around his waist and found that the big revolver felt good on his hip.
He took a deep breath and continued on into the kitchen.
Jimmy paused at top of the stairs. “Doc?” he called. “Is everything okay down there?”
The basement was quiet; the silence was enough to make the hair on the back of Jimmy’s neck stand straight up. As a young child, Jimmy had always been afraid of something in the basement of the Dahlgren lake home. The dark shadows surrounding the massive octopus-style furnace had frightened him; coupled with the dungeon-like smells and dingy light, it was a place he rarely visited alone. He slowly took the next step and the wooden stair groaned under his weight. “Paula? Are you two still down there?”
Jimmy stared down into the faint orange glow of the flickering light and took another two steps down. His nostrils were suddenly assaulted by the smell of cooking meat, and the smell sickened him. Something inside his brain screamed at him to turn around and as it continued to beg him to do so, as he slowly made his way down the stairs. The basement was utterly silent as his feet settled on the concrete floor. “Doc?”
Jimmy unholstered the Smith & Wesson and drew back the hammer with a loud metallic click. He steeled himself against what lay around the corner and slowly moved forward.
Nate Vetter would never steal another man’s woman; not in this world. “Oh, shit,” Jimmy hissed, trying not to look at the body. From the looks of it, someone had tried to sever Vetter’s head with Ken’s double-bitted axe. The killer had nearly succeeded as the floor was covered in dark red blood. Beyond Vetter’s body was the wooden door to the small storage room where the other men hid out to smoke their cigarettes. The door was open a few inches.
“Jimmy!” shouted Ken’s voice from the top of the stairs, sending his pulse skyrocketing. “What’s going on down there?”
“Stay upstairs,” Jimmy said after taking a deep breath. Ken had nearly given him a heart attack. “You don’t want to see this.”
The next sound was of Ken’s heavy footsteps clomping down the wooden staircase. A few seconds later, gun in hand, he was standing next to Jimmy. “Son-of-a-bitch,” muttered Ken. “What next?”
Jimmy had a good idea what was next and pointed toward the open door. “I think Doc and Paula are in there,” he whispered.
“Doc?” called Ken. “Come on out of there. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” replied Doc’s voice from behind the door.
Jimmy and Ken exchanged a look and stood their ground. Jimmy’s eyes rested on the white skin of the amputated hand that was still sitting on the workbench. Jimmy quickly looked away, but his stomach rolled at the memory. He should have tried to stop Doc; he now knew it, and his conscience was never going to let him forget that. He was partially to blame for all of this.
“Open the door,” Ken said, raising his chin as he did so. “I need you to come out of there.”
“I’m sorry,” Doc whimpered. “I guess I went a little crazy. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“We know that, Doc,” Jimmy said. “Come on out and we’ll help you.”
“You should have warned me about her, kid. She made me do it. She was an evil bitch and I loved her so damn much.”
Jimmy felt a pang in his heart as he realized that Paula was dead. Somehow, he had hoped that she had escaped out the garage door.
Sadly, Ken shook his head. “Where is she, Doc? Is she in there with you?”
“No, she’s out in the garage. You might not want to go in there, I’m afraid she isn’t so pretty, not anymore. I’m sorry… I’m so damn sorry for all of this.”
“Old-timer, I’m coming in. Don’t do anything foolish, okay? I want to help you.”
“You can’t help me,” Doc replied in a weak voice. “I’m done for.”
Jimmy watched as Ken slowly opened the door. There Doc sat, holding his head in his large hands. He was
Learning to Kill: Stories