It'd been two days since Krystal up and vanished without a trace but Walter could've cared less because fresh bricks of pink white trash poison kept appearing in the cave. She was still in the area, still cooking. Just out of sight. Like a phantom chemist.
It was on that second day Mac found the first sign that she'd been in the cave besides massive amounts of cigarette butts littering the ground. A sneaker.
Mac sat down on the decrepit mattress, tin full of crank in one hand, shoe in the other. Placing the trainer carefully in his lap he dipped his fingers into the tin, rubbing a liberal amount of strawberry tinted powder on his gums, sucking his fingers clean.
"She aint gone. Aint gone. Still 'ere. Sh' aint gon'." he muttered as he rocked slightly, clutching the physical proof tightly.
In Krystal's absence Mac had fallen hard on his old friend, using the drug to keep him going, allowing him to hunt her night and day without stopping. A tactic that was hindering him more-so than helping. More than once he'd gone chasing after a hallucinated flash of tan scarred skin or raven hair, getting lost in the caves for hours perusing figments of his damaged mind. The imagined sound of her voice echoing off canyon walls sending him on wild goose chases. Pomegranate scented lies making him go running to dead ends.
Mac lifted the tennis shoe to his face, desperate to inhale any real trace of her, even if it was foot funk.
"You are disgusting." came a sneered remark from within the cave.
His eyes snapped open to find her looking down on him, clad in the same black dress she'd been wearing the first time he'd seen her in the Luna Masa. Her expression was one of contempt except she had no ebony eyes to glare at him with, only black empty soul sucking sockets.
"You're never going to find me." she taunted, laughing at him with a gruesome wide mouthed scoff, her Glasgow smile fresh and open, extended to the extreme all the way to her ears.
With a pitiful whine he buried his face in the shoe, willing the tormenting illusion to go away.
"You'll be alone forever." she cooed, hovering over him, getting closer each time he peeked up from the footwear.
The final time he looked to see if she was gone he found her right in front of his face, bloody gaping maw open and ready to devour him. He ran screaming from the cave, precious sneaker tucked under his arm.
On the third morning Devon got a visit from the real deal. She jumped him out of nowhere on his short walk from the motel to the bar to gather breakfast.
"Please don't kill me, please, Regina needs me." he begged as her knife sliced deeper into the vulnerable expanse of his neck when her body twitched.
"Get up s-slowly and take me to Walter." she quietly instructed, backing off only slightly so he could move.
Walter looked up from whiting out a discontinued dish from the menus when the back entrance busted open. He instinctively grabbed for the shotgun resting next to his trusty bat under the bar.
"Dad..don't shoot it's me and Kristy." Devon hollered out, making the old bandito relax until they came into sight.
Devon looked like he was about to shit his pants, something most definitely digging into his back threateningly, a thin line of blood running down his neck from a shallow cut.
Walter's eyes shifted to the girl behind him. She was mostly hidden behind his son. He could see one bare foot and dark wild hair sticking up in all directions. She looked like she'd gone native.
"When the results come in they come to me, unopened. Understand?" she growled, using her free hand to dig her nails into Devon's shoulder, making him whimper pathetically.
"Alright, alright. No need to get crazy here. You could have just told me so without the hostage act." he insisted, inching to the right in an attempt to get a better look at her.
"How am I supposed to find you when they come in?" he asked, giving up when she shifted Devon to counter his movement.
"Leave them at the house." she hissed, shoving his son forward as she disappeared out the back way.
Later that day Mac found another shoe in front of the cabin. It was like she was fucking with him. Leaving articles of clothing to show him he'd missed her again. Checking inside he found nothing moved. Not that he could really tell after the whirl wind of destruction he'd left in his wake that first night.
The next evening Mac found her Denali sitting behind a thorn thicket empty of gas. Another breadcrumb left behind in her mocking trail. He'd taken to leaving food in the cave. He didn't have the skill to make anything more substantial than bologna and mayo sandwiches.
But they were always gone when he came back to check, the plate usually on the ground with scattered remnants of bread and meat thrown around so he could never be sure if it was coyotes or her.
"Bologna again? God damn it." she huffed before snorting another line off the work table.
'Beggars can't be choosers.' the voice in her head reminded her as she drug her tongue along the table to catch the leftover residue.
"He needs to learn how to make something else, bologna is fucking nasty." she snapped at the silent cavern.
'He's doing his best, he cares about you.' it insisted, making Kristy smack herself in the head.
"Shut up shut up shut up!" she screamed, pulling at her knotted hair before starting a new batch.
Cooking always made it quiet.
'Eat the food.' it demanded when she paused to light a cigarette. 'Eat it, eat the food Mac left for you.'
"Don't fucking say his name." she growled, throwing her lighter at nothing, watching as it bounced off the rock wall back at her.
'Mac Mac Mac. Mac. Mac. MAAAAAAC!' it bellowed until she shoved the sandwich in her mouth.
Kristy gagged on the amount of mayo, swallowing her bite whole like a snake, repeating the action until there was nothing left except for the crust.
'What happens if the paper says yes?' it asked as she lay down on the mattress, inhaling a deep lung full of smoke.
"I leave and never come back." she whispered to nothing, smoke trailing out with her sad words.
'What if it says no?' it inquired, shifting around inside her excitedly.
"Then I stay forever." she murmured before taking another drag.
'Krystal and Mac sitting in a tree' it sang, taunting her with the children's rhyme.
"Stop." she bit out, taking another sharp inhale of nicotine.
'K-i-s-s-i-n-g' it continued, forcing Kristy to see images of herself and Mac kissing.
The voice she could tolerate but seeing hallucinations of him killed her.
"Fucking stop it right now!" she shrieked, banging her head back against the rusty springs.
'First comes love then come ma- Aaahhhh!' the voice shrieked along with her as the red ember of her cigarette seeped into her flesh to prevent the image of Mac waiting for her at the alter from solidifying in front of her mind's eye.
Though adrenaline from the meth and pain was shooting through her body she began to feel drowsy, her eyelids drooping while the scent of singed flesh hung in the air.
'He got you good this time!' it snickered gleefully when she glanced over at the sandwich crust.
"Fucking mayonnaise." she sighed as she began trying to get up before she passed out completely.
She made it a good fifty feet crawling on hands and knees before her body succumbed and refused to carry her any further. She rested her cheek in the dirt for a moment before the sound of boots hitting the rocky floor of a tunnel nearby and the echoes of twanged curses made her nearly closed eyes shoot open.
'Heeeee's coming' it taunted while she drug herself further. There was nowhere for her to go. 'He's finally found you'
"Oh put a fucking cork in it already." she whispered, spying a black hole just big enough to fit in.
Using the last bit of strength she had left she hurled herself inside, not caring if she was eaten alive by bats. The old mining ventilation shaft tore her already marred skin asunder, jagged rocks ripping at her flesh as she fell further and further into the welcoming darkness.
It was driving him mad, this grand disappearing act she pulled every time. It being even worse this time since he was so close. She'd left a Bunsen burner running, a lit cigarette still smoking on the ground. She'd just been there. 'So fuckin' close.'
Mac didn't understand how she could have gotten away. He'd mixed enough shit in the mayonnaise to tranquilize a horse. He searched the tunnels and caverns obsessively. Hoping to find her passed out in some nook or cranny. Coming up with nothing.
The fifth day held the same result, nothing. But on the sixth as Mac crept through the tunnel the sounds of movement and mutterings sent evil little twisted butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It was a bit past noon and there were no vehicles outside beside his own to suggest it was Walter or his brother fucking around in the cave. It had to be her.
Peeking around the corner where the rocky wall ended and the cavern began his tweaker heart jumped in his chest at the sight of her buzzing around a work table, consumed with her task. Mac watched as she paused to bend over and snort a line, a small groan coming from her cracked lips making his dick harden in his pants.
He spied dried blood in various places all over her body mingling with smears of dirt and grime that covered her from head to filthy bare foot. Her tee shirt and been ripped in half revealing a cut riddled midriff. The torn material was used to bind a wound on her lower bicep and stop blood flow. Her hair was a snarled greasy mess as well but he wouldn't hesitate to fuck her for a second.
Now that he'd finally found her he was at a loss for what to actually do next. The gleam of a silver handle peeking from the back of her ratty denim shorts along with the sheath to a buck knife hanging off her belt loop kept him from just grabbing her. Watching her a moment longer she turned in his direction to another table, eyes downcast setting her thick lashes to lie against her cheeks.
She was diluting chemicals without a mask, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth right over the volatile liquid at that. She'd definitely gone off the deep end. Every single one of her own rules she was breaking were rattling off in Mac's brain while he watched her work.
Leaning a little further to get a better view of her cleavage as she bent over to pick up a jug of acid he lost his balance, stumbling forward, knocking into a barrel before sprawling out into the open.
There was no utterance of "what the fuck" or even a gasp from her. Just the click of a hammer being pulled back as she took aim at him.
She hesitated a moment, a look of longing coming to her wild dilated eyes as he took a few steps forward. Before they glazed over with insanity and she pulled the trigger twice.
"Bang bang, she shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down"
-Bang Bang (My baby shot me down) by: Nancy Sinatra