Chapter 15 - a Grave Escape

   Wiz used to play chess with me. He was way better at the game than I was, but he did make me a little better in what time he had to spend with me, before… you know. Panic, whether he's himself, or Wiz sent back to me, or even whatever combination of those two things he really is? Plays with me too.

   Panic has I guess the signature moves that Wiz was good at using on me. Most people that have ever played, imagine a sort of… go on, I dare you to take that piece kind of affair. Not usually. At least Wiz rarely did, and Panic as well. No. They had two things they relied on. One, was to come in. Not brute force, either. More of coming in and getting back out. Probing, feeling. Winging it. Then? A check suddenly out of nowhere I hadn't seen coming. I had no choice but to move my king out of check, and they suddenly stung me.

   The other move they used, was really the same move, just without threatening my king and using my required check response to sting me. Wiz called it "the worm". Panic calls it "fatal embrace", and says its actually an old computer term that he deliberately misuses because he needed a name for his signature move. They both do or did it with most usually a knight or sometimes a bishop.

   Out of nowhere, completely unanticipated? There it is. The knight just suddenly plops into a square, and that's it. It threatens two of my pieces. I have to choose which to move away, and I have no choice but to move the higher rated piece off to limit my losses. The knight obviously devours the other threatened piece. Then? As anyone that played even a little knows. The knight just skips and prances off like they can do. Or I get that knight, but I got stung for a good power piece.

   Before that moment? Really not that interesting of a game. That part is exciting, I suppose. But after that moment? Its kind of anti-climactic, really. I've just been stung for a piece, bad. I'm down, I'm now handicapped and disadvantaged. Like a fighter trying to defend himself holding onto a badly cracked rib, its all over but the crying. They both knew what to do. Work my disadvantage. Cool, calm, and professional. Its brutal, its efficient, and its ruthless.

   But, all the fanfare is done. Without a major mistake on their part, they can just harass me and slowly finish me off. Without me pulling some kind of Bobby Fisher move out of my ass, again, that's how it goes. Sorry to say and sad to report? But Bobby Fisher doesn't live up my ass waiting to be taken out for awesome moves. How I wish.

   No, that's it. Panic calls seeing that possibility of doing it? The moment of Teed. Some guy online that used to coach him at chess. Teed, Teedy, Teedpie. When we play? He puts a little piece of paper out. It has what he says is his old chess site "nickname" and has a "T7" after the nickname. His tag line he said is a reprint from years back? "An anodized T7 alloy". All Teedy's "students" were on his "team". They all sported a T7 to show their allegiance. The mysterious part? He didn't know what T7 stood for, to Teedy. In fact, none of the other students did, either.

   So, once the alley shadow took the gambit? It was all over for him and his buddy. Unless they just for some reason came to their senses or morality and decided to let it go? They were done for. The moment of Teed had come and been recognized. The fatal embrace was coming now, sure as the sun will rise each and every day.

   You see, the argument? The gambit. Little Lightning was going to her "memorial" she goes to every year. Junior, had tickets and plans, and was told no. This, was what she does once a year on a certain date. She has a dead friend, and once a year she visits his grave. To pay her respects, to sit all night and talk to him. She was going alone, like she does every year. Her friend "Marcy" would pick her up in the morning, again like Marcy does every year. They both knew him, its their thing.

   Then? The rest is semantics. Its a new phone, so there's little to go through on it. Quite easy, actually, to find "Marcy" and see texts they shared. Marcy forgot the coordinates. She helpfully texted her exact address and GPS coordinates. Other Marcy texts? Commiserating how their dead friend's memorial is coming up.

   The man they were in on killing. The memorial Little Lightning attends, alone every year until Marcy picks her up the next morning? Its Wiz's Arlington grave site. They get to surprise her, alone and at night in an abandoned graveyard. Ambush her, over the very same guy's grave that unwound their dirty town and lives.

   I'm sure they laughed and chuckled at the idea. I know for a fact one isn't laughing, because he's very dead. The other? Very soon will be.

   Little Lightning was of course, the bait. Once the gambit bait was swallowed? We had weeks to prepare. Wiz was killed, not far before his own birthday. The memorial observance? Was on the anniversary of his murder. Another little tidbit I'm sure those assholes laughed at the irony of.

   Naturally we brought Uncle Mike in. He liked it. Trust me, the little patch of woods in that area of the cemetery? Had been scouted with some of JG's camouflaged game cams. Those two assholes were seen scouting the location. The woods there? Really the best and only way to get there, unnoticed.

   Little lightning sat by Wiz's grave. Waiting. She had an earpiece. I was there, armed. Mike was there and so was JG, naturally both armed. Panic was definitely there, he was just unseen.

   Panic enlisted his two best friends, both former Redwater military contractors. The one, is smaller and shorter than Panic is. The other? He's six and a half feet tall. At his height with big bones, just being "normal sized" is honestly quite imposing. Skykid, or just Sky? Is the littler one. He can be very scary, but only in his own way. Its the bigger one, Rob. They call him "Little Robbie" as an obvious joke. He's the truly terrifying one out of the three.

   These guys all hunted and got hunted down around the equator for a number of years when they were younger. You would not want these guys pissed off at you in the woods during the daytime, and let alone at night. Panic himself is scary enough at night time woods games, and Little Robbie? Well, one of his nicknames was "The Ghost".

   Panic can do it and very well, but Rob taught him the game. How to get close to your prey. How to move only when they move, to cover all sound. To be calm and confident, so you don't give your position away with heavy breathing. How to scare and rattle your opponent, and get them moving in a blind panic and drive them to where you prefer them to be. Rob and Panic call it playtime, but its no game.

   That was the two ringers Panic enlisted to help. These guys are closer than brothers, they trust each other beyond anything. Skykid's job? Night vision rifle. Posted nearby. If anything went unplanned? Splatter the brains of whoever was closest to Little Lightning over twenty yards of surrounding grass. Then take the other one out, or come join in the hunt. Even if it goes perfect, there's still the hunt at the end.

   They came up slowly, to surround Little Lightning "alone" sitting at her memorial all night. They came around one in the morning. Chuckling, laughing. After all, they had her.

   Little Lightning of course could hear in her earpiece they couldn't see in the dark, that they were on their way, and how far away they were. They were followed in and were actually surrounded, though they didn't know it.

   Little Lightning actually has a secret, that if you didn't know her from her college sports star days? You'd never know it. When most girls run? Well, the phrase run like a girl, exists for a reason. Very few females, actually run like a man that can do it well. She's one. She wasn't called Little Lightning for nothing. She only ran track in high school, for the workout. She played soccer. She was incredible, because she simply had to be.

   She had to escape the hell she lived in. And that? Was her only ticket out. All through high school, her private life was a lonely hell, but when she played? Well, everyone knew who she was in the high school soccer world. She was Little Lightning, the girl no one could catch, much less stop. A trained dancer for years, she had agility and grace none of the other girls could ever hope to enjoy.

   She was Little Lightning. Also known as Little Miss Two Feet, because both legs and feet were fast and accurate. She was a slick, fast forward and a lethal sharpshooter, especially on thin weird angles no other wing could hope to match. She went on such a goal scoring spree every year in her quad A division? There was a "Lightning storm in the mid-west". She was also known as "the pride of the mid-west".

   She can do things in the pitch dark with a soccer ball, that you wouldn't think a human being should be capable of doing in the daytime. She ran at her high speed, practicing darting around trees, day and night for years. She was driven, to get her scholarship and escape hell.

   While it certainly is about how fast and maneuverable she really is, how much determination and wind she has to boot? Its really not my exact point here. What is the exact point? These two really should know this, and honestly should be counting on it. Anyone else in their shoes, could be forgiven for not knowing this or it slipping their minds. Not them, though. Because its their town she came from. Its her town, that she came out of. Hell, these are some of the guys that actually created her in some fashion. Because without those rapes, and even without the 4 year hell that followed? You don't get a Little Lightning. She remains "Sky", still dancing. She doesn't join track for wind, and go on to her soccer greatness.

   In a perverse moment, I asked Panic. Given research on her, where would you engineer the taking of her. He smiled, but it was one of his infamous death masks. The grin on his unsettling dropped face. His answer? Pretty much anywhere else, any other way. Most people are unsettled to be alone, she spent years like that and preferred it for a long time. Most people are somewhat to very scared of the dark? She preferred it. Most other girls, you could count on catching her easily. Her? Entire university teams were spending all year, plotting how to run her down. And failing. The death mask grinned more, as it asked me for my analysis of what was coming. Teacher, to pupil ready to graduate.

   They either don't play chess, or don't play very well. They want that piece on the board. For them? Its late in the game, and they outnumber her two to one in their minds. That's all they care about. They're completely ignoring board position and board conditions. He tapped his forehead on mine, and held it. His highest thing he can bestow. He quietly explained, what he would do. No pride. Shoot or poison her. Like a deer or a coyote, respectively. But if he needed or even wanted to put his hands on her for some reason? Pen, her, in. Close in from both ends of an alley. I shuddered, suddenly realizing it. Alone in her apartment? Was optimum. The alley shadow had been that close. Her instincts? Were powerful, though. She largely won't use a parking garage. She prefers to walk in the rain, rather than use an underground garage. She prefers to walk ten blocks in the wet snow? Rather than go up beyond the first floor of a regular parking garage. Too many rapes and robberies happen there.

   Panic shook his head. Thank god its amateur hour, was all I could get further on it.

   So, she was sitting there in her soccer spikes. Waiting. And if you can catch her in the woods at night? Well, good luck. The universe chimed in that night, and gave us its blessing. A nice light rain. We played soccer together for seven years, at one of the biggest top ten universities in the tough mid-west conference. She's a hell of a mudder.

   She's 5'11 in her socks, and has even longer legs than a girl her height should have. Her dancing name when younger? Sky Stormer. Szarabjorna Sturmer as a dancer? Was the girl that could get air. She can lean at impossible angles and cut like a rabbit, even in the mud. Her spikes make it even worse. She ran the 100 yard dash in track in high school, and did long jump, triple jump and high jump. Dancer's grace and agility. She had the record of the fastest 100 yard dash on our girls soccer team's history, and I have no idea if anyone ever equaled it or beat her out for that spot.

   So when she bolted and took off, they had no chance. She vaulted right over quite a large gravestone and was off like a shot. They had to take off after her, and had trouble navigating graves and little monuments in the night. They're trying to catch a bolt of lightning in the dark, and she's got soccer spikes on. Worst case scenario. When she runs full tilt? She has the kind of long legs and speed that you normally only get to see on female Olympics runners. Impossibly fast and well oiled machines. She had the jets built in, too. Bursts of speed that make her look like she's floating on air somehow.

   She used to streak up field in a blur and make it sometimes before the cleared ball came down and was on it. She told me later? Once she was running, it wasn't even scary anymore. She had to slow down to let them keep up a little.

   Skykid, waiting nearby ready to spread brains around with night vision if needed, simply dropped his rifle and was off after the two behind her. He's the male version of Little Lightning. Little guy, light frame, long arms and legs and he has the reputation for speed and wind from down at the equator. One of his jobs? Help run guys being chased to ground. They said no one ever got away from him, not once. You tire out, then he has you. He runs you till you drop, then moves in when you can't stand.

   Or he lets them chase him, they called it running the rabbit on the enemy. They get ambushed and taken out, trying to keep up with Skykid moving fast. Little Lightning in front, those two gamely trying and failing to catch her. Getting winded, barely able to keep up. Skykid's bringing up the rear.

   They're already done and don't know it. Panic and Little Robbie are waiting. The Ghost and his apt pupil. Rob taught him to be good at this playtime night woods game, and they work together so well its scary. Yeah, I got to see it. Once.

   I don't know whether it was Little Robbie, The Ghost? Or Panic that got the one guy, but. The alley shadow was no more when it was over. I hope he enjoyed playing the shadow in the alley, so maybe he could appreciate it when someone who was better at that game played it on him. His ribs had been cracked and splintered and sent into his lungs and internal organs. He died bubbling foaming blood out of his mouth, begging for his life. I was told. One stayed to watch him expire, as insurance. I don't know which one. Probably Skykid if I had to guess. The Ghost and his favorite disciple would have been best at getting the last one.

   Once the "chase" started, Mike calmly picked up Skykid's night vision rifle, and me and JG followed Mike to the cruisers, locked unseen in an equipment shed. Mike had the keys to it. The FBI wants to pick up perpetrators at a cemetery run by another federal agency? Not any kind of a problem. We drove out to meet the three boys and their two prey items they had with them.

   Mike had sent JG away, he'd meet him later and let him know it was over. JG didn't ask any questions. Me and Mike watched as they dropped the dead one, the former alley shadow, unceremoniously into his own trunk of his own car. They removed the doughnut spare out of the trunk first. They used a battery powered drill to run a screw into then back out of, one front tire and one opposing rear tire.

   Mike stood back while the work went quick, and turned around. Technically, he didn't see anything. The one still alive? Had a needle in his arm. Panic asked me quietly, if I would like to do "the honors". I pushed the plunger home. He was already unconscious. He was just more unconscious now, I figured. Panic fixed up the syringe again, and inserted it one more time, and left what was in it there. They put him behind the wheel, out cold with the syringe in his arm.

   Then? Mike dropped me, Little Robbie, Skykid, and Panic off at their vehicle, and we left Mike alone and set off. I know what Mike did. He went a short distance away, and called the state police. A routine pick up of what was supposed to be one perpetrator lured in to a grab site, caught in the act? Had escaped. And he had an accomplice unexpectedly with him. JG would by now have teamed back up with him.

   The basic story? Easy. A parolee from an old case he had once overseen, had been released from state prison. He kept tabs on him, and he was found to be hunting and stalking the former crime victim in that case. He had been lured out to the graveyard, where him and JG could pick him up, with no risk to any bystanders.

   He unexpectedly showed up with an accomplice, and they got away in the confusion. He had the car GPS tagged, would the state police terribly mind fanning out, and following a dot on a map to pick these two assholes that got away, up? Hey. Its what the state police do, and with a live dot on a map to follow? Too easy.

   They quickly located some guy behind the wheel of a car, passed out with a needle in his arm. They found a dead guy in the trunk. A glass bottle next to the body in the trunk, with the driver's prints and DNA on it. He came to handcuffed in a state police barracks holding cell, awaiting transportation to the state prison he had recently been released early on parole from.

   He violated the ever loving shit out of his parole terms, six ways from Sunday. His PO papered his ass immediately back into the state pen for ostensibly the remainder of his original sentence. He'd get paroled again in a year or two, except there were other matters to deal with now.

   There was the murder charge, because of the dead guy found in his trunk. Dead guy's blood? All over his hands. His prints and DNA on that glass bottle in the trunk, right next to the dead body. Prints all over the trunk lid and interior and exterior of the car itself. Fleeing or eluding officers. Drug charges. Mike said he left out stalking and other related charges, simply because he didn't want to disrupt the crime victim's life any more than was necessary.

   All those two had to do? Get out of prison, and go about their lives. They didn't even have to repent and become model citizens. Just… stay away from us. I wanted the one dead right up front, out of simple selfish revenge. It quickly became apparent, that thank god I did because of what they were up to. It was originally going to be professional to take that first one out. You know, get it over with. Quick. Possibly painless, and maybe even he didn't know anything was coming.

   But once they came and were stalking Little Lightning? They signed their own death warrants and guaranteed themselves an unpleasant end. The one in the alley, the one I nicknamed alley shadow. While his death was not pleasant, it wasn't a sliver of what it well could have been. Panic saved his main wrath for the head of the snake. The one responsible.

   I was sitting against him on our own couch, relaxing back at home.

   "So. Are you happy, honey."

   "Hmm. You know I can't really feel actual happiness, but. Do I know and sense that I should feel fulfilled and therefore know, logically, that I should be happy? Then, in that sense. Yes, I'm what I call my own kind of happy. That way. And thank you."

   "Its fine. My gift."

   "Well. You certainly know how to spoil a girl, you know that? I'm at risk of becoming a spoiled cunt now. Not that I care, just curious how much this all cost."

   "Oh, that. Um. Operation: Spoiled Cunt? Was a little pricey, but… I think well worth it. I wanna say, all told? Honestly, leasing the old factory for two months, wasn't that much. It cost more than that, to rent that nice trailer for the director and the actress to stay in, really. The big ticket item to all that, was naturally the director's scale pay, and the actress's scale pay. Plus? They wanted more hours on their union records, instead of the overtime. So? I gave them both. They got the extra days they wanted, and… I figured out their overtime, added it together? And split it for their bonus I gave them. Maybe… not quite twenty grand, all added up, I don't think."

   "I know you did something nice for Little Robbie and Skykid. Skykid was doing his… frog hop dance, and doing that jig him and Robbie do when they win something."

   "Yes. I know its hard to tell when they're happy, but, as a professionally trained therapist? You can detect these hard to spot body language signals."

   "Hmm. What did you get them. If you can tell me."

   "Oh. They wouldn't take money, but, a gift from one friend to another? Sure."

   "Afraid to ask."

   "Nothing illegal. First off, Little Robbie demanded he got to keep his vest and Ghillie suit. I mean, last time I bought him cool toys like that for something? He about cried when we had to burn it, you know."

   "Like that's an expensive gift."

   "The Ghillie suit is cheap, but that stage whatever vest with top of the line trauma plate? Well, him and Sky both got to keep their Ghillie's and vests. Then? As a little bonus…"

   "Oh, here we go. What was the little bonus."

   "Well. I do own a gun shop. I get things at cost. Not illegal with paperwork, for me to buy a friend something. I… bought them both what I can best describe, as obscenely expensive and desirable custom target rifles. Then, just like you can't get a necklace without earrings? Well. I added scopes and mounts that were… the cost? Was quite… lets say profane."

   "Hence, the jig and the frog hop."

   "I would say, yeah."

   "And Elise?"

   "Elise. She wouldn't take anything. She says your ex? Wiz. Was her best friend, and she was happy just to help. I, uh… figured out what I spent on Robbie and Skykid? And… I kind of sneaked an envelope with cash into it, into her purse. I mean, I know exactly what to buy Skykid and Little Robbie to put a big smile on their face. Elise? She'll have to pick her own present out."

   "And Junior? I know he was just doing his job, and he has his own good paycheck and all, but…"

   "I kind of made a stockholder's decision with him, and… I didn't tell you yet. Until now."

   "Well?"

   "Little Lightning's computer workstations, and the storage server that feeds it? Would cost a lot to have that done to get her business started. Its the main expense. He made that cheap. He donated old server equipment and used hard drives the tech lab had no use for, to do that. Not to mention? Installing, maintaining, then stopping in to service her setup regularly? It would cost a mint to get that on the open market. He barely takes gas money for it. I feel bad."

   "Can I tell you a secret?"

   "We have so many. What's one more."

   "He likes Little Lightning. I'm pretty sure, he doesn't mind stopping by all the time, just to check on her computer setup? Well, he just likes seeing her. Having dinner with her."

   "Really?"

   "Duh. Are you mad?"

   "No."

   "If… Light ended up liking him back that way, you wouldn't…"

   "JG? No. Never. He's… like a little brother to me."

   "Well? Maybe you don't realize it, but. You scared him. Once a couple years ago? Now, twice."

   "And how's that. Like I ever once threatened the guy. Be serious."

   "Remember when Little Lightning first arrived? You know. That drunk guy at the range camping, put his hand on her ass. She kicked him in the sack and started kicking him to get him."

   He chuckled.

   "I remember. She told him twice to quit touching her ass. He got what he deserved. He's lucky I didn't smack him around for that trick. Everyone knew, Light was to be treated just like you are. Hands off."

   "Don't you remember, the little… demonstration you and Little Robbie put on later that night?"

   "Aw. We had a little kickboxing workout. So guys know not to get themselves into trouble like that, drinking around the fire at night."

   "Mm hmm. And what did you and Robbie do after that. Remember the two by four frames you guys were breaking with your hands? Showing how you send the ribs into the lungs."

   "Yeah. Robbie did one, I did one. Then he did two, and I did two. So? Just like the workout, just a little reminder I'm not to be taken lightly."

   "Well. You don't think Junior is a little… nervous to so much as look at Little Lightning the wrong way? Hmm? Use your head, honey."

   "Oh. I… honestly never thought about it that way. That… wasn't directed at him. That, was mainly for the benefit of the guy that got drunk and was patting Lightning on the ass."

   "Well, think about it. So. What did you give JG, anyways."

   "I signed over ten percent of the cutting house to him. Hell, he's worth that just for servicing her computers so much. The plan all along always was, to slowly give it to her anyways. He's a computer god, he's perfect as her junior partner."

   "Wow. That was nice, even for you."

   "Thank you. And, the lab I set that tech up with?"

   "The gas… chromatic… thing."

   "Yeah. The expensive, used gas chromatography rig and the tech got to own a big percentage of his own lab. Because his lab work nailed the two skanks that tried to poison you. Its in the black, and we'll be able to afford payments on a new rig before that used one runs out of certification."

   "What about the lab."

   "I'll get back to that, before we're done. Remind me if it slips my mind. But… when's the second time I scared JG."

   "Panic? Mike sent him away, but… JG's a lot of things, and retarded isn't one of them. He knows or suspects? Someone sent that guy's ribs into his lungs and he got tossed into that trunk."

   "That… could have been anyone. Even? The guy that got charged with his murder."

   "Someone threatened Little Lightning, your other girlfriend? And the guy hiding in the alley, was found with his ribs through his lungs. I'm pretty sure, JG is scared to sit too close to poor Light."

   "I just made him a ten percent partner to her business. I'm pushing them to spend time together."

   "We talked about this. Did… you have the talk with Light about… stuff? The last time you went and stayed there."

   "Yes. I explained it to her."

   "And what exactly did you explain to her. Humor me."

   "I told her. We both love her, and things are fine. But, if she ever did want to have her own relationship? Its no harm no foul. You've been beating my ear, you think she likes JG…"

   "I know she does. And… him helping protect her, pretending to be her boyfriend… she liked that, too. I know her, I could tell. And. Did you notice what she did when it first wrapped up?"

   "Yeah. She bought him that… old console game he played as a kid. I don't know where she found one new in the box, but… he loves it."

   "Yeah. Did you ever notice how his face lit up, when he found out me and Light used to play video games in college? With Wiz's computer friends."

   "I guess."

   "JG was a gamer. I happen to know, that gamer guys? A girl that actually plays video games, not just to get boyfriends and get attention, but just likes it? They call them… unicorns. As in, you heard they exist, but good luck finding one to set eyes on, let alone one for your own. He not only likes looking at her? She's his gamer girl unicorn. Not to mention? He's impressed she has her own… computer video editing business. That's up his alley."

   "Hmm. I suppose those long dancer's legs don't hurt any."

   "It can't hurt. Now. What did you tell Light, what we talked about."

   "I told her, if she ever wants her own relationship? We're both okay with it, its fine. I told her if she wants to do it? Just… go slow, and make sure. I don't want her… pin-balling. Back and forth. Between us, and the guy. Take your time, go slow, make sure. And that me and you were behind her a hundred percent, no matter which way she went."

   "Okay. And if she ever brings it up with me? You, mister. Are going to have a friendly talk with both of them at the same time, how happy you are for the two of them. Isn't that right."

   "Oh. Sure. I mean, I was just about to ask permission, to do just that."

   "Smart ass. Oh. What about the lab, you said to remind you."

   "I'll get to that. Now. You know one of us killed the alley asshole."

   "Sure."

   "I was wondering, what you thought about leaving the other one alive. To rot in state prison, where his ass belongs anyways."

   "Oh, that. You did make a joke late one night, in Lightning's little bathtub with me. How killing was too good for him. I guess, dying in prison is okay."

   "You do realize, he'll never make it out of prison, alive."

   "Oh. Sure. He gets two years right off the bat, just for parole violations. Mike said, the day he's free on that? They're going to re-arrest him, the instant he gets processed out and sets foot outside."

   "Nice. But…"

   "Well? Murder, and a bunch of other charges. Its not like he'll be found not guilty, hard to see that one. DNA found in the trunk with the body. Her stolen new phone? Reported to her local police… found in the glove box."

   "Oh. Rest assured, little one. He dies in prison. Probably? Before he even gets done with his two years. Even if? Not long after."

   "What do you mean."

   "He's already a dead man. He doesn't know it yet? Its coming."

   "How."

   "He's going to die? A very slow, long, painful death. His last year? Will be… honestly. Screaming agony. Since he's in prison, he won't even be able to kill himself to get out of the misery coming. No hospice care for state prison inmates. They'll just handcuff him to a hospital cart, and let him go. I promise you. He'll bleed from every orifice of his body. His skin and meat will literally rot off his own bones, and he'll have to watch it happen slowly. Him, and the people caring for him? Will puke at the smell of his rotting carcass. While he's still alive. Its a fate worse than death. Trust me on this one."

   "What… did you do to him."

   "Oh. I didn't. You did. You? Killed him."

   "When."

   "When I gave you the honor? Of pushing the plunger on that syringe I stuck in his vein. He was a dead man, the instant you pushed."

   "It was just… heroin. Incapacitate him. Another charge to be found with drugs…"

   "Oh. It was that too, trust me here. But… it had a little something extra."

   "Really."

   "Definitely. I knew I had to come up with something, just, really special for him. Remember. This is the guy who's probably more responsible for your ex's death? Than the guy that shot him. That, was an unpaid karma tab. Racking up interest. Then. Being responsible for sending the alley asshole? After my Little Lightning? Oh. Unforgivable. That's another bad karma tab, and more interest. No. I wanted to make sure he really suffers. And? Being in state prison, well… that guarantees the worst and most minimal end of life care, for terminal cancer. And, guarantees he can't kill himself to get out of it."

   "How, could you possibly…"

   "Oh. Back to the lab? You might remember, I said I was going to do some research. Look into something. Well? I did. You see, in the triangle, where the lab is? There's a whole conglomeration of labs, from big to little there. And. One of those little labs? Is a radiology lab. One of the functions they serve? Is they'll X-ray a sample. If you want to see inside something. Its closed on the weekends, by the way."

   "All right. Not seeing how---"

   "Well. I simply arranged a friendly little meeting. One lab to another, not hard. I wanted to get some weekend time at the radiology lab. I wanted to, X-ray some of my own samples. Now. The X-ray source? Is an X-ray tube. It burns out, like a light bulb, basically. They're expensive. But, if you order one and pay for delivery of a brand new tube? Well. Why not let me pay a fee for a couple weekends, playing with my own samples. Lab owner to lab owner? Not hard."

   "How did this---"

   "Getting to that. I wasn't doing X-ray on my own samples, for X-ray photography. That was just my cover. I got a quantity of Iodine. A special compound of Iodine, actually. Its in a metallic salt. A lead salt Iodine compound, really. Now. Lead has a funny property. It absorbs gamma radiation, like nobody's business. Its why lead is used as the shielding, to stop X-rays. Its gamma radiation. Now, the lead actually can only absorb so many Roentgens, so often, before its all filled up, basically. Becomes radioactive. You actually have to replace the lead shielding in any radiology lab periodically. Cost of doing business."

   "Continue. Science boy, is simply fascinating science girl, I'll have you know."

   "Great. Now, Iodine, has its own property. In fact, Iodine treats low level radiation poisoning. It actually attracts it out of the body, at low doses. That's why one of the first radiation poisoning symptoms, shows up as thyroid cancer. That's where the body collects up Iodine. Its why if you don't get any Iodine in your diet? You get goiter. Neck swells up. Also, Iodine itself fills up on gamma radiation like a motherfucker. And? Lead salt Iodine as a compound? Does it way worse, than either one alone."

   "You…"

   "I made my own radiation poisoning, basically. Ingested? It would be enough to give him cancer and kill him. But? You shot it directly into his vein, so. Its a nice little dose of lead poisoning. Makes him sick, but he'll live. But, all that highly radioactive lead salt Iodine compound. Collects in the thyroid, and in that great a quantity, without being filtered through the digestive system? Wow."

   "Holy shit."

   "Actually? His shits would show up on a Geiger counter, if anyone ever checked. His body will click a Geiger counter, too. The thyroid cancer will go off first. The thyroid bone, is connected to the lymph node system bone, and… as we all know, and as any Oncology lab can tell you as cancer 101 material… when cancer hits your lymph system? Your number's up. It spreads through your whole body like wildfire."

   "Is there more?"

   "There's two kinds of cancer. Hodgkin's and non-Hodgkin's. Hodgkin's is the worst. No curing it. He'll get many kinds, all at once, one after the other. All fast and aggressive. Induced Leukemia, too. The pain of late stage cancer? Is so great that even Morphine can't touch it. It barely helps. They're gonna just scratch their heads, how he got so many forms of fast and aggressive cancer, all at once like that. I promise you, he'll die slow and painful, in such screaming agony? You can't even imagine. In prison? Pffft. Can't even commit suicide to end it."

   "Wow. And I thought everyone else got presents and bonuses, but me. I mean, you shouldn't have. Its almost, a bit much."

   "I guess Uncle Mike never told you, then."

   "What."

   "What was found in the car. They had a little… fun kit with them."

   "I'm afraid to ask."

   "A bag was found, in the corner of the trunk. It contained, and brace yourself."

   "Go on."

   "Rope. Handcuffs. A couple knives. Rubber shaft tourniquets, of all things. A small blow torch, with extra butane fuel. And a shovel."

   "Oh sweet Jesus."

   "Yeah. They were going to carve Little Lightning up, like a Thanksgiving turkey. Use the blowtorch on her. The extra butane? So they didn't run out. Having a little party."

   "What… are the rubber tourniquets for?"

   "Keeps them from bleeding out too quick. You know. To extend the fun. You can also cauterize things, after you cut them off, keep them alive longer."

   "Holy mother of all that's---"

   "Yeah. So, don't ever feel bad. Not for one second. Coming to kill her, was one thing. But… that? Payback's are a bitch."

   "Well. At least its all over."

   "Almost all of it, yeah."

   "What's left."

   "You don't want to gloat? Just a little."

   "How."

   He handed me a large, thick book. The collected works of William Shakespeare. He said to open the cover. On the inside? Was an inscription, handwritten but in block letters.

   "Hi. You had me shot and killed. The bullet went through my fiancee's shoulder. We were in love. I just wanted you to know? That I came back from the grave, to take my revenge. Please turn to chapter 14, page 88. The passage I highlighted? Has given me great solace and comfort. May it help you, as it did me."

   It was signed… "best wishes, see you real soon."

   Then? Finished off with Wiz's real name.

   Every "book" in the collection? The pages restarted from page one, with each new one. Chapter 14, page 88? I turned to it. A short passage had been highlighted for him to read. Quotes from different Shakespeare plays had been assembled. For an essay titled, and quite appropriately I might add. "Shakespearean Revenge".

   "Therefore? You. Clown. Abandons the society of this female. I kill thee. I will deal in poison with thee. I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways."

   There was also a piece of paper folded once as an unseen book marker, until you hit the chapter and page indicated. One side, on its own half? Had an image of a playing card. Four of clubs. And the other side, next to it…

   An image I had seen once before. A long time ago. It was made from an old picture of Little Lightning. Back when she was still young, and innocent. From right before… the monsters claimed her, and turned her inside out and her life into 4 years of hell before she could escape. It was from some old junior high yearbook. The inscription below the snapshot came from that old yearbook as well.

   My god, he really was Wiz reincarnated. I know The Wizard, had once found a monster alone in a dark parking lot. When he was finally found the next morning, barely alive? They thought he had been run over by a truck. He had to learn to walk again.

   A photograph of a woman had been left on him. Just so everyone, and especially the monster himself? Would know what it had been for.

   Szarabjorna Sturmer

   -------------------

   Age: 14

   Hobbies: Dancing, Roller Skating, Ice Skating

   Nickname: the "Sky" Stormer

   Favorite Movie: Wizard of Oz

   Future plans: Professional Dancing

   Favorite food: Ice Cream

   I carefully folded up the paper as it had been, one neat perfectly squared fold-over. I made sure it was tight into the spine of the page it was on, as I had found it. I closed it and handed it back.

   I can't cry, but I definitely sense the urge for it. I got another of those headlight beam passes over my dark house. That flash of real emotion, that dissipates and dispels. A couple seconds of life? Then back to my normal state, whatever that even is.

   Panic indulges me, in my… belief or self delusion. That he's in whole or in part, a reincarnation of my Wizzy come back or sent back to me. What other man would do that for me? None, I would think. No matter who or what, that he is or isn't… he's definitely and without a doubt been crafted by the universe just for me, and me alone.

   I'm just a little too tall, and a little too strong for a girl. He loves me more for it. A lot of guys hate smart girls. He loves me for that. Most guys hate girls that want to be strong and lead a relationship. He loves that, too.

   Then, there's the matter of my having been traumatized into a state of being, for all intents and purposes? A healthy sociopath. A person who has to wear masks, to hide the monster's face from the world that would give me fear and loathing for it.

   He loves that about me, too. He'll never have any emotion show on his face and he feels the entire range of human emotions, I know. But, no emotion on his face, ever. No real ones. He has to wear masks he made for himself too. So he can fit in. He even crafted his own body language, so he can show an emotion that way.

   I felt that stab of real emotion, just the fleeting gut stab. When that actress realized finally that there's something different about him, and insisted she had to use JG as the actor. She even said, I don't know what's wrong with him. Now, this other guy? He's a normal guy.

   I can feel more little… headlight beams, little stabs now. What the… maybe I'm sick, coming down with something. I said thank you, kissed him a couple times, and said I just wanted to get some sleep. I maybe didn't feel good.