He found Del lying there on his back with part of his brain crushed in from the bowling ball beside him. It made his stomach turn. He bent down and sprayed a mouthful of vomit over the front of his Chuck Taylor’s. Connor turned around and returned to the couch with Addison. He decided to take a short little vacation to her getaway world. It was nice. Even with the reek of corpses and puke on his shoes, it was nice.
But then Addy told him what had happened and he threw up again. The odor was getting to the both of them so he got up and opened the set of windows in the living room. He looked outside into the falling snow and watched people getting in and out of their vehicles. He wondered where they were going, where they were coming from. How many of them had just returned from a murder scene? How many were about to walk right into one?
Connor sat back down on the couch and held Addison against his chest. They stayed like that for quite some time until Connor asked her if he should call the police.
“No,” she said.
“Why not? You didn’t do anything wrong, baby. Just reacted in self-defense. There’s evidence of this. A lot.”
Shit, he thought, didn’t we just go through this same situation last night?
“I just turned seventeen,” she said. “I thought about this before you got here. I don’t know of any other relatives. They’d make me a ward of the state and I’d go off to live God knows where. I can’t do that, Connor. You know that.”
“What about your father?”
She shook her head. “You really think they’d give him custody?”
“Sure they would. Why wouldn’t they?”
“He just finished serving, like, a decade of prison time. I doubt they will see him as very fit to take care of me.”
“Addy, they don’t have any other options.”
“I don’t care.” She started to cry again. “I don’t want to do that!”
“Okay, okay…”
“I want to be with you and get the hell of this place already. I hate this town! I hate the people here. They disgust me so much. They’re all pigs. I hate it. I hate it!”
“So, let me get this right,” Connor said. “You’re saying you hate it?”
She slugged him on the arm. “I’m glad you can find humor in this.”
“You’d rather I cry with you?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. I’m confused and scared and tired and I just want to get away from everything. This town is killing me. And now this. I want to leave it. Leave it all. Go to the city, maybe. Do you want to go to the city?”
Connor squeezed his arm around her. “You said you’d run away with me. Of course I will with you, too. Is that what you want?”
She was shaking, like she was about to burst of emotion. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“I lied to you before, about being a virgin.”
Connor went to say something but then stopped. He hadn’t expected that.
“Oh-kay,” he said.
“I’m not talking about last night, either.”
“It’s all right, Addy,” he said. “I don’t care.”
“No, it’s not all right!”
“What happened?”
“Del,” she said. “He’s done things to me. Some really bad things.”
“Oh.”
Addison took off her wristbands, something she had never done as long as he knew her, and showed him her veins. Horizontal scars ran across both wrists.
“It got so bad that I wanted to die,” she explained. “I tried to, but I was young and stupid and didn’t know how to die properly, I guess. I’m glad he’s dead, Connor. My mother knew all about it and just turned the other way. She ignored his abuse. She paid no attention to my attempted suicide. You know what she said when I came home from the hospital? She told me to go to my room and stop acting like a whiny bitch. And Del, well, he just did the same thing that he had been doing and it only made me want to die all the more. I was drowning, Connor—drowning in toxicity. Then I met you and thought, maybe the world wasn’t all so bad, maybe I wasn’t screwed. And now they’re both dead and I have you and I am glad. But the baby? No, she didn’t deserve to die. God no. Not in a million years. But the more I think about it the more I decide she was probably better off anyway. Can you imagine what she would have gone through growing up in a family like this? I would have had to raise her myself. But what about when I turned eighteen and moved out? I wouldn’t have been able to. I would have known the baby wouldn’t be safe so I would have stayed with them to make sure she was all right and continue living through this miserable hell. Del would have kept on having his way and I would have wound up pregnant and you know what would have happened next? We would have ended up with our own fucking reality show on MTV. We would become rich and exploited. That’s what happens when a tragedy strikes. They don’t make it better—they only make it worse. They showcase it with a million tiny video cameras and sell T-shirts of your favorite monsters. Only they call them characters. If I wasn’t too busy being distracted from raising my stepfather’s baby I would have gotten so embarrassed I would’ve ended up trying to kill myself again, but knowing me I would have only failed. The paparazzi would have a field day. Can you imagine the headlines? So yeah, I guess it is a miracle that they’re all dead. The whole fucking lot of them. It makes me feel like the most horrible person in the world to say that but it’s the truth. God, what is wrong with me? I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m so far gone I’m passed insanity, if that even makes sense. I don’t know why people are so focused on sex or why it’s important enough to inflict violence on someone else. I don’t know why people like to hit other people but I do know that I’m sick of thinking about it all. I want to go away and start a new life, one with you. I like you, Connor. I even love you. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who doesn’t make me feel pity for the world. Well, I still do, but it’s a different kind of pity. When I’m with you I pity everyone else for not knowing the happiness you give to me when you’re not even trying to do anything. When I’m with you I forget about everything else. I feel safe. I forget how much I despise breathing. And when we’re separated I hate being alive. It seems like a waste. But now nothing is holding us back, Connor. We’re free to go where we want. So let’s go. Let’s be free.”
She took a deep breath.
Connor didn’t know what to say so he just reached over and kissed her. He drew back and said, “We’re gonna need some help.”
“I know,” she said, and this time she kissed him.
Chapter Twenty-One
How Do You Know if You Have Crabs?
Maddox Kane exited the Sting carrying a large briefcase. He stored it in the trunk of his Cadillac and took off, wondering again if perhaps this was a mistake.
The entire trip back to the trailer, Maddox found himself thinking about the events that were scheduled to commence the following day. He didn’t like it at all, but knew this one job would be all he needed to buy Addy’s freedom—if Sheryl was willing to make a deal, of course. Somehow he thought she would agree. Junkies did not have a sense of dignity. All they cared about was their next fix. The amount of money Maddox planned on offering would take care of their next three thousand fixes.
King had made an interesting point. Who knew what this drug’s future held? Maddox pondered possible scenarios as he drove down the Dan Ryan. He had witnessed Jericho’s cruel infliction on its host. King had claimed there were already numerous customers on demand and the numbers were only rising. He boasted about dozens of dealers he had under his muscular wing—including a couple of Goth kids that “creeped him right the hell out”. It made Maddox wonder how come he hadn’t heard anything about this until now. Sure, he was just released from a ten year stint, but still…
Was the DEA investigating this yet? They were on top of everything it seemed. What about the news then? Were they reporting it? He made a mental note to ask Benny if he had seen anything on TV abo
ut it when he returned to the trailer.
The nightmarish image of test subject number eighteen shaking like that in his chair played over and over again in his head. The ominous purple mist violating his lungs, it made him feel queasy, destroyed all appetite—even for butter rum Lifesavers, as unheard of as that sounded.
He visualized mall consumers spraying breath fresheners in their mouths, only to become the victims of a cruel trap. Maddox could see it now: millions of eager consumers standing in lines located in a million similar shopping malls all across the globe, all of them squirting on their new perfume or mint candy spray. He could, very vividly, watch from his Cadillac as they all realized one by one how much of a mistake they had made, that their purchases were tainted with a deadly plague, all of them falling to the ground like a pack of crazed dominoes or running wildly through the streets and leaping through plate-glass windows. People would attack one another. They would kill for the next hit, or perhaps it would just be a simple case of phantom self-defense. Who really knew for certain the type of hallucinations this intoxication would bring upon the abuser? In a world where people enjoyed viewing televised dwarves conducting business via large machinery, anything was possible.
Of course, this was all very long-term. It would take time, oh yes, years to come, but he feared this to be the truth if this drug continued feeding on the souls of desperate Americans. God knew where else it was being distributed. Someone needed to step up while it was still early and prevent these disastrous events from taking place. Maddox wondered if he was the one meant to stop it all. After all, he was in the possession of an entire briefcase full of this destructive product. But what could he do with it? Take it on down to the police station and say, “Yeah, that Vincent King guy is paying me to sell this. Please go arrest him.”
Yeah, and if he said “pretty please with sugar on top” the lot lizard holding herself hostage in Benny’s trailer would just pack up and leave, because life was simple and everything could be solved by polite conversation.
Maddox stopped at a red light. A car honked because his music was too loud. There was a homeless man standing on the corner holding a sign that begged for money and food for his poor starving family. He wore a clean shirt, had a shaved face, and must have weighed about three hundred pounds.
To hell with the future. He wanted to be with his daughter. He wanted her to be happy. And if that meant dealing a briefcase loaded with America’s possible downfall to a notoriously violent pimp for this objective to become a reality, then so be it. He didn’t care anymore.
But if his predictions did come true, and this Jericho did cast some kind of chaotic shadow across Earth’s atmosphere and spin into complete and utter anarchy, well…he would just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.
* * * * *
It was a little after sundown when Maddox walked in to the trailer, discovering his brother curled up into a ball on the sofa, sucking his thumb with his eyes glued to the television.
He could very clearly hear that hooker animal sex cry from the bedroom. Maddox went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Screw it, he thought, and came back in the living room and sat down on the recliner. He popped off the lid and took a deep, long swig, figuring since he was already breaking one vow, it wouldn’t hurt to break another. The alcohol tasted so good flowing down his throat that it came to a bit of a shock to him when seconds later he reached the bottom.
He belched and glanced pitifully at his ostensibly scarred sibling. “What happened to you?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You all right?”
“I dunno.” He said removed his thumb. “I think I have crabs now.”
“You think?”
Benny stood up and faced his older brother. He began to reach down his long johns before Maddox held up his hands and stopped him. “Whoa, whoa, what the hell are you doing?”
“Showing you?” Benny said, confused. “I’m not sure whether I have them or not and there’s no way I’m going to see a doctor about this.”
“Well, um, do you itch?”
“God yes.”
“More than usual?”
“Oh yeah. Way more.”
“Then you have crabs. So there’s no need to show me.”
“I was afraid of that,” Benny said miserably, lowering his head.
Maddox looked over at the TV. Either that one beer had already gotten him drunk, or he was actually witnessing Steven Seagull kickboxing a guy dressed up in a Spider-Man costume. Either way, another brew was sure to solve the problem. He retrieved it from the fridge and sat back down.
Benny was still on the couch. Now he had the waist of his long johns stretched to their limits while he peeked at his groin region. “That’s not all,” he said.
“What?”
“It’s all black and blue, like it’s broken or something. You sure you don’t want to see?”
Maddox flinched away, careful not to spill his drink. “No, that’s quite okay.”
“And I keep pissing blood.”
“You should see a doctor.” Maddox reached the bottom of beer number two.
“I was afraid of that,” Benny repeated.
The screams from the bedroom rose and then abruptly fell quiet once again. Moments later the trailer was occupied by Jazzy’s eerie snores. “We need to help your roommate,” Maddox said. “I don’t think he’s going to survive much longer.”
Benny shook his head, still looking down at his crotch. “She’s taken him, Mads. It’s no use. Floyd’s on her side now. The dark creepy side.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Earlier she left the room to go to the bathroom, so I sneaked in to smuggle him out. But he wouldn’t come with me. He says he loves her now. How can anyone possibly love that thing? I think she broke my dick.”
“Really?” A third beer was looking awfully promising.
“Yeah, I told you, if you would quit being a baby and just take a look you would know what I’m talking about.”
“No, you idiot, I mean about Floyd.”
“Yeah,” Benny said, “I think he was a virgin.”
“Oh.”
A couple minutes passed as Maddox downed a few more beers. He could feel a slight buzz coming his way. After a while he asked Benny if he had a gun.
Benny shot his head up from his crotch with excitement. “You’re gonna kill her?”
“No, it’s for a job.”
“A job of killing her?” Benny asked, eyes pleading.
“No!” Maddox said, although he would be lying if he said the idea hadn’t crossed his mind more than once. “I found this job today, and it requires the handling of a firearm. So, do you have one or not?”
“Well, that depends.” Benny smiled.
“Oh?” He dreaded where this was going.
“This a job for a certain Mr. King?”
“It could be.”
“Can I come?”
Maddox sighed. Of course, he didn’t really want his younger brother tagging along with him tomorrow, but he also knew a piece would come in handy just in case anything fishy went down, and he didn’t have anyone else to turn to.
“If you do exactly as I say,” he said.
Benny slapped his thigh and grinned. “Then of course I got a gun.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Fly that Buzzes Last
Johnny was forced into the back of a limo and the driver sped away in a hurry.
Isolating himself in the corner of the backseat and tugging frantically at the overhead hand grip, Johnny did the best he could not to go tumbling all over the place. He spotted his girlfriend edging toward him with a look of comfort on her face, telling him to calm down, everything would be okay.
She was lying, of course. Nothing felt like it would ever be okay again. But when had it ever?
“What the hell is going on?” he shouted. “What’re you doing? What is this? Answer me!”
She placed a motherly hand
on his shoulder and he shook it off violently. “Don’t you touch me until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Relax, Johnny. I’m your girl, remember? It’s my job to take care of you. So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m taking care of you.”
“You’re going to kill me?” He felt his heart freeze and he forgot how to breathe for a moment. He didn’t want to die so soon, not like this.
She offered a very obvious smile. “No, silly, I’m gonna get you clean.”
“Clean from what?”
She patted his shoulder again and this time he couldn’t find the strength to defend himself. “Don’t play stupid, Johnny. I don’t have time for your games. There’s a really big sale coming up at the mall and I’m gonna need you to be in top shape.”
The drive seemed to take forever. He wasn’t sure where they were going. What exactly had she meant by ‘getting him clean’? He half expected the limo to pull up alongside a river full of Baptists eager to dunk his head in the water. Or maybe she really was going to kill him. How could he have been so foolish? He should have never trusted this traitor. Hell, she was probably working for the fucking flies.
Why did these insects want him out of the way? Moreover, what did they want at all? The greater good? That was what their leader had claimed—before Johnny drank him (her? it? who could tell? and what difference did it make?). How was he supposed to help save the world? It was all just so confusing, and now he wished he had listened a little longer before swallowing the Fly. Maybe then he’d remember what peace and quiet truly meant. This constant buzzing was going to be the death of him.
Assuming, of course, his girlfriend didn’t kill him first.
Toxicity Page 13
