Bad Billy

by Jimmy M. F. Pudge

  “Please. . . let me go.” She struggled to say those words. She struggled to breath.

  His hand caressed her forehead.

  She raised her head, fighting the white hot pain and the yellow dots floating across her vision. “Please. . .”

  Gently he grabbed the back of her head and guided her to a sitting position. She cried, and he tried to soothe her. He rubbed his hand gently over her cheek, leaving narrow trails of her friend’s blood on her pallid skin. He pressed her face into his filthy, blood stained shirt. He held her there, rocking her, waiting for her to quit crying, trying to console this thing that brought him comfort.

  And slowly she did quit sobbing and struggling against his powerful body. Her arms went limp, and he lowered her to the blanket and smiled down at her.

  Her beautiful blue eyes gazed into his. A trail of tears was drying on her waxen cheeks. The breeze was light and playful and strands of her blond hair glided over her lovely face.

  He let out a sigh and nudged her. She continued to stare into his eyes. There was no movement, only two faded blue circles radiating the dark void of her pupils.

  He lowered his head until he could see his reflection in her eyes, and she continued to meet his gaze. His nose touched hers and he rubbed it gently.

  He wrapped his hand around her frail cold fingers and lowered his mouth to hers as he’d seen the man do. He kissed her gently and backed away; wanting to see the same expression on her face she had given the man.

  Her face, her lips, her eyes were stone. She had not moved. A fly landed gently on her right eyeball.

  #

  Chief Snider came damn close to hitting the fool who’d run smack out into the middle of the road, arms waving.

  “Police! Police!” he shouted.

  Chief opened the door. “Fool, get out the road now!”

  “Officer! I seen it!” He was terrified. “Man come out the trees and killed Roy!”

  Chief stepped out of the car. “Say what?”

  “I was in the park, bird watchin, and this small man come out the trees. But he was huge. He was the fattest man I seen. And he was —“

  Chief was already running down the dirt path with the .44 in his right hand. Huffing and puffing but making quick time to the park. His stomach jiggled as he ran, but he didn’t care. He was going to kill that sonofabitch right now and call it a day.

  He rounded the corner, saw the wishing well and park benches and water fountain. The blanket immediately caught his attention. He slowed to a walk and approached the two people on the ground.

  His eyes scanned the park and he turned round and round, hoping to see some sign.

  He looked down at the man first and quickly looked away. Same method of operation. The woman though, she could have been asleep, except for the eyes. They were wide open and glazed.

  Chief studied her face for a good minute as he caught his breath. The streaks of blood on her cheeks weren’t her own. She looked defeated, and he oddly wondered about eternity.

  “Told you he’d be killin in no time soon,” Ethan said.

  Chief turned around, broken from the trance. “I know that boy’s family. He grown up here. He sold tractor supplies at the John Deere place out on Highway 19.”

  Ethan said nothing. He pulled out a can of dip, opened the top and put a pinch between his gum and lower lip.

  Chief choked up, and he looked away. “He killed my son.”

  Ethan spit. “That’s a damn shame.”

  “You think he—did he violate that girl any?”

  “Naw. His momma took care of that problem a long time ago. She wrapped a string around his nuts a couple of times and tied it real tight. Said she couldn’t imagine a grandson comin from her abominable creation. Took a couple of week before they rotted off.”

  Chief studied the woman and saw bones protruding from the legs. He gagged but got a hold of himself before the vomit came.

  “He broke her legs. That don’t make any sense.”

  Ethan spit. “I reckon it was to keep her from runnin away.”

  Chief thought about that.

  He took his radio off his utility belt. “Central, I need you to get a hold of Larry. We’re going to need the K-9 unit.”

  #

  Billy ran down the center of the road, past the post office and grocery store and the Sears, his face drenched in sweat and the voices inside his head yelling filthy things. He tried to duck a voice that flew straight at him. It whispered evil things to him.

  He thought about those blue eyes and that warm smile, and he tasted salt as he licked the corner of his mouth. The world was an impossible thing for him to see with his eyes cloudy. He slowed down and wiped his eyes.

  A blue car appeared around the corner and tried to slam on the brakes. Its fender sent Billy flying about thirty yards back. He came down hard on his back and rolled another three yards, the asphalt tearing through shirt and skin.

  “Oh my,” the driver said. She ran up to the colossal mass balled up in the road and tried to find a pulse.

  His hand found hers and he pulled her down. She screamed and he slammed his fist into her face. He hit her again and again and again and her skull caved in. Blood flowed from the ears.

  Billy stood up and his leg bone cracked, part of it protruding from his leg. He tried to move forward, but the pain was too intense. He fell on his back in the middle of the road and rested the side of his face on the cold asphalt. He stared into the eyes of the driver.

  He rolled onto his stomach and found he could crawl if he held his breath. His fingers struck the asphalt, and he clawed it as he dragged himself. A fingernail ripped loose from his finger, but he made progress, leaving a blood trail behind him.

  #

  Chief had the .44 in his hand as he ran past the crowd, the corpse and the blue car. He saw the blood on the road and followed it from Forsyth to Lee Street. He had to hurry. People had been calling in, and the radio on his belt had been hissing and spitting nonstop. He had to make it quick. He needed to be the first on the scene.

  “Shit!” He saw the monster, resting on the rail of the bridge, being held up by two of his officers. They were smiling like they’d just caught a big shark or some shit.

  “Move out the way!” Chief said. He aimed the .44.

  The officers saw the gun and fled.

  “What are you doing?” One officer said. “Don’t do that. It’s broad daylight.”

  He pulled the trigger and it thundered and the recoil wasn’t what he had expected. A fine pink mist erupted from behind Bad Billy.

  He fired again and the bullet’s impact sent Billy toppling over the rail and into the Flint River.

  The officers stared in stunned silence.

  Chief looked over the rail and into the murky waters below. He heard laughter. “What’s so funny?” he said, never turning his head away from the river.

  He could hear Ethan spitting. “You know, I reckon that’s the first time that motherfucker’s ever had a bath.”

  Chief studied the flowing brown water in silence.

  He aimed the .44 and watched.

  He waited.

  The current was fast today.

  The water was dark.

  Part III: Man

  Willie Evans stopped his horse, jumped off the buggy and stared at the little obese man resting facedown in the mud. He found a nice sized stick and poked him a couple of times to make sure he was still breathing.

  The little man flinched, and Willie rolled him over on his back.

  “Damn. What you, man, drunk? It ain’t but 10:30 in the mornin.”

  Bad Billy’s eyes popped open and he let out a gasp, his face caked in mud.

  Willie looked down at the man’s rags and saw the bullet hole in his chest.

  “Looks like you been shot real good, partner.”

  Willie noticed the man’s eyes were blood red and his skin was pallid and pasty. “You don’t look too good fellow. What say you come with me to the county fair?�
��

  He held out his hand, and Bad Billy took it.

  “That’s right. Stand on up. I know it hurts like hell to get shot through the body cause it happened to me once when I tried to bust out of Lewis County Prison. The guard shot me clean through my shoulder, buddy. Shit, I can tell you when the rain’s comin five days for a drop falls out the sky. I ain’t shittin you.”

  Billy stood up and his head rolled to the left shoulder and he leaned against Willie.

  “Damn, you just about dead ain’t you buddy? Shit, I would leave you at the hospital but I figure you gonna do some serious time if the five-oh gets a hold of yo ass.”

  Billy moaned, and Willie brought him to the horse carriage. “You gonna have to get in the back of this buggy yourself cause I can’t lift yo fat ass. Hey? You listenin to me?”

  Billy said nothing and looked back at the Flint River, at the cloudy water he had emerged from. He had lost consciousness on the bank. The last thing he remembered was the water spewing from his mouth and the warm morning sun upon his back.

  “Hey boy! Listen to me!” Willie said. “Damnit to hell! I got to get this hoss and buggy back to the fair for I get fired. I ain’t got no time for you to stand and look around. Now either jump in the buggy, or I’ll leave your ass at the bank where I found it.”

  Billy watched the man motioning to the buggy with his hands. From time to time he could hear noise coming from the man, but that was mostly drowned out by the constant ringing in his ear. He touched the spot where his ear had been, before his uncle had shot it off with a shotgun. He watched the man motion towards the buggy again and decided to get in. He grabbed the edge and pulled his heavy load up into the seat. Pain seared through him, and his hand went to the wound above his left breast. He withdrew his fingers and noticed the blood, thick and dark, dripping to the buggy’s floor

  “At a boy!” Willie said. “We goin to the fair! Do you want a job? I bet I can get a job for you. Say big man, you want to be a carnie?”

  Willie climbed the buggy step and took the horse’s reigns. “Getty up mutherfucker!” he said.

  #

  The Donnelley County Fair didn’t give Paul the same excitement it used to. He walked across the grounds; the road was paved and cracked, littered with paper napkins, cigarette butts and soda cans.

  The whole thing seemed gaudy, with bright orange and red lights flickering high over concession stands and booths. Even the rides had those lights, like a tow truck at two o’clock in the morning or a college town with nothing but bars that stretched for miles.

  The wind chilled him to the bone as it blasted through him. He squeezed Laura’s hand and listened to the sounds of laughter and screaming.

  Laura squeezed his hand back. “Isn’t this wonderful?”

  “Sure is, baby.”

  Paul was here for a reason. He desperately wanted to take it to the next level with Laura Johnson. It had been six months. It was time for her to put out. He couldn’t understand why she hadn’t yet; she was a beautiful woman who was lonely like him and didn’t want to be alone. The moon was blood red and bloated against the black sky.

  He felt something lightly brush him and watched as a girl, no more than ten, ran past, laughing and holding a stick of cotton candy in her hand. She stopped and turned around.

  “Sorry about that, mister,” she said.

  Laura grinned. “It’s okay. How’s the cotton candy?”

  “It’s really good!” The little girl took off, disappearing into the crowd.

  “We should get some cotton candy, Paul. And a funnel cake. I’ve always wanted to try funnel cake.”

  “Sure thing. So how do you like the fair?”

  She grinned and her face lit up. “I love the fair! I can’t believe I never went before.”

  Paul nodded his head and looked at his calculator watch. Five minutes past nine. It was getting late. Maybe it was time to leave and take it to a motel.

  “It’s late, Laura. Let’s head for the exit and get your cotton candy and funnel cake on the way out.”

  She hugged him hard and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you so much for this night,” she said. “Richard would never have done this for me.”

  And there it was. Paul’s heart sank. Laura’s ex-husband. He could forget about the motel. She’d probably bring him up for the rest of the night.

  “Let’s head for the exit and hit a vendor up for some grub!” He hoped she couldn’t hear the disappointment in his voice.

  “Dunk me!” a carnie yelled out as Paul and Laura walked past. “To hell with you!” the carnie shouted as Twisted Sister played on the speakers. “Can you dunk me honey?”

  Paul could smell funnel cake and popcorn and caramel apples as he passed a concession stand blaring Stevie Ray Vaughn. He could hear a couple talking about the Ferris Wheel. The girl wanted to ride and the guy refused because it took too many tickets.

  And then they were right beside the exit, standing in line at the last concession stand, when Lara spotted the House of Horrors.

  “Oh, honey, can we go to the House of Horrors?”

  Paul studied the cardboard wall with paintings of freaks and demons and flames that hid the trailer behind it. “Laura, it’s nothing but a damn trailer. It’s a waste of money.”

  “Please?”

  “Alright.”

  They left the line and walked up to a carnie wearing a red sweat shirt and red sweat pants. He was sitting on the porch steps, smoking a cigarette.

  “Welcome to the House of Horrors!” he said. “The scariest place on this fucking planet. I cannot stress enough the evils waiting behind this entrance. You may enter, but I can’t guarantee you’ll ever leave!” His laughter boomed across the fairgrounds. His face was turning red and spit was flying from his mouth. Then he started coughing a cigarette cough.

  Paul rolled his eyes and Laura squealed with delight.

  “Two tickets, folks,” the carnie said.

  Paul sighed and handed over two tickets.

  “Much appreciated,” the carnie said, standing up and motioning them to come up the stairs. He opened the door. “Have a safe journey.”

  Paul stepped into the darkness and felt Laura press against his back. The carnie slammed the door shut and they were in total blackness.

  “Oh, this is scary!”

  “It’s a damn trailer Laura. It’s an empty trailer that’s had its windows sealed off from light. They probably used aluminum foil to do the job. I wouldn’t be surprised if that carnie lives here.”

  “Paul, don’t spoil this for me!” He felt her hand clutch his. “Here, feel this.” And suddenly her warm and soft breast was in his grasp. “Do you know what that is?”

  He nodded his head and felt like a fool because she couldn’t see in the darkness. “Yes,” his voice cracked.

  She pulled his hand away. “Why don’t you come find me?” He heard laughter and her shoes slapping the floor as she ran off.

  “Oh, I plan to cum.”

  Paul held his hands out and decided to walk like Frankenstein. “I am cumming, woman.” He wished he hadn’t quit smoking. A lighter would have been just the ticket. “Got something for you . . .”

  He tripped over something and fell, his face and stomach slapping the floor.

  “Shit.” Paul got to his knees and felt for the object. His hand touched something soft and silky. He ran his fingers over it. Hair. Definitely hair. “Laura?”

  No response.

  “Baby?” He shook the body on the floor. The skin was cold. Why was it so cold? Was she unconscious? Had she fallen? He hadn’t heard any noise in the trailer.

  Paul jumped up and felt for Laura’s shoulders. He dragged her to the exit, found the doorknob and opened the door. The carnie stared at him.

  “I don’t know what happened to her.” Paul looked down at Laura and saw a face he had never seen before; it was covered in blood.

  “Who the hell is that?” the carnie asked. “Where’s that blond bitch you came in w
ith?”

  “I don’t know,” Paul said. “Call the police and give me a flashlight.”

  “No phone, brother,” the carnie said. “And this is my show. I’ll go with you.” He walked to the House of Horrors booth beside the entrance and grabbed a flashlight. “Let’s go in and get your girl.”

  Paul stared at the carnie. Something wasn’t jiving. “You don’t have a phone?”

  “Man, I can’t even afford cigarettes. Hell no, I don’t have a phone.”

  “Where is she?” Paul said.

  The carnie reached behind his back and pulled a pistol from his waistband. “Get inside the fucking trailer.”

  Paul nodded his head and headed back inside. The carnie fell in behind him with the light and scanned the room. The trailer was completely empty. They walked from one end to the other.

  Nothing.

  “What did you do with her,” Paul said.

  The carnie shrugged. “You reckon your blond left you in here?”

  “Huh?”

  The carnie walked to the middle of the trailer and pointed the light at the rear wall. Paul noticed a back door.

  “Maybe she knew the setup of this trailer and ran away from you because you’re a fucking psycho killer.” Paul heard the click of the revolver’s hammer. He couldn’t see the carnie or the pistol behind the bright flashlight bulb.

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Paul said. “That makes no sense at all.”

  “Then where the fuck is she?”

  “I don’t know! You tell me.”

  “Maybe you tossed her ass out the back door,” the carnie said. “Maybe you cut her up real good and threw her out one piece at a time.”

  “That’s fucking stupid!” Paul said. He felt something wet land in his hair and ran a hand over it. He pulled the hand away and saw blood. He looked up into the darkness.

  “Shine your light at the ceiling.”

  “Don’t move or you’re dead.” The carnie’s beam cut to the ceiling. “Fuck!”

  Paul saw a man’s back pressed against the ceiling. His pale face was turned to the side, and his profile was demonic in the light. His eyes were crimson and he hissed. In his arms was Lisa’s lifeless body, her head drooping lifelessly down, her legs dangling.