JASON STARR - Panic Attack

Adam had been so absorbed with Xan’s threatening Marissa that it hadn’t registered that he was talking to the man who’d killed his wife. Why the hell had he done it? Just for revenge? For fun? And why did he start dating Marissa? How did he meet her? None of it made any sense.

“I’m begging you,” Adam said. “Give me more time, another day, just one more… Hello, are you there?… Are you there?”

The call had disconnected. He tried to call back and listened to the voice mail: “Hey, this is Marissa’s cell. Sorry I missed your call. Leave a-”

He pressed end. He sat at his desk, holding the phone, shaking worse than before. He had no idea what to do next. He’d never felt so terrified and alone.

“Adam?”

His mother entered the room, and he immediately swiveled away so she couldn’t see his face.

“Please leave me alone, Ma.”

“Who was that on the phone?”

“I told you, it was just an old friend.”

“Why’re you-”

“I’m just upset about Dana, okay? Please just give me a little while, okay?”

His mother stood there for several seconds, then said suspiciously, “Okay,” and left the room.

Adam knew that if he told his mother what was going on she’d insist that he call the police, and he wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do. Xan was obviously psychotic and probably extremely paranoid, and Adam believed that he meant what he said- if he saw a cop, or even if he believed the police would get involved, he’d kill Marissa without hesitation. He’d already killed Dana, so what would stop him from killing somebody else?

But Adam wanted to make sure he was making the right decision. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time he’d acted impulsively. Although it was still difficult to fully concentrate, he imagined calling the police. He’d tell Clements exactly what Xan had said, but what if Clements misjudged Xan and showed up in Kingston with a whole SWAT team? Then what if Xan killed Marissa like he said he would? How would Adam live with himself?

There was no doubt about it- calling the police could be a huge mistake. His best chance to save Marissa was to placate Xan, give him exactly what he wanted, but how was he supposed to get one million dollars by noon tomorrow? He’d lied; he had the money- well, he could raise it, anyway. The problem was he only had access to a couple grand in cash and money market funds, but if he sold stock, mutual funds, liquidated part of his 401(k), he could get the million. But it would take time to do this; he sure as hell couldn’t get it done by noon tomorrow and make it all the way up to Kingston.

Then Adam had a thought that scared the hell out of him. What if he gave Xan the money and Xan killed Marissa anyway? Why wouldn’t he? What would there be to stop him?

Adam was feeling completely hopeless when he had another idea. It was risky, very risky, but it seemed to have a better chance of working than any of the other plans. He thought it through, deciding he had no choice but to go for it.

Johnny drove through northern New Jersey toward upstate New York. In Tuxedo he pulled over on the side of the road and turned on Marissa’s cell. In her dialed call log he found dad cell and clicked message. He sent Adam Bloom the text saying he’d kill the little bitch if he didn’t call back within a minute. Johnny wouldn’t’ve really killed her- why kill her before he got paid?- but, man, it was a rush to mess with Adam like that, to be in total control.

Naturally Adam called back, sounding desperate. Yeah, Johnny could hear the terror in his voice, and he knew he had him by the balls. Man, it felt so great to have all the power, to be the guy calling the shots. Knowing how much Bloom hated him made it even better. Johnny was the last person in the world Bloom wanted to talk to, but he had no choice but to stay on the phone and listen and do whatever Johnny told him to do.

After he gave Bloom the instructions, he ended the call while Bloom was still talking and turned off the phone. Then he wiped off all the prints and tossed the phone into the woods as far as it would go.

He drove another hour or so to a small town called Accord. When he was growing up at St. John’s, Father Hennessy would take Johnny and the other kids up to an old bungalow colony called Max’s for one weekend every summer. Although the bungalows were falling apart and the grass was overgrown, the kids loved getting out of the hot city and running around all day and breathing in fresh air. Johnny loved it, too, except when Hennessy took him on long hikes in the woods and raped him. He told Johnny that if he didn’t keep it a secret God would punish him. Johnny never told anyone, but not because he was afraid of God. He just didn’t want the other kids to make fun of him and call him a faggot.

Johnny figured that one of the bungalows would be the perfect spot to hide out with Marissa. He remembered Hennessy telling him the place was always empty during the off- season and there was no one around for miles.

They drove along the narrow, winding country road. There were so many weeds and overhanging trees in front of the max’s sign that Johnny missed the turnoff and had to make a U-turn and go back. The road going up the hill to Max’s used to be gravel, but it had become almost completely overgrown, and it was hard to even tell that it was a road. Johnny had thought the orphanage was still using Max’s, but it seemed like the whole bungalow colony had been abandoned, like no one had been up there for years.

Johnny parked where Father Hennessy used to park the mini school bus, at the bottom of the hill near the old barn. The barn had been dilapidated and bat- infested back then, but it was where Johnny and Carlos and the guys used to hang out at night and watch TV and play poker and blackjack.

When Johnny cut the headlights it was pitch- dark; he couldn’t see Marissa or the dashboard or anything. Then he turned on the flashlight he’d brought, and maybe the light startled Marissa or she just happened to wake up at that moment because she started moaning, “Where… where am I?… Where am I?” and Johnny said, “Someplace safe, go back to sleep.” Then she said, “How come we’re-” and Johnny said, “Just shut the fuck up and sleep,” which was probably a mistake because she suddenly started screaming. Johnny wasn’t very concerned- they were in the middle of nowhere, and no one had been to Max’s probably for years- but the screaming was loud, hurting his ears, and he just wanted her to shut up.

“Shut the fuck up!” he yelled, but she was fighting back, trying to scratch his face. Then she knocked the flashlight out of his hand, which really pissed him off. He fumbled around on the floor while she continued screeching in his ear, “Help me! Help me!” and then he grabbed the flashlight and smashed her in the face with it. He hit her harder than he meant to- he heard bone, probably her nose, breaking- and it didn’t shut her up at all; it made her scream even louder.

He found a rag he’d brought on the floor and poured some more chloroform onto it and then pressed it over her face. He was pushing down hard, right on her probably broken nose, which had to kill, but after about ten seconds she stopped fighting back and then passed out again.

He waited several seconds, enjoying the sudden silence, and then he put on his backpack and dragged Marissa out of the car. It was about ten degrees cooler up here than in the city- it felt like it was in the low forties, maybe the upper thirties. He should’ve brought a warmer jacket or a sweater and blankets and, oh yeah, food and water. But, come on, he couldn’t think of everything, right? Besides, they were only going to be here one night.