“She didn’t tell you before that?” I’m losing myself in this conversation, forgetting what’s lurking around the other side of this basement. I’m not sure why he thinks he owes me this explanation. But even though most of the other people in the basement have forgotten how to feel human, I still feel human. I still feel pain from losing my husband two days ago. I feel for Jacko and his wife.
“She didn’t want to tell me, in fear of me losing my train of thought while fighting over seas. Here she was at home, fighting her own battle, and she was left with no camaraderie except for our two small children who were depending on her for everything.”
A tear trickles from my eye. I didn’t mean to let it fall, but I feel every word that’s scraping against his throat. “I’m so sorry.” Sorry doesn’t make anything better. It’s just a word to fill the space of a loss of words.
“It was that moment that I saw her, that I made a promise to do whatever it took to help her. The treatments she needs are very expensive. I’d kill for her. I’d take a bullet for her, but the bullet is cancer in this case. So, the best I can do is buy her the best medical treatment possible. That is why I’m working for this psycho. Not because I enjoy hurting other people. I’ve already had my fair share of that.” My heart cracks down the middle. For whatever reason, Alex died for me. And Jacko is trying to save his wife, the same way Alex tried to save me. I understand more than he probably thinks I do.
“I understand,” I say.
“I need to know I’m not in danger right now. I can’t leave my wife alone, not now. Not knowing she probably doesn’t have much longer to live.” His Adam’s apple bobs around on his throat as his eyes study mine for some kind of reassuring response that I definitely can’t give him. “Everything was dormant with Franco up until today. I was going to quit in two weeks. I would have had enough money then. But today, you came along and suddenly the simple task of being Franco’s behind the scene entourage, turned into God knows what’s about to happen.”
Jacko wants to know if he is danger right now? I feel sorry for him not knowing who he has been working for and dealing with. “You’ve been working for a serial killer for however long, and now you are worried about your well-being?” I understand the money, but with killing people, there kind of comes danger. What was he expecting?
He doesn’t have a smartass remark to come back with. His eyes show fear, and the number of breaths he’s taking have quickened. “Yes,” he says, looking down to his feet.
His answer makes me feel sorry for him. Maybe it’s because I’m a parent too. Maybe it’s because I never thought about what I would do for money to support my family. But when I think of it like that, Alex killed himself to keep Sammy and me safe. Alex went that far to protect his family.
“He will kill whoever and whatever gets in his way,” I say to Jacko. His eyes flutter in response. “Since we’re being honest with each other, I think you should know that if Franco actually has his way with this locket, bad things will happen to him, you, and me. The locket belongs to me, and I’m the only one who will make good with it.” I can’t believe I’m telling him this. It doesn’t even make sense. To him, it’s a necklace. That’s it. “If Franco acquires the locket into his possession, you will die. It’s referred to as, ‘The Necklace of Death’ for a reason, I’m sure.”
“’The Necklace of Death’?” he asks.
“Look it up if you don’t believe me,” I say. But I think that’s all I needed to say. I can see he believes me. “Help me get the locket. It will keep you and your family safe.” I’m scaring myself with how well I’ve taken control over this situation. I feel as though I’m making progress with the unattainable.
He nods his head with understanding and agreement. “Follow my lead,” he says.
He grips his hand back around my arms and pulls me back out to where everyone else is standing. “Chloe won’t be speaking about you like that again. He flings me around a bit. “Will she?” His eyes glower into mine as he pushes me across the room.
I don’t fall, but I bounce off of the wooden railing. I give a phony angered look toward Jacko, and look down at the floor.
“Sir, how should we handle this?” Jacko says to Franco.
“The attic,” he says, without thinking for long.
“The attic, sir?” John asks.
“Let’s go,” Franco says.
“Don’t go up there,” my mother cries. “You know what will happen.”
“I know.” Franco smiles, then winks. “Let’s go.” He waves on the guys and me.
I look over at my mother to gauge her reaction. She looks sick and horrified, as if Franco is about to release some demon. And he might.
Her screams follow me, Franco, and the three men up the stairs and into the kitchen. Franco seems familiar with the house, more so than I am. I follow him up the stairs and into my parents’ bedroom. This isn’t an attic though.
“I don’t think you’re going to find what you’re looking for in their room, Franco,” I say.
“It’s not in here, love.” He lets out a condescending chuckle. He continues into the small master bathroom and removes the light fixture from the ceiling. He places the light down carefully onto the sink base and looks back up to where the fixture was hanging. He removes a metal cylinder and places that down on the sink as well. A string falls from the ceiling and dangles over his head. He yanks on it, and the ceiling pulls apart, creating an opening large enough to fit through. I always thought my parents had been too lazy to replace the light bulb, and now I realize it was because there had never been any wires, it was just a false light to hide the attic entrance.
He reaches into the hole and pulls down a wooden ladder. I lived here for nineteen years, and I never knew there was an attic in this house. A flash of hope surges through me. If the locket is here in this house, it will most certainly be up there.
“Follow me,” Franco says. He steadies the ladder and climbs up into the black hole. I see a faint glow flicker from within the darkness. I look at Jacko and he motions me to go up first.
There is no fear left within me. I’m determined. I climb up the old ladder and pull myself up and onto the wood paneling. Dust mists through the air and I wave it away for clarity. It looks like any old attic: boxes lined against the walls, old furniture parts, and clown puppets. Yup, those belong in an attic. I don’t even want to know. What I do know is that there are a lot of boxes to look through.
Franco walks toward the attic window like a zombie moving toward flesh. He takes a sharp left turn and disappears behind the boxes. Jacko, John, and Tony stand behind me, watching Franco’s odd behavior, as well. I look back at them and Jacko shrugs his shoulders before brushing by me.
“What the hell, man?” Jacko recoils. He’s standing next to the boxes Franco disappeared behind, and I can’t imagine what the issue is now. “Guys, you might want to take a look at this.” Jacko’s skin flushes slightly as he examines whatever it is he’s looking at.
I rush ahead of the other two and meet Jacko at his side. Sadly, I already know exactly what I’m looking at. I’ve put all the pieces together very quickly.
Franco has stripped down to his underwear and socks. His legs are folded into his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around his knees. He rocks back and forth. Back and forth. His eyes are stale and his mouth is gaping open.
“This isn’t Franco,” I say.
Jacko pulls me backward toward the opposite wall. “Who the hell is it then?”
I shrug. “Simon.” It’s so obvious to me. I feel like I’ve come full circle now. I’ve met all four of the creatures that live within my uncle’s mind.
“Simon?” he asks.
“The mute personality.”
“But how? Why? What the hell just made him turn into Simon?”
“I don’t know. I’m assuming the attic. I know he was locked up here most of his life. It probably has some kind of effect on him.” I walk back over to Simon and kick him in the
shin. No reaction. “I’m not sure what he thought would happen when he came up here. Unless, he’s unaware of what happens when he does come up here.”
“Chloe, you aren’t making much sense,” Jacko says.
“Not to you. But I understand very well what is happening. I also understand that I have free rein to look through all of these boxes to find what I’m looking for.” I turn around to face the three of them. “So. Are you going to help me, or him?” I raise my eyebrows.
John steps forward. “Are you paying us now?”
“No.”
“Then, hell no. We’re not helping you. We’re out of here. Let’s go, guys,” John says.
Jacko looks at me for a long second before moving his eyes to the others. “I think we should help her first.”
“Dude. Come on. This is bull,” Tony says in his thick Italian accent. “Franco isn’t going to be in this state permanently. What do you think he’s going to do when he finds out you left him here like this?” He shoves a box across the floor with the toe of his black shoe.
“Regardless of what we do right now, you don’t think he’ll spare your life, do you?” Jacko says to Tony and laughs. “Help her, and then we’ll get him out of here.”
“What exactly are we helping you with,” John asks me.
“Help me find the locket,” I say. I don’t think any further explanation is necessary right now. I should definitely keep things on as-need-to-know basis.
“So, let me get this straight,” Tony says with a sarcastic laugh. “We’re going to help you find the locket and then save Franco from his demented mind, so he comes back to realize that we just helped you steal the item he’s been after?”
“Exactly,” I say. Yes. I’m precisely asking you to give up your life for mine. I’m acting like Franco now.
“What the hell is in this for us?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Your life,” I say, stating it as if it’s a simple fact of life and death. Which in my particular case, it probably is, except Alex is making it look like it’s the death part I’m chasing.
Tony and John look at Jacko. “Dude. What is she talking about? Is this chick nuts, or what?” They’re pissing me off, but I know Jacko understands the importance of helping me. I’m going to let this play out.
“We’re helping her. That’s it. Start pulling boxes down and look for the locket,” Jacko says. They seem to obey him. Maybe Jacko is the leader of this blue suit pack. I should only be so lucky that they listen so easily.
I brush past them and approach the first stack of boxes. I pull the first one down and rip it open: pictures, letters, playing cards, and drawings. Nothing in here. I pull the second box down and rip it open. Clothes.
Frustration boils my blood. There are at least a hundred or more boxes here. This is going to take forever, and I hope Simon is a semi-permanent fixture for the time being. The guys appear to be busting through the boxes quicker than I am. I grab the next column of boxes and rip each one open. More clothes, more letters, and more pictures. There has to be something here, somewhere.
Under the window near Simon, there’s a small cardboard box. The sight of it gives me hope or maybe just a feeling. I move over to it, and I glance at Simon before opening it. He’s staring at me, smiling. So freaking creepy. “Franco?” I whisper, wondering if he’s changed back and he’s about to attack me. No response. He begins rocking back and forth from his bottom to his feet. Smiling. Just smiling. The hairs on my arms stand at attention. My subconscious is screaming at me to get the hell out of here. However, I’m starting to wonder if my subconscious even exists anymore.
My hands tremble as I pull the flaps of the box open. A wooden jewelry box is the only item that sits within the cardboard panels. Another surge of hope burns through my insides. I lift it out of the box and fall back on my butt. I run my fingers over the smooth wooden finish and place my finger between the slits. I push it open, and the box whines as it creeks apart. My heart stops beating, and my breath catches in my throat. Coldness covers my skin, and my fingertips tingle with an electric force.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
THE LOCKET
I REACH IN and tangle the chain around my fingers. The gold is warm and melts into my skin. Beneath the necklace is a switchblade. I’m not sure why these two items would be placed together in a box, but that answer is not of concern to me now that I found what I’ve been seeking.
I push myself up on my knees and twist my body away from Simon. His frozen grin is making me uncomfortable. I wonder if Franco is there somewhere in his head. I wonder if his eyes are sending a message to the part of his brain that isn’t working properly right now. I wonder if he knows what I’m doing—watching it happen. His own head is the padded cell surrounding his brain. And I hope he can comprehend what I’m doing. It would be the perfect payback for the torture he’s put me through in the past five years of my life.
I pull in another breath, trying to push the thought of Franco’s anger to the back of my head. I peel the two hearts away from each other, and I see the same familiar picture again: an elderly couple standing in front of the rock in the Catacombs. The elderly couple looks familiar to me still. The man has blue eyes. Wait. I know those blue eyes. The woman has green eyes. My green eyes.
Comprehension overwhelms me. I place my finger over the picture and I feel its uneven curve. It feels as though something is beneath the photo.
I press my thumb against the picture and slide it to the right. Something falls into my lap. When my fingers glide over it, I know what it is. A pill. Another fucking pill.
But for what?
I place it in my jacket pocket. I lift the picture from the edge of the necklace and flip it over. August 22, 2064 is written along the edge. Under it, it says: To second chances.
My pulse rings loudly in my ears. To second chances? For me? For Alex? What about Sammy?
The notebook. It has to say in there.
But Alex said he didn’t know what was inside the locket.
I need to think.
I need more time.
I need to get the hell out of here.
I slide the picture back into the locket and place it in my pocket. “Guys, I don’t think it’s here.” They’ve gone through nearly all of the boxes on the other side of the attic and I can see they agree. Tony and John, anyway. Jacko has his eyes set on me. He knows.
“Yeah, sorry, hon. I don’t know what to tell you,” Tony says. He sounds friendlier all of the sudden. Maybe it’s because he thinks I’m letting him off the hook. He can think that. Turns out, I didn’t need them after all.
It’s ironic that Franco led himself to his own demise. And I have to believe that finding the locket will save my life. Is that what this was all about? A fight for my life or Franco’s. This is his fault.
I shrug. “You win some, you lose some.” I try to hide my grin. “What are we going to do about him?” I point to Simon.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a little time off,” John says. “I think he’ll be okay up here for a bit.”
I don’t know the triggers that would cause Simon to turn back to Franco, Tomas, or James. I don’t know if this attic holds him in a sedative state. There’s no logic behind it. But I’m not going to question it. I have the locket. I have the opportunity to escape. I have the supposed key to Alex.
Jacko shrugs and Tony doesn’t hesitate before walking back to the attic opening. I look at Simon once more. He’s now leaning up against the wall. His eyes are set on the ceiling. My feelings on his current state are unresolved. But they quickly resolve. The screwed up pieces in my mind slide together in perfect form.
I lean over to the wooden box and retrieve the switchblade. Franco/Simon’s eyes are still set on the ceiling, playing whatever game his mind is telling him to play. He slouches back down to the ground and his head falls between his knees. What the hell? He must be teetering between personalities.
I take small careful
steps over to him, my eyes blazing with my intent. My heart is thumping so hard I can barely breathe.
This is the answer.
This has always been the answer. I have to kill the demon in my head.
It’s him or me.
It’s going to be me.
As my shadow hovers over Franco, I crouch down into a squat. My veins are pulsating with adrenaline. With anger and rage. This asshole has ruined my life. I move the switchblade to his neck. I push the tip of it into his flesh and I feel a pop when the blade slips in. His skin cuts like poultry and it’s satisfying.
“I. Win.”
I watch his Adam’s apple move down into the crook of his neck. His skin tightens around his face. He’s in there. He knows what’s happening right now. This makes me happy. A crazy kind of happy. My hand isn’t trembling anymore. My hand is strong and knows its capability. It’s him or me.
I grit my teeth together and press the knife further into his neck. I create a straight line from one side to the other, watching the blood seep from the perfect slice. I laugh a little. “Bye-bye, Uncle James. Now you’ve gotten your wish. You will no longer ruin anyone’s life.” I fall backward and drop the knife. I sit watching the pink color of his skin morph into white, and his lips freeze over with a blue hue.
I stare him in his dead eyes. That’s for Kiera’s mother. That’s for taking some of my precious time away from Alex. That’s for destroying the person my mother used to be. You have single handedly ruined so many people’s lives. But, dear uncle, you will not ruin mine.
“Chloe?” Jacko’s voice hollers from below the attic. I can’t pull my eyes away from what I’ve done. I’ve committed a murder, and it feels so damn good.
The sounds of footsteps grow behind me, snapping me out of my daze. A hand over my shoulder squeezes tightly. I look up into Jacko’s face. His veins bulge around his neck and on the sides of his forehead. He pulls me up by my elbow and spins me around to face him.
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