Slash, p.18
Slash, page 18
“Is nighttime always this long?” Vince said.
“Try spending graveyard shifts in a squad car waiting for someone to speed past you. Night goes on forever,” Jerry replied.
Sharon found her rebar and positioned herself on the other side of the barricade. She looked like she was hoping the killer would break through at any moment. Revenge kept her hard and ready.
Lowering his voice, Jerry said, “You don’t really think that’s Otto out there, do you?”
Todd considered his words. “I honestly don’t know. That man. He didn’t look human. Not entirely. And we all saw how he ran. And how he threw that rebar all the way through that girl’s head. If he’s not Otto, what the hell is he?”
“And I’m the one that was hit in the head.”
“You’re a cop. Consider the evidence.”
“I know enough to discount eyewitness testimony.”
“Then just go by what you’ve seen, man.”
Bill crept toward them. “There is a way this could be possible.”
Jerry said, “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
“This Otto guy. If he was a Nazi officer, he had access to stuff the regular foot soldiers didn’t.”
“You mean meth?” Vince interjected.
“That was for Hitler and his inner circle,” Bill said.
“How the hell do you even know this?” Vince said. He and Heather had stopped shivering.
“I love Nazis,” Bill said.
When everyone gave him a look, he backtracked. “I’m fascinated by them. I read and watch anything I can about Hitler and his followers, even the crazy shit about them having bases beneath Antarctica and the moon.”
Todd shook his head. “Dude, your father is Jewish. Why the hell would you give two shits about the Nazis?”
Bill wagged a finger. “Know thy enemy. Trust me, no one is more intrigued by the Nazis and the Third Reich than the Jews. It’s so we know the signs and make sure it never happens again.”
Jerry was visibly weary of Bill’s fascination. “Bill, that guy out there is not some Nazi, so whatever Hitler fetish you have doesn’t matter.”
“You don’t get it,” Bill said. “The Nazis weren’t just into world domination. When it came to the upper ranks, they were obsessed with the occult and the paranormal. Hitler and maniacs like Rudolf Hess and Joseph Goebbels were always looking for ways to justify the Aryan race and find any way, even if it meant calling on Satan, to give them control of not just the world, but the future.”
“Come on, Bill,” Jerry said.
“I’m not making this up. They scoured the planet for mythical relics and supposed magical places. They may have been stoned and crazy and desperate, but maybe, just maybe, they actually found something.”
“Something like what?” Sharon asked with unguarded irritation.
“How the hell do I know? Something that makes it so this Otto guy can’t die.”
Todd had had enough. “Nazi zombies? Really, Bill?”
Bill shrugged. “You find a better explanation, I’m happy to hear it.”
“Give me ten seconds, I’ll give you fifty,” Jerry said. “Look, we just need to keep our cool and wait this fucker out. For all we know, Sharon and Todd bashed him good and he’s dead or licking his wounds somewhere. As soon as it’s light, we’ll get help and I’ll personally lead a search team to find this asshole.”
No one had anything left to say. Todd hated that a part of him was falling for Bill’s line about magic and Nazis and zombies. It was ludicrous.
But Bill had seen the man’s face, just like Todd. He wasn’t sure Jerry would be so dismissive if he had as well.
He checked his phone. Less than four hours until dawn.
If you can hear me, Ash, I think we’re going to need your help. You’ve been through this. Let me know what to do.
Something crackled in the dark outside the bungalow.
Whup!
“What was that?” Sharon said, instantly on the alert.
The stench of sulfur wafted into the room.
It was followed by the distinctive snap and pop of flames.
Tendrils of smoke snaked through the window.
“Goddammit,” Jerry hissed, sticking his head out of the window for a second before pulling it back in. “He set the roof on fire.”
They all looked up. They could hear the dry, rotted timber embrace the flame. It wouldn’t take long for the entire place to be engulfed.
“Looks like he got tired of waiting,” Todd said.
Jerry’s eyes darted around the room. “Which means we have to exit in the direction he least expects.”
“Just like how he caught us off guard by coming through the window,” Sharon said.
“Exactly. Problem is, I don’t know how this psycho thinks.”
Todd’s gaze pinged between the window and the doorway. They had a 50-50 chance of making the correct choice. But either way, they would be too slow to gain any ground on him. He wasn’t even sure if Jerry could walk or if Vince could go far before getting dizzy and falling.
He looked across the room. A faded painting of a bucolic park with a lake hung crookedly on the wall. The roof groaned, embers slipping through the cracks. If they didn’t get out of here soon, they would be burned alive.
Todd put his hand to the wall, his fingers nearly pushing through the ancient drywall.
He backed up, lifted his right boot and smashed it into the wall. The rotted structure gave way, nearly opening all the way to the outside.
“Start tearing the barricade down,” he ordered Bill and Sharon. “Make as much noise as you can.” When Bill tossed the door aside, Todd timed his next kick to mask the sound. His foot went completely through the wall. Vince saw what he was doing and left Heather to help. He had to put an arm over Todd’s shoulders to steady himself. After a half dozen blows each, there was a sizeable hole in the wall.
Todd dropped to his hands and knees and eyeballed the opening. There was no one out there waiting for them.
A flaming board fell through the ceiling, nearly braining Heather. Black smoke poured into the room. They were running out of time.
“Heather, Sharon, start screaming. I’ll go out first. If I survive, follow me.”
Every particle of Todd’s being recoiled at the thought of being the first outside. For all he knew, the second he stepped through the hole, the killer would be there waiting for him.
The gun was little reassurance, but it was better than nothing.
“We have to get the fuck outta here,” Jerry said, hobbling across the room, his gun swinging between the window and the now-empty doorway.
Another board collapsed. The flames touched the threadbare rug, followed by a jarring whup!
Todd leaped through the ragged hole. The back of his jacket caught on a shard of lathing. Half of him was outside in the mercifully empty cold. He struggled to pull himself out. If he asked for help – and in his panic he was moments away from screaming – he would give his position away.
If he didn’t extricate himself soon, his friends would be burned alive.
He had to set the gun aside so his fingers could find purchase in the dead weeds and dirt. He dug the toes of his boots in and pushed and pulled at the same time.
His efforts gave him an extra four inches of freedom.
Todd felt hands on his legs and butt. They gave a great push. The lathing dug into his back. He was sure it had shredded his coat and shirts and punctured his skin. The pain was instant. It sprinted up his spine and locked his jaw.
Still they pushed. He wanted to cry out in pain, to tell them to stop, but he couldn’t let one syllable escape.
Something snapped and he was finally able to scrabble out. Hurt and panicked, he grabbed the gun and checked the area behind the burning bungalow. Jerry had been right. The killer was expecting them to run out the front door.
A dull thud almost made him pull the trigger. He looked down and saw they’d tossed his backpack through the hole. Heather came next, followed by Sharon and Bill.
“Oh my God, Todd,” Heather whispered. She put a steadying hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t a clue what she was so concerned about.
“Don’t move,” Bill said.
“Why?”
Todd followed Bill’s gaze to his back. The lathing stuck from his lower back like a stake through a vampire’s chest. Seeing it made the pain suddenly worse.
“I don’t think it’s in too deep,” Heather said so softly, Todd could barely hear her. He turned his head to see Vince crawling out.
Heather ripped off her coat and stuck the sleeve in Todd’s mouth. “It will help.”
She yanked the lathing out before he could tell her to remove it carefully. Hot blood ran down his back, soaking his ass and the back of his thighs. His teeth clamped down on Heather’s coat. His throat sealed up, preventing the yowl of agony that rocketed from deep in his core.
“Stay still so I can see what we’re dealing with.”
Todd said, “There’s no time. Where’s Jerry?”
The damaged bungalow groaned like a giant awaking from a long slumber. Flames had devoured it to the point where its brightness hurt his eyes. Half of the roof on the living room side completely collapsed.
Bending down hurt like blue blazes. Todd stuck his hand through the hole, hoping to come in contact with his friend as he tried to get out.
He touched nothing but boiling air.
Getting down even farther, he looked into the bungalow.
Jerry lay facedown on the floor, overcome by the smoke and heat.
He had to get him out of there…and fast.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I have to go in and get him,” Todd said, somehow managing to keep his voice down despite his rising panic.
As if in answer, the bungalow’s foundation moaned. Now the sides of the house were caving in as well as the ceiling.
“The rest of you run and find a safe place to hide.”
“We’re not leaving you,” Vince said.
There was no time to argue. Todd tossed the gun to Vince. It was a careless and stupid thing to do, but he didn’t have time for caution. With his back wailing in torment, Todd plunged through the hole. A chunk of wood, engulfed in flame, fell toward him. He put up his arm just in time to deflect it before it hit him in the face.
The smoke roiled, filling the room. He could only find Jerry by getting on his belly. Each breath felt like hot needles in his lungs and ended with violent coughs. He crawled his way to Jerry and pounded on his shoulder.
“Jerry. Jerry!”
Shouting in here wasn’t a problem. The cacophony of the flames drowned out his voice.
His friend didn’t respond.
Through the smoke, Todd saw tiny flames on the back of Jerry’s jacket. He slapped them down, hoping that would wake Jerry. It didn’t.
Wood and flame cracked above and around him. Todd couldn’t see a thing. In fact, he couldn’t even find the hole in the wall.
He grabbed Jerry’s shoulders and tugged, careful to keep his head down. If he lifted it just an inch too high, he was going to draw in a breath of that thick, black smoke and it was goodbye forever after that. Drawing Jerry toward him while he was on his belly wasn’t easy. Every muscle in his arms felt as if they were on the breaking point.
Todd backed out slowly, in constant fear of being buried under burning timber any second. The bottoms of his feet touched a wall.
Dammit! If he’d somehow gotten turned around, he wouldn’t have enough time to find the makeshift exit.
A coughing fit hit him violently. He saw bright sparks all around him. He couldn’t tell if that was his brain firing off warning shots that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen or actual sparks from all of the falling timber.
He looked behind him.
Smoke was billowing through the hole just a few feet to his left.
Making the adjustment was difficult, Jerry’s dead weight – he prayed it wasn’t, in fact, dead weight – almost too much for him.
The roof fell in just inches from Jerry’s boots.
Todd buried his mouth in his shirt, took a deep breath and got to his knees. Using the last surge of his flagging strength, he tugged Jerry close and backed out of the hole.
Cold night air suffused with acrid smoke was little relief.
No one else was around to help Todd drag Jerry ten feet from the collapsing bungalow. Once he felt he was safe enough away, he scooted to grab his backpack and collapsed next to his friend, his back feeling as if it were going to break from the savage coughs that made it nearly impossible to breathe.
He propped himself up on his elbows and watched the bungalow implode. The fire licked high into the sky. The heat was overwhelming.
Rolling over, he checked Jerry’s neck for a pulse. At first, his heart sank when he couldn’t find it. That was because he had his fingers on the wrong spot on Jerry’s neck. On the second try, he found it.
“We gotta get moving, buddy,” he said.
His back popped and his lungs felt as if they were going to flop out of his mouth as he stood and took hold of Jerry’s hands to drag him even farther away.
Once they were far enough that he no longer felt as if he were getting a massive sunburn, he fell down again.
If the killer was close by, Todd and Jerry would make easy pickings. Todd wasn’t even sure if Jerry had holstered his gun or if it was underneath the burning wreckage.
Neither could run.
They were sitting ducks.
Todd didn’t have the strength to worry about it.
He couldn’t stop coughing, hacking up huge wads of what he was sure was black phlegm, letting it drop from his mouth into the tall, dry grass.
The only thing that gave him pause was hearing Jerry cough.
“Oh thank God,” Todd said. “I didn’t have it in me to give you CPR.”
Jerry winced, opening one watery eye toward him. “Where are…we?”
“Not being roasted to death, that’s where.” Todd took a tremulous breath of clean air but coughed it all back up instantly. The edges of his vision got all fuzzy.
They sounded like patients at an old-time tuberculosis ward for several minutes, neither drawing enough air to speak in full sentences.
Once they settled down, Jerry fumbled for his holster and heaved a sigh of relief. He slipped his gun out and showed it to Todd. “Silver lining.”
“Tarnished.”
“Where is everybody?”
“I told them not to wait for me. Hell, I didn’t even think I was getting us out of there alive.”
Jerry shifted to his side, his weight on his bad leg. “Man, that hurts. I’m getting my ass handed to me by this place.” He managed to get to his feet. “Looks like they went that way.”
Todd saw the tamped-down grass, heading toward the main hotel.
“Why would they go back there?”
Jerry took a pen light from his pocket and scanned the ground. “I was afraid of that.”
Even though Todd’s body wanted nothing to do with being upright and mobile, he forced himself to stand. He stumbled toward Jerry, looking down at what the small cone of light was illuminating.
“Is that blood?”
Jerry grunted loudly as he bent to touch his fingers to it. His fingertips came back red. “Yep.” He looked around the area, several times looking like he was about to fall. “The only good thing is, there’s not much of it.”
“It could have been Heather’s bandaging coming loose,” Todd said, now worried that he hadn’t done a good enough job to keep her from bleeding out.
“Don’t you find it strange how we’ve been sitting out here lit up by the fire and that maniac hasn’t come around?”
Todd wiped his forehead and stared at the smudge of gray on his palm. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been too damn tired to care. But now that you say it….”
“Which means he’s not here. He doesn’t seem like the type that would pass up a free kill. You get my drift?”
They looked to the hotel in the dark distance. Todd listened for any shouting or screaming, but the snapping flames dominated the night.
“Guess where we’re going,” Jerry said.
“At least Vince has the gun.”
“I just hope he doesn’t shoot himself.”
They limped away from the burning bungalow. Todd said, “We should be hearing sirens soon. The fire may have nearly killed us, but it’ll bring the cavalry.”
Jerry grabbed Todd’s shoulder and leaned into him as they walked. “They better haul ass. The less time we’re here, the better.”
* * *
Todd wondered if Ash had walked this same path, dazed and battered, praying, like he was, that she would make it out alive. There had once been a winding paved road beneath their feet. It was now cracked gravel and sprouting weeds. Walking was treacherous, but it was far from the tree line where the killer could be waiting.
The sirens got louder and Todd saw flashing lights in the distance. The only sight and sound that would have been sweeter was the rumble of the army coming to their rescue.
“Your people are here,” he said to Jerry.
“Good. We need lots of ’em.”
“Maybe we should split up. I’ll look for Vince and the gang, you go meet the cops and firefighters at the bungalow.”
The foot of Jerry’s bad leg scraped along the shattered drive. He hissed loudly. “Oh yeah, because splitting up always works so well in the movies.”
“This isn’t a movie.”
“Exactly. Which is why I’m doubling down on our staying together.”
The hotel loomed ahead of them.
Todd said, “You think he got to them?”
Jerry sucked on his teeth and spit. “If he did, it was while we were in there,” he said, jerking his thumb behind them. “We would have heard them screaming by now. If they’re lucky, he might have spotted them but they got away. If they’re smart, and they are, they’re hiding, but someplace where they can’t get trapped in a corner and too big to burn down so fast.”
