To Die For (P38)

To Die For (P38)

After a few hours drive, I could feel Ida's bony finger poking in my ribs. It startled me, but not as much as it would've a few months ago. I blame living with Ida for this. She was someone that kept you on your toes constantly. The assassin said nothing to me, just kept her head facing forward to the dark road ahead. I pressed my nose against the glass. The only thing that I could see outside was the silhouette of trees, and the outline of the nearby road barrier.


"We're not far from Mallacoota now. All you have to do is shut up, let me do the talking and then everything will be all fine. It's when people open their fucking cake-holes that things begin to go wrong." Ida sounded very calm and levelheaded. I knew right then that I should be scared. She was the type of person who acted best while cold. Too much heat in her blood and she tended to make sloppy mistakes. Cold, and she was a slow and ruthless killer. I had to say that she reminded me of a cat with its prey. Play with it a few times. Let it taste freedom for a few moments. Then kill. It was beautiful and scary all at once.


I didn't really take much notice of the landscape after ten minutes of shadows. I sat back in the barely-padded seat until she'd passed through the state border. I nearly fainted. That means that I'd managed to sleep the whole way through Eden. In a way I was glad, but was also disappointed. So many ghosts were hidden there, ones that I didn't necessarily want Ida awakening them, even though she was doing what I'd dreamed about my whole life.


We arrived a few minutes later outside a small caravan park. I checked the clock on the dash. Eight p.m. Hopefully someone's be awake at this time. The light was on in the office/shop. Ida stopped the car, and left me outside. The air was so cold and so clear. Made me shiver slightly. I hoped that we were entering this place legitimately, and I won't come in to find the owner's brains spewed over the counter.


Ida came back ten minutes later with a key slung around her finger. "We gots ourselves a cabin. It's got our own bathroom and everything. Only problem is that it's tiny. You'll be able to handle that, won't ya?" She grinned. I had an idea that she was enjoying this far too much. At least she was one of the few people around that enjoyed her work. That was something that you found too little about these days.


We drove the few 'streets' over to our cabin. It wasn't much, resembling some of the temporary classrooms we had at my old school. The cabin was tiny, and only had a small kitchen, table and a bed to the left of the door. To the right was a sliding door that led to two bunk beds and a tiny bathroom. Everything was decked out in that seventies fake-wood look. It was all-plastic and kinda reminded me of Ida's pokey flat. I slumped down in one of the plastic chairs, wondering why I desired nothing more to sit, after being on my arse in the car for the last -whatever- hours.


"So. How long do we have to stay here?" I asked Ida. This wasn't a bad place to stay, very hard to get caught. We were maybe fifty kilometres from Eden, over the state border and in an area where police had to cover hundreds of square kilometres. Yet another place where kids' graffiti in the toilets was considered a crime wave.


"Oh not long. Once I've worked out what we're gonna do, and I've staked out the territory a little bit more. Of course this means a few trips to Eden. You can amuse yourself here, can't ya? It would be %u2013very- risky for you to go back there. I couldn't see a whole lot of people there, so I bet it's one of those small places that everyone knows your name and you can't hide from anyone." Ida took out a cigarette and began to puff on it. Why she couldn't realise those things stink is totally beyond me.


I coughed slightly before nodding. Ida paused to raise an eyebrow, but said nothing. Those wheels in her head were turning, and I bet whatever it was that she was planning; it was something that I didn't want to get involved in. Why couldn't she just stab people randomly, or shoot cheating husbands like most people. Oh, no. She wanted to really fuck things up. "I'm gonna keep this simple, so it's harder to fuck up. Once your parents shut for the night and go to the back room, we slice their heads off. Any questions? No? So what's the security like?" Ida said very calmly. She lifted her cig back to her mouth and inhaled. Smoke billowed everywhere.


"Don't you think your plan is a little too simple? My parents have a panic button under the desk, and a camera there too. Sure, it's a small town, but they still do have police. It doesn't really matter if you get caught down there or in Sydney, your career would be over." I trembled a little as I said this, and I could swear that Ida's eyes slitted.


"Trust me, it wouldn't be over. Not in a hick shithole like this. You've gotta learn to relax sometimes. After all, I don't want you to be captured. I don't get any benefits from that. There's no way I'd ever let someone as valuable as you get captured by the law or anyone. You belong to us, and that means a lot to me."


That last line of Ida's really creped me out. I had never 'belonged' to anyone as such, and it was weird what she said. She said it all in a flat tone, so I knew that she meant every word that was coming out of her mouth. It also gave a rather ominous tone to what she was saying.


I went through to my bed, and put some sheets on it. I didn't care what Ida was mumbling about, just that I needed some sleep. A walk would've been nice to get out the kinks from the car, but I needed rest. Luckily the knife that I kept in my pocket for emergencies was still there. It was small, but it wasn't like there was a whole lot of skin around the neck. Ida would disarm me in seconds, but it was always better to go out with a bit of dignity, or so I thought. Surprisingly, with the little nap I had on the way down, I fell asleep right away. Maybe Ida was some kind of energy-sucking vampire and that's why I felt really tired whenever I was around her.


The next day, I woke around midday. It wasn't as long as my usual driving-around-the-countryside-with-Ida sleeps, but it was still long enough to have missed Ida. I awoke to a direct note addressed to me on the dining table.

"Gone to Eden. Don't leave the caravan park"

I sat down and slumped in one of the hard seats. There wasn't a whole lot to do, except watch crappy local TV with ads for Thommo's Hardware every five seconds. My urge was beginning to grow. Ida had to be doing this on purpose. She was trying to get me all deprived and bored, so I'd let loose in a frenzied attack. Despite her white-trash front, Ida actually was quite smart. Call it an animal instinct or street smarts or whatever, but she really knew how to manipulate people.


I amused myself by watching a bunch of American self-help shows, the type where kids yell and scream at their parents, the parents hit back and after an hour everyone's hugging, while ads for washing powder fill the gaps. It seemed that the world was conspiring against me. Click. Politicians yelling at each other about taxation. Boring. Click. A soap opera about Brad cheating on Candice. Click. I got up, turned off the TV and did some sandwiches with some cheese that Ida had picked up from the park shop. It was a great delight to run the kitchen knife through the cheese, carefully slicing it up into nice little bits. Of course I'd have to do it quicker when I'm with Ida. No use in making things worse than they already are.


In the middle of my little cookery session, Ida walked it. It was unusual for her to be awake at this time of day, let alone actually doing stuff. I turned my head around to enquire about our plans.


"It's pretty easy. Just storm in there at the dead of night and cut their throats. That motel seems pretty dead. It's like something from an American crime show, when the cops find the dead body in the pool. Fucking hell, are you parents bludgers or something?"


"Don't forget tight. They never hired a cleaner. I did most of the cleaning, but I sucked at it. I'm surprised that they'd stayed around this long. I mean, we were never busy, and if it wasn't for the fact they owned the land, we'd be kicked out of home" I sighed. I hated talking about my former life. That part of me was dead.


"Get a jacket. We're leaving." Ida coolly said. My heart jumped up into my mouth. She couldn't be serious. I had no idea what the fuck her problem was. I had no preparation, and my prey was someone that I used to be emotionally involved. I rushed in the car with absolutely nothing but my favourite knife.


"It's because you can't have anything to drink, isn't it? You're afraid of this new found sobriety, aren't ya?" I cowered inside, knowing that Ida had killed for saying less than that. She nodded and sighed. I knew how it must've felt, being forced to stay away from something that you depended on to live. She was more addicted than I was to killing.


Ida kept the old car going at a speed just over the speed limit, slowing down slightly as we approached every passing bend. She was a calm and an aggressive driver all at once. She somehow managed to navigate the largest bend ever, while managing to light a cigarette and putting it to her mouth. The sun had already gone down and Ida was feeding her tobacco addiction already. After stubbing her ash into an empty film canister (that I so thoughtfully got out from underneath the rubbish on the car floor.


"Look Morty. First thing we do is bury that canister. Then we go there, slit their throats and move on." She handed me a pair of gloves with her spare hand. I put them on, the sweat making the latex harder to pull up. My hands were involuntarily shaking, and my mouth was dry.


"It should be about seven when we arrive. I hope to get slashy-happy right away because I don't want to be around at eight, right around when the truckies begin to turn up. After that point, I think we passed the state border. I didn't really care anymore. Everything looked the same.


Then I saw it. The false paradise that I had escaped so many months ago looming on the horizon. The small fishing village of Eden was tempting me back home. This was no home. Home was Ida's shithole of a flat. We went down Imlay St and right down towards the Fuller Motel.

It looked the exact same way as when I left, a 'U' shaped building full of cracked concrete and with a panoramic view of the main road. Still, when most people were just here for a quick sleep and/or fuck, that's all they needed. A bed and a cheap TV. In the centre of the 'U' would be the office, and the few rooms out the back that I used to call 'home'. The 'Vacancy' sign was still up. We got so few visitors that my parents never bothered to change the 'No' bulb.

"Hey, I was wondering. Why is this place called the Fuller Motel anyways? It looks kinda empty to me!" Ida chucked, as I rolled my eyes at her horrible horrible pun. I sighed and explained something that I thought I'd never mention again.


"Fuller is my parent's names. It used to be my name too, before I ran away. My real name is Jacob Fuller. Terrible name, isn't it. So boring. So plain. Reminds me too much of a past that I simply cannot shake off." I was ready to cry. Why did she have to bring me into this shit-mess? It was at this point, I realised that my parents would probably see us about to arrive.


"Grab the fishing box in the back of the car. It's right next to the small gas barbecue. In it are two knives. Normally they are used to gut fish. Today I'll use them to gut your parents!" Ida chucked the same way she does when she's drunk. But I couldn't smell a drop of drink on her breath.


The place was very quiet. If I'd watched more movies, I'd say this place was more like the Bates Motel, all quiet and secluded. But in place of a mummy's boy, was my father. He consumed more beers that Ida did, but instead of randomly cutting off men's balls, he just hit me instead. Ida stopped the car, and re-did some of my eyeliner, and made my face slightly paler. I looked like one of those try-hard Goths that hung around Westfield.


I took out the knife and held it in my gloved hand. I felt the familiar power rush surge through me. I think I could see my dad's head. He'd lost a few more hairs, and the ones that remained were still grey. His belly was bigger, and he still had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. In another world, him and Ida would've been lovers. But this was reality, and reality means that people do different things.


Ida had already been walking towards the door with her balaclava on. My guess is she was doing all the killing. We walked in, I was a few steps behind. My dad took his eyes off the American murder-mystery TV show. More irony. Ida walked up. He looked at her and licked his lips. She licked hers. She moved quickly. His eyes widened. He walked towards the cash draw. She drew her knife. He raised his fists. She grabbed onto them. She twists them. He remains silent. She plunges her knife into his knuckles. He staggers. She smiles. She lunges. She runs her knife vertically across his neck. He bleeds. He looked straight into my eyes. They locked. He dies.


And the kid was ready to faint.