by Lee Goldberg
Along the way he noticed more pictures on the wall. Lots more. They had been there the other night, of course, but he hadn't paid any attention to them. Now that he looked, they were all of Abbey and various men. There was one of her and Dale, obviously only a few years old, and one of her and another man that, by their clothes, looked like it was taken in the seventies. Beyond that was another picture of her in front of the old car lot with the man she claimed was her husband, Clark. And beyond that were many more. All of them showed Abbey as one half of a smiling couple through the decades. There was even one done in the very old style, with the man sitting in a chair while Abbey stood behind him with her hand on his shoulder. The clothing looked to be from around the early 1900s.
Jesus. How old was she?
Matt stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking back at the line of pictures. Was that what was in store for him? Would he someday have a hallway full of old photos, too? Not if I let her kill me tonight, he thought, forcing his mind back to the present. The implications of Abbey's pictures would have to wait. First he had to stop her from killing Annie. He walked the rest of the hallway's length. It ended at the bedroom door.
Matt put his hand on the doorknob, then took a deep breath, and turned it. He pushed open the bedroom door a half inch at a time, waiting for the gunshot that would end his life. When it didn't come, he opened the door the whole way.
There was Annie, gagged and tied to the bed but very much alive, despite a few cuts across her chest that oozed blood onto her shredded T-shirt. Matt breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God you're all right."
Annie's eyes grew wide when she saw Matt, and she tried to mumble something under the gag, but Matt couldn't make it out. He crossed the room and leaned over the bed, putting his finger to his lips.
"She's still here somewhere," Matt whispered. "I'm gonna undo your gag, but you have to keep quiet, okay? Nod if you understand me."
She nodded.
"Good," Matt said, and he reached over and pulled the gag down over her chin. "That better?"
"Yeah," she said. "That bitch is fucking crazy. Get me the hell outta here."
"I will. Just give me a second." Matt tried to undo the knots on the ropes. His wrist flared with pain. He gritted his teeth and tried again but soon realized he couldn't maneuver his fingers while holding the gun, so he set it on the nightstand. "You let me know if you see her, okay?"
"You got it, man."
Matt went to work on the knots, but he couldn't loosen them. Abbey had tied them very tight. He could probably get them if he had an hour to spare, but he didn't. "Shit."
"There's a knife in the top drawer of her nightstand," Annie said. "It's the one she used to cut me."
Matt opened the drawer and grabbed the knife. The smell of decay hung in the room like an invisible fog. Abbey must really be rotting, he thought. I can still smell her in here. He knelt beside the bed and sawed through the rope on Annie's right wrist. Then he went to cut the one at her feet. As he moved, he caught another whiff of the decay. It smelled strong. Too strong.
Annie shifted in the bed and Matt caught a glimpse of the girl's skin beneath her torn pants. He stopped sawing through the rope and stared at the greenish, oozing skin hidden under Annie's clothes. No wonder the smell had been so strong.
"I should have known," he said, just before the gun barrel poked him in the side of the head.
"Finish cutting," Annie instructed, punctuating her words by jabbing the barrel into Matt's temple. Matt resumed sawing the knife through the rope, trying to think of a way to dodge a bullet from point-blank range.
"I got him, Abbey!" Annie yelled.
From somewhere deep in the house, Abbey's voice floated into the bedroom. "I'm coming."
"How long?" Matt asked, still sawing through the rope. "How long have you and Abbey been working together?"
"Since the beginning," she said. "Right after she came down from Kentucky."
"Abbey's not even her real name, is it?"
"Fuck if I know. Fuck if I care. That pussy's so good, she could call herself Fred Flintstone if she wanted. You just get back to cuttin' that rope before I spray your brains all over the wall behind you."
Matt cut through the rope on her right leg and moved to the one tied to her left. "Bitch sure can tie a knot," he muttered.
Annie smiled and ran her tongue across her upper lip. "That ain't all she can do."
Too true, Matt thought.
Abbey stepped into the room carrying Matt's ax. Her face was half eaten away with rot, and Matt could see her lower teeth and part of her jawbone though the dead tissue on her cheek. The smell was overpowering, and he swallowed the urge to vomit. He didn't want to look at her. How had she hidden the decay from him while they were... He couldn't even finish the thought.
"I knew you'd come to save her" Abbey said, pointing at Annie.
"What do you mean?" Matt asked.
"We watched that spineless husband of mine drop you off at the store," she said. "I knew you were there. But I needed you here, out in the country, where no one would hear anything."
So the whole conversation back at Abbey's Antiques was for his benefit. Another trap. "And I fell right into it," he said.
"You sure did," Annie giggled. "She told me you would."
Abbey smiled. "Toss the knife aside, Matt," she said.
"Tell her not to shoot me." Matt glanced at Annie, who was still pointing the gun at Matt's head.
Abbey set the ax in the corner of the room, then walked around the bed, giving Matt a wide berth. She stopped on the other side of the bed and held out her hand to Annie. "Give it to me," she said.
Annie looked disappointed. "But I wanted to do this one."
"He's mine," Abbey said, her face stern. "You can finish off my sorry-ass excuse for a husband. Give me the gun."
Annie handed the pistol over. Abbey took it and pointed it at Matt's chest. "Don't worry, hon," she said to Annie. "You'll get to decide head or gut. I'm just gonna be the one to pull the trigger."
That made Annie smile, and she was about to open her mouth, but Abbey cut her off. "Not yet," she said. "Think about it for a minute."
She nodded and smiled at Matt. Head or gut. If Matt had to choose, he'd rather get shot in the head. It would take less time to die. But one look at Annie's subtle smirk told him the girl from McDonald's had already made up her mind, and it didn't jibe with Matt's preference.
Abbey walked back around to the front of the room, keeping the gun pointed at Matt the whole way. "The knife?" she asked.
Matt tossed the knife to the side of the room, thus relinquishing his only weapon. He eyed the blade as it lay on the carpet, glinting red in the light of Abbey's bedroom.
She stepped in front of him and squatted down, bringing her face level to his, and poked the pistol into his chest. Her shoulder where he'd shot her was wrapped with a bandage that had started to bleed through already. She wouldn't be using that arm for a while. From this vantage point, he could see that the rotten green patch had spread all the way to her chest. It disappeared under her shirt, leaving Matt to wonder how far it went. If she took off her shirt, would he see her ribs? He decided he didn't want to know, but it did bring up an interesting question.
"How did you hide them?" he asked.
"The sores?" Abbey replied. "It's easy. Live long enough and you'll figure it out," she finished with a mischievous wink. Matt knew what it meant. He wouldn't live long enough to figure out what to have for breakfast tomorrow, let alone how a person could hide sores.
Abby reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look her in the face. "So, did you miss me, baby?" she asked.
"Doesn't look like it," Matt replied, nodding towards her shoulder.
Abbey smiled, revealing a mouth full of blackened gums and rotting teeth. "Clever," she said. Then she leaned in close so she could whisper in his ear. "But you shouldn't have done that. I was going to let you live."
"Bullshit."
; Abbey pulled away, a wounded expression on her face. "It's true. I thought we were kindred spirits. Soul mates, even. Even though you went running after Brad like some goddamn knight in shining armor. Why? To save that whore wife of his? She deserved it. She's been fucking everything that moves for years. But even then I thought I could change your outlook, given enough time. Then you shot me. I could have dealt with you being a white hat, but I draw the line at letting you get away with shooting me."
"I don't believe you."
"Who gives a fuck what you believe?" she said. Then she turned to Annie. "Okay, sweetheart, did you choose? Head or gut?"
"Gut," Annie said without a moment's hesitation.
Matt groaned.
"Gut it is," Abbey said. She lifted the revolver and pointed it at Annie, who stared back in shock and fear.
"What are you—"
The sound of two shots fired in rapid succession cut her off, and her question turned into a howl of pain as two slugs tore into her abdomen. Her left arm and leg were still tied to the bedposts, preventing her from curling into a fetal position, but she slapped her right hand on to her belly in a vain attempt to hold her life's blood inside her ruptured gut. She stared at Abbey, her face a mixture of pain and confusion, and started to babble incoherently. The words were too garbled for Matt to make them out, but the meaning was clear.
"Hey, don't blame me." Abbey shrugged. "You're the one who picked gut." Then she pointed the gun back at Matt. "I've got two bullets left," she said. "Before I kill you, I think I owe you one."
She pointed the gun at Matt's shoulder and fired. The sound rang through the small room like thunder, and Matt screamed as fire punched him in the shoulder and stayed there to burn. He brought his hand up to stem the flow of blood and gasped in pain.
Being shot fucking hurt!
"Smarts a bit, doesn't it?" Abbey said, chuckling.
"Fuck off."
"You deserve it. You shot me first."
Matt wanted to point out that she'd almost blasted him to bloody bits outside long before he'd shot her but didn't figure it would do any good.
Abbey squatted down in front of him again and shook her head. "Such a waste," she said. "We've been waiting for you, you know."
"Why me?"
"Not you specifically. A drifter. Someone who doesn't belong. Someone no one would trust. Why do you think Annie worked that shitty-ass job? She's been keeping her eyes peeled for someone like you to come along. We were beginning to give up hope. When you stepped into the restaurant, with your line about 'just passing through,' she almost jumped for joy. She couldn't wait to tell me about you."
"I don't understand," Matt replied.
"Yes, you do."
"He probably doesn't," came a familiar voice from out in the hall. Mr. Dark stepped into the bedroom, a red lollipop in his mouth and a hideous grin on his face. "He's really quite simple, you know."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Matt stared at Mr. Dark for a few heartbeats, then looked back to Abbey and shook his head. "Is anything you've told me true?"
"Oh, don't look so surprised," Abbey said. "You should listen to him sometime. He's brilliant. Hell, he's been around forever and knows just about everything there is to know. He even knows a lot about you, Matt. In fact, he told me you'd never go for this."
"I sure did," Mr. Dark said. "Did I call that one, or what?"
"Yes, you did," she said, then looked back at Matt. "Like I said. It's a shame."
"Go for what?" Then Matt understood. The van, the escalation of the attacks, the fake divorce, even killing Annie. "You're leaving," he said. "And you wanted me to come with you."
Mr. Dark smiled again, and Abbey leaned over and kissed Matt on the forehead. A loud, wet smack that made him want to wipe his brow. Her lips felt like a pair of rotting leeches. The last thing he wanted was to die with any of her goop on him.
"If you hadn't shot me, I'd be fucking your brains out right now," Abbey said, much to Mr. Dark's amusement. "I hope you remember that."
Matt stared at the gun in her hand. The gun with only one bullet left. It had his fingerprints all over it. When forensics pulled the bullets out of Annie's gut and Matt's skull, they would be a match. He doubted there would even be much of an investigation. Here he was, a drifter, who just happened to come through town and fuck a local cop's wife. All Abbey had to do now was finish off Dale. Then, with the cop dead and the wife missing, they would look at Matt as the prime suspect.
He thought about his call to the police. He'd asked for Dale and refused to talk to the receptionist. That would look bad. The local police would think he and Annie set the whole thing up to kill Dale, but something had gone wrong. Still, it didn't quite add up, and Matt knew why.
"But you shot Dale with the shotgun," Matt said. "My prints aren't on that."
"Nope," Abbey agreed, "but soon hers will be." She nodded to Annie, who grunted a weak reply. "Sorry, sweetheart. It would have been gut no matter what you picked. I needed you to stay alive long enough to grip the shotgun." Abbey winked.
"Fuuuuuuh yooooo," Annie wheezed.
"Not likely," Abbey replied, then turned her attention back to Matt. "Your prints are all over that knife," she said. "That'll be interesting. Especially when the police match it to eight of the Blake County Killer's victims. You'll be famous all over again."
"But what about you? When they don't find you here, they'll know you were part of this."
"Oh, they'll find my body in a few weeks. It'll be floating down Black Creek. One last victim of the Blake County Killer. They might be surprised to find it with a full set of ID, but at least that should make it easier for them, since they won't be able to identify the face."
By then no one would even be looking for it. Matt knew how small towns worked. He grew up in one. He was just a drifter. No one knew him, but by tomorrow morning half the town would swear they'd seen him around the last few years but never thought anything about it. He'd be found guilty post mortem, and that would be it. Then Abbey would find another partner in another city and start all over again, this time with help from Mr. Dark.
Like she needed it.
"So, Matt," Abbey said, raising the gun to his forehead. "Mr. Dark here is pretty anxious to get this over with. Is there anything else you'd like to say before I kill you? Make it good, now."
"Just one last question," Matt said.
"What is it?"
The sound of sirens came to them, warbling and loud. Above, the steady chop of a helicopter could be heard, its rotors getting louder and louder by the second. Matt smiled.
"Did you check your phone?" he asked.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Abbey cocked her head to the side, a frown on her rotting features. The sirens grew louder by the second.
"Your hall phone is off the hook, Abbey," Matt said. "I wonder why."
Understanding lit Abbey's face. "You asshole."
Matt nodded. "I'm not that dumb. They'll be here soon, too. You wanna get out of here? Better do it quick."
"My, my." Mr. Dark grinned at Matt and winked. "That was quite clever."
Abbey turned to face Mr. Dark, probably intending to tell him to shut the fuck up. Matt would never know what she was about to say, because he seized her momentary distraction and grabbed the gun. Abbey jerked her hand back, but Matt held his grip, and the two of them wrestled with the pistol while the sirens approached. Matt's finger inadvertently closed on the cylinder release and for a moment it came free, but Abbey put her hand on it and forced it back into the body of the gun with a click, pinching Matt's palm in the process.
Matt was stronger than Abbey, his body hardened by years of heavy manual labor, but Abbey was faster. She twisted to the side and launched a straight kick to Matt's face. Matt was able to jump aside, but the blow hit him in his wounded shoulder. The flash of pain that rolled over him made the initial gunshot feel like a paper cut. He lost his grip on the gun and fell to the floor, trying to clear the stars from his visio
n.
When his vision cleared, Abbey was standing over him, the gun pointed right at his temple. Mr. Dark was nowhere to be seen.
"See you in hell," Abbey said. Her voice sounded muffled, probably because of the maggots chewing on her tongue. She pulled the trigger.
Click!
Abbey stared at the gun in her hands, the question forming on her rotting lips. "What the fuck?" She pulled the trigger again.
Click!
Matt held up his clenched hand and slowly opened it, allowing Abbey to see the bullet he'd managed to palm during the struggle. He smiled as he let it drop on the floor.
Just then, two police officers burst into the bedroom, pistols drawn and pointed right at Abbey's chest.
"Drop the gun," one of them yelled.
Abbey turned to face them and dropped the pistol to the floor. "Thank God you're here, officers," she said. "I caught this asshole breaking in. He shot Annie Jordan, but I was able to—"
"Save it," the officer said. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back."
"But I—"
"Now!"
Abbey turned around to face Matt, who watched as the officer walked up behind her and pulled what looked like a thick plastic zip tie from his belt. Better than handcuffs, he thought.
"We found Dale," the officer said to Abbey. "Alive. He told us everything. Next time you shoot a cop, make sure you kill him. Otherwise he's just gonna put the finger on you."
"I'll take that under advisement," Abbey said. The look on her face could have cracked granite.
Just as the cop was about to bind her wrists, Abbey spun into a low kick that sent him to the floor. The other cop fired his weapon, but the shot went wide and thudded into the wall behind Matt. Faster than Matt could follow, Abbey grabbed the gun from the downed officer and fired a round at the cop who was still on his feet, hitting him square in the chest. He flew backward into the hall as Abbey readjusted her aim and pointed the gun at the prone officer's head.
