01:09
Episode 1: The Original Blueprints
Part 9
Violet drove a brand new Mustang along the bright neon squalor of University Avenue in St. Paul. She drove without the aid of insurance, registration or keys. Laurel sat beside her looking through the windshield as if she were trying very hard to remember directions.
“Nice job with the car back there,” Violet said. It was the first words either woman had spoken for five blocks. “I didn’t know you could start one with a cell phone.”
“Yeah, well my cousin showed me how.”
“Is that the same cousin with the motorcycle?”
Laurel squinted at Violet.
“Yes. That’s… him.”
Violet nodded.
“And he’s the same guy who showed you how to open a lock just by hitting the door?”
“Well it has to be the right kind of car and I really just got lucky.”
Violet nodded again and looked out at the road for a moment.
“Lucky,” she said at last. “Yeah. You sure get lucky a lot.”
Now Laurel’s squint became a glower. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. The lost little girl voice was back.
“Nothing,” said Violet. “It’s just that I haven’t known a lot of lucky people in my life, all right?”
“I’m not that lucky. My – my dad is dead.”
Violet looked over at the girl and there were tears in her eyes.
‘Oh jeeze‘ she thought.
Laurel sat quietly with her arms tightly folded around her chest and looked out the passenger window.
“Turn here,” she whimpered.
“Are you sure?”
Laurel only nodded.
Violet turned north off of the seedy, commercial University into an equally seedy St. Paul neighborhood. She sucked on a tooth and finally spoke “Look I’m sorry I got pissed at you, okay?” she told the girl.
“Sure,” said Laurel.
Violet shook her head. ‘This is very fucked up,” she thought.
Violet’s phone played “Give the people what they want” and she snatched it out of her leather jacket a little too quickly to be nonchalant. She grinned at Laurel and held it to her ear.
“What’s the news?” she asked.
“Where are you?” asked Ned.
“Did you lose them? Are you okay.”
“Of course I’m okay,’ snipped Ned. “Otherwise I wouldn’t call you. Where are you?”
“Jackson above University heading north.”
“Does the girl think the house is up there?”
“Yeah.” She looked at Laurel who was staring at the dashboard and sobbing occasionally.
“At least I guess so.”
“Good. That’s good. Just keep her, you know, safe,” said Ned.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Ned?”
“Yeah. Sure. She’s just a kid you know? Tell me when you get there.”
Ned hung up.
Violet replaced the phone inside her jacket and scowled in thought. She turned back to Laurel.
“Are we close?”
“Turn right up here.”
Violet made the turn.
“Just drive down to the end of the block here.”
Violet drove to where the street dead-ended. There was a large 1980s vintage house and beyond it an embankment leading down into a railroad track. The house was dark and the gravel driveway was overgrown with weeds gone dry in the November cold.
Laurel got out and walked to the front door. Violet climbed out after her, waiting until the girl was up the short steps before drawing her thirty eight. She watched from a distance as the realtor’s key-box disappeared and the locked door simply opened beneath the girl’s hand. Laurel turned to see Violet holding a pistol on her. Her triumph faded to shocked horror.
“That’s a neat trick,” Violet told her. “Did your cousin teach you that, too?”.
Laurel only gave Violet a damning look.
“That door was locked ,” Violet continued, “and you never used a key. This place is abandoned. Who the fuck are you?”
Laurel stared at Violet for a moment and then forced a grin to her face.
“No. You’re wrong. The door lock is broken and if you jiggle it just right it opens.”
Now Violet smirked and shook her head but didn’t lower the gun.
“Okay. Fine,” Violet countered. “The door lock is broken. No doubt your cousin showed you that, too. But why would your dad keep something so valuable in a house he didn’t care about, with doors that don’t lock?”
Laurel took a step and suddenly she was pointing Violet’s gun back at her.
Violet stumbled backwards away from the slippery young girl.
“How – how the hell did you do that?” she asked and reached behind her to produce yet another gun. This one was a forty five Colt automatic and she had it aimed directly at Laurel’s confused expression.
“How the fuck…?” Laurel shook her head as if to clear it.
“Looks like we’ve been keeping secrets,” said Violet. “Why don’t you tell me what’s what.”
“You first, Brenda,” answered Laurel.
Now it was Violet’s turn to look confused.
“Who’s Brenda?” she asked.
“You are — witch.”
“I am not a witch, moron.”
“Then I guess you pulled that gun out of your ass, huh.”
“Well… How did you get my gun? You must be a witch.”
Laurel lowered her pistol and handed it back to Violet.
“Here. You can’t actually hurt me anyway.”
Violet failed to take the gun so Laurel tucked it into her jeans then shrugged, smiled and snatched Violet’s forty five away.
Violet took several steps back and produced an AA-12 from behind her back.
“You’re fast, girlie. Should we see just how fast you are?”
Laurel stared open-mouthed in amazement.
“Where are you getting those guns?” she asked. “That’s fucking amazing.”
Violet pulled back the magazine feed of the big shotgun with a satisfying ka-chank. She didn’t smile.
“Do you know what this is?” Violet asked.
“Sure,” answered the girl. Her voice was calm and composed. “It’s an AA-12 automatic twelve-gauge shotgun with the twenty round magazine. Hope you don’t have it loaded with frag-twelves ’cause you could really hurt yourself.”
Violet growled.
“Not before I hurt you,” she said.
Laurel dodged and in two steps she stood next to Violet’s position but this time she did not hold the gun. Violet had dove beneath her and came up standing where Laurel had started. Laurel swore and made a leap at Violet who neatly side-stepped the gymnastic maneuver and brought the gun stock down hard on the girl’s head.
When Laurel came back up there was a gash on her forehead and Violet stared wide-eyed. Blood flowed out and ran down her face as expected but the gash was bone deep and showed a shiny metal skull beneath the open skin.
“Okay, that’s freaking fucked up,” Violet exclaimed. “What the hell are you?”
And then the gash began to close all by itself. Violet stood mesmerized.
“You ARE a witch.” Violet raised the shotgun level with Laurel’s heart.
“Christ!” shouted Laurel. “I am not a witch! I am a ….”
The door burst in and slammed against the wall behind it. Ned ran into the room with his forty five drawn and pointed at Laurel. Laurel countered by lowering both of Violet’s pistols at Ned.
“Good. You’re all right,” Ned told Violet. “I was worried about you two.”
“How did you find us?” asked Violet.
Laurel snorted. “He lojacked you, moron.”
Violet swung the AA-12 over to Ned. “Put the gun down, Ned,” she ordered.
Ned didn’t move.
“No. Not this time,” he said. “There’s something you need to know about the little girl.”
