He clapped his palm down on the brand.
It was hot, nearly burning his hand. He felt the raised pattern beneath his palm. He made a fist, trying to grab at the brand.
Beneath him, Sam winced. He bucked his hips trying to throw Jack from him. But Jack was small and wiry, not able to be bucked off so easily.
Jack pulled his hand away from Sam’s arm.
And the brand was gone.
He held his own hand out in front of him.
He opened it, looking down into the palm.
The brand was there. Part of Sam’s flesh lay in the palm of his hand.
Sam no longer bucked beneath him.
Slowly, Jack got off him, collapsing on the couch.
Sam continued to lie in the middle of the floor, taking long deep breaths. His left arm sprawled limply beside his head. There was a rectangular absence of skin where the brand once was. Blood flowed freely from it.
Sam’s eyes were closed.
“What the fuck was that?” he said.
“I don’t know,” Jack said.
“Jesus, I wanted to kill you.”
“You don’t want to kill me anymore?”
“No. You’re Jack. Why’d I want to kill you?”
“I don’t know. Why did you want to kill me?”
“The pain. God, I’ve never felt pain like that. Did you get that thing off me?”
“Yeah, I did.” Jack held it up. Sam opened his eyes and looked at it.
“You were right. I had a picture of you in my head when I felt that.”
“What was I doing?”
“You were doing things to Gina.”
“Like what?”
“Cutting her. Fucking her. Cutting and fucking her.”
“You know I’d never hurt Gina, right, Sam? You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah. You’re the best guy she’s ever had. By far. I know you wouldn’t hurt her.”
“Then why did you see that... in your head?”
“I don’t know. It was like, for a minute there, I didn’t have any control over my thoughts at all.”
“I want to try and find Gina, Sam. Will you help me?”
“Like come with you?”
“Yeah. Will you come with me?”
“I’d do anything for my sister. If you think she’s in danger, I’ll come with you.”
Seventeen
It was well after three o’clock by the time they managed to raise Sam from the floor. Jack had put the brand/hunk of Sam’s skin on a glossy Spider-Man comic spread out on the coffee table. Once Sam was upright, he said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and get cleaned up a little bit.”
“Okay,” Jack said. Sam was a mess. Blood coated his face from where Jack had punched him. He figured it was highly likely that he had broken Sam’s nose. He was sorry about it but knew it was all done in self-defense and there were a lot worse things than a broken nose. Then there was the matter of the missing skin on his forearm. It was definitely going to turn into a scar. While it was bloody, it didn’t seem to go down that deep. It was kind of like the outer layer of a blister had been pulled off.
With Sam in the bathroom, Jack picked up the brand, holding it delicately in his fingertips and sitting back on the stinky couch.
What the hell was it?
No longer did he think the mark was on his side. Now he thought the mark was given to people to make them turn against him. To hinder him in his quest. Jesus, just thinking like that made him feel like he was going insane. A quest. He didn’t have a quest yesterday. Yesterday was a Saturday and he was just a guy like a million other guys who dreaded going into work on Monday. Today he would have been content to just sit around the house on his one day off and enjoy the company of his girlfriend. His girlfriend who he was going to make his fiancée.
Now that had all been blown to hell.
This was how he was spending his day off.
A day he would have hoped to remember as the day he proposed to Gina. Now he would remember it as the day he either won or lost Gina.
The brand had come away just as it was on Sam’s arm. That is, only the lines of the brand came away. That rectangle with the horizontal line through it.
Jack thought it had to mean something. It seemed to be some kind of design, almost like a logo. If it was just meant to inflict pain and keep people away from him then he figured it could have been a less intricate mark like a simple slash or “X” or something. But this looked like it was trying to be some kind of stylized symbol.
Maybe Sam would have an idea where to look for her.
Absently, Jack stared at the brand until Sam emerged from the bathroom, his face wiped clean and a bandage applied to his arm. Then he slid the brand into his pants pocket.
“Ready,” Sam said.
“Do you have any ideas where she might be?”
“Not really. You already check with her friends?”
“I don’t really think she’s with her friends. The phone calls, remember? And I was with her right before she went missing. I did talk to Maria though, from the coffee shop?”
“Oh, yeah, Maria. Hadn’t seen her?”
“No. Didn’t have any ideas at all, really. She got branded too.”
“Did she try and kill you?”
“No. I think I left before she could really get the urge. And I think she wants to sleep with me.”
“Have your babies, huh?”
“Gross.”
“So... no ideas?”
“Well, not any legitimate ones. I mainly just feel like we should keep moving, you know. I don’t know that it’s doing any good just to sit around talking about it but at the same time if we keep moving and we’re going in the wrong direction, then that’s not going to help a lot either.”
“How much time do you have?”
“Basically until tomorrow morning.”
“And then?”
“It’s over, I guess. Either someone dies or he takes Gina away.”
“That’s like kidnapping isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I can’t call the police. He said he would know if I called the police and he would just finish her right there.”
“I’d like to get my hands on that guy.”
“I’d like to know who the fuck it was. I did have one idea...”
“What’s that?”
“I think maybe he took her to some kind of hotel or motel.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Just kind of a hunch.”
“Well, Alton’s got plenty of those.”
“Do you know of most of them?”
“I think most of them are up by the highway.”
“I’m thinking it almost has to be one that isn’t really populated, you know?”
“Well, I don’t really know about that. I don’t know how full they’re going to be on a Sunday morning. This is Alton, you know. There isn’t much of a reason for people to be here unless they’re just passing through. I’m guessing most of the truckers and the business-types check out early. If they would be here on a Sunday morning at all. And really, what are a few screams coming from a hotel room, anyway? Someone overhears them, as long as they aren’t too prolonged or desperate-sounding, and they just dismiss it as laughter or sex or something else.”
“That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.”
“We’ll find her,” Sam said.
“You have a car, right?”
“You’re going to use me for my car?”
“It would help a lot.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a car. You want to go up by the highway?”
“I guess that’s a good place to start.”
“Let me get the keys.”
Sam disappeared into the kitchen to get the keys. He came back, turning off lights as he did so, and Jack followed him through the front door.
A cop car was in the driveway.
Jack’s heart lurched. His first thought was that the cop was here to tell them something terrible had happe
ned to Gina. His second thought was the cop was here to put a bullet through each of them. To punish Jack for getting Sam’s help.
The cop got out of the driver’s side and raised his arm, “Can you two stay right there?”
Jack and Sam both stopped, stupidly raising their hands above their heads.
“Do you live on the ground floor?” the cop asked.
“I do,” Sam said. He nodded toward Jack, keeping his hands raised. “He doesn’t live here.”
“There was a complaint about some noise. The caller said it sounded like there was a fight going on. Were you two fighting?”
“No, sir,” Sam said. “We were watching a movie. Maybe I had the TV up too loud.”
The cop moved closer to them. He looked at Sam and said, “What happened to your nose?”
It was bulbous and purple.
Sam laughed it off. “I wish I knew.”
“What kind of answer is that?” the cop asked.
“Unfortunately, it’s the only one I can give. Some of my friends took me out last night. I’m afraid I had a little too much to drink and when I woke up this morning I found I had this little souvenir.”
“Regardless, I think I’d better come in and take a look around.”
“I kind of need to get my friend here to work...” Jack knew this was a mistake as soon as Sam began. It made it sound like he was hiding something.
“Shouldn’t take long,” the cop said, already approaching the apartment. “You guys can put your arms down.”
Jack and Sam followed the cop to the apartment. Jack couldn’t begin to fathom the ridiculousness of this. Here was a cop not two feet away from them. How easy it would be to just say, hey look, I’ve got this situation... And tell him everything. The idea almost sounded good to Jack. If what Mr. Grin had said was true. If Jack called the police, then maybe Mr. Grin would know because his connection was the dispatcher or something. But if the police were already here then how could Mr. Grin possibly know if Jack told them anything?
Unless it was Mr. Grin who sent the cop here in the first place.
If he’s capable of supernaturally branding people then maybe he’s capable of knowing what’s going on.
Jack and Sam hovered around the cop as he went through the apartment. Luckily, the bong was all smashed on the ground so it wasn’t immediately recognizable as a bong. Sam kicked the golden metal bowl part of it under the end table. Jack’s mind raced. The cop took both their names. He got Jack’s address, writing it down in his pad.
“This place is a wreck,” the cop said.
“I know, officer,” Sam said. “I drink a lot. But that’s not a crime, is it?”
“The kitchen smells like spoiled milk.”
“On top of being a drunk, I’m also very lazy.”
“I’m starting to not like your attitude,” the cop said.
“I apologize, officer.”
Jack was starting to wish Sam would stop. He was going to end up getting them ticketed or dragged to the station for something completely stupid. Jack stayed close by them, as they went from room to room, simultaneously making sure Sam didn’t say anything too incriminating and watching the cop.
It was possible, Jack thought, that this cop was Mr. Grin’s connection to the force. If that was the case, and Jack couldn’t even believe he was thinking of this, he could take the cop out. Take him captive or something and force the cop to tell him where Gina was. But that would be an extremely bold move. If it didn’t work exactly the way Jack wanted it to, he could find himself in jail or even dead, shot by the cop in so-called self-defense.
He found himself looking at the cop, thinking he was just stalling them, but also looking at his gun, hung in his belt, the police radio, hung at the ready on his shoulder.
Between him and Sam, it was possible that the cop could be taken down and restrained.
Jack’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Reaching in to take it out, the cop whirled, immediately stopping what he was doing, his hand already on his gun.
“It’s just my phone,” Jack said. “Is it okay to take it?”
“I guess,” the cop said.
Jack flipped the phone open, walking back into the living room. Jack had planned on putting it on speakerphone the next time Mr. Grin called so Sam could hear what he sounded like. Maybe Sam would be able to identify him from the voice. But he couldn’t do that now, even though he was tempted to. He could just keep it on speakerphone and let Mr. Cop hear everything Mr. Grin was doing to Gina. He remembered a feature on his phone that allowed him to record conversations and, before answering it, he pressed the button that activated the voice memo.
Jack flipped the phone open, hoping it was going to catch everything, and said, “Hello.”
“My,” Mr. Grin began. “That’s the most pleasant introduction I’ve received all day. Wouldn’t be because there’s a cop going through your friend’s house right now, would it?”
“How do you know that?”
“I told you. You don’t want to go to the police.”
“I didn’t. I swear.”
“Okay. I believe you.”
Jack wanted to ask Mr. Grin if he had sent the cop here or if it really was just some strange coincidence but knew it wouldn’t do any good.
“Just thought I’d call,” Mr. Grin said. “To keep you updated. It’s been a long time since I’ve fucked Gina, Jack. Thought you might want to hear it.”
Jack wanted to say all kinds of things but managed to fight the urge and say nothing.
He heard the sound of Mr. Grin’s phone shift and figured he must have been put on speakerphone.
He heard Gina wince... and speak.
“Jack. I love you. Oh, God, Jack, please find me. Please.”
“Where are you?” Jack said casually into the phone. Of course, he knew Mr. Grin would probably kill her if she told him where they were.
“I can’t tell you. Just... please.”
Then he heard her breath coming in short bursts, skin slapping skin, Mr. Grin grunting from somewhere far away. Everything built to its strange rhythm, Gina’s breaths so sharp it sounded like the phone was right next to her mouth. Mr. Grin grunted loudly and then the phone call ended. Jack looked at the phone as though it had somehow forsaken him.
He pressed buttons until he found an options menu. He scrolled down to the “Voice Memo” selection. He highlighted that one and clicked on it. The conversation was there in its entirety. He would let Sam listen to it if the ass didn’t end up in jail. Maybe it would strike some sort of chord with him.
He was so full of fury and rage his thoughts turned back to the cop and he was almost ready to attack him, certain he would be able to tell him who Mr. Grin was but he was already backing down the driveway. Timed perfectly. Everything seemed like it was timed so fucking perfectly.
Sam stood at the door to his apartment.
“He left in a fucking hurry,” Sam said.
“Yeah.”
“He was supposed to come back and breathalyze me.”
“Breathalyze you?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what you get for telling cops you drink a lot. You know how I told him I was taking you to work? He wanted to make sure I was able to do it ‘unimpeded’ was how he put it.”
“Then he just drove off.”
“Well, he did ask about the blood in the bathroom. I told him I didn’t know exactly but I thought it came from my nose or maybe my girlfriend was menstruating. Good thing he didn’t see that hunk of skin you tore off me. Would have probably thought we were cannibals too.”
“Do your neighbors complain a lot?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I mean, if someone complained it would have had to be the people above you, right?”
“Never really thought of that. I guess so. They’re never here during the day, though.”
“It is Sunday though.”
“No. They go away most weekends. We could go up there but I doubt they’re there right now.”
“I don’t think the cop was really investigating much of anything.”
“No?”
“No. I think he was sent as a warning.”
“We should have fucking taken him out.”
“That’s kind of what I had planned but now he’s gone.”
“I guess we should be gone too, huh?”
“The sooner the better.”
It was 4:36.
Eighteen
Sam fired up the car and the sound of the Misfits blasted from the aged and badly worn speakers. He made no attempt to turn it down. He backed out haphazardly into the road, seemingly unaware that any cars may be speeding toward him, and gunned the accelerator until they were out on the state route and headed toward the highway.
He ran red lights and stop signs, acting not at all like a person who has just had a run-in with the police.
Once they reached a straightaway, Jack turned down the volume on the stereo and pulled out his cell phone. He found the latest call and said, “I want you to listen to this and tell me if you recognize the guy’s voice. It’s a little disturbing. I just want to warn you.”
“Give it here,” he said.
Jack watched for his reaction as he held it up to his right ear, a cigarette burning in his left hand. Miraculously, he managed to keep control of the speeding car.
After a few seconds, a look of distaste crossed Sam’s face and Jack almost thought he was going to throw the phone out the window. Instead, he angrily flipped it closed and tossed it over onto Jack’s lap.
“I tell you... When we find that guy I’m gonna cut his balls off and chew on em a little bit.”
“Did he sound at all familiar?”
“Shit. He sounded like every fat fuck I run into every day.”
“Did you think...” Jack began. “Did you think it sounded like he was... smiling?”
“Yeah. A little.” Sam plastered a smile on his face and mimicked some of what Mr. Grin said. “Yeah, I think it did sound like he was smiling. You know, there was this kid we went to school with. We all called him Smiley, you know, because it looked like he was always smiling. Maybe it was just the shape of his mouth or something.”
Jack felt his hopes surge wildly out of control.
Was it possible?
Jack and Mr. Grin Page 7
