The Way Out of the Dark
Autor
G. L. Holliday
Leituras
224K
Capítulos
30
Chapter One
The table in front of him was silent, aside from the sound of poker chips sliding to one side, and a throbbing in The Man’s throat where he felt like throwing up. Gleeful chittering came with the hands that reached out from the other side of the table. The Man pulled feverishly at his wallet, hoping to have anything to balance out the table, and the eyes that flashed in the darkly lit room were eager like wild dogs. The Man even thought he saw the glint of a rabid maw, foaming in delight as he fumbled with his fingers to open his wallet.
The harsh light above him beared down on his forehead, making him sweat more than already was at the single table, in the private room and to The Man’s horror, to private eyes.
A satisfied sigh came like cool, flowing water from the gambler sitting across from The Man. The Gambler was rumored to have more money than everyone in the casino combined. The Man thought he was clever enough. Surely if The Gambler was willing to put his money into this town’s second-rate casino, he was easy to fool.
“That is a thing of beauty right there,” The Gambler cooed. His accent wasn’t out of place, but it was notably more drawn than any of the locals.
The Man paused to look up, assuming The Gambler across from him was talking about the card game he had earned, but to his surprise, The Gambler’s gaze was fixed to his wallet.
The Man brought his eyes down in horror to his wallet, wondering what The Gambler could possibly want from him. Whatever it was, he was willing to give it up.
“How much?” The gambler asked, pointing. When The Man followed his finger, his eyebrows cinched together. A rumbling storm of sickness fell into his stomach, causing him to clench his teeth.
“What?” The Man asked, the question barely escaping his lips entirely whole.
“Unless you’re willing to bet your life,” The Gambler spoke, his voice darkening.
“How much is it worth to you?”
***
It was as if every single person in Las Cruces disappeared, got up and left without looking back- and for good reason. It was that time of year in the beautiful state of New Mexico where it felt like the sun was burning a hole in the back of your shirt, even when you’re in the shade. The only place where you could find relief from the August Hellfire was the fridge- or in my case, the cooler.
There was nothing worse than being stuck at work on a beautiful day, except for being stuck at work on a disgustingly hot day. Most people were at home in air-conditioned rooms- and some die hard suntanners were soaking it up poolside. Circle K wasn’t even in my top five places to be right now. I would disappear elsewhere if I could., too
My manager, Mr. Tamarind, didn’t think my idea of keeping the cooler door open was practical and he objected when I offered the alternative of staying inside the cooler. I’ll admit, it was difficult to ring up someone from inside the cooler. Not that there was anyone to ring up. The bell at the door only rang twice; once for a guy asking for directions, and the other was the delivery man with a shipment of beer. And both times, I had been standing in my oasis of the cooler.
Instead, I leaned against the counter, a fan oscillating in front of me, likely bought several years ago by the last cashier. I’d long given up on the thing. Any comfort it brought me was minimal. If anything it made things worse. Even when the fan shone a slight breeze, it left me otherwise with stale air, the temperature of a dog’s hot mouth as it turned squeakily on its axis. My skin felt the full weight of the dry heat and I’d abandoned the flannel shirt I wore to work, leaving only a tank top and not bothering to replace my worn name badge.
The only sound that accompanied me was the static of the radio, playing a song in Spanish, the guitar trilling with the voice as it crooned in tune. There was the quick gleam of a car rushing by the open windows and the display fridges kicked on with a hum. Other than the rogue teen trying to buy with a fake license, I didn’t expect to see anyone.
On days like this, when it was too hot to do anything, there was a lot of time left for thinking. I let my mind wander to mundane things like dinner and what I’ll do when I get home from work. Then, like a gut punch I remembered what I couldn’t come home to.
The door swung open with the chime of a brass bell, a nauseating warm breeze flowing in with the patron. She was tall and tanned with shiny legs coming out from her denim shorts. Her wavy blonde hair covered her shirt but I’d reckon it was at least a tee shirt clinging to her torso. She turned down the aisle to the coolers, likely to get a cold drink and be on her way, as I would if I could. I turned to my till and logged on, the old machine taking a minute to come awake. I heard a can clink against the counter and a high-voiced greeting came from the girl.
“How are you on this fine day?” I asked, mostly as normal, though I was torturing myself being interested in knowing if it was better or worse stuck inside here. But I felt my customer service mask slip, realizing the girl standing in front of me was Lexxi Hestor- my high school best friend.
To my knowledge, we hadn’t ended things on bad terms, but I hadn’t heard from her in… six years?! Had it really been that long? Last I checked she was going to college for a Psychology major, and had big plans to go to New York for an internship. That was all six years ago? Which means I’ve been working at this stupid Circle K for.. Oh God.
“It’s really terrible out there,” Lexxi laughed, “You’re better off in here.” I feigned a laugh at what she said but hadn’t planned anything to say back. As I scanned her drink, I became hyper aware of everywhere I was sweating, how dirty my hair was. Lexxi looked like she just stepped off a beach, gleaming and rosy. She even smelled good, her perfume was sweet and it met my nose when she brought her bag onto the counter to get her wallet. I didn’t want to think about how I must’ve smelled.
I had just started to think that maybe Lexxi didn’t remember me, which stung only a little but was all the more grateful to be free of the embarrassment, when she tilted her head and paused with a sigh.
“You remember who I am right? Lexxi?” she asked, her voice almost pleading. My face went slack.
“Yes- of course I do. You came to my wedding,” I offered, to avoid having to say best friends at my age. I almost immediately regretted letting the words out of my mouth, though.
“Oh yeah! How is Evan?” she asked, fingering her card from her wallet. I smiled unsure. Sleeping peacefully in our bed while I’m on my mother’s couch.
“He’s good, still in the District,” I said, the spotlight burning a hole through the top of my head. “He was promoted to Detective, actually,” I added, trying to take the heat off of me. I’ve finally pinpointed that as the downfall of our young marriage in all of my nights thinking on the couch. His late night and my long hours were beginning to separate us like oil and water.
“Oh, that’s great,” Lexxi said in response, and took me off guard with a smile that sent me back to high school. A smile she would have never used on me, reserved only for those she was about to make miserable. Maybe it’s changed its purpose over the years, maybe I’m overthinking it.
“I can’t believe you’re still working here,” she said and my heart dropped into my stomach. Eight years, my mind whispered, predicting her every move like a predator stalking through the brush.
“How long has it been?” Lexxi asked, staring right through me. Eight years, my mind repeated, again subjugating itself to her and her white teeth. She knew all the anxiety that I was feeling, like she could sense it. She was the same Lexxi I shared bowls of popcorn with and secrets and the other side of my bed when she slept over. She was digging her nails into my soft spots and I just as well pointed them out for her to latch onto.
“Have a great day,” I said, my voice not above a whisper as I handed her the drink she bought. She smiled, taking it from my hand and walked out without another word.
Even after the initial shock of Lexxi turning on me, the thing that kept me stunned was how long I had been in the same place. Eight years at the same job I’ve had since high school, married for nearly just as long to a man I don’t share a bed with anymore. The worst part of it all is after all of it, I’m still sleeping in my childhood home- on the couch, with the dog.
If my fight with Evan was the match that struck, Lexxi was the accelerant that poured all over it. I was sure now what I wanted- more. Where it was and how I was going to get it was one thing but I knew I wanted it. Now, it was just a matter of how to tell Evan.
I tried to quiet my mind by going on my phone. There were two missed calls from Evan, both going unanswered and unreturned. I had a notification that my lunch was ready from two hours ago and a notification from a News app on my phone. Normally that too would go ignored but the words ‘New Mexico’ drew me in and had me nervous to read more. Was there another fire in the hotlands, or maybe another petty thief robbing a grocery store? Those, I reminded myself, were just distractions from what I was dreading to see, what we all knew was coming to the city.
FBI Tracks Casino Killer’s Movements After Texas Man Found Dead Off Route 40, New Mexico Residents Warned to Proceed with Caution.
The article went on to state that the Casino Killer, the name given as all of his victims were last seen going out gambling, was closing in on Mexico. They mused that his plan was to either go through New Mexico or back through Texas but that seemed unlikely because they were already looking for him there.
There was a blurry picture at the bottom of the article, with a warning to stay away from him, as he was dangerous. The image was a still from a security camera, his face covered by his pullover around his mouth, a cap covering his hair. The only thing that remained uncovered were his eyes, dark and piercing- like even the pigment in them was evil.
Everyone in Las Cruces had heard of what the Casino Killer was capable of. It took until a second victim, a young man’s death, for people to start noticing, and the third man in Texas brought in FBI attention. They were killed brutally and left in various places along major highways. To me, this meant two things; they were usually on the run and despite the victims seeming to be a random assortment of men, there was a reason they were killed.
The FBI suspected it was a crime of greed, highly likely as the victims were gamblers. But other than them all being men, and being between 30 and 45 years old, there was nothing linking the victims to each other.
That was what scared me the most.; random, senseless killing. Who could be next?
Listas de leitura
Ver tudoMergulhe no romance com coleções de livros selecionadas pela nossa comunidade de leitores.
