Slash, p.4
Slash, page 4
“Did she ever worry that the Wraith would try to find her?”
Here’s where Todd had to lie. Ash’s all-consuming fear of that madman coming back to finish what he’d started had plagued her until the very end. Terror of the man the world had dubbed the Wraith because he was a faceless, nameless killer, had denied her peace, especially at night. Ash had stashed knives everywhere throughout the house, as well as aluminum baseball bats and cans of pepper spray. Todd had found many of them as he stumbled through the house these past few weeks, but he knew there were more tucked away in corners.
“Her main concern was that he was still at large and could cross another innocent person’s path. The Wraith, like all killers, was…is a coward. I think he knew that we would be prepared should he dare to come around. It’s not so easy to murder someone when they’re not unarmed and unsuspecting. So, no, she didn’t think he would come for her again.”
He didn’t add that deep down, he wished the Wraith would. Todd would be there, waiting, and the story would turn out very different the second time around.
John raised an eyebrow. “Wow. That’s actually encouraging to hear. It makes her even more of an inspiration for all women who have been abused or worse.”
That’s exactly what Todd wanted. He needed to erase the idea that the Wraith had won, that Ash had never truly gotten away. Like it or not, a legend had formed around Ash, and Todd needed to make sure it wasn’t tarnished by her suicide.
Jay said, “Even though she wasn’t able to give a description of the Wraith, was she able to remember exactly how the night unfolded? I mean, from the point of her friend, Sheri Viola, being attacked.”
By attacked, he meant having her Achilles tendon severed as she was stepping into one of the abandoned luxury bungalows.
Todd shook his head. “No.”
Another lie.
“Do you think it’s almost a good thing the details had been unreachable for her?” Jay asked.
“Yes. Would you want to remember every graphic moment of the night your friends were slaughtered and you spent six hours running for your life?”
Both hosts blanched.
“I’m sure no one would,” Jay said.
“Exactly. Our subconscious knows what’s best for us and it acts accordingly,” Todd said. At least until the nightmares are left to roam free, he thought.
“Todd, I have a question and I’m not sure if it’s been asked before,” John said. Todd prepared himself. “You were with Ashley and her friends that day. There are numerous reports from people in Topperville that took note of all of you because, well, it’s a small town and people in small towns are wary of outsiders.”
Where was he going with this? Todd had a plan today and thought he knew the questions because he’d heard them all before.
“The theory is that the Wraith was a drifter who had been hiding out in the old Hayden Resort and Ashley and her friends had the misfortune of stumbling into him. Now, I don’t want to sound insensitive, but do you think maybe the Wraith was in town, saw you and followed them to the Hayden?”
A little confused, Todd said, “Sure, that was always a possibility.”
“Because you were, well….” John ran his hand through his beard before finishing. “Maybe the fact that you were an interracial couple set him off. I’ve been to Topperville several times and I don’t think I saw a single African American. Ashley and Sheri and Jamal would have stood out.”
Ash always stood out because she was beautiful and bright and full of life.
Jay said, “I get the feeling that there’s an element there, and in many places around the country, that would still object to an interracial couple. It’s disheartening to think in this day and age that’s still the case, but we can’t put our blinders on just because it makes us uncomfortable. Racism exists. Evil exists. Sometimes, the two intersect and horrible things happen.”
Todd sat back in the creaking chair. “Wait, are you saying those good people were murdered because Ash was black?”
“It is something to consider,” John said. “Or that she was black and with a white man.”
“So, she’s to fucking blame for all of this happening?”
Jay was quick to say, “No, we don’t blame Ashley at all. We’re just trying to evaluate everything and come up with a motive. Killing in the name of racism isn’t something new.”
“If that’s the case, why did he kill Fred and Addie? They were white.”
Todd wondered if the microphone could pick up the sound of his teeth grinding.
“They were also witnesses,” John said. “Or maybe it was bloodlust that couldn’t be stopped once it started.”
Todd glowered at the smug sons of bitches. “Essentially, according to your half-assed theory, Ashley and I brought this on them.”
“That’s not what we mean,” Jay said.
Todd raised his palm and cut him off. “You can sit around and speculate all day and night instead of being productive members of society. That’s your prerogative. The truth is, none of us will ever know. Even if you caught the Wraith, I doubt he’d ever tell. Because even he wouldn’t know. What drives a man to slaughter four people he’s never met and have never done a thing to him? You’d have to dissect their brain and find the rot to know. But to say it was racism is fucking laughable. I know exactly who to blame.”
He didn’t speak, letting his words hang in the air and distance between them. He might have been thrown by their asinine hate-crime conjecture, but he’d gotten to exactly where he’d wanted to go nonetheless.
“Please,” Jay said, “tell us. If anyone would know, it’s you, the person closest to Ashley.”
Todd wanted to smack the inquisitive, anticipatory looks off their faces.
Finally, he said, “You.”
John pulled away from the camera. “Me?”
“Yes. And him.” He pointed at Jay. “And all of you listening to this. Anyone who idolizes serial killers and mass murderers, who wants to romanticize a so-called final girl, you are all responsible for Ash’s death. Because you couldn’t fucking let it go. You gave a sick, twisted murderer infamy. You pinned your horror movie fantasies on a poor woman who just needed to be left alone. She refused to just disappear because she wasn’t going to let you take her name, her home, away from her. The Wraith had already robbed her of just about everything. So she took a stand, and you never once let her move on. For five years, all of you have been reopening the wound over and over again. You did it so goddamned much, you made her bleed to death. Who was the Wraith? The Wraith is you! Except he killed quickly, where you tortured Ash slowly, day by day, taking pieces of her ounce by ounce until she had nothing left inside her. Ashley King was not your final girl. You could never have her, just like the Wraith couldn’t have her. So what did you do? You finished what he started.”
Jay and John were pummeled into silence.
Todd continued. “You want to do something good for once? Then you do this. You spread the word. Let the Wraith know that I’m right here at 1980 Lake Avenue. He still has unfinished business, and I’m happy to be the one to end it.”
Chapter Six
Vince brought a twelve-pack of some IPA strong enough to use his palate as a punching bag. Todd politely finished one bottle, then switched to regular Budweiser. They sat on the back patio, warming by the fire pit on a chilly October night. It had been a little over a week since Todd’s now-viral appearance on The Killer Podcast. He’d asked his boss for an extension on his leave and it had been granted, though Todd sensed he couldn’t push things much further.
“Look what else I brought,” Vince said. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag filled with cigars.
“I haven’t smoked a cigar in years,” Todd said, his breath curling in the glow of the porch light.
Vince opened the bag, unwrapped a Nat Sherman cigar and handed it to him along with a butane lighter. “Well, I figured a condemned man should get the good stuff.”
Todd bit the end off, spit it into the grass and lit up. “If that’s the case, you could have brought a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue instead of that crazy super hops concoction.”
Vince lit his cigar, inhaled and blew out a long funnel of smoke. “If Heather saw the bill, I’d be condemned right along with you.”
Not for the first time, Todd patted his jacket pocket just to feel the unyielding reassurance of the knife he kept on him at all times.
With the windows closed in all the houses around them and no one about because of the chill, the yard was completely silent. Todd, channeling Ash, was grateful for it. If someone were to try to creep up alongside the house, they’d hear them without any trouble.
As if on cue, a bright shaft of light swept past the alley between the houses, flicking across the lawn. Todd got up and ran down the alley with his hand in his pocket. A pair of teen girls sat in a blue Honda, staring at the house. One of them got out and placed a supermarket bouquet of flowers on the curb alongside all of the others that had been piling up.
Sighing, Todd traipsed back to the yard and slumped into the Adirondack chair. Vince had his head back, puffing away while looking at the stars. “More groupies?” he asked.
“Yeah. Don’t forget to bring some flowers home for Heather. Another bunch was just added to the chuckle patch.”
“Maybe giving out your address wasn’t such a good thing,” Vince said. “We thought it was bad before when people really had to search to find it. Now, you can’t get a moment’s peace. You look like you haven’t slept for days.”
There was no denying it. Todd had mirrors. He could see the swelling dark bags under his glassy eyes. Lately, there’d been more hair in the drain and his color was off. He seemed to be turning gray, from his hair to his flesh.
“I wasn’t thinking things through in the moment,” Todd said. “I was so focused on the Wraith and letting the final girl cultists know what I thought of them, I forgot that they’d be on this place like white on rice. I caught four of them taking pictures of the basement on their hands and knees at two in the morning.”
Vince eyed the bulge in Todd’s jacket pocket. “If you don’t learn to ignore them and get some sleep, you’re going to accidentally hurt someone…or worse. Exhaustion does not make for sound decision-making.”
Todd grinned. “Now you’re starting to sound like Detective Chavez. He was pretty pissed when he first got word. Something about I’m not making things any easier by presenting myself as a target. They have a patrol car swinging by all the time now.”
The bottle of IPA clinked against the leg of the chair when Vince placed it on the ground between them. “He’s right. This Wraith guy, even if he’s still alive, I doubt he’s plugged in and checking the news. You only opened yourself up for more of the very thing that you hate the most.”
“But as long as there’s even a slight chance he’d go for the bait, I had to take it.”
Officially, there was no question that the Wraith had survived the night. Extensive DNA testing of the blood that had splashed all about the resort had linked it to the victims. There wasn’t a drop unaccounted for. There was hope that perhaps he’d suffered a wound that led to internal bleeding and he’d curled up and died in a hole somewhere.
Todd never thought it had ended so simply. Neither had Ash.
“How about this?” Vince said, the wood of his chair creaking as if it might break at any moment. “It’s not a school night for me. Why don’t I stay here and keep watch while you get some shuteye? You can finish the cigar, have a couple more beers and pass out. I did guard duty in the army, so you know I’m trained and qualified.”
“You keep drinking those and you’ll be asleep before me.” In the darkness, just beyond the cone of light, were six lawn bags filled with final girl flowers, gifts and food, including trays of lasagna and homemade pies. The garbage men would not be happy with him when they came on Monday.
Vince upended the bottle and poured the rest of his beer out. “Consider me cut off.”
“Look, you don’t have to do this. I’m okay.”
His friend grabbed his arm. “I do and you’re not. I’m not gonna be the one to push you toward therapy, because I tried it and it was just a big waste of time and money. Plus, I know how stubborn you are. The whole thing will have failed in your mind before you ever stepped in a shrink’s office.”
Ash’s lack of progress despite the constant psychiatric intervention had cemented Todd’s belief that the whole thing was a crock. No, there was no way he’d ever go to a shrink.
“And tomorrow, we can think of a way to get you out of this funk. And maybe clean the place up a bit. You, my friend, are no housekeeper.”
Todd gave a pained, brief laugh. “Yeah, that was Ash’s domain. Everything had to be in its place. Funny, I can’t remember if she was like that when we were dating in high school. That seems like something I shouldn’t forget. There’s a lot of shit that’s just, I don’t know, foggy.”
Vince gave him the butane lighter to reignite his cigar.
“And that’s why it’s bedtime at the Alamo tonight. Seriously, before you hurt someone, and not the someone you really wanna hurt. If The Wraith comes by, I promise I’ll wake you up.”
Todd drank his beer, his chest feeling as if it were caving in on itself. His body had taken the offer of uninterrupted sleep before his mind. His eyes felt warm and his vision wavered. He let the silent tears snake down his cheeks.
“I just want that motherfucker to pay for what he did, man.” He sniffled and took a puff of his cigar. “She came back to me, but he took her away for good at the same time. Jesus, Vince, is it too much to ask to set things right?”
His friend didn’t answer for what felt like eons. Todd didn’t look at him, because he thought he heard Vince sniff back a tear too. “In this fucked-up world, yes, sometimes it is too much to ask.”
* * *
Todd heard Vince knocking around the living room, the television on low.
Sleep.
It would be great to actually sleep through the night. That’s if he even could. He felt exhausted enough to sleep for days, but his body was so used to jumping up at the slightest sound, he wasn’t sure he could make three straight hours.
The bed was a rumpled mess. The comforter was mostly on the floor, the pillows scattered to all four corners of the bed. He sat for a moment, trying to calm his mind, when he finally took notice of the funk in the room. How long had it been since he’d changed the sheets? He hadn’t. Ash had been the last to change them. That had been over a month ago.
Fresh, clean sheets. Whenever Ash went on a jag of insomnia, she’d tell Todd she needed fresh, clean sheets. Together, they’d tear off the old and make the bed and she was right. For that night, at least, she would sleep.
Todd picked the comforter off the floor and tossed it into a ball on the chaise longue Ash insisted he buy and set under the window. Next went the top sheet, and then he yanked the bottom sheet off, catching a face full of sweat and tears. Phew, it was bad. How had he not noticed it before?
Rummaging under the sink in the attached bathroom, he found the can of Febreze and sprayed it liberally on the mattress. He stripped the pillows and did the same with them, then sat back and let it settle in for a bit.
Maybe I should flip the mattress, he thought. If he was going for a fresh start, that would solidify it. He ran his fingers over Ash’s side of the mattress. She’d gotten so skinny, her body hadn’t even made a lasting impression. It was as firm and unblemished as the day they’d bought it, whereas his side had a marked indentation.
No, he wouldn’t flip it. He would turn it around so Ash’s side would be on his side. Despite having the whole bed to himself now, he still needed to sleep closest to the door. When she’d agreed to move in with him, he’d insisted on it. She’d first smiled, and then cried, holding him tight. He hadn’t needed to tell her that even in their sleep, he would always put himself between her and her worst fears. If the Wraith were to find them in the dead of night, he’d have to go through Todd.
Todd slipped his hands under the mattress and lifted. It was heavy; his construction-honed muscles had weakened over the last month but not so much that he couldn’t easily move it around. The corner of the mattress clipped his night table and sent his phone charger and magazines to the floor.
“Shit.”
He adjusted his grip on the mattress, lifting it higher and shuffling along the edge of the bed frame.
“What the heck?”
The corner of an envelope poked out from between the mattress and box spring. He pulled the envelope free and let the mattress fall back.
“You okay in there, buddy?” Vince called out.
“Yeah. I’m cool.”
Seeing his name printed on the envelope in Ash’s looping cursive took his breath away. He lost all feeling in his legs and was suddenly sitting on the bare mattress. He turned the envelope over, his hands shaking. It hadn’t been sealed. Todd had to take several deep breaths before he could gather up the courage to lift the flap.
Inside was a single folded sheet of paper. He gently laid the envelope down and unfolded the note.
The police, and even his mother after the funeral, had scoured the house, searching for a suicide note. Without one, the possibility that her death had been murder and not suicide was greater. In the end there had been no signs of foul play. Everyone but Todd had lamented over Ashley not leaving some parting words.
For Todd, no words were needed. He knew the fear she’d lived with.
Reading the note was difficult through the veil of tears. He rubbed his eyes and composed himself.
“Oh, Ash.”
He read the note slowly and carefully, his chest heaving.
