Mac bolted upright in bed drenched with sweat, searching around frantically as he attempted to remember where he was, trying to shake off the disorientation that always accompanied waking up after coming down hard. Finally his eyes focused in on a sketch on the wall. He was home. In his room. Not in the hellish shadow world that plagued his nightmares and sometimes spilled over into his waking hours. Haus' barking caused him to clutch his oversensitive head as it screamed in protest.
"Shut tha fuck up!" he bellowed, throwing an empty beer bottle out the open window for good measure before his eyes returned to the arachnid drawing. "Stupid mutt."
His phone buzzing erratically took his attention off the tweak spider. Fucking Walter. Twenty six missed calls. He blindly grabbed for the tin on his night table and flipped it open, snorting as much powder as his nose could handle in one sniff before throwing the tin back. Mac snatched his phone up and answered the call with a half growled half groaned out "What!"
"Where the fuck you been the last three days boy!?" the gruff voice of his father demanded over the line. "We gonna be late on the order this week because you cant keep your shit together! You get your worthless ass out to the cave and don't come out until we're caught up." Walter ordered, hanging up the phone before Mac had the chance to tell him to fuck off.
"Goddamn lazy spick." Mac grumbled as he tugged on a pair of dirty coveralls.
He hated Walter but always did what he was told. Always obeying like a loyal dog. He worked his ass off for his father's approval while his half brother Devon automatically got it without even trying. Mac had even cleaned up golden boy's fuck up. But did he even get a thank you? No. Nothing but more orders.
Mac stumbled his way down the front steps of his dilapidated house, equilibrium off, entire body out of sync from crashing so hard. His own crank just didn't seem to be cutting it today. He threw himself into the cab of his truck, slammed it into gear and gunned it towards the old highway closest to the turnoff for the cave.
Half way there a blinding pain tore through his skull. Coming down was a bitch. He needed the good shit. The rose tinted meth was so expensive he'd blown three months worth of his cut of the profit from their business. Just for half a kilo.
He'd been saving the little more than three grams he had left for when he really needed it. It'd become impossible to get in the last four months. People who made it probably got busted. Damn shame too, it was the best shit he'd ever had.
Taking his eyes off the road he reached over and opened up the glove box. The little baggie with a pink crystal insignia on it was just within the tips of his fingers when a blaring horn stole his attention back to the road.
Kristy had been driving for twenty six hours straight. Stopping only to pull over on the side of the road to pee a handful of times and once to get food. No time for a motel. With enough paraphernalia in the back of her car to put her away for a long time she didn't want to stop unless it was absolutely necessarily.
On the way she'd managed to find a cottage for rent via the internet on her phone. One of those places wealthy people spent obscene amounts on by the week for rock climbing and other preppy outdoor activities. It was large and well furnished. It even had an in ground infinity pool. Just her style. The owner had been all but ecstatic to hear she wanted it for a month and would be paying in cash up front.
The sign that read "five miles to Cainville" had been a god send. Just as she passed the worn barely readable sign a red truck peaked over the horizon, the only other vehicle she'd seen on this desolate stretch of highway. As it neared the shitty pickup began to veer into her lane, the idiot driver not even upright or visible. Searching for something. Kristy laid on her horn swerving off the side of the road with the truck just barely missing the back end of her Denali.
"Mother fucker!" she cursed, slamming on the breaks.
Some ignorant hick probably trying to find his chew bottle almost cost her everything she had left. With all the explosive chemicals she had hiding in the back under a tarp it wouldn't have been just a fender bender.
Normally nothing could shake her but Kristy was pissed after she watched the resounding hand gesture make its way out the truck's window in her rear view mirror.
"Oohoho, that cock sucker is gonna get it." she growled, wrenching her door open.
She snatched the Beretta 92FS that was tucked in the back of her shorts and took aim.
Just as she was about to pull the trigger and send that sorry son of a bitch spiraling off the road she realized just how irate she was. Angry enough to compromise herself. Anger. An emotion. She found it strange and comforting all at the same time. She'd become so used to feeling nothing, any emotion outside of the cook room was welcomed. She sighed and let out a long slow calming breath. Setting the gun's hammer back in place along with the safety she stuffed it back in her cutoffs.
'Defiantly not the way to keep a low profile.' she thought to herself as she leaned into the SUV to turn it off.
She took the keys from the ignition along with her pack of smokes from the console and made her way over to a rock away from the car. Safety first, just like Joe had ground into her from day one. She felt almost compelled to thank the dumbass who'd driven her off the road for invoking an emotional response in her. Though it hadn't lasted but a few minutes before the clean cold slate returned. It had been there. Maybe she wasn't as damaged beyond repair as she thought.
Looking around her as she lit up she wondered why the hell the note couldn't have said "Be missin' you always in Miami Florida". She wasn't one to care about scenery but Utah was just plain ugly, nothing but rocks and dirt with a few tuffets of weeds sticking out here and there. She laughed acridly. Ugly girl, ugly place. Perfect.
She tongued the right scar tracing its line inside her mouth from the corner of her lip to the middle of her cheek, moving to the left one next. She hadn't gotten used to the stares yet. They made her skin crawl like she had tweaker bugs. Her scar tissue twitched upwards at the memory of a little boy in the diner she'd stopped at for lunch as she took another drag off her smoke. He'd been staring at her from the booth his family occupied the entire time she waited on her to-go order.
He'd slipped out of the booth and approached her cautiously as she paid for her food. "Are you The Jokers girlfriend?" he asked timidly, taking a small step back when she'd turned to face him.
"Wanna find out?" she replied in a gravely menacing voice as she fake lunged at him, adding a hyena-like cackle just for fun.
The kid all but pissed his pants as he ran back to his mama crying about the scary girl. His mother threw Kristy a scathing look as she wrapped her arms around her son to comfort him.
'Good lady. Keep your son where he belongs before one of the real monsters get him.' she'd thought, knowing all too well they were much worse than movie villains.
Flinging her butt off into a bush Kristy made her way back to the car. After climbing in she let the car idol for a few moments. She basked in the crisp relief of the AC and wondered what exactly she was looking for out here in the badlands on Utah. If her father even was a few miles ahead of her in the town of Cainville how was she supposed to find him? She didn't even have a name to go by. Just an arm. She supposed her only option would be to use the ripped picture of her mother.
'Hello, did you by any chance bang the woman in this picture twenty one years ago? Are you my daddy?' she thought sarcastically as she maneuvered her vehicle back onto the pavement.
Fuckin' rich lil pricks." Mac growled, flipping his middle finger out the window at the black SUV he'd almost crashed into.
Hardly anyone from around there had money for cars like that. Mac hated tourists. Always sticking their noses where they didn't belong. Treating the canyons like their own personal playground. Since the new interstate had been put in ten years ago no one frequented this highway. It made him wonder just who the hell would be coming into Cainville through the back roads.
Once he made it to the cave he threw the truck in park, ripping through the glove box for his salvation. Extracting the straw from the baggie he plunged right in and started snorting. Mac's pupils dilated instantly and relief rushed through him along with a heady serge of adrenaline.
"Fuck yeah that's good!" he hollered, jumping from the cab of the truck.
Hopped up on his favorite white trash poison he'd have the orders caught up in no time.
"There you go Mr. Ravis, that should cover the first month and safety deposit." Kristy assured him sweetly as she handed the elderly gentleman a stack of crisp bills.
He accepted it while eyeing her flawed face wearily.
"Just what brings you out to Cainville all alone Miss Bradley?" he asked, handing the keys over to her.
She hoped he wouldn't be this nosy her entire stay. She didn't want to have to hurt him. But she would.
"I'm searching for my father sir. My mother met him here and I have reason to believe he may still live here." she replied, laying on the little-girl-lost look thick.
"Would you happen to have seen her here before, maybe with someone local?" She asked with an extra dose of false hopefulness, quickly producing the picture of her mother.
"No, I don't recall her." Mr. Ravis replied, squinting down at the picture. "But then again I've only owned this property for five years. I also don't live here, I'm two towns over." he explained, handing it back to her. "I wish you luck in finding him though." he added with a bit more softness to his voice.
"Oh, I almost forgot. The central air unit is busted so I ought to give you a discount on the price." he told her as he handed back a few of the bills.
'Prefect' she thought grimly 'I'm going to evaporate out here.'
After thanking him with an overly cheerful smile she watched as he made his way to his car and down the winding dirt drive that connected to the street.
Once he was out of sight Kristy backed the Denali right up to the front door. Flinging the tarp back she started to unload her supplies, huddling them in the corner of the kitchen. She wouldn't be setting up here. Rule number two, never cook where you live. A rule Joe had been breaking when he'd first taken her in. Tomorrow she would scout out a place to set up. Most likely one of the many caves she had read about when she researched Utah's geography.
She placed the tarp back over it all and went to retrieve the weapons next. Stashing a couple guns and knives in the car just in case, she placed the rest through out the house, memorizing their locations.
By then Kristy was sweating profusely, the cottage was unbearably hot and stuffy from being closed up. She went about opening all the windows before returning for her suitcase full of clothes and duffel bag filled with cash. Pushing the bed aside she began prying at the wooden floorboards to make a hiding spot. Before she lowered the bag she extracted a couple thousand. Spending money.
Once the bed was back in its original place she got to unpacking her clothes and bathroom necessities. Having grown up in poverty the first seven years of her life Kristy found herself inclined towards the finer things. Joe had spoiled her rotten once he was able. Hanging a few of her designer dresses in the closet she made a mental note to get some clothes from the local whatever-mart. For when she needed to blend in and get dirty.
By the time she finished she was exhausted and starving, deciding a local joint she'd passed on the way in would have to do. It was close enough to walk really, but she wanted some AC after all her hard work. Slipping some cash into her wallet she grabbed her keys and headed out.
Walter watched as an unfamiliar black SUV with tinted windows pulled into the lot. Ravis had told him there would be a young lady renting the resort cottage up in the hills. Tourists once in a while vacationed there but they usually only stayed a week at the most. Walter wondered what business this girl could possibly have in town to be staying for a month. If she was going to be a problem he'd have Mac take care of it.
Mac himself had become somewhat of an increasing problem as of late. The drugs were addling his mind, making him sloppy and unreliable. Walter sighed while cleaning another shot glass behind the bar as he watched the new girl approach. From what he could see of her at a distance, Mac would thoroughly enjoy getting rid of her if she was an issue.
Pulling into the dirt lot of the Luna Mesa Kristy eyed it with contempt. It looked like your standard local hole in the wall dive bar. Lovely.
Just inside the door she was hit with an intense sense of déjà vu. Like she'd been looking at the scene in front of her for years. She had. Pulling the now worn and wrinkled photo from her wallet, she lined it up with what was in front of her.
Just as she had the bar behind her mother's body lined up perfectly, an old weathered bartender walked into her line of sight at the edge of the photo where her father was supposed to be.
"Welcome to la Luna Mesa!" Walter called to the girl, who had stopped just inside the door.
She was now holding a piece of paper in front of her face. Her brow was scrunched in concentration, like she was trying to fit the pieces of a puzzle together. She lowered it at his welcome, approaching the bar. As she drew nearer Walter observed the deep angry looking scars on her face, along with many others that riddled her exposed skin.
"What can I get you darling?" he asked, trying not to stare.
She was obviously trouble. Any girl driving a car like that paying thousands in cash for a rental looking the way she did, had to be mixed up in something illegal.
Kristy ignored his unsuccessfully hidden glances at her damage as she perched herself on a bar stool to order a burger and fries, throwing in a beer at last moment's thought. When the bartender asked for some ID she handed it over, surprised they even cared about legal drinking ages out there in the middle of nowhere.
Walter hadn't seen that last name in many years. He looked back at the girl trying to find a resemblance. Long dark hair. Near black eyes. Bradley was a common name. It could easily be a coincidence. Though her first name made him think otherwise.
"Well Krystal you hardly look a day over eighteen. Hold onto that youth, you will need it later in life." he joked as he handed back her license and set a beer in front of her.
"It's Kristy." she corrected him "And thanks, I'll be sure to do that." she said before taking a swig of her beer.
As she watched the old man disappear into the back to put in her order she couldn't shake the feeling that he'd recognized her somehow. He had looked back at her after looking at the license. Studying her features. She looked around the bar, sure it was definitely where the picture had been taken. A small step in the right direction.
"So what brings you to Cainville?" the bartender asked, having returned to his place behind the bar without her noticing while she was busy taking in the sights.
Well here we go. Time to start searching.
"I'm here looking for my father." she replied "I don't know his name, or what he looks like." Kristy continued as she slipped the photo onto the bar. "All I know is that he used to be in this picture. Which appears to have been taken right here in this bar. And he left a message on the back."
Walter leaned over to look at the picture. The blood drained from his face. He quickly had to compose himself lest he give away his rapidly rising heart rate. He definitely knew the woman smiling back at him in that picture. Charlene. He'd never be able to forget that hellcat.
It was true that it was his arm slung around her mother's shoulder. But he wasn't the only one Charlene had ripped out of the photo. On his other side had been Arlene, Mac's mother. And to the left of Arlene, Dave, Charlene's then fiancé had been in it too.
Walter flipped the photo over, reading the message he'd written on the back of the photo shortly before Dave had dragged Charlene out of town. Upon finding out about their affair. Walter felt his blood pressure rising.
"What makes you think the man in that picture was your father?" he asked, trying to play it cool.
"My mother told me as much, before backhanding me into next week" she replied with a crooked grin.
The bartender's behavior hadn't gone unnoticed on her part. He knew something.
"Well I think I might recall her vacationing here a week or two with her fiancé." he offered, avoiding her gaze as he busied himself with cleaning another shot glass. "But that was twenty some years ago, forgive me my memory is a bit hazy." he lied before he excused himself to go check on her food.
Once he returned with her dinner she thought about what the bartender had told her as she ate. It made no sense. A fiancé she'd been vacationing with wouldn't write that. It had to be a local.
Then again what if her mother had been full of shit. Spun out, just trying to shut her kid up. Who knew how many men she'd been sleeping around with then she'd gotten pregnant. It was probably all a wild goose chase.
Either way, whether she found her father or not, she was here now. This small town seemed as good a place as any to set up shop. After finishing off her dinner along with two more beers from Walter she left a fifty on the bar and told him to keep the change.
The bartender had finally introduced himself after bringing her the second beer. "Thanks Walter, I'll be in again soon."
Walter watched Kristy as she sat down on top of a picnic table outside and lit up a cigarette while picking up the phone behind the counter to dial his least favorite son.
Mac was in the middle of mixing up another batch when his phone went off. Whoever it was would have to wait a god damn minute. Probably Walter calling to bitch at him again. Or one of his whores begging for a fuck. He set aside the red phosphorus he was about to pour and ripped his gloves off. Digging in the pocket of his overalls he looked down at the phone's ID 'Spick'.
"Aw fuck what now." he growled to himself as he made his way outside the tunnel to answer it.
"I'm fuckin' cookin' what tha hell do ya want!" Mac snarled into the phone after yanking his mask off.
"Good to know you're finally doing your job." Walter muttered calmly on the other end. "I have something else I need you to do so you better get caught up on the order. There is a new girl in town. She drives a black suv and is renting the resort up on the hill for a month."
Mac was happy to hear there was some new pussy in town. New pussy he'd ran off the road earlier today. If Walter was calling that meant he'd get to have a little fun before killing her and getting rid of the body.
"I know what you're thinking Mac. She's not for you, you're not to touch her! You understand?" Walter snapped at his sexual deviant of a son.
"Tha fuck I cant!" Mac growled back.
He started to pace. Walter never told him he couldn't touch a woman. Never cared if he raped them until they were raw and bleeding. The fact that his father forbade Mac just made him want to even more.
"Wut's so special 'bout this rich lil cunt?" he demanded, furiously gnawing on his bottom lip.
"That's not for you to know. Now listen to me. The next time she leaves I need you to go to her place and get some of her hair from a brush or something. Snoop around and see what you can find out about her." Walter instructed. "And keep your god damn phone on you in case she comes back. I can see the road to her place from behind la Mesa to warn you."
"Yankin' it outta her head'd be easier." Mac retorted angrily as he started picking at a freshly scabbed over sore.
"You touch one hair on her head and it will be your ass Mackenzie. I mean it!" Walter roared.
He'd had enough of Mac's insolence as of late.
"Now get back to work and wait for my call." he ordered before hanging up.
"Sum' bullshit." Mac grumbled to himself as he made his way over to the truck.
He didn't know what Walter was up to, but he knew it couldn't be good if the bitch was off limits.
He might not be allowed to rape her but he sure as hell would cop a feel or two. He grinned a blackened little smile at the thought as he snatched the small baggie off his dash to snort another fix. Hell, he hadn't even seen her yet and he wanted her. Just because she was forbidden territory. He'd get that ass one way or another no matter what Walter said. Made him hard as hell just thinking about it.
