No Fear

by Nolon King

Silence. Then whispering, as if the monster was talking to someone.

  “Mister K isn’t very happy. But our work will continue, and soon the world will see what’s in store.”

  “Oh, exciting. What do you and Mister K have in store?”

  “I’m sending you something tonight at ten. A manifesto for you to read on-air.”

  “Call the news or the sheriff’s office. I’m on suspension and don’t give a fuck.”

  “Check your phone.”

  An image came through. Mal saw a little boy, one and a half or so, with a long knife to his little throat, holding a piece of paper with a scribbled address.

  “What the fuck is that?” Mal’s heart was already pounding.

  “Have the police go to that address and you’ll see. You will read my manifesto on the air, on the same channel, every word without censoring me. Only then will I allow this child live. Otherwise, I will slit his throat. Then you and your wicked colleagues can bathe in his guilt.”

  The killer hung up before Mal could say anything else.

  She stared at the photo, a helpless toddler completely unaware of the danger.

  Her chest was tight, and she couldn’t breathe.

  Anxiety was crashing down on her in an overpowering wave, surrounding and suffocating, crushing her under its violent weight.

  Mal gasped for air, and stumbled toward her jacket, draped over the back of the couch. She grabbed the bottle of Xanax, took two, and washed them down with several hard swallows from a bottle of water.

  She gave herself a second to recover her breath, desperate to calm herself.

  The sound of crashing glass startled her, and Mal looked to see the glass of Coke that Katie had left on the counter had fallen and shattered on the floor.

  An icy feeling fell over her, an uneasy certainty that she wasn’t alone.

  She stared at the glass as her phone rang on the patio.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she yelled at Mike.

  He was speechless, probably from the sound of her panic.

  “Mal?” Mike sounded afraid when he finally spoke. “What’s wrong?”

  But Mal couldn’t answer.

  Chapter 35 - Jasper Parish

  Jasper had a vision, with Jordyn by his side.

  They were in Mallory’s hotel room, watching her on the balcony.

  Jordyn turned to him and said something, but Jasper couldn’t hear her.

  He tried to ask what, but his mouth refused to open. He pawed at it with his hands, but his fingers were fused and his features were melting. Panic swelled, but then he heard a soothing sound, relaxing music coming from another door.

  A bathroom. With a teenage girl taking a bubble bath. She felt familiar to him — someone Mallory had helped before.

  Katie.

  The name popped into his head. The daughter he’d dreamed of Mallory having.

  Something isn’t right. But what?

  Jordyn thought in his head. Something is off. Something is very off.

  A phone rang from the kitchen.

  Jasper knew it was the killer. And now he could see the hulking beast, thick framed glasses, greasy dark hair.

  But that wasn’t it. There was someone else with him, a frenzied blend of darkness without shape, trying to take form. Something purely evil. Mister K it called itself.

  It’s not real, Jordyn said in his head. It’s not real.

  Jasper wasn’t sure why, but he thought back to her, Neither am I. And neither are you.

  Mal raced back into the room, grabbed her phone.

  Jasper and Jordyn watched as the photo of the toddler in danger rocked Mallory’s world.

  Fuck, Jasper thought.

  The killer issued his demands.

  They had to warn her.

  Jasper dug his fingernails into the skin where his mouth should be. It felt thin — he should be able to puncture a hole into the flesh to get his words out.

  But the skin wasn’t budging.

  Jordyn tried to scream, but her mouth refused to open, despite it not being covered by skin. They watched Mallory have her panic attack, racing to the couch for her pills.

  We’ve got to warn her. She can’t take the bait!

  But how could they warn her when she couldn’t see them? They weren’t even there. Jasper was in the hole, and the only person who could help him from inside the prison was dead.

  Anguish was a scream he couldn’t release.

  Jasper raged, swinging his malformed hand at a glass of soda on the counter. To his surprise, he felt the impact as it sent the glass from the counter to shards in the carpet.

  Mal looked at the glass, then up, as if she could maybe see them.

  Oh, my God! We did it! We—

  A wave of ice water crashed over Jasper.

  He was yanked awake to find himself back in the hole, looking up to see Young Luther and D’Andre standing over him. D’Andre dropped a plastic pail on the ground.

  “Wake the fuck up, old man,” Young Luther said.

  Jasper slowly sat up, his head pounding. Everything was fuzzy as he tried to remember what had happened in the yard. Blood dripped from a scratch in his forehead, stinging his eyes as it fell.

  Then it came back to him — Hernandez shivved, Muscles trying to ice Jasper before guards got on him, and D’Andre taking him down.

  D’Andre yanked Jasper out of his bunk, slammed him up against the wall, then shoved him back to the floor. “Stay down, bitch!”

  Young Luther shook his head. “I thought you was gonna play ball with me.”

  “I was playing ball. I told the CO what you wanted me to.”

  “Then why the fuck he go and report to the warden? Lucky for me, warden’s in on it, too, boo. Ain’t shit that happens in here without my say so, you feel me?”

  Fuck. Why didn’t Hernandez just keep his damn mouth shut?

  Young Luther kicked Jasper in the ribs for failing to answer.

  “I said, do. You. Feel. Me?” A kick punctuated every word.

  Jasper clutched at his ribcage, doubled over in agony on the floor.

  “So, seeing as I can’t trust yo’ ass, I need to decide am I gonna kill you or make you my bitch?”

  “Fuck you,” Jasper growled through the pain. Young Luther went to kick him again.

  Jasper sensed it coming and moved to intercept.

  But he failed to move fast enough, so Young Luther’s foot caught him right in the elbow — the same spot where Jasper had been bashed with the baton. More agony exploded, and he fell back to the ground.

  “Man, you got a lotta spunk for an ol’ man, and not the good kind, neither.” Young Luther laughed. “You’re like one of those young colts or somethin’, all wild ’n shit. But ain’t ever been a horse I couldn’t break.” He walked over to Jasper and grabbed him by the neck. “I asked you a question. You wanna die, or would you rather be my bitch?”

  Jasper glared up at him through the sweat and blood stinging his eyes. He needed to get out, but damn it if he was anybody’s bitch.

  “Come on, Dad, just say whatever you need to say,” Jordyn begged.

  But Jasper glared back without saying a word.

  Young Luther punched him in the cheek. Pure pain splintered through him, almost enough to make him pass out. His entire body felt like it had been run over and was now about to be tossed off a bridge.

  Young Luther approached. Jasper’s vision was too blurred to see anything but his feet.

  Again, he grabbed Jasper by the neck and repeated his question. “Should I kill you or make you my bitch?”

  “Dad! Say something!”

  But Jasper kept chewing on silence.

  Young Luther punched him in the back of the head, then took a step back. “That’s a damned shame. But here’s the thing, old man. My asking was only a formality. I ain’t gonna kill you. I’ll make you wish you was dead instead. You will be my bitch.”

  Jasper was doomed. No way to help Mallory now. The best he could hope for wa
s seeing his wife and daughter again in the afterlife.

  He glared up at Young Luther, struggled to sit up, blood and sweat still stinging his eyes. He squinted, wiping it away so he could see Young Luther’s face. Blood coated Jasper’s tongue and teeth as he smiled.

  “Fuck you.”

  Young Luther’s face contorted in rage as he wound up to take another charge at Jasper.

  D’Andre moved first, and fast, shoving his shiv into Young Luther’s jugular, then pulling it out and stabbing the man repeatedly in his gut.

  Young Luther stumbled back, surprise in his wide eyes as he clutched at his neck, unable to stop the fountain of blood. He stood there dazed, like a boxer about to fall, trying to speak, but only blood came out of his mouth.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch” D’Andre said, shoving Young Luther into the wall.

  He collapsed to the ground, wide-eyed, staring up at his betrayer. The last face he’d ever see.

  “What?” was all Jasper could say.

  D’Andre said, “Surprise, motherfucker. Logic sent me in to get your ass out.”

  “What?”

  Jordyn laughed, joy filling her face.

  “He made sure I got in good with 904. The rest, as they say, is history. Now, we’ve got to get you the fuck outta here.”

  “How?” Jasper said.

  D’Andre reached into his pocket, pulled out a cellphone, then made a call. “Yo, it’s D. Shit’s done. We’re ready.” He returned the phone to his pocket.

  “Who the hell was that?” Jasper asked, struggling, and failing, to stand.

  “Jurko. He’s gonna hook us up.”

  “So, I just have one question,” Jasper said, looking at Young Luther.

  “Shoot, dog.”

  “You think you could’ve stepped in before he beat the shit out of me?”

  D’Andre laughed. “Yeah, not gonna’ lie, a part of me was enjoying the show.”

  “What?”

  “I’m just fuckin’ with ya’, man. I was waiting for him to tire himself out. Once the rage had him, his eyes weren’t on me, ya’ know?”

  Jasper nodded, feeling a dull ache coming to swallow the worst of his stabbing pains.

  “Come on, man.” D’Andre offered a hand then helped Jasper to his feet.

  Jurko met them outside the cell. “C’mon. We need to get this shit on the road.”

  Chapter 36 - Mallory Black

  Mal was driving to the TV studio, talking to Katie on the phone while trying to pretend she wasn’t scared shitless of the monster murdering the toddler, pretending she hadn’t just heard about the old woman found shredded and carved with religious iconography.

  She hadn’t told Katie what was happening. No need to alarm the girl. Instead, she delivered a half-truth, saying she was on the way to meet with her old boss.

  “Don’t wait up. I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. But if you need anything, just call.”

  “No problem. Mind if I take another bubble bath?”

  Mal laughed. “So, you’ve come around?”

  “I may have come around.”

  “Take as many as you want. Hit room service if you need to feed yourself. Have them add it to my tab.”

  “Thanks! Can I also order a movie on TV?”

  “No problem. Just don’t stay up too late. And no porn.” She laughed. “Unless you want.”

  Mal felt weird giving a pregnant teenager a bedtime and telling her what she could or couldn’t watch. She hadn’t thought much about disciplining the girl or anything beyond helping her. But people who had no expectations for their kids raised undisciplined adults. Conversely, Katie had grown up in a home where she was overly governed by an abusive father. So, she rebelled, hard. Mal would find a balance. Still, it felt odd to do so right now, over the phone.

  “I want to make sure you’re rested for an awesome breakfast tomorrow morning.”

  Katie paused, like she could smell the bullshit. “Okay. I’m kinda tired, anyway. I probably won’t even watch a movie.”

  Mal arrived at the station, but instead of meeting her partner alone, she also found Barry and Ford waiting to accost her.

  Fuck me.

  Mal got out of her car and approached them.

  “Hand it over,” Barry said.

  “Hand what over?”

  “The killer’s phone,” Cameron answered. “You had no right to take it.”

  Mal ignored him and spoke to Barry. “He’ll only talk to me.”

  “You would do well to remember that you are on administrative leave, young lady. You are not authorized to speak on behalf of the sheriff’s office.”

  “I’m not here to speak on behalf of anyone. I’m here as a private citizen.”

  “You will not be going on the air tonight, Miss Black. That’s Cameron’s job. Now hand him the phone.”

  “The fuck I will,” Mal said, pushing past them.

  The sheriff reached out and grabbed Mal by the arm.

  She spun around, giving him a scornful enough glare that he let go immediately.

  But his demeanor didn’t change. “Go on the air and I’ll arrest you for interfering with an investigation.”

  Mal stared at the sheriff, then glanced at Cameron, who was smiling smugly, arms folded across his chest.

  “He said if I do not read his manifesto on the air, he will kill that toddler. You want a child’s death on your hands, Sheriff?”

  “What I do not want, what I will not do, is cave to terrorist demands. No way in hell are we reading that psycho’s manifesto.”

  “Then why are you even here? Why go on the air at all?”

  “To deliver a message that the Creek County Sheriff’s Office won’t bow to any demands.”

  “And you’re gonna have him as your representation of strength? Cameron Fucking Ford?” Mal laughed in the idiot blogger’s face.

  He stared at her red-faced, a glimmer of rage in his eyes.

  She laughed even harder, hoping he would hit her so she could put him on his ass.

  “With all due respect, Sheriff, I think Mal is right on this,” Mike finally said. “He’s already killed one child, shot another, and murdered that young woman. We have to take him at his word.”

  Sheriff Barry shook his head. “You’re a good detective, Mike. But you’re wrong on this. Cave in to one of these clowns and we’ll have copycats coming out of the woodworks. Then what? We going to read a manifesto on the air every time one of these jokers gets a hair up their ass? How many fucking manifestos are we going to read?”

  “A child will die, Sheriff. A toddler. Are you willing to have a child’s death on your hands?” Mal stared at him. “How do you think that’ll look in the next election?”

  “Better one toddler than a bunch of kids getting kidnapped,” Cameron answered. “Voters respect strength, not capitulation to threats. This’ll be a memory by the time the next election comes. Just like your career here, you fucking junkie.”

  Mal lost it. She swung and clocked Cameron in the jaw. He went down like a sack of shit.

  “Arrest her, Mike!” Barry yelled.

  Mike put his hands between Mal and the sheriff. “Let’s all just calm down.”

  “I want her arrested, now!”

  Mal stared at the sheriff, then turned to Mike, wondering if he was actually going to do it.

  “Come on, Mal. Let’s get you out of here.”

  “Are you seriously going to arrest me, Mike?”

  Cameron rubbed his jaw as he stood. “Goddamned right he is. And I’ll be pressing charges, you cunt. I will own you when this is all done.”

  Mal spun around and clocked him again.

  Mike grabbed Mal, dragging her back.

  “Well, at least I got my money’s worth” Mal laughed as Mike pulled her away. He put her in the back of his car then slammed the door.

  At least he hadn’t cuffed her.

  Mal kicked at the floorboard, screaming as Mike climbed into the driver’s seat. “FUCK HIM!”
>
  He met her gaze in the rearview, his eyes sad and disappointed. That hurt Mal more than anything the sheriff and Cameron Fucking Ford had done.

  Mike started driving.

  Mal kept her mouth shut, lest she say something regrettable. Or worse, cry from frustration. A horrible thought hit her like a slap to the ear.

  Katie. An arrest would surely impact her ability to adopt. Did that mean that Katie and her unborn child would be victims of the system?

  Another awful thought — would Cameron Ford sue her for everything? If so, how would she afford to help Katie?

  What did I do?

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

  “Why did you hit him?” Mike finally asked.

  “Because Cameron Ford is a piece of shit. How can you not hit him? That fucker doesn’t deserve to work for the sheriff’s office. Neither of them does. They’re total assholes.”

  “Sometimes it’s our job to work with assholes.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m done dealing with assholes. Tired of seeing assholes get rewarded with elections and lucrative gigs. What kind of self-respecting ‘journalist’ takes a job from the very sheriff he helped get elected? What kinda bullshit is that, Mike? Why do so many people sit by and watch the everlasting shit show that—”

  “What other options do we have, Mal? To check out? Give up? Some of us try to change things from within.”

  “Sorry, Mister Holier Than Thou, is that what you’re doing — changing it from within? How’s that workin’ out for ya’? And, by the way, the only reason I came back was to try and change it from within.”

  “And how’s that working out for you?”

  She looked in the rearview and saw a playful smile. Mike was busting her balls.

  “Relax. I’m not going to arrest you.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you home.”

  “And what happens when Sheriff Sphincter wants to know why I’m not locked up?”

  “I’ll tell him I refused, using officer’s discretion. If he wants to make it a deal, I’ll quit.”

  “You’ll what?”

  “I’ll quit.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Under the present circumstances, yes. Because despite your hot temper and reckless behavior, you’re a damned fine cop. One of the best. And I’m not the only one that thinks so.”