Cut to the Bone(60)

“Me neither,” the strangler said.

“So why you on the Row if you’re innocent?” Trent said.

“I was framed.”

“Me, too,” Trent said.

They stared at each other.

Then burst out laughing.

“You really wanna know how it went down?” Trent said.

“Yeah.”

“Aw right then. Here goes . . .”

Old lady wants a kid. Me, too. I don’t want her messing up her figure though - that ho is hot and broke in just right. So I grab my keys and go shopping.

Few minutes later, I’m at the preggo store. You know, toys and stuffed elephants and shit. Preggo’s in the parking lot, waddling to a car. Like a walrus, all stuck out. Looks beat.

I roll down my window, ask directions to a church. Real polite, ma ‘am and miss and hope your baby’s healthy. She leans close, all trusting. I whack her in the head with my tire iron. Shove her in the trunk, tie on the gag, take off.

Hour later, I’m at the abandoned gas station. Variety is the spice of life, right? Anyway, this place is out in the country, nothing around but crickets. Boarded up tight. I know which nails are rusted away, of course.

Haul my preggo inside. Bout broke my damn back ‘cause that balloon of hers ain’t exactly helium. I rope her hands to a busted toilet, feet to a water pipe. Stretch her like a hammock and slap her awake. Big cow eyes flicker open.

I pull the knife from my pants. It’s eight inches long and thick as a - no, man, my knife. T’other’s a mile long and a foot wide. At least. Hah.

Preggo whimpers into the gag. She already knows what’s gonna happen. Since I know it too, I figure let’s get it on. She follows the steel like one of them hypnotized snakes.

I cut away her panties, then the rest of her clothes. She’s good-looking for a preggo, why not enjoy it? I rub her down there to open things up, then put in the blade. She’s screaming like Judgment Day. Which for her, it is, I guess. I start sawing, adjusting my angle as the red squirts out. Gotta do this right, you know. Can’t damage Junior.

Meanwhile, I’m slurping them plump ol’ titties. Man, they tasty. All fat and goobly ‘cause a kid’s in the oven. Salty like pretzels. Maybe peanut butter.

I cut straight up to her ribs, then across, then down. Her belly falls open. Kinda like the flap on long johns. Kid’s right there, all webbed in like Spider-Man. I yank him out. I know it’s a boy because of his Johnson, though it’s shrimpy as a CO’s. Hah. I smack his ass to make him breathe. Saw that once on TV. Kid starts yelling like he’s shot.

I tuck Junior in my coat. Don’t want him catching cold. Preggo’s dead, naturally. I thought about humping them titties, but that would be kinda, I don’t know, weird. So I walk.

Couple feet later something’s tugging on me. I forgot to cut the cord! So I grab a handful and pop it off. Preggo bleats like a sheep. I hit my noggin jumping so high - it was zombie time, man. I stab her neck till she’s dead dead. Then tuck the cord under the kid, so it don’t leak all over my leather seats. We leave.

I’m just about to my car when the kid starts bawling. Shut the hell up boy or I’ll stick you like mama, I say. He’s not obeying, so I shake him. Gotta let ‘em who’s boss, right?

Next thing you know the little bastard’s dumping on me. Damn, it stinks. He’s screaming harder, too. So I smack him in the head, jam a hanky in his mouth. Now he’s quiet.

That’s when I hear the steps. I turn around. Two big bastards, rushing like nose tackles, something shiny in their hands. They’re hollering, Police, freeze, don’t move, or we’ll blast ya. Like Miami Vice except their clothes are shitty. Turns out they’re on a stakeout a couple miles away and stopped at the gas station to drain the lizard. Looked inside while shaking ‘em off and saw the preggo. Heard the kid, spotted me.

I take off. I know these woods like the back of my hand, so it’ll be easy to lose two dopes who don’t, right? I wish! They’re gaining on me. So I bounce the kid off a tree stump. They’re cops so I know they’re gonna stop to save him.

Wrong again. Benedetti, the sheriff’s guy, he stops. Starts doing that CPR. But the other one keeps running. Branch. A Naperville cop, not sheriff’s. Got some goofy first name like Caesar or Detroit . . . ah, right, Hercules.

Anyway, Branch is about caught up to me. So I fall to the ground, start hollering I give up, don’t hurt me no more. But I’m hiding the knife under me. He lands on top. I snake around and sling the blade. Catch him right across his ugly face. He springs a dozen leaks, eyeball to chin. Keeps fighting, but weaker. I wiggle out of his grasp. Gonna stab him in the heart fore he triggers his bullets in my ass, then get myself gone in the woods.