Chasing Shadows (34 page)

Evan shakes his head. "So tell me how you knew
the dark room was in the basement of Luis Finch's ex-boss's
ex-wife's apartment building."

I blink clearing some tears. I'd laugh but it
hurts. "You're not going to believe me. You'll just hit me some
more. What's my motivation?"

Evan glowers but there's a sparkle in his eyes.
He crosses behind me. I hear him rustling around back there. I
crane to see him but it’s useless. After a long, long second I feel
his breath on my arm. Sturgis reaches his right hand around the
pole and grabs my rib cage where he hit me. Ow. He applies extra
pressure as he moves his hand down along my hip. He reaches in and
wedges his fingers between my thighs. With a jerking motion he
forces them apart. His breathing is ragged. I stare at the air
ducts. This hurts, and it sucks but it’s not like I wasn't
expecting it. His huge man hand cups my twat and he massages
lightly. This would be more bearable if he hadn't just kicked the
shit out of me there. I make some involuntary noise of pain and
stare hard at the metal duct work. Evan applies more pressure,
moving his fingers in sequence like he’s playing a piano. Fuck the
pain is sharp and achy at the same time. I wonder if he practices
this.

His breath comes faster against my arm. If I
turned my head I might be able to see his face around it. Now he
moves slowly. His body is making contact with the pole, and with my
strung up self. I feel the soft weave of his polo shirt rub across
my arm pit and rib cage. Evan’s face is right in mine now and I'm
still not looking at him. I'm looking up, up, up to the ceiling.
With a thrust he jams his right hip and thigh between my legs. I
feel his hip bone, it’s sharp. My legs won't spread
that
far
because they're tied together and to the pole. He removes his right
hand from my twat and clutches my thigh pulling it up so I straddle
him. It feels like my foot is about to be ripped off at the ankle.
He rams his hip between my legs, really putting his weight behind
it. I notice two things. One: Sturgis is using his right hand when
before he hit me with his left. Does this mean he's ambidextrous,
or that he's doing something else with his left hand? Two: Sturgis
does not have a stiffy. Interesting. Now his hand moves up to my
left breast and I understand why he left the bra on, even if he
doesn’t. He grabs that thing like its money and squeezes hard. This
drives the under wire deep into my flesh. I think he might slice it
off this way. That is if he doesn’t pull it off first. Is this
anything like a mammogram? I’m whimpering, fuck, are you kidding
me? I feel betrayed by my sissy, stupid voice box. A few more
seconds of this and he releases my boob. I can feel bruises
forming.

Sturgis is breathing in my face. He’s moved his
head forward so I can’t see above him or around him. His breath
smells like ass. Did he do that on purpose? Did he plan on messing
me up, and decide not to brush his teeth for a couple of days
before hand just to add to the revulsion? I pick a spot on his
forehead. I’m
not
meeting his eyes.

“Look at me.” He growls.

“Fuck you.” I growl back. Evan slams his hand
into my oblique... Funny, that I should think of it as an oblique
at a time like this. His fingers start to dig in. I think he’s
going to take a chunk out of me. He ducks his head as if to kiss
me, bite more likely. This gives me an idea, and before I have time
to analyze it, I bend my head and dig my teeth into his neck, right
where his jaw connects. He screams, angry and surprised. I hold on.
I picture myself a pit bull with a jaw that locks. There’s no way
I’m letting loose of this son of a bitch. I taste blood and sweat,
but then my blood was already pooling in my mouth. Flash: what if
he has AIDS? Fuck it. What are my chances of living through tonight
anyway?

Sturgis is pummeling me now, trying to get me
to release him. He’s not saying anything just, slam, slam, slam
against my ribs and stomach, my head and neck. I hear hot air
escape through my bleeding nose with every strike. I’d feel better
if he was yelling. He still seems in control. I imagine he could
just pull back but then he must figure I’d take a chunk out of his
neck if he did. Eventually he presses into me. What’s he thinking?
His meaty, hairy neck rams into my battered face. I tighten my jaw
and move my head a bit from side to side. I taste his raw flesh. I
could literally eat some of him right now if I wanted to. Too late,
I realize his strategy. He’s trying to suffocate me. It’s working.
I wait a beat to try and figure a way out of it. If I could move my
right leg maybe I could ram his nuts but I’m already stretched to
the limits of the zip ties. Well fuck. I relax my hold and jerk my
head to the side so I can breathe. As soon as my teeth are out of
his throat, Sturgis staggers back holding his breath.

“Goddamn bitch!” He growls. Now I can see his
hands. In his left hand he’s holding a baseball bat. Delightful,
riddle solved. I wonder how many times he can hit me with that
before I die. “You tell me right now how you found that dark room,
or I’m gonna break every bone in your body before I let you
die.”

“I followed a ghost.” Whoa, where’d that come
from? How is following a ghost more believable that following an
invisible bird? Evan’s expression is strange. His anger has just
evaporated. Maybe I’m onto something. Not that I think he’s going
to let me live, but I might get a few minutes out of it. “I saw
Kelly.” I blurt, blood slides down my face and lands on my collar
bone. “I didn’t know that was her name at the time, but I saw a
girl just like me with flaming red hair. She was naked, and soaking
wet, and she had bruise marks on her neck. I’ve been following
Kelly’s ghost.” See? I
can
lie. Sturgis turns pale. “Did you
strangle her?”

His lip is trembling. “She told me to.” He
whispers. I don’t believe him. I don’t think he believes himself,
but I think he wants to. “She begged me to choke her while we did
it. We were at a party. There were lots of girls there. Mads was
blowing some guy who owns a software company.” He meets my eyes,
pleading. “See? I’m not a bad guy. They’re not worth my life,
either of ‘em. I don’t deserve this, what you’ve done. After that I
tried to get Mads to quit whoring. I loved her.” I believe he
thinks I should feel sorry for him. He obviously feels sorry for
himself. I picture the hard on he had while he was killing Mads,
and form my own idea of what happened to Kelly. “I wanted us to
settle down. She...” He breaks eye contact. His voice lowers. “I
busted her. I just wanted her to stop, but then she was going to
the paper. I can’t go to jail.”

I sigh, and the pain this causes reminds me
that this douche bag is going to kill me. “You did
Luis.”

He hefts the bat like he’s weighing it. “Had
to.”

I grit my teeth. “One thing just kind of leads
to another doesn’t it?” I lick something solid from my left eye
tooth. Probably some of him.

Sturgis lifts the bat like a professional. “I
tried to warn you.”

I laugh. “The spade? That was too cheesy for
words. How am I going to take a garden tool seriously?”

He does a practice swing and steps closer.
“Why’d you come to the bar? You’ve been dogging me every day. Why’d
you have to chase me down where I relax? I
need
to
relax.”

I spit out some blood and it lands on my bra.
“Followed the ghost." I say dryly. “Had no idea you’d be there. If
I’m dogging you, it’s because Kelly is dogging you.”

Sturgis shakes his head. “
You
are full
of shit, Meegan Jones.” And he swings. I pull my head left and
twist my body around the pole as much as I can. The bat makes
contact with my right arm. I scream... and scream... Holy shit!
Holy fuck! Oh my God, that hurts! I’m sobbing. The dim room is a
blur through my tears. “Goddamn it, you stupid bitch!” Sturgis
screams at me. “Hold still! I’m being merciful! I was trying to
kill you quickly!” He stomps around in a little circle, looking for
all the world like a giant, evil six year old. “I didn’t mean to
break your arm, you little whore. You think this is
fun
for
me? This is a fucking nightmare.” He stops and looks at me. “Now
hold still this time.” He sucks in a breath and straightens his
spine. He’s crazy.

I feel death coming. I look at the air ducts
like I promised myself I would. What’s that? I blink rapidly trying
to clear my eyes. Is that a shade? “Please!” I beg. “If you care
about me at all, I want to live.”

Sturgis thinks I’m talking to him. “Why would I
care about you?” He scoffs. “You ruined my life.” With that he sets
his jaw and raises the bat. Is that a squeak I hear or am I making
it up? He winds up to swing.

I close my eyes. There comes this horrible
screech followed by a clang and a loud floppy thud. Did he hit me?
Am I dead? Is that the sound death makes? Kind of complicated
rhythmically. I wait a few seconds and open my eyes. Well, I
suppose that is the sound death makes for Evan Sturgis. I giggle.
The air duct has come down. I know those things aren’t very heavy
but it hit him just right. I laugh louder. I’m so relieved. The
corner of the joint looks like it’s embedded in Evan’s eye. A huge
pool of blood has already formed. You know how a head wound is,
bleeds like a mother fucker. I take some shallow
breaths.

Yes that
is
a shade. I’m so happy to see
it. I grin, it hurts but I keep grinning. The shade is a deep,
smoky black. It’s misting right by Evan’s head. It’s sending little
tendrils of smoke downward. What
is
it doing? I love it,
whatever its doing. I love, love, love you. I think at it. The
billowy shape of black grows fuller, and spreads out, settling into
the pool of blood.

“Huh.” Knock yourself out, I think. It lays
flat now, and I can’t even see any light reflecting off of the
blood. The shade seems to be boiling slowly. It turns over on
itself again and again. A minute ago it was all ethereal and smoky.
Now it looks more like pudding... Now like wet cement. I can see
blood pooling on its surface and pouring back off as it rotates in
the air. The shade isn’t black anymore either. It’s lightening and
solidifying. It’s absorbing the blood.

I hang here on my pillar. The zip ties cut into
my wrists and the horrible pains in my body make everything seem
like a dream. I hang here and watch in stunned and silent
disbelief, as what was a familiar vapor slowly becomes a tiny human
shaped figure in shades of gray. I say human shaped, because it’s
certainly not human. The face is all wrong. Big, big eyes like
moons dominate a tiny head no larger than a cantaloupe. It has a
spritely little person’s body, the size of a spider monkey,
hairless, muscles like delicate ropes, big hands and feet, not as
big as mine, but large on its frame.

The creature seems amazed at itself. It takes a
huge breath, which dramatically expands its little chest. It
shifts, sitting with its legs extended in the blood. I can see now
that
it
is a he. He stares at his hands and grins. The sight
causes me to gasp. His smile curves in a big C shape from just
under one enormous eye, down to his chin and back up to the other
eye. His teeth are pointy. Its all eyes and mouth,
creepy.

Now he looks up at me and jumps to his feet.
He’s coated in blood and slime. He scurries, moving fast as a
cockroach, to my side. I stare down at him as he disappears behind
the pole. I feel some tiny vibrations. I believe he’s climbing up.
I listen for any noises he might make, but all I can hear is my own
labored and liquid breathing.

“Thanks.” I gurgle, and now I yelp. He’s poked
his head around my unbroken arm. His face is only inches from mine.
It looks more flesh toned up close. Well, from what I can tell
through the layer of Evan’s blood. He grips my underarm, which is
turned out due to my splendid hanging position, and he moves his
feet so they rest against my side just below my left boob. The
pressure they make is excruciating. I whimper. The sound makes him
start. He looks down. A horrified expression crosses his tiny face,
making his mouth appear to shrink as his eyes expand taking over
his countenance. He has a nose but it’s utterly
unremarkable.

“Cute button nose.” I whisper.

He grins and releases his grip dropping to the
ground at my feet. This is crazy. Am I making this up? The creature
tilts his head back like a book cover and opens his mouth, sticking
his tongue out flat. I’m confused at this. I bend my head forward
to get a better look, and a glob of blood and snot drops from my
mouth. It lands on his outstretched tongue. He sucks it in, quick
like a bunny, and swallows loud: Gallump. And that’s it for me. I
pass clean out.

Chapter Sixteen

Pain. Sharp, dull, throbbing, stabbing, aching,
shooting; you name it, I've got it. So far I haven't managed to
open my eyes, but I can tell someone must have moved me because I
feel my arms at my sides. I wouldn't swear to it, but I believe I'm
lying on my back. I've been lying like this for ten seconds. I've
been lying like this for two weeks, who can tell? I know I'm in a
lighted room by the bright red of the world through my eyelids.
There is a heavy shifting weight on my chest. It moves left, to
right, to left, to right. Every time it moves left, I feel the
bruising on my left boob. I have no idea what's prompting this
shifting weight, but it sure is annoying the hell out of me. Like
I'm not in enough pain without some dumb whatever... I'm pretty
angry about it.