16MARY SUE PAYSme a brief visit before she heads out for her date shortly before 6:00. As she had promised, she is sporting a blue sweater and casual, but nice, jeans. She looks perfect for the role of young woman headed out for coffee with a blind date.“Good luck with your date tonight, girlfriend,” she chirps. “I’d tell ya to be careful, but I know you, so I won’t bother.”“Yeah, you too,” I say, rolling my eyes, but smiling.“Don’t jump the kid’s bones right away. Make him work for it.”“Ummm ... shouldn’t it be yougetting that advice?”“Normally, yes. But with this dipshit, I don’t think it will require much restraint on my part to make him wait ... ”“True that.”“Meet back here when we’re done and compare notes?”“Yeah, I guess.”If we were just comparing work notes about the case, I wouldn’t have any hesitation about meeting up afterward. However, I know Mary Sue well enough to know this comparison of notes is going to be more focu
17THE DREAM, of course, continues to haunt my sleeping hours. There is, however, one significant change to the dream. Tonight, Jason’s role in the dream has been replaced by Duke. It goes without saying this change does nothing to alleviate the tension caused by my nocturnal imaginings—if anything else, when I at last wake in the morning, I am more tense than I have been so far this week.I groan, every muscle in my body straining in protest as I role over in bed, pick up the phone and make a spa appointment for half an hour from now. Take a shower, send a text message to Mary Sue letting her know I’ll be ready for breakfast in about an hour, and then head down to the spa. I’m a little disappointed to find Bill the Hunky Masseuse is not available today, but I suppose they have to give him a day off from time-to-time. His replacement this morning is a girl named Tiffany, and while she doesn’t work out all of the knots the way Bill the Hunky Masseuse would, I grudgingly admit she gets
18AS WE DRIVEto Bucksnort, Mary Sue turns to me and asks, “You know you’re going to have to kill him right?”“Who? Tom Cruise? Yes, I know. It was written in the stars, that someday our paths will cross and I will have to kill him. I’m okay with this fate. In fact, I welcome it. The smug little prick deserves it.”“No, you silly ninny,” she chides, rolling her eyes. “Duke. You’re going to have to kill him at the end of this.”I know where she’s going with this, but I’m not going to make it easy for her.“No shit, Sherlock. That’s the whole reason we’re here, isn’t it?”“Yes, exactly. And if you’re starting to like him, won’t that make it harder for you to kill him?”“For the last time, I don’t like him. He is a backwoods, trailer-park hick, and the only reason I’m seeing him at all is because of the mission. When I slit his throat, it will be no different to me than the hundreds of other people I’ve killed while on assignment.”“Fine, fine. So you say. But, just hypothet
19“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?”I ask, of no one in particular.Mary Sue, who did not just have a gun pointed at the back of her head, pulls herself together faster than I do. While I’m still processing what just happened, she’s already off the bed, across the room closing the door, and dialing Zeke on her cell phone.“Zeke, we have a problem,” she says once the door is closed. “The room service waiter just tried to kill us.”I can just imagine Zeke’s incredulous response to thatstatement.“Yeah ... Yeah ... Okay, you got it boss,” and then she hangs up. Zeke is nothing if not efficient. “He’s going to dispatch an extraction team, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. By the time the team would arrive if he sent them right away, it would be the middle of the night and they’d be way more conspicuous waltzing through the lobby at that time. In the meantime, I suggest we relocate to my room for the night and you can bunk up on the pull-out sofa in my
20AGAIN THE DREAMShaunt my night, and again the only change is Duke has taken Jason’s place in the cycle. I wake up, every muscle in my body feeling knotted and tense, a little before eight. Mary Sue, I see, is already up, dressed, and about.“Mornin’ sleepy head,” she chirps cheerfully, making me want to take her grape and onion peels from the night before and shove them down her cheerful throat. “You must’ve been having some dream there, I couldn’t tell if you were having the time of your life or being chased by Freddy Krueger.”“I think I would’ve preferred the torments of Krueger,” I respond, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and if Mary Sue thinks I am going to say anything more than thaton the subject of my dreams, she is going to be sorely mistaken.“Just got a text from Zeke,” Mary Sue says, mercifully changing course. “The extraction team will be arriving in a couple hours. We will need to be here when they arrive.”“Great, so we’re stuck here until then,” I gr
21BACK WHEN MARY SUEfirst approached me and suggested she give me some martial arts lessons, I naturally assumed it would entail washing her car and other tedious chores that would later grow into my becoming an instantaneous award-winning karate champion, after a motivational montage or two, underscored by an instant-chart topping ‘80’s pop-rock tune.So, I was kind of disappointed to find training—with Mary Sue, at least—was nothing like the movies. She never made me wash her car even once. With Mary Sue, my training was more a series of alternating between attacking her, and defending myself from her. In the beginning, regardless of whether I was on the offense or defense, I always ended up flat on my back with my breath knocked out of me. Now, it’s more like five out of ten times I end up getting my ass whopped by the buxom Barbie, so yay for improvement.We find a park on the outskirts of Dickson which appears to be fairly remote and unpopulated. Even though our training
22I GUESS I don’t need to tell you this is bad. I don’t mean that Fuck-tard the Wonder Weatherman go axed. Hell, that’s pretty fucking brilliant, if you ask me. There is nothing in the universe more beautiful than witnessing Karma in action.However, as far as the mission goes, this is an unfortunate complication—which is not made easier by the fact I was one of the last people seen to interact with the victim, and that was not exactly the most amiable of conversations.And then of course is the fact this is most likely the work of Nick and his cronies, meaning there’s at least one more T.H.E.M. turncoat working or staying at the hotel. I don’t like complications, and just like Duluth this mission is turning into a clusterfuck of complications.I won’t bore you with the details, but the rest of the night and most of the next morning is spent being interrogated by the cops. Needless to say, it has also surfaced I was the last person to see Craig the Waiter disappear, so now his sud
23MUCH TO MY utter disappointment and annoyance, the dreams do not abate that night. There is, however, one more tiny change to the narrative of the cycle. Previously, at the part where Jason/Duke turned into Nick, it was kind of a seamless change; one second it was Jason or Duke making love to me, and then it was Nick. I thought thatwas disturbing enough. Now, as Duke and I are going at it, I take a knife, plunge it into his back. Then, without losing a beat to the thumping of our passions, Duke reaches behind himself and begins pulling his skin away from the hole I just made in his back. He pulls and pulls, and his skin stretches, until he’s peeled it all off, revealing Nick underneath.Look, as you’ve undoubtedly figured out by now, I ain’t exactly a squeamish girl. I’ve watched my share of grotesque horror movies, and more often than not they just make me laugh or want to work as a consultant for Hollywood horror writers. However, that is some seriouslyfucked-up shit