JACK KNIFED (21 page)

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Authors: Christopher Greyson

BOOK: JACK KNIFED
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Warp Speed

Kristine’s car pulled out of the school parking lot and Jack followed.

“Why?” Jack’s voice was low and hollow.

“What?” Replacement slid over next to him.

“Everyone that kid turned to treated her like garbage.” Jack gritted his teeth, and Replacement shook her head. “Patty. She couldn’t catch a break. Her scumbag father. People using her. Then she goes to her guidance counselor and…seriously? Do girls…?”

Jack looked down at Replacement and noticed her lower lip trembled.

If I ever caught the guy who hurt you…

Kristine stopped at a red light.

“Oh, snap!” Replacement flipped out her phone and frantically started to type.

“What now?”

“Mrs. Ritter. I totally forgot. I don’t want her to read the paper.”

“You’re texting her?”

Replacement laughed. “No. There’s no way she has a smart phone. Kris.”

“Who?”

“Kristine. Did you know she stops by there every week?”

The light turned green, but Jack didn’t move.

“What? What, Jack?” She looked all around for what was wrong and why he didn’t go. Jack stared straight ahead and then jammed the gas pedal to the floor. The Impala sprung forward so fast the whole frame shook. Replacement grabbed the handle at the ceiling. Drivers laid on their horns, and cars skidded to avoid the car that now raced through the intersection.

“You’re completely freaking me out.”

“I have to get back to the inn.”

“At warp speed?”

Jack quickly passed Kristine’s car. Replacement looked out the passenger window and shrugged as they flew by. They flew through a stop sign, and Replacement fastened her seat belt. He veered into the other lane, and cars swerved to get out of the way. The car tilted to the left as he hit the next turn, and the rear end fishtailed. Jack pumped the brake and jammed the gas.

“My flower. Darn it, Jack.”

Jack risked a quick glance down. Replacement had placed the flower cup between her feet. It was still there, but the cup was half crushed, and her feet were wet.

“It’s okay.” He passed another car.

“My phone.”

She picked up the phone that was now dripping wet.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” She wiped it off on his shirt. He slammed on the brakes and skidded into the parking lot. He bolted out of the car and sprinted for the inn.

“Jack, Jack!” Replacement called after him, but he kept running. He raced up the front steps and thundered up the inside staircase as well. The door to his room was propped open, and when he charged in, a young cleaning girl gasped.

“Sorry,” he panted. “All set. Out you go. Thanks.”

The girl scampered out of the room. Jack rushed to the desk and grabbed the yearbook. He scanned page after page. Replacement reached the room, breathless. She leaned against the desk and set her flower down.

“What’s going on?”

Jack kept flipping through the yearbook, frantically searching the pages. “Her—she’s the only one.” Jack slammed the yearbook down and jammed his finger on the page.

“Theresa Cook?” Replacement stared at the picture of the attractive girl with big poufy hair and her eyes slowly widened. “Terri with an
i
.”

“I’m an idiot.” Jack spun around and clenched his fists until they were both next to the side of his head. “Damn it, I thought she was talking about a boyfriend. I never thought…”

“Jack…we still don’t know—”

“It’s her.”

“Slow up. Just because she’s the only Terri doesn’t—”

“I’m going.” Jack walked out of the room as Kristine ran up the stairs.

“Hey.” She was out of breath. “What happened?”

“Did you know a Theresa Cook?”

She thought for only a second. “The Cooks live over near the dump. I went to school with her brothers, Billy and Bobby. Twins.”

“Was she friends with Patricia?”

Kristine shrugged. “I don’t know. They were the back-of-the-class types. They smoked and hung out near the dugouts. Not to sound snobby, but they weren’t in my social circle.”

“Do they still live there?”

“Yes. It’s a large, white farmhouse—just take a left before the dump.”

Jack stomped by her.

“Wait. Why are you going there? Alice? Alice, can you stop him?”

Jack stormed out of the inn as Kristine’s words rang in his ears.

No. She can’t stop me. Not now. No one can.

 

 

 

Beg

The Impala stopped in front of the old farmhouse. A cloud of dust caught up to it before slowly fading. Jack gripped the wheel and tried to slow his breathing, but he was still almost panting with fury.

“Jack. You can’t be so sure—”

“Wait here.”

As Jack stepped out of the car, Replacement and Kristine raced out, too.

“No way. Jack, you asked me to keep you in check.”

“Not anymore.”

“Alice?” Kristine looked at Replacement, but Replacement shook her head.

Jack headed for the house. Three trucks and four cars were parked around the front, some on the semi-circular driveway, some on the grass. Jack scanned them but couldn’t tell whether they were all in working condition.

As Jack started up the three steps to the wide porch, he could see a man walk down a hallway, carrying a large box. Jack stopped on the top step. The man was dressed in blue jeans, boots, and a tan work coat. He was a large man, both in height and weight. He was about six three and built like a linebacker. The box covered his face, but as he turned to get out of the door, Jack could see his gray hair and bulldog-like features. He looked to be in his late forties.

The man’s smile faded as he stared at Jack, and he stood there, slack-jawed. He sucked in a long, deep breath in, as his eyes grew larger. The box he carried fell to the porch with a loud crash and unidentifiable pieces scattered across the porch in all directions as the box broke open. The man started to scream and pointed at Jack. His face went white and he shrieked in terror.

“Steven—it’s Steven!” He turned and frantically pulled at the door. The door caught under the box and stopped. He pulled so hard the top hinge broke. The door crashed to the porch. “He’s come back for revenge.”

Screaming, the man disappeared into the house. Jack turned to look at Replacement, and she took two steps back. Her eyes widened, and she swallowed.

“Sounds like a confession to me,” he growled.

Jack stepped over the broken door and stalked into the house. There was an old living room on the left and a dining room on the right. A hallway stretched down to a kitchen and a staircase led straight upstairs. Two men appeared in the kitchen: one was the man who’d just run away, and the other looked exactly like him, except he wore an old blue T-shirt.

“Murderers.” Jack’s voice was just above a whisper.

He moved forward, and the men just stared at him, frozen with fear.

“I’m sorry. I’m—” The man in the tan jacket’s words were cut off as Jack leaped forward and his fist slammed into the man’s face.

As he tumbled backward, the kitchen door flew open. All of Jack’s training vanished as hate and rage consumed him. He didn’t even look toward the sound. His left hand flashed out and he pivoted his hips. If the man hadn’t been turning and trying to run away, the blow would have killed him. As it was, Jack’s fist slammed into the side of his head and the man crashed into the kitchen table.

Three men pushed at each other, trying to get into the kitchen. They were all big guys, too, and looked to be Jack’s age.

“Get the hell ou—” one of the men started to yell, but Jack slammed the kitchen door into the side of his head. The other two trampled over his body as it crashed to the ground. The second guy stumbled, so Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and ran him straight into the wall.

The third guy was fast. He lunged forward and grabbed Jack around the waist, and they both smashed into the doorframe. Before the man could do anything, Jack raised his right arm, and his elbow jabbed into the man’s bent spine. He crumbled to the ground and writhed in pain.

Jack frantically scanned the room. The man with the tan jacket held on to the stove, trying to pull himself up. Jack grabbed him and spun him around. The man’s nose was bloody, and his eyes were filled with fear.

Jack’s forearm crashed into the side of his head. If Jack’s other hand hadn’t held onto his jacket, he’d have gone flying into the wall. His head snapped back and his legs wobbled.

“You killed him.” Jack punched him in the face. The man dropped to his knees. “Was it just you?” Another blow landed against his cheek with a sickening smack. Blood splattered on the jacket.

“Stop!” The fast guy Jack had elbowed made it to his feet and rushed him again. As he grabbed Jack’s shoulder, Jack released his hold on the man with the tan jacket and rained four rapid punches down on the fast guy. Jack had to move with them as the man was beaten backward. The guy tripped over one of the people on the floor, and Jack knelt over him. A punch in the solar plexus caused him to involuntarily sit up, and a left jab to the face knocked him back down.

“Please stop. Not my son,” the guy in the tan coat screamed.

Jack stood up, trembling, and shook his head. Kristine was screaming hysterically in the doorway.

Has she been screaming this whole time?

Blood was everywhere. Five men lay writhing on the ground amid broken furniture and glass.

“I’m sorry. It was me. I’m sorry,” the man continued to beg.

“Jack, stop. Please.” Replacement was crying. Jack stood, panting. His hands twitched. He looked down at the guy at his feet. The man held up two trembling hands just in front of his battered face.

“Please, I beg you; don’t hurt him,” the man in the tan jacket pleaded.

Jack roared like a demon set free.

“Beg?” He jumped back and grabbed the man by his tan coat. “You beg me? Did my father beg? Did he?” Jack shook him so hard he could hear the man’s teeth crack together.

“Father?”

“No, no,” a woman screamed and ran into the kitchen. She shrieked, tripping over debris and bodies as she scrambled toward the man in Jack’s grip. “No,” she wailed as she pulled on Jack’s arms.

Jack looked at her face again. It was the librarian.

“I made it right! I made it right!” She tugged on Jack’s arms, but she might as well have been pulling against stone. “They didn’t do it. I told him. I explained. It was me. I called and explained. They didn’t kill him.” She was crying hysterically.

“Jack, please.” Replacement placed her hand on Jack’s arm.

“Explain,” Jack panted.

“We didn’t kill Steve.” The other twin spoke from across the kitchen.

Jack turned and bared his teeth. The other two guys were now on their feet, but they leaned against the door unsteadily.

“Honest.” He held up his hands. “Swear to God.”

“You were there?”

He nodded.

“We all were,” Mae cried. “Billy, Bobby, Terri, Patty, and me. But they didn’t kill him.”

“What happened?” Replacement’s voice was steady.

“It was… We were all—” Mae tried to catch her breath. “Bobby liked Patty, but we found out Patty was pregnant. Terri wanted her to get rid of it. She wanted Patty to go with Bobby.” She looked at the guy in Jack’s grip when she said his name.

“She told Steven to meet her at the pond?” Replacement placed a hand on Mae’s shoulder.

Mae nodded and then said, “Yes. They all waited. I liked Steven.” She started to cry again. “Patty thought Terri was just going to talk to him. She didn’t know. Billy and Bobby confronted him at the fire pit. They beat him up pretty bad, but they didn’t kill him. They didn’t.”

Jack shook Bobby like a rag doll.

“They just left him. Really? You expect—”

“We did.” Bobby wept. “We took off when the cops came.”

“What?” Jack pulled him up and leaned down so he was right in his bloody face.

“The police.” Mae grabbed Jack’s arms again. “The police came and we all ran.”

Jack’s hands opened, letting Bobby fall to the floor.

He closed his eyes, and his words were clipped. “Where’s Terri? Let her explain it to me.”

“She can’t,” Billy answered. “She’s dead. Breast cancer. Three years ago.”

Mae grabbed Jack’s pant leg. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried to explain. He said he understood.”

Jack stood in the middle of the destroyed kitchen, shaking his head as he looked down at the crying woman.

“Who?”

“Chief Dennis. I told him what happened. He said he understood. I thought it was all right.”

Jack’s head spun.

“When did you tell Chief Dennis?” Replacement asked. She, too, was clearly perplexed.

“After they…the police kept looking. They wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t sleep. I, I felt so bad.”

“When did you tell him?” Jack’s voice was cold.

“I don’t know…um, it was right after they opened the park for Steven.” She broke down in tears.

The police came? There was nothing in the report.

Jack looked down at the man at his feet. Bobby scurried backward and sat against the wall.

“I’m sorry.” Bobby looked down at his hands and cried. “I…”

Jack turned and stumbled out of the kitchen. He had to place his hand against the wall as he walked down the hallway, desperate to get outside. As he stepped on the broken door, the bottom hinge snapped off, too.

Jack breathed in huge gulps of air and stumbled down the steps. He fell against the Impala and then held onto the roof.

Replacement came up behind him, reached into his pocket, and took out the keys. He didn’t protest as she opened the passenger door and helped him in.

“Jack?”

He felt as though she called to him from far away.

Was this what madness felt like? Am I crazy?

Kristine slid into the backseat. Jack looked back at the house, past the broken door and into the kitchen. People slowly moved in the shadows.

“They didn’t do it.” He hung his head.

“We need to go.” The Impala’s tires churned up dust as Replacement pulled out. She drove fast. Jack couldn’t think.

“I was going to kill them all.”

Kristine softly cried in the backseat.

“Should we just keep going?” Replacement looked nervously at him.

“No.”

“Jack, this whole thing is flying apart.” Replacement put her hand on his shoulder.

“Kid, do you want to go? You can go.” Jack shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll take you home, but I have to do this.”

“You stay, I stay.” Replacement kept checking the rearview mirror and slowed down as she came to the intersection.

Kristine looked up. “I say we go back to the inn and regroup.”

Jack nodded. Replacement punched it.

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