Drop Dead (Tess Skye Book 1)

by D. N. Erikson

  “Yeah, I know.” I shake my arms out to loosen up, but the jiggling causes searing pain in my borrowed chest, so I stop. “Javy’s in the basement.”

  “That place has a basement?”

  “Whatever the fuck you want to call it.” I put a lid on Thurmond’s temper as it starts to boil again. “Can you feel me?”

  Finn looks deep into my eyes. “Every day of my life.”

  “Let’s get the real me in the car, then, Casanova.”

  He shivers, despite the pleasant weather. “That sounds fucking weird coming out of his mouth.”

  “Today’s a weird day, what can I say.”

  I drag myself over to my cross-legged actual body, which sits on the grass wearing a vacant stare. They talk about out of body experiences, but this is next level.

  “I can do it myself,” Finn says.

  “Yeah, it’s my body. I’ll help.” When we lift, it feels like Thurmond’s insides are literally tearing apart. Blood soaks the shirt by the time we have Tess—me—in the back seat. But I survive and collapse next to my idle actual body.

  Finn gets in the Benz’s front seat. It glides along the road, and in five minutes, we’re pulling into the dam’s sparsely populated parking lot.

  I recognize Mathias’s car—with an obnoxious racing stripe painted along the side—among the more modest family minivans and ten-year-old sedans belonging to the engineers and maintenance managers.

  I give him a call with Thurmond’s phone.

  “Yo, T,” he answers. “What’s going on, dog?”

  “You at the dam?”

  “Yeah, got this boring ass shit detail. Gonna miss the fucking party.”

  “I hear you,” I say. “Just got handed neveria duty myself.”

  “What? Boss man didn’t tell me.”

  “Yeah, he’s busy with the announcement tonight. It’s gonna be a banger.”

  “You fucking with me, T?”

  “Nah. I’m pissed as hell about it.” I pause, then add, “But I hope that bitch breaks her word.”

  “Why?”

  “Then I can dump that shit in the water.”

  “You’re a goddamn animal,” Mathias says. “Just give me a heads up so I don’t die with the rest of these assholes.”

  “You got it, man. Meet you at your ride in five.”

  He says, “I’m not supposed to leave the post.”

  “Come on man, shit, it’s me. I saw a couple ladies arriving for tonight already. You wanna keep wasting time down in that concrete prison then you do you man. But you get over there five minutes sooner and you might get in there before Carl starts spittin’ at them.”

  “Fucking Carl,” he says. “Looks like he’s in a boy band.”

  “Clock’s ticking.”

  Mathias sighs. “All right, I ain’t about that shit. Be up in two.”

  The call ends.

  Finn looks at me in the rearview and asks, “Good to go?”

  “Yeah.” I reach into my pockets—on my actual body—and pull out the ward-breakers.

  “I got your back if anything goes wrong.”

  “This jackass won’t know what hit him,” I say. With significant effort, I drag myself out of the back seat and start limping toward Mathias’s car. It’s only thirty yards away, but it might as well be three miles.

  Finn calls out the window, “Just listen to my voice if you start losing the thread.”

  “Sure thing.” I stop in the middle of the parking lot. “And Finn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Make sure you keep an eye on me back there. I want my body back in mint fuckin’ condition when this is all through.”

  Then I steel myself for the task ahead and keep walking as Finn drives away.

  Twenty-Eight

  “Damn, dog, you look like shit,” Mathias calls out from across the lot. He’s about what you’d expect from a stereotypical gun-for-hire: massive arms covered in ink, crew cut, shoulders that block out the sun because they’re so wide.

  I’m leaning against his flame-painted ride. “Bitch caught me in the ribs with a couple cheap shots. Broke one of them, I think.”

  “You let her go after that?” Mathias whistles. “I’d have put her down right there.”

  “Yeah, then the boss man would put you down.”

  “Might be worth it. She’s been nothing but trouble.” Mathias stops a few feet away. “You change your shirt from earlier? You’re always saying black is too damn hot to wear.”

  My insides flip over. Of course this meathead’s gotta play Sherlock Holmes.

  “Well, I was going to a party, asshole.”

  He lets out a rumbling laugh. “Have fun jerkin’ off alone down there.”

  “Maybe I do it in the water,” I say. “Just for you.”

  Mathias steps forward and socks me in the shoulder—it’s supposed to be friendly, but it’s pretty damn hard. I buckle to one knee and sharply exhale.

  “Shit, what’d that bitch do to you?”

  “This.” I summon up some of my last remaining energy and jam the knife right in his throat.

  He’s dead instantly. His head glances off the side mirror before he crumples to the asphalt.

  I’ll say this about Thurmond: total psycho, but he knows how to kill a man. The muscle memory kicked in seamlessly. I yank the blade out, wipe it clean, then pat Mathias down. The neveria extract is in his front pocket. It’s in a thick foil pouch with a tight seal.

  I handle it very carefully, make sure there’s nothing else in his pockets, then text Finn going in. Be ready in ten.

  Right after I shoot off the text, my phone buzzes. It’s Dom.

  “Yes, sir?” I answer.

  “Where are you, Thurmond?”

  “I’m waiting for Tess down by the gatehouse.”

  “Miss Skye hasn’t arrived yet?” Rillo sounds annoyed.

  “MIA, right now, sir. But I’ll keep waiting.”

  “Alert me the minute she arrives.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The call ends. I smirk and think yeah, I’ll be arriving soon enough, asshole.

  Then I head into the dam.

  After today’s events, I’m expecting some sort of massive resistance. But the dam workers barely give me a second glance as I enter the facility. Security doesn’t even ask for ID. Took more goddamn effort to get in here back when Javy and I came with our actual police badges. Clearance, talking with supervisors, all sorts of protocols.

  Just goes to show they recognize Rillo’s guys. Probably have no idea what they’re really doing there—but they’ve been paid or threatened into not asking any questions.

  I find the bombs hidden on the structural supports. Nice thing about being Thurmond is he knows the disarm codes. I first insert the ward-breakers into a little slot on top. A puff of purple magical smoke drifts into the air to indicate that the fail-safes have been dispelled. Then I enter the codes and remove the bombs, going down the line until they’re all disarmed.

  It’s all smooth. A year in the making, and it takes mere minutes to clean it all up.

  After the last one, I’m feeling pretty good. No one even gives me a second look as I carry a stack of bombs outside. They’re not about to incur Rillo’s wrath.

  I head out into the blue sky outdoors, and Finn is waiting there in the car.

  Everything is perfect.

  Walking isn’t even super painful.

  Then he gets out of the car, holding Tess’s—my—cracked phone up.

  “He just called, Tess.”

  “Who?”

  “Dom.”

  “What’d he want?”

  Finn stares at the horizon beyond me. “It’s about Javy.”

  “What about Javy?”

  “Dom—he says you didn’t fulfill your end of the bargain.” Finn sucks in a deep breath and finally looks down at me. “So he…”

  “Spit it the fuck out, man.” Thurmond’s personality explodes from the shadows.

  Or maybe it’s me,
because I can sense what’s coming next.

  “Javy’s dead.”

  Everything goes blank. Sound shuts off. I walk stiffly forward, emotions shut off.

  “All right, let me put these down.” I set the bombs gingerly into the trunk. Take the neveria extract out and place it carefully beside them.

  Then I collapse in a heap.

  Twenty-Nine

  “Hey.” Finn is gently pushing on my shoulder.

  It feels like being stabbed by a knife.

  “Quit doing that shit.” My eyes snap open. I’m staring straight at the cloudless sky.

  And I’m still, somehow, in Thurmond’s body. I can almost feel it disintegrating around me.

  The sensation is hardly pleasant.

  “I’m sorry about Javy,” Finn says.

  I brush his hand away and try to sit up. The energy just isn’t there. “Help me up.”

  “You should let this body go, Tess. We have what we need. The bombs, the blood sample, it’s enough—”

  “Help me up, damnit.”

  Finn dutifully props me up against the car’s bumper. “What’s next?”

  “What’d Dom say?”

  “Like I told you. You were late, that’s not the terms, punishment, the town was next, all that shit. You know how he is.”

  I grind my teeth and say, “I do.”

  What if I’d said something different on the phone call? Played it better?

  That’s the thing about what-ifs—they’re corrosive, eating away at your psyche like battery acid, until there’s nothing left but a rusted-out shell of a person.

  Which is why I know one thing: I’m sure as shit not done. I may have failed Javy, but I’m not going to let Rillo get away with it.

  I’m going to finish this.

  “Get the blood vial from my pants,” I say.

  “What are you thinking, Tess?”

  “You know exactly what I’m thinking.”

  “We have enough to get them all. It’s over.”

  “It’s over when I say it’s over.” I try to stand up to prove my point, but it’s a futile gesture. “Get the blood.”

  “Tess—”

  “You get the blood, or I’m walking into Rillo’s damn house the minute I wake up as me.” I flash a wolf-like smile. “Think of it like this. My way gives us two bites at the apple, right? Maybe three if we count the cops potentially arresting him if we fuck everything up.”

  Finn throws his hands up. “Fine.” He retrieves the blood vial from my pocket in the back seat, then returns and unscrews the cap.

  He stops short, however, of giving it to me.

  “You gonna give it to me, or you just gonna stand there?”

  “This isn’t a good idea, Tess.”

  “Noted.” I open my mouth, unable to lift Thurmond’s arms any longer.

  Finn pours the Vitalysm-laced blood into my mouth.

  I can feel the effects almost immediately. It’s like a good night’s sleep, shower, painkiller, and amphetamine all in one.

  I test things by raising my arm.

  Still horrible pain.

  But I can move again.

  Finn helps me to my feet, looking concerned. “You don’t need to do this. The cops can get him.”

  “I am the police.” I lurch into the back seat. “And judge, jury, and—”

  “Yeah, I got it.” Finn doesn’t need to hear more. He slams the back door and gets into the driver’s seat. Looks at me in the rearview. “I’ll be here as your tether.”

  “Then let’s go kill this son of a bitch.”

  Finn parks around the corner, out of view from the gatehouse. I get out. We share a knowing look.

  “Anyone shows up, run,” I say. “Or shoot them. Just get the evidence to the authorities.”

  “Understood,” he says.

  Then I start dragging myself toward the lake house.

  I’ve made my choice.

  I’ll have to live with it.

  The gatehouse, like the one at Rillo’s other Ragnarok estate, has a retinal scanner. In Thurmond’s body, I pass with flying colors. I step inside and set the gate to remain open in case I can’t finish the job in Thurmond’s body. The house itself is built overhanging the lake, with the supports actually within the water.

  It’s an audacious piece of architecture, perched directly beneath the dam. It’d have been the first place to be wiped from existence had Rillo’s bombs ever gone off. That’s no longer a threat, but it’s not like he’d have been around to swim through the wreckage, anyway. His lackeys would be the ones gasping as the water filled their lungs.

  The crystal blue lake’s surface shimmers. It’s manmade, created by the damming and levee system, fed by the Rok River.

  I shield my eyes from the glare off the glass lake house, then quickly abandon the idea. Raising my arm still feels like a tiny arm of swordsmen are slashing at my intestines.

  I try to remain upright as I approach the wooden bridge that leads to the house proper. The Vitalysm has done its job to get me this far, but the effects can only last so long. Especially in such a tiny dose.

  The glass doors open, sunlight glinting off the perfectly clean surface.

  The man himself emerges.

  Dominic Rillo’s bald head gleams. He’s wearing a cardigan and different pants after the earlier scuffle. I take solace in imagining that the reason is because he actually pooped himself when under the actual threat of death.

  That’s the way most dictators are. Total cowards, lashing out like children at a world none of us can control.

  “You’re rather late, Thurmond.”

  “She just showed up,” I say.

  “I told her ten minutes,” he says. “And it cost her.”

  I want to say it’ll cost you, but instead I go with, “It should.” Fifty feet still separate us.

  Only have to hold it together a little longer.

  “Did she at least deliver what she promised?”

  “Got it for you, sir.” It takes all my concentration not to wince as I walk. My vision swims.

  I hear in my ear, steady, now, Tess. It’s weird, knowing Finn can somehow feel some of it. Understand part of what I’m going through.

  Rillo stops midway across the bridge. “The sunset will be beautiful tonight for the announcement. A perfect backdrop.”

  I rack Thurmond’s memories and soul for what he’d say. Because my inclination is to tell him to jam his sunset and announcement right up his ass.

  Rillo glances over when I don’t reply. “Everything okay, Thurmond?”

  “Yes, sir.” I grunt the words. “Perfect for a party.”

  “That depends, of course, on whether our associate Miss Skye gave you both things she promised?”

  I want to scream I’m not your associate, but I just answer, “Of course, sir.”

  “Good.” Rillo nods. “Let me see them.”

  “Absolutely.” Fifteen feet.

  Ten.

  Rillo raises an eyebrow. “You’re out of uniform, Thurmond.”

  Not this shit again. “Trying to look good for the party tonight, sir.”

  “Stop.”

  I keep walking. He’s too close to stop now. “I have what you need, sir.” I reach for the knife.

  Rillo pulls a tiny pistol from his cardigan’s front pocket and shoots me in the chest. “I told you to stop.”

  My vision darkens at the edges. I drop to my knees. I might have two seconds; I might have two minutes. It’s hard to know. But this body feels like it’s held together by popsicle sticks.

  “Sir,” I gasp, still somehow on my knees. I release my grip on the knife and try to stand. “I was just trying to give you the ward-breakers. And her blood.”

  He laughs. There’s no joy in it. “I didn’t think she’d actually bring them.”

  No apology for shooting me.

  That’s fine. Apologies from sociopaths are overrated, anyway.

  I just need him to get a little closer.


  The tiny pistol is still pointed at me. I take in a deep, gulping breath, and say, “I’m going to reach into my pocket. I have them.”

  “Place them on the bridge.”

  With great effort, I reach into my pocket. I have nothing, but I come out with my fist clenched tightly.

  I lean forward on the bridge on my fists, gasping for air, staring at the wooden planks.

  “Put them down in front of you.”

  “I—just, sir, you shot me. I need a moment.”

  I’m hoping that Dom wants the ward-breakers and blood so badly that they’ll override the cautious part of his mind.

  All the analysis.

  And that he’ll come down and take them from me.

  I concentrate on a swirl in the wood and maintain a blank expression.

  But inside, my guts are churning.

  And it’s not from the stab wound or gunshot.

  It’s anticipation.

  Finally, Rillo says in a huff, “Just give me the goddamn things.”

  He takes a couple steps over and leans down.

  Just a foot away.

  I use the last burst of energy I have to throw myself at his knees.

  The gun goes off, another bullet lodging itself in Thurmond’s already ruined body. I land on top of him.

  He looks into my eyes as we grapple. “Tess.”

  “Surprise, motherfucker.”

  We roll on the bridge, battling for position, his cardigan soaking up blood like a sponge. He fires again, this shot sailing harmlessly into the perfect sky. I slam his arm down, and the gun clatters away.

  He kicks at me, slipping from my grasp because of the blood.

  Scrambles for the gun.

  I grab his neck and get him in a chokehold.

  Rillo gurgles and thrashes his legs.

  I hold tight, but I can feel it slipping.

  We’re not far from the edge of the bridge. The calm water beckons below us, clear all the way to the bottom.

  I hook my arms tight and roll over. It feels like raking my torso over hot coals.

  Then I do it again and we tumble into the water.

  He unleashes a terrified scream as we sink, bubbles streaming to the top with most of his remaining precious bits of oxygen.

  Rillo wiggles and catches me with an elbow in the jaw.