Page 48 of Dead Love
The dealer went back inside, and the others exited too. For the most part, Andrew fit in with the club’s target audience, but that didn’t matter. Neither of us was supposed to be there.
“What are you doing here, Erickson?” he asked.
“I should be asking you the same thing.”
“I’m here on the job.” He rested his hand against his pistol. “Investigating for the sheriff.”
“Could I find that in a report somewhere?” I tilted my head.
Andrew widened his stance. “Mike is too busy with the campaign. But I have got to make sure we can catch the murderer.” His jaw clicked. “Funny thing is, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
I cracked a forced smile. “What are you really doing here, Drew?”
He grit his teeth. “Investigating suspects, Vinny.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I knew the asshole wasn’t going to let me do anything. I tapped my chin. “Enjoy the rest of your shift. I’ll see you around.”
I went through the club to the entrance, and the same man with the flat cap on his head—Deacon, the dealer—was waiting outside. He waved to me before I made it to my car.
“Why are you so interested in Echo, man?” he asked. “It seems a little young for you.”
“I’m a mortician,” I said, but that didn’t explain anything. Not even to me. “Curiosity, I guess.”
He studied me closely. “You want to get rid of this sonofabitch?”
He wanted me to say ‘yes,’ so I nodded, even though that wasn’t the true goal. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and shook my hand, a small object palmed inside of our grip.
“I have a friend who got a hold of it once,” he said, “but he doesn’t know where it came from. I haven’t touched it because I’m tired of it.” He laughed. “It’s bad for business. Can’t do anything if your customers keep dying.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. Get the killer.”
On the drive back, my body hummed with energy, agitation leaking into my bloodstream. Nothing had felt right since Kora. The urge surfaced with vengeance—the compulsion to destroy scratching at me like a bad itch that I couldn’t reach. I had buried it long before my brother’s death, but now it was here. Crawling out. Like it would never give up. But I couldn’t take it out on Kora. Not yet.
To the side of the road, a firepit flickered through the trees. I slowed my vehicle and watched: teenagers, maybe college students, were surrounding it, passing around beers. I stared at the green pill in my palm, at the three curved black lines on the top. Why were these kids hanging out in the forest, anyway? Didn’t they know that a bunch of kids their age had died here recently? I split the tablet in half, then put it on my tongue. Put the other half back in my pocket.
I parked to the side of the road where I could see the flames. Grabbing my tools, I went through the woods. Even when my boots snapped the branches, none of them cared. They laughed with each other. They were invincible. I poured the canister, going as close to them as I could without being seen. Then I lit a match and dropped it to the ground.
The fire blazed up, swallowing a clear path toward them. I stepped back, letting the flames come close enough to share their heat, but far enough away that nothing touched me. The fire crackled behind them, but no one noticed. None of them had a worry in the world. Finally, one looked up.
“Fire!”
“What?”
“Shit!”
They ran through the trees, scattering like cockroaches. Screaming for their lives. My heartbeat raced. Once they were gone, I returned to my car, then drove. They were smart; none of them would die. But it thrilled me to watch them run.
At the house, I was rejuvenated, but still desperate to feel. I rested the half-pill on the easel in my studio. The Echo hadn’t done shit. I had tried cocaine, heroin, and MDMA before, but this?
I felt blank.
There was no monster coming to kill me. The only monster was me.
I debated taking the second half, but I didn’t care that much. Anger flashed in my veins, hot and ready. I needed a better outlet. I needed to do something about the problem in my basement, the problem that was burning me alive from the inside.
I wonder what the dead feel like,Kora had said. Was she that ungrateful for her life? I would show her, one fucking day.
