by Gail Caban
“Looks good, Ness. So, how long do you think our provisions will hold out?” Wyatt asked.
“We have about enough for two or three days. Fortunately, we can get water straight from the creek, but I think this is going to go down long before then. I’m going to get a few hours of shut-eye now, so you can sleep later on. I think it’s important that we sleep in shifts.”
“Yeah, that would be wise,” Wyatt said, grabbing the rifle and installing the scope onto it. Ness smiled at her brother—she was very glad that he didn’t listen to her earlier on and came with her.
25
Eddie pulled in at a small diner just outside of Chicago. He had gone through a lot of trouble the night before, but he eventually got what he wanted. Now, he was tired, he was hungry, and he was filling up with rage. Eddie knew that when he was like this and pushing himself so hard, it was far more difficult to control his emotions. Being volatile when you’re so prone to violence is dangerous. Because he wanted to stay out of trouble as best as he could, he opted to take a table close to the back of the diner and waited for the waitress to come over.
“What can I get ya darlin’?” The blonde—probably close to 40 years old—waitress asked with her notebook and pen in her hand. She chewed a piece of gum like a cow chews the cud, and the more Eddie watched, the more he wanted to take the pen she was holding and shove it through her eye. He took a deep breath.
“I’ll just have the breakfast special with a black coffee, thanks,” he said almost robotically.
“How would you like your eggs?” she chewed even louder. Eddie gritted his teeth and clenched so hard that his jaw hurt. “It doesn’t matter, just surprise me.”
“Okey dokey, darlin’.” She said and walked away.
“Fuck me: this is going to be much harder than I thought. Just keep it together Eddie. You have your targets. Don’t let anything distract you from your targets,” he whispered to himself.
“Hey faggot! Are you crazy or somethin’?” Why you out there talkin’ to yourself?” the overweight trucker shouted from his booth. Are you kidding me? Ignore him, Eddie. He’s not worth it. Just breathe.
“Hey faggot! I’m talkin’ to you,” the trucker shouted again, but Eddie just continued to stare at the table. The waitress brought Eddie his coffee and laid it on the table, “Pay no attention to him, darlin’. He’s a few quarters short of a jukebox if you catch my drift.”
“Thank you for the coffee.” Eddie said quietly. He took a sip of the bitter liquid, and it seemed to calm his senses fractionally.
“Now you’re disrespecting me by ignoring me, faggot?” the trucker said as he walked over to Eddie’s table, leaned over his coffee, and spat into it. Eddie’s jaw clenched, and he looked up and stared into the eyes of the neanderthal. “Sorry, I fall asleep with my eyes open sometimes. It’s a medical condition,” Eddie smiled.
“Whatever, faggot,” he said, walking toward the bathrooms at the back of the diner. Eddie scanned the place and there were no other patrons around, and the waitress was nowhere to be seen—probably stepped out for a smoke. “It’s like the universe is just willing you to die,” Eddie whispered as he watched the trucker go into the bathroom. Eddie rose from the table and followed him in.
The trucker was standing at the urinal, whistling as he relieved himself. Eddie walked up quietly behind him and forcefully pushed his head into the wall in front of him. The trucker’s head made a loud crack as it hit the tiled wall, and his forehead started gushing with blood. He collapsed to the floor with his penis flopping about. Eddie grabbed him by his thinning hair and put his throat against the washbasin—his chin provided enough grip to keep him in that position. Eddie walked behind him and kicked him powerfully in the back of the head. He could hear the crunch of his trachea fracturing. The trucker gawked like a dying fish as he tried to breath.
“Shhhhh . . . you’re dying. You might as well not fight it,” Eddie said, bending down and gripping his flailing arms. Even though the wound on his head was still gushing with blood, he could see that his face was turning blue underneath. The trucker collapsed to the floor, and his twitching body stopped moving.
Eddie stood up straight and took a deep breath—a sense of relief just washed over him. All of the tension and rage seemed to dissipate for a few fleeting moments. He looked down at the pathetic excuse of a corpse at his feet. Eddie winced—his knee was still in pain after Ness’ kick. He examined his knee and could feel there was underlying swelling and damage to the cartilage. He shook his head at the hindrance but was still impressed with her tenacity.
Eddie stopped pressing his knee and looked back at the trucker. He needed to get rid of the body. Eddie bent down and gripped the corpse beneath his armpits and dragged him into one of the stalls. Even though he weighed well over 300 pounds, Eddie still managed to easily manipulate him. He placed him on one of the toilets and leaned his head back so the remainder of the blood would drip onto the toilet and not onto the floor. He removed his phone, wallet, and keys from his jacket pockets. Eddie closed the door of the stall and used his pocketknife to lock it. he wiped down anything that he possibly touched and wiped the blood off the floor. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but once he left here, he would disappear for good. The waitress would barely remember him come the evening rush.
Eddie walked out of the bathroom and sat back down in his booth. The waitress was still busy somewhere, so he waited patiently now that he felt better. He looked around outside and wondered which truck was his and what possible items he might find inside. He smiled at himself.
A few minutes later, the waitress brought him his plate of food. “Fried eggs, sausage, bacon, mushrooms, beans, and french fries. I hope you like it!” she said as she started walking away.
“Oh, sorry.” Eddie piped up, making her turn around.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“Could I bother you for a fresh cup? A bug flew into this one and bugs kinda freak me out,” he said in a most charming manner.
“Sure thing,” the waitress smiled and grabbed his cup for him to get him a fresh one. Eddie started eating breakfast, and he was pleasantly surprised at the flavors. He devoured the eggs, bacon, and mushrooms, and then ate the french fries and beans afterward. He was completely stuffed by the time he made it to the sausages.
The waitress brought him his fresh cup of coffee. “There you go, darlin’,” she smiled broadly.
“Thank you. Would it be alright if I took the sausages with me? I’d love to eat them on the road,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Sure thing, I’ll just wrap those up for you,” she said and took the plate away with her. A few moments later she came back with his doggie bag.
“Thank you,” Eddie said, handing her a $50 bill. “Keep the change.”
“That’s mighty generous of you. Thank you, darlin’. I wish we had customers like you in here more regularly,” she smiled broadly. “No, you don’t.” Eddie laughed at his personal joke.
“By the way, have you seen the chubby guy that was harassing you a little while ago?” the waitress asked.
“I think he hit the crapper. He was complaining about indigestion on his way there.”
“Oh, best leave him to it then,” the waitress laughed. “Have a nice day darlin’ and travel safe.”
“I shall do so. Thank you for the wonderful meal.” Eddie smiled at her and walked out.
He walked straight to the trucker’s cab that he believed was his and unlocked the door. But Eddie was thrown back by a vicious German Shepherd. “Woah, boy. take it easy.” The hound continued to snarl at him. Eddie opened the bag with the sausages and held it higher for the dog above him to see, “Come on, boy. You hungry?”
The German Shepherd stopped growling and started drooling instead. He hopped out the cab and sat right in front of Eddie. Eddie held the sausage out to the dog who tentatively took it and then wolfed it down.
“Good boy. Here’s another one,” Eddie held out his hand, and the d
og took it gently from him. “How about you and I take a little trip?” Eddie smiled and called the dog into the backseat of his Contour. He started the car and started driving toward North Utica.
26
Eddie parked his car in a shady spot at North Utica’s Presbyterian Hospital and cracked a few windows before he climbed out of the car. “I’ll be back in a jiff,” he said to the German Shepherd, who was obviously used to being in a vehicle because he’d already passed out on the back seat.
Eddie climbed out of the vehicle and walked toward the main entrance. He wasn’t entirely sure which hospital Lindsay would have been brought to, but this one was nearest to their house. He walked through the front doors of the main entrance, and he could see that there were many people moving about, making it much easier to blend in, especially if Ness or Wyatt were around. He sat down in the waiting area and had an excellent view of the entire hallway. He noticed two police officers stationed outside one of the rooms.
Bingo, Eddie thought to himself.
Eddie quickly got up from his position and moved toward the supply closet. When the nurses at the reception desk were preoccupied, he quickly slipped inside in search of a disguise.
Perfect, Eddie said—he found clean scrubs on the shelves and looked for a pair that would fit. He donned the scrubs and left his clothes hidden behind one of the shelves. He exited the supply closet and walked down the hallway. He moved past the officers stationed at room 17. “Good morning officers,” he greeted them, and they greeted him in return. Eddie grabbed the chart that was outside the room and started reading through it. He strained his ears to listen in to the conversation.
“It’s only going to be for a few more days. The sheriff was worried about the murderer coming back into town and targeting the family. That’s why he’s not staying at the house and rather staying at the inn,” one of the officers said.
“I’m just going to quickly pop inside and check on her sutures. Is that alright?” Eddie asked politely before entering Lindsay’s room. “Of course, Doc.”
“Thanks,” Eddie walked in and stood at Lindsay’s bedside. He touched her hair gently.
“Oh, how easily I could end you and those idiots sitting out there. But I guess today is your lucky day,” he whispered closely to her ear, and she stirred slightly. Eddie moved away from her and looked back at the officers who were still having a heated discussion. Eddie placed the pawn underneath Lindsay’s pillow and then headed out the door: “Her sutures are looking good, so I’ll just leave her to rest.”
The officers just smiled and nodded at him as he went for the supply closet. He checked that no one saw him go in, and once he was inside, he quickly changed into his clothes that he had on before heading back to the car. Eddie pulled out his phone and Googled inns in the North Utica village. Three possibilities popped up, and he scribbled the numbers down on a piece of paper that he had in the car. He dialed the first number which belonged to the Lakeside Inn.
“Lakeside Inn, how can I assist you?” a sweet voice answered on the third ring.
“Good morning. Will you please connect me to Sherriff Elliott’s room? He told me to call there if I needed to get hold of him.”
“I’m sorry, Sheriff Elliott isn’t staying here.”
“Oh, my mistake. Have a nice day,” Eddie said as he hung up the phone. He dialed the second number which belonged to the Garden Inn.
A similar sounding voice answered the phone: “Garden Inn, thank you for calling. How can I help you?”
“Good morning. Will you please connect me to Sherriff Elliott’s room? He told me to call there if I needed to get hold of him.”
“Certainly Sir, and who might I tell him is calling?”
Eddie hung up, looked up the address, and drove straight for the Inn.
30 minutes later, Eddie pulled up and parked across the street from the Garden Inn. It was a pleasant looking place with nicely manicured gardens and fountains out front. It didn’t seem excessively large, so narrowing down where Heck Elliott was staying wouldn’t take too long. Eddie walked around the exterior of the building and was pleasantly surprised at how attractive it looked. Maybe I’ll come stay here for a little while when all of this is over, Eddie chuckled at the thought.
Eddie then moved toward the building and casually walked through the small reception. The receptionist was busy with a few customers, so she didn’t notice that he was intentionally avoiding coming to the desk. He slipped past and moved into the interior garden. There appeared to be 10 rooms, all on the ground floor of the building and all with large windows overlooking the interior garden. Eddie walked around in the garden and then he spotted a couple come out of the second room and a young man go into the seventh room. Two down. I’ll find you, Heck.
Then he saw the next room door open and out came Heck Elliott with his TV remote in his hand. He walked to the reception desk and was asking her a question while pointing at the remote. She smiled and nodded, and he went back to his room and shut the door. Eddie could see her pick up her phone and dial a number—most likely a cable repair guy. Eddie wasn’t going to forgo this opportunity and he walked straight to Heck Elliott’s room and knocked on the door. Heck opened it and saw Eddie standing there.
“Can I help you?” Heck asked with a very suspicious tone.
“I’m here to help you with your TV,” Eddie said calmly.
“Jeez, that was fast,” Heck said, moving out of the way for Eddie to come inside.
“I was in the area, and I’d just finished on another call, so I guess your timing was perfect,” Eddie laughed. “What’s the problem?”
“The TV is fuzzy, and the remote keeps jamming. Will you have a look at it?” Heck gave him the remote, and Eddie pulled out his pocketknife. He started undoing the screws and then he manipulated the buttons beneath.
“Try it now,” Eddie said, handing him the remote. Heck tried it and it worked perfectly.
“That’s awesome. Thanks.”
“Now for the fuzziness,” Eddie said and donned latex gloves that were in his pocket.
“Why are you putting on gloves?” Heck suddenly seemed on edge.
“Hmmmm? Oh!” Eddie laughed as he looked at his hands. “No, I put these on before I fiddle with HDMI cables because any oil that you have on your fingertips can greatly affect the connectivity of the metal points in the cable itself, so I choose to wear gloves to keep the cables working optimally.”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know that.”
“Well, it is my job,” Eddie laughed and climbed up on a chair to get behind the wall-mounted TV. “Yeah, it appears that the HDMI cable is a bit loose,” he pulled it out, wiped the cable with his gloved fingers, and pushed it back into its port. “Try the TV now,” Eddie said, hopping down off the chair.
“The picture is perfect. Man, maybe the gloves thing really does work,” Heck laughed and turned back to the TV. Eddie went for the opportunity and punched straight for his jaw. The punch was expertly placed and exceptionally rapid—Heck went down and hit the ground hard. Eddie moved behind him and removed a thin metal cord from his jacket pocket, looping it around Heck’s neck. Eddie twisted the wooden handle that was connected to the cord, and he placed his knee into Heck’s back as he leaned backward. The metal cord tore into Heck’s flesh, and his shirt was quickly becoming soaked with blood. The more Heck fought, the deeper the cord cut. Eddie continued to pull on the cord until Heck’s arms and shoulders went limp. Eddie removed the cord from around Heck’s throat, and his body fell forward with a loud thump as it hit the carpet. Eddie walked to the bathroom and washed the cord before returning it to his pocket. He pulled out a black pawn and left it on the dresser. Eddie then wiped the remote down for any fingerprints he left behind, and he opened the door slightly. Once the coast was clear, he exited the room and locked the door. He took his gloves off and hid them in his pocket as he walked past the reception desk and back into this car. The dog was still snoring on the backseat when Eddie returned.
27
Eddie pulled into a motel off the interstate just outside of North Utica, and he knew that he needed some time to get some rest in. He was up for the whole night, and now he’d already killed two people. He got the key for his motel room and requested one on the ground floor so he could easily sneak the dog into the room with him—he was more than aware that dogs weren’t allowed in this motel, but he was too tired to care.
He looked around to ensure that no one was looking, and he walked into the motel room with his new canine friend at his side. “Well, this is disgusting,” Eddie commented as he made a face. “It seems that the interior decorator decided to go for 50 shades of poop.” He shook his head, closed the room door, and sat down on the edge of the bed. The German Shepherd decided to find a spot to lay down.
“Good boy,” he petted the dog’s head. “I wonder what your name would be. Well, you were owned by a simpleton, so it was probably something with a single syllable,” He shifted on the bed and looked at the dog. “Hmmmm . . . Max?” The German Shepherd’s ears perked up, and he tilted his head. “Well that was easy enough. Alright, Max, I’m going to get some shut-eye. Wake me if someone comes,” Eddie giggled and fell asleep.
A couple of hours later, Eddie woke up and was slightly confused to where he was. He looked around and then remembered: Oh yeah, the shitty motel room. He sat up and peered at Max lying on the floor next to him, who was panting away with his ears perked up. Eddie stretched and stood up from the bed.
“Are you hungry, boy?” Eddie asked, and immediately, Max got excited. “Alright, let’s go find a place to grab some food.” They left the hotel room, and Eddie turned in the key. Even though he paid for a whole day, he had to keep moving.
