Phew! The next chapter is done at last! Now I'm sorry to say that while the last chapter was dark, this one is, well, moreso. I can't help it. Pacey's completely off his rocker and I'm having a hard time controlling him. So, I'm warning you now, violent content is upped in this chapter.
Only one or two chapters after this one! I hope you like it. As always, nothing belongs to me. I just borrow the characters and torture them a bit!
Chapter Nine: Endgame
In the end, Pacey was convinced that Doc had been telling him the truth.
There was nothing more that the man was able to hide from him. His face spoke of perfect honesty. There was no truth like what pain could bring.
Pacey knew that better than anyone.
"I think we're done here Doc," Pacey said slowly.
He watched as a look of relief flitted over the other man's face.
And he smiled, cold… unrelenting.
"I think it's time to say goodbye."
And with those words, the relief disappeared, replaced by what could only be described as fear.
"Are you afraid?" Pacey asked, an almost amused tone in his voice. "Afraid to face your judgment with such stains on your soul? Can't say I blame you."
"Pacey…" Doc croaked softly, his voice broken from the screams he had been unable to contain.
It was the first time the man had ever called Pacey by his name.
"Don't bother," Pacey said bluntly. "There's nothing that you can possibly say. Nothing." He removed the long fishing knife from the leather sheath on his belt. "Not to worry Doc. This will probably be the least painful thing that you'll have experienced today."
"No!" Doc exclaimed, as Pacey made his way around to the back of the man's chair. "Please Pacey! Please! I'll…"
He had no chance to finish his sentence as the blade of Pacey's knife slipped across the tender flesh of his throat, cutting it clear to the bone of his spine.
The last sound he made was nothing more than a gurgle.
And as the man who had brought him so much pain expired, Pacey felt nothing but relief.
"Not the most inspiring of last words," Pacey said coldly. He turned to his other prisoner, ignoring the horrified expression locked on the man's boyish face.
"Time to go, Bobby."
He dragged the other man from the room, unwilling, or unable, to process what he'd just done.
He had come here with a mission.
With that mission complete, he had destroyed the man who had brought so many people pain.
It was simple and, to his mind, justified.
He swung Bobby into the back of the jeep, worrying little about the small gasp of pain the man released. He reached into his trunk and pulled out the little bag that contained the sedatives he'd been using to control the other man. Without a word he drew up the amount he needed and injected it into Bobby's leg.
He wasn't in the mood for conversation.
Or pleading.
He had work to do.
He covered Bobby carefully, in the same manner as before and then returned to the house, a new bag of goodies in his hands.
He placed the charges in strategic places and set the timer for fifteen minutes. He then doused much of the house with gasoline he'd found in the garage.
Enough to insure that his fiery cleansing was complete.
Knowing the he had little time left; he hurried back to the jeep and escaped into the night…
And all he left behind was a box in the driveway. A box which documented the life of a person few would mourn.
Twenty-Four Hours Later, Maine Woods…
Pacey had found the commune without much trouble. It helped to have such a cooperative guide.
Bobby had led him to the end of his journey, now all he had to do was take the final steps.
He spent a good deal of time checking the place out before he made his first move. It help that he was very familiar with the way Mama Sal worked. Two men guarding the road in. Two more patrolling the grounds near the compound. Three or four more scattered around the buildings.
His observation of the compound told him that she was running this operation with a skeleton crew. He wasn't sure if it was due to necessity or if she was holding off calling in the troops until it was closer to the deadline… and when it came down to it, the why didn't matter. He was going to take full advantage of her oversight.
The two men guarding the road were simple to outmaneuver. They weren't expecting any trouble. Pacey just slipped around behind them, taking them by surprise. A homemade silencer insured that the gunshots weren't heard. He then dragged them into the woods, insuring that their bodies wouldn't be found until it was too late.
The other guards were more of a challenge, but he managed to pick them off one by one, not giving any of the men the chance to sound the alarm.
Once he was sure that there was no one left to interfere, he approached the main building of the compound. He took up position quite a distance from the two large windows that looked into the living room. Once settled, he set aside his rifle and took out his binoculars.
And there she was.
Standing in the middle of the room, talking to her son Larry.
Watching her, Pacey was no longer able to keep control of his emotions. His breath began coming in shallow gasps, his hands shaking with rage.
As he felt his control slip, he lowered the binoculars and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to give his hatred free reign. He may have gotten by her men, but he was now faced with the two most dangerous people in the compound.
It was time to tell Mama who was really in control of the game.
Pacey took another deep calming breath and set up his rifle, ensuring that there was nothing in his line of sight. Once sure that it was in the proper position, he reached into his pocket and pulled out Bobby's cellphone.
He quickly found Sally's number in the memory and dialed. As the phone started to ring he looked through the rifle sight and aimed at Sally and Larry alternately, keeping a close eye on both.
He watched as she heard the phone ring and picked up the portable from the table in front of her. He watched as she hit the talk button and put the phone to her ear.
And then he heard her voice.
"Bobby? That you?"
"Sorry to disappoint, Mama," Pacey said softly, his voice tight. "It's just me."
In The Compound
Sally Anderson recognized the voice immediately. How could she not? She'd heard it every day for six years. She'd listened to it change as the boy became a man…
And yet she'd never heard it sound quite like it did this night.
"Well, well," Sally said, resisting the urge to demand just how he'd gotten this number. There would be time to discover that later. "If it isn't my Sonny Boy. How's the hunt going?"
"Better than expected," Pacey said mildly.
"Oh really?" Sally said. She glanced over at Larry, who was watching her with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. Neither of them was quite sure what to make of this call.
"Sure," Pacey said. "Though the tails you have following me are a bit distracting."
Sally relaxed slightly. So that's what this was about. He'd found Bobby. Nothing to worry about there. She'd ensured that the boy didn't have enough information to reveal them, even under torture.
"Now Sonny, you knew that I had to have someone watching you. Otherwise, how could I be sure that you were playing by the rules?"
"Oh, I understand that," Pacey said. "Though Bobby wasn't quite as well informed as I had hoped."
Mama smiled over at Larry. "Of course not," she said. "What would be the fun of the game if you could torture my location out of one of your guards?"
"Smart move," Pacey said, his voice still holding no hint of all of the emotions he had to have been feeling.
"I thought so," Mama said. "Now what are you calling about, boy? I thought you'd be concentrating on the game. You only have a little over a week left. Your girl is running out of time."
"Actually Mama, that's why I'm calling. You see, I'm a little ahead of schedule."
A pause.
"Your schedule anyway."
For the first time since she had begun the game Sally felt the slightest tingle of uncertainty slide through her.
It wasn't possible, was it? He couldn't have…
"See, Bobby, he didn't know where you were. Didn't have the slightest idea. But imagine my pleasure when I discovered that he wasn't completely useless."
Not useless? What had that little idiot revealed?
"No, he didn't know where you were, but Doc…" Mama was unable to stop a small gasp from leaving her lips at the name. "Yes, Doc knew exactly where you were. He didn't enjoy our session too much, I'm sorry to say… But I did. Hot needles are a lot more fun when you're the one using them, wouldn't you say?"
"What did you do?" Sally demanded.
At this question, Pacey's voice went completely cold. "Killed him, of course. I made up my own game, you see. My own rules. It works a lot better for me that way. You understand, don't you Mama?"
The uncertainty grew, becoming nervousness…
She switched the phone to her left hand, reaching out slowly with her right…
Reaching for the gun on the table beside her…
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
It was a simple sentence.
Matter-of-fact.
And with it came the panic.
She stopped her hand in its quest for the comforting weight of her gun and looked around with trepidation.
He was here.
Somewhere…
Who was it that she had been playing this game with?
How was it possible that even she, the power behind the process, had no idea what she had created?
"You won't see me. I learned a lot in the time that I was with you and more since. You should be proud."
Yes.
Yes, she should be.
The mocking tone…
The sadistic glee in the words…
Yes, that was something that she could be proud of.
"Did you honestly think that I would just follow your little clues all the way to the end like a good little boy? Did you think I would be too distraught to think? I know better than anyone how you work, Mama. You shouldn't have forgotten that."
It was apparent to her now that she had been naïve.
She had been naïve!
"You know Mama, I wanted to kill you face to face. I wanted to wrap my hands around your throat and choke the life out of you. I wanted to see your eyes as you died… But you know what? This will work just as well."
The pain was sudden and shocking.
She looked down in shock at the crimson stain spreading slowly across her chest.
There was a hole…
Such a small hole.
She dropped to her knees, a strange, puzzled expression on her face.
It was like the world had slipped into another speed. Slowly, so very slowly, she looked over at her son, her wonderful boy.
Her life.
Her purpose…
Just in time to see his head explode in terrible shades of red and gray…
And felt an anguish unlike any she had known before, the bullet in her chest a distant pang.
How…?
How had Pacey done this?
How had he won?
And her last thought as darkness claimed her, was that he hadn't.
Not really.
In the end, she had.
The real tragedy was that she wouldn't be around to enjoy it.