Skulls (7 page)

The cold gleam of the axe flickered. The blade dragged heavily across the wooden floor. Terrance’s eyes locked on the axe. Terror sunk deep into his heart, a spiraling well of despair.

Pride had never been an issue for Terrance. Integrity was a fantasy only his dead father had believed in. He begged for his life with abandon. Snot and tears streamed down his face. He stared into the masked man’s dark eyes. What little faith he had withered in the dead abyss of their glare. It was a festering rot that devoured all hope.

His blurred gaze drifted downward. On the floor, Terrance spotted the black plastic tarp beneath him. His heart stopped in his chest. He looked up again fast, tears leaping from his eyes. He knew then he was living his final moments. It was a sickening realization.

Terrance wailed and thrashed against the restraints. The man held the axe out and let it swing back and forth. It was a shimmering pendulum that reflected the light.

A muffled chuckle slipped from behind the mask. After a moment, the man raised the blade and hoisted it over Terrance’s head.

Terrance’s screams doubled in fervor as the blade dropped. Its edge cleaved the toes from his right foot. Blood exploded in small geysers. The moist splat of it struck the tarp.

Pain washed over Terrance and his throat gave out. The jagged shards of his screech shredded his larynx. Vomit boiled over in its place. It spilled down his chin and streamed to the floor to mingle with the dark blood at his feet.

Terrance hung limp and trembled. His body convulsed as shock wormed its way to the surface. A gloved hand lifted his chin as the masked man looked into his eyes. Consciousness wavered and Terrance barely noticed the blade as it dropped once more.

It sunk into the meat of his thigh. Terrance slammed his head against the wall as searing bolts of pain streaked through his body.

The man left the blade buried where it was. He wiggled its handle each time Terrance threatened to pass out. He was spurred into agonizing awareness with every tiny movement. Fresh tendrils of warm blood streamed down his leg. It was horrible proof he was still alive.

Terrance rambled, words spilling from his mouth like the bloody spittle that ran down his chin. Drop by drop his life ebbed away. The moments passed in torturous slowness until Terrance could no longer even babble.

It was then the masked man pulled the blade from his leg. Terrance hung there without so much as a whimper. Lifting his chin again, the man looked into Terrance’s eyes one last time. The room darkened. He drew the axe back again.

The blade thudded into Terrance’s stomach and a bubbling blackness spilled over the handle. It gushed toward the floor. Terrance’s vision tunneled as he saw his blood bubbling from the wound. His mind floated in a thick fog. He stared at the encroaching darkness as the light of his world dimmed.

After a moment, there was nothing
but
darkness.

Chapter Ten

Jacob snapped back into his own head with a sickening pop. The skull gripped tight in his white-knuckled hand, he crumbled to the floor. The connection was broken. He unconsciously stared into the eyes of Terrance’s skull. There was only black and the faint whispers of smoke.

Tremors shook him. Images whipped past his mind’s eye like a train hurtling upon the tracks. Flickers of light and dark sparked intermittently. Color was washed out by the dull gray, only to be reborn again in a flash.

Tingles prickled his skin as though he lay in a bed of ants, their tiny legs marching along his sensitive flesh. He sputtered, his heart an engine drowned in morbid fuel. His head was awash in a warm, distorting haze and he felt flush.

He didn’t remember getting up, or placing the skull back, yet there he stood. Terrance’s skull was settled in its niche and stared boldly back at him. Jacob felt his eyes drift. There was a gentle tug against them. Somewhere deep down he reasserted control and looked away. He stared at the dirty ground.

Somehow he made his way to the ladder. He saw his hands as they grasped the rungs and marveled at their continued function. He couldn’t feel them.

He pulled himself from the hatch and kicked it closed behind him. The sound stung his ears. His head ached as he scrambled to his feet. He tossed the concealing web of foliage over the wooden door without thinking about it.

Before he even realized, he was in the woods. Terrance and Katie jockeyed for position inside his head. A montage of mental photographs fluttered before his eyes like a shuffling deck of cards that refused to be dealt. Each thought washed away by the next before it could be fully understood.

Branches slapped his cheeks red as he staggered aimless. A burgeoning awareness sparked to life in the back of his mind. He could see the trees as they approached. They whipped by in a willowy haze, his shoulders bouncing off the clustered trunks as though he were a pinball.

Unsure of how far he’d walked, or even in what direction, Jacob’s coherence crept caterpillar-slow to the forefront. Confusion came along with it. For the first time since he’d climbed the ladder, he stopped moving.

He stared into the shadowed forest looking for landmarks. He saw nothing but more trees. The land having plateaued around him, it threw off is natural sense of direction. The slope of the mountain had always been his clue to which way was home.

He stood still and forced his mind to focus. At last, his heartbeat slowed enough to stop flooding his ears. He heard a repetitive
thunk
through the trees. With no better directional guide, he followed the sound.

Jacob weaved through the woods, the sound flittering back and forth around him. He found his course at last. The noise grew closer and he sped up. He pushed his way past a wedge of gnarled branches and stumbled into a clearing.

Not more than thirty feet from where he stood, just past a primer-gray Chevy pickup, an older man in faded overalls stared at Jacob over a clustered pile of split logs. An axe dangled in one hand. Jacob froze. He met the man’s steely gaze, memories flitting at the sight of the axe.

The man was shirtless, his bald crown tanned. Meaty slabs of aged muscle stretched the overalls to the limit. He raised the axe as though it were a toy and pointed it at Jacob.

“What are you doing on my property, boy?” His voice rumbled deep, scaring the grackles from the trees.

Jacob felt the surge of adrenaline hit just as he realized who the man was—Old Man Jenks. Jacob was back in the trees before Jenks could take a step forward.

He heard the old man shout again, but fear made Jacob quick. The thought of the axe coming at him from behind fed his feet with fire. He tore through the woods, paying no heed to the branches that whipped his skin into bloody streaks.

He barreled ahead and threatened to topple face first at any moment. The dwindling cries of Old Man Jenks did nothing to slow his pace. Jacob’s lungs were like pistons in his chest. Great huffing breaths stretched his ribs and he barely noticed the barbed wire fence that sprung up out of nowhere.

He leapt without thinking, clearing the fence easily, but his momentum pulled his feet from under him. He landed hard, his chest slamming into the ground. He gasped for breath as he careened down the hill face first. He dug his hands into the soft earth and tried to slow his descent, only managing to spin himself sideways. His slide turned into a tumble.

A moment later, a tangle of trees succeeded where Jacob had failed.

He slid into the unforgiving branches, which tore at him like cat’s claws. The thick trunk of an evergreen taught him a textbook lesson in physics. His upper back slammed into the tree. Flesh shredded on impact and Jacob came to a sudden halt. His head whiplashed back and missed smashing into the trunk by just inches.

His back hummed. Jacob felt the sharp, burning sting of the skin he’d torn off. Dizzy and wanting to curl up into a ball, he knew he had to keep going. The old man’s axe would have no mercy.

He climbed to his feet and started off again. Every step was a grinding misery. Salty sweat seeped into his wounds. Determined to make it home alive, he gritted his teeth and found the strength to put one foot in front of the other until they slapped down onto his empty driveway.

He staggered up the stairs and nearly leapt inside the trailer. He locked the door and double-checked all the windows before going to his room. Exhausted, he dropped down on the bed.

Thoughts of Terrance whirled through his head. Katie’s image was interspersed throughout. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed to chase them away. Marginally successful, he lay there listening to his breathing. The pillow reflected it back warmly onto his face. The rhythmic sound lulled his mind to peace and he fell asleep.

Chapter Eleven

Jacob woke to the sound of heavy-booted footsteps. He jumped up in bed with a start clutching handfuls of the sheet beneath him.

It took just a few seconds for him to realize it wasn’t Old Man Jenks come to get him, but simply his father stomping about the house like he always did.

Jacob eased back onto the bed to catch his breath. He glanced at the clock and sighed. He had more than thirty minutes until his dad left to take Ann to work. Then they’d be at the bar the rest of the night.

Not interested in reminding his parents of his sorry existence, he stayed in his room and kept quiet. Oblivious to his being there, or simply not caring one way or the other, they went about their business. As always, he wasn’t a part of it.

Jacob could smell dinner cooking. The greasy scent seeped into his room uninvited. His stomach turned over, but he ignored it. If he felt better later, he’d scrounge for something after they left. He had no doubt he’d regret joining them.

He listened to their inane babble as they ate, only a little surprised to not hear his name come up. Dishes clattered and muffled words continued to fill the air, mouthfuls of food not keeping them from talking over one another.

After what seemed an eternity, they finished eating and abandoned the table. He heard his father grab his keys and go to the door, shouting at his wife to hurry up. Ann yelled her response from their bedroom as his dad went outside and started his truck. Finally, several engine revs and a bunch of horn honks later, Ann left the trailer. Her signature skunk spray of perfume invaded the rest of the house.

Jacob waited until the truck pulled away before reaching over to turn on his CD player. He hit the forward button until the darkened rhythm of Metallica’s “Fade to Black” purred into his ears. He lay back, waiting for his stepmother’s perfume to clear, letting the music occupy his mind. While it usually soothed all, it was only partially successful tonight. Once more, the images of the skulls floated to the surface.

He could see Terrance’s pain as the axe cleaved his toes from his foot. He could feel his torment as the blade wiggled in the open wound of his thigh. Blood flowed inside Jacob’s mind.

While Terrance was most likely on his way to being a career criminal, what he’d done, however stupid and careless, hadn’t been deserving of such horrific punishment. Like with Katie though, it wasn’t about what was fair. It was simply about murder and the opportunity to get away with it. The killer had come out on top in both cases.

Katie and Terrance had been alone and somewhere they shouldn’t have been. Each had paid for their mistakes with their lives. Through some tainted miracle, he couldn’t begin to understand, Jacob had watched them both die in the memories of their skulls.

Cold shivers shook Jacob. Once more his heart sputtered. The images of murder were a carousel of morbid memories, its wheel stuck in perpetual motion. He wanted off the ride. But at the same time, its lure compelled him to go around one more time. The barker’s pitch was too compelling to say no.

The horribly too appropriate song “Creeping Death” started up. Jacob shut the player off and made his way into the living room. There was the usual mess, but once again, there was no list of chores. He smiled, luck having finally rolled his way. He focused on spending time with Cass and set to cleaning up the house. He didn’t want anything to stand in the way of his going to the party.

As he went about his work, his vision dulled to gray every so often. The sudden flickers drained the world of color. Spectral portraits of Katie and Terrance kept appearing, their torment splashed across his mind. He had to stop what he was doing several times when he realized he nearly cut off his finger as he washed the dishes. Caught up in the throes of one of the episodes, he noticed drops of blood colored the soapy water. That only triggered more of the morbid visions.

He hurriedly finished his work, then hopped into the shower. He stepped under the nearly scalding water and clenched his teeth to keep from screaming. Searing heat washed over his wounds and made him dance under the water’s fall. His back stung under the steaming flow. Though his injuries were minor, he had so many cuts and scrapes it was as if they were one big open sore.

He relived the torment once more as the soap stirred his agony. Finally, the water began to cool. His wounds had grown numb, the pain battered away by the constant spray.

Out of the shower, he left a wet trail of footprints on the way to his room. He looked out his window and saw the sun had crept behind the mountains. Not wanting to disappoint Cass, he finished dressing in a rush and bolted out the door to Chris’s house.