Hack/Slash: Love and Death in a Small Town

Even in the middle of a Slasher fight, you can find feelings you didn't know you had.

[Author's Note: This story follows the crossover story Skank and Hack: Slasher Road.]

They had used the credit card that Beth and Jarvis had given them to buy a new van, although Vlad had insisted on one that was very much like the old one. They had also been able to obtain some cash from the card before the ATM machine stopped accepting it, but now their funds were starting to run low.

"Specifically, $67.52, after this feast," said Cassie, as they sat in a diner in a town called St Huberts, on the road to Omaha. They had heard of some activity that sounded like Slashers there. And Omaha was as good a place as any to go. Vlad said that he liked the sound of the name.

Neither of them had spoken about the incident in the dark of their Holiday Inn room, several weeks ago now. Which did not mean that Cassie, for one, had not thought about it. Like twenty times a day. But she tried not to. Didn't really know why.

Cassie finished her fries as Vlad started on another greaseburger. "We really should start thinking about eating better," said Cassie. "At this rate, if the Slashers don't kill us the cholesterol will. Maybe some fruit. Not everything has to be deep-fried."

"I like deep-fried," said Vlad, between mouthfuls.

Cassie sighed. "Yeah, me too," she said.

Suddenly, the door of the diner flew open and two guys wearing ski-masks came in. One had a shotgun and the other had a pistol and a knife.

"Nobody move!" shouted one of them.

"Everybody put your hands up and lie on the floor!" shouted the other.

"Great," muttered Cassie. "We're going to be robbed by the Marx Brothers."

"Only two of them," said Vlad. "Four Marx Brothers."

"Four? I thought there was only three."

"Zeppo."

"Oh yeah, I always forget about him. The normal one."

The robbers had settled on the Nobody Move option, apparently, and were emptying the till, putting the money into a canvas sack.

"Shit, this is almost nothing," said one of the guys, whose ski-mask had pictures of little skiers. "This won't even get us out of town."

"Then everyone else can contribute," said the other guy. He pointed the shotgun at the customers. "Everyone put your wallets, purses and jewellery into the bag as we come around," he said. "And anything else that might be worth something."

The two guys started walking along the row of tables, and people put their stuff into the sack. Eventually, the two guys reached Cassie and Vlad, sitting at the back.

"Sorry, can't help you," said Cassie. "Our total capital is less than sixty-eight bucks, and we need it."

"We'll take it," said one of the guys. Cassie got the feeling that they were brothers. "We really need to get out of this place."

"We take the money or we take you," said the other one, whose mask had a line of blue hearts around the edge.

"Don't even go there," said Cassie.

"How about both?" said Little Skiers.

"Yeah, both, why not," said Blue Valentine. "Hey, darlin', you'd look alright on your back with your legs tied open."

"Oh, please, sir, don't do that to me," said Cassie, in a Red Riding Hood voice.

The brothers looked at each other. They tried an evil laugh but it didn't really work, coming out more like a phlegmy cough, in stereo.

Cassie sighed again. Then she moved. She threw her half-full cup of coffee into Blue Valentine's face and, on her feet now, snatched the pistol from Little Skier. She ejected the clip and the slug in the chamber and put the gun back in his hand. He was so surprised that he just looked at it. Then she picked up the glass water jug from the table and smashed it over Blue Valentine's head. She kicked out, sending the shotgun flying. She punched, and he went down.

Little Skiers remembered that he had a knife. He threw the gun aside and lunged at her with the blade. She blocked his arm but his weight bent her back over the table. He put his other hand on her throat.

Cassie turned her head to look at Vlad.

"Feel free to jump in any time," she said to him.

"Can't fight," said Vlad, as he swallowed another chunk of burger. "Eating."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Oh, alright, I'll do it myself," she said. She brought her knee up, smashing the guy in the groin. He gasped and let go of her throat.

She did it again, even harder. He groaned and dropped the knife.

She took hold of his shoulders and head-butted him in the face. Then she kneed him in the groin again.

"Actually, that last one was just for fun," she said as the guy collapsed.

Blue Valentine was still on the floor but was reaching for the shotgun. She stood on his fingers. There was a cracking sound. He cried out.

She looked down at him. "I know that St Huberts may have … limited … opportunities for a pair of go-getters like you two," she said to him. "But exactly why is it so important for you to get out?"

He looked up at her. Specifically, he looked up her skirt. "Oh, go ahead," she said. "Probably the last female ass you'll see in a while. And answer the question." She put a little more weight on the foot that was on his fingers.

"Because," he groaned, "everyone in this town is going to die pretty soon."

"Huh," said Cassie. "Well, we're just passing through."

The St Hubert's Police Department was a middle-aged woman called McKinsey. Someone at the diner must have called her. She scraped the brothers up and locked them in the back of her police wagon.

In the diner car-park, she came over to Cassie and Vlad.

"The owner gave me the story," said McKinsey to Cassie. "You did a remarkable job."

"Well, I didn't want to give them our $67.52," said Cassie. "By the way, one of them said something about a world of hurt coming down the road, right at you. He might have been just shooting it off – and he'd just been hit on the head with a water jug – but you might want to ask him about it."

The cop nodded. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean," she said. "We've had some trouble around here, this past year. Some disappearances. Mainly drifters, runaways and petty crims. The sort of people who are below the radar to start with. Maybe Leo and Forsythe – the two bozos you beat up – might know something more about it. I've had a few run-ins with them over the years, nothing big but that was just because they hadn't got to it yet. But you arrest these guys a few times, pretty soon they know all about their rights. So I can't question them. Damn Miranda."

"But if a non-cop person – or two non-cop persons, since we are speaking hypothetically – asked them, then that would be alright, wouldn't it?" said Cassie.

McKinsey smiled. "Hypothetically, that would be just a private conversation," she said. "And anything that was subsequently said to a cop would also be a personal matter." She took a set of keys from her pocket and dropped them on the ground. "Gosh," she said. "I believe I have misplaced the keys to my police wagon."

"On the ground," said Vlad.

"No, I've misplaced them," said McKinsey.

"Right there," said Vlad, pointing.

"Shut up, Vlad," said Cassie.

"Well, I think I will go and … uh, let me see, er, yeah, collect more witness statements from people in the diner," said McKinsey. "Maybe have a cup of coffee as well. Should take about twenty minutes." She turned to go.

"Don't forget your keys," said Vlad.

McKinsey sighed and looked at Cassie.

"So hard to get good help," said Cassie to McKinsey. "Twenty minutes." She picked up the keys and then went to their van. She took out her KISS IT bat. Then she opened the back of the police wagon, and she and Vlad climbed in.

"Hi," she said to Leo – Blue Valentine – and Forsythe – Little Skiers – who were sitting on a bench, their masks pulled up and their hands cuffed behind them. "God, you two have crappy names. But that's no excuse for poor social interaction. Now, I would like to hear more about this everyone-is-going-to-die thing."

"Fuck you," said Leo.

"You wish," said Cassie. "Look, I appreciate that you are not in a good situation. But it could be worse."

"How!?" said Forsythe.

Cassie scrutinised the wide end of her bat. "Well, my friend Vlad here could remove your trousers and then I could use this thing to explore the area where the sun doesn't shine," she said. "And remember that you raised the option of taking me somewhere for a kiss and a cuddle. So I'm sort of alright with the idea of you not saying anything. Aside from the screaming, of course."

The brothers looked at each other. "And if we tell you?" said Leo.

"You get to keep your trousers and your virginity. Until you get to jail, anyway."

"Hrr," said Vlad.

"Here's the story, such as it is," said Cassie, as she sat down at a table in the diner, with McKinsey.

"Brought your keys," said Vlad, putting them on the table. "You should be more careful with them."

"The bozos mentioned somewhere called the Crompton place," said Cassie. "You know it?"

"Sort of," said McKinsey. "Big old house in the next county. Outside my area of jurisdiction, technically, although St Huberts would be the closest town to it. There were a couple of generations of the Crompton family that lived there, but it dribbled down to one guy. Got into some trouble, judge gave him a choice between jail and the army. So he chose the grunts, went off to one of the wars, came back with one arm gone and a bad case of nightmares, so I heard. But he died a couple of years back, I'm pretty sure. Shot himself, I think."

"Slasher," said Vlad.

"Uh, what?" said McKinsey.

"He means that maybe your information was wrong," said Cassie. "Or maybe out-of-date. The bozos said that he recruited them to bring him people. They would tell passing drifters that there was work there, and or they'd say to crims that the place was empty and could be robbed. They would drive them out there. And that would be all she wrote."

"But the bozos got worried," said Vlad.

"They thought that Crompton was starting to look at them funny," said Cassie. "Licking his lips. And he was talking about coming to St Huberts for a party. Running out of drifters, I guess."

"So I guess that on this evidence I could go out there and … question him," said McKinsey.

"Yes, do that," said Cassie.

"Slasher," repeated Vlad.

"What my large friend means," said Cassie, "is that if you go out there you probably should take some heavy weaponry. Something more than a taser and a pair of handcuffs."

"Bazooka," suggested Vlad.

"Hmm," said McKinsey. "You two seem to know a lot about this … sort of thing. Maybe I should engage you as … consultants. The Police Department has some funds for consultant services. It usually means fixing the computer and stuff like that but I can fudge the paperwork. Since you currently have only $67.52 in your pockets."

"We do for free," said Vlad. "Bring you head."

"Keep talking," said Cassie to McKinsey.

McKinsey mentioned a figure. Cassie mentioned a higher figure. McKinsey mentioned a figure between the two. Cassie said okay.

"So we'll go out there tonight," said McKinsey.

"Uh-uh," said Cassie. "If you go, and there ends up to be a certain amount of blood on the floor, you'll have to do the police thing. 'Cos that's what cops do. Reports and court proceedings. We're not big on that. If there's some overflow of random violence, you can say you never met us. If we go down in a smoking heap, ditto."

"Ditto," said Vlad.

"Plausible deniability," said McKinsey. "Yeah, I guess that would make sense."

"And we don't usually play well with others, anyway," said Cassie.

The Crompton house had probably once been the most prestigious property in the area but now it was not far from falling down, with shuttered windows and rotten boards. But there were lights on, at least. And a big car in the driveway.

"One day," said Cassie, as they surveyed the place from hiding, "I would like to encounter a Slasher who lives in a nice penthouse of an expensive hotel, and he offered us good brandy and ice-cream and said that he really didn't want to kill anybody, that it had all been a terrible mistake, and then we would sit and watch some television with him, maybe cartoons. And he would be a handsome guy, and a gentleman. With a good sense of humour."

"Mmm," said Vlad. "Ice-cream."

"But I suspect that this is not that day," said Cassie.

"Probably not," said Vlad. "No ice-cream for Cassie and Vlad. And no cartoons either."

Cassie sighed. "Well, let's go and earn some money," she said. "And then burn this place to the ground."

She checked her Glock 18 pistol, and the extra clip. She took the safety off and put the gun into her belt. She picked up KISS IT. Vlad had his two axes, one in his hand and one in the holster on his back. He looked at the house.

"Smells funny," he said.

"Probably rotting, decaying, decomposing bodies," said Cassie.

"No," said Vlad. "This smells funny."

"Well, duh," said Cassie. "Since you think so, we won't go and knock on the front door and ask if Mr Slasher is at home. Look, there at the side, those boards are so far gone they would probably come off with a decent sneeze. That's our way in, I think."

As it turned out, the boards were a bit stronger than they had looked, but after a couple of whacks from Vlad's axe there was a hole large enough to get through.

They came out in a decrepit bedroom that led to a hallway.

"So now we just poke around and kill anything we come across, I guess," said Cassie.

"Good plan," said Vlad.

There was the sound of music. They followed it.

"Riders on the Storm," said Vlad. "The Doors."

"What?"

"The music. Sort of thing Slashers would like. Or people who have done too many drugs."

"Hold it," said Cassie. "Do you hear something that isn't the Doors?"

There was a noise from the dark end of the hallway. Growling. Snarling.

"That … does not sound like a Slasher," said Vlad.

A Doberman dog burst from the shadows and came racing towards them. Then another.

Cassie drew her gun but the dogs were moving so fast it was hard to get a bead on them. She switched the gun to auto mode and fired. There was a burst of bullets.

One of the dogs went down, yelping. The other leaped at them, as Vlad swung his axe. It chopped into the dog, which was thrown into the wall, a bloody mess.

"Well, Mr Slasher now knows we're here," said Cassie. They continued along the hallway and entered a large room. The music was coming from a stereo there. The song had the sound of rain in it.

There was more growling. They turned to face it.

It was a Slasher. And he was holding three more Doberman dogs, straining at leashes.

"Mr Crompton, I assume," said Cassie to the Slasher.

The Slasher just looked at them.

"Maybe not Crompton," said Vlad.

Another Slasher appeared at another door, on their left.

"Crompton?" asked Cassie.

The Slasher, somewhat surprised, shook his head.

And then another Slasher appeared on their right, this one a woman.

"Okay, I'm assuming that you're not Crompton either," said Cassie. "You know, it occurs to me that we might have got the wrong house – "

The Slasher with the dogs let them go as the other two charged.

Cassie fired a burst at the dogs, killing two of them. And then the gun clicked on empty. There was no time to re-load. She put the pistol in her belt and hefted KISS IT.

"We should have charged the cop more," she muttered.

Vlad swung the axe at one of the Slashers. The Slasher was knocked aside with a bloody wound, but it would not be enough to keep them down.

"Up," she said. She and Vlad began to retreat up the stairs, walking backwards, watching the Slashers and the remaining dog.

They reached a landing.

"Now, run," said Cassie.

"Run is good," said Vlad.

They reached the third, uppermost floor, and ran along a hallway. It was a dead end, a door at the side.

The dog came racing along the corridor. It was a big one.

"On three," said Cassie.

The dog leaped.

"THREE!"

The axe and the bat hit it at the same time. It went down.

"Still three Slashers," said Vlad. "Here is not good, this hall. Too exposed."

"In here," said Cassie, pointing at the door.

Vlad kicked it. Nothing. He kicked it again. Nothing.

"Strong door," he said.

"Hey, why don't we try this," said Cassie. She turned the handle and the door opened.

"Hrr," said Vlad.

They went in and pushed a wardrobe against the door. They looked around. It was a bedroom, with a large window.

"Let's hope that's it for the dogs, anyway," said Cassie.

Suddenly, the wall of the room exploded and a Slasher burst through. He had only one arm; the other was a half-blade, half-club thing. He had obviously used it to smash through the plasterboard wall. Part of his head was gone: the suicide wound.

"Crompton, at last!" said Cassie. "Damn, it's good to see you!"

Crompton, surprised, stopped his charge and looked at them.

"Did those … stupid boys … send you?" he said. "More toys for me?"

"Yes and no," said Cassie. "Probably more appropriate to say that they grassed on you. But they didn't mention that you had company."

"If you're going to take a whole town … you may as well … invite some friends to play," said Crompton.

There was hammering from the blocked door. It would hold for a while but not too long. And of course the Slashers might realise that they could get in through the room next-door, and the hole that Crompton had made.

Cassie raised her gun.

"You know, we're getting paid for this," she said. "I'd almost like to say that this is nothing personal. But it is. It always is."

"You're … out of bullets," said Crompton. "I was watching. You … shot the dogs."

"Maybe I reloaded as we were coming up the stairs," she said. "On the other hand, maybe I didn't. Oh, you can't say that, can you. Since you've only got one."

Crompton, with a vicious snarl, lunged at her with the blade/club. There was a clang! of metal on metal as Vlad blocked the blow with his axe.

But Crompton was strong. He swivelled and smashed into Vlad, sending him lurching backwards. Vlad dropped his axe.

And then Cassie shot Crompton in the face. Three times. He collapsed to the floor. "Told you," she said to him.

She heard Vlad cry out. She turned to see him go through the window in a shower of glass. He managed to grab onto the window sill.

She leaped for the window, dropping her weapons and grabbing Vlad's hand as the rotting edge gave way. She shouted as she took his whole weight. She knew that he would not survive the fall. Not from this height.

She was being pulled towards the edge, out the window.

"Cassie," said Vlad, "let me go. Or you fall as well."

"Shut up, moron!" she said, struggling to hold on. "I won't let you go!"

She glanced back at the room. Crompton was starting to get up. Her gun was on the floor, but she could not reach it without letting go of Vlad.

"Cassie … " said Vlad.

"Don't say it!"

"Cassie … "

"DON'T!"

She was now so far out the window that she could see Vlad below her. And from the corner of her eye she could see Crompton almost on his feet.

"Vlad," she said, as her muscles neared the breaking point. "Your axe … on your back … can you use it … that ledge – "

Vlad got the idea. With his free hand, he managed to draw the axe from the holster. He swung, and it cut into the wood. Using it as a pivot point, he managed to swing himself. He reached a ledge, and then a window. He smashed the glass with his foot and started to roll in.

Cassie let go of his hand. And then she felt Crompton grab her from behind. He pushed her back against the wall. She managed to turn to face him.

"You … die … now … pretty pretty," he said.

She kneed him in the groin.

Nothing.

"Huh," she said. "So Slashers don't have working genitals. Must be hard for you. Well, not hard … nothing to get hard, I mean … "

Crompton, enraged, lunged at her. But his anger had clouded his judgement, and for a moment he lost his grip on her.

A moment was all Cassie needed. She got a hand free and punched into his gut, pushing him back.

He swung the blade/club arm at her. It hit her on the side of the head with a glancing blow as she ducked and rolled for the Glock. Then it was in her hand and she was firing. The impact of the bullets drove him back.

Then the Glock was empty. She threw it aside and picked up KISS IT. With a yell, she charged across the room and smashed his skull with it, as he fell to his knees.

And again, and again, and again.

He hit the floor.

She picked up Vlad's axe and decapitated him. To be sure.

The improvised barricade at the door finally gave way, and the three Slashers came at her.

She swung the bat and the axe, and took down one of them. But she could feel that her strength was almost gone.

And then the head of one Slasher left its body in a gush of black blood. The other a moment later.

Vlad was standing behind them, his axe in his hand.

They stared at each other.

"Here you go," said Cassie, as she dumped the sack onto McKinsey's desk. "Yes, we know, there are some extras. No charge for them. And yes, we saved your town, yada yada yada. Pay us."

McKinsey looked into the sack. "Yuk," she said. "When you said you would bring me his head, I thought you were being metaphorical."

"No," said Vlad. "Not metaphorical."

McKinsey opened a little safe and took out a cashbox. She handed them a small roll of notes. "There you are," she said.

"That is not the amount we agreed," said Cassie.

"Well, it's what we usually pay … consultants," said McKinsey.

Cassie sighed. "Why does everyone think they can screw us?" she said.

"Maybe because you are pretty and I am big," said Vlad.

Cassie considered. "Yeah, maybe," he said. She picked up the sack of heads. "Well, I guess we'll just drop these off at various places around your little town. The church, maybe. The school. Hey, you've got a kindergarten, haven't you?"

"One as a mystery prize," said Vlad. "The woman, I think."

"You wouldn't," said McKinsey.

"We would," said Vlad.

McKinsey looked from one of them to the other. "Oh, alright," she said at last. She handed them the rest of the money.

Cassie upended the sack, and the contents spilled onto McKinsey's desk. "A pleasure doing business with you," she said.

With some funds in their pocket, they checked into a cheap motel for the night. They had not spoken since leaving the police station.

Cassie came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her. She threw herself into an armchair and pouted.

"Cassie," said Vlad. "Are you angry? Angry with Vlad?"

"No!" she snapped. "Yes! No! Fuck, I don't know! I don't know … what I want. I don't even know what I'm supposed to want." A tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Vlad was silent. Then he said: "Would Cassie like to do … the thing you did that other time?"

She considered. Goddamn, she thought. I do. I really do.

"Yes," she said. "Cassie would like that. Cassie would like that very much."

And she took off the towel.

END