by Lisa Ladew
“You said you had a gun,” West said.
“Yeah.”
“Do you have a concealed carry permit for it?”
Katerina shook her head no, trying not to let the fact that she needed a gun just to walk out her front door collapse on her.
“Do you mind if I bring it with us today? I don’t have a permit either, but I’ll take the blame if I get caught. I would feel safer with it.”
Katerina nodded, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. She tried to blink them away and not get any in the eggs. She felt overwhelmed and completely on edge. She didn’t want to have to carry a gun with her just to leave the house. She didn’t want to have to touch bodies of women who shouldn’t be dead. She didn’t want to stay home from work and possibly be fired for it. None of this was fair.
West brushed a lock of hair out of her face so he could see her. Then he gathered her into his arms. “Hey, it’s gonna be OK. I promise.”
She didn’t have the strength to argue.
***
Exactly one hour later, West and Katerina pulled up in the parking lot of the old morgue. Katerina had never been there before. In fact, she’d never known it was a morgue. It looked like an ordinary office building, except all the windows were mirrored and heavily tinted - you couldn’t see in from the outside. They got out of her car and walked to the front door. West grasped her hand and squeezed, lending her strength, then pulled open the door and motioned her inside.
The building seemed completely empty. Their steps echoed on the cool tile of the waiting room. A man’s voice called from another room, “I’ll be right there.”
“OK,” West said, looking around.
Katerina shivered violently. Fear filled her. The reality of what she was about to do sat heavily on her chest. Images started bouncing through her brain at random. Already? she thought in dismay. But the images were muted, hard to make out. She was glad and did not try to see them any better. She would do this one time, and one time only. She would tell West what she saw and hope she never had to think of it again.
A man entered the room. Katerina recognized him as the assistant Medical Examiner she’d met before, when she identified Pam’s body. He didn’t look directly at her, but instead looked at her feet. “You’re here to see the bodies?” he asked, his voice surprisingly high for such a big man.
“Yes,” West answered.
“Can I see some identification?”
Katerina dug in her pocket for her driver’s license. That and her keys was all she was carrying. She held it out to the man and West did the same. The man barely glanced at the IDs and then motioned for them to follow him. They walked down a slight decline, then through a door to an office. The man walked on, without a word, to the other side of the office, then opened and walked through a door on the far end. West held the door open for Katerina. Her dread grew larger with every step she took.
Now they were in a large, open room, with stainless steel tables placed every four feet or so. The lights were low, giving the room a gloomy feel. “Wait here please, I need to procure some paperwork.” He hurried out of the room, propping the door open.
Katerina’s throat felt constricted, like she was trying to swallow an orange. She tried to relax. West took her hand and squeezed it again. “Almost done. You’re doing great,” he said.
Images kept flipping through Katerina’s brain, faster and faster. Katerina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was the first time that being with West hadn’t made them go away. She felt like she was forgetting something. Or like they were trying to tell her something. She tried to focus, seeing the images as almost-friendly for the first time.
She told them to slow down. She could almost see what was in her mind, like a movie she was trying to watch behind a hanging sheet. She pulled her hand out of West’s and took a step away from him. The images gained a bit of focus, but when West stepped close to her again, they lost it.
“Stay here for a sec, I want to … I want to see something, but you … you distract me,” she told him, not wanting to take the time to explain anymore. She stepped past one of the tables and walked to the other side of it, leaving West a few feet behind her. And now she could see. It was like a movie. A movie of the killer’s life. A jumble of things that made no sense to her. Until that one. She gasped and tried to stop the image from flitting past - tried to freeze it in her mind. It was a morgue. A room covered in stainless steel just like the one she was in. There was a feeling attached to the image, a sense of knowing. If she could just interpret what it meant … She reached for it, opened herself to it …
Everything fell into place in an instant. She had willingly walked right into the spider’s web.
Chapter 23
Katerina whirled back to West, a shout on her lips.
The assistant Medical Examiner was already behind him, holding something she couldn’t immediately place in both of his hands - something long and shiny. Needles. She didn’t recognize them right away because they were the biggest needles she had ever seen. Disgustingly big. Terrifyingly big.
The man who thought of himself as The Collector was poised behind West, his hands already thrusting violently forward. Before she could say or do a thing, the needles pierced West’s upper thighs. His face contorted in pain and he bent backwards, his hands flying behind him.
“No!” Katerina screamed, her voice echoing off of the fixtures of the room. She ran for West but one look past him stopped her. The monster had another needle. Another needle so long it looked wrong. She could see the huge hole at the end it from where she stood, a drop of liquid shimmering wetly at the tip. She still didn’t know his name. But he knew theirs.
Katerina took a tentative step backwards, wanting desperately to help West, but knowing a step forward meant death. One of West’s hands came forward, even as he crumpled to the ground. In it was a syringe, but the needle was not attached. As he fell forward, Katerina could see the metal of the needle extending past the hole in his jeans where the man had jabbed him.
“Go, Katerina, run, get out of here,” West said, his voice weak and slurred already. What had the man injected him with? Adrenaline cast Katerina’s mind in a thousand different directions. Panic beat at her throat. The man took a step towards her, not even sparing West a glance, as if he were now inconsequential. Katerina looked at West though, she knew he had her gun in a holster at the small of his back. If only she could get to it. West’s fingers scrabbled weakly at his shirt, but he couldn’t seem to pull it out of his jeans.
“Come now Ginger. Or is it Katerina? The police reports say Ginger, but your friends call you Katerina. I want to be your friend. I want to call you Katerina. Or maybe Katie. If you don’t fight me, I won’t stick you with this. And then we will be on our way to being friends. Am I right?”
The man’s voice echoed sickly in her mind. She could hear it attached to the images for the first time. His voice. His chuckle. His sigh. It made her skin itch and crawl all over her body. She could suddenly see his thoughts, his feelings, like flies crawling sluggishly over sewage. They had colors, sick, dark, pulsing colors that didn’t belong associated with anyone human. They had strength, and lives of their own, these thoughts. He was controlled by them. He was insane. It had been there in her mind all the time, but she hadn’t recognized it until now.
Katerina felt her breakfast rebel in her stomach. The man took a step forward, and she took an unconscious step back. He took another step forward, reaching a conciliatory hand out to her. With a stifled shriek of terror, Katerina turned and ran. She knew if he touched her, knew if she got one more dose of his abhorrent personality, she would not survive.
There was a door at the far end of the room, and Katerina ran for it, not wanting to contemplate if it was locked or not. It wasn’t. She burst through it, not daring to look over her shoulder to see if he was coming for her. Some part of her knew that was stupid. He could have gone another way - he could already be in front of her. But she cou
ldn’t do any different. Hysteria had taken over. She had to find help.
The door opened on a hallway and Katerina ran as fast as she could down it. Behind her, she heard the door open and close again. She strained to hear more over the sound of her own ragged breathing. At the very end of the hallway, she saw an exit sign over two heavy-looking, double doors, but she could already see the exit doors were chained shut. From the sounds behind her, she could tell the man was closer already. If only she could get back to the front door. She turned left quickly, as the hallway t-boned that way. She bounced off the far wall but barely felt it. Even the needle didn’t scare her as much as that man touching her.
She could see a desk opposite the far end of the hallway. And windows. The front door? She tried to put on a burst of speed, willing her feet to go just a little faster. As she exited the hallway, she skirted the desk and saw she was indeed back in the waiting area where they had come in, but these doors were now chained shut too. Katerina didn’t know what to do. She looked left, then right, but saw nothing that could help her. She had no choice but to keep running.
The man caught up to her and barreled into her from the back, knocking her flying across the room. She lost her balance and went down, and the man fell heavily on top of her. Katerina knew she couldn’t fight him. He was twice her size. Instead, she concentrated on blocking him out. On keeping his foulness from contaminating her, killing her. She squeezed her arms close across her chest, and her eyes closed tight. She put up a mental wall between them as best she could. Even the needle would be better than having his being on open display in her mind again. Especially now that she was better at interpreting what came to her.
Nothing happened for a moment as he caught his breath above her. She briefly considered screaming, but that would mean she would have to open her mouth. No way. Uh uh. She wasn’t doing that. She was shut down, and she was staying that way.
When he finally spoke, his voice was grossly intimate, like they were old friends. Katerina’s breakfast lurched again at the sound.
“Katerina. It seems you don’t want to be my friend. But perhaps I can convince you. I’d like to get to know you better. I’d like to know exactly how you discovered my secrets.”
The man grasped her by her upper arms and flipped her over like she were no more than a toy doll. She ducked her face into her shoulder and kept her eyes frantically shut.
He leaned forward until his face was inches from hers, until she could smell his breath. It was surprisingly minty, like he’d been chewing gum, or had just gargled with mouthwash. “The police report says you saw the bodies of my women in your mind when you touched me. But that can’t possibly be true, can it?”
She didn’t answer and he shook her. “Can it? You need to answer me Katerina. You don’t seem to understand the situation you are in. No one will be coming to save you. By the time your police officer friend misses you, it will be too late for you. Your boyfriend can’t help you. His heart and lungs are freezing in place. Soon they will stop and he will be dead. He might be dead already. And you, well, your immediate fate rests in whether you talk to me or not.” He shook her one last time then screamed in her face, “So talk!”
Katerina pulled in closer on herself. All she could think of was West. West dying. West dead. And it was her fault.
“You drugged me didn’t you,” the man hissed at her. “You put something on my skin that made me feel tired. But why? Was it my brother? Did he send you to check on me?”
The man leaned so close to Katerina that his lips were almost touching her face. Katerina couldn’t see him, but she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. She squirmed in revulsion. The man let go of one of her arms and tried to pry her right eye open. “Look at me Katerina. Look at me and say something. Or my brother will get you back in pieces. Or is that what he wants?”
Katerina heard confusion in the man’s voice. She tried to focus on it. Tried to think of something that could get her out of this. Should she talk to him? Play along? Deny everything? Tell the truth? The very nearness of him scrambled her neurons and jumbled her ability to think. She couldn’t give up. But she wanted to. She wanted him to just kill her already. Then the nightmare would be over.
“Unless you really are psychic. How does one become psychic? Can you learn it? Are you born that way? Can you teach me? Could I become psychic? Perhaps if I eat you …”
Katerina felt something wet and awful on her cheek. His tongue. He was licking her. Tasting her. The thought broke her paralysis and she acted, frantically, frenetically, doing the only thing in her power to do.
She grabbed his meaty upper arm with her free hand and opened herself to him. She opened herself and asked for him. She opened herself and drew him in. Everything she could take. His essence rushed into her, not only through the conduit of her hand on him, but also from his hand on her. It came fast and hard and she couldn’t stand it. It was mud-brown. Shit-brown. It tasted and smelled and sounded like madness and death. It looked like abuse, destruction, obliteration. It poured into her as fast as she could pull it, and when she could hold no more she opened her mouth and screamed. She felt some of it shoot out through her mouth and leave her for good. She screamed and pushed as much of it out that way as she could, until her lungs were forced empty and he collapsed on top of her with a groan.
Katerina ripped her arm from his grip and let go of him. She sucked in cool, clean air, then mentally tried to block off the bits of him that were left inside her. She kicked with her feet and tried to roll his now dead-weight off of her. She had no idea how long she had until he was fully functioning again. For all she knew he only felt a bit tired and would be up and at her again in an instant. She pulled her body out from underneath him and scrambled upright, running the way he had led her and West when they came in.
She swiftly came upon West’s body, her mind stuttering in fear at how still he was. She dropped to her knees and skidded to a stop next to him, positioning herself so she could see the way she had just come from. She needed the gun. But first … she grabbed the horrible needle protruding from his left leg and pulled it completely out, casting it aside. She looked up and saw no one. She moved on to the right leg, where the broken needle was barely poking out of West’s flesh. No time for gentleness, she pushed hard around the wound, holding the flesh down, then squeezed the metal between her fingers. She drew it out also and threw it hard. It clattered across the room and under a cabinet. Her fingers crept to his neck, terrified of what she wouldn’t find there. But before she could fit them in the groove where his pulse should be, a movement caught her eye. The man, the monster, the assistant medical examiner, was shambling towards her, moving slowly and looking smaller and somehow more faded than he had before, but still very much a threat to her.
Katerina yanked West’s shirt upwards and unbuttoned the strap to the holster he was wearing. She expertly drew out her gun and stood up, taking the stance she had been taught, so many years ago. With her thumb, she flipped off the safety. She already knew a round was in the chamber. She looked down the sights of the gun, settling them over the man’s heart. “Stop, or I’ll shoot you,” she said, dismayed to hear how weak she sounded.
He didn’t hear, or understand, or care. He kept coming, halving the distance between them. Katerina waited until he was twelve feet away, then fired, squeezing the trigger slowly and carefully, just as she had practiced a thousand times.
A red hole opened in his chest, slightly to the right of where she had been aiming. He staggered backwards and fell over, the only sound coming when his body thumped on the floor.
Katerina thumbed the safety back on and knelt down slowly, never taking her eyes off the man she had just shot. A coldness had fallen over her. She was a killer now.
Her fingers found West and sought his neck again. She pressed them in the groove and waited, jaw clenched. Alive or dead? Chance or none? And if there was no heartbeat? Would she press this gun against her temple and squeeze the trigger? Perhaps
. Because that was what killers did. They killed.
A turgid beat thumped against her fingers. Alive. Chance.
She would take it.
Chapter 24
Katerina pulled West over as far as she could and dug in his pocket where she prayed his phone was. She found it, thank God! She pulled it out, and dialed 911. The seconds felt like hours. She put her hand on West’s shoulder, and kneaded his flesh, begging him to just hold on a little longer.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance at the old morgue on-”
“Hold on, I’ll transfer you.”
Katerina swore under her breath. She’d never been on this side of the emergency before. She heard a click in her ear.
“Where is your emergency?” a bored, female voice asked.
“At the old morgue on Fern Street. This is Katerina Holloway, I’m a paramedic. Another paramedic, West Shepherd, has been injected with something by a man who tried to kill us. I need an ambulance now or he’s going to die.”
“OK, hold on.”
Katerina heard the new urgency in the call taker’s voice and drew in a shaky breath. She’d gotten through to her. Now the ambulance just had to get here quickly. West couldn’t have more than a few (sixteen) minutes until he was in serious trouble. Katerina’s eyebrows drew in tight over her eyes. Sixteen minutes? Where had that thought come from? How could she-?
“We have an ambulance on its way. Is the man who tried to kill you still there?”
“Yes,” Katerina said, staring at him. “I shot him.”
“You shot him with a gun?”
“Yes.”
“OK, hang on the line, I’ll need to send you back to police dispatch.”
Katerina dropped the phone. A timer. She needed a timer. West was wearing a large, silver watch. She lifted his arm and stared at the screen, then pressed buttons until zeroes flashed on the screen. She started the timer, staring at the numbers as they counted down the seconds too quickly, not caring what they meant to a man’s life.
