable cold rain as it pounded down on top of her.

Though no one could prove it—Katie’s classmates vehemently denying it—it was presumed they’d known a storm was coming and had left her anyway. None had yet to change their story.

Intentional or not, it was the last time Katie was seen alive.

When her parents checked on her the next morning, assuming she had just overslept, they found her bed empty. They immediately knew something was wrong and called the police. She’d never so much as gone into the backyard without checking in.

Search parties were formed. They scoured the mountains and tacked up flyers everywhere. Katie’s face was splashed across the evening news. The story grew more hopeless as the days dragged by.

A few weeks later, her bloated and rotting body was found floating in the canal. Her head had been cut off.

The coroner had confirmed the murder weapon had been an axe; just like the one Jacob had seen cleaving into her chest and piercing her heart.

A tsunami of images roared inside Jacob’s mind as he read the words. Once more he saw the axe plunge and heard Katie’s shrieking horror as it was buried in her. The masked face loomed in his mind. The killer’s dark eyes showed no hint of emotion as he brought the axe to bear.

His face flush, Jacob stumbled out of the chair, nearly knocking it over. His heart raced out of control.

“What’s wrong?” Cass asked from the doorway. Her voice quavered.

Jacob whipped around wide-eyed and saw Cass standing at the doorway. He hadn’t heard her come in. He waved her question off, then pulled his hand down when he realized it was shaking.

“Nothing,” he lied. His mind struggled to find a better answer. “This is just some gruesome shit.” He motioned toward the monitor.

Cass stared at him a moment. She set the tray she carried aside and walked over to the computer. She glanced at the screen and shook her head. Jacob sensed she knew he was lying. He’d never been the squeamish type and Cass knew that better than most.

“The movie we watched the other night was worse than this.” She looked at him, her eyes narrowing when she saw him sweating.

“It’s just that it’s real, you know? That it happened right here in town.” He stammered as he tried to get the words out. “I can’t believe someone like Jenks can just wander around free after doing something so horrible like that.” He pointed at a picture of the axe wound, the image grainy in black and white.

Cass looked to Jacob and then to the computer. She reached over and turned the monitor off. “Yeah, it’s bad, but why are you getting so worked up over it?”

“I—” He started to lie again but found it hard to speak. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “It’s just sad, I guess. It could happen to anyone, you know?”

Cass pushed him over onto the couch. She went and grabbed him a soda, popping the top and handing it to him.

He took it, his hand still trembling. He swallowed half of it in big gulps. He was breathing heavy when he finally pulled the can away from his lips.

“Seriously, are you all right?” Cass sat beside him, her eyes moist. “You’re acting real weird.”

He met her gaze for a moment. Yeah,” he answered as his breath slowed. “I think maybe I’m just stressed out, all the shit with my dad and all.”

“Is that all it is?”

The question hung in the air.

Jacob looked back at her. “Yeah, Cass, I’m sure that’s it.” He reached out and took her hand, turning his so hers was on top. He gave it a squeeze. “This has nothing to do with you, okay? I probably just need more sleep—and a dad who isn’t homicidal.” He laughed hollow and tugged on Cass’s hand to get her to smile. “We’re good.”

She eased a tiny grin onto her lips. “You know you can always crash here, if you want.”

“You’re already feeding the stray. You don’t want to give it a place to sleep too.” He winked at her. “I’d never leave.”

She feigned disgust. “I’d probably just have to put you down anyway. You’d be scratching up the furniture, marking your territory, spraying all over.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t—”

Cass pulled him into a hug with a laugh. “I know you wouldn’t do that, Jake, because I’d have you neutered first.”

He pulled away, his face pained. “You’re mean.”

She just laughed harder, then stuck her tongue out. “So I hear.”

Jacob shook his head as Cass got up and grabbed some snacks from the tray. She tossed the packages at him. They landed in his lap. “I know you’re getting ready to bail, so take them with you. You need to eat something.”

He looked down at the packages and sighed. His gaze drifted up to hers. “Thanks.” He collected the snacks and went to give her a hug. “See you at the party tonight?”

“As long as you don’t get into trouble.”

“I don’t plan on it,” he answered, mocking her tone.

“You never do.” She grabbed his arm and playfully dragged him down the stairs.

In the foyer, Cass pulled him close before he could walk out the door. “I really want to hang out tonight.”

Jacob lifted her chin and kissed her quick. He resisted the urge to linger, her parents gone for the day. “I’ll be there. I promise.” He smiled and held the snacks up. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Before Cass could reply, Jacob waved and walked off. He made it two houses down before he turned back to look. Cass was already inside.

He tore open one of the packages and started on the snack. Though it tasted okay, it settled in his stomach like a brick. He looked at the others and heard his stomach rumble. He dropped them in a trash can.

His mind circled back to what he’d learned. The images fluttered through his head. Before he knew it, he had cut across the cultivated yards on Country Club and was headed for the bunker.

He went the long way around to avoid where his friends hung out. It made the trip a little longer, but he didn’t want to explain where he was going. At the barbed wire fence, he hopped over and entered Jenks’s property.

His pulse raced when he spied the towering tree and cluster of shrubs that hid the bunker. He took a deep breath and looked to be sure no one was watching. He then slipped through the shrubs and pulled the hatch open. The musky scent of moist earth wafted up to greet him.

His hands trembled. Memories of Katie sprung to mind. He shook his head, trying to clear the images. He felt strange. The visions of the murder terrified him, yet he felt something else. Was it excitement?

He dismissed the thought and worked his way down the ladder. With a deep breath at the bottom—this one sticking to his lungs—he turned to face the wall of skulls.

He saw Katie’s skull where he’d dropped it. A pang of guilt hit him for his callousness. He picked it up without looking into its eyes and returned the skull to its perch.

Katie settled, he looked the remaining assembly over. He didn’t let his gaze linger on any of their empty sockets. Though he was sure he imagined it, it was as if they were calling to him. He heard a plaintive hum inside his head. His breath seemed to echo off the walls.

Jacob reached out and grabbed one of the skulls at random. Each was as good as the next, he figured. Its cold bone fit comfortable in his hands. Tingles of excitement shot up his arms. He stared down at its white dome and felt the urge to turn it toward him. He needed to look into its eyes.

It had a story to tell.

Jacob felt compelled to listen.

He twisted the skull and stared into the blackness of its eyes. A cold chill settled in the air around him. Like the nighttime sky, stars exploded to life in the darkness. There was a gleam, and Jacob felt the desperate pull of memories.

He gave in without a fight.

Chapter Nine

Terrance Cole waited. His breath was cold in his lungs. He stared through the late night gloom, his eyes locked on the nestled trinity of trash cans. The bushes he peered through twitched against his sweaty face as the cool breeze made them sway.

His moment come at last. The center can exploded with a loud roar. It thundered through the darkness, the lid blown ten feet straight into the air. A volcano of trash followed it up, flickering with fire lights. The sides of the can split and reddish-orange flares rushed from the cracks. They scorched the surrounding cans and sent them tumbling.

Dogs howled in the background. The nearest house lights flipped on to chase the shadows from the night. Terrance ducked low and ran for the tree line. A smile on his face even the darkness couldn’t conceal, he laughed as he ran.

In the trees, he slowed and veered off to keep his triumph in sight. Tiny flickers of flame still burned at the cans. Shadows in the light raced to put the fires out. He laughed louder as sirens began to wail in the distance. Firemen were roused from their beds at his fiery summons. They were his to command.

Terrance watched for a moment longer. He knew he had a few minutes before people’s attention turned from the fire to the person that started it. The cool air nipped at the sweat that ran easy down his neck. The sirens grew louder. Terrance knew it was time. He ducked into the woods, making his way higher. He ran until the sirens were a muffled whisper in the distance.

When he could run no longer, Terrance stopped to listen. He turned and stared into the murky shadows, thinking he’d heard something nearby. He felt sure no one had followed him, or had even known he was there. Shaking it off, he cut north toward the Downs.

He slipped through the trees, foregoing stealth for speed. The dried pine needles and yellowed foliage crunched beneath his feet. It sounded overloud in the dead quiet of the forest. A broad smile etched on his face, he nearly danced through the woods, unable to contain his excitement.

Once again he’d been able to set off one of his homemade pipe bombs without being caught. The first had been a dud. It fizzled out before it had a chance to explode. It had made the news, but only in passing. His second attempt, however, was a monument to backyard engineering.

The local Motel 6 closed for remodeling, Terrance had his target. He stuffed the electrical box of the huge road sign with three of his bombs. The monstrous explosion echoed through the hills for miles when it went off. It snapped the pole at the base with a ringing pop.

The sign hopped once as it hit the ground, before the rest swung down like a scythe. It crashed into the side of the hotel and smashed through the temporary plywood walls. It shattered glass for five rooms around.

The motel bombing was a front page, breaking story. Though the hotel wasn’t open, a number of unfortunate squatters had taken nighttime residence in it.

The injuries were relatively minor, mostly cuts and scrapes, but there were a few broken bones. It had been a miracle no one had been killed. The fact that anyone had been hurt at all upped the stakes. What had started as a prank had quickly escalated into a felony.

Terrance loved it. Only sixteen, he was likely well on his way to earning a criminal record. But so far, he’d gotten away with everything.

He’d planted two more bombs after the hotel, including his last. Though he loved the notoriety of the hotel bombing, he knew better than to push his luck. So to be safe, he slunk around and blew up little things in places where it was easy to escape.

His heart thumped happily in his chest as he made his way through the woods. He celebrated his latest success.

He never felt the blow that knocked him unconscious.

* * * *

Terrance awoke to a stinging brightness. His eyes fluttered open to a whitewash of blindness. He gasped and tried to shield his eyes, but his wrists had been restrained. Suddenly aware, he felt the cold steel of a collar at his neck. Its solidness limited the motion of his head. His ankles had been bound as well, his legs shackled to the wall behind him.

“You’ve been bad, Terrance,” a low voice sounded from the darkness.

His joy at having gotten away with another bombing faded. He’d been willing to trade a measure of freedom for infamy, should he be caught, but he knew when he heard the voice, he hadn’t been arrested. This was a different predicament altogether. It was one he hadn’t thought of. Hadn’t prepared for. A cold chill ran up his spine.

The light dimmed a bit. The darkness behind it softened into lurking shadows. He could see someone there, a hulking figure that drifted closer. A grating scrape followed at its heels.

His breath was frigid in his lungs. Terrance’s heart galloped a marathon as it pounded roughshod against his ribs. The blackened shape loomed. Then the figure slid into the light.