Damaged (23 page)

—A car tire came tumbling toward him at forty miles an hour—a black wobbling thing backed up by two tons of force.

His eyes widened. He leaned down and squeezed them shut. The sewer cover clanked down hard as the wheel pushed it back into place. The round steel plug just missed smashing his head.

He laughed it off.
Wrong fucking sewer, Adam McStupid.

Less than ten minutes later, he found the right one. This alley was much less traveled, so he had no fear of getting run over. Standing on a ladder rung, he quietly peeked up through the manhole.

The house was beautiful. A colossal white colonial, it was bordered from end to end with plants that cost more than Adam's mom's usual cable bill. The grass was as mint green as some of the fields he remembered seeing on his way to meet Erin. Windows of different shapes and sizes granted view to the staircase, a dining room, and a kitchen.

I can see that stupid cocksucker right now.

Bain was jogging on a treadmill in a downstairs room. There were headphones in his ears and lots of sweat on his face.

The jock reached down, grabbed an Ice Mountain, and took a swig. Adam watched his every move; he wanted to waste him here. Now. He examined the house from top to bottom and from side to side, searching for any flaws or ways to break in without stirring attention.

He could not find any.
I could lure him out… I could wait till he's somewhere else—

Fuck!

Maybe I should just skip him?

Yeah, right. He's mine.

"Hey, you! Heeeeey! Heeeeey!" The voice was excruciatingly loud and fairly close.

Adam slipped on the ladder rung.
Oh shit, they spotted me!

Bain stopped jogging and looked out the window, right toward him. Adam expected to hear the sirens any minute.

Get on the ground! Hands behind your head! Anything you do or say will be held against you in a court of law!—

Adam almost pissed his pants.

But it was not a cop; it was Kevin Borman, one of Bain’s best friends. He entered Adam’s field of vision and walked toward Bain’s house.

That's a load off
, Adam thought, relieved.

Bain stepped out through a side door and met with Kevin. They gave each other a gay little pat on the shoulder.

"Having fun jogging?”

"Yeah, sure. You need to jog more. You need to lose some of this baby fat—" Bain smacked Kevin's pot belly. "You going to the party tonight?"

"Fuck yeah. Brandon's bringing three kegs, from what I've heard. Sharie's bringing some grass. God knows what else is going to be there. You know there's going to be pussy out the ass."

And they're treated so well
, Adam told himself.

"You up for that?" Kevin asked him.

"Uh, yeah. I'm just still so shocked. Erica and I have been together since eighth grade."

"I'm sorry, man, I really am. When they do find that scumbag, you and me will go kill him, ourselves."

"Yeah." Bain nodded. "Well, I suppose I won't worry about it once I get ripped."

“Amy Carlon’s gonna be there."

Bain smiled. Lustfully.

"I'll pick you up at around eight," Kevin told him.

"It's only three blocks away. Don't worry about it. Nobody's going to fuck with this cat. In fact, I hope they fucking try it. I got a three-inch knife ready, so that if they attack me, I'll puncture their jugular."

Sure you will.

"What if it is a their? If it's more than one person—"

"No, it's not. It's one person. You know who I had my eye on? Mr. Glaucer, the high school janitor. He was always weird."

"He does have that look in his eyes. I think he's mildly retarded."

"Duh! Durrrr! I'm a wetawd! I am Mistwer Glauduh," Bain joked.

He’s far more evolved than you
, Adam thought.
And after tonight, far more alive.

A time, a place, a third victim.

***

Adam did not have much time to waste once he got back home because, when he did, he had to leave again soon, anyway. This time he was going to try a different approach in sedating Bain since that 'CAT' had a weapon. Adam was going to clobber him over the head with a mallet he’d found in a forgotten corner of his basement.

He reached his sewer destination at exactly 7:46. As soon as he pushed aside the manhole cover, that changed to 7:49. Adam could see a figure in one of the second story windows—probably in a bathroom—getting ready. The shadow sprayed deodorant, cologne, and even used a toilet. For as big and expensive as the house was, the blinds they used to cover their windows were not very private.

When the light went off, Adam climbed out of his holding cell and yanked on his mask, mallet in hand. The moon was full, the air was cold, and the werewolf in Adam was transforming. He darted across the lawn like a prisoner escaping from a high security prison. A dog howled in the near distance.

The back door creaked opened. Bain exited, closed it, and locked it back up.

Adam hid quietly behind a large group of bushes at the bottom of a hill. A perfect hiding place. Mallet gripped, ready to pummel. There was one problem, however—the steam from his mouth. It filled the mask and was coming out through the vent holes. Adam hadn’t even considered it. He was not aware of it. There was no retreat, either way.

Bain sauntered across the lawn, hands in pockets, blade in hand, very alert. Steam billowed from his mouth and nostrils as he looked up and down the empty streets. His thumb massaged the dull side of the blade. He didn't know if he even wanted to use it against the maniac, had he come.

I'll just fuck him up without a weapon.

Adam watched him carefully. He was having second thoughts about this one. Bain had a weapon. He was wide awake. He was obviously expecting someone.

But he's coming right toward you, Adam! He doesn't see you.

The footsteps grew louder, louder, and abruptly stopped. Adam was itching to jump out and whack him. The sooner he could get this over with, the better.

Wait. Wait. Wait! Just a little longer! He needs to be closer.

Bain had stopped to light up a joint. He took a big hit and blew. Instant relief. The stench of marijuana wafted in Adam’s direction. He still didn't know his mask was leaking steam. The bush that concealed him looked like it was smoldering. The mallet trembled in his nervous hand.

Bain glanced back over his shoulder and scowled. He could have sworn somebody was watching him from the alley. Paranoia? Instinct? Didn’t matter. He was up for the challenge.

He sucked in some more pot.

Move, dammit!
Adam screamed inside his head.

"Yeah, I'd kick your ass," Bain muttered to the eerie shadows in the dark alley.

Adam's breath was right there, fogging the air, giving him away.

Soon enough, it did.

"Hey, what the fuck!" Bain turned back around and saw him. Adam saw him, too. Luckily for the latter, his prey had a joint in the hand with which he had been holding a very sharp blade. The joint fell to the ground. Bain went for his knife—in the wrong pocket—his left. Adam had plenty of time to pull back the mallet and crush Bain's skull. Upon impact, there was certainly a crunching sound. Blood splattered. Adam felt the top part of Bain's head cave in a little. Still, he did not fall. His eyes rolled, but he remained standing. Adam looked even more dazed.
That didn't knock him out??
He almost didn't hit him again.

Bain stumbled, with blood leaking down his face. His nerves tensed up and he reached into his pocket. Adam tried again. The bash of the blow sounded like a cracking whip. This time it worked. Bain fell to the ground and was out like a light. Adam thought he was dead.

God, I hope not. He needs to be punished. Death, itself, is far too humane for him.

Adam dragged him to the sewer, and away they went.

Tonight the flashlight was brighter, for Adam had used a different brand of batteries.

***

Moments later, Adam took off his mask, switched off the flashlight, and opened the secret wall into his basement. He looked down at the limp body in the blood-filled wagon. He poked him with his flashlight. No movement at all. It didn't sound like he was breathing, either.

"Shit," Adam said. He tossed his mask and flashlight aside and pulled the wagon into his basement.

Suddenly, there was a massive
roar,
a startled Adam, and one intense microsecond…

…As Bain leaped up from the wagon and flung Adam to the ground, along with blood from his matted hair.

"You're going to die, motherfucker!" Bain screamed. But when he looked down at Adam, he was surprised. It was not the janitor he’d expected. He didn't even expect it to be one of his peers. Definitely not
Adam.

"You? You did all this? You were going to kill me?"

"I
am
going to kill you," Adam said, stunned to see a living human in a shell he thought to be empty of a soul.
Will he get away? Will he get away!?

"You thought I was dead, didn't you? Well, I'm not. You dazed me for a few minutes—"

"I knocked you out! Don't try to be that same tough moron."

"Now I'm awake. For what you did to Erica—" Bain reached into his pocket for his knife. Not there. His other pocket. Not there.

"This what you're looking for?" Adam held up the shiny blade. "See? I'm not fucking stupid!"

Bain swallowed. He looked for the nearest exit and found it: the staircase leading up to the first floor hall.

"Go for it, Mr. Football Man. See if you can outrun me with your brains beat in. Huh? Go. I'll give you a head start."

They stared at each other. Mutual hatred. Bain looked tense but ready. Adam looked calm but uncertain. Then, the hamster leapt from its cage.

Adam laughed before Bain's body hit the surface of the basement floor. In a daring attempt, Bain tried to leap and run, but, instead, slipped on the blood-slicked wagon and fell, groaning. He passed out only seconds later.

"Wake up!" Adam said, smacking him on the cheek. "We ain't got all night. Especially you."

Bain opened his eyes. He was not in a good position by a long-shot. He was lying on an old, dusty table, hands tied above his head, feet tied below vision. Adam purposely left his mouth untaped so that he could talk. A circular saw dangled above his body like a pendulum—exactly what it was there for.

"Do you know why you're here, Bain?"

Bain looked around, terrified but furious. "Why do you got me tied down? You going to anal fuck me, you freak?"

A twinkle of fire burned in Adam's eyes. Then it went away and he grinned. "Did you ever say that to Erica? Do you know exactly what I did to her?"

"I don't want to know!"

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. The least you can do is cooperate. I tied her up in my shower and scorched her to death with scolding water—"

"You freak! You fucking freak!"

"Who's the real freak!"
Adam shouted. "What is a freak?"

"An outcast. Somebody who doesn't belong. Somebody that murders people for fun. To get your jollies off."

"You think that's why I do this? To play? The same way you play football against other teams?
Opposing
teams? I don't do this for personal satisfaction. I do this because I have to. There's no other way to stop your ignorance."

Bain raised his eyebrows. As he did, blood oozed out from his head wound. "My ignorance? You got me tied down, about to fucking kill me, and you tell me that
I'm
ignorant?" You—" Bain spat in Adam's face.

Adam casually wiped it away. "With every life I take, the less I care… the more I distance myself from everything, everyone. People like you have made me emotionless."

"What? How?"

"You exclude me."

"You exclude yourself."

Yes, great torture tonight.

"You live in your own little dream world, writing weird stories that nobody cares about, and you won't even talk to a soul unless they grew up with you."

Adam laughed. "At least I don't hurt my girlfriend every day and make her cry—"

Bain countered, "Believe me, you've made lots of people cry. Maybe not before, but now. I've seen loads of people cry because of what you've done, you sick freak."

"Do not call me a freak aga-"

"Freak, freak, freak."

Adam leaned down and got in his face. "I am not a freak, Bain! You hear me? I am not a freak! You made me out to be one so you could impress your high school jock fags. I think what's freakish is to tear down other people because they're not in a certain clique."

"Survival of the fittest, freak."

Adam reached up for the saw. "You want to call me that again?"