Spit and Die

by Jon Athan

  Micah said, “Beer, marijuana... Some party, huh?” He glanced back at the group and asked, “You said you weren't under the influence, didn't you?”

  Lucas stuttered, “We–We're not. It was... We had a few drinks and we smoked a little last night. That's all. I mean, it wasn't even enough to get drunk or high. You have my word on that, officer.”

  “Sheriff.”

  “Wha–What?”

  “I'm a sheriff, not a police officer. There's a difference. You see, I have statewide jurisdiction.”

  An awkward silence befell the group. They looked at each other. Lucas looked serious, a clenched jaw and a set of narrowed eyes. Kiara looked anxious, her arms crossed as her shoulders shuddered. Fear glimmered in Nina's eyes. They all shared the same thought: he's not a normal sheriff.

  Micah stood up and patted the dirt off his pants. He said, “Don't worry. I don't care about the weed. These days, there's really nothing we can do about it. Hell, if I had friends, I'd probably smoke the ganja, too. If it was that harder shit—heroin, crack, salts—then we'd have a big problem.” He glanced over at the group and said, “Just don't lie to me anymore. That won't end well for either of us.”

  Once again, the group was baffled. One moment, the sheriff spoke about his wish to smoke marijuana in his lonely, pitiful life; the next, he vaguely threatened them. His inconsistent attitude was worrisome.

  Micah walked around the truck. He peeked into the homemade camper, then he examined the punctured wheels. He approached the hatchback and did the same.

  He said, “You were right. Someone maliciously sliced your tires. The cuts are clean, too clean to be a coincidence. No, sir, this wasn't an animal or an accident. Judging from the punctures, I'd say he used a knife or a very sharp bone. There are a lot of animal remains out here, you see. It would be easy, too easy...” He glanced over at the tent and asked, “Where were they sleeping?”

  Lucas said, “They slept in the tent.”

  “And the rest of you slept in your cars?”

  The group nodded—yeah.

  As he approached the tent, Micah asked, “When did you notice they were missing?”

  Kiara responded, “It was around 5:30 this morning. My boyfriend woke up and noticed no one was in there.”

  “And, where's your boyfriend now?”

  “We told you: he followed the tracks to that house we were talking about.”

  “Right, right...”

  Micah knelt down in front of the tent. He pinched his nose and grimaced. The pungent scent still lingered in the tent. He leaned back and looked at the footprints around the tent—one set, overlapping over itself multiple times. He quickly examined the interior of the tent, gliding his eyes over the clothing, the cell phones, and the empty cans of beer. He waved his hand in front of his nose as he returned to his cruiser.

  The sheriff said, “I believe the perp—and there only appears to be one—may have stalked you during the night. First, he walked around your tent and sprayed ether on it for a few minutes. He waited until the ether knocked them out, then he carried them away. He cut your tires last because he was afraid of waking you, but he didn't want you to have the means to chase him. That's the theory at least.” He pointed at the pasture across the street and asked, “Now, you said your friends followed that path over there, right?”

  Lucas said, “Yes. They found tracks, so they followed them.”

  “I see. Well, that's a long driveway to that old house back there. I usually don't bother them, but, since this seems like an important issue and the evidence links together well enough, I'll go over there and have a word with them. Get back in the car.”

  Lucas gazed into Micah's eyes. He couldn't find a shred of deceit in his soul. The soft-spoken man seemed like a genuinely decent person, despite his peculiar behavior. He climbed into the car. The women followed him, sitting in the same seats as before.

  Micah removed his hat and hopped into the driver's seat. As he turned into the driveway, he whispered, “Let's follow the rainbow and find this pot of gold...”

  Chapter Eight

  Honest People

  The car bounced on the pitted dirt road, causing the occupants to sway left and right. A few branches struck the windshield and side-view mirrors, and leaves rained down onto the car from the few trees in the area. A cloud of dirt billowed behind them, obscuring their vision of the main road beyond the pasture. The vehicle rolled at five miles per hour. It took them around three minutes to reach the house.

  Upon spotting the house, Lucas, Nina, and Kiara simultaneously leaned forward—astonished. The Plantation-era house resembled something out of a history textbook. The cruiser rolled to a stop in front of the house.

  Through the rear-view mirror, Micah watched the group in the back seat. He said, “This house was owned by a great man. A war veteran, a farmer, a real-estate developer, a philanthropist... He was a little of everything before he passed away. Now, the house is owned by the man's son. This man has been more concerned with his other projects to really tend to the house, so it ended up like this—dusty. He's a good man, though. He works hard for his piece of the pie, even when it only looks like crumbs. I haven't had any trouble from him before and that's the truth.”

  Lucas stared at Micah's downcast eyes through the rear-view mirror. The sheriff appeared to be saddened by the area's history. He truly cared about the residents of his town.

  Nina grabbed Lucas' hand, anxious and frightened. Kiara stared at the house as she thought about Christopher. They didn't see Christopher and James during their drive and they reached a dead end, so they were concerned.

  Are you in there, James?–Lucas thought as he glanced over at the house. His mind was flooded with memories from the previous night. The previous night was dream-like, filled with love and laughter, while the morning was nightmarish.

  Micah said, “I'm going to go ahead and check if they're home. I'll knock and ask if they've seen your friends. They're honest people. They'll tell the truth.”

  As Micah opened his door, Lucas asked, “Can you unlock the doors?” The sheriff glanced back at him with a furrowed brow. Lucas explained, “I just want to be able to move around. We're sitting ducks back here, sir. Can you let us out?”

  “I can't do that. You look like good kids, but... looks can be deceiving. You could be the bad guys in this story. I just can't risk it.”

  “We're not the 'bad guys,' sir. Please, believe me.”

  “Well, you've already lied to me once, so... Just sit back and give me a minute. I'll be right back.”

  Micah grabbed his shade hat from the passenger seat, then he climbed out of the car. From the back seat, the group watched as the sheriff placed the hat on his head and marched up to the house. As he walked up the porch steps, most of his body vanished behind one of the columns.

  Lucas leaned back and scooted closer to the window. He could barely see Micah's back from the back seat.

  Kiara leaned forward and asked, “Where did he go? What's he doing?”

  “I've got my eyes on him. He's still on the porch,” Lucas responded. “I think he's talking to someone.”

  “Can you see who it is? Hmm? Can you see Chris?”

  “I don't see James, Chris, Andie... anyone. I can only see the sheriff's back. He's... Wait a minute. I think he just went inside.”

  Nina asked, “What? Do you think they invited him in for coffee or something?”

  Lucas and Kiara sank back into their seats, disappointed. The sheriff was supposed to help them, but he appeared to be lollygagging. Four of their friends inexplicably vanished in less than twelve hours. They were trapped in a cop car outside of a mysterious, ominous house.

  Kiara asked, “Do you think he knows them? I mean, like, do you think they can just buy him off?”

  Nina asked, “What do you mean?”

  “You heard him. The economy has been rough on him. What if this guy really had something to do with all of the disappearances? What if this guy just pays th
e sheriff to make all of this go away? What do we do then? We'd be fucked, right?”

  Nina nodded and responded, “Yeah, I guess so... He did say he was the only sheriff in town.”

  Lucas said, “Everything is under control. For all we know, Christopher, James, Carlos, and Andrea might be in there right now, eating a big breakfast with this guy's family. They could be receiving some ol' fashioned Texan hospitality, right?”

  “I don't know about that,” Nina responded. “I want to be optimistic, but... Don't you think the sheriff was a little 'off?' He was acting strange, wasn't he?”

  Yes—the answer was obvious. Lucas didn't want to frighten his girlfriend, though. He tried to keep the situation from snowballing out of control. People seemed to act unpredictably when they were frightened or concerned.

  Kiara said, “He was acting very strange. I mean, did you hear him talking about smoking 'ganja' if he had friends? What the hell was he talking about?” She shook her head and stared down at her lap. She said, “I think we'll be okay, though. It's three against one, right? He can't be that bad. If he tries anything, we–”

  Kiara stopped and stared out the passenger window with narrowed eyes, as if she were trying to spot something a mile away. Lucas and Nina turned and stared out the window, too.

  The sheriff stood on the porch. His lips flapped, he clearly spoke to someone inside of the house, but they couldn't hear his words. He didn't appear flustered by his findings. He waved and smiled, then he walked down the porch steps. He carried a small duffel bag in his right hand. He opened the front passenger door and leaned into the car. A putrid stench followed him.

  Micah said, “Well, I had a talk with the owner and his wife. They were pleasant, as usual. We had a discussion and we made some progress in the investigation. I think I came up with something, but it might not be concrete.”

  Lucas asked, “Did you find our friends?”

  “That depends. Is this your friend?”

  Micah pulled James' decapitated head out of the duffel bag, a fistful of his bloodied blonde hair clenched in his hand. James' eyes were closed, but his mouth dangled open. Blood stained his lips and chin, as if blood were foaming out of his mouth. Blood also dripped from his neck, plopping on the center console.

  Nina shrieked at the top of her lungs as she stared at the head. She had witnessed violence in movies before, but she never witnessed real gore. Kiara turned away and hysterically bawled, shocked. She could only imagine what they did to Christopher. Lucas was rendered speechless by the revelation. He stared at his best friend's decapitated head in utter awe.

  Micah softly chuckled, tickled by their reactions. He placed the head on the dashboard facing the rear seats of the car. He pulled a particulate mask out of the bag, then he tossed it over his face. The mask covered his nose and mouth. Then, he pulled a small black canister out of his shirt pocket.

  Without saying another word, he sprayed ether into the back seat of the car. He soaked the cage partition and sprayed the occupants. The pungent scent immediately stained the interior of the vehicle.

  The sheriff leaned out of the car, waving his hand in front of his face. He took ten steps back, then he stopped. With his hands on his hips, he watched as the group screamed and struggled.

  Nina and Kiara kicked the partition with all of their might, causing the cage to screech and rattle. Lucas held his shirt over his nose and struck the window with his elbow. They couldn't break free, though. There wasn't enough room in the back seat to break the partition or the windows. That didn't stop them from trying.

  Micah said, “Now, please don't go and ruin my car. I gave y'all a lift after all. Have some respect.”

  Lucas coughed, then he shouted, “I'm going to kill you, you sick bastard! I'm–” He coughed and grunted as he caught another whiff of the ether. He stuttered, “Le–Let us out! Don't.... Don't do this!”

  “You'll be out of there in a few minutes. It'll be even faster if you stop fighting it. Relax. Let it be.”

  Micah patiently waited for the ether to take effect. Ten minutes—it took ten minutes for Lucas, Nina, and Kiara to fall unconscious. Their bodies were slumped over each other. The partition was damaged, the windows were scuffed. The acrid stench still lingered in the car.

  The sheriff glanced over at the front door of the house and yelled, “Esther! Esther, I need you to give me a hand! I caught some more of 'em!”

  Chapter Nine

  Welcome Home

  Lucas hissed and snorted as he abruptly awoke. A blinding light dawned on him from above—Heaven? Tears blurred his vision, causing him to see double. He glanced down at his feet, then up at his hands. He lay on the stainless steel workbench in the middle of the kitchen. His wrists and ankles were handcuffed to the legs of the table, spreading his arms and legs away from his body.

  He whimpered and muttered, “Damn it... What did he do to me? Where... Where is everyone?”

  He lifted his head from the table and glanced around the kitchen. Due to his blurred vision, he couldn't see much of the room. There was a door across from the foot of the table. Someone appeared to be sitting in front of the door. To his right, there was an archway leading into the dining room. There was another door to his left. He glanced over at the sink beyond the head of the workbench, his eyes rolling up into his head.

  Tears welling in his eyes, Lucas said, “Wake up. Please, wake up. We... We can't die like this, damn it! Wake up!”

  Nina lay in the cupboard under the sink, handcuffed to a sturdy pipe. Her head and shoulders rested in the cupboard while the rest of her body lay on the chilly linoleum tiles of the kitchen. She moaned and sniffled as she awoke. Her nostrils stung with each breath, but she couldn't stop sniffling.

  Kiara sat on the floor in front of the door, handcuffed to the door knob. Her eyelids flickered as she awoke. She smacked her lips and moaned. She tried to move forward, but the handcuffs pulled her back. She indistinctly mumbled as she wiggled the door knob, but to no avail—the door was locked.

  As he looked at his wrists and ankles, confused but determined, Lucas said, “Nina, you... you have to wake up. You have to find a–a weapon. You can get up and you can get a knife from the counter. Come on, baby, you can do this. Nina, you have to–”

  Nina shrieked at the top of her lungs. The bloodcurdling scream echoed through the palatial house. Lucas bounced on the table and glanced over at the sink, trying his best to see his girlfriend. He feared someone else was in the room.

  Lucas asked, “What? What's wrong? What's happening?”

  “A rat!” Nina shouted as she squirmed under the sink. She cried hysterically, then she said, “Damn it... There's a fucking rat down here, Lucas! Help me!”

  Nina squirmed every which way as a filthy rat wandered the cupboard, nibbling on anything in its path. Although she was captured and restrained, she feared the rat more than anything at the moment.

  “Please settle down,” Micah said as he stood in the archway.

  Lucas and Kiara glanced over at the sheriff. Nina couldn't see him from the cupboard, but she recognized his soft voice. They remembered the sheriff's unexpected attack in the police cruiser.

  Micah said, “Well, I see you're all finally awake. To be honest with you, I was afraid I might have killed you. You never know with these types of things... Anyway, I hope y'all can accept my sincerest apologies for these unpleasant circumstances. I know: it's tight. This is a big house, I wish I could give you some room to breathe, but I can't have you all over the place. Not now, at least. So, I had to improvise.”

  “Fuck you!” Lucas shouted.

  Weak and depressed, Kiara stuttered, “Pl–Please, don't... don't hurt us. I just... I want to see my boyfriend. I won't tell anyone. Let us go. Please...”

  Nina whimpered in the cupboard, weaving and bobbing her head as she tried to dodge the rat. Her mind was addled by the ether, so she couldn't focus. Micah's voice horrified her, but she couldn't find the words to respond.

  Saliva
spurting from his lips, Lucas glared at Micah and shouted, “You won't get away with this, you bastard! People will be looking for us! They know we were on this trip. They'll find the cars and a real sheriff will track us to your house. Do you understand me? You're fucked!”

  “Be quiet,” Micah said, his eyes closed in frustration. The captives sniffled and cried, but they didn't say another word. Micah opened his eyes and said, “I don't want to complicate this. I'm a simple man, so let's keep this simple. Y'all are going to share this room until I'm done explaining the situation to you. I only need a few more minutes to get rid of the other bodies.”

  Other bodies—Nina bawled as she heard those words. Those words meant he had killed before and the bodies were still in the house. She thought about James and Andrea. Memories of their friendship throughout her three years of college flashed in her mind. Oh, God, they're really dead, she thought, I can feel it.

  Disregarding the excessive crying, Micah continued, “I don't want you to be afraid. At least, not now. All of you will have the opportunity to live. I don't want to kill you. I only want your saliva. The women's saliva, to be precise.”

  “What the hell?” Lucas muttered. “Listen, man, we don't give a crap about your sick fetishes. Just let us go. Okay? Don't do something you'll regret for... for saliva. I know it's lonely out here, but don't let it get to your head.”

  Micah responded, “I don't want to do this the hard way, but I will if I have to.” He glanced over his shoulder and said, “Daisy, you can come in now.”

  Daisy Wakefield stepped into the archway, a glass jar in her hands. Her blonde hair was tied in a neat bun and she wore a gray house dress. Naturally petite, her high heels propelled her to a five-five stature. She seemed bashful, keeping her head and shoulders low.

  Micah said, “This is Daisy, my wife. I'd appreciate it if you showed her some respect during your stay.”