Allison

by Strand, Jeff

  “If she can do that, do you even want to find her?” Cody asked.

  “Well, Cody, that’s an interesting question. If it were up to me, I’d douse this place in gasoline, set it on fire, and never think of it or her again. Unfortunately, I pretty much have to catch her if I ever want another moment of peace in my life.” For a second Daxton looked like he might burst into tears.

  “So your girlfriend made you do this?”

  Daxton looked confused. “What?”

  The chain of events had seemed pretty obvious. Allison causes girlfriend to lose baby. Boyfriend loses grip on sanity and vows revenge. Boyfriend brings people over to help him get this revenge. Bloodbath ensues.

  So why did Daxton seem surprised by Cody asking if his girlfriend made him do this? He said it wasn’t up to him. Who else would it be up to? This was revenge for the dead baby, right?

  Cody didn’t clarify his question. He just looked at Daxton.

  Daxton broke eye contact and then seemed to understand the question. “Yeah,” he said. “She wants me to make things right.”

  He was lying. Something else was going on here. These men didn’t break into Allison’s home to get revenge for the accident. Maybe Daxton was evil, not just distraught.

  As Cody glanced around at the carnage, he suddenly came up with a plan that could actually work. “Listen,” he said. “I barely know her. Hell, you’ve known her a few seconds longer than I have. We didn’t sleep together. I came here wanting to help her, but I didn’t know she was capable of this.” He gestured to the dead bodies. “I thought she was kind of weird. I didn’t know she was a killing machine.”

  Daxton chuckled. “Killing machine. Melodramatic but accurate.”

  “I’m not on her side anymore. I’m not saying I’m on your side, since you keep threatening to shoot me, but you can’t seriously believe that I’m going to protect somebody who would slaughter people like this, can you? We need to stop her before she does this to anybody else. Before she kills another baby. She killed your baby, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Maybe Daxton was a skilled liar in other circumstances, but he was a terrible liar when he was losing his mind. Allison didn’t kill his baby. He’d made that up. Why? What kind of sicko would do such a thing?

  It didn’t matter right now.

  “Then let’s get her,” said Cody.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. What was your plan?”

  “To search the place.”

  “Let’s search the place.”

  Cody hoped that Daxton would lower the gun, but he kept it pointed at him as they went from room to room. Upon Daxton’s instructions, Cody looked under her bed, in her closet, and anywhere else she might be hiding. She wasn’t there, unless her powers included invisibility. The idea that she’d moved her car and then returned to the house had been a real stretch anyway.

  “What now?” Cody asked.

  “Where do you think she might have gone?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Your place, maybe?”

  “Maybe.” Cody didn’t believe that Allison would show up at his place seeking help. That would put him in danger, and she didn’t seem like the kind of person who would drag him into this mess. But he didn’t want Daxton to think he was out of options, and that he might as well cut his losses, shoot Cody in the back of the head, and run. “We can check. She obviously doesn’t have a key or anything, but if she’s truly in trouble she might hang out there and wait.”

  Daxton nodded. “She might.”

  “It’s a long shot. I won’t lie to you.”

  “Can’t hurt to check. Are you in a house or an apartment?”

  “Apartment.”

  “So there’d be security cameras. I guess it can hurt to check.”

  “I’m not sure if there are security cameras,” said Cody. “I’ve never really noticed any.”

  “What we need to do is find somebody who can get into her phone. You’re pretty nerdy—do you have any friends who can crack a passcode?”

  Cody didn’t. For a split second he considered lying about this, to buy himself some more time, but when that time ran out he’d probably get shot. “No, sorry.”

  Daxton slapped himself in the forehead, so hard that it made Cody flinch. This guy was having definite problems.

  “I can drive you wherever you want to go,” said Cody. “My place, your place, wherever.”

  “You just want to get away from all of these corpses.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s part of it.”

  Daxton turned toward the window. A light blue van with soap bubbles painted on the side—the logo for a non-existent carpet cleaning service—pulled into the driveway, parking right behind Cody’s vehicle.

  “Is that her?” Cody asked.

  Daxton shook his head. “No. Fuck. Fuck.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Cleaning crew.”

  17

  Daxton considered fleeing out the back door with Cody, but the guys on the cleanup crew were likely to recognize his car, so they’d know he was still in the area. He didn’t relish the thought of wandering through the woods with a hostage. Too many ways that could go wrong.

  He’d just have to smile and hope for the best.

  “Do we run?” Cody asked.

  “Nope. You don’t say a word unless I ask you a direct question. They’re here to get rid of the dead bodies, so if I was going to kill you, the best possible time would be while they’re right here to haul you away. Saves me some trouble. With that in mind, I’m going to very strongly encourage you to be on your best possible behavior.”

  “I won’t say a word unless you ask me a direct question,” said Cody.

  “Good boy.”

  Two men got out of the van. Daxton recognized both of them: Vincent Long and Matt Borland, Mr. Winlaw’s standard hires for this type of work. Daxton wasn’t drinking buddies with them but they were on friendly enough terms.

  He walked right up to the broken window. “Hey!” he called out. “It’s Daxton! Just letting you know I’m in here!”

  Vincent and Matt exchanged a glance then walked toward the house. Daxton unlocked the front door then pulled Cody into the center of the room, right at the edge of Forrest’s pool of blood.

  The door opened and the cleanup crew stepped inside. Vincent and Matt looked like father and son, though they weren’t related. Vincent was in his thirties, handsome, and energetic, while Matt looked like Vincent after twenty years of being beaten down by life. They were both dressed like sanitation workers and wore rubber gloves.

  “Hi, guys,” said Daxton. He decided not to smile. He didn’t want them to think he was trying too hard to pretend that everything was all right.

  “Who’s that?” Matt asked.

  “He’s my asset. He can lead me to the girl.”

  “You know, Winlaw is having a complete fit,” said Vincent. “You’re supposed to be on your way over there.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I was going to. Had car problems. She shot my tires out. I was going to make Cody drive me over there.”

  “No, you weren’t,” said Matt. “Not unless you’re a suicidal idiot. If I were you, I’d be on my way to the Mexican border right now. Or the Canadian one. One of the borders.”

  Vincent walked past them and looked into the kitchen. “Damn, Daxton. This is way worse than the last mess of yours we had to clean up.”

  “Neither of them were my fault.”

  “Look at these guys. Look at this one’s eyeball. One chick really did all of this?”

  Daxton pointed to the man he’d shot in the head. “I did that one. He was trying to kill her, when Mr. Winlaw specifically demanded that she be captured. She did the other five.”

  “She’s vicious. Matt, you should take a look. Their skin is all red and bubbly and stuff. These are some seriously fucked up gentlemen on this kitchen floor.”

  “I’ll see them when we put them in the bags,” said Matt.
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  “It’s gnarly. Nowhere near as bad as Daxton will look if he’s dumb enough to turn himself in, but gnarly.”

  “You should see Forrest’s mouth,” said Daxton.

  Vincent walked over to Forrest, crouched down, and rolled him over. He opened Forrest’s mouth with a pair of gloved fingers. “Oh, damn, where’d his teeth go?”

  “She knocked them out.”

  “High kick?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Wow. That’s crazy.” Vincent stood back up. “Oh, yeah, I see them on the floor. Does the Tooth Fairy pay you for other people’s teeth, or do they have to be your own?”

  “I don’t know the loopholes,” said Daxton.

  “Do you know how much kids get for teeth these days?” asked Matt. “I’ve heard of kids getting five bucks. I got a quarter. I’d knock out my permanent teeth for five bucks a pop.”

  “Anyway,” said Daxton, “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

  “Yeah, you’d better be on your way,” said Vincent. “Don’t worry. We won’t tell Winlaw we saw you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You want us to get rid of your car?”

  Daxton considered that. He still hoped to reconcile with Winlaw somehow, in which case he’d regret ditching his car. And if he did have to murder Cody and get out of town, he didn’t want to be driving a missing man’s vehicle. “No, that’s okay. If you could get it off the side of the road and tow it to the driveway, I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. We have to get rid of the other van anyway.”

  “You guys are awesome.”

  “Hey, we’re all in this together,” said Vincent. “Oh, and leave him with us.”

  Daxton frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “Was I unclear? Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget to enunciate. Leave the asset with us.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You said he could lead you to the girl,” said Vincent. “That makes him valuable to Winlaw, which makes him valuable to us. We’re doing you a huge favor by not ratting you out right now, so you’re going to do us a favor in return.”

  Daxton shook his head. “No. No way. He’s my only bargaining chip. You take him away and I’m dead for sure.”

  “Not just dead,” said Vincent. “Kirkwooded. Is there a past tense form of that? There’d have to be, right? Winlaw will Kirkwood you, after which you’ll be Kirkwooded.” He glanced over at Matt. “That’s correct, right?”

  “Sounds correct to me.”

  “C’mon, guys. You can’t do this to me. You’re leaving me with nothing.”

  “I disagree,” said Matt. “We’re leaving you with a car and a head start. You get on the road now and floor that gas pedal, you may just be okay.”

  “Please don’t do this,” said Daxton. “I’ll beg. I’ll get down on my knees and beg. I don’t care—I’ve got no pride left. He’s going after Maggie.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Vincent. “Winlaw wouldn’t hurt a pregnant woman.”

  He and Matt looked at each other, then burst into laughter, because of course Winlaw would.

  “I’m begging you,” said Daxton.

  “You already said that,” Vincent told him. “Make you a deal. Get down on your knees right there in all of Forrest’s blood and muck, kneel right on a few of his teeth, and beg us with all of your heart, and maybe we’ll reconsider.”

  “Fuck you,” said Daxton. He’d humiliate himself without hesitation if he thought they’d really let him leave with Cody. But they wouldn’t. They’d point and laugh, and Daxton would walk out of the house with bloody knees and no hostage.

  Cody looked positively terrified. As well he should.

  “He keeps trying to escape,” said Daxton. “Good luck finishing the job while babysitting him.”

  “We appreciate your concern,” said Matt.

  “Winlaw’s going to kill him.” Daxton figured he might as well let Cody know that he was basically doomed. He’d rather Cody die in an escape attempt than let these assholes get the credit for delivering him.

  “Well, duh,” said Vincent.

  “You don’t think I can shoot both of you?” Daxton asked.

  “No,” said Matt. “We don’t.”

  Daxton pointed his gun at Cody’s head. “Maybe I’ll kill him myself.”

  “That would just piss us off,” said Vincent. “I think you should be thankful we’re not dragging you in to see Winlaw—which would earn us points with the big guy, believe me. Take my advice and drive away from here.”

  Daxton lowered the gun. He had no other play.

  “Give me the keys,” he told Cody.

  “I’m not valuable at all,” Cody said to Vincent and Matt. “Like I was telling him, I barely know Allison. He’s known her longer than I have. I have nothing to offer.”

  “That’s not true,” said Vincent. “Winlaw can take his frustration out on you. Give Daxton your keys.”

  Cody reached into his pocket and took out a key ring. He tried to remove the car key, but his hands were trembling and he couldn’t get it off the ring.

  “Just give him the whole set,” said Vincent. “Getting locked out of your house is the least of your worries right now.”

  Cody handed over the keys. Daxton was having a very, very bad day, but Cody’s was probably going to be worse. Daxton honestly felt a little bit sorry for that poor son of a bitch.

  He couldn’t think of any savage parting words, so he just silently left through the front door.

  As he walked toward Cody’s car, he took out his cell phone. He’d missed several calls from Winlaw. Presumably, when Winlaw ripped out Daxton’s tenth toenail, he’d say, “And that was for ignoring my calls!”

  He got into Cody’s car, backed out of the driveway, and sped off.

  It wasn’t like Winlaw had the resources to place roadblocks around the city. If Daxton drove all day and all night, stopping only to refuel, and then went to live in a cabin for a few months, Winlaw might forget about his vendetta. Maggie would bitch about it all day, every day, but at least she’d be alive. And it would be a good story for their kid.

  A few minutes later, another call from Winlaw came through. Daxton ignored it.

  Then a text message.

  You’re digging yourself in deeper.

  Winlaw despised text messages. This was really serious.

  Another text: I know you’re seeing these.

  There really wasn’t anything Daxton could do to plead his case. He didn’t respond.

  How much worse are you trying to make this for yourself?

  How much worse could it get?

  And then a picture. Daxton slammed on the brakes as he saw the image of Maggie, one eye swollen, duct tape over her mouth.

  Shall we trade?

  Daxton screamed and slammed his fists against the steering wheel. He screamed in frustration, and he screamed in misery, and he screamed in horror, all while he pounded the steering wheel until his hands felt like they were broken. He resisted the urge to smash them against the windows.

  Daxton...?

  No. They weren’t going to trade. He wasn’t going to give his life for Maggie’s.

  He wanted to fling the phone to the floor and stomp on it until it shattered, but no. He’d need it. He had to be smart about this. He tossed the phone into the back seat instead.

  He wondered if Winlaw would tell Maggie that Daxton had refused to come back for her. Stupid question. Of course he would. He’d taunt her with the knowledge that Daxton didn’t love her or their child enough to sacrifice himself for them.

  That would hurt worse than when he took out the tools.

  No, it wouldn’t. Once he went to work on her, she’d forget all about Daxton and anything else but the pain.

  Daxton looked at himself in the rearview mirror. That was what a cowardly piece of shit looked like. But no amount of self-loathing was going to get him to give himself up. He’d warned Maggie that she was in danger. She obv
iously hadn’t taken him seriously enough.

  He resumed driving.

  18

  Spiral was not a good car passenger. He kept pacing and meowing and climbing all over Allison and jumping down dangerously close to the gas and brake pedals. When she brought him home from the animal shelter, he’d slept most of the way, but she’d been calm and soothing and he was probably happy to get out of the cage. Now she was a nervous wreck, and the cat was appropriately stressed out.

  She was driving seventy-four miles per hour on a sixty-five miles-per-hour highway, since as long as she wasn’t exceeding the speed limit by ten miles per hour she was unlikely to get pulled over. She’d been driving for about thirty minutes, and still had no thoughts as to where she should go, besides “far away.” Her thoughts were consumed by images of the people she’d killed.

  And then Allison noticed red and blue flashing lights in her rearview mirror. Oh, God. Had the police found the bodies? Did the authorities have an APB out for her car?

  She glanced at the speedometer. Shit. She was actually going quite a bit faster than seventy-four. How long had she been doing that without noticing?

  She didn’t trust herself to outrun the cops in a high-speed pursuit, so she applied the brakes and pulled over to the side. She took a long, deep breath. Stay calm. Nothing to worry about. It was just a speeding ticket. She’d be fine.

  But now she was second-guessing the effectiveness of her shower. It had been way too quick. She’d missed some blood for sure. Maybe there was blood on her ear or in her hair. She didn’t want the cop to catch her checking out her reflection—he’d think she was wondering if her eyes were dilated or something like that—so she stared straight ahead, trying desperately to stay calm, but desperation was the opposite of calmness.

  What if she killed a cop?

  She couldn’t even simply accept defeat and turn herself in. She could kill him from the back of the police car while handcuffed. If she tried to explain this to him, he’d think she was lying or insane.