Not knowing my next move, I ran down the street perpendicular to the one I left. I ran about the length of an abandoned department store before I saw trouble. There were two members of the Family running from the opposite direction on an intercept course. It had to be revenants - why else would angry hardcore scene guys be running toward me? Quick thinking had me turning left toward the abandoned store, running down its alley. A good idea at first, but I found that the alley dead ended abruptly. Acting on impulse, I leapt up on the dumpster and then to the fire escape barely even thinking about it. By this point, my thinking was streamlined, my mind focusing only on running and escape possibilities. I noticed that at the lip of the alley, the revenants from the two directions collided in a comical way that would have made me laugh if my death wasn't impending. Two were knocked to the ground, but the rest ran to the bottom of the fire escape. One jumped higher than a normal human to pull down the ladder.
The change from running to climbing bought me a few moments of a lead, but not all that much. If I was too long on the fire escape, they'd catch me. I was counting on making them think, of doing surprising actions to keep them from overtaking me. Luckily, the department store only had three stories, so I was quickly on the roof. I'm not sure where I thought the roof would get me. There wasn't some magic helicopter waiting for me. I could hear the sirens getting louder, but I don't think they'd be here in time. The roof didn't seem like a good choice. Other than jumping down to the ground and breaking my legs, I only had one exit. I dashed to the side of the roof and recklessly jumped to the roof next to it. It was only about a ten foot gap. If I had been calm and not being chased, I would have balked at the distance and had doubt of my ability to make it. But with the Six Revenants of Death coming behind me, I didn't have a second thought as I leapt to the other building, feeling the impact on my legs, only having a half step of stumble as I resumed my run.
And here is where I truly hit a dead end. There was no exit from this roof. No more adjacent buildings, no roof access that went down into the building. The fire escape for this building had fallen off and had been carted away long ago. I found no holes in the roof through which I could throw myself. Besides exhaust pipes and air conditioning, there was nothing on the roof other than the letters of the store's name that stared down on the street. The letters of the MERRY GO store were nearly my height and on a metal frame that once contained bulbs and neon, those both having been maliciously broken years ago. The E had also been knocked over. I ran to those letters to look down to see if there was anything there I could jump to. Unfortunately, there was nothing down there but a bus stop with a glass overhang. Not enough to break my fall and stop me from killing myself.
I was still standing near the letters when my time ran out. I turned and saw three of the revenants were on my roof, the three others leaping over as I watched. Seeing me cornered, they slowed, malicious smiles lighting up their faces. The sirens were getting louder, but the cops wouldn't see me up here.
"You've had a good run, rabbit, but now it's time to die," said one. Shaved head, chinstrap beard, still seemed to think a wallet chain was fashionable.
I put up my hands in front of me, trying to show surrender. "Look, we're all sensible people, let's discuss this."
"We are not sensible people," said one with a smile. Silver sunglasses at night, red hair. I knew him from the night before, but that didn't help me now.
"We're not even people!" said another who had crazy eyes that bugged out when he looked at me, seeming far too intense for comfort.
I took a step back. "I see from your dress that maybe you like punk music. I also like punk music... hey, I was even in a punk band. Did any of you ever go see Death Comes For the Brave back a few years? That was me!"
A few of them turned to share a glance.
"Never heard of them."
My heart fell.
"I saw 'em," said a revenant in the back.
The others turned to look at this revenant, who had the biggest nose ring I had ever seen. It was like he had a goddamn padlock through his nose. My heart rose just the tiniest bit in hope.
"They sucked!" said the nose-ringed revenant. The others chuckled, great barking laughs that lacked any friendliness.
My heart fell again. The revenants grinned and turned toward me, moving closer with their gliding predator walk.
I took another step back.
There wasn't another step back.
I'm not proud to say that I misjudged the room I had on the roof. Yes, the building had an edge of elevated stone around it. Unfortunately, that was broken in some parts, such as right in front of the letters. Maybe there was also a loose stone. I'm really trying to find something that doesn't have me coming off like a clumsy idiot lacking in situational awareness, so just throw me a bone here.
I slipped. One foot missed the roof, dragging the rest of me with it. As utterly shocked as I was, I was still facing the building, so my hands reached out and grabbed at whatever they could. My fingers painfully caught a pipe that was run along the roof, probably to aid in drainage. Unfortunately, even when the building was new it was doubtful the pipe was intended to hold a person's weight. It definitely was not up to the task now after years lacking in maintenance. It broke almost immediately. One side stayed attached to the building, so the part I was on slipped about ten feet then stopped, leaving me at a precarious angle suspended above the street and sidewalk. I pulled my other arm up and held onto the end of that pipe with both hands. Holding on for dear life on something probably about to give out. Story of my life.
While I struggled to hold on, the revenants came to the side of the building to see what had happened to me. Noticing my predicament, they all grinned at each other, taking a sick pleasure in watching me dangle from the end of the pipe.
"What now, rabbit? What now?"
I racked my brain trying to think of a witty retort that didn't sound completely stupid when hanging by a pipe. Unfortunately, I never had the time to say anything, as the pipe took that moment to break, causing me to fall. I didn't fall directly onto the pavement, breaking my back and splattering all my favorite internal organs. No, my fall was broken short of that, saving my life and causing me great pain. I slammed down onto the glass bus stop bench kiosk, bending the metal and breaking the advertisement for a blockbuster movie no one had heard of. It hurt - a lot. From there I slipped and fell down onto the actual bus bench, which ironically was occupied by someone waiting for the bus. I was thrown against them, jostling them hard.
I looked up, locking my eyes with the man I had just fallen on. Sometimes coincidences hit despite astronomical probability. Maybe things are fated to happen. Maybe we think things are less probable than they actually are. I have no idea. But as I locked eyes with the man, I realized I knew him. I knew him well, because I had seen him die twice. It was all there, the bald head, the meek expression, the look of utter fear on his face. It was the man whose head had exploded. Twice.
His fear deepened into stuttering words. "N-no!"
"No, don't do it!" I said. "Don't do it!"
"N-n-noooo!"
"Don't do it, man, don't do it!"
His head exploded.
I was now covered with blood, brain, and bits of bone. I still was in massive pain from my fall and now experienced the confusion from having someone's head explode at point blank range for the third time. I just didn't have the energy or presence of mind to deal with this all, not in the pain I was in, not with blood and brain on me, not having just run for my life. I vaguely wondered where the revenants were and if they were still after me.
But it wasn't revenants I had to contend with, as they must have backed off when they saw the street suddenly painted in flashing blue and red lights, the siren screeching a banshee's wail to someone who may have gotten a concussion from falling off a building. I slumped against the bench, keeping myself away from the headless corpse as three police cars screeched to a halt in front of me. Officers got out of their veh
icles, using their doors for cover as they pointed their pistols at me.
"Freeze!" they called.
I managed only a futile grimace instead of a friendly smile as I painfully put my hands up.
"This isn't what it looks like."
Police On My Back
"Tell us why you did it."
"I didn't do it!" I said urgently. "Are you not listening to me?"
"C'mon, just tell us why and how, and we can put this whole thing to bed. Aren't you getting tired?"
"Of course I'm getting tired! You guys have kept me in here for... I don't know how long!"
I was in a police interrogation room, where I believed I had been for the past hour or so - I had no idea of the true passage of time. I was still crashing from stress, adrenaline, and shock. The police had arrested me and dragged me to a station in New Avalon where detectives picked tissue samples off me for evidence, then officers hosed me down. My clothes were confiscated and I was given an NAPD sweat shirt and sweat pants. Some feeble attempt had been made to bandage my cuts, but I think that was more so I wouldn't bleed on anything at the station rather than for my wellbeing. They walked me into this interrogation room, sat me down, cuffed me to the desk, and left me to stare at the obviously two-way mirror for a while. Then detectives finally came in to interrogate me, asking the same questions over and over, as if I was going to slip up in my evil plot of murder most foul and suddenly admit to everything I hadn't done.
I had never been in police interrogation before, but it was about what I had seen in movies. A pretty spartan room with the mirror, a camera in the corner, a plain wooden desk, and chairs. A beefy officer with no neck and sweat stained pits stood in the corner, designed to look imposing and ready to kick my ass at moment's notice. He was to keep me in line. The two homicide detectives across from me were the ones who were supposed to wrench the truth out of me - or at least their version of the truth. They had already decided on my guilt.
The detective who had just been talking to me had introduced himself as Detective Silva. He was Hispanic with a strong jaw and crows feet around his eyes. He had short hair - it looked like he kept it short so people couldn't see the gray hair which was starting at his temples. He was the much more talkative of the two, asking me questions over and over, alternately trying to be my friend and then asking really sharp and personal questions. The other had introduced herself as Detective Williams. She had dark curly hair that reached her shoulders. Most of her time was spent examining the file of evidence and checking information on her tablet. She didn't talk as much, but when she did, it was very much to the point. I decided she was the one to watch out for. Both of them were tired. They had come in during the early morning hours to interrogate me - I was the one who had been up all night.
"C'mon, Szandor," said Silva, and I hated how he said my name. It just sounded all wrong. "We got you dead to rights with the fresh corpse. Blood and shit all over you. It was you. I know it. You know it -"
"I don't know it!" I said in protest.
"C'mon - it was you. Just save us the trouble and confess."
"I don't have anything to confess, man. I don't know what happened. The dude was there, then suddenly his head exploded. I don't know how it happened. Maybe... I dunno... a sniper or something?"
"Do snipers cause people's heads to explode?" asked Silva.
"Maybe? How the fuck should I know? You're the one with like, a forensics lab or some shit."
"I'm just trying to get an understanding of what you're trying to say," said Silva benevolently.
"What I'm trying to say is that you're a patronizing jackass," I said. "I'm saying I didn't do it and I don't know what happened. But since you're playing dumb and acting like you are all idiots, I figured I'd suggest something, so you could do your job or something."
"Hey now, no need to be rude," he said.
"Oh really? No need to be rude? Then uncuff me and let me go, this whole incarceration thing seems pretty fucking rude to me."
Silva rolled his eyes and shook his head. He reached into the box on his side of the table. He pulled out a plastic bag, which held the lead pipe had been carrying.
"Tell us about this," he said.
"It's a pipe," I said.
"We found it on you."
"Yeah?"
"Why did you have it?" he insisted.
"Sometimes I help people with plumbing," I said, shrugging. "What are you looking for? Was that dude killed with a lead pipe? I know you're not going to find his blood on the pipe, since that didn't happen."
"Szandor, you need to work with us," said Silva.
"Then work with me!" I said, getting more animated than I should and finding my movements limited when the handcuffs tugged at my hands. "I didn't do it! Work with me and we can talk about how it wasn't me!"
Silva sighed and sat back in his chair. There passed a silent moment.
"Do you like barbecue?" said Williams. Her eyes had not left the file.
"I'm sorry?" I said, confused by the sudden question. "Barbecue? Are you ordering food? I would love some!"
"Tell us about barbecue in Cobalt County," said Williams.
"Wait, what?"
She pulled something from the file and tossed it across the table at me. It was a little plastic bag. It contained one of my business cards that I had created for the funding campaign. I had some with me when they arrested me, so that part didn't shock me.
"Cobalt County. Barbecue. Talk," she said flatly.
Realization hit me and I went cold. I knew why the card was significant. I had given the owner of that restaurant one of my cards. Then I went back to check the alley, and the first man with the head exploded. Paulie and I had driven off, but the man still had my card and a headless body in back. Fuck.
"I enjoy barbecue from time to time," I said diplomatically.
"And you also enjoy checking the back alley where a dead body was found," said Silva. "Same exact method of death as this one."
"What exactly is that method of death?" I asked.
Silva looked to Williams but got no help. "Uh, lack of head."
"You don't even know!" I said triumphantly. "You don't even know how they died!"
"We can place you at both sites," said Williams. "Within what the coroner says is time of death for each victim."
"That's... whatchacallit? Circumstantial," I said.
"It's what I call guilty," said Silva.
"So how did I fucking do it?" I said. "Tell me how I fucking killed them! And why? Why the fuck would I kill two guys by making their fucking heads explode?"
"We're working on it!" said Silva, rising to clash with my tone. Then he thought better of himself and sat back down.
"You're not going anywhere until this is all figured out," said Williams. "So if you are innocent, your best bet is to cooperate."
"I am!" I said, trying to rise from my chair, but jerking on the handcuff again. The officer in the corner tensed, but I sat back down and he calmed. "I am cooperating. I don't know what happened. I'm as confused as you."
"Did..." started Silva, but he flashed a look at Williams, who reluctantly nodded. "Did you see what they looked like?"
"The two guys?" I said.
"You admit that you were at both sites?" said Williams with an eyebrow raise.
"If you want me to cooperate, don't act like you just won a goddamn game of Clue when I confirm something you already knew," I said with annoyance. "Yeah, I saw the guys."
"What did they look like?" said Silva. There was something in his voice I couldn't figure out. I realized he might have an idea of something that bugged him.
"They were twins, as far as I could tell," I said.
Silva nodded and wrote something down.
"Did they have the same, like, DNA or something?" I asked.
"And fingerprints," said Silva.
"No shit? Isn't that like... not possible or something?"
"That's what I've heard," said Silva.
"Mr
. Nowak, what's your involvement in all this?" said Williams. "Despite your fervent protests of innocence, your presence at both crime scenes lacks a reason if you are not the murderer."
"At the barbecue restaurant, I was checking out something in the back for the owner," I said.
"In pursuit of your... 'monster hunting' activities?" said Williams.
"Yeah," I said, finding myself unhappy to be agreeing to the truth. To them, I sounded crazy. "But I was authorized to be there. Ask the owner. He knew I was going to check out back."
"He didn't know you were going to be leaving a body there," said Williams.
"Hey, that guy was already back there when I got there," I said.
"And yet you took off after he died," said Silva.
"Fuck, man, I had a dude's head just suddenly explode in my face! I was in shock! I didn't know what the fuck to do? Would you?"
"Well, yeah of course -" started Silva.
"If you weren't a cop?" I persisted.
This time he didn't answer.
"What about the victim in the Husks?" said Williams.
"Hey, that's a good point. Why is the NAPD investigating a death in Huskerville?" I said. "Isn't there a jurisdiction issue?"
"NAPD works with the whole metro area," said Silva. "Especially homicide, since we're the ones with a department. Huskerville has no homicide detectives."
"Irrelevant, in any case," said Williams. "The man in the Husks, Mr. Nowak."
"Alright, sorry. Well, I kinda just bumped into the guy at the bus stop," I said.
"The bus stop where you broke the glass kiosk?" said Williams. "We found glass fragments in your clothes and hair."
"Okay, maybe I fell off a building," I said.
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