Slaughter Series

by A. I. Nasser

  “So you’re telling me this is all innocent, that there’s nothing else going on?”

  Deborah felt his words cut right through her, suddenly incredibly angry at his insinuation that she would somehow be unfaithful. She wasn’t lying to herself. Michael was less than perfect, and she couldn’t deny her need to break up what was obviously a very unhealthy relationship. But, she would never cheat. The fact that he even thought she might made it that much worse.

  “I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice suddenly low, a clear indicator that she had already made up her mind about what needed to be done. She had had enough of this.

  “See it from where I’m standing, Debbie,” Michael said. “I know how close the two of you were back then. How do you expect me to feel when I find out he’s been back for days, works at your school, and you said nothing about it to me?”

  “Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?” Deborah muttered.

  “That’s not the –”

  “Have I?” Deborah’s shouted, her voice ringing across the apartment walls, her anger cutting like a knife through the heavy tension between them.

  Michael looked at her long and hard, his scowl a reflection of how he felt about being yelled at. “I’m not going to wait for it,” he said.

  “Get out,” Deborah said, her voice firm as she stared at the man she had once thought she could spend the rest of her life with. “This is over. I want you out.”

  Michael stopped mid-stride and gazed at her. His cheeks quickly flushed and his eyes shot daggers at her from across the room. She could see that he had so much more to say, but she had no intention of giving him the chance.

  “I’ll be back for my things in the morning,” Michael finally said, and without so much as a second glance, brushed past her and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

  Deborah waited until she was satisfied he wouldn’t return before falling to her knees in tears.

  ***

  Alan had been hard at work in the garage, sifting through the copies he had made the other day, when the doorbell rang.

  It was nearly seven in the evening, and the day had gone by quite uneventfully. He had been worried someone might have noticed something amiss, that maybe he had forgotten a small detail that might give away the fact that there had been a break in the night before.

  The worry hung over him all through the day, and although he had done his best to appear normal, even spending some time with Deborah during recess reminiscing about the old days, it was only when the final bell rang that relief finally washed over him.

  He had come straight home, exhausted after having had spent the entire night hidden in the locker and a complete morning of run-on classes. A quick shower and two cups of instant coffee had helped, but he could still feel his muscles ache and his joints protest from the strain. Nevertheless, he had forced himself to continue working, and had been halfway through the final file when the doorbell interrupted him.

  Alan’s initial smile at seeing Deborah quickly vanished when he noticed her blood shot eyes and the lack of regular light make-up. She was dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, an oversized coat wrapping her lean body, and her hair was tied back in a quick ponytail through which strands had escaped and now hung wildly about her face. She looked at him solemnly, and he could tell that this wasn’t a casual, friendly visit.

  “What’s wrong?” Alan asked, instantly alert.

  Deborah sniffed and looked up, quickly brushing away a tear. “You know what, Alan?” she said softly. “Sometimes it’s just good manners to let your visitors in before starting a conversation.”

  Alan quickly stepped aside, apologizing as he grabbed her by the shoulder and led her into the house. Closing the door behind them, he led her straight to the kitchen and sat her down at the small table, quickly moving to the kettle and switching it on before rummaging through the cabinets for mugs.

  “I might just need something stronger than that,” Deborah said from behind him.

  “I’d love to deliver, but I haven’t really been doing much shopping.”

  “I’m not going to bring you groceries every day, Carter,” Deborah smiled. “Besides, alcohol should have been the first thing on your list.”

  “Never was much of a drinker,” Alan shrugged, eager to stop beating around the bushes and find out why she was here, looking like she had been told the worst news. Still, he knew Deborah usually needed space before opening up, and from the looks of it, that hadn’t changed over the years. She was still in the habit of covering up her sorrow with wit.

  Alan filled their mugs with coffee and escorted Deborah into the living room, offering her a seat on the couch as he settled comfortably in the old rocking chair his father had loved to sit in when he read. They sat quietly for a few minutes before Deborah finally broke the silence.

  “I broke up with my boyfriend.”

  “Didn’t know you had one,” Alan replied, wincing after he said it. It was probably not the reply she was going for, but when he looked at her, her eyes downcast and her concentration solely on the mug in her hands, he realized that she might not have even noticed.

  “Michael Cole,” she said after a few more seconds of silence, letting the name roll off her tongue.

  “Chairman Cole’s son?” Alan asked, a slight smile of disbelief creeping onto his face. “Really? Isn’t he way out of your league?”

  Deborah smiled at him, and Alan felt relieved that he could still make her laugh even now. She had never mentioned Michael Cole to him, and he believed it had a lot to do with what had eventually happened to their relationship. If it had been sunny in paradise, Alan was sure he would have known.

  “Was it serious?” Alan asked, taking a sip from his coffee.

  “Define serious.”

  “Wedding bells and baby names.”

  “Then no, it wasn’t serious,” Deborah said. “It wasn’t going to last much longer anyway. I had been working my way to breaking it off, I just couldn’t find the right opportunity.”

  “What changed?”

  Deborah looked up at him, hesitating for a few seconds before finally saying, “You.”

  Alan frowned. “Me?”

  “Believe it or not, you actually helped me indirectly,” Deborah nodded. “I guess I have to thank you for that. I just don’t understand why it feels so goddamn shitty.”

  “All break-ups do, no matter how bad things had become,” Alan said.

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “I never had a serious relationship,” Alan shrugged. “I could say I did if it would make you feel better.”

  Deborah laughed. “You’re really something, Carter, you know that?”

  “Enough to break up relationships, apparently.”

  Deborah chuckled as she drank from her coffee, drawing her legs up and curling them under her as she shifted into a more comfortable position. Her eyes scanned the living room, and she smiled when she saw the picture frames on the old fireplace.

  “Was that from Little League?” she asked, gesturing with her chin at the mantel piece.

  Alan searched for the picture she meant and found the one with both of them together, arms over each other’s shoulders, smiling at the camera with their Little League baseball caps askew. He smiled at the memory.

  “Yeah,” he said, remembering that his sister had been the one to take that particular picture. “Happier times.”

  “What ever happened to the kids in that photo?”

  “What the hell is wrong with us now?”

  Deborah raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed in response. “It’s been a rocky road, I guess.”

  “You know what really ended things with Michael?” Deborah asked. “He thought there was something going on between us.”

  “What would make him think that?”

  Deborah shrugged. ‘I hadn’t told him you were back,” she said. “I guess that made him skeptical.”

  “Yup, that would do it,�
� Alan chuckled.

  He gazed at her as she continued her inspection of his home, his eyes drawn to her and the calm she brought with her presence. The large house was daunting sometimes, and it was refreshing having someone over, especially Deborah. Maybe if things weren’t so complicated, he might have toyed with the possibility of the two of them being together. But he couldn’t see anything good coming out of it now, with what he had to do.

  He thought back to last night and the information he had gotten out of her mother’s safe. It was hard to believe that the woman sitting across from him could have anything to do with the evil this town had given into. She looked so innocent, fragile even, and he couldn’t believe she would be capable of anything he was secretly accusing her mother of.

  Deborah caught him staring and smiled at him. “Watch it,” she said. “I’m vulnerable.”

  Alan almost dropped the mug in his hands as he broke into a fit of laughter, instantly joined by Deborah.

  “Fine, then I’ll keep my distance,” Alan said through tears. “Just don’t blame me for trying.”

  They spent the rest of the night talking, and soon enough, Alan had forgotten all about the work he had planned to do, lost in the sheer joy of having Deborah around. They recounted childhood adventures, filled each other in on various aspects of their lives over the past twenty years and joked about fellow colleagues. It was only when the old grandfather clock down the hall began to chime did they both realize that it had gotten late.

  Deborah quickly sat up and placed her cup on the coffee table, pulling her coat closed around her. “I have to get back,” she said. “Sorry I kept you up so long.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Alan said quickly. “Spend the night, and I’ll drive you home in the morning for anything you need before work.”

  “I can’t, Alan, really,” Deborah protested weakly, and Alan could sense the last thing the woman wanted was to spend the night alone. She was too proud to admit it.

  “I insist, Debbie,” Alan said. “You can sleep in my old room.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Of course not,” Alan smiled. “That’s why I’m making the decision for you.”

  ***

  Alan Carter fought the need to sleep.

  For starters, he didn’t want to revisit his nightmares, the memory of his last run-in with the past a sharp reminder of why he had always preferred living alone. Thankfully his night in the locker room had been uncomfortable enough to constantly wake him up, but he couldn’t be sure that tonight would be the same. With Deborah sleeping in the next room, he was reluctant to wake up in a screaming fit that would scare her half to death.

  It was hard to stay awake, though, and his lids felt like lead slabs over his eyes. As the minutes ticked by, it became harder and harder to stay awake. Soon enough, he gave in, slowly drifting away, unable to fight it anymore.

  The sound of his bedroom door opening brought him back out of his slow descent into slumber, and in the dark he could see Deborah’s figure softly cross to his bed and slide under the covers beside him. She moved in close, resting her head against his chest as he adjusted his arms around her.

  Her breathing was soft, and he could barely feel her heartbeat against his body.

  “Can’t sleep, either, huh?” he whispered.

  Deborah clicked her tongue and pressed up closer to him. “I guess I just got used to someone sleeping next to me.”

  “Are you comparing me to Michael?” Alan asked, looking down at her as she smiled and tapped her fingers against his chest.

  Deborah moved her head slightly so that her eyes met his, and before he knew what was happening, she was kissing him, softly, a light brush against his lips.

  He pulled back. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Shut up, Alan,” Deborah smiled and kissed him again.

  This time, he kissed back.

  From the Journal of Jeremiah Carter.

  Melington. October 9th, 1826.

  Abbey has been acting strangely these past few days.

  I first noticed it when she had suddenly taken it upon herself to clean out Allison’s room. It was an odd endeavor, one I had not believed she could muster the courage to do. Yet, she did, and I found the ordeal both strange and brave. I myself have found it quite difficult to venture into my daughter’s room, the memories of her playing on her bed, silently lost in her own imagination, too much for me to bear.

  However, Abbey has proven to be much stronger than me.

  My wife has fallen silent again, but not as before. It is a different kind of silence, one of a person deep in thought. I have never seen her this way, her brow furrowed in concentration as if she were solving complicated worldly problems while working in the kitchen or hanging out the sheets.

  I have thought of asking her about it, curious as to what was going through her head, but I believe it will amount to nothing. I know my Abbey well. When she decides it is time to share her thoughts with me, she will seek me out. It is just a matter of time.

  Chairman Cole passed by the house today, and unlike my wife, Abbey had not offered that he stay for dinner. Quite surprisingly, she avoided the man completely, and I wonder if it may be because of his lack of taking any serious action towards my suspicions. I found it quite amusing, seeing the discomfort on Cole’s face as he talked to me about the next Council meeting’s agenda, watching Abbey from the corner of his eye and confused about her coldness towards him.

  I have never loved my wife more.

  I do not believe I will be attending the next Council meeting. It is absurd to waste any more of my time discussing useless matters, when all any of us is truly thinking about is justice. I believe I will only make the trek to the Council when it is time to truly decide on the fate of Copper Tibet, and not before that. I have wasted enough time amongst men who do nothing but talk, and do not back their words with action.

  I believe I will do the same as my wife. I will wait until my daughter’s death is avenged before I act more amiably towards this town and its members.

  Chapter 12

  Rachel Adams rarely had a good night’s sleep.

  Often enough, her dreams would take her to the most obscure places of her mind, where the secrets she kept hidden ultimately popped out of their hiding places and danced about cheerfully. It was a constant reminder of all the wrongs she had done, and it was a miracle when she got more than three hours of sleep altogether.

  Tonight, though, it was her cell phone that woke her up from one of her rare, deep slumbers, and she immediately reached out for it with half a mind to berate whoever was calling. Daniel Cole’s number on her ID made her sit up quickly, and a part of her suddenly went cold.

  “What’s wrong?” Rachel asked immediately after swiping the answer key. Daniel never called this late unless something was seriously amiss.

  “Doctor Fanning is gone,” Daniel’s tired voice echoed eerily. He sounded like he had been to hell and back.

  Rachel didn’t know how to reply, shivering as if a cold finger were running down her spine. Without Fanning, so much would change, and not for the better.

  Especially not for her.

  “No,” Rachel said immediately, knowing what was coming next.

  “This isn’t a choice,” Daniel’s voice sounded frustrated. “I don’t like it any more than you do.”

  “We can’t do this,” she said. “Not again. Not so soon.”

  She could hear Daniel take in a deep breath, trying to control his temper against her objections. “Do you prefer the alternative?” he hissed.

  “We’re not working in the dark anymore, Daniel,” Rachel said. “Alan Carter’s in town. They’ll notice.”

  “Then you better make sure you handle it well,” Daniel said. “Go through the files, pick one, and let me know. We’ll see what we can work out.”

  Rachel tried to think of an alternative to what the Chairman was asking, but her mind was blank. It was supposed to Fan
ning’s turn, and that rat bastard had skipped town.

  “Is there anyone else at the hospital?” Rachel asked, reaching.

  “Stop it!” Daniel hissed. “This is the only way. Do you think I’d be making this call if it weren’t?”

  Of course you would, Rachel thought, but kept her musings to herself.

  “Find one, Rachel,” Daniel said, “and hurry up about it. We only have two weeks to plan this right.”

  ***

  Deborah opened her eyes to sunlight pouring in through the small crack between the drapes. She took in a deep breath, yawned, and turned around under the sheets, looking at Alan as he slept beside her. She smiled to herself, watching him for a moment before rolling out of bed and reaching for her panties.

  She tried to be as quiet as possible, opting to use the hall bathroom instead of the one in the room so she wouldn’t wake Alan up. She washed her face, letting the cold water fully wake her, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. A smile quickly made its way to her face, and she ruffled her hair as she made her way downstairs.

  Deborah felt incredible.

  She replayed last night in her head, Alan’s touch, the way he looked at her, how she felt as they lay next to each other when all was done. She had fallen asleep quickly, comfortably, never having felt this good before. Alan’s gentle heartbeats and measured breathing was all it took to soothe her and make her completely forget about her fight with Michael.

  And it felt right.

  They had always been close, she and Alan, friends for life as they had been prone to saying. When he had first come in for his interview, she had immediately felt that pang of attraction, that little flutter in her chest, and had quickly pushed it aside. She had always regarded him as a friend. A close friend, but just a friend. She never imagined it would come to what it had last night, but being with Alan felt right.

  Deborah hummed to herself as she made her way into the kitchen, her bare feet cold against the floor, but her spirits warming her up. She had no idea where last night would take them, or exactly how Alan would react to it all when he woke up. She hoped he felt the same way she did, otherwise their friendship would turn into something extremely awkward and uncomfortable.