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Chapter Twelve

 
"As he came forth from his mother's womb naked
shall he return to go as he came, and he shall take
nothing for his labor, which he may carry away
in his hand." Ecclesiastes 4:14

Mark tried to leave a little early so that maybe they wouldn't find him. He tried to take a back way, a short cut he knew about that they probably didn't. Maybe then he could get home without getting beaten up.

He hadn't meant to make them mad, but he wasn't going to give in to them again. His father had told him to stand up to them, but he was afraid. Afraid of what he might do if they started hitting him.

He was fairly certain that he'd managed to shake them when someone hit him in the back of the head with God only knew what.

"Hey, dick head! Where the hell do ya think yer goin'?"

Two sets of hands grabbed him and drug him into the alley. They slammed him against a wall and his pack broke, spilling its contents all over the ground.

"Do . . . don't mess with me," Mark stammered out.

They laughed at him and the bigger one, Johnny 'Round House,' the only thirteen-year-old in the fifth grade, shoved him in the shoulder so that he hit the wall again. More of the contents of Mark's pack rained onto the ground.

"Stutter why don't ya, ya whinin' little flinch." He laughed. "Oh, I'm gonna love kickin' your pussy ass."

The other kid was a lot bigger than Mark, but he was only a year older. Everyone knew that Teddy Miller wasn't the real menace. He just didn't like getting teased for being fat and stupid, and being Johnny's best friend meant he didn't have to worry about that.

"L . . . leave me alone. I . . . I'm warning you!" Mark stammered out.

Johnny punched him in the mouth hard, and his head spun.

"Hey, Johnny! That's enough, man," Teddy said. "You said we was jus' gonna scare him a little."

"Get on outtah here if you can't hack it, Teddy," Johnny said.

"Don't hurt him, Johnny. He ain't a bad dude," Teddy said.

"Get the fuck outtah here, Teddy!" Johnny screamed.

"Fuck you, Johnny," Teddy turned and left.

Mark watched him go. No hope that he'd run to get help, didn't have the balls for that. He didn't want to be part of beating Mark up, which made him better than most. But he was too worried about his own skin, too afraid of breaking the playground code to help Mark.

Mark was scared. This guy was a dark void sucking in any light that touched him and diminishing it. Johnny had it in his mind to hurt him. Hurt him bad.

Mark had the power to stop him. He could stop him the same way he'd stopped Mr. Ryan's damned old pit bull from biting him.

Johnny pulled back to hit him again. Mark didn't stammer this time. He stood up as straight and as tall as he could.

"If you hit me one more time I'm gonna kill you, Johnny Round House," Mark hissed.

Johnny laughed and hit him.

Mark stared at Johnny and smiled. "That's three," he said mimicking Principle Whitters. Johnny went flying across the alley, hit the wall and exploded.

Mark picked up his stuff and ran.

 

"You know, like you'd say that the American Indians inhabited most areas of the United States, but then you'd say that your friend Joe is a Choctaw. Or the Cherokee of western Oklahoma had their own written language," Tommy said.

"You make fun of me for having 'To much sex,' as if that could ever really happen, and then you and your wife spend your spare time figuring out shit like this?" Spider said with a laugh.

"Don't you think that would be better?" Tommy asked seriously.

Spider shrugged. "I guess. I never really thought about it one way or the other. No blood in my brain, don't you know?"

The call came in on the car's comlink.

"Hey guys! Fry Guy's back. Alley directly behind Harvest School."

"That's fucking impossible!" Spider swore.

Tommy could tell by the look on her face that this was completely unexpected.

"Shit!" She looked out the window so that he couldn't see her face.

"We're on our way," Tommy said into the link. He turned the link off and stared at Spider. "I thought you said he'd always kill. That he couldn't help it."

"Yeah, but I . . . " Spider let the sentence die.

"You what, Spider?" Tommy asked. "What did you do?"

"It's not important."

But it was. She thought she'd taken care of the problem, gotten the SWTF of their backs. Now the nightmare was back.

 

Spider saw what no one else did. A smashed down place in the garbage where someone had been standing, and a couple of broken pencils on the ground. She purposely didn't walk over and check it out.

"He was . . . Well, I hate to speak ill of the dead, but he was a bad kid," Principle Whitters said. "A bully really."

Spider glared at the man. He was one to talk; he was nothing more than a bully himself. A scrawny, ugly, short guy, he no doubt couldn't hold his own with his peers. So he got a job where there were people he could push around. Some graffiti scrawled across the alley wall told how the kids felt about him. In big red block letters it read 'Child Molester Whitters, humps all sorts of critters.'

"Who the hell are those guys?" the principle asked.

Spider looked up and saw the SWTF guys. She frowned, then said to the principle, "It's OK, they're supposed to be here. You were saying about Johnny?"

"He . . . well, he'd already been in juvey twice for . . . well beating people up. Johnny put a twelve-year-old boy in the hospital when he was only eleven."

"And he's still in school?" Tommy asked in disbelief.

"Not my fault." Whitters shrugged. "According to the state law, as long as the kids are of school age they have to be in school."

"Were there any kids in particular that he was messing around with?" Spider asked.

The principle shrugged. "Who wasn't he bullying would be a better question." He snapped his fingers then. "He has a friend, Teddy Miller. He's always with Johnny; he might know something."

"Thanks." Spider walked away and Tommy followed. She punched in the kid's name and in seconds her comlink spit out an address.

"Or maybe he's in the alley being scraped off the wall with Johnny." Spider knew what Tommy was thinking; he didn't have to say anything. "How did they identify the body anyway?"

"Kid had a fake ID," Spider said nonchalantly. She walked past the SWTF guys and they smiled. "Let's go talk to the Miller kid."

 

Mark dialed the phone with trembling fingers. Most days he hated it when he came home to an empty house, but today he was glad.

The phone rang once, twice. "Come on, you stupid mother fucker! Pick up the phone," Mark hissed.

"Hello?" a woman answered.

"Hello, ma'am. Is Teddy home?"

"Teddy!" The woman screamed. "Phone!"

Mark waited. It was only a few seconds before Teddy answered.

"Yeah," he said, obviously around a mouthful of food.

"I killed Johnny. You'll know that's the truth in a little while," Mark said. "If you tell anyone about me, I'll kill you, too." Mark hung up quick.

 

Teddy looked at the phone and shrugged. Some kind of stupid joke. He hoped Mark did kick Johnny's ass. It would serve Johnny right for being such a prick.

The doorbell rang.

"I got it, Mom!" Teddy screamed and took another bite of sandwich. He walked over and opened the door still chewing. He looked up at the two people standing there. "What?" he asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

The man and woman showed him their comlinks. "Are one of your parents home, son?"

"Mom!" Teddy screamed. His mom came, and she and the cops went into the dining room to talk. Teddy sat in the living room and pretended to watch TV, but he was sweating. They must have found out that it was he and Johnny that tagged the school. His mom was going to kill him.

"Teddy, come here please," his mother called.

He could tell she was crying, but she didn't sound mad.

Teddy walked slowly into the room. His mother jumped out of her chair and ran over and hugged him tight.

"Wha . . . what's going on?" he asked.

She sat him down in a chair and dried her face with the backs of her hands. "Teddy . . . " her voice broke and she calmed herself down. "Teddy, something terrible has happened. Johnny has been killed."

Teddy dropped his sandwich. He remembered the phone call. He was sad and terrified all at the same time. "Somebody killed Johnny?" Teddy cried.

"Yes, son," the chink cop said. "I'm sorry, but we're going to have to ask you some questions."

"I don' know nothin'!" Teddy cried. He held his stomach. He felt like he was going to barf. "I didn't see nothin'. He was fine when I left him."

"When is the last time you saw him?" the man asked.

"At school," Teddy lied. He couldn't believe this. That little sissy Mark had killed Johnny? If he could kill Johnny, he could kill Teddy easy. But if the cops took Mark in he'd be safe. "Who killed him?" he cried. Maybe they already had Mark, then it would be safe to tell the truth.

"A criminal the papers and TV have been calling the Fry Guy." It was the woman who answered his question, and he really looked at her for the first time. He saw her hands and couldn't look away. He jumped and moved quickly away from her, still staring at her hands.

"I . . . I didn' see nothin'. I wish I did, but I didn' and now my best friend is dead." He looked the woman in the eyes. "Please, I don' know nothin'. Jus' leave me alone." He ran out of the room.

He hid in the hallway where he could hear, but couldn't be seen.

"I'm sorry," his mom said. "But they were very close. You must realize what a shock this has been for him."

"It's all right. I understand," the man said. "Doesn't look like Teddy can help us anyway. I'm very sorry about your son's friend. Thank you very much for your cooperation."

Teddy poked his head out as he heard the front door open. The woman turned quickly and stared right into his eyes. He couldn't look away. It was like when Child Molester Whitters looked at him when he was in trouble—only this was worse. His flesh crawled. He was glad when she turned around, and gladder still when the door closed behind her.

Teddy collapsed in a puddle on the floor, crying, and his mother came and held him. He had a good mother, the best mother; she would be ashamed if she knew the kind of things he had been doing. No more, he wasn't going to do anything bad anymore, because he didn't want to hurt his mother. Because if he did something bad, they would come and get him, and now they knew where he was.

 

"You're awfully quiet," Tommy said.

Spider heard it in his voice. He was mad. She could feel his anger and frustration. He blamed her.

"It's not my fault, Tommy."

"A kid is dead!" Tommy said. "A thirteen year old kid. Your precious avenger killed a kid."

"Hitler was a kid, Jim Jones, Jeffrey Dahlmer," Spider said. "Who knows what Johnny Pots might have become?"

"We'll never know because he's dead now!" Tommy shook his head. "He was a school yard bully. So what! Are you suggesting that we just go around and kill every school yard bully?"

"I'm suggesting that psychotic behaviors start in childhood. The Fry Guy knows who is truly evil. This child was evil, and he killed him," she said.

"How can you rationalize this?" Tommy said. "He blew that kid up all over the alley."

"Maybe it wasn't him," Spider said.

"You're saying there's more than one of them?" Tommy said.

Spider was silent.

"That's what you're saying, isn't it? We have a second killer."

Spider shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. I do know one thing. That kid was lying. He saw something, and he's too scared to say what."

"We should pump him, then. Break him down till he tells us what he knows," Tommy said.

Spider shook her head no. "Do that and I'm afraid we'll have more than one dead kid."

 

Mark snuggled into his bed, pulling his covers up over his head, hoping to keep everything out. It wasn't working, because he was the scariest thing he knew. He shouldn't have killed Johnny, shouldn't have blown him up.

He'd warned him, and Johnny just wouldn't listen. Wouldn't stop. He never did. He was mean to everyone, and he didn't think there was anything wrong with it. He had been dark and bad, and he deserved to die. Mark had to make himself believe that, or he was going to go crazy.

His mother came in flipping on the lights and he jerked violently. She sat down on the corner of his bed.

"Honey, are you all right?" she asked.

He uncovered his head slowly. "I'm scared," he said. "Real scared."

"It's OK, Honey, nothing like that's going to happen to you. You're a good kid, and this Fry Guy only kills bad people."

Mark nodded silently. He looked at his mother. He looked nothing like his mother or father, and nothing like his baby sister. They were all blonde, and he had black hair. They had brown eyes; his eyes were a weird, almost-blue color. They tanned, and he didn't. He knew he was adopted, but he didn't tell them that he knew.

When you were adopted that meant your real parents didn't want you, but that your adopted parents wanted you more than anything. He loved his mom and dad. He was glad that they pretended to be his real parents.

His mom hugged him then. "We wouldn't let anything happen to you," she said, rocking him back and forth. She kissed him on the top of his head and started to leave.

"Mom?"

She turned in the door. "Yes, Baby?"

"I am good, aren't I?"

She smiled at him. "Very good, now try to get some sleep." She turned out his light and left his door open.

"Is he all right?" he heard his dad ask his mom.

"He's scared. Can't say I blame him," she answered.

"I hate to say this, because I know he was just a kid, but the way he's been bullying Mark, hitting him. I figure he got what was coming to him," his father said.

"Jared! What a horrible thing to say!" Mom scolded him.

"Kid shouldn't have been in school with the other kids to begin with. He should have been in prison. I mean, just look at Mark's face."

"With this lunatic running around. Well, maybe I ought to have mother pick Mark up from school for awhile."

"That's not a bad Idea, although I don't think the Fry Guy would be interested in Mark. He's a good kid."

Mark smiled and snuggled into his bed. Mom and Dad thought he was good. Dad said Johnny Round House got what was coming to him, and everyone thought the Fry Guy killed him, so everything could get back to normal now. If he could just quit thinking about it.

 

The doorbell rang.

"I got it!" Carrie called out.

"Good. Freaking Tommy! I think he broke every bone in my body." Spider groaned from her chair. The workout had been rougher than usual. Probably because Tommy was holding her personally responsible for that kid getting blown all over the alleyway.

Carrie looked through the peephole. "Spider, some strange black man is standing on our porch holding a TV."

"Oh shit!" Spider jumped up and ran to the front door, temporarily forgetting how stiff and sore she was. She shoved Carrie aside, none to delicately, and looked through the peephole. "Ah shit! Ah shit!" She ran her hands down her face. The doorbell rang again. She opened the door and jerked Robby inside, TV and all. "What the hell are you doing?" She spat at him.

"Br . . . bringing your TV back. I fixed it."

"Mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Carrie asked.

"Ah . . . Robby had my TV," Spider said quickly. "He was fixing it." She quickly thought over what she had said and assessed the situation. "He's had the damned thing for months, and now he delivers it in the middle of the night."

"I'm . . . I'm really sorry."

"Sorry, I'll give you sorry!" Spider took the TV and set it down on a table in the hallway. "Come on outside and let's talk."

"What the hell is going on?" Carrie demanded.

"I can take care of this, Carrie."

Spider grabbed Robby by the arm and drug him outside. She closed the door behind her leaving Carrie in the house.

Spider jerked on Robby's arm and whispered. "What the hell were you thinking coming here, around Carrie? That's really stupid, Robby. Really, really stupid."

"I'm sorry, but I wanted to let you know that I didn't ice that kid. I didn't break our agreement. I wouldn't."

Spider sighed deeply. They had reached his truck, so she turned him loose and he turned to face her.

"I don't want Carrie put in the middle of this. I don't want her to become a target."

"I'm sorry. I thought if I brought the TV back that would be good cover."

Spider nodded. "It was. I'm just a little paranoid. Don't know why, but a simple thing like having a serial killer drop by the house in the middle of the night when I'm living with the DA and have the SWTF breathing down my neck makes me tense."

"I'm sorry," Robby said. "I didn't know what else to do. What do I do now?"

"We'll never get rid of the bastards if they find out there are two of you. Unless of course they know about this one." Spider was thoughtful. "Robby, you got a shopping list?"

Robby smiled then, his teeth shining in the moonlight. "Just say the word."

 

Carrie watched out the peephole. She couldn't see too well, but she could tell that they weren't fighting. She moved to a window and peered cautiously out. If Spider caught her spying on her, she'd have her hide.

They were having some sort of very serious conversation, and it lasted for almost thirty minutes. At one point they were even laughing. As the young man started to leave he reached out to grasp the car door handle, and it was then that Carrie noticed his hands. They were like Spider's.

Carrie moved quickly away from the window, sat down and picked up the paper pretending to read. What the hell did it mean? Who the hell was that man?

Spider came in and walked into the living room carrying the TV. "Young people these days have no work ethic."

Carrie planned to say nothing, to just pretend like she bought the whole little drama, but she had never been able to play stupid even when it was in her best interest to do so. Carrie put down the paper.

"Can the shit, Spider. I was watching you. All right, pitch a little bitch, I don't care. I saw you talking to him. You weren't mad, and neither was he. I also saw his hands. So you want to tell me what's going on?"

All right. Her first instincts had been correct; she should have kept her mouth shut. It was obvious even before Spider started screaming that she was pissed.

"Goddamn it, Carrie!" Spider screamed. "I'm trying to protect you and you just won't allow it. Don't get into this shit! I don't want you in it. It has nothing to do with you and I. It only has to do with me."

"If it involves you; it does involve me. Can't you see that? Now just tell me what the hell is going on."

"Just!" Spider threw her hands in the air. "I don't know what the hell is going on anymore. All I do know is that it's dangerous to know anything, and the last thing I want to do is put you in any danger. Please don't ask me to tell you. Please don't try to figure out what's going on. I'm only asking you to do one thing for me—stay the hell out of it. It's none of your business."

"I'm the DA. My office offers me some protection. I'm not afraid. Crime in this city is my business!" Carrie screamed back.

"Being DA will not protect you from these people, Carrie. The only thing that can protect you is total ignorance. So quit prying around." Spider stomped up stairs.

Carrie started to follow her, and Spider spun on her. "Can't you see? I love you, and I don't want you to get hurt."

Carrie started crying then. "And can't you see that I love you, and I don't want you to get hurt? Don't you think I have a right to know what's going on? If the tables were turned, would you want to be left out in the dark? Maybe I could help."

Spider walked back down the stairs and took Carrie into her arms. Carrie held her tightly.

Spider didn't let go of her. "When I was young, I had all these big dreams, goals. I was going to find true love, get everything I wanted, stop crime and cure cancer. Then one day realization slapped me in the face, and I knew that I already was where I was going. I gave up any dreams and desires I had and fell into a rhythm of complacency. I was never going to have more than I had right then, and I was all right with that. I wasn't happy, in fact I was miserable, but it was comfortable misery. Then right when I had given up my last shred of hope, I met you, and . . . everything changed. Suddenly I had everything I'd ever dreamt of. I just want to be here with you forever, but if you keep snooping around I'm going to have to leave. Because if you figure them out, they'll kill you."

Carrie moved her head to look up at Spider checking her face for any sign of insincerity. There was none. "You're serious?"

"Yes."

 

They found the first body at four in the morning, and by ten they'd found four more.

Carrie surveyed the last murder site. "At this rate, being DA will be a nothing job because there will be no criminals left to prosecute," she told Laura and then screamed. "Except of course for the Fry Guy! About whom we have no clue!"

She glared across the vacant lot at Spider who just smiled and shrugged.

Carrie couldn't get what Spider had said out of her head. Spider meets with some mysterious stranger last night, and now they had five more fried repeat offenders. She wanted to think it was a coincidence, but she knew it wasn't. Spider was mixed up in this up to her neck, and by turning a blind eye to it, so was Carrie. But if what Spider alluded to was true, there really was no satisfactory alternative.

One of the So-what-if guys approached her. She was a little surprised, because they had never taken any interest in talking to her before. In a flash Spider had moved herself between Carrie and the man. He tried to go around her and she put a hand on his shoulder. Damn it! What the hell was she doing now?

 

Spider put her hand palm down on Kirk's shoulder.

"Stay the fuck away from her," Spider hissed.

Kirk smiled at her. "You're very protective, aren't you? She's the DA here. I just wanted to ask her a couple of questions. Unless, of course, you're willing to answer them."

"You know everything I know," Spider said.

"Somehow I doubt that, Detective Webb. I'll only keep her a couple of minutes . . . I'm not going to hurt her . . . Yet."

Spider grabbed him by the collar and glared at him. "You stay the fuck away from her."

He jerked free of her grasp. "That's only going to work once, Webb. I'm going to talk to her, and unless you want to try to explain to her and everyone else here why you're accosting me, I suggest you get the hell out of my way."

Spider moved reluctantly.

Tommy walked over to Spider. He'd seen the whole thing. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Spider said. She didn't take her eyes off the So-what-if guy.

 

Carrie waited with baited breath as the man approached her. She'd seen the whole altercation, and was not looking forward to this meeting.

"DA Long, my name is Kirk Anderson, SWTF." He held out his hand. She didn't shake it, and he withdrew it.

"I know who you are. What do you want?" Carrie asked bluntly.

He nodded his head to the side indicating that he wanted to talk to her alone, and behind him Carrie could see Spider flinch. Carrie left Laura behind, and she and Kirk walked a few steps away from the crowd. The guy gave her the creeps, and she was glad to see that both Tommy and Spider were keeping an eye on him.

"If I may be blunt," Kirk cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder at Spider. "Ms. Long, Carrie . . . "

"Call me Sir," Carrie corrected.

"Sir, your partner, Detective Webb, has information which is vital to our investigation. It would be in her best interest to speak with us. In fact, it would be in your best interest for her to talk with us. You might tell her that," Kirk said.

His expression never changed. Over his shoulder she could see Tommy holding Spider back with an effort. Carrie hoped she was doing a better job of hiding her feelings. It wasn't all in Spider's head. There was a real and present danger, and here he was. You didn't have to be an empath to know that.

Carrie was surprised at how confident she sounded when she spoke. "I'm sure that if Spider had any information she would have given it to you."

He laughed then. "Why would she give it to me when she hasn't given it to you?" He walked away then without further explanation. The meaning of his words sank in as she watched his departing back, and she looked at him with black hatred.

Spider walked quickly over to her. "You all right?"

"They're who you're afraid of, aren't they?" Carrie whispered.

Spider nodded.

"They've bugged our house, Spider," Carrie said, lowering her voice still more.

"Are you sure? How do you know?"

Carrie told Spider exactly what he had said, then held onto Spiders arm when she swore and started to run over and kick his ass. He waved at her and smiled, then he and his buddy walked over, got in their car, and drove away.

"The bastards!" Spider cursed.

"Maybe you should tell them," Carrie whispered. "Tell them whatever it is they want to know and get them off our back."

"That won't happen, Carrie. They don't work like that. Please stay out of this."

"I can't, Spider. Don't you understand? I can't! They won't let me."

 

When Carrie got home the house was in ruins. Everything was ripped apart and stuff was slung everywhere. There was a lump in her throat as she pulled the mace from her purse. Spider's truck was in the driveway. She turned her comlink on.

"Spider!" she hollered. Spider walked out of the den carrying a pillow. Carrie sighed with relief and punched a cancel code into her comlink. She ran over and hugged Spider. "What the hell happened?"

"They bugged the whole house. The movers must have done it. Remember? I told you I didn't trust them. So far they were all in my stuff." She pulled a pimento jar filled with water and eight tiny little bugs out of her pocket. "I'm gonna sling them down the disposal."

Carrie walked past her into the living room and flopped down in a chair. She looked around her at the carnage in the room. "You did this?"

Spider looked around her. "I'm sorry, Baby, but I had to. I'll put it all back when I'm sure I have them all."

"You can never be sure, Baby, they're not much bigger than a pin head. They could be anywhere." Carrie buried her face in her hands and started to cry.

Spider knelt beside her and patted her back.

"I'll get all of them, Baby. I know it's a mess, but I'll clean it all up. It's not as bad as it looks. I'm pretty sure I got all the ones out of our bedroom."

"Not as bad as it looks!" Carrie pushed away from her and stood up. She glared down at her. "You're pretty sure you got all the ones out of the bedroom! All this time those bastards have been listening to every word we said, everything we did. What the hell have you done to us, Spider? What the hell have you done?"

"Shush!" Spider said.

"I won't shush. They're going to kill us all anyway, and I don't even know why. Now I want to know why my privacy has been invaded! Why our house is in a shambles! Why those fucking So-what-if guys think they can walk up to me, and threaten us—threaten you without fear of repercussion? What the hell do they think you know that they are willing to take these kinds of chances? What the hell are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything!" Spider yelled, standing to her feet. "These guys," she shook the jar in the air, "they're the ones who decided they wanted to play, and the only way I can save any of us is to try to keep the secrets I have. Don't you understand? If you know, then that makes you a target. If Tommy knows, he's a target, and if I tell them what I know, then they've got no reason to keep me alive. The only reason I'm still alive now is because they think I'm the only one who can tell them what they need to know."

"Who the Fry Guy is." Carrie flopped back into her chair and wiped her face. "He's got a weapon they want."

"Please, just leave it the fuck alone."

 

 

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