Ike Hamill - The Vivisectionist

“Yeah, they live down your way kinda — western Mass,” said Jack.

“You’ll have to come to the city,” said Stephen, politely but without much enthusiasm.

“I’m not going down there,” said Jack. “I’ll come up with a reason to not go.”

“How come?” asked Stephen, secretly relieved. The feeling surprised him a little, but he had grown a little scared of Jack since Ben had left.

“I’ve got too much to do here before the school year starts,” said Jack. “I can’t waste any time.”

He opened his mouth to question Jack’s itinerary, but then decided against it. “Huh,” Stephen said instead.

“I’ll tell you someday,” Jack replied to the question that Stephen hadn’t asked.

Stephen tossed and turned that night, his sleep troubled by disturbing dreams. He woke in the middle of the night wondering if he was coming down with a cold. When getting a bad cold he would always have the same dream over and over again, like he was stuck in a loop until his fever broke.

In the worst dream he rode a bicycle down hill and couldn’t find the brakes. The bike had curved handlbars, like his touring bike, but where his bike had levers, this one had nothing but white grip-tape. He spun his feet backwards thinking maybe the bike had coaster brakes like his dad’s antique bicycle. Looking down, he couldn’t see any mechanism to slow himself, and the ground kept streaking by faster and faster.

To make matters worse, the smooth asphalt road gave way to gravel and eventually to hard-packed dirt. He would wake up from the dream just as he steered the bike into a tree or over a cliff. About two AM he woke from this dream and sat straight up in bed. Something besides the dream had woken him up, but he didn’t know what was wrong.

Through the window he saw a thin moon shining between the maple leaves. He thought he saw a shadow move near the foot of his bed, but as soon as he blinked twice, the shadow disappeared. Closing his eyes tight, Stephen slid down in his bed until just the top of his head poked out from under the covers. There might be something in his room, but he decided to ignore it and wait for morning.

Despite his fear, he fell asleep again within ten minutes and returned to the same terrible dream.

Stephen slid halfway out of bed before completely waking up. His cell phone, perched on the end table and plugged into its charger, was ringing its alarm.

He planted a hand on the floor and pulled himself the rest of the way out of bed. His feet hit the floor and he straightened up to grab his phone. Pulling out the charging cord, he flipped it open to read the alarm.

“Meet me near salamander rock. Come right now,” said the display. Stephen shut off the alarm and thought about the message. His clock read seven AM.

The salamander rock part was easy, he remembered that rock. A few weeks earlier, before the hotel adventure, the boys spent an hour trying to catch a salamander in the creek. Ben caught it on a rock which became known as “salamander rock.”

Stephen couldn't guess why Jack wanted to meet him at seven in the morning, or why Jack put the appointment on his phone instead of just asking.

He had to make a quick decision, and thought about the fourth of July. Jack stood up for Stephen, even though they didn’t like each other then and he had no reason to risk his neck. Stephen decided to return the favor and settle up with Jack. He pulled on his pants and got ready to meet Jack in the woods.

Heading down the path, Stephen felt like a bundle of nerves. He felt like he was waiting to take a test and he had forgotten to study. Breath shallow and heartbeat fast he tried not to rush — he wanted to be ready for whatever Jack was calling him towards. Despite his resolve, he accelerated until he heard voices up ahead. He stopped and listened.

“Listen kid,” a raised voice said and then trailed off.

Stephen darted off the path and followed a thicket of pine trees closer to the creek. Hunched over, he could make it under the dry branches. The pine needle carpet let him approach silently. He stopped when he heard the voices coming from the other side of a burm.

“Do you want the deal or not?” someone asked. The voice sounded firm and forceful, but young. It took Stephen several moments to realize that the voice belonged to Jack.

“First you gotta tell us how you got my phone number,” answered a deeper voice.

“I got it from Vigue,” said Jack.

“Vigue doesn’t have my phone number,” said the voice.

“I guess you don’t know what Vigue has,” answered Jack.

“Well, we got half the money already anyway. You don’t want to tell me where you got my number? Maybe we’ll just keep your cash and you can get fucked,” said the voice.

“That’s funny you should say that, Danny,” said Jack. “Because it suggests that you’ve got the upper hand here, and that’s really not the case.”

The conversation stopped, and Stephen wondered if something had happened. He wanted to move forward to get a better look, but he couldn’t judge how far away Jack and the other man stood.

“Yeah?” asked the voice — Stephen guessed it belonged to Danny. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Well, two things: one is that I wrote a letter to Sheriff Kurtwood and told him how he could prove it was you two who killed those dogs and cats.”

Stephen held his breath.

“The second is that one of my friends is over there in the woods, and he runs fast,” said Jack. “You can screw me over, but as soon as you do, he’s going to run back to the house and give my dad the letter and tell him that you guys snatched me from the back yard.”

Stephen could now picture the conversation. Jack was facing off against Smoker and Bag Man and was threatening them. He wondered what Jack could possibly want from these two and why he had revealed that he knew about the shootings.

“See, I told you it was this fucking kid,” said Danny. Stephen heard another gap in the conversation and figured it might be Bag Man talking low to Danny. “Yeah, you don’t have anyone in the woods kid, so you can stop fucking pretending.”

“Hey, make some noise,” yelled Jack.

It took Stephen a second to realize that Jack was talking to him. He wondered how Jack could be sure that he was listening. He thought for a second more and then yelled, “Hey.”

“What the fuck?” said Danny. “That’s it, kid. You’re done.”

“Get ready to run,” yelled Jack. He continued in a softer tone and Stephen had to strain to hear Jack above his own beating heart. “Just wait a second. I didn’t tell the sheriff shit, or else I’d have nothing to tell him now. It was that target-shooting guy that ratted you out. Let’s just do this deal and go our separate ways. I’ll even throw in an extra hundred.”

There was silence after Jack’s proposal and Stephen got ready to run. He knew that Smoker and Bag Man would come for him any second. He started to slip back from his position when he heard Danny’s voice again.

“Okay,” said Danny. “It’s in here. Where’s the cash?”

After a pause, Jack said, “Under that rock, there’s an envelope.”

“What about the extra hundred?” asked Danny.

“It’s in there. Check,” said Jack.

“Alright kid, just remember, we’ve got friends too. If you fuck us over, we can find out where you live and one of our friends might pay a visit to your mom one day when she’s alone,” replied Danny.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m just a happy customer,” said Jack.

Stephen heard footsteps moving through the leaves. He let out his breath slowly, trying not to make any noise, and slumped to the ground. Danny’s voice receded to his left. Moving right, Stephen wanted to put extra distance between himself and the animal-killers. As the drama faded, Stephen wondered what Jack had purchased.