The Things We Bury - Part 2: No Big Apocalypse [Completed]

Chapter 7: Bad As Me (Part 5 of 7)

The dregs of the soda made a hollow gasp inside the paper cup. Horus shook it, rattling the ice inside, and tried again for one last sip.

There was once a man whose doctor had made him quit eating fried food, candy bars, and fructose corn syrup drinks. That man was thrown into a dark hole and disappeared forever. Now Horus ate all of those fatty, sweet, salty, and over-processed foods. He did it with none of the abandon of someone falling off-the-wagon. That would have required a level of joy, something entirely lacking from Horus's being. He ate out of cold convenience. It was quicker to pick up his meals at gas stations than worry about diet, calories, or cholesterol. And what he picked up at these gas stations could be eaten as he drove. It meant he only stopped to get fuel (for the car and him) and sleep (the car could keep going but unfortunately he still need some).

There was thud from the cargo compartment. It wasn't the first. Something had gotten loose in back. He hated the thought of slowing down and letting the Kyles widen the distance again but there was a self-contained aspect to his existence. Like a lone astronaut in cold space, he had to keep his capsule tended. But he couldn't stop in the middle of the highway, he'd have to wait until the next exit.

He gazed out at the wide open road in front of him. The highway was a bright, incandescent band of gold, an illusion caused by the glare on the pavement and the polarized sunglasses he wore. In comparison, everything in the car was cool darkness.

His bony hand gripped the steering wheel. A small line of dried blood ran along the cuticle of his left thumb. It wasn't his blood. Horus needed to take more care when he washed.

A fuzziness entered his head like a low early-morning fog. The thought of being clean and presentable brought back images of manicures, close shaves, and crisp white shirts. Ghosts didn't need to worry about such things. He didn't need to be clean for his appearance. Horus struggled through the thoughts, placing them like building blocks one by one to climb out of this haze. It wasn't about his pride. That was gone. It was about the fact he still had blood on him.

He still had a remnant of Kyle Silver on him.

There was only one more yellow blip on his map. Soon his work would be done. Soon they would all be gone and he could rest.

Last night, he had tracked down two more Kyles at a roadside motel. Their car was parked out front. Whatever the laptop used to track them was still inside but the Kyles were not. They were out, prowling around the complex, peeking in windows, clearly looking for someone.

For the first time, Horus began to question what they were up to. Why had three cars been heading east, so far from the hive? They had set out before Horus escaped, so it had nothing to do with running from him or searching for him. What motivated them? The Kyle he had known was only driven by sex, drugs, and other hedonistic pleasures. And when his sins no longer held him up, Kyle wallowed in self-pity and misery. But not these Kyles.

These Kyles were stronger than the one he knew all those years ago. They didn't seem prone to depression or excess. It was strange.

Horus grabbed the smaller Kyle in the courtyard. If this Kyle screamed it would alert the other one. Care was needed. The palm fronds seemed to sway with Horus's breaths, while he waited for Kyle to walk by the patch of overgrown shrubs and their long deep shadows.  Kyle didn't notice Horus until he had wrapped his arm around his neck. Years of captivity with nothing to do but pace and run through rudimentary calisthenics, like sit-ups and push-ups had left Horus's limbs thin but sinewy. The arm slithered across Kyle's throat with the quickness of a snake, then sprang back with a sudden jerk as though snapping up prey.

Kyle let out of a gurgle of surprise as Horus pulled him up and backward. His fingers clawed at Horus's forearms, frantic at first but then more feebly. Kyle's toes kicked at the ground pushing off and sending the two of them in a spin. They danced like this for several minutes. It was anything but quiet. To Horus it seemed like the sound of their struggle would wake the whole motel. The night was filled with the heavy rasp of Horus's breath, Kyle's grunts, skin slapping skin, fabric rustling, shoes scraping on concrete.

And at last, Kyle was still and peace flooded back in. Horus released him and he dropped straight into the pool which they had somehow worked themselves toward in the scuffle. The body splashed into the glowing aqua waters and sank like a black rock past the underwater lights.

Footsteps came rapidly overhead and Horus slunk back to the bushes.

"Ken," Kyle called leaning over the second floor railing. "Ken! Tazaki!" Then he was racing down the stairs to the pool.

Kyle was in such a rush to rescue the other incarnation of himself, he never even glanced toward the shadows where Horus hid. As he ran by, Horus stopped breathing.

The exertion of killing made Horus need to gasp deep mouthfuls of air but the sight of Kyle—this particular Kyle—stopped him cold. He despised all these Kyles each and every one of them, but this one had been present at several of the backroom sessions. Those awful hours spent in that small room at the back of the house, where Horus was imprisoned, had been like several lifetimes and he wouldn't forget a single participant, not ever.

This Kyle had only been a guard but he laughed each time the electrodes were applied, taking more pleasure in it than the taciturn Kyle administrating the device. He'd taunt Horus as he fought to recover, still reeling from the flashing, burning, deadening, pain.

"Hey asshole, that feel good? Did that zap any sense into you? You better tell him what he wants to know." There was exhilaration in his voice. Horus's pain stirred up something in his psyche much like arousal.

That same Kyle now stood over the pool, screaming at the waters as though the other one might hear him, not realizing it was too late. Not realizing the other Kyle had already been returned to the netherworld. He pulled off his shoes preparing to dive in.

And that was when Horus stepped up and placed the barrel of the gun to his temple.

At the next exit, Horus pulled off the interstate, taking the SUV a half mile to a deserted stretch of roadway. The rattling in the back of the truck was only getting worse. He glanced around as he got out making sure it was safe. Examining the trees nearby and the road in the distance, ensuring no one was around who might attack him.

The SUV's rear hatch swung up, and Sadist Kyle came into view. The silver duct tape binding his legs and wrists was stretched out and thin compared to the neat flat coils that Horus first wrapped around him. The wad that covered his mouth was slimy with blood and spittle. The cut by his eye had scabbed over and the dried blood was beginning to flake off. He bucked and fought against his binds even with Horus standing right there.

"Quiet you." Horus slammed the butt of the pistol against the side of his head, once, twice. Silence.

Horus closed the hatch and climbed into the driver's seat. He still hadn't decided what exactly he was going to do with Kyle, but the possibilities—the possibilities brought a smile to his lips. 

***

Author's Note: Apologies, it is a bit of a short one this week. This part was originally supposed to be paired with last week's Alicia scene but didn't get done in time. Only two left in this chapter and with any luck they'll both go up next week.

As a side note, I have started posting Solving Swanfield, a supernatural mystery. Don't worry, it won't stop me from putting up new postings of TTWB2 on Fridays. I'm just hoping having the new work on Wattpad will give me a push to work more on editing it.