Chapter 12

Mills

The whole ride back to the city had been in silence. There was nothing to talk about. Yesterday had been great, what was there to say?

“You think that’s good enough for her?” Mills said.

He was asking about the food they left her. It was all convenience store junk food: a cinnamon roll for breakfast, along with a microwaveable pizza and a burrito, some snacks, water, soda. It was more than enough food, yes, but not very good at all.

“It was enough,” Beast said and got out of the car.

They checked the block before they parked, there were no cops around. Beast got out and pretended to be a regular guy, a pedestrian.

The street was deserted, good thing this happened during winter, when people stayed indoors.

The previous day they moved the bodies to the bathroom, then took her away from the crime scene.

That was before either of them knew what was going to happen. Beast hadn’t even dared to think he would be kissing her by the end of the day.

And here he was.

There was no movement whatsoever. Mills waited for him in the car.

“So?” He asked.

“All clear,” Beast said, peeking through the café‘s window, “go to the back alley. It’ll be easier that way.”

Mills clicked his tongue and moved the car. Beast pushed the door: it was still open. It took him a second or two to unstuck it from the ground, ice had gathered there and made it difficult to move.

The smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air.

Beast closed the curtains, darkness engulfing him for a moment before he turned on the lights.

The shop didn’t look bad at all, now that he could see it more clearly.

Yesterday, Jena stood behind the counter. He couldn’t concentrate. They almost killed Mr. Caronte because of that mistake.

By the way, why was that? Why did Saliani start shooting at him?

He would have to ask later. He had a job to do now. Getting rid of the bodies.

There was a knock on the door, four gentle taps. Beast waited for a second, Mills followed with another four. It was safe to open.

He opened the back door.

“Everything all right?”

“Just as we left it.”

“All right, let’s get started.”

Mills brought a couple of blankets from the car. They were old and full of dust, but they would do the job.

It’s not like the dead can complain.

A pool of drying blood waited for them at the bathroom, beneath two dead bodies staring at the ceiling.

After they were done wrapping them up in the blankets and tossing them in the trunk —acting normally, as if it was a regular day, and they were doing an errand the shop owner asked them to— they started cleaning the blood on the floor and walls of the place.

It was hard work, but someone had to do it. Two hours later, they were done.

“I think that’s it,” said Mills, pointing a black light at the walls and everywhere around the coffee house.

If there were traces of blood they missed, they cleaned them off with bleach.

“Yeah,” Beast said, “we’re done here.”

Experience taught them well.

They took the cleaning gloves off and tossed them in a plastic bag, they would burn it later, away from this place.

“Let’s finish this.”

A bit of sunlight filtered through the clouds, but the biting winter still fought hard to keep the temperature in the low thirties.

By the time they got to the river, most of the snow was already gone, but still, the air down there was like a shard of glass, trying to peel off their skin.

It took them a few hours to reach this place, a lonely fork on the road outside the greater Chicago area. They took their time, they had to do this right. No witnesses. Not another one, at least. They had more than they could handle with the one they met the day before.

Jena.

How was she doing? It was just past noon, now, and she hadn’t called.

“Do you think she will still be there when we get back?” Mills asked, taking out the body of that damn bodyguard, the one who almost got Mr. Caronte with his nine millimeter.

He was good, pushing the table like that. Like a fucking ninja.

“I don’t know,” Beast replied, helping him with the body, “I hope so.”

They walked to the river, the water looked like it was about to freeze.

“Okay, to the count of three,” he said, grabbing the dead body’s arms, “one, two, three.”

The water splashed behind them as they walked back to the car to pick the last remaining corpse.

“But at the same time,” Beast said, stopping before they grabbed pulled it out of the trunk, “maybe it would be better if she just ran away.”

A cold shiver ran down Mills’ spine.

They picked the body up and walked to the edge of the river, throwing it into the cold stream.

The stood there in silence, watching the water carry the body for a few yards before it finally disappeared under its surface.

“Don’t you think so?” Beast followed.

She would be better off without them. There was a chance for her if she just left. His heart raced, he couldn’t let her go that easily.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh, his voice hard and cold, “you’re right, man.”

For a second there, he could have sworn he saw disappointment in Beast’s eyes.

As if he was waiting for him to say “no, we can make this better.”

But he was a realist. All this shit was only going to get worse.