Rivers of the Dead - 8. 1-8 - Compromise

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By the time Liz made it back to the car, Caleb was no longer crying, though he looked as if he'd already been to hell and back to try and find Ethan. She wanted to help him more than anything, to make him feel better, but she had a feeling there was only one answer that would be acceptable to Caleb. She didn't think he was ready to read the journal Ethan's mother had given her, and so she placed it carefully on the back seat with some of her other things, sparing one last glance at Caleb before closing the door and walking back to the driver seat. With a heavy sigh, she climbed back into the car and started driving without a word.

Caleb didn't seem like talking, which was fine with her. She'd had plenty of emotional turmoil for one day, and didn't think talking about it would do her much good. It gave her time to think about what she'd just learned regarding Ethan's death. It hadn't been blood loss after all, but a drug, and she knew a thing or two about drugs and where to get them.

The only problem was getting the ingredient without telling Caleb. After learning the truth from Mrs. Pallet, Liz remembered the doctor saying something about being uncertain as to the cause of death, but it had slipped her mind until now. Caleb, Liz was sure, still thought the blood loss had been the cause, and there were reasons why she wanted him to continue thinking that.

Mrs. Pallet had said that Ethan had taken the pills and then slit his wrists so he'd be certain to die even if they managed to stop the bleeding. Caleb couldn't know that. Liz also distinctly remembered Ethan trying to tell them that he'd taken something. Caleb couldn't know that, either. He already blamed himself too much, and knowing how close he'd been to saving Ethan's life would destroy him.

And so she drove to the opposite end of town from Caleb's house, a place she frequented but he rarely visited. Despite this, Caleb seemed to pay little attention to where they were driving, and it wasn't until they'd pulled onto the street where her intended destination was located that Caleb finally looked up in alarm.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"I know what to do about the last ingredient," Liz said, thinking she'd figured out a way to explain her intentions without letting Caleb in on the truth.

"Isn't this where your weed dealer lives?" Caleb asked as they stopped in front of a small, dilapidated home. A rusty car sat on the front lawn, and three more in even worse states of disrepair sat along the side of the house. There was a distinct clanging sound of someone working on a car inside the garage. Jake Sanders was a mechanic if he was talking to a cop, or to anyone who might be a cop, or to anyone who knew a cop, but it was really the front to a much more lucrative business of selling drugs to high school students. Everyone at school knew he did it, even now, two years after he graduated.

"Yeah," Liz confirmed, "This is Jake's house."

"So, what? You think your criminal friends could help us get the knife?" Caleb asked skeptically.

Liz sighed, her fingers tapping the steering wheel nervously. "Not exactly."

"What then?"

"I'm here because Ethan . . ." Liz started, thinking for a moment she would tell Caleb the truth, that maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but the look of hurt in Caleb's face firmed up her resolve. She had to continue deceiving him.

"Because Ethan what?" Caleb asked.

"Because Ethan's knife isn't going to be accessible. I'm here to get something to help with my focus," she explained. "I think a strong enough drug will help me work around the fact that we're missing the real knife. In fact, I'm positive it will."

"How so?"

"Magic is a matter of three things; will, pure emotion, and knowledge. I have the emotion and the knowledge, but the will?" She turned off the car at last, then turned toward Caleb, key in hand. Gesturing with the key in a way that she hoped would make sense, she continued to explain. "See, knowledge is what gets you the spell in the first place, pure emotion is the resource that feeds the spell, and will? Will is the key. Will turns it on and drives the whole thing forward and is usually the hardest part. I need to be able to convince myself that the fake knife is the right one, and if I use something strong enough, I can probably do that. Then my will should be able to force the magic into effect."

"Okay," Caleb replied, nodding. "I think I get it. Speaking of Jake, though, how'd your prosperity spell go, anyway?"

"Truth is, I still haven't paid Jake off. With what happened to Ethan I completely lost track of the spell energy and it fizzled out before I could put it to use," Liz replied, wincing at the thought of facing a greedy Jake. But it had to be done. She could try and get the drug elsewhere, it was true, but if she went to another dealer Jake would hear about that, too, and he'd be far more pissed off at her for her disloyalty than for missing a payment.

Of course, Caleb, who'd never touched a drug in his life, didn't see things from that perspective. He gave Liz a hard look and asked, "So, you're risking getting your ass beat by coming here?"

"It's not like we aren't risking our very lives for this spell," Liz replied, hoping it would be an adequate reason for Caleb to let it slide.

"Fair enough," Caleb replied. Liz suppressed a sigh, knowing it would give her away.

"I'll be right back. If I start screaming, help me out, please?" Liz said. Caleb rolled his eyes but nodded his assent as Liz climbed out of the car. She walked up the side of the house, next to the broken-down cars and around to the back where a door opened into the garage. She knocked twice, then four times, then opened the door. It was a signal that she was friendly, which meant Jake would keep his gun tucked away. She hoped it would stay that way.

The clanging stopped as soon as she walked into the dimly lit garage. As her eyes adjusted to the light differential, she heard a low chuckle come from the shadow of a man standing ten feet away from her. "Liz . . ." Jake said, "funny you should show up. I was just thinking about you. Was wondering when you'd show up for another handout."

"Jake, come on," Liz said, squinting to make out his form. He was wearing oil-stained coveralls and a red bandana to keep his greasy black hair from attracting even more grease. He wiped his hands with an oil rag as Liz continued. "I didn't come for more weed."

"Yeah, what then?" Jake said, throwing the rag down at his feet. He adjusted something in his coveralls, the gun Liz had seen more times than she liked. "You come to pay up?"

This was where things were going to be tricky. She had to play this exactly right, or Jake was going to blow up. "Not exactly," she said carefully. "Got any methadone?" She didn't say it so bluntly to antagonize him, she just wanted to have all her cards on the table. It didn't make sense to keep her intentions hidden. Jake didn't like it when people tried to manipulate him.

But he also didn't like it when his debtors wanted more stuff for free. "What the fuck?" He asked. "You think I'm gonna just give you more product?"

"Not really," Liz said, shrugging helplessly. She did her best to transfer that helplessness to her expression as well as she went on, "Look, I don't have the money, all right? I kinda lost track of time, what with my best friend killing himself."

"Okay, you know, I'm a nice guy, and that's fair," Jake said, lifting his hands in apparent surrender. Then a sickening grin crossed his face, and he said, "But I'm not giving you more time. I have a way you can make it even, though."

"What then?" Liz asked, a knot in her stomach telling her exactly where this conversation was going.

Jake confirmed her suspicions with a sickeningly sultry, "You're gonna pay with your body."

Liz wasn't entirely against this, even though the thought did bother her. Jake wasn't the worst looking guy she'd ever seen, and he wasn't even the worst-behaved, though he was on the lower end of that spectrum. It was more the principle of paying for drugs with sex she wasn't too keen on. Also, there was another reason to protest. If she acted like she hated the idea, Jake would think her purity meant more to her. That meant she could sell it for more than it was actually worth.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked, giving him a flat stare.

"No," Jake said, reaching into his coveralls to draw out the black pistol he kept there. He leaned against the car again, then pointed down at his distended crotch with his empty hand. "You blow me right now or you're gonna wish you had. Or you can give me the money. Your choice."

Liz crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing the gun with defiance. She had no intention of letting him use it, and she genuinely wasn't afraid of it. But there was a game to be played, and she had to defend her honor until it was time to sell. "Fuck you, Jake," she spat.

"That's the idea, princess," Jake said, undeterred. "You blow me for the weed, you let me fuck you for the methadone." He wiggled his eyebrows, then lowered the gun to his side. "I'm messing with you, Liz. I'm not that kind of guy . . . Shit, girl, you're my favorite customer. The gun isn't even loaded, and I wouldn't take advantage of you like that. I'm a gentleman, heh. You can have more time, but I can't give you any more product until you pay me the cash. Sorry, there's nothing I can do."

"Ugh . . ." Liz said, closing her eyes and prepping a small, memorized spell she could do without ingredients if it turned out Jake was testing her. It would be enough to let her run if Jake decided to get ugly again, a simple blast of telekinesis that'd make Jake drop the gun whether it was loaded or not. She couldn't do much with it, but it would do. But it was time to make the counter-offer and hope he took it. "How about a compromise."

Jake pursed his lips thoughtfully. "What you got in mind?"

"I'll blow you now, but I've got a friend in the car waiting for me," Liz replied. "I don't have time for more, but I need the methadone, now." She held her breath, hoping he'd take the offer. She was certain she could weasel her way out of letting him fuck her if she got the money before the next time they met, and at least then she'd have the methadone.

But Jake had a counter-offer of his own. "Fine. But that means I get to choose which hole I use when I come to collect. And I am coming to collect."

Liz groaned, but it was better than nothing. "You're a real bastard, you know that?"

"Hey you're the one who decided to take the offer." Jake unzipped the front of his coveralls and wiggled his eyebrows expectantly. "Didn't you say you had a friend waiting?"

Don't forget to comment and react to this chapter! Also, special thanks to my Patreon Supporters: Michael, Bill, Charles, Amr, Don, James, Joe, Jos, Mark, Mark, Paul, Steve, and John. Couldn't have done it without them. Ask me how you can help and get access to chapters early!