The Complete Bleaker Trilogy Box-set

by Jeremy Peterson

CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Holy Jesus!” Jerry shouted, as the explosion sent a searing fireball of orangey-red flames into the dark sky. Slack-jawed, he stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the flames billowing from the Barrows house.

  The Deputy slammed his fist on the steering wheel, swerving the cruiser. “Goddamn it! I missed it; I’m too late.”

  He pushed his luck and sped down the country road.

  “Call 911!” Trent bellowed, sliding to a stop outside the burning house. “Fire Department and ambulance! And stay here!” Without waiting for an answer, Trent leaped from the car and ran towards the inferno. Fire billowed from the small basement windows and the large picture window on their front porch, ostensibly blocking the main entrance to the house. He called out for both Donny and Vanessa as he ran around the structure, hoping he would find them standing dumb struck (but alive) as their family farm burnt to the ground.

  On his second pass around the house, breathing hard from running through the knee-high snow, he stopped at the back door. If he was really going to try and enter this house to save them, the back door looked like his only option. He could feel the searing heat coming from the house, tightening the flesh of his face, making his scalp grow itchy. Mixed with icy cold wind, the heat and the smoke made him dizzy.

  Trent wiped sooty sweat from his forehead and kicked at the door. It exploded inwards on his first try. There was a clear path into the kitchen, but the flames beyond that point were raging. He took one-step towards the broken entry and froze.

  Go! His mind screamed at him. The Barrows could be breathing their last patch of clean air, but all Trent could do was stand there. Suddenly, he was a young man standing beneath the second Tower as it burned. His friends and colleagues sprinting inside without a second thought. Screaming New Yorkers, crying for help, crying for understanding … or crying for a quick end.

  He didn’t move.

  Just then, the cellar door twenty feet to his right, swung open. It took a moment for Trent to believe it, but out crawled Vanessa Barrows.

  “Jesus Christ! Mrs. Barrows! Here, lemme …” He reached under her arms and helped her to her feet, noticing her favoring her left leg. “Where’s Donny? Is he still down there?”

  “He’s gone,” she croaked.

  “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jerry called the fire department. They should be here any minute.” He continued to lead her towards the cruiser, where Jerry seemed to be following orders for once. She stopped him halfway there, turning to watch her home burn. The fire had consumed the main floor and was now bursting through the roof.

  Jerry raced from the car to help prop up Vanessa’s other shoulder. The three of them stood facing the fire.

  “The fire department should be here any moment, Mrs. Barrows,” Jerry said, mainly because he felt somebody should say something.

  It’s cursed, she thought. Let it burn.

  “Get me outta’ here.”

  The two men did as instructed and helped the wounded Mrs. Barrows to the cruiser. Jerry slid into the back seat with Vanessa and inspected her wounded ankle.

  “It’s no sprain,” he said to Trent in in the front seat, “Definitely broke.”

  “No shit,” Vanessa said.

  “Yes, ma’am. The ambulance will be here real soon, I’m sure.”

  “Forget the damn ambulance. I saw my boy—” She shook her head like a rabid dog.

  “What did you see?” Trent asked, craning his neck to look at the woman in his backseat.

  “It said it was my boy, but I ain’t stupid. Maybe I’m crazy, maybe I’m not …” Vanessa shivered violently despite the heat blasting from the cruiser’s vents.

  The car was silent for what seemed an eternity. Finally, Jerry said, “You ain’t crazy, ma’am. I saw it too. Only for me, it was my Daddy.” The two stared at each other. Neither blinking and barely breathing.

  The fire truck arrived first, but the ambulance wasn’t far behind. As the firemen assessed the blaze, Trent motioned for the EMT’s. Two of them approached, and the one who introduced himself as Ryan, helped the Deputy escort Vanessa into the back of an ambulance. Ryan explained that they would be transferring her to the Sedgwick County Memorial hospital. Before they shut the doors, Vanessa Barrows reached out and grabbed Trent’s hand, “I don’t want to go alone.”

  “I will stay with you,” Jerry said to her, “if you would like.”

  She turned to him and smiled despite the tears, “That would be more than fine.”

  Trent nodded a thank you to Jerry and helped him into the back.

  Before Ryan the EMT could shut the ambulance doors, Vanessa said to the Deputy, “It’s the thing from the video … my son’s video. It’s what killed him … my sweet Leo. And it isn’t done yet.” She waited for the Deputy to respond. When he didn’t, she said, “Deputy, this is real. Do you understand that?”

  Trent looked into her eyes, wilted and then looked away. “I have no idea.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s happening whether you believe it or not. I don’t know if this will ever end, but if you try to stop it … I don’t think it likes fire.” She stared into Trent’s eyes until Ryan finally slammed the doors shut.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “What’s going on, Jill?” Kevin asked.

  “We’re sitting around and wasting time. That’s what’s going on.”

  Kevin sighed, “I mean, what’s happening?” he motioned outside, in the general direction that the Deputy had left in, “Out there. There’s freaking cops in my house, asking me questions, scaring the shit outta’ my mom.”

  “Out of your mom, or out of you?”

  “Fine. I’m a little weirded out, too. Aren’t you?”

  “Kevin, I need to be out there. Trent could be in trouble.”

  “Trent?” Kevin asked.

  “You know … the cop who was just here.”

  “You call the cop by his first name? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?”

  Jill looked at him incredulously. “No. I do not think it’s weird. What’s weird is for you to be okay with being trapped in here.”

  Kevin laughed, “Trapped? This is my house. I live here, I’m not trapped.”

  From outside his room, Kevin could hear the familiar sound of his mother’s footsteps on the basement steps. At that pace, he knew they had about three seconds before—

  A knock at the door and Mrs. Harper asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “We’re good, Ma.”

  She stood on the other side of the closed door, wanting to ask more, wanting to enter the room, but unable to do either. “Okay. Dinner will be ready soon.”

  “Okay,” Kevin said, rolling his eyes. “Thanks.”

  “Jill, is there anything I can get you? Will you be needing a ride later? Kevin’s father will be home real soon and he’ll be able to get you anywhere you need to be.”

  “Cool. Thank you, Mrs. Harper. I will let you know.”

  “Great. But hopefully you can stay for dinner,” Mrs. Harper added.

  “You can stay for dinner, can’t you?” Kevin asked quietly.

  Jill shrugged her shoulders, “I guess … yeah, sure.”

  “She’s staying for dinner, Mom.”

  “Super.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Anything else?”

  Mrs. Harper could read the not-so-subtle hint. She answered in the negative and headed back upstairs, presumably to the kitchen to finish the much-debated dinner.

  Jill paced Kevin’s room, unable to focus on one thing, while Kevin watched from his desk chair.

  “Man, you really are restless, aren’t you?” he asked.

  Jill ignored the question. Or maybe she didn’t hear it. Kevin couldn’t be sure either way.

  “I like your book collection. It’s very … eclectic.” She stood in front of his bookcase, thumbing through his collection.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I only keep the classics in hardcover. EBooks save space.”

  She looked at him dubiously as she pulled ou
t a copy of The Dirt, the authorized autobiography of the rock band Motley Crue. “The Classics, huh?”

  “Dude, that book is sick! There is a ton of good shit in there.”

  “Did you just call me dude?”

  “I’m just saying, that book is dope. You should read it.”

  “It’s the sex, isn’t it? You read it for all the sex, you little pervert.”

  “Whatever,” Kevin said, looking away. He could almost feel the heat from his blushing cheeks.

  She slid the book back into its slot and passed over the Cormack McCarthy titles, skimmed the obligatory King collection, the Chuck Palahniuk’s and Vonnegut’s. She saw some more autobiographies and a few memoirs. Some mysteries and even some true crime.

  “What, no zombie books?” she asked with a smirk on her face.

  “Ha-ha, very funny. Actually, I’ve read World War Z and please, feel free to make fun all you want. That book is bad ass.”

  “I saw the movie,” Jill offered, “I liked it.”

  “Nothing like the movie. And I mean nothing. I mean—” He stopped to take a breath, “You know what? Never mind. We don’t have all day.”

  “Okay, gee. What’s your problem?” She abandoned his books and looked around the rest of his room. “Where is your music collection?”

  “On my IPod. Where else would it be? You think I’ve got a stack of vinyl records or cases of bootleg Grateful Dead cassettes like some hipster or something?”

  “Oh, right, the IPod saves space.”

  “Yes it does. Exactly. People collect a lot of weird shit, don’t you think?”

  “I never really thought about it. I guess.” She chuckled, “My Grandma collects plates. She has seventy-seven of them. She mounted them on the wall in the kitchen … has so many that they’ve started to invade the living room. They’re so stupid. Hell, I don’t think even she cares about ‘em anymore. They don’t look like they’ve been dusted in a decade.”

  “That’s what I mean. I’d rather collect memories.”

  Jill looked at him with a crooked smile, and he shook his head defensively. “I know, that makes me sound like a pussy, doesn’t it?”

  She laughed and then it was her turn to shake her head. “No, it doesn’t make you a pussy. You don’t really sound like a teenager though, either.”

  Kevin shrugged.

  “But that’s probably a good thing,” she finished.

  He blushed and looked away. After a moment of silence, Kevin asked, “Where are you gonna’ go … when my dad gets home?”

  “Don’t know. Are you sure he’s coming back?”

  “Uh, I guess. What do you mean? Why wouldn’t he?”

  “It’s like the storm of the century out there. And you said he works in Sidney, right?”

  “Yeah, but he drives a four-wheel drive.”

  “Of course he does,” she said. “Plus, some guys use the weather excuse to … you know …”

  Kevin furled his eyebrow. “No, I don’t know. Fill me in.”

  “Relax. I’m sure he’ll be here. He sounds like a great guy.”

  Kevin laughed. “I haven’t told you anything about him.”

  “But he is a great guy, right? He wouldn’t have some side bitty in Sidney or somewhere in between. Some little twit that isn’t anything special, except that she ain’t your Mom.”

  “Jesus Christ, why the hell would you ask that?”

  “Because I’m an asshole. Please, don’t listen to me. I’m a mess.”

  “You’re a mess? What’s the matter? Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “Jill, you can tell me. I mean it, seriously, if there is—”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it!” she screamed.

  Kevin flinched. He stared at her with his mouth still open from the words left unsaid. He vaguely heard his mother’s feet pounding on the steps.

  “Kevin? Jill? Is everything okay in there?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jill said, “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It’s been a long day.”

  Mrs. Harper finally decided she was done talking to the closed door. She turned the knob and walked in. “Well, hon, I’m afraid it’s about to get even longer.” She looked to Kevin and continued, “Your father called. He’s stuck in Sidney due to the roads. The Interstate is closed. He’s gonna’ stay at the office.”

  Kevin looked at Jill and swallowed hard. When she returned the look, he turned away.

  “That’s good,” Jill said, “the roads are a mess out there. He’d be crazy to take that chance.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Mrs. Harper said. “But, Jill, I’m sorry about your ride.”

  “Oh forget it. I’ll … figure something out.”

  “Yeah, well, dinner is about done. Why don’t you two come up and join me. I could use the help setting the table.”

  “Ooh, table setting,” Jill said. “Just like on TV.”

  Mrs. Harper raised an eyebrow and then shook it off, deciding not to press her luck with the unusual teenage girl.

  “Come on, Kevin; let’s go help your Mom.” She flashed a wide smile to both Harpers.

  Upstairs, Kevin’s Mom served a tossed salad followed by spaghetti and meatballs.

  “The pasta is really good,” Jill said.

  “Oh, thank you, Jill. It was Kevin’s favorite when he was a little boy. He would eat it like it was going out of style.”

  “Great, Mom, thanks. Let’s change the subject, eh?” Kevin flushed red. Part embarrassment and part anger. Kevin grew up the fat kid in school and had only lost all the weight in the last year and a half. He still thought of himself as a fat kid (and probably always would), and he figured most of his classmates did too; he didn’t need his mother telling his crush that he couldn’t stop stuffing his face with spaghetti and meatballs.

  Jesus Christ, Mom.

  “I don’t blame him,” Jill said. “It’s really good. We don’t do the three course meals at my house much.” She popped a marinara-soaked bread stick into her mouth and bit off the end. She looked around the table and saw them both staring at her. “We do a lot of takeout and prepared stuff … which is a fancy way of saying frozen pizza.”

  “It’s not that fancy,” Kevin said, and Jill smiled at him.

  “Kevin, that’s rude,” his Mom said.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re right, it’s very unfancy.”

  The two shared another smile

  “So, Jill,” Mrs. Harper began, “does your Mom work in town, or …” Her words slowed until they ran out and stopped altogether. An awkward silence filled the room while Kevin’s mom waited patiently for the young lady to do the proper thing and answer the unasked question, and in the process, save Mrs. Harper the awkwardness of having to ask. And eventually, after enjoying a few moments of dead air, Jill put Mrs. Harper out of her misery.

  “No, my Mom doesn’t work in town. She’s not here anymore. I live with my Grandma.”

  “Oh, that’s—”

  “Yeah, no, it’s good. It’s all good. We do alright.”

  Mrs. Harper tapped at the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkins that sat next to each table setting. “I’m very sorry to hear about your mother. I can imagine how difficult it must be to lose a parent.”

  “Oh, no, she’s not dead … I don’t think. She just took off. Gramma says Tennessee, but who knows. She might just be making that up.” She looked from one generation of Harper to the next and hated the pity she saw in their eyes. Although a part of her loved to see the pity and needed it to be there. The other half hated herself for needing anything.

  The three of them finished dinner with little small talk. Kevin wanted seconds, and his mother tried to insist, but he refused.

  Of course, Fat Kevin would want seconds, right?

  “Oh, honey,” Kevin’s mother said, “it’s your favorite, let me get you another plate.”

  “Jesus Christ, why don’t you just
bring me out the whole pan? Maybe that will finally be enough for me?” He stood up from the table with only a quick shameful glance in Jill’s direction, before turning away and stomping down the stairs towards his domain.

  His mother stood at the stove with the look of someone who just got sucker-punched by their own best friend.

  Jill cleared her throat and said, “It is really good, Mrs. Harper … really good.”

  “I guess I embarrassed him,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “That was pretty stupid, eh?” She let out a short humorless laugh, before hanging her head in her hands. “In front of anyone that was bad, but especially you, Jill. I just feel terrible—”

  “Please don’t. It’s no big deal … wait, what? What do you mean ‘Especially me?’”

  “Oh, honey, can’t you tell?” Kevin’s mother glanced around nervously and then spoke just above a whisper, “He’s got quite the crush on you … has for years. Here I go again with my mouth. Don’t you dare tell him I told you this.”

  Jill sighed. “No, I won’t say anything.” She looked away from Kevin’s mother and visibly squirmed in her seat. “Shit,” she muttered, standing up from the dinner table. “I should go talk to him.” She phrased her words as a statement, but the look on her face suggested it was really a question. Kevin’s mother noticed.

  “That may be a good idea. Be careful, hon.”

  Jill excused herself from the kitchen and walked slowly down the steps toward Kevin’s room. His door was open, and she stepped inside.

  “Hey, Kevin.”

  He stood with his back to her, hunched over his desk. He spoke without turning to face her. “Sorry about that,” he said.

  “Naw, no reason to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Finally, he turned to look at her. “I don’t know about that …”

  She shrugged. “But listen, I think you are a great guy and all, but—”

  “Oh my God! What did my Mom say?”

  “What? Nothing … nothing at all.”

  Kevin raked his fingers through his hair as he paced across the floor.

  “What can I say?” he said, finally coming to a stop. He buried his hands in his pockets. “This is really fucking embarrassing.”