PillowFace (30 page)

Face shook his head. 

“We saw that body pit you two left out in the woods.  The one with that whore from next door.  We had to kill her fucking parents earlier today, and all because of you and your new pal.  You know how I feel about suburban assaults.  It’s too damn risky and here we are in the middle of our second in just one day.” 

Haley’s weight gave out on her, and it took all she had to stay balanced on her elbows.  She had no idea how Face felt about this verbal outpour, but she was about to shut down.  She wondered if it wasn’t a bad idea to drop her skull back on the floor so it would crack open on the hard floor.  From what he was saying, her brother had been up to some very disturbing activities in her absence.  And, the craziest part of all this was that she blamed herself. To her, Joel was totally innocent, and it was as if she were the one that had done the things Buddy was saying.

“So why didn’t you come back to camp after dispatching the whore?” asked Carp, bluntly. 

Buddy slapped him across the chest.  “I’m asking the questions here, and you’re supposed to be getting our shit from the neighbor’s house.”

“I want to hear this.”

“I bet you do.  I’ll allow it.”  He looked back at Face.  “Answer his question.”

Face grabbed his shirt and jerked it open as if flashing the room.  His abdomen and chest was a map of stitched lines.  It disgusted Haley as much as it would have had he been disgorging his entrails.  Something about those kinds of tight stitched patterns had always grossed Haley out.  She could handle the blood better than the patchwork. 

“You were hurt bad,” said Buddy.  “Did the kid do this?”

Face shook his head.

“The whore?”  Face nodded.  “With what?”

Face tapped the elongated blade strapped to his thigh. 

Carp chuckled.  “She got you with your own machete?”

Buddy stepped closer, bending at the hips to study the wounds.  “Yeah, she got you good.  Damn lucky you’re alive.”

Face nodded in agreement.

“So, you hung out here to heal?”

Another nod.

“The kid let you?”

Another nod still. 

Buddy grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed as if this was making him tense.  Haley could relate.  She was so tense it felt like she had concrete under her skin.

“This was on Monday…correct?  You got hacked up on Monday?”

Face nodded, but cautiously. 

“So after you got stitched up why didn’t you come back to camp?  We gave you until sunrise on Tuesday morning to make it back.  Then Carp and I hiked through those fucking woods, sleeping under the stars on damp ground, and found your other mess in the woods, then we teamed up with some fat kid to get into the neighbor’s house…then the fat kid got killed which fucked up our plans of having him get uh-uh…”

“Joel,” Carp added.

Were they talking about Paul?

“The fat kid’s death ruined getting Joel for us, who we had planned on using to lure you next door, so after killing the people that lived there we had to invade
another
house…”

Haley jumped to her feet, unable to listen to another word.  “Stop it!  All of you just shut the fuck up!”  Haley leaned over, her chest over her thighs.  “I can’t take this anymore…You bastards are talking about my brother like he’s some kind of maniac, and if you say anything else like that I’m going to gouge your fucking eyes out!” 

Carp shoved past Buddy, and planted his shoulder between her breasts.  She lifted off her feet, her back striking the top of the couch.  Her limbs slapped the wall, and then she rolled back, bouncing off the cushions, and crashing to the floor beside the couch. 

She made an
oomph
noise. 

Face moved at Carp as if he were about to attack, but suddenly stopped. 

Carp slowly stood up straight.  Messing with the waist of his pants, he looked at Face.  “Got a problem with the way I’m handling the lady?” 

Face didn’t move, but if looks could kill, Carp was dead two minutes ago.

Buddy looked back and forth from Face to Haley.  She watched them from the floor, her arm clutched to her belly. 

“Carp asks an interesting question, Face. 
Do
you have a problem with the way he’s handling the lady?  I mean, you know I never approve of pointless violence against women, but you’ve never seemed to care either way.  Something about this one that’s got you changing your mind?”

Face looked at Haley.  For the first time, she actually saw his eyes, and could almost see into them, to the anger and pain behind them.  It only lasted a second, but Haley learned a lot about him just in that glimpse.  He was hurting, and not just physically, there was great pain in his heart.  He was a lonely person who used his sorrow to express his hate. 

What made him this way?

She looked at the other two and wondered the same thing about them.

“So, that’s it then?” asked Buddy.  “She’s the reason, huh?  You stayed here because of her.”

Face lowered his head.

“A woman…”  Buddy shook his head.  A single tear spilled from his eye and trickled down his cheek.  He wiped it away with the back of his hand.  “Never have I once questioned your loyalty to the group, or to the mission.  You were the one who understood what we are meant to do from the beginning. My number one guy…the one I always knew would have my back…”

“Well he totally fucked you, didn’t he?” asked Carp, amusement in his voice.

“Yes, he did Carp, and for a goddamn woman.” 

Buddy slugged Face where a stitched line snaked down from his chest to his belly button, making the large man stoop down with a groan.  Haley felt sympathy for him, but the anger she held for Buddy was much stronger. 

Pushing Face back up straight, Buddy pressed against him with rage boiling in his eyes. “Don’t you remember the stories I told you about Amy, the woman I was going to marry?  And all the shit she did to me?  How she fucked with my mind the entire time I was over in Iraq, only to dump me two days after we get back?”  He slapped Face somewhere around the same spot he’d punched him, inducing another bellow of pain from the big man.  “That’s what women do Face, that’s what they do” 

He snatched the collar of Face’s shirt, the s
ame shirt that looked an awful lot like the shirt Haley’s father would wear when working on the cars, and lugged him to where she lay on the floor. 

“Look at her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

“Damn right she is,” agreed Carp. 

Buddy whipped his head around.  “Go get the shit from next door!”

“Can’t it wait?  I’m enjoying the hell out of this.”

Fuming, Buddy turned his back on Carp to focus on Haley.  “Look at her close…look at those legs…you like her legs don’t you?” 

Face hadn’t moved from his hitched over position.  Dabs of blood dripped from between the stitches and onto the floor.  His eyes were squinting.  Haley could tell he was in some serious pain.

“Yeah,” continued Buddy.  “You like her legs…You were playing with them when we found you. Think back to that moment, when you held her smooth leg in your hand. Do you have the image?”

Face didn’t acknowledge the question. 

“I’m sure you do…Concentrate
real
hard on that moment.  Now, take your eyes away from her delicate legs and look at her face.  Remember the look on her face?  Was it a pleasurable look?”  Buddy tapped him on the shoulder. “Did it look like she was having a good time?” 

Face took a couple deep breaths, then finally shook his head.

“No, it didn’t. You’re absolutely right. She was grimacing wasn’t she?  Looking at you just as that little girl did…remember the little girl?  Remember how she looked at you?”  Buddy frowned as if the memory hurt even him.  “You got off the bus…your face covered with bandages except for your eyes…” 

Face stood up straight, his eyes that had looked so helpless only moments ago now scorched with rage. 

Buddy didn’t let up. “Remember what she
said
to you?”

As if on a prompt that only they could hear, Buddy and Carp began to chant together.  “Pillowface.  Pillowface.  Look Mama, he’s got a pillow face…” 

Carp stopped, but Buddy kept talking.  “Oh how she laughed and laughed…oh how she laughed at your scars…laughed at your ugliness.  But, you weren’t always ugly…you were
made
ugly…and that little girl thought your injuries were hysterical…”

Face shoved Buddy so hard his feet left the floor.  By the time he landed
, Face was throwing his fists around, hitting whatever he could, and smashing anything he could find.  As his blatant rage consumed him, Buddy hooted from the floor, egging him on, cheering for him.

Haley watched as Face scooped Alan off the floor and chucked him through the sliding glass door in one swoop. Carp leaped out of the way, just missing Alan’s body folding and contorting awkwardly as it crashed through the thick glass.  He landed on the brick patio outside in a shower of broken shards. 

Alan was too far away to see if he was all right, but Haley doubted that he was.  Her eyes welled up, and her chest pinched tight.  She fought to hold back the sobs, because she knew that was what Buddy wanted to see, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to cry. 

A few minutes later, when Face was spent and on his knees on the floor, panting heavily from behind the mask, Buddy finally turned to Carp. 

“Go get the shit from next door or I’ll let him do that to
you
next.” He pointed at Alan.

This time Carp didn’t argue. He walked to the shattered doors, and carefully stepped through the large jagged breach made by Alan’s body.  Glass crunched under his boots as he walked away, avoiding Alan’s fallen form. 

Haley crawled as far away from Face as the room would allow.  She nestled in the space between the couch and the wall, hugging her knees to her chest.  She had still managed to keep her sobs at bay, but she didn’t know if she could much longer. 

“If that guy’s not back with the kid in twenty minutes, I want you to go get him so we can finish this.” 

Face nodded. 

Haley quickly looked away as tears began to leak from her eyes.  From this side of the couch, she had a great view of the far wall.  A clock hung from a nail in the center of the wall between some artificial floras.  Its time read as: 6:51. 

Her crying spell stopped cold in her chest. It was almost seven, and she remembered what she had planned for that time.
Dinner.
Not just any dinner, but a special meal that was going to be shared with Alan, and Joel, and…

Carlee. 

(I)

By the time Joel had reached Marble Lane, the blazing sun had surrendered to the softer shades of dusk.  The sky was an orange and red flush.  Choruses of crickets were just beginning the opening bars of their concerts. 

An owl hooted, scaring Joel so badly that he jumped. For a split second Joel thought someone had called his name.   

He’d decided to take the same way back he and Pillowface had before to avoid being spotted. He dragged the shovel indolently behind him, stepping onto the gruff-coated blacktop, and panting.  He’d never been so out of breath. Stopping in the road, he bent over, resting his head against the rod. He spotted chunks of Geoffrey Jones’ skull flaked across the flat-base. He should be appalled, but seeing the gore was like a sadistic proof of victory for him. 

Looks like it does in the movies, a crunchy shell with some gooey delights thrown in for effect. 

He was so enthralled by his observation that he didn’t notice the headlights until his body was illuminated in their blazing glow. He gasped as the car whipped around the curve, opened his mouth to scream, but tensed up, helping him to understand fully how a deer could do the same. 

The car’s brakes locked. He could hear the tires crunching over small pieces of gravel as it swerved to the shoulder. 

It came to an abrupt halt a foot short of plowing him over. 

He nearly crapped his pants. Of all he’d been through, it took almost being run down to make him feel human again.  It was like a kick in the head by how jarred he felt coming back to reality.  His body shook thunderously.  His fingers stiffened, making it impossible to hold the shovel.  It fell to the road, clanging when it hit. 

He heard a door open and looked up to see someone stepping out of the car.  Bathed in the black ink shadows, he couldn’t interpret who they were, not at first, but the voice was incredibly comforting to hear.  “Joel?” 

Carlee? 

“My God, is that you?” The shape ran around the car and into the flush of the headlights, revealing her to be who he’d suspected, and looking better than he could have predicted. 
Carlee. 
Though it was only last night, it felt like months since he’d seen her last. She kneeled in front of him, looking up into his eyes.  He was tall for his age, but still not taller than her, so seeing Carlee below him, and where he could gaze down at her, was an incredible feeling. It almost made him forget that he probably looked like Michael Myers from the opening of the original Halloween. 

His clothes were stained with a blend of dirt and blood.  His hair, matted with sweat, twisted and coiled about his head like a nest constructed by a bird blind in one eye.  And he stunk.  Reeked.  An odor reminiscent of a sewer, or a leaking septic tank on a summer day. 

None of that seemed like it mattered to Carlee.  If she’d noticed the aroma or his appearance, she hadn’t given it a second thought.  Grabbing his arms, she wrenched him against her pleasing chest and hugged him.  “What
happened
to you? Were you attacked?  Did someone do this to you?” 

At first he resisted the urge to tell her what was going on. 

But, it didn’t last. 

He began unveiling the sinister tale through a muffled voice obscured between her breasts. She didn’t bother moving him, or adjusting, she only waited, listening. Surprisingly, he found it easy to confess his actions over the past few days to her. Of course he’d left out the parts where he’d fantasized about molesting the dead girl. He felt Carlee could do without that fact. 

When he’d finished coming clean, he felt sick, because in his mind it hadn’t seemed that bad, almost like a movie he’d cut together in his imagination with people he knew as the cast of characters. The monsters were supposed to be fake. Make believe. But hearing it aloud, and from his own voice, it had finally become extremely authentic.

He couldn’t believe all he’d done.  All he’d allowed Pillowface to do. 

And yet, considering all of that, he still couldn’t hate him for it. 

“Jonesey did this to you?”

He nodded. When he’d told her the boss that she and Haley shared had been demanded to bring him to the house, she had seemed appalled, but not surprised. They agreed that he probably wasn’t involved with the others, but he wasn’t entirely innocent either.  His role in all this was very confusing. When Joel confessed to killing him in self-defense, Carlee didn’t even blink an eye. 

“And, Haley’s with these people now, but we don’t know what they look like?” 

He nodded.  It was impressive that she’d believed everything he’d said without the slightest hesitation.  That was when he knew he truly loved her. 

“We should call the police,” she said.

“No,” he said.  His voice was raspy as if he’d been at a concert screaming all the lyrics.  “If they see the cops coming they’ll kill her for sure.  They’re holding out for me to get there before they do anything, and I don’t know what they’ve done with Pillowface, but he may not be able to stop them.” 

“Shit.”  She looked at the black sky as if the answers were perhaps aligned amongst the stars.  Joel wished they were.  Then she brought her pitiful expression back to him.  “We can’t go get her out of there.  They’ll kill her and
us
at the drop of a hat.  We’re totally fucked.” 

“I don’t know…” 

“What?  Do you have a plan?” 

“Not really, but maybe we can come up with something together?” 

“We should really call the police.  Maybe get them to meet us at the end of the road.  They can infiltrate the house, raid it.  Get her out of there.” 

“Right, and shoot everyone in the house.”  Carlee looked distressed.  She chewed at her lip as if it were gum.  “I want to save Pillowface, too, and get him out of there and on his way before the cops show up.” 

“Even after what he did to Tonya?  You still think he’s a good person?” 

Knowing that Carlee would find it hard to understand what he was about to say, he tried to quickly organize it in his head.  “Something about him is a lot like me.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“It’s true.  I’m not saying I could do the things he’s done and I’m sure what I don’t know about is just as bad, if not worse.  But, there’s a connection.  I know he’s good at heart, but somewhere along the way, he lost it.” 

“And you think you’ve helped him find it?” 

“I think we’ve helped each other more than we both realize.”

“Because you’re alike?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I accepted him, and he accepted me. No judgment, no discrimination.  Just two people, two friends, trying to adapt to what the other person is.” 

She smiled. “You’re pretty slick, you know that?  I always knew you were something special.” 

He blushed.  A rush of heat ignited the back of his neck, and reddened his cheeks.  He felt extremely proud of the fact he’d caused her to say that.    

Carlee was quiet a moment. Then she said, “Okay, if we do this, we have to construct a
solid
plan.  It’s crucial that we stick to it, no matter what.” 

“I agree.” 

“All right. Let’s talk this out, quickly. Because, I doubt we have much time left.” 

He agreed with that, too, but had a strong feeling they were already too late. 

(II)

The barbwire hurt, but not as bad as it should. Maybe she’d become so numb that she couldn’t feel it, or possibly she was already dead and could no longer feel pain. She guessed the real reason the barbwire didn’t poke her that bad was because Face had been the one to bind her wrists to the chair before disappearing to a corner of the room where it was hard to see him.

Simple as that.

He liked her. She could tell that even if he hadn’t confessed it, but so could everyone else, which was why they’d been so hateful to him.  She also knew it was why they were going to torture her and Joel severely, just to prove a hellacious point to Face for coming here in the first place. 

Why
had
he come here? That was the million dollar question. She thought back to Joel’s erratic phone call the other day. He’d called her and told her about the maniac in the backyard, and she hadn’t believed him. If only she would have. He’d been asking her for help, but she had ignored him and told him to handle it, and this was how he’d handled it. 

It was all her fault.  She should have taken him seriously.
He’s a kid for christsake. He pulls shit like this all the time.
She glanced around the room again.  Yes, if she would have at least
listened
to what he had to say that morning there was a good chance that none of this would have happened.

She tried to avoid looking at the broken glass where Alan was still lying, but couldn’t help herself. Gazing at his crumpled body, she felt as if her heart had been smashed with a hammer. His death was her fault too. She wasn’t even going to be optimistic about it. He was dead. There was no possibility he’d survived such a brutal throw. 

When Carp had returned with the bags, Buddy ordered Face to strap her down.  She was glad it had been him; because he’d been so gentle with her, but she despised him most of all because of how much he’d tainted her brother’s innocence, and also because he’d been the one who’d killed Alan.

If she got the chance, she would kill Face first.      

Buddy stepped out from the kitchen, running a wet hand through his hair.  It looked as if he’d been running water in his hands and splashing his face.  His camera sat on the end-table, the mask on top.  He took them, walked to the center of the living room, and positioned the mask back on top of his head, the plastic face aimed at the ceiling.  He twirled around.  The camera was nestled under his arm, his hands out in front of him.  With each hand he extended his thumb, but kept the four fingers tightly together.  Then, matching up their poses to form a square, he held them straight out, squinting one eye as he observed the layout of the room through the small opening he’d made.

My god,
she thought,
he’s setting up the shot. 

As if approving, he lifted his eyebrows and nodded.  “Not too shabby.  The room’s layout is perfect. Flat walls on each side, a good solid foundation in the middle, and plenty of room to work with.”

He looked at Haley.  She quickly glanced in the other direction, but knew he’d already caught her staring.

“Were you wondering what I was doing with my hands just then?”  He repeated the motion.

“Not really,” she said. 

Ignoring her answer, he responded as if she’d invited him to explain.  “See, these old cameras only film in 4x3, full frame. So, I have to frame up the angles like that just to make sure everything I want to shoot will fit on the screen.  Make sense?” 

“Perfect,” she said, but couldn’t care less. 

Carp stuck his head into the room from the patio. “There’s some gas cans half full in their shed. Want me to take one of them next door and douse the place?”

Buddy seemed to think on it a moment, then nodded.  “Yeah, but don’t light it, if the neighbors see smoke before we’re gone it’ll be trouble.”

“All right, you got it.” 

Then he was gone just as quickly as he’d arrived. 

Finally, Haley had to ask. “What do you plan on doing to us?”

Buddy gazed at her from over his shoulder, his wicked grin prophetic to the madness behind it. 

“Why are you doing this to us?  We didn’t do anything to you!”  As pathetic and hopeless as she sounded, what she’d said was the truth. They
hadn’t
done a damn thing to them, yet here they were, enacting punishment as if they had. 

Buddy whipped around so quickly, Haley gasped. “Those are just hollow sentences girly, because you have done more to us than others.  While we were overseas, fighting a pointless war over oil prices, you sat here, in this luscious house with air conditioning, three large meals a day, working a goddamn overpaying nine to five job while people that worked harder than you could ever imagine protecting you had to sleep in holes dug in the sand with the constant risk of being pricked by scorpions. 

“And while we’re killing ourselves for you; you sit here in this luxury complaining about how prices are going up on milk. Whining about how it’s a little hot and humid out today or my expensive car just doesn’t have the padded seats like I wanted.” Foamy spit fired from his mouth as he unloaded on her. 

Face somberly appeared from the shadows as if he was curious. 

“We marched through sandstorms with temperatures in the hundreds.  Our
padded
seats were broken crates in the back of a Jeep. We had no cereal and hardly any milk to complain about. Just dehydrated meat, old bread, and nearly boiling water to drink.”

“I’m sorry…okay? I knew it was bad over there, but…I had no idea….”

Buddy stopped her right there.  “
Bad
over there?” He laughed as if revolted.  “You didn’t just honestly say it was
bad
over there.”