Skulls

by Tim Marquitz

  Cass pulled him into a hug with a laugh. “I know you wouldn’t do that, Jake, because I’d have you neutered first.”

  He pulled away, his face pained. “You’re mean.”

  She just laughed harder, then stuck her tongue out. “So I hear.”

  Jacob shook his head as Cass got up and grabbed some snacks from the tray. She tossed the packages at him. They landed in his lap. “I know you’re getting ready to bail, so take them with you. You need to eat something.”

  He looked down at the packages and sighed. His gaze drifted up to hers. “Thanks.” He collected the snacks and went to give her a hug. “See you at the party tonight?”

  “As long as you don’t get into trouble.”

  “I don’t plan on it,” he answered, mocking her tone.

  “You never do.” She grabbed his arm and playfully dragged him down the stairs.

  In the foyer, Cass pulled him close before he could walk out the door. “I really want to hang out tonight.”

  Jacob lifted her chin and kissed her quick. He resisted the urge to linger, her parents gone for the day. “I’ll be there. I promise.” He smiled and held the snacks up. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  Before Cass could reply, Jacob waved and walked off. He made it two houses down before he turned back to look. Cass was already inside.

  He tore open one of the packages and started on the snack. Though it tasted okay, it settled in his stomach like a brick. He looked at the others and heard his stomach rumble. He dropped them in a trash can.

  His mind circled back to what he’d learned. The images fluttered through his head. Before he knew it, he had cut across the cultivated yards on Country Club and was headed for the bunker.

  He went the long way around to avoid where his friends hung out. It made the trip a little longer, but he didn’t want to explain where he was going. At the barbed wire fence, he hopped over and entered Jenks’s property.

  His pulse raced when he spied the towering tree and cluster of shrubs that hid the bunker. He took a deep breath and looked to be sure no one was watching. He then slipped through the shrubs and pulled the hatch open. The musky scent of moist earth wafted up to greet him.

  His hands trembled. Memories of Katie sprung to mind. He shook his head, trying to clear the images. He felt strange. The visions of the murder terrified him, yet he felt something else. Was it excitement?

  He dismissed the thought and worked his way down the ladder. With a deep breath at the bottom—this one sticking to his lungs—he turned to face the wall of skulls.

  He saw Katie’s skull where he’d dropped it. A pang of guilt hit him for his callousness. He picked it up without looking into its eyes and returned the skull to its perch.

  Katie settled, he looked the remaining assembly over. He didn’t let his gaze linger on any of their empty sockets. Though he was sure he imagined it, it was as if they were calling to him. He heard a plaintive hum inside his head. His breath seemed to echo off the walls.

  Jacob reached out and grabbed one of the skulls at random. Each was as good as the next, he figured. Its cold bone fit comfortable in his hands. Tingles of excitement shot up his arms. He stared down at its white dome and felt the urge to turn it toward him. He needed to look into its eyes.

  It had a story to tell.

  Jacob felt compelled to listen.

  He twisted the skull and stared into the blackness of its eyes. A cold chill settled in the air around him. Like the nighttime sky, stars exploded to life in the darkness. There was a gleam, and Jacob felt the desperate pull of memories.

  He gave in without a fight.

  Chapter Nine

  Terrance Cole waited. His breath was cold in his lungs. He stared through the late night gloom, his eyes locked on the nestled trinity of trash cans. The bushes he peered through twitched against his sweaty face as the cool breeze made them sway.

  His moment come at last. The center can exploded with a loud roar. It thundered through the darkness, the lid blown ten feet straight into the air. A volcano of trash followed it up, flickering with fire lights. The sides of the can split and reddish-orange flares rushed from the cracks. They scorched the surrounding cans and sent them tumbling.

  Dogs howled in the background. The nearest house lights flipped on to chase the shadows from the night. Terrance ducked low and ran for the tree line. A smile on his face even the darkness couldn’t conceal, he laughed as he ran.

  In the trees, he slowed and veered off to keep his triumph in sight. Tiny flickers of flame still burned at the cans. Shadows in the light raced to put the fires out. He laughed louder as sirens began to wail in the distance. Firemen were roused from their beds at his fiery summons. They were his to command.

  Terrance watched for a moment longer. He knew he had a few minutes before people’s attention turned from the fire to the person that started it. The cool air nipped at the sweat that ran easy down his neck. The sirens grew louder. Terrance knew it was time. He ducked into the woods, making his way higher. He ran until the sirens were a muffled whisper in the distance.

  When he could run no longer, Terrance stopped to listen. He turned and stared into the murky shadows, thinking he’d heard something nearby. He felt sure no one had followed him, or had even known he was there. Shaking it off, he cut north toward the Downs.

  He slipped through the trees, foregoing stealth for speed. The dried pine needles and yellowed foliage crunched beneath his feet. It sounded overloud in the dead quiet of the forest. A broad smile etched on his face, he nearly danced through the woods, unable to contain his excitement.

  Once again he’d been able to set off one of his homemade pipe bombs without being caught. The first had been a dud. It fizzled out before it had a chance to explode. It had made the news, but only in passing. His second attempt, however, was a monument to backyard engineering.

  The local Motel 6 closed for remodeling, Terrance had his target. He stuffed the electrical box of the huge road sign with three of his bombs. The monstrous explosion echoed through the hills for miles when it went off. It snapped the pole at the base with a ringing pop.

  The sign hopped once as it hit the ground, before the rest swung down like a scythe. It crashed into the side of the hotel and smashed through the temporary plywood walls. It shattered glass for five rooms around.

  The motel bombing was a front page, breaking story. Though the hotel wasn’t open, a number of unfortunate squatters had taken nighttime residence in it.

  The injuries were relatively minor, mostly cuts and scrapes, but there were a few broken bones. It had been a miracle no one had been killed. The fact that anyone had been hurt at all upped the stakes. What had started as a prank had quickly escalated into a felony.

  Terrance loved it. Only sixteen, he was likely well on his way to earning a criminal record. But so far, he’d gotten away with everything.

  He’d planted two more bombs after the hotel, including his last. Though he loved the notoriety of the hotel bombing, he knew better than to push his luck. So to be safe, he slunk around and blew up little things in places where it was easy to escape.

  His heart thumped happily in his chest as he made his way through the woods. He celebrated his latest success.

  He never felt the blow that knocked him unconscious.

  * * * *

  Terrance awoke to a stinging brightness. His eyes fluttered open to a whitewash of blindness. He gasped and tried to shield his eyes, but his wrists had been restrained. Suddenly aware, he felt the cold steel of a collar at his neck. Its solidness limited the motion of his head. His ankles had been bound as well, his legs shackled to the wall behind him.

  “You’ve been bad, Terrance,” a low voice sounded from the darkness.

  His joy at having gotten away with another bombing faded. He’d been willing to trade a m
easure of freedom for infamy, should he be caught, but he knew when he heard the voice, he hadn’t been arrested. This was a different predicament altogether. It was one he hadn’t thought of. Hadn’t prepared for. A cold chill ran up his spine.

  The light dimmed a bit. The darkness behind it softened into lurking shadows. He could see someone there, a hulking figure that drifted closer. A grating scrape followed at its heels.

  His breath was frigid in his lungs. Terrance’s heart galloped a marathon as it pounded roughshod against his ribs. The blackened shape loomed. Then the figure slid into the light.

  The cold gleam of the axe flickered. The blade dragged heavily across the wooden floor. Terrance’s eyes locked on the axe. Terror sunk deep into his heart, a spiraling well of despair.

  Pride had never been an issue for Terrance. Integrity was a fantasy only his dead father had believed in. He begged for his life with abandon. Snot and tears streamed down his face. He stared into the masked man’s dark eyes. What little faith he had withered in the dead abyss of their glare. It was a festering rot that devoured all hope.

  His blurred gaze drifted downward. On the floor, Terrance spotted the black plastic tarp beneath him. His heart stopped in his chest. He looked up again fast, tears leaping from his eyes. He knew then he was living his final moments. It was a sickening realization.

  Terrance wailed and thrashed against the restraints. The man held the axe out and let it swing back and forth. It was a shimmering pendulum that reflected the light.

  A muffled chuckle slipped from behind the mask. After a moment, the man raised the blade and hoisted it over Terrance’s head.

  Terrance’s screams doubled in fervor as the blade dropped. Its edge cleaved the toes from his right foot. Blood exploded in small geysers. The moist splat of it struck the tarp.

  Pain washed over Terrance and his throat gave out. The jagged shards of his screech shredded his larynx. Vomit boiled over in its place. It spilled down his chin and streamed to the floor to mingle with the dark blood at his feet.

  Terrance hung limp and trembled. His body convulsed as shock wormed its way to the surface. A gloved hand lifted his chin as the masked man looked into his eyes. Consciousness wavered and Terrance barely noticed the blade as it dropped once more.

  It sunk into the meat of his thigh. Terrance slammed his head against the wall as searing bolts of pain streaked through his body.

  The man left the blade buried where it was. He wiggled its handle each time Terrance threatened to pass out. He was spurred into agonizing awareness with every tiny movement. Fresh tendrils of warm blood streamed down his leg. It was horrible proof he was still alive.

  Terrance rambled, words spilling from his mouth like the bloody spittle that ran down his chin. Drop by drop his life ebbed away. The moments passed in torturous slowness until Terrance could no longer even babble.

  It was then the masked man pulled the blade from his leg. Terrance hung there without so much as a whimper. Lifting his chin again, the man looked into Terrance’s eyes one last time. The room darkened. He drew the axe back again.

  The blade thudded into Terrance’s stomach and a bubbling blackness spilled over the handle. It gushed toward the floor. Terrance’s vision tunneled as he saw his blood bubbling from the wound. His mind floated in a thick fog. He stared at the encroaching darkness as the light of his world dimmed.

  After a moment, there was nothing but darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  Jacob snapped back into his own head with a sickening pop. The skull gripped tight in his white-knuckled hand, he crumbled to the floor. The connection was broken. He unconsciously stared into the eyes of Terrance’s skull. There was only black and the faint whispers of smoke.

  Tremors shook him. Images whipped past his mind’s eye like a train hurtling upon the tracks. Flickers of light and dark sparked intermittently. Color was washed out by the dull gray, only to be reborn again in a flash.

  Tingles prickled his skin as though he lay in a bed of ants, their tiny legs marching along his sensitive flesh. He sputtered, his heart an engine drowned in morbid fuel. His head was awash in a warm, distorting haze and he felt flush.

  He didn’t remember getting up, or placing the skull back, yet there he stood. Terrance’s skull was settled in its niche and stared boldly back at him. Jacob felt his eyes drift. There was a gentle tug against them. Somewhere deep down he reasserted control and looked away. He stared at the dirty ground.

  Somehow he made his way to the ladder. He saw his hands as they grasped the rungs and marveled at their continued function. He couldn’t feel them.

  He pulled himself from the hatch and kicked it closed behind him. The sound stung his ears. His head ached as he scrambled to his feet. He tossed the concealing web of foliage over the wooden door without thinking about it.

  Before he even realized, he was in the woods. Terrance and Katie jockeyed for position inside his head. A montage of mental photographs fluttered before his eyes like a shuffling deck of cards that refused to be dealt. Each thought washed away by the next before it could be fully understood.

  Branches slapped his cheeks red as he staggered aimless. A burgeoning awareness sparked to life in the back of his mind. He could see the trees as they approached. They whipped by in a willowy haze, his shoulders bouncing off the clustered trunks as though he were a pinball.

  Unsure of how far he’d walked, or even in what direction, Jacob’s coherence crept caterpillar-slow to the forefront. Confusion came along with it. For the first time since he’d climbed the ladder, he stopped moving.

  He stared into the shadowed forest looking for landmarks. He saw nothing but more trees. The land having plateaued around him, it threw off is natural sense of direction. The slope of the mountain had always been his clue to which way was home.

  He stood still and forced his mind to focus. At last, his heartbeat slowed enough to stop flooding his ears. He heard a repetitive thunk through the trees. With no better directional guide, he followed the sound.

  Jacob weaved through the woods, the sound flittering back and forth around him. He found his course at last. The noise grew closer and he sped up. He pushed his way past a wedge of gnarled branches and stumbled into a clearing.

  Not more than thirty feet from where he stood, just past a primer-gray Chevy pickup, an older man in faded overalls stared at Jacob over a clustered pile of split logs. An axe dangled in one hand. Jacob froze. He met the man’s steely gaze, memories flitting at the sight of the axe.

  The man was shirtless, his bald crown tanned. Meaty slabs of aged muscle stretched the overalls to the limit. He raised the axe as though it were a toy and pointed it at Jacob.

  “What are you doing on my property, boy?” His voice rumbled deep, scaring the grackles from the trees.

  Jacob felt the surge of adrenaline hit just as he realized who the man was—Old Man Jenks. Jacob was back in the trees before Jenks could take a step forward.

  He heard the old man shout again, but fear made Jacob quick. The thought of the axe coming at him from behind fed his feet with fire. He tore through the woods, paying no heed to the branches that whipped his skin into bloody streaks.

  He barreled ahead and threatened to topple face first at any moment. The dwindling cries of Old Man Jenks did nothing to slow his pace. Jacob’s lungs were like pistons in his chest. Great huffing breaths stretched his ribs and he barely noticed the barbed wire fence that sprung up out of nowhere.

  He leapt without thinking, clearing the fence easily, but his momentum pulled his feet from under him. He landed hard, his chest slamming into the ground. He gasped for breath as he careened down the hill face first. He dug his hands into the soft earth and tried to slow his descent, only managing to spin himself sideways. His slide turned into a tumble.

  A moment later, a tangle of trees succeeded where Jacob had failed.


  He slid into the unforgiving branches, which tore at him like cat’s claws. The thick trunk of an evergreen taught him a textbook lesson in physics. His upper back slammed into the tree. Flesh shredded on impact and Jacob came to a sudden halt. His head whiplashed back and missed smashing into the trunk by just inches.

  His back hummed. Jacob felt the sharp, burning sting of the skin he’d torn off. Dizzy and wanting to curl up into a ball, he knew he had to keep going. The old man’s axe would have no mercy.

  He climbed to his feet and started off again. Every step was a grinding misery. Salty sweat seeped into his wounds. Determined to make it home alive, he gritted his teeth and found the strength to put one foot in front of the other until they slapped down onto his empty driveway.

  He staggered up the stairs and nearly leapt inside the trailer. He locked the door and double-checked all the windows before going to his room. Exhausted, he dropped down on the bed.

  Thoughts of Terrance whirled through his head. Katie’s image was interspersed throughout. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed to chase them away. Marginally successful, he lay there listening to his breathing. The pillow reflected it back warmly onto his face. The rhythmic sound lulled his mind to peace and he fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jacob woke to the sound of heavy-booted footsteps. He jumped up in bed with a start clutching handfuls of the sheet beneath him.

  It took just a few seconds for him to realize it wasn’t Old Man Jenks come to get him, but simply his father stomping about the house like he always did.

  Jacob eased back onto the bed to catch his breath. He glanced at the clock and sighed. He had more than thirty minutes until his dad left to take Ann to work. Then they’d be at the bar the rest of the night.

  Not interested in reminding his parents of his sorry existence, he stayed in his room and kept quiet. Oblivious to his being there, or simply not caring one way or the other, they went about their business. As always, he wasn’t a part of it.