“I don’t know…what do you have?”
“Anything, little man. Just say the word.”
“Pepperoni pizza?”
Jake nodded and chuckled. “You got it. Your sister like anything in particular? Ice cream or chocolate chip cookies or anything like that?”
“Um…no, she’ll just eat some pizza with me. Th-thanks, Jake.”
Jake backed out of the door and disappeared down the hall. Paco slipped from his bedroom and lightly rapped on Sophia’s door.
“Sophia, you okay in there?”
“Um…yeah…don’t come in. I’m okay.”
Paco sensed the panic in her voice and ignored her request. He flung the door open, gasped, then quickly closed it behind him. There was no lock on the door, so he scooted an end table in front of it.
“What…what happened?”
“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “It was an accident. I was just playing, I promise!”
She stood in the middle of the room, dolls and plush animals sitting in a circle around her. The duct tape that had been wrapped around her torso hung from her body in tatters, and Sophia clung to her intestines, trying to stuff them back into her stomach cavity quicker than they were spilling out.
“Paco…help me.”
- Chapter 18 -
When the two SUVs pulled up, Calico was sitting on the porch covered in blood. The sun cooked it onto his skin, and with every movement, some of it would crack and flake away. He liked it there, could still feel the buzz of Brewster’s death in it.
The kid’s severed head, with its tongue hanging from between blackened lips like melting bubble gum, was perched on the fence post so that any passersby could see it. The rest of the young drug dealer—all nine pieces of him—was stuffed into black plastic bags that Calico had found under the sink inside of the house. The bags sat in a line on the lawn, leaking blood into the dirt and turning it to thick mud.
Calico had his knife, point down, on his knee, and he spun it as he awaited the men to approach, whistling “The Entertainer” again. Six of Fleet’s guys exited the vehicles, then stopped short of entering the house as they caught sight of Calico.
“You know where the meat is. Go get it,” Calico said as he jerked his thumb behind him.
Five of the six cronies side-stepped past him, as if to touch Calico meant their demise, then they entered the house. That left only one, the big Samoan, who stared down at Calico and shook his head.
“You crazy, man. Fuckin’ crazy.”
“Yeah, that’s what they say,” Calico said as he rose to his feet. The Samoan flinched, then adjusted his posture. Calico grabbed the first black bag and slammed it into the man’s chest, splashing blood into his face and staining his suit. “Take this and set each piece at a different location around town.”
“What the fuck, man!”
“I took the liberty of carving a message on each piece. Anyone that sees it will understand the warning. And I doubt we’ll have any more trouble from any dealers for a long time.” And with that, Calico strolled past the dumfounded man and started walking down the sidewalk.
“Where you goin’? There’s still work to do!”
“My work is done, Ugh. Now do what I told you. I’m going to see my daughter.” He whistled the familiar tune, a tune that had been stuck in his head since he was a child sitting on the curb waiting for the ice cream man, the only time in his life he could remember that wasn’t soaked in blood and death, and he walked down the street toward Fleet’s headquarters.
***
When Calico arrived, he went straight to his apartment. He had to wash up before he saw Beauty, had to get the coagulated blood out of his crevices. The bullet he’d dug out of his shoulder lay in a cup of water swirling with blood, and he finished up the stitch job, slapped a bandage over it. The pain was incredible, and he enjoyed the throbbing as he turned on the shower.
As he stood in the tub, his forehead resting on the tile wall, he watched the blood melt off him and swirl into the drain. Brewster’s wheezing cries of pain bounced around in his skull, along with the sound of his blade sawing through flesh as he quartered the body. The hot water was heaven against his skin and he could have fallen asleep right there on his feet.
But there was a knock at the door. Calico growled, rubbed the hard callused skin of his palms over his face and head, the wounds on them still fresh, still healing. He hoped whoever it was would just go away, leave him be, but another knock came.
What the fuck else do they want from me?
After slamming his knuckles into the wall, he stepped out of the tub and went straight for the door, not bothering to towel off or clothe himself.
He swung the door open. “What the fuck do you w—”
“Nunghh…”
At the sight of Beauty, he became suddenly aware of his nudity. Fleet stood behind the girl with a cheek-tearing grin on his face, his hands gripping her shoulders. The red light blinked under her face.
“Well, hello there,” Fleet said, his eyes pasted to Calico’s dangling dick. “I’ll wait while you squeeze into some shorts, hmm?”
Calico let them inside, threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. What the hell is he doing here?
“Well, if your career in violence doesn’t work out, you can always find work in porn,” Fleet said as he guffawed. “I’m sure there’s a market for the man with the spotted cock, don’t you?”
Calico didn’t respond. Since Fleet had trapped him into working for him a few years back, not once has the bossman come knocking at his door like this. And the fact that he brought Beauty with him got Calico’s adrenaline pumping. Is he here to threaten me? Demand something?
Calico couldn’t help but wonder if the detonator for the explosive inside of his daughter was on Fleet right then. No, he wouldn’t be that stupid. One of his boys has it, is probably watching through surveillance right now. Calico had to force himself not to look toward the camera.
Calico took tentative steps toward the living room, mentally preparing himself for what came next. His eyes kept darting toward the door, expecting Fleet’s cronies to burst in at any second. Beauty played with her doll in the corner, twirling it over her head and grunting. Fleet sat on the couch with his legs crossed, his expression calm, a slight smile hooking the wrinkled lips.
“You know I used to run my own porn site? Long time ago.” Fleet chuckled and slapped his knee. “It was my first business, and goddamn if I wasn’t good at it. Was building a pretty decent fan base too, but once this whole meat thing blew up, I had to leave it behind. I hated to let it go, had sort of a passion for it I guess you could say. That’s why I started the snuff films. I missed all that wet pussy around me, know what I mean?” He paused as if waiting for a reply from Calico, but got nothing. “So when the time was right, I combined my two business ventures. Now the Corpse Snuff sells almost as good as the fucking meat, can you believe that shit? My customers can’t get enough of it.”
“What’s this about?” Calico said, positioning himself to stand between the bossman and his daughter. “I did good work today. Went above and beyond, actually.”
“I agree,” Fleet said switching his position and letting his smile transform into an all-business countenance. “That’s why I’m here. Not only did you take care of my problem, but you made me some extra money. None of my boys would have found that meat cellar. Good fucking job.” He plucked the cowboy hat from his head, balanced it on his knee. “Actually, half of that meat was bad. Stupid fucker was probably killing off his clientele. But I still made a nice profit, thanks to you.”
Calico still didn’t move from his spot. He nodded and shrugged, fingers hard and curled like talons. “It’s not like I have a choice, right?”
Fleet snorted. “No, I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean we have to be enemies, does it?” He opened his coat and pulled out a gun. Calico nearly pounced on him until he recognized it as Beauty’s pellet gun. “I wanted to return this to you. You deserve a f
ew extra privileges for all the fine work you’ve been doing on my behalf.”
Calico swiped the gun from Fleet’s hand. “On your behalf? Let me see if I remember your words correctly. Work for me or I’ll detonate the explosive and blow your daughter’s head clean off her body. Then I’ll process and sell the rest of her. That about the gist of it?” Calico squeezed the gun so hard he thought it would crack in half.
Fleet’s expression didn’t change. “You’re fucking right it is. And I stick by that. Let’s not forget that you put yourself in this situation.”
“Really? Your men tried to take my daughter…at her own fucking funeral! Every one of them deserved what they got, and I’d do it again!”
Fleet looked ready to stand, but calmed, smiled again, cleared his throat. “Hell, if it wasn’t for that, I woulda never known you were such a skilled killer. Only a professional could have handled my boys the way you did. Your last boss didn’t know what he had, your talents were wasted with him. Can you blame a businessman for wanting a man like you on his side?”
Calico thought about his last boss, Sal, and how good he used to treat Calico. Paid him well, only made him kill the ones that really deserved it, the real scum of the earth. But Fleet took care of Sal, and all of his men, only days after Beauty’s funeral. Calico had considered them all friends. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’m on your side, motherfucker. I—”
“Look, this isn’t why I’m here, okay? I’ve fucked you over, I admit that. For the time being, I can’t fix it. But I’d like to make it up to you…at least do something to show my appreciation.”
Calico only raised an eyebrow, set the pellet gun down on the sofa, and crossed his arms.
“I want to invite you and your…daughter over for dinner at my home. Tonight.”
“Not interested.”
“Now look here, I’m trying my best to be cordial. I suggest you make the best of your situation and try and find some joy every now and then. I don’t offer this to just anyone.” Fleet smoothed out the front of his shirt, forced a smile. “There’s jobs to be done tonight, but I’ve got my men on it. Giving you the night off to come and dine with me. Whattya say, huh?”
Calico looked back at Beauty, who moaned as she slammed her doll’s head against the wall over and over again. She glanced up at her father, as if feeling his stare, and made an expression that was the closest thing to a smile she could manage. “Unhh.”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Fleet shrugged as he pulled a cigar from his coat pocket and chewed on the end of it. “Suppose not. It’s either dinner with me or your dead little girl goes back in her cell and you get your black and white ass back on the street.”
It took every ounce of willpower for Calico not to attack, peel this sack of shit like a banana, and piss on his quivering, bleeding body. It would be quick and easy to kill him. But he knew it would doom him and Beauty, so he held in his anger until it felt like he would burst from the pressure. He glanced quickly at the camera.
“I’ll have an escort pick you up in a few hours,” Fleet said. He continued to chew on the cigar and stare at Calico, a goofy smile now contorting his mouth. “And clean her up, will ya?”
Calico wanted to say so much, but he bit his tongue and kept his eyes pinned to the old man’s face. That same stare that usually made hard men crumble had no such effect on Fleet.
Calico watched Fleet leave, and when the old man was just outside the front door, he turned, pulled the cigar from his mouth. “Tomorrow is business as usual, you got me? Got some big jobs coming up.”
You always do, motherfucker.
And with that, Fleet trudged down the hallway, humming and rapping a tune on the wall.
Calico slammed the door and went straight for Beauty. He lifted her into his arms and hugged her close, her smell momentarily reminding him of the corpses in Brewster’s cellar.
“You ready for your bath, baby girl?”
“Unghungh…”
All alone with Fleet in his own home? Calico didn’t think so. There would no doubt be some of his men there, even if they were out of sight. But if what the old man said was true, if most of his guys would be out doing jobs for him, taking care of business, then Calico liked his chances. And I’ll finally be close to Fleet outside this fucking fortress.
Calico was ready to strike. He knew he wouldn’t get another opportunity like this, and he’d been waiting years for it. There was no choice. If he wanted to get him and Beauty out of there, tonight was the night.
Brewster’s gun still lay in the pocket of his blood-soaked slacks on the bathroom floor. He pressed on Beauty’s stomach, the skin stretched tight like a drum, and popped a few stitches loose. The cameras whirred, but he didn’t think they could see what he was doing, had his back turned to it and tried to make it look like he was doing nothing more than undressing his daughter.
He kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, baby, let’s get your bath ready. Gotta get nice and pretty for the bossman.”
- Chapter 19 -
Paco kicked the near-empty, grease-stained pizza box away from him as he chewed on another piece. He figured he had to eat Sophia’s share too so the Harrells wouldn’t catch on.
How long can I keep this up?
If they were truly going to live with these people, the Harrells would figure it out eventually. Sophia not eating, stinking worse every day, shrinking away as her flesh decomposed.
That’s why she needs the doctor. He’ll cure her and she’ll be a normal little girl again.
But there was still the guts to deal with. They hung out of her stomach like dead snakes, staining the carpet a black crusty hue. When Jake had entered the room with the pizza, Sophia had been hugging a jumbo teddy bear to hide the entrails.
“Dig in, guys,” he had said, then just stood there, as if he wouldn’t be satisfied until he watched them eat it.
“She’s…uh…she’s shy. She won’t eat with you standing there,” Paco had said, giving the only excuse he could think of.
Jake stuck out his lip and nodded, then left them to their privacy.
Now Paco found it hard to breathe as he patted his belly. The pizza was great, the best he’d ever had, but at that very moment, he never wanted to see another slice of pizza for the rest of his life. He forced a few burps to relieve some pressure, then walked on his knees toward Sophia.
“We’re gonna need to…burp…change the tape.” With a belly full of greasy bread and cheese, the sight and smell of Sophia’s innards nearly made it all come out in an orange and yellow waterfall.
“I’m sorry, Paco. I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay…I’ll be right back.” He gave her the oversized teddy bear again, then poked his head out of the door, looked both ways. Trying to look casual, he entered his bedroom and went straight for his bag.
What’s the doctor going to say when he sees that her guts are falling out, or that her leg was half eaten, or that her neck is broken?
Paco could only hope that whoever this doctor was, that he would understand, that he would look past all of that and do what he can to help her.
But can she be helped? She’s already dead. There’s no cure for death.
He shook the thoughts from his mind. Stay positive, he thought. Don’t think that way. She’s just sick, that’s all. Dead people can’t think, can’t talk like she can.
The roll of duct tape wasn’t as big as he’d hoped it was. He wasn’t sure if there would be enough to properly wrap her up, but he would just have to make due.
Then he heard the knock on the door. He froze, unable to move, just stared at the door. The knock came again and he realized it was coming from next door. Sophia’s room.
Oh no…oh shit!
“Sophia? Can I come in?” Mr. Harrell’s voice.
“I’m sorry about earlier, sweetie. Just feeling a bit under the weather is all.” Mrs. Harrell’s voice. Something about both of their voices was off to Paco. They sounded go
ofy…intoxicated. They both seemed on the verge of laughing, like they were holding it in.
Snapping out of his panicked trance, Paco stuffed the roll of tape into the back of his pants, took a deep breath, and walked into the hallway.
But Sophia’s door was already open, and the mechanical buzz of Mrs. Harrell’s electric wheelchair vibrated out from inside of the room.
Paco clenched his teeth, ready to hear them scream, ready for him and his sister to be kicked out back on the streets to fend for themselves.
“Oh, you poor dear,” Mrs. Harrell said.
Paco calmly walked into the room, but was unable to relax his jaw. Mr. and Mrs. Harrell stood beside Sophia’s bed. She lay under the covers, her unblinking eyes darting from man to woman, then to Paco as he stepped closer.
“Oh, Paco, hello there,” Mr. Harrell said. “I’ve called the doctor. He’s assured me he’ll be here within a couple of hours.”
“Good…I mean, that’s great. Thank you so much.”
There were some black stains visible on the carpet just beside him, and Paco kicked a plush dog over to cover them.
As Paco watched the Harrells exchange looks of concern for Sophia’s well-being, he saw another change come over them. Mrs. Harrell’s eyes fluttered and she bit her lip, then ran her hands over the tiny mounds that were her breasts. Mr. Harrell licked the front of his teeth, and even from where Paco stood, he could see the erection pushing the man’s pants forward.
“Are you guys…okay?”
It was as if they didn’t hear him. They both sniffed at the air, rubbed themselves.
Their addicts! They don’t just eat their share like Mr. Harrell said…they’re addicted just like everyone else.
“I don’t feel good,” Sophia said. “Can I be alone? Please?”
Mr. Harrell looked down at her with hunger in his eyes, then suddenly he seemed to snap out of it. He hunched his back slightly, obviously trying to hide his bulge, and put on another fake smile. “Y-yes…me and Mrs. Harrell need to take care of something anyway…isn’t that right, dear?”
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