The Devil Next Door

A little nothing shit, an outsider dwelling in a world of fantasy. He didn’t try out for sports, volunteer for any of the clubs. He did absolutely nothing and like any kid that did not fit in, he took the standard ration of shit. Shore had disciplined kids like Tommy Sidel-another 5 ^ th hour Biolab monster-for picking on Billy, for shoving him in the halls or punching him in gym class or tripping him up outside. Yeah, yeah, yeah. It had fallen on Shore as it always fucking fell on Shore. But right then? Had he been able to go back, he would have picked on that little shitting mama’s boy himself. Knocked his ass to the floor and kicked his fucking Star Trek paperbacks away, wiped his ass with them.

Kind of shit was that for a growing boy to be reading anyhow?

Feeling it rising in him, the anger, the rage, the frustration, Shore slammed on the brakes about ten feet from Billy. He hopped out. “Billy! Get your ass over here, I want to talk with you! You hear me?”

Billy just looked at him, his eyes dead and flat and somehow defiant.

Shore did not like how the kid looked at him, because not only was there defiance there, but an absolute lack of fear. Shore did not like that in the least. Billy should have been cowering, hanging his head, but he was not. He was glaring. Shore glared right back at him, his lips peeling back from his teeth. It occurred to him that they were facing off like two dogs disputing territory, which had the right to piss on a given tree. But he dismissed that, for suddenly things like metaphors made no sense to him.

“Billy…” he said.

The kid just smiled.

Smiled and spit at his feet, made sure Shore watched him do it, too. Why, the defiant little shit. He had no idea what he was stepping in this time. Benny Shore did not take crap from losers like Billy Swanson. He stepped on them. He crushed them. And Billy was about to find out all about that.

But Billy had no interest.

He turned and walked off at a very leisurely pace, again indicating no fear.

Shore reddened, fumed. “Billeeeee…”

He thought he heard the kid laugh, was almost sure of it.

Billy was now moving off at a casual jog, the sort of jog that said, you couldn’t catch me anyway, you stupid fuck.

So that was the game he wanted to play? All right, all right.

Shore jumped behind the wheel of the Jeep and threw it in drive.

He squealed out and rocketed right at Billy Swanson. Although he was not aware of it, something had finally and ultimately burst in his head like a sore, filling his mind with pus and diseased drainage. All he knew is that Billy Swanson had really stepped in it this time. Really and truly. He accelerated, gripping the wheel and the very act felt so good, so liberating, so very right. The Jeep came speeding up behind Billy at almost forty miles an hour and the stupid kid just didn’t have the sense to get out of the way. He tried to dart to the left at the last possible moment, but no dice. Shore struck him and the impact tossed him up onto the hood. He rolled off and tumbled into the parking lot.

Shore squealed to a stop and spun the Jeep around.

Billy got up.

He was young and the impact had hurt him, but he was hardly down for the count. He glared at Shore with wild eyes and then limped off like a wounded animal. But Shore wasn’t having that. He gunned the Jeep and swung the wheel when Billy hobbled up over the curb. He almost got away, but then the Jeep hit him again and Shore cackled. Billy was thrown face down and the Jeep rolled right over him.

In the rearview, Shore saw him back there, broken and bleeding. But still no fear. Billy was scowling and snapping his teeth. Shore threw the Jeep in reverse and rolled over him again. This time he clearly heard the sound of bones snapping. It was a good sound, one that Shore had wanted desperately to hear.

But it wasn’t enough.

So he drove over Billy again.

And again.

And again…

28

Ray Hansel was just leaving Bob Moreland’s office at the Greenlawn Police Station when he saw the woman coming up the stairs. Under ordinary circumstances, he probably wouldn’t have paid much attention. It was a police station, after all, and people tended to come and go at such places. Particularly today where there was a constant stream of visitors…some were out of their heads and went straight to lock up; most were just normal, or nearly, normal and scared and worried. They came in to report assaults and arson and even a few murders, but mostly it was just to report missing family and friends or neighbors that were just acting a bit off.

But the woman Hansel saw was not one of them.